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ohimsummer · 1 year ago

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LOWKEY, SHE’S SO SWEET ft. SUGURU GETO

— minors dni, light angst?, suguru x fem! reader, penetrative sex, mention of gojo x reader (one kiss), slight dumbification, nipple play, biting/hickeys, making out, lovesick! suguru, what could’ve been a creampie, pussy taps, dry humping, reader gets a little flustered (duh it’s suguru), pussy whipped suguru ?, a little proofread

wc 3.3k

Gojo had a lot of bad habits. Eating an over abundance of sweets, not taking things seriously, hiding his feelings, along with procrastinating and, more importantly, avoiding things he shouldn’t.

“Since when were you such a coward?,” Shoko asks and elbows him in the ribs.

He faces away, a lip jutted out as he mumbles a response. “‘M not a coward, I just don’t like her in that way.”

Suguru stands nearby, lighting a cigarette as he eavesdrops on the conversation. The lighter falls deep into his pocket, while he’s wondering how he could have such an absolute idiot as his best friend. People who don’t like someone else ‘in that way’ don’t get butterflies when they kiss that person, but he digresses. If Gojo wants to let you go and keep denying his own feelings, so be it. Suguru will gladly swoop you up and make you his own.

Ever since that kiss you and Satoru had shared, one the former was adamant meant nothing because he definitely wasn’t in love with you, the two of you had been avoiding each other for a few weeks now. Well, Gojo was avoiding you. Geto discovered through Shoko that you just didn’t want to force him into anything, putting Gojo’s feelings above your own and essentially condoning his childish actions—and that you were struggling to come to terms with the fact that you’d wasted your first real kiss on someone who apparently thought you meant nothing special.

A week after the incident, Geto was over at your place again, as he often was since you two did hang out a lot. Shoulders drooped, the usual playfulness in your voice is gone, he never gets a good look at your face and that’s on purpose. At that point, it was too hard to conceal your emotions about the whole thing—Geto can read you like an open book, and the conversation wouldn’t be worth the heartache. You’re nothing like yourself. If he’s being honest, Suguru’s annoyed and a little bit jealous that you’re this way over his friend. He could treat you so much better. He’s not the type that needs to be pushed so hard just to admit his feelings; the type to just up and pretend his friend of almost a decade doesn’t exist anymore over one kiss.

It’s not like Geto was being unfair here. He’d been eyeing you for years already, anyway, stuck watching you pine after—and now, lose sleep over—his snowy-haired best friend. Almost two months had passed, and this was the final straw to push Geto over the edge. If the strongest sorcerer in the world was going to waste both his own and your time, then Geto would move things along himself.

“Glad your mission went well.,” Suguru says as you usher him into your spacious apartment, coming to check on you after an especially grueling curse you’d been assigned to kill.

“Oh yeah, easy-peasy.,” you laugh. Your hand waves through the air as if swatting away a fly. “Didn’t even break a sweat.”

He’s used to this, your bravado after every mission, regardless of how dangerous it actually was. Something to lighten the mood after just putting your life on the line. You’re similar to Gojo in that aspect, only the tiredness behind your words and expression is far more evident, but you power through regardless. Calm and collected as ever, pouring yourself a glass of milk and gesturing a chilled water bottle at your guest in offering. Geto rests on the couch with an arm slung over the back as he watches you toss the half-empty jug within the fridge, before prancing over to him with a playful grin.

“Milk?” An airy chuckle puffs from his lips.

Your eyes narrow as you toss the bottle into his lap, your own glass hesitating before your mouth. “Listen, I had a craving while I was out, and it’s going to help my bones grow. I have to catch up to you and Gojo somehow.”

Your silly comment elicits a tugging at Suguru’s lips, ignoring again how you’ve started using his friend’s last name. There’s a flicker of discomfort that crosses your features at the thought of Gojo—he’s noticed your sudden unease at the mention of the sorcerer—before you’re chugging the milk in swift gulps. Geto sees the tension, traces of it at least, leave you through the relaxation of your shoulders.

“So,” you lower the glass just a little, tongue swiping the milk mustache below your nose. “Wanna watch a movie? You don’t have a mission tomorrow, right?”

A shake of his head. “Nope. I’m all yours for the night.” His cheeky words brings a warmth to your face.

Geto lets you pick the movie, giving in to you like he usually does, and accepts the invitation to sprawl out on your bed upstairs. It’s more spacious than the couch, and also adorned with various plushies to protect you both from the frights of the dreadful movie about to play. It’s a typical psychological horror—filled with cheap jumpscares and agonizing suspense in the form of characters lingering through the shadows. He’s never seen this film before, so Geto should be paying attention because he knows you like to discuss after, but he just can’t. Not with both your sides pressed together and the heat of your body radiating onto him, or when your head lolls against his shoulder, face half-hidden behind the fuzzy dog plush in your arms.

It’s sweet, the way you jolt when a character springs from behind a corner, squealing in fright, lowering just a little further behind the stuffed animal. His heart races a little faster when you cower against him, eyes soften a little more at your goofy comments about the idiotic choices of the cast members. You, laughing at your own words, which makes him laugh in turn, and Suguru feels like he’s just falling more in love with you and your being.

Another hair-raising scene occurs, and Geto slinks a comforting arm around your shoulder, face growing warm when you shuffle to sink further into him. From the corner of his eye, he can see the fear written on your face. It’s amusing and just endearing really, how you’re seemingly more frightened by the fake movie monster than an actual cursed spirit. His hand snakes over your face to cover your eyes, fingers spread so you may peek through, and Geto chuckles when you scrunch your nose up at him.

“Are you trying to say I look scared–!”, The accusation barely leaving your mouth before a loud gasp erupts from your throat, the source of your shock being the sudden loud noise of a bookshelf falling in the movie. Alas, your boldness is thwarted by another cheap scare.

“Ah, silly me. Of course not.” Geto’s voice is mocking as he brushes hair from your face. “So fearless, I can tell.”

“Shut up, that doesn’t count, you distracted me.”

He laughs again. “Oh, so you’re gonna pin that reaction on me?”

You mumble into the stuffed dog something unintelligible, face half concealed against Geto’s chest. His hand falls to rest on your shoulder, drawing circles and then hearts into the warm skin of your body. You squeeze an arm behind yourself to wrap around him, giggling when he turns to glance at your smaller hand on his other side.

“So you won’t be scared the rest of the movie.,” you tease with a toothy grin.

“Me?” He thinks you’re ridiculous in the cutest way. “I haven’t jumped once.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re lucky I was too busy watching the movie to notice you shivering over there.” The faint smell of his cologne is intoxicating from this distance. “Your heart’s probably pounding right now.”

It is, Geto thinks, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. Less of the movie, and more of your pretty face inches from his. The film continues playing on your laptop, a scene shot at night and through the dark screen, Geto admires you in the reflection. Those wide, doe-eyes seemingly hyper-focused on what’s in front of you, darting to take in everything on display—maybe you’d find an Easter egg in this shot, some reference to another movie, perhaps? Your breathing hitches when a sound makes the main character twist to look behind them, and Geto finds himself hugging you just a little bit tighter.

“I’m fine, y’know.” You huff the sentence out at him, catching his curious gaze through the dark reflection of your laptop. “Why are staring at me like that?”

Your head raises, turning to confront him. Amongst the love in Suguru’s eyes, you see hints of fondness, soft and subtle as he studies you. And behind that, something else that’s not so innocent. It all intrigues you.

“Got something on your mind, Suguru?”

This was supposed to be happening with Gojo. Or you’d originally hoped it would, anyway.

The movie was long forgotten, laptop dark as the credits had ended a while ago. The device teetered along the edge of your bed before falling, luckily cushioned by the discarded yellow puppy plush that’d met the floor through Geto’s foot.

Your moans bounce around the room, occasionally colliding with his grunts of satisfaction as Suguru’s tongue danced around in your mouth, him nibbling on your bottom lip as a hand crept up your shirt. Shaky legs squeeze around his waist, parted by Geto’s knee, and you grind against the flex of his thigh to relieve the building ache in your core.

There’s the soft smack of parting lips whenever Suguru breaks away, eager to shower kisses along your exposed neck, littered with the dark marks of his possession—then he returns for the taste of strawberry on your lips again. There it is again, this endearing sweetness about you, it’s engraved into your very being: your laugh, your smile, your silly jokes, the flavor of your kiss. A needy grip, wandering hands that don’t know their destination, rubbing over Suguru’s shoulders, his back, gripping his nape and threading amongst dark strands of long hair. In the back of his mind, he can’t help wonder if Gojo had an experience such as this and, if so, how he could ever risk never being able to go through it again?

It only takes one hand to unclasp your bra with expert fingers. The undergarment is inched away to expose your breasts, and soon, your shirt with it to leave your top half unveiled for Suguru’s longing gaze.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…,” he mutters to himself, pink dusting the tops of his cheeks. Satoru’s such an idiot, he thinks, missing out on this, on you.

Your hot pants graze his skin; fuzzy, indecisive eyes flicker between Geto’s flushed face and the prominent tent in his sweats, where it just brushes your panties and sends a flood of wetness between your thighs. Trembling hands finally find purchase on his shoulder and behind his neck, where you pull him towards your body, arched to raise your tits and the gesture sends an intense throbbing straight to Suguru’s dick. Offering yourself to him like that, wordlessly begging for his mouth to indulge in you—he’s wrapped so right around your finger, just a lovesick fool for you.

A sharp gasp slips out—Geto’s mouth meets one of your stiffened nipples, rolling it on his tongue before tugging it between his teeth. ‘Ah! Suguru!’ you mewl his name with your head sinking into plush pillows, and he gropes your other lonely breast with a large hand, thumbing the hard bud and pinching it between his fingers.

It’s easy to match the greedy rhythm of his hips, and you uplift your own to meet the grinding of his erection against your heated pussy. A loving kiss pressed to your chest, over the swell of your tits, a bite or two in between while he worships your body. “M—!” Geto cuts you off with a harsh suck of your nipple, prompting a desperate whine from your throat. “O-oh, god—! Fuck, Suguru, k-keep going!”

He pauses the feverish assault on your chest, licking a stripe up the center of your throat, and muttering sweet nothings over your glistening skin before continuing ministrations on the pebbled buds. Your legs hug tight around Geto’s hips, pulling him ever closer until the stiffness in his pants massages your clit through sopping wet panties. Drool soaks your chest, messy and riddled with a new array of bite marks and blemishes. Evidence of Suguru’s obsession, and a clear claim over you because you’re all his now.

“Suguruu…”, you jut out a lip when dark eyes move in your direction, tongue hesitating on your nipple. “Hurry, pleasee?” You whine and flutter long lashes, purposefully grinding against his length again in a needy plea.

He gives one last suck on the erect nub, causing your mouth to fall open with a small moan, and Geto balances himself on an elbow next to your head, easing fingers beneath the waistline of your panties. Snorting, his eyes trail over your heaving form, watching your own fingers tug at the hem of his pants.

“My darling’s so eager, isn’t she?” It’s a soft taunt that fills your ears, makes you conscious of the blazing heat in your veins that sets fire to your skin. “Can’t be that desperate for me, can you? Want me in this pussy that bad?”

Your clit throbs in response, and you keep fingers tucked into Suguru’s sweats, pulling them down for a glimpse at the dark hairs of his happy trail, before growing a little more embarrassed and hiding it away again. He chuckles at your shy behavior.

“Shut up.,” you search the room, pouting, for something else to look at. “You can’t get me like this and then be so mean.”

He lowers himself towards you. “Like what?” A little closer, now locks of his hair brush your face. “Getting this pussy all sloppy and wet for me? Begging to have my cum stuffed in her?”

Eyes widening, you break his gaze, cramming your lids shut as your face twists with a look of bashfulness. “God, Suguru, you are sooo–!” Hot? Dirty? Perverted? “Embarrassing!,” you finally groan in frustration.

Suguru sits up to stare down at the soaked wet patch staining your panties. ‘I’ll tell you what’s embarassing…’ and you give a playful glare at his comment. He chuckles, and adjusts both your legs to rest on his left side before fingers hook beneath the fabric, pulling it off in one swift motion. The slickness of your pussy is a sight to behold, mouth-watering. Juices cascade down your thighs, drenches his protruding digits as he slides them up and down your fluttering hole that threatens to suck him in and never let go.

“ ‘S not my fault, she just knows what she likes.” Geto marvels at how easily his thick finger sinks in, cock twitching at your lengthy whine. “And I think right now she’d like me to break her in.”

He’s so insufferable. “Suguru–“

“God, I’m gonna make this pussy mine, just wait.,” he sighs. The squeeze of your walls at his promise is mesmerizing—your words can’t fly high enough to reach him in the clouds. “Til you can’t remember anything but the shape of my dick, gonna breed this tight fucking hole–“

“I think actions speak louder than words, Suguru.”

Your little taunt pulls Geto out of his daydreams. “Oh, you’re going to be much louder than my actions, darling.”

It’s like sand on your tongue the way your mouth goes dry, him grinning at your flustered expression as he frees his cock from it’s prison. Precum drools from the tip, leaking down his length to leave a stain on his dark sweats. Your tongue darts over your lips, craving just a taste, a desire to encompass his bobbing length in the safe warmth of your mouth.

He glides it over your spasming pussy, making a mess as precum and slick smears everywhere. Amusement dances in Geto’s eyes when he slaps the tip a few times against your clit, sending a jolt through you and bringing a cry from within your throat. He does it again, circles your clit with his tip until your hips are gyrating to match his movements and tears prick the corners of your eyes. ‘Suguru…’ falls off your lips once more in a pathetic plea, and Geto can’t wait any longer when you blink so innocently at him, sigh so prettily at his teasing motions.

It burns a little, the stretch of his fat tip making its way inside. But Geto is slow and patient—he notes any sign of discomfort as he awaits your go ahead, as torturous as it is, especially when the deepest parts of your pussy are calling for him. Your gooey walls are snug around his length, holding him so tight and inviting him inside as inches sink deeper into your fluttering heat—it’s maddening. As Geto finally bottoms out, he cages you between his arms, face flushed pink and framed by long, jet-black waves of hair. So pretty. And his pleasured smile wavers for just a second. You’re so fucked out already that you don’t even know you just mumbled that out loud. Looks like you’re both a pair of lovesick fools.

“F–fuck me, please.,” you whimper. He won’t make you ask twice. Lazy yet deliberate, the drag of Suguru’s cock has your head reeling, especially when he keeps brushing that spot inside you, sending floods of euphoria throughout your body.

Your arms move to wrap around his neck, tangling fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. “S-so full, Suguru, it f–eels, feels s’ fucking good, don’t stop.” And he replies with a low grunt, ‘shit, I won’t, could never’ as his pace quickens. Tears cast a blurry haze over your vision, sounds of skin against skin picking up in your ears, along with desperate, broken moans from either of you. The sharpness of your nails leave a collection of scratches along Suguru’s back, and the slight pain of it all only fuels the plunge of his dick, making itself at home within the gumminess of your walls. He uses a hand to shift your pelvis, moving himself for a deeper angle and fucking hard into your sweet spot. ‘Oh, fuck, fuck!’ You cry into Geto’s ear, tugging his hair and grasping at him to fit against you. ‘S-Suguru..! Right there–!’, finished off with a loud cry. Your orgasm is right around the corner, a blazing pool of desire overflowing in the pit of your stomach.

“C–um..!” You’re starting to babble, mindless and stupid. “Inside, inside, Suguru!”

And he wants to, trust, but it wouldn’t exactly be responsible without a condom on or knowing whether or not you’re on the pill. Maybe if he was a little less caring—or not tucked away in the crevice of your neck to hide from the hypnotizing power of your eyes—he’d make good on his promise and fill your pussy up until you couldn’t take it anymore. It’s so tempting, the heavy urge to mark your insides with his seed, til they were coated in white, but he just can’t be sure. So while you’re shivering and crying, high off your own orgasm, Suguru uses his last remnants of sensibility. He pulls out, low, raspy grunts and a hiss leaving him at the sight of his cum painting your thighs, spurting onto your swollen clit and leaking down to your quivering hole.

He collapses next to you, chests both heaving and an arm moves to wrap around your waist. Your teary eyes glaze over Geto in his divine glory, too dazed to see him doing the same to you.

“What’s with that face?,” he pants a short chuckle at the pout of your lips.

You turn further onto your side, pressing your bare bodies together and wrapping an arm around his neck, the other rubbing through his hair. “Told you to cum inside me, you wasted it everywhere.”

Suguru scoffs, playful. “Couldn’t risk it, sweetheart, I’d be hooked after one go.”

A shiver runs down his spine as you brush a thumb over his nape. “Oh, is that so bad? Thought you were gonna stuff me, Sugu, you don’t wanna breed this little hole and fill me up?”

“…Keep talking like that and I might.”

tagz: @anthoosies @mysugu

#suguru geto x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader smut #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #suguru geto x you

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z-eel · 26 days ago

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ok but I need you to fucking hear me rn...

Barty works at this little cafe just off the school campus because he needs to pay for school now that he's pissed off his dad.

besties Regulus and Sirius are saying they can pay for his schooling, but Barty wants to be independent or whatever.

so Barty sees a lot of people, and they ask for a lot of stupid, complicated drinks , which he technically can't make because it's a small cafe but whatever, pissing off customer is part of the fun.

then in comes this little girl in pink shirt smugged with paint, a large purple princess skirt and butterfly wings on her back. she was absolutely the cutest thing he had seen, but what really had him staring was the guy that was holding on to her hand.

they were clearly releated, little sister, daughter, niece, any of those titles could fit, but the only thing Barty cared about was finding out weather or not the guy was single, because if he wasn't he would have to come up with a game plan to make him single.

but then he's asking for one of those complicated drinks. something about strawberries and unicorns, and Barty is just standing there crying internally because, for a moment, this man is perfect.

and then he turns to the girl and tells her to pick out a seat with a smile and he melts for second. and when the girl gone he truns back to Barty and tells him to just give him strawberry milk with chopped strawberries at the bottom and whipped cream on top with strawberry syrup and a couple of sprinkles.

and sure it wasn't as complicated as the original order and he pretty sure he can't give him that many strawberries, but apparently it was the girls birthday and the last coffee shop ran out of strawberries.

how the fuck was Barty going to say no?

Barty being soft for Evan and Luna is everything to me you do not even understand. girls dad's before they even have kids together ahhhhhh! (i am most definitely writing more on this ☆)

#marauders #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #rosekiller #girl dad rosekiller #zeel's writing #luna lovegood

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suiana · 1 month ago

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hi hi hii!! I saw your requests are open so may I pleade request for more yandere classmate oneshots/fics/headcanons anything that is a yandere classmate content cause I really love your writing and those yandere classmates hcs/oneshots you wrote♡♡!! if you need me to be more specific here's a suggestion/scenario:3...(that's a bit too specific if you don't mind hehe)

Yandere classmate transfer to reader's school and class. Yandere meets reader and boomshakalala typical yandere scenario where he falls inlove with reader. Yandere finds out that reader is getting backstabbed and bullied by their classmates. Reader is an extrovert and silly but like can't do anything about the bullying so they just ignore their classmates comment. Reader can be gender neutral or fem, whatever feels more comfty for u to write:>>! yan is a male!

Also, if you're in a writer's block, u don't have to force yourself! Also jst ignore this if u don't feel comfty writing this. Take of yourself and sorry if this is a bit too specific or demanding !

xoxo - Anon

hey anon! you just pulled me out of my writers drought so please have this for valentines

Yandere! classmate who's the new kid and is trying to fit in. Right, the average new kid experience. You're not popular, not a loner, just somewhere in between and trying to get by with all the horrors school can throw at you. No one has enough time to bother with others when they have to focus on themselves.

But there is.

You know how there are some people who peaked in highschool that take out their sadness on others? Yeah, that's right. Those people. And he just so happened to walk into one of these sessions.

Some grown ass man pouring milk over- oh, it's you.

Yeah just like how there's the losers who peaked in highschool, there are the popular kids who remain popular throughout their life. Aka you. And he's fallen for you hard.

It all began one fateful day... When he bumped into you while running on 2 hours of sleep and simply passed out because of the force at which he walked right at you. That's right. He fainted from walking into you.

Anyway, when he woke up, he found out that you had dragged him to the nurse's office and had stayed right by his side until he woke up.

How fucking cute.

He was definitely attracted to you. That was for sure, he still could feel it even when he was still woozy. I mean, you were his type from head to toe! Physically at least.

But now you're telling him you stayed by his side and waited patiently by his side until he woke up? You've got him hooked. So he gave you his number, got you to be his friend, and everything else fell in place.

He started noticing you around campus, talking to everyone and socializing like a freaking butterfly. Figures. You were clearly an extrovert and loved being just an absolute sweetheart. Sweet and kind to everyone around you. He would give you the world if you asked for it.

Then, he started noticing the bullying. The whispers, backhanded compliments... Just everything about it enraged him. It's bad enough that people are being mean, it's even worse that they're called your friends. How could they do such a thing to you? You were a blessing to be around! These people should be grateful that you even wanted to befriend them! Hell, they should be grovelling and begging on their knees for even as much as thinking wrong of you!

The worst part of it all?

You don't retaliate. Or rather, you can't. These "friends" of yours are all kids of rich and powerful people. And you? You're just poor old you, unable to talk back in fear of them ruining your reputation and maybe even worse. They could have you removed from the school, falsely accused of a crime... They're scum of the earth and they know it.

He hates them.

That's why he's taken it upon himself to get rid of them! No problem if he isn't as powerful or rich as these... "friends" of yours... Who can fight back when they're dead after all? The dead don't speak, they can't. They're the best type of sinners, people who've dared to lay their filthy hands and words on your beautiful soul.

Of course... He doesn't let you know that. You're too kind for this world. You'd freak out and have a panic attack if he told such a thing to you! You wouldn't understand. He wouldn't want to scare you anyway. You think of him as just another tired student that's your really nice friend. So he's kept all this hidden away.

But right now? When he's faced with this? Milk? On you? While you're just... Forced to take it all?

How can he not act out?

"You think this is funny?"

His hands are on that losers neck in a second, depriving him of any oxygen possible. Damn you, damn you, damn you. This waste of space should just die now. He was even laughing when he was pouring the fucking milk over your head? Unacceptable.

Simply unacceptable.

"You're a fucking loser."

"You smell like piss and shit, did you piss yourself?"

"Not so much of a big guy now, huh?"

This guy's body is larger than him, muscle and veiny all over. Yet... His body was slowly losing... to him? An average joe?

Then he hears it. Your voice.

He gets pulled out of his rage by your voice. Oh... Your sweet, sweet voice. It's like an angel's touch, the warmth of spring after a cold winter. Usually it would be comforting to him, make his heart soar and face warm. Right now though? it's sending nothing but dread through him. Shit, he's exposed himself.

"Uh... Fuck, I didn't mean to-"

He's stammering, bumbling on his words like a fool. No, god no, he's messed up now. You'll surely hate him and think he's a violent creep. You'll never want to talk to him again and-

-You reached out to him and mutter a thanks? For standing up for you? With that smile and gentle hands? What was that? Did you just ask him to release the guy and go on a walk? Was that a date? He hopes it's a date. Ah, it's on valentine's too. Do you like him? Is this a sign? He's not overthinking it right?

...

Ah.

He's so cooked.

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere concepts #yandere classmates #yandere classmates x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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catssluvr · 7 months ago

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𝓬𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓮, spencer reid

spencer x shy!r

spencer brings you coffee <3

warnings: mentions of stress? just fluff 🫶🏻

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You sighed as your eyes scaned the paper in front of you, not bothering to take a look at the mountain of files standing at the corner of your table. You were pretty much sure that if you did, your headache - that would soon turn into a migrane - would start showing signs way too soon in the day. 7am was definitely too early for that.

This week was particularly kicking your ass and the only thing you wanted was to go back home, curl into your sofa with some takeout and watch a junkie romcom.

You couldn't help but frown at the empty chair of the table in front of yours that belonged to spencer, it was unsual for him to be this late. Well, technically he wasn´t late but knowing him he would usually arrive 30 minutes earlier.

Before you could think too much about it, Derek´s voice sounded behind you, "You alright, pretty girl?" He asked with one of his teasing but loving smiles plastered on his face.

"Yeah, just tired of paperwork. Hotch knows how to make me get as grumpy as him." You joked with a smile, trying to mask your tiredness.

"Well if you need me to kick his ass just reach out." He joked, looking aroud to make sure there was no sign of your boss before walking back to his desk.

You were about to get back to your paper when you noticed Spencer walking through the doors, clumsly carrying two coffees and what happeared to be a box from the place where they sell your favourite bagels.

You couldn´t help but smile as you watched him take small steps to his table, careful not to spill the coffee. You would have helped him if your mind wasn´t concentrated on how much you miss him lately. Aside from the fact your stomach errupts in a thousand butterflies when you see him, he is the best bestfriend in the whole world and having to cancel friday´s movie night was probably one of your most heartbreaking decisions. You usually wouldnt miss it for nothing but files don´t yet fill themselves alone so it was your only option.

Friday nights were the only oportunity you had to relax completely, Spencer was probably one of the only people that you were completely comfortable around, he understood you like no one else - which leads to the big question: how could you not fall in love with him?

"Hi." His voice interrupted your thoughts, he was now standing beside you with his signature smile, a cup of coffee in one hand and a bagel wrapped up in a paper in the other.

"Hey Spence." You smiled shyly at him, embarrassed for getting caught in your daydream. Gladly, he hadn’t ´t even noticed you staring, him being just as oblivious as you when it came to the feelings you shared for eachother.

"I- uhm- bought you this. I just noticed you haven´t been taking breaks at all, not even for lunch. And if you're not eating enough during the day, particularly carbohydrate-rich foods, you may have decreased levels of serotonin, a hormone that has a calming effect. That increases the chances of getting stressed." He rambled on, not that you minded - at all. In fact, your heart skiped a beat at the thought of him caring so much about your health that he came in late just to buy you breakfast.

"Oh Spence you really didn´t have to. But thank you so much." You grinned sheepishly as you got up from your chair, taking both the coffee and bagel from his hands and setting it on your table, blushing when his knuckles brushed against your hand. It was silly, really silly, but you couldn´t help but get flustered every time.

"It´s no problem, really." He mumbled softly before going on, "I hope i got everything right. Four cubes of ice, three fourths of milk and one fourth of coffee. Oh and i made sure to choose the bagel that contained more carbs so you would have energy for the day." He smiled proudly at you.

But honestly your attention was mostly focused on the way his fingers were fiddling with the cozy sweater that covered your arms as he rambled on. It had became an habit of his, he claimed it helped his concentration (it was a pretty lame excuse to get to touch your fluffy sweaters) but you were pretty sure he did it when he was feeling nervous about something.

Reality hit you suddenly as you realised he might feel like you were upset at him for canceling friday night, after all it was a very unusual for you to cancel plans with him.

"Hug?" Was all you could muster out, the longing you had felt throughout the week from barely even talking to him finally coming to the surface.

His hands pulled at your sweater, bringing you close to him before you could overthink your request. He wrapped his arms arounds your waist without hesitation, his face snuggling against your neck.

Your arms went around his shoulders, trying not to squeeze him too hard, as you stayed there for a few moments. He made no sign to pull away from you until you did, you loved that about him - you loved a lot of things about him.

When you were finally out of his embrace, mourning the lack of warmt right after, he smiled as he whispered softly, "Let me know if you need any of those again." Before walking back to his desk, almost tripping over his desk as he looked at you with those doe eyes of his the whole way.

How could you not fall in love with him?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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2-dsimp · 9 months ago

Note

Who would baby trap mc? Asking for science.

🤓

『Featuring Babytrapping with the Hitman Team』

——;——;————;———-

Cw: 🔞NSFW MDNI! Fem reader! Baby trapping,

——;——;————;———-

Would Babytrap you intentionally

——;——;————;———-

Bjorn the Strategist: As the strategist of the team it’d only be fitting for him to intentionally plan. On knocking you up to make sure you’ll forever be inclined to stay with him. But only after doing some intensive research about child rearing and pregnancy. So he’s able to provide you with everything you may need and ensure that both you and his child are safe and sound.

Yujin the hacker: he’d be upfront with you on his plans of knocking you up. With a childish grin on his face, the hacker will straight up tell you that he’s going to get you pregnant. So that he can finally get a tasteful of your breast milk. His openness would dupe you into thinking he was joking since Yujin’s always been a prankster at times. So really you can’t blame him if he did exceed in doing exactly as he told. since he made sure to give you a prior notice ahead of time.

——;——;————;———-

Would Babytrap you unintentionally

——;——;————;———-

Ossian the sniper: don’t get me wrong he loves you dearly. So much in fact that in his sleep. He’ll go as far as to make sure you feel how deep his love for you goes until you’re filled up like a cream puff. The funny part is that when you’re holding up a positive pregnancy test in Ossian’s face he’d think he was dreaming. And would promptly wish aloud that he’d never wake up. Since the dream of having a family with you would make him feel as if he’s floating on cloud nine.

Vincent the Enforcer: would be so wrapped up in how good you felt going in raw. That he’d completely forget to pull out, and would mutter apologies underneath his breath. Whilst continuing to bust his thick spurts of jizz inside your squelching cunt. Saying how he can’t help himself and promising with butterfly kisses. Against your neck that he’d be a good daddy and take care of both you and the baby.

Danny the boss: this otaku cannot cope with how turned on you make him feel on a daily basis. He’d be so desperate to have more of you, to get balls deep inside. That place he calls heaven in between those thighs of yours. To the point of where his fat tip would break through the condom and make him nut prematurely inside you. From instantly being exposed to your depths. After Seeing the positive pregnancy test, Danny would faint like a damsel in distress. Due to an extensive nosebleed at the mere vision he had of you having baby bump. His baby bump

——;——;————;———-

Wouldn’t try to Baby trap you.

——;——;————;———-

Moros the Torturer: would never try to baby trap his sunshine. He’d want to make sure of having kids is what you’d so desire. So if you want kids you’ll have to reassure Moros constantly that you’d want to have a family with him. Since he’d hate to do anything that would cause you any kind of harm or discomfort. He knows that pregnancy can affect you long term and is well versed in the risks. So he’d never put your wellbeing in jeopardy despite how he truly yearns for a big family.

Koji the medic: is meticulous when it comes to sex, he’ll make sure that no happy accidents. will happen under his watch since he doesn’t particularly like to idea of having kids. Nor does he plan to entertain the idea of losing his dearest nurse to birthing a parasite. If push comes to shove he’ll definitely choose to toss the whole kid away than to ever risk lose his darling.

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threepandas · 1 month ago

Text

Bad End: Snake Bride

There were pudgy little yellow creatures everywhere, here. As common as squirrels, it seemed. They looked like squishy, somber, ditto-faced Pikachus...sorta? I made a note of it. Stopping to make a few sketches. Not that anyone here would ever get the reference, mind you. And they didn't have the iconic tail. More of a nubby little hamster tail?

I'd have to figure out a better description. For the bestiary. Not to mention a suitably cute name, assuming they weren't deadly, after all...

You never knew, with hidden realms like these.

Throughout my training, the other disciples and I had been beaten over the head with countless tales of "it looked cute/pretty/beautiful/holy/or otherwise harmless AND THEN TRIED TO KILL US. Do NOT make our mistakes! I will pull you from the jaws of death! Just to kill you myself!!" by our Shizun. The man could rant for hours.

He still couldn't let go that a glowing, flower patterned, butterfly tried to rip his throat out. And? Since he technically for them "first"? (As far as anyone can find.) He got to name then poor creatures.

Which is why, there exists a very beautiful species of highly deadly butterfly... called the "flying demon rat bastard spawn".

(God, I love Shizun so much. He is so, SO petty. Hilarious, vengeful, the man's the living manifestation of "target sighted". Man has beef with specific TREES for god sake. I wish I had HALF that kind of energy. Even if it DID get us banned from like... so many places.)

I tried to get a good look at the little guys mouth, seeing one yawn. Hmmm... the teeth suggest venom. Better not startle any of them... but NOT I'm gonna need to catch one to milk it. Great. They seem fast...

A knock out array? No. Need them to want to bite me, so I can get a venom sample...

Crouching, I mulled over the problem. Admiring the little creatures as the clambered up and down the strange flora of this realm. It was fascinating. Humbling, in a way. When, I considered that? No one else had DONE this before. I knew it for a fact. Every single reference to this hidden realm? Was from either the immortal who created it... or four hundred years later, the immortal who sacked the placed.

It was hard to get into, hard to find, didn't boast any supposed ten thousand year treasures or legendary beasts. Just? A humble pocket of life. Started and left to cultivate. Shift and change. Grow!

Who CARES what uses the creatures or plants have?! This place should be STUDIED! All these realms should be studied! They're amazing!!

I spot a moss I haven't collected yet and carefully take a sample. Noting it's location on the map I've started (which is a mess, I fear I definitely have no future there). Of course, as is so often the case? Finding one sample leads to another. Moss leads to "oh hey, a mushroom" to "is that bird or a leaf?" And so on and so on. I nearly forget to make camp.

(It was a bird. It just looked like leaves! Fascinating camouflage!)

Only noticing the light shifting qualities, drags me from my hyperfocus. A nasty (or, I guess, productive? For an immortal.) habit. I had lost days to it, before. Disappearing into the library or some work room, back on the peak, for time blurringly long periods of time. Inedia keeping me from hunger. Younger disciples bringing me tea.

There was a reason, after all, I never made Head Disciple. Even though I got along great with Shizun. I was about as responsible as a goldfish. Entirely too focused on my own studies, to be honest. But to be fair? Let's see YOU focus! When there is so much... I don't know, Xianxia bullshit?

(IS it Xianxia bullshit? Or is it Xuanhuan bullshit? Fuck. It's been a life time. I literally can not not remember. Let's see YOU remember the differences! After literal decades!!)

(God, I miss my books. And the internet. And TV. Honestly? I miss everything.)

Fuck! Side tracked! Again!!

Careful not to step on any of the marshmallow-y not-pikachus, I scramble to collect the last of my samples. Reach out with my Qi, to feel how the ebbs and flows around me shift. I should? Be able to sense any nearby predators. As well as posdibly find a nice qi rich spot to set up camp. Maybe meditate.

Just because I'm exploring hidden realms, doesn't mean I should grow lazy, after all! Whole point of cultivation it to ascend. God hood and all that. And, yeah, I'm still sceptical as fuck. But... count me curious. Why not try?

Oooh! That's a nice ca-! Hmmm?

Something... not-brushes against my senses. As though it should be there. I should sense something. An almost taste and nearly smell of... something? Someone? Kinda like the faintest hint of someone's cologne, lingering in the air, as you move through a crowd that isn't touching you. But... warmer. Like it's still on the skin. Not a lingering remnant from someone who passed through?

It's... weird. I can't sense anybody.

Maybe if I try harder? I pump more qi into my technique. More then is technically polite, honestly. But maybe they are farther out then I think they are? I hadn't exactly expected to be sharing space. This Realm isn't exactly BIG. Just a ring of mountains and the valleys between them. One big, lush valley. Many smaller ones.

Again, it's not a popular realm. Not to mention already looted. And not even particularly Qi rich. So meditating here would be a strange choice. But... maybe they want the relative isolation?

I still can't find them. Dispite knowing they are there. (That technique does not give false positives.) So I risk rudeness. Figure I can always apologize. Maybe they are deep in meditation or something? Pumping more qi, frankly appalling amounts, into the technique, I am damn near half blind as I walk. (For all that I can see better then anyone in this valley at the moment.)

The sensory input is cacophonous. Beautiful. Terrible. Like balancing atop a single hair thin thread. Suspended carefully, above a raging sea, made of wonderous light and churning pains. I use my foot steps to anchor me. Balanced and even. Yet... find nothing. Pull back.

Are they... hiding?

Why?

Up ahead it the qi rich cave (more an over hang, cave is generous) that I sensed. A good, defensible place to set up.

It's only as I'm setting up? That I notice the little Marsh-a-chus? (Is that a good name? I really do need to start thinking of a good name for them.) Have followed along. Crowd the trees and settle thick in various bushes. And... part of me? Wants to go "away, I made friends!" But...

The rest of me? Was drilled in horror story and horror story by my Shizun. And that's so mighty fine "unusual interest" behavior going on there. Might even go so far as to classify it as hunting behavior!

Mmmmhm! Don't like THAT! No sir! Time for some nice and cozy warding talismans! Shall we? The STRONG ones.

Under far too many beady little eyes, I slap down security talismans. Full three sixty. Against the ground, the stone, the mountain behind me. I am taking no chances. Just as I was taught.

Which... as I am settling in for the night? Dinner done and dishes drying. Sleeping mat, out and reading to go. Light and warmth talismans, positioned just where I need them? Turns out to be for the best.

Because there is something in the dark. Big. Predatory. And coming towards me.

It's not so large as to show above the trees. But that is small comfort. They are fairly large trees. And honestly? I know only too well, massive size does NOT indicate lethality. Sun turtles are mountainous after all, and THEY photosynthesize! The problem is? There wasn't supposed to be a predator that big in this realm.

Did someone fucking shove a spirit beast or monster in here!?

What? Out of sight out of mind?! No longer their problem, right!? Why kill it, when you can put it in a hidden real to LET IT GROW BIGGER! Destroy an ecosystem! MOTHER FUCK-!!!

The night is silent.

It should NOT be.

Gripping a sword I am only kinda decent at wielding, I pray to the gods, I don't have to use it. I am a spiritual cultivator! Not a martial one! This is BULLSHIT. I don't have anything on me for "unknow predatory mega-fauna" because there WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE ANY! Oh, this is the LAST time I-!

Foot steps. Crushing through the underbrush.

Into the circle of light my talismans cast, fades a pale young master. Graceful and pale in the moonlight. Very... very pale in the moonlight, actually. No better in the light of my talismans. Near ghostly, in his white silks. Touches of pale gold and stark black. Curls of ink wash grey. Like a painting brought to life.

Just a touch too perfect. A touch too beautiful.

With a grace to his movements that... that is too smooth.

It's not until he all but stands in the light that I am certain. His hair. Too lovely and well kept, for it to be an accident or some sort of shaming. Those are NOT bangs. That is the entirety of it. Nothing held back, in a crown or subtle styling. No... no it is SHORT.

No Human Wears Their Hair SHORT Here.

Entering the light? His eyes reflect. Grey like blades. Like storms and death. No pretty silver things. No, it is far too deep a color. Far too dangerous. Slits, that contract with the light. Half hidden by a heavy expression, that I can not begin to interpret. I desperately try to identify the creature before. Feline? No. Lacks the savage edge. Too cool... serpentine. Snake!

"Like a panicked little mouse, honored cultivator. This one might begin to suspect you weren't happy to see me~" they...? He? Says; his voice a low, honeyed rasp. "But how can that be? When this humble servant has been hunting for so long?"

"Surely, my dear little mouse, has been anticipating this day~! Dreaming of the day when her lord would catch her?"

There is something... mean, in that tone. Vicious and victorious. The silent echo of a madman laugh, as he burns the world to ruin. Seizes and achieves all that he desires. Strangles all that he can not possess. Covetous and ugly. Dancing, dancing, dancing around the edges. Demonic, indeed.

Yet... I do not recognize this creature. This demon. He certainly recognizes me, as horrifying as that is. What past does he speak of? Hunting? What HUNTING?! I try to find something familiar, in this strange form. Unless, of course, he is simple insane? Not impossible... but...

"Ah~ my poor little mouse." The demon coos, mocking in his indulgence. His eyes still dance with laughter. Mad and unable to feast. "You don't recognize this poor servant, do you? How cruel! To be forgotten. A passing fancy, barely held, in my mouse's fickle heart."

He's laughing me. Knows I could not possibly recognize him, yet plans to punish me anyway. Somehow. Fuck! This seems genuine. But how? Why!? When would I have-!?

Then, he shifts.

Gone is the beautiful young man. In his place? Rising, rising, RISING? A behemoth of a bandy-wolf king snake. Black, white, with occasional bare traces of that pale gold on the under belly. Hundreds of thousands the times it ever should have been. But... but? There. A scar. Oh gods.

I recognize him now.

A snake got into the village I was born. Absurdly poisonous, unthinkably venomous, it should have been left alone. Gathered very, VERY carefully and taken far away from people. But... people panic. Get stupid. The adults didn't fucking listen. And over sixteen people died that didn't have too. I was sick at the sight of it. They captured the poor creature and were going to burn it alive.

For the crime of being afraid. Hungry. Getting attacked and then protecting itself.

I couldn't bear it. So... I stole it. Hid it in a cave, half way across the valley. Didn't my best to nurse the poor, injured, creature back to health. At least... I tried. The injuries were too severe. I was able to close the wounds. But sickness, blood loss...

Shit. That cave was incredibly qi rich. It's why I chose it! To make up for what I couldn't do! If he had already started cultivation and then... or just resented enough...

It was entirely possible to become a snake demon. Easily, even.

"Sss Sss Sss, ah, recognition~" the massive creature laughed "Why so fearful? Little mouse~ It's not you I want dead. Kindness for kindness, a debt for a debt. And aren't we be grown? Look how strong we've become!"

The booming, breathy cackle did not fit snake lungs. Silibant and painful. Hissing and near silent. It was more pressure in the air then anything. A madness long coming. As demons born of resentment energy tended to be. All burned villages and the screams of those who wronged them. Hatreds and obsessions made manifest.

I... I could barely breathe. Oh gods. Oh gods! What do I do? I.. I can't-!! Tears threatened to choke me. Fear, shaking my limbs and fogging my mind. W-what do I DO?! I'm scared. No. No, no, NO! Please! I'm SCARED!

"Ah~ so cute, so cute! My little mouse grew so lovely~"

Like the world sighing, as fluid and graceful as his steps, the snake became a man again. His grey tinted lips curled in a fang bearing smile. Hands up and braced against the barrier, his full weight leaning forward as he leered. He loomed. My talismans casting odd shadows across his face, giving the madness in his eyes a terrible glow.

"This husband truely did pick his trap well, didn't he? My sweet little mouse~" he purred, eyes unblinking, above a terrible smile. "My little wife has no where to run~! No where to hide! Her husband has trapped her quite cleverly, hasn't he~? Poor, poor, little mouse. Your husband is so mean!"

My heart felt like it was going to burst. Cold. T-trapped. Can't breathe! Oh gods. Is this a panic attack? I.. I think this is a panic attack! Can't think! Static. Legs, refusing to hold me. Sink. Crawling backwards. Away. G-got to get away! Trapped! TRAPPED!

I horror, I watch as he sinks his nails in to the barrier. Hands no longer resting, but digging into it. He-! He shouldn't be able to DO that! Oh gods! PLEASE gods! Tell me he's not strong enough to BREAK barrier talismans of this level! Please! PLEASE!!

"Ah~ acting this way, you make this husband want to bully you, little wife~♡ And ah, such big, fearful eyes~ Am I being mean? Is husband being cruel? Poor thing~"

CRACK.

In horror, I watch as his nail push through the barrier. Like driving stakes through stone. Cracks shooting from the holes, as he digs and digs. Hands closing around the shards he has created, ignoring the blood that spills from where it cuts into him. As the barrier itself whines and crackles in protect. Tryinging desperately to maintain its integrity. Slowly... cracking... failing...

"Let me kiss it better, hmm? No use in trying to run~"

"So be a good girl~♡ my little Mouse. Come to husband~♡"

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fayes-fics · 2 months ago

Text

The Wonderful Unexpected: Chapter 1

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU (future chapters)

Chapter Summary: it’s Christmas, but it’s beginning to look a lot like a shitshow…

artwork by me

Warnings: None really... swearing and non-graphic character attack and injury.

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: Welcome to Chapter 1 of my next multi-chapter! A modern rom-com based on While You Were Sleeping. This is really just getting the wheels in motion, where she encounters Anthony. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis. Thank you to @colettebronte for beta reading. Please enjoy! <3

The first time you see him, your heart almost stops.

It is a Monday morning, your first shift in your new job at a coffee shop on a dreary day in late October, when he sweeps in, a blur of athletic movement in a sharply tailored suit.

Your boss, the store manager, Gen, starts to make his drink, double espresso, without him even having to say a word. And seemingly, just like that, he is gone again, you standing there, stupefied, awkwardly clutching the milk-frothing pitcher.

And thus, it begins.

Every weekday between 8:01 and 8:15, Prince Charming glides in, grabs his cup and is gone—a beautiful mirage with amazing cheekbones and a watch that costs more than your annual rent. It's like your world goes into slow motion, and, to steal a phrase from your dearly departed Dad’s favourite song, birds suddenly appear every time he is near.

Anyway, one random, soggy Thursday, the fates intervene, and it's your turn to serve him. As soon as you see him striding purposely towards the shop, you start his drink, butterflies in your stomach. The smile he bestows upon you is dazzling… even if his attention is slightly diverted by the call he is on.

Sparks shoot up your arm and into your chest as your fingers brush his briefly as you hand over the small cup.

Surely, this is meant to be?

He is perfect. Your husband (he just doesn't realise it yet).

All you need is a way to introduce yourself…

—

It's the end of your shift three days before Christmas when Gen sidles up to you, an odd expression on her face.

“I’d like to recommend you for Employee of the Month.”

“Didn't know there was one,” you shrug, having no idea what that could mean. You suspect not a great deal. Barista is no one’s chosen career. This is very much what you hope is a pit stop on your way to better things. A way to pay the rent until you get your big break. Or get to go travelling.

“Oh yes, well, it's been a few weeks now, and really, you’re my best employee. You are never late, always reliable, never get an order wrong, and are friendly to all the customers…” She trails off, looking very sheepish. “And if you are willing to work Christmas Day… ”

“Christmas Day!? Why are we even open on Christmas Day anyway? It’ll be dead, even around here,” you frown, putting down the cloth you were wiping the counter with.

“Owner policy,” she shrugs. “It's only for four hours in the morning - 7 til 11. If you do, it’s quadruple pay...” she lilts, attempting to make it sound appealing.

You squirm uncomfortably, not wanting to let her down but also really not wanting to work on that day. You were looking forward to a duvet and Netflix day with the second most handsome creature in the world (and definitely the most loyal), Chairman Meow.

“Look,” Gen petitions softly. “Prue still has bronchitis. Edie can't switch because she's got some big trip to see her cousins, and l promised my kiddos that I'd be there for them this year… l know it isn't fair, and I can't force you to do it... but you mentioned you are single and your parents are gone. You're the only one…” she trails off, looking awkward.

“...Without family…” you supply glumly, already knowing you will capitulate. At least quadruple pay will come in handy.

��

You are struggling to haul your Aunt Hilda’s Christmas ‘gift’ - a frighteningly enormous box you can tell is choked full of ugly breakables - up the stairs after a long shift when he materialises as he always seems to, just when it is most inconvenient.

Not your prince. No. Sadly not.

Albion “Alby” Finch.

Yep, quite the name. Not one anyone could live up to. But perhaps particularly not him. The well-meaning owner of the building who lives in the ground floor flat. Still adjusting to his status as a landlord since his father passed last year, he is boundlessly friendly in that untrained puppy way. Always wanting to help but always somehow ending up more of a hindrance than anything.

“Oh y/n, that looks tricky; allow me!”

He pushes his glasses up his nose with a pointer finger, then immediately lunges forward and grabs the other side of the heavy box without asking first.

“No, wait….!”

But it's too late.

You had the box precariously balanced, holding it strategically over the poorly taped seams. But his sudden interference has disturbed the contents. You watch as he realises he was wholly unprepared for its weight; his face fleetingly takes on a look of respect that you were handling such a burden.

Time slows like molasses as it slips from his grip, a horrible crunching sound as it hits the step, losing much of its structural integrity in the impact. Then, a calamitous symphony as it tumbles almost poetically down the whole flight, picking up speed as it goes. Yet again, the world is in slo-mo, but not in a good way this time, watching its barrelling path with increasing dread. Both of you wince as the inevitable happens: the spindly legs of the Alby’s heirloom table in the hallway snapping under the duress of poorly packaged terminal velocity porcelain.

“I'm so, so sorry!” he starts, flustering like a bird. “It’s all my fault; I’ll pay for it,” he assures.

“Alby…” you sigh, head slumping back in resignation, staring at the ceiling. You can't be too mad; he has sort of done you a favour, saving you the inevitable trip to the charity shop.

“What can I do to make amends?” He presses on. “May I take you to dinner?”

You are almost shocked that he has finally summoned the courage to ask you out after two years. When you tilt your chin back down, you see the panic rising on his face as he belatedly realises what he did.

“You are my landlord. Probably not a good idea,” you return diplomatically, trying to let him down easily. He is a nice man, and his admiration for cheese is to be respected, but you know you could never see him as anything but a sweet, slightly clueless friend.

“Right-e-o,” he nods, cheeks reddened. “Of course. So rude. Please forgive me.”

You wave a dismissive hand, staring down at the pile of destruction below, dreading the thought of cleaning up.

“I’ll deal with all that up,” Alby gestures, tracking your line of sight.

And for once, rather than help as you inevitably always do, you agree, your feet throbbing after a long day where it seemed every teenager in zone 1 needed a matcha oat latte.

So, as you tumble into your flat, you sigh in relief, flinging off your shoes and pouring a glass of water for yourself and a saucer of cat milk. You may not have your Prince Charming (yet…?), but you have Chairman Meow, who always makes a genuinely excellent fluffy pillow for your favourite brainless binge-watch.

—

It’s as if there is lead in your socks as you shuffle down the pavement and roll up the shutters.

Christmas Day. 6:54am.

Still an hour until sunrise, it's misty and rainy, but then that's typical London, really.

What isn't typical London is the deserted streets. Hardly a soul to be seen, only the very occasional car. Most people are tucked up in bed or, if they are parents, blearily watching their kids tear wrapping paper asunder in pursuit of loud plastic.

When an hour has already passed without a single customer, you are entering a new level of boredom. Inventing new lyrics for the Christmas music playing, balancing stirring sticks into a pagoda-like structure of impressive resilience (it can hold a cup!), cursing the owner who even thought it was a good idea to be open today. It's all a recipe for a sort of irksome ennui.

So when you hear a commotion outside, you almost fall off the stool you have been idly twirling on. Springing from your perch, you run to the glass window, keen for any distraction.

But the sight that greets you has your heart in your throat.

There, in the street, surrounded by a gang of kids in oversized hoodies, is your man. Prince Charming. They are tussling with him, and you realise they are likely trying to mug him of his expensive watch.

You observe helplessly, too scared to confront them, worried that doing so might exacerbate the situation. As you fumble in your apron pocket for your phone, the kids disperse, and to your horror, you see your man lying in the road, worryingly still.

Before you are even conscious of it, instead of dialling 999, you are flinging open the shop door and sprinting towards him.

“Sir! Sir!”

Skidding to a halt and hovering over him, you can see an ugly bruise forming on his left temple already. They must have knocked him out.

“Sir! Please wake up!!”

But there is no response.

You fall to your knees next to him, tapping his cheek lightly with the back of your hand, a sense of dread filling you with every passing millisecond.

Cmon universe! You can't do this! Why can't you take out the ugly ones?! Kidding... Sort of.

As your completely inappropriate internal monologue rages, you grab his shoulders and shake him gently, needing him to get up. Get out of the road, at least.

“Sir! Please! You are lying in the road! Please get up!”

You know it's Christmas Day, so traffic is thankfully light. However, if a bus comes around this blind corner, it will hit you both before it sees you.

Again, nothing from him.

You bend down to place your ear next to his nose and mouth, heart pounding, to see if you can hear breathing, at least.

“Fuck, you smell so good!”

It's out of your mouth before you can censor it, not that anyone is within earshot, this unconscious beauty aside. Your nostrils are filled with expensive, no doubt custom-blended aftershave, which literally makes your mouth water. You have to tamp the sudden urge to bury your face into his neck and inhale deeply.

But then you hear the hiss of air brakes and know a large vehicle is approaching—it could be a bus, could be a lorry. Either way, you are not exactly going to stay here to find out.

Without knowing quite what possesses you, you limpet yourself around his prone body and literally log-roll him out of the road. A blur of frantic tumbling movement that only ceases when your knees encounter the rough stipples of the pedestrian crossing section of the pavement. Shocking even yourself with the strength you are able to muster.

It's incredible what reserves of power you can summon when Prince Charming’s life is on the line, apparently.

As you lay straddled awkwardly on top of him, a street-sweeping lorry barrels around the corner, right over where he was lying. Sweeping up what you suspect was his mobile phone in the process before you could even grab it for him.

Heart racing at the closeness of the call, you collapse on top of him, breathing hard. Trying desperately to ignore the stirring of your traitorous libido at the sensation of muscular thighs clenched between your own.

His eyes flutter open, and you murmur a breathless “hi,” almost losing yourself in their depthless, warm beauty. That is before they roll backwards, and his head slumps to the left.

Just great.

As Michael Buble might sing at this particular moment… ♫ It's beginning to look a lot like a shitshow. ♫

masterlist • wips • taglist (must follow this blog to be tagged)

Taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @ferns-fics @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23

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snail-day · 2 days ago

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Inked: Daddy's Girl

Tattoo Artist! Sukuna x Reader

Previous // part 3 // masterlist

WC: 3k

TW: Yandere Behaviors (possessive & manipulation), Very Toxic Established Relationship, Mean/Jealous Sukuna, Dubcon/Noncon themes, Big Age Gap (Reader is twenties, Sukuna is pushing forty) , Oral m!receiving, Rough sex, use of piercings. Use of Daddy.

A/n: Was going to do Toji instead but...I don't think Toji would like to be called daddy gives him like ptsd

Tattoo Artist Boyfriend!Sukuna who’s rough around the edges - hell, he's nothing but rough edges. Sharp tongue, inked hands, always smells like cigarette smoke and motor oil. He’s the kind of man people glance at twice: once in curiosity, and once in warning. Definitely not the kind they expect to see with someone like you.

You, with your young pretty voice and starry eyes. Barely in your twenties, still figuring yourself out - meanwhile, Sukuna’s pushing forty and already decided you’re his, even if your parents kicked your sweet ass out the house.

He doesn't know how he managed to get you wrapped around his finger. Some nights, he looks at you curled against his chest and thinks you should know better. Thinks you’ll wise up one day.

But not today. Not when you're clinging to his arm like he's gravity. Not when you sit pretty beside him at late-night yakuza dinners, decked out in silk, lip-gloss, and shy little smiles. The Zenin boys tease him for it.

“Robbing the cradle, huh, Ryo?” Teasing him in-betwen sips of beer, if they weren't clients he'd be knocking their eyes out for gawking at your chest. They just love watching what's his. What keeps his bed warm at night. Watching the way you lean into him like you don’t hear a word. He just grins in response - sharp and cocky -tightening his burley-inked arm around your waist.

“Jealous?” he fires back, and lets his hand rest just a little too low. Palm hitching up the hem of your mini dress, enjoying the way you hide your warm cheeks, muttering to stop. It's cute really. Like a little bunny.

Sometimes - rarely - he thinks about how he’s your first for almost everything. Your first boyfriend. First kiss. The first man to touch you like that. That he probably shouldn’t have taken so much from someone so soft, so new.

But then he always remembers the way your body folds for him, soft pliant skin for his roughened hands, how your voice breaks when you moan his name, how you cry when you come - clinging to him like he’s the only thing that makes you feel real. Any hint of guilt burns away. You were too young to know what you needed.

Lucky for you, he did.

Yeah, you’re young. Sweet. Barely know what the hell you’re doing.

But you’re his.

Can’t just be letting go of a perfect little cunt that milks his cock every night. It does something to him, makes him think, just for a second, that maybe he actually loves you.

So it’s not exactly something he plans on fixing anytime soon.

He likes being your first for most things.

Except your first tattoo.

You weren’t stepping foot into his shop. Sukuna’s old school - heavy lines, bold color, blackwork sleeves and dragon back pieces that take twenty hours. Not some dainty little butterfly above the hip. That’s not his style, and he told you flat-out: “I ain’t doing none of that delicate princess shit.”

Besides, he knows you. Knows how you squirm and pout, whine and wriggle at the slightest sting. The brat in you would turn a two-hour session into four, just for attention. (Not that he doesn’t enjoy putting you in your place, but not with gloves on and a machine buzzing in his hand.)

So he didn’t care where you went. Really. As long as the work was clean and they didn’t leave a mess on your skin, he wasn’t gonna throw a fit.

That’s what he told himself, anyway.

But then you came home. Face glowing, bandage peeking out from under your cute little top, practically bouncing as you beamed, “Look! It’s done!”

Of course he was gonna have a look. Had to make sure they didn’t botch it. Had to check the lines, the shading, the healing wrap. Make sure you weren’t upcharged just for being sweet-faced and clueless.

But when you peeled back the wrap, soft skin shining, ink still fresh - his red eyes narrowed. It was pretty. Clean. Finer than he expected. What kind of prissy-ass artist did you go to for this kind of work?

Then he looked closer. And his lip curled. Hidden in the curve of a line. Subtle. Too subtle for you to notice. But he noticed. Of course he did. Only an experienced artist would catch it.

Someone marked their fucking claim.

The rough pad of his thumb brushed over it like he was double-checking. Like maybe he imagined it.

He didn’t.

G.S. Right there swirled into the shading.

His stare went flat.

Geto.

The Gojo clan’s favored pretty boy. Well besides the yakuza clan head. Though Geto, the soft-spoken, smirky bastard with his fancy upscale studio and staged Instagram shots. The one blowing up online with dotwork and minimalist florals like tattooing was some kind of aesthetic lifestyle brand instead of a craft.

Who the fuck puts plants in a tattoo studio and cares about natural lighting?

Geto’s only been featured twice. Meanwhile, Sukuna has been praised, published, and respected for years. He told you that. Told you which artists were safe. Gave you a list. Vetted portfolios. Studios run by pastel-haired girls with gentle hands and sterile tools.

He expected you to go to one of them.

Not to Geto fucking Suguru.

And now that signature’s engraved into your skin.

Of course, Sukuna wasn’t going to throw a fit - not to you, no, no. You’re just his sweet little babe who wanted to look all cool for her older boyfriend that clearly all your friends hate. Catching onto how you're babbling on and on about how Utahime has been friends with Geto. He gets it. Wanted to surprise him, maybe impress him a little. That pretty head of yours wasn’t thinking about hidden signatures or rival artists marking their claim. You were just excited.

And besides, he didn’t have the time to deal with it. He had a full backpiece to draw up for some cocky kid in the Zenin clan, and frankly? He had better things to focus on.

Like the way you look when you’re under his desk, mouth stretched and drooling around his cock while he sketches between grunts and praise. You always find the perfect way to “help” him work.

So, no, he didn’t bring it up. Didn’t mention the initials, or how Suguru must’ve known exactly who you belonged to when he etched those tiny letters into your skin.

But when Sukuna came home from his three-day trip? He wasn’t exactly expecting you to be bashful.

He wasn’t expecting this.

You’re not lounging on the leather couch of his apartment, not curled up in his bed, not running into his arms like you usually do the second he comes back from a trip. You’re in the hallway - half-hidden behind the doorframe like a guilty little bunny, wrapped up in the sheer silk robe he bought you for Valentine’s. The one that barely covers anything. The one he told you was “just for Daddy’s eyes.”

Thin as mist, the sheer fabric clinging to your body, doing nothing to hide the swell of your breasts or the slight stiffness of your nipples pressing through the fabric.

His red eyes narrow into slits.

“You gonna come greet Daddy properly or what?” he drawls, voice low and rough from travel, tinged with irritation, but there's that dangerous gleam in his red eyes. The kind that always means he knows something’s up.

You step out slowly. Bare feet soft against the floor. Fingers nervously tangled in the belt of your robe.

“I… I have a surprise for you, Kuna.”

Sukuna raises a pink brow, drops his duffel on the couch with a heavy thud.

“Yeah?” he says, stepping toward you. “Better be worth the fuckin’ wait.”

You nod, eyes wide and shimmering with anticipation. Then, with trembling fingers, you untie the robe.

It slips from your shoulders and slides down your arms, pooling at your feet.

His gaze drags over your body like smoke, slow and burning with lust.

And then he sees them.

Two silver barbells pierced neatly through your nipples, still pink from the needle, skin taut and freshly marked. They're healing. They're new.

They're not from him.

Sukuna goes completely still.

He steps forward. Then again. Close enough for you to smell the leather and cigarette smoke on his jacket, that manly scent that always makes your head spin. You try to speak - try to explain, defend yourself, maybe soften whatever expression has just settled across his face - but he silences you with nothing more than a sharp grin.

“Well, well…” he mutters, voice dropping low as his hand lifts. “Look at you. Princess is getting a little bold now.”

He cups one breast, rough palm warm over your soft skin. His thumb brushes lightly over the metal, and you flinch, just enough to make his grin widen.

“Still sore?” he asks, all faux sweetness.

You nod quickly, lip trembling. His palm tightens. His other hand lifts too, thumb and forefinger teasing the other barbell, rolling it with ease. Just enough pressure to sting. Just enough to make you gasp, one of his favorite little sounds.

“And who did it?” he asks, even though he already knows. He remembers that offhand little story you told him before he left, how Geto had mentioned piercings. How you’d laughed about it, brushing it off like nothing.

The question isn’t for confirmation.

It’s for you.

For a sweet little thing who should know better.

“Geto,” you whisper, like maybe saying it quietly will make it sting less.

Sukuna laughs. A quiet, mean sound that transforms to an amused hum, stepping closer, mouth brushing the shell of your ear. “Geto’s real fuckin’ bold, huh? Touching my girl’s tits. Thought he could leave his little signature and poke you full of steel?”

His tongue clicks. “Tch. Should’ve come to me, princess. You know I would’ve done it for you.”

You shiver, lashes fluttering, bottom lip caught in your teeth. He leans in, his mouth dragging over your jaw, hot breath curling against your skin.

“You let him touch you here?” His thumb presses down - hard - on the piercing, and a whimper escapes. “Let him roll these sweet little tits around in his hands? Let him make you flinch? Cry a little?”

You try to shake your head, but your voice is stuck somewhere between shame and arousal.

“Don’t worry,” he croons, fingers now rolling both piercings between calloused fingertips. “I’m not mad at you. You didn’t know any better.”

His voice drops to a whisper, soft and vile.

“Didn’t know Daddy would’ve loved to watch your eyes go glassy from the sting. Bet Geto was real gentle, huh? Took his time. Spoke to you nice. What a good little professional.”

You make a small, wounded sound clearly embarrassed, overwhelmed and it only makes him grin grow wider. His hand slides behind your neck, firmly, guiding you to look up at him.

“But now I gotta clean up his mess.” Pressing his forehead to yours, eyes locked on yours, the air thick and hot and possessive. “Now I gotta remind you who the fuck you belong to.”

His hand slips to the back of your hair, rough fingers curling tight, guiding you through the hallway, you’re something he owns and he expects you to understand that. You follow without resistance, robe forgotten on the floor, the cool air brushing your bare skin, making your new piercings ache.

He leads you to the full-length mirror in the bedroom - the one he usually watches you through when he’s got you bent over the edge of the bed, when he wants you to see what you do to him.

But this time? He positions you in front of it. Chest bare. Legs trembling. Face flushed.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, settling behind you, one hand on your hip, the other sliding slowly up your stomach. “Real proud of yourself, huh?”

You try to shake your head, stammer something soft and along the lines of that it was a gift of sorts, but he shushes you with a low hum, nose brushing the side of your neck.

His hand moves higher.

Fingers ghost over one of the barbells, tugging just enough to make you gasp, watching your reflection as your eyes flutter and your lips part.

“Pretty little things,” he murmurs, rolling the piercing between thumb and forefinger. “Too delicate for my style, but you do wear them well.”

He pinches, just a bit harder, and your breath catches. His voice is right against your ear now.

“You let him touch you here? Mark you up while you squirmed on his table?” A small chuckle. “Bet you made those same little sounds too. Didn’t you, sweetheart?”

Your throat tightens.

“Say it,” he presses, watching you in the mirror. “Tell me what he did.”

You blink up at your reflection, lips trembling. “He… he touched me.”

“Where?”

“M-my chest.”

“Like this?” Sukuna’s palm covers your breast completely now, fingers digging in, his thumb brushing over the piercing again, gentler this time - a rare softness. “Was it like this, baby?”

“N-no,” you breathe, eyes glassy. “Not like that. It wasn’t like this.”

That pleases him. You feel it in the way his mouth presses against your neck, the low grunt that rumbles from his chest.

“No,” he agrees, “’Cause he’s not the one you fuck at night.” His other hand comes up, cupping your other breast now, both pierced nipples under his control, sore and swollen and so, so sensitive. He massages slowly, never breaking eye contact with your reflection.

“You know who they belong to now, don’t you?”

You nod.

“Say it.”

“They’re yours,” you whisper, barely audible. Tears clinging to your lashes as you force yourself to look at his red eyes that seem to be holding you in place.

A low growl escapes his throat, satisfied. “Damn right they are.” And then he’s guiding you down to your knees - still in front of the mirror - because he wants you to see exactly what happens to bad little girls who let another man mark their body.

He doesn’t even have to say it - you sink to your knees for him like it’s instinct. Like your body already knows what to do when he gets like this. Your knees press into the hardwood floor, cold against bare skin, as Sukuna stands behind you, gaze fixed on your reflection. His fingers thread through your hair, slow and firm, guiding your face toward his belt.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror,” he mutters, voice rough, thumb dragging across your cheek. “You’re gonna watch yourself while I fuck your mouth - see what it looks like when someone who owns you uses what’s his.”

Your fingers tremble as you reach up to undo his belt, and he lets you, watching the way your hands shake with anticipation. When you pull him out, thick and hard, already leaking for you, he even got a special tattoo just for you. A black thick line at the base of his cock. So that way your pretty little mind knows where to stop everytime.

“Open,” he commands, and you do, lips parted, tongue flat, eyes wide, flickering to the mirror and up at that toothy grin of his.

He slides in slow at first, letting you feel the heavy weight of him on your tongue, but the second your eyes flick up in the mirror - watery, pleading, already so full of him down the column of your throat, his control cracks.

His grip tightens in your hair.

“You’re gonna choke a little,” he chuckles, voice a rasp as his grip tightens around your hair, roughly shoving the full length down, ignoring your choking gags as you tap his thigh for air, nails digging into the skin. “But you’ll take it. You let another man touch what’s mine, so now you’re gonna earn me back.”

He starts moving - hips rolling slow but deep, the kind of pace meant to leave a bruise in your throat. You gag, whimper, spit starting to drip down your chin, but your eyes stay locked on the mirror like a good girl, watching yourself get undone.

“Look at that,” he snarls, fucking deeper. “Suguru ever see you like this? With tears in your eyes and cock in your throat?”

You make a wet, broken sound around him, and he grins.

“That’s right. He didn’t. And he won’t.”

He pulls out with a wet pop, letting you gasp for air, tears streaking your cheeks, spit clinging to your chin. You barely have time to catch your breath before he’s hauling you to your feet and bending you over the vanity - hands pressed to yet another mirror, cheek against the glass.

“See those piercings?” he murmurs, grinding his cock against your ass. “They’re cute. Real cute. But you know what they’re missing?”

You sob out a weak “W-what?”

“My fucking bite marks.”

And when he pushes in, rough, hard, and possessive, it knocks the air right out of your lungs. Your pierced nipples brush the cold mirror, sending sharp little zings through your chest, while his hands anchor hard around your waist, pulling you back to meet every punishing thrust.

“Keep your eyes up,” he growls when your head starts to drop, hands reaching for some form of stability, silent looks into his gaze to slow down because the words refuse to escape your throat. “Wanna see your face while you cry for me.”

But he doesn’t let up. Why would he? Not even when you’re shaking. Not even when you’re babbling his name, your voice cracking between broken gasps. He fucks you until your legs give out, until the mirror is fogged with your breath, until your thighs are sticky, your skin bruised, and your pretty new piercings ache under the press of his chest.

You’re a mess, hair all tangled, makeup smeared, barely able to hold yourself up as he stays buried inside you, one large hand stroking over your hip like he’s trying to soothe you. As his cum threatens to spill out of your pulsing walls. His forehead rests against the back of your neck, breath hot, voice low and full of gravel when he finally whispers:

“Next time you want something pierced… you come to me. Got it?”

A weak nod in response, a soft, fucked-out “yes” falling from your lips. Before he's picking you up in his arms.

Neither of you hear the soft chime of your phone from where it sits charging on the nightstand, screen lighting up with a new message.

💜 Geto 💜: How are the new piercings? Did your boyfriend like them? 😊 I remember you mentioned needing a job while you’re in school - turns out I have an opening. Just desk work lol :) Message me if you’re interested.

Taglist: @the-proper-possum

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #Sukuna #yandere sukuna #Yandere sukuna ryomen #Yandere sukuna x reader #Yandere #Male yandere x reader #Male yandere #Yandere x reader

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criminallyvenomous · 26 days ago

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Espresso Beans and Eyes That Gleam - Spencer Reid X Reader

•Plot - Spencer runs into a barista that catches his eye.

•Warnings - Just fluff and coffee talk

•Word Count - 766

•A/N - once a barista always a barista

It was another mundane morning that you were way too tired to be working through. The café was basically empty, which made you realize that was why you always worked alone on Tuesdays. It’d be a waste of the company’s money to add a coworker to the morning shift. Besides, the Starbucks across the street got most of the business anyways. You finished writing down the sole customer’s order onto the paper cup and began to work on it.

You took the double handed espresso tool and scooped the ground bean blend, pouring it into the espresso spout. You flipped the tool and pressed the circular flat surface onto the espresso blend, putting the spout into the machine and starting it up. As the machine gurgled and spilled out the coffee into the little cups, the door chimed and you looked up to see the strangest pair of friends.

“I have points, Reid. They add up.” Derek was walking with Spencer down the street to grab some coffee before their shift officially started.

“Would you really rather support the big guy over the little? Do you know how many mom and pop coffee shops go under every single year due to corporate greed and companies like Starbucks that don’t even support their own employees, leaving them to battle it out in Union negotiations? It’s astounding.” Spencer ranted.

“Okay, fine. We’ll go to that one. But they better have something sweet for Garcia.” Derek agreed and the two crossed the street to enter the local café.

“You go ahead, I’m gonna take a picture of the menu to send.” Derek ushered Spencer towards the counter and he nodded.

“Double foam oat latte for Sarah.” You said. The customer came up and you handed her the drink. She put a quarter into the tip jar and headed out the door.

“Hi, how can I help you? Do you know what you want to order?”

“Uh, yeah.” Spencer hesitated as his brain focused in on you. You had your hair pulled back, with a few strands falling to frame your face. The apron tied around your sweater had a few pins from media he didn’t recognize, but more notably your name-tag.

“I’ll take a large vanilla soy latte, with an extra shot of vanilla.” He ordered and you wrote it down onto the cup.

“Name?” You asked, marker in hand.

“Spencer. Thanks, Y/N.” He smiled. After he paid, he forgot to even leave the counter, just enchanted by watching you work. Sure, to some it was a menial job that relied on tips, but he recognized the skill required.

“Kid, move over.” Derek nudged, Spencer obliged a little, still standing by the counter as to not lose his view.

“One second.” You looked to the man waiting as you pumped a few shots of the vanilla syrup into a cup.

“What can I get you?” You asked the latter.

“One medium latte with no syrup, and one large vanilla chai latte with oat milk.”

He finished his order and walked over to Spencer, who was just standing at the pickup counter, watching you.

“What is up with you? You looked like a stalker.”

“Nothing, nothing. The coffee making process is just incredibly beautiful.” Spencer said without thinking.

“Beautiful? Oh, I don’t think you’re talking about just the coffee.” Derek laughed, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

“Shut it, Morgan.”

“Just give her your number or something. You’re killing me, kid.”

“Maybe.” He pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and placed it into tip jar, making you look up and give him a smile that made him begin to have butterflies in his stomach.

You finished up Spencer’s drink, putting the lid on. You had taken notice of the man, especially considering his tall handsome stature as he stared at you making his drink. It wasn’t the rarest occurrence, but having the guy be this attractive definitely was. Not to mention the excessive tip for a latte.

“Vanilla soy for Spencer.” You said, handing him his drink. Your fingers brushed and he smiled at you. You wondered what he might do for work.

“I was, uh.” He looked over at Derek who gave him a little ‘go on’ gesture. “Wondering if I could get your number. Maybe we can get a cup of coffee sometime, wait, not coffee.” He internally cursed at himself and you laughed at his awkwardness.

“That would be great.” You smiled and turned to grab the other two drinks.

“Wait, I didn’t get your number.” He called out. You turned.

“Check your cup.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 8 months ago

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Don't cry over spilled milk ◦ l.f

-Accidents happen is an easy thing to say when your daughter didn't just dump a cup of milk on your husband's new black carpet and all of a sudden— you can't breathe

Paring◦ Dad!Lee Felix x Mom!Reader

Words◦ 1633

Genre ◦ Hurt and comfort, ngl this was like really angsty and I didn't mean for it to be 😭, definitely fluffy towards the end though

Warnings ◦ Kinda points towards the fact that the reader might have been abused, descriptions of the readers father being an asshole, talk about abuse, the term beating black and blue, crying, spilled milk, Felix being sickeningly sweet, overuse of love, descriptions of bad dreams, trauma, bleeding, bad thoughts, and wounds (all these are metaphors).

Taglist◦@thetoastghost222I hope you like it <33

A/N ◦this is just something simple and cute I cooked up real fast I didn't really put too much thought into it honestly I just let my brain go also don't judge me but I literally just looked up "cute Korean girl names that mean sunshine" in the search engine and picked the first thing so... also I'm going to be reuploading all my old stuff into my new blog in one fair swoop soooo I'm rereading this and there's something about my writing I have always noticed is off so if anybody can point it out/ give me advice I would literally appreciate it so much

~cookiecreates 🍪

You took "Don't cry over spilled milk" very seriously because it took every fiber of your being not to sob when Ha-Yun's glass of milk dropped on Felix's new carpet, throwing a vibrant white stain on the expensive black furnishing. You really don't know how many different adjectives your brain could come up with to describe the horror you felt pounding in your heart.

It was as though this moment was a portal into the deepest caverns of your mind—a key that unlocked a swarm of memories flickering in the back of your brain like fireflies. You squeeze your eyes shut, pushing back the flood of bad feelings that seem to wash over you quicker than you can wipe them away—You're transported back to those days when your head was high and your hands were small, spilling milk on your dad's new carpet. You were so little, so naive, you didn't know that the world wasn't all butterflies and unicorns; that milk stained and dads got mad. You vowed to be the parent who held their baby's hand as they picked it up, smiling when they threw the dirty towel in the trash.

Accidents happen.

But you don't know if that's what Felix vowed to do, and with the carpet being 600 dollars, you wouldn't be surprised if he beat the poor girl black and blue.

Just like your dad did.

Your fingers tremble as you grip the cup in your hands, the world seems to swirl around you, swimming in all your bad dreams. It only took a teaspoon to die and a bad thought to drown. How easy it is to be pulled under the waves when you're vulnerable. You thought you kept the sea at bay, but even the most experienced divers can get pulled into a riptide.

The cup clatters in the sink, startling you out of your thoughts. Ha-Yun babbles in the corner, throwing cheerios to the ground. This was all your fault; you shouldn't have put her high chair in the living room.

All your fault.

All your-

The lock clicks.

Your heart drops, plummeting into the grave in which you buried all your pain. You scramble to find something to cover the stain. In all your panic, you forget that shit doesn't magically go away, sticking to your skin like syrup dripping down your spine. Everything was spinning in your vision as your lungs contracted, you wondered if you could really drown in theoretical oceans, especially the ones that occupied your mind.

It all seemed so silly as Felix's frame came into view, like he was made entirely from watercolor pouring down the page. You threw the towel over the mess, attempting to conceal your sobs.

Maybe he'll walk away.

Maybe he's too tired to notice.

Maybe you can spare his wrath.

“Love,” Felix's deep voice floats into your ears like cotton candy disintegrating under the waves of words you drown in. Scars were never promises on the skin; the human body is a delicate chemistry, and with the right motivation, it can crumble.

You snap. Break apart. Succumb to the river of sentences that stuck to your skin, like honey and glass. Time heals all wounds, but what about the ones that never scar, never scab? What about the ones whose vile words poisoned the flesh, eating away at your soul? Time doesn't heal all wounds because sometimes wounds are just too deep. Strong arms wrap around your huddled frame, your face drawn to your knees.

“I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." you sob mindlessly, it was as though your younger self control—caught in a weird form of fight or flight—dissociating from reality.

“Sorry? Sorry for what, love?” He whispers, dropping to the floor and pulling you onto his lap. He's so gentle, so calm, so completely opposite of any love you have ever felt or any father you have ever seen.

"Milk-" You choke; your words getting caught in your throat. You dig your face into his shoulder. "She spilled the milk on the carpet. I'm so sorry." The tears keep coming as though you're bleeding all the emotions you had kept under wraps for too long; it was like an infection, and Felix's loving arms cleansed your wounds.

"Oh, love," he coos, petting your hair, "didn't anybody ever tell you not to cry over spilled milk." You can't help but chuckle, a weird mix between a sniffle and a sob.

You must look like such a wreck right now—face blotchy and red, snot dripping down your nose, tears pouring down your cheeks—you look like you just crawled out of the pits of hell, and he still looks at you like you're the most beautiful woman he's ever laid his eyes on.

In that moment, you feel so silly, so stupid, kinda wanting to crawl back into the pits of hell from which you came. You should have known he wasn't going to react the way your father had. Felix was nothing like the man; he was kind, he was gentle, he was all sunshine and smiles, he was safe.

"I'm sorry for being such a wreck." You cuddle deeper into his chest, sniffling into his shirt.

"Never be sorry for being human, and especially, never be sorry for showing me." It took everything in you not to break down again, letting his strong arms hold you while you scrubbed all the syrup from your soul, but you have a baby and a mess on the carpet that will be ten times harder to clean if you leave it sitting.

"I'll go get another towel," you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"Don't," he pulls you back down on his lap, “Put your arms around me.” You lock your hands behind his neck, yelping when he picks you up bridal style.

“What- Felix, what are you doing?” You squeal as he walks you to the couch, laying you gently on the cushions.

“I'm showing you how to clean up spilled milk,” He smirks like you didn't just destroy his 600-dollar carpet; his attitude genuinely baffles you.

"How are you not mad?” You whispered, dazed, your mind turning into mush. He tilts your chin up, peering at you with a soft smile and kind eyes. Your breath hitches, little heart eyes popping in your pupils.

"Accidents happen, love, you never grow out of’em." You melt, literally disintegrating into a pile of goo on the couch.

"D-Do you, um, D-Do you need help?" You stutter, blinking harshly to try and gather your thoughts. It was as if his gentle heart short-circuited your tangled wires—knotted from years of wear and lack of care.

"You just sit there and look pretty, and I'll show you why you shouldn't cry over spilled milk." He kisses you softly, smiling on your skin, "Okay, baby," he breathes, passion crackling between your lips, "You just keep-" Ha-Yun screeches, slapping her high chair full of Cheerios. Felix groans, tipping his forehead to touch yours.

"You know, one of these days we've got to get a babysitter. I don't know how long I can stand just being able to admire my beautiful wife from afar," your cheeks burn as you tilt your head down bashfully, "Well maybe we can do that when milk isn't marinating on the floor," he claps, jumping up from his arched position, "yep, your right, jeez baby, you really know how to pull me away from a task."

You cheese, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face. "Go on," you shoo him away, "You were going to teach me something."

He smirks, walking over to the kitchen, pulling the roll of paper towels off the counter and tossing them down next to the mess, unlocking Ha-Yun's highchair to lift her out of it.

"What are you-"

"Shh sit there and look pretty," The way his eyes sparkle and his lips tilt makes him appear almost mischievous. You sink back into the couch, folding your arms in front of your chest, assessing him intently. Ha-Yun beams when she sees Felix, waving her arms around, spitting gobbly gook.

"Oh is that right, well I couldn't have ever guessed," he nods attentively like she just stated the stages of evolution, "Well, as much as I love this conversation, baby, you are going to need to clean up your mess". He chastises her gently, and she frowns, glaring at him, he lifts his brows in retort.

"You know you've got a lot of sass for a 4-year-old," he grumbles "Probably got it from your momma," he sends you a look, lips curled up in a smirk. Your jaw drops in faux offense.

"You know what-" he puts his finger to his lips, cutting you off.

"Were you this bad in school? Cause the teacher," he gestures to himself, "is teaching."

"I'm gonna-"

"Looking pretty," He singsongs, a smile playing on his lips. You bite your cheek, holding back your glare. He snickers, placing her down next to the milk—putting a paper towel in her tiny hands.

"Can you help daddy clean it up please," he squats down to her level, stretching his fingers over hers. She blinks down at the splattered milk. You can almost see the gears turning in her head when he starts carefully moving her hand back and forth over the mess.

"See!" he cheers, his eyes glowing with pride, "Accidents happen, you just gotta learn to clean them up."

Watching the scene unfold before you fills you with an obscene form of bliss, like you have achieved one of life's greatest victories—that maybe all dads weren't raging assholes that yelled when you spilled milk because, like Felix said, accidents happen—you never grow out of'em.

©CookieCreates (posted: June, 26th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

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sharkorok · 1 year ago

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knight in shining armor!

or where ZB1 helps you out against unwanted advances!

requested: nooo

cw/genre: reader inferred to be fem on various occasions, fluff, humor, uncomfortable comments, unwanted flirting, no yujin because if they’re younger than me u know that’s crazy, cursing, established relationship w/ zb1, tell me if anything else shud be tagged yay

a/n: I’m working on all the situationship requests but it’s getting a little redundant so I decided to try writing some other ideas I had :] hope it’s ok and u enjoy!

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

jiwoong

-tbh I don’t think he’ll be super duper confrontational unless necessary, mainly cuz he doesn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position :((

-you two were just out setting up for a picnic and he left for a second to grab something from the car, and some random guy strolled you to you ready to spit game but honestly you were already thinking of the right time to call the police

-“heyyy are u a fire hydrant because i’d bump into you on the street and stare” was the guy’s opening line which made you audibly laugh, mainly in shock and not flattery because genuinely what the fuck

-“uhhh??”

-you were very thankful for the return of your boyfriend who just shot the guy a confused glance and was like “who r u…?”

-jiwoong was genuinely appalled that this guy thought he had a chance w u, so just calmly explained you two were dating while staring at the stranger

-would really only get pressed if he noticed the guy getting more pushy and aggressive, but once he was gone he’d mainly he focused on trying to take your mind off the situation rather than comforting u :) you guys came here for a cute picnic date and he didn’t want you stuck ruminating over someone like that

-not really jealous, just mad that you were forced in such a weird situation

-u get tons of kisses and he’ll definitely be joking about this in the car

zhanghao

-you and ur lovely boyfie hao were at a new cafe trying out the seasonal menu, both of you knew the place would be bumping so you decided to just place your orders online in advance :)

-being the wonderful person you are you went to pick up the drinks while he got you two a table, and the barista stopped you with a smile

-“hey, I think you’re really beautiful, here’s a pastry on the house!” and you just smile and thank him, but he’s gone before you can even add the fact you have a boyfriend

-free food is free food so u take it back and tell hao what happened who’s gigglin because he’s very comfortable in ur guys’ relationship and this is more silly if anything, is glad other people recognizes ur beauty too <3

-however, the barista comes back to “check up on you” and is a little crestfallen at the sight of zhanghao but brushes it off

-“hey gorgeous, just wondering if everything’s alright? can I get you anything else?”

-“awww thank you, but my girlfriend and I are alright! I think you’re pretty gorgeous as well though :)” hao responded with the most witty smirk you’ve seen in ages, as you fight the urge to snicker at the barista’s seemingly annoyed reaction

-“yes…thanks” was all the barista could mutter out before leaving, causing the two of you to burst out laughing

-expect hao to be milking the joke that the barista was hitting on him instead of you for the rest of the day lolz

hanbin

-is so calm and gentle about the whole situation but takes it very seriously that you feel safe and comfortable

-it was just a waiter throwing some off-handed remarks about how nice your hair looked, or how the dress fit you so well or how your makeup looked great, and it didn’t make hanbin insecure, more worried you would feel awkward during your two’s little date :(

-neither of you want to explicitly stay anything in case the waiter was just being very nice, so hanbin would sort of up the outward affection by holding your hand over the table, brushing your hair out of your face while you talked, smiling with extra-sweet puppy dog eyes, if anything it was just giving you butterflies

-“you alright pretty girl? we can find somewhere else if the waiter is making you uncomfortable” and you wanna scream and kiss him all over because hanbin is a walking green flag !!!

-at some point the waiter gave up but you didn’t really notice because of how your heart was doing backflips over hanbin’s displays of affection and how much he evidently cared about ur comfort throughout the whole date I’m bawling my eyes out

-on the way home he admits he did get a little insecure but he was mainly worried about you so plz give him lots and lots of kisses and promise him that you are literally madly in love w him cuz u R!!

-wants to take good care of you but is extra appreciative if you remind him that you’re very thankful for his efforts I’m sobbing now bye

matthew

-“bro what” is what matthew very loudly says when a random guy walks up to you and asks for your number

-is genuinely baffled because he thought it was pretty clear with his arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you walked down the street

-also a sense of pride that you’re so hot that someone’s willing to stop you in the middle of the street for your number, but the pride is damaged once he remembered this guy seemed to completely ignore *the* matthew?? who was evidently holding you close and wearing your initial around his neck?? like hello???

-the conversation doesn’t feel real because you say, “oh I have a boyfriend!” while gesturing towards matthew and the guy literally just brushes it off??

-“dude, I’m right here, can you get the hint? go homewreck another relationship,” matthew interrupted after an unbearable minute or two of this man trying to convince you to slide ur digits ;P

-is all grumpy while muttering about how you two need to be more LOUD about ur relationship

-probably tries to convince you to buy those “I <3 MY BOYFRIEND” shirts and even thinks about getting you two more matching clothing

-“maybe I should wife you up?? the ring should be a pretty convincing hint…”

-just doesn’t want random people to get in the way of you two :(( in the least toxic way possible :((

taerae

-audibly laughs the second he sees some random guy stumbling over his words trying to talk to you at the grocery store

-he went to go grab you two some snacks and came back to this poor boy just frantically trying his best to convince you for your number while you awkwardly nod and sheepishly smile, eyes flickering around to try and see where the hell your boyfriend is

-if he notices you’re genuinely weirded out by the guy he’ll step in, but I feel like he would let you endure the awkwardness for just a moment before arriving by your side and being like “heyyy baby”

-makes a big show of kissing your temple and wrapping his arms around your waist, giving the guy a disgusted look and a sassy, “who’s this, sweetheart?”

-you’re trying not to laugh at taerae’s snide demeanor, making you immediately feel all giggly and okay again knowing he’s right here by your side

-the guy scurries off pretty fast, which made the two of you giggle

-“I can’t even leave my girlfriend alone in a grocery store,” taerae jokingly sighed, shaking his head solemnly. “Maybe I should switch to DoorDash or something, I don’t want you getting swarmed every time I go to the chips aisle.”

-makes sure to hang closely around you, not in a jealous way or anything, but he doesn’t want random guys walking up to u and making u all uncomfortable :(

-holds your hand all the way until the two of u get home!! <3

ricky

-he can shy up but he’s mainly just worried about you, gets a little protective but feels very awkward about it, doesn’t want to seem possessive or over bearing but also just wants to take care of u and makes sure ur safe :(

-but also like wtf no one gets to mess w his girl that’s just weird

-you two were clothes shopping when you wandered off to look at a pretty jacket you saw when a random guy you’re very sure you never met casually greeted you like you were an old friend, making weird remarks about how pretty you were and not so subtly asking questions that insinuated if you were single or not

-ricky comes back to see if ur doing alright and finds u very uncomfortably scooting away from this random guy, and he immediately comes to ur rescue!

-“hey baby, who’s this?”

-now we all know ricky is a sweetheart but he can also come off as very intimidating 😰😰 , so he’s sorta just straightening out his posture and staring at the guy in disgust

-once the guy leaves because…yknow ricky is seemingly a force to be reckoned with ricky gets all shy and awkward

-“was that corny? should I have even stepped in? r u okay…?” and he’s just shyly hiding ur face in his shoulder and getting all embarrassed and flustered, and u reassure him u appreciate his efforts very very much <3

gyuvin

-gyuvin can be very protective over you sometimes so the idea of you being forced into an uncomfortable situation by some random guy made him very upset

-honestly he was kinda more upset than you, and not in an insecure way but just in the way he was upset *for* you

-guys imma be fr I’m out of ideas for a random dude being creepy so let’s just cut to gyuvin confronting this dude

-he’s not really confrontational or aggressive, but just makes it very clear to leave his little baby y/n alone </3, afterwards he definitely lightens the mood to the best of his ability

-he’s more worried the entire time about your safety over his, even if the guy making advances towards you is getting agitated gyu is entirely concerned about ur well-being :(( my angel

-“baby don’t worry…ur alpha is here for u 😚😜🐺…” “gyuvin shut the FUCK up”

-obviously if ur feeling seriously upset he makes sure everything’s ok, asks if you need anything, gets you some snacks and gives u a big hug

-is unnecessarily clingy the rest of the way home tho <3 might even bark at any guy who looks at you funny depends on how shameless he’s feeling

gunwook

-he isn’t too hasty to jump in just in case he’s overestimating the entire situation, because poor guy doesn’t wanna come off as overbearing and freak you out by randomly swooping in for no apparent reason </3

-does his absolute best to be assertive but also not overly aggressive in order to avoid causing a scene and put both of you in an even worse situation

-once he’s sure there’s no more need for intimidating wook he’s all over u!!

-“are you ok? do you want me to tell authorities about that? can’t fight but I will if necessary trust”

-if u reassure him that he did good and you’re alright, he’ll be very very pleased w himself

-gives you a kiss every time you take a step and has his arms wrapped around your shoulders, he wants everyone to know that ur his and he’s yours and no way will he let any random guy ruin ur little outing!!

-does your best to make you feel safe the rest of the entire day

-has the biggest smile on his face if you tell him he did a good job, it’s not in a weird way where he’s putting himself above you but sorta in the way he feels like a proud dog for being able to take care of you?? if that makes sense?? at all??

-gives you a big hug when u gets home and does everything to make sure that rando didn’t ruin ur twos’ day :,)

#zb1 fluff #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #zb1 x reader #zb1 reactions #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone reactions #zerobaseone scenarios

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reginaphalangelobster125 · 2 months ago

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Perfect

Steve Rogers x gn!reader

Summary: Steve wants the perfect photo.

Warnings: fluffy fluff fluff, both reader and Steve are nervous blushing messes but Steve is definitely worse, slightly insecure reader but not really, I think that's all.

You and Steve were pretty close friends, you started off joining him on his morning runs and pretty soon you formed a friendship. You taught him things of the modern world and he told you all his old stories from the 30s and 40s. With a lot of time, you taught him how to send texts. After he grasped the concept he really enjoyed it. It took him a while to work up the nerve to send you a selfie but when he finally did he had the biggest, goofiest smile and the second you saw it you burst out giggling. It quickly became his new contact photo. He asked you for one and you sent him a photo in which you just had a simple smile. It was a nice photo but to Steve, something about it didn't capture your true beauty. He made it his mission to get the perfect photo of you, one in which you were completely, truely you.

He would stare at his sketches of you and see a different version of you. He would see you raw, he always sketched you when you weren't looking so you couldn't pose or put on a smile. In his sketches he caught your genuine side. Like when you'd furrow your brows slightly if you were late to the kitchen and all the milk was gone or that time you and he went to the park and a butterfly landed on your finger. Every time he saw your innate, unfiltered beauty he would take a mental photograph that he'd never forget. But that wasn't quite enough, he wanted a real photograph.

On his last birthday Tony got Steve a camera.

'Maybe now you can take a photo instead of staring all the time' he said looking at you.

Steve went to his room and dug the camera back out. He bought some film and waited for the perfect opportunity. He spent the next few weeks snapping photos when you weren't looking but none of them were right. He thought you looked beautiful in all of them but it still wasn't what he was looking for. Speaking technically those photos could have won awards but he still couldn't see you.

Some random day you asked Steve if he wanted to go for a walk through the park, he obviously said yes. He took a bag with him so he could hide his camera, not wanting to raise your suspicions. You decided to get some strawberry ice cream from a quaint little cart. You asked steve if he wanted any but he declined thinking this would be the perfect chance to snap the photo. You started to walk back through the park, ice cream in hand, and for some unknown reason, you felt extra happy today. You didn't know why but you had your suspicions, namely Steve. You always found yourself smiling when entered the room and just generally happier in his presence. You were walking slightly a head of Steve as he had slowed in hopes to take the picture. Then it happened. He saw you. He quickly pressed the camera button and he finally got it. The perfect picture. You heard the strange clicking sound and looked at Steve. You walked over to him and asked about the camera to which he blushed and stared to stutter.

'I-I just wanted to get a-a-um-a photo' he said, his face painted in a bright red blush.

'If you wanted a photo you could've just asked, Steve' you replied, stifling a giggle at his adorable, nervous behaviour.

'No I couldn't, that-that's the point'

'What point?'

'You're always beautiful, but I wanted to get a photo of the real you, underneath everything else you're amazingly beautiful in the mundane moments'

Your heart fluttered at his words, he'd said you looked beautiful before but you always thought he was just being nice, but not now, now he was truly genuine.

A small, pink blush began to creep up your neck and onto your cheeks.

'Th-thank you' you muttered sheepishly 'can I see it?'

He fumbled with the buttons and showed it to you.

'It's beautiful' you said, mesmerised by the photo. 'I mean-' you blushed, not wanting to sound vain. 'I didn't know I looked like that, how did you get it to look so good?' you ask, still surprised by Steve's actions.

'You always look like that'

'No I don't'

'To me you do'

You both blush more as you stare up into his big, blue eyes. You eventually, turn your eyes back to the camera in your hands and you see more photos.

'Steve, how many photos did you take?'

'I wanted it to be perfect, like you'

You stare back up at the man who you just noticed is standing very close to you. He moved one of his arms up and placed a hand on your face, gently cradling the back of your head, his thumb softly caressing your cheek as he held your gaze. He brought his other hand up and lightly rested it on your waist. You brought a hand to his cheek mirroring his touch on you. He leaned down slowly, giving you plenty of time to back out, which you sure as hell weren't going to do. His lips were unbelievably soft as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, capturing them in what truly was the perfect moment.

#marvel #mcu #steve rogers #avengers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #mcu fluff #marvel fluff #avengers fluff #gn reader #steve rogers x gn reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x male reader

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kindlefire21 · 2 months ago

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Baby Arondekar Headcanon👻🍼🤰

During Pregnancy

All of the ghosts (including the basement ghosts and British soldiers) would be so happy that Sam is pregnant as most of them haven’t seen a baby centuries

Thorfinn would be overprotective of Sam during her pregnancy, making sure she doesn’t fall or bump into anything. He would even pull out his axe to keep them ghosts out of Sam’s way

Pete and Hetty would go overboard on parenting advice even when some of their tactics are outdated

Pete: “You should use scotch or whiskey to soothe the baby’s teething.”

Hetty: “Formula for milk? How absurd! The nanny breastfeed my children and they turned out strong.”

Possibly Alberta would give up her bedroom so Sam and Jay could turn it into the baby’s room

Trevor would admit Sam has the “pregnancy glow.”

The ghosts would be curious on modern baby items like breast pumps or baby monitor and celebrations such as the baby shower and gender reveal party

Isaac and Hetty would give their advice on decorating the baby’s bedroom (Isaac would insist on a dinosaur-themed nursery)

Flower would forget that Sam is pregnant and congratulate her every single time

When it comes to naming the baby, the ghosts would have some suggestions

Thor: “Little baby will make great warrior! Needs strong name like Solvieg, Brynhild, Ragnar!”

Sassapis: “What about Weenjipahkihelexkwe for a girl? It has a nice ring to it.”

Issac: “As long as it’s not Alexander or Alexandra or Alex! That baby should not be named after Hamilton.”

Hetty: “We need a strong, regal name such as Adeline or Silas.”

Alberta: “I got it! Alberta or Albert if it’s a boy.”

Flower: “Maybe something like Sage, Rainbow, Butterfly or River Rock.”

Pete: “For a girl, Jessica. For a boy, Kevin.”

Trevor: “Okay, Zack would be good for a boy. For a girl, I’ll go with Tara after the legendary Tara Reid.”

Pete would definitely tag along to all the doctor’s appointments

Out of boredom, Trevor and Sassapis would start a bet with all the ghosts on the baby’s gender: Trevor, Alberta, Thor, Hetty, Flower, and possibly Nigel would bet on a boy; Pete, Sas, Isaac, Nancy, and some of the basement ghosts bet on a girl

The ghosts would watch and criticize Jay as he struggles with assembling up the crib

Alberta and Hetty would fight over being the baby’s godmother while Pete would name himself the godfather

After Giving Birth (this is for if the baby is boy or girl)

Pete would go with Sam and Jay to the hospital and come back to Woodstone Manor to tell everyone that the baby is born and healthy.

The Ghosts would gather as Sam and Jay come home with their new bundle of joy.

Pete and Alberta takes turns guarding the door to make sure none of the ghosts bother Sam while she’s recovering

Some of the ghosts want to hold the baby but remember they can’t

Sas would use his powers to go into the baby’s dreams to make sure he/she get a good long sleep

Trevor would pretend he doesn’t like babies or kids but he eventually admits he loves the baby

Alberta will hum a lullaby for the baby

If the Baby can see the Ghosts

As the baby gets older, the ghosts realize he/she can see them as the baby responds to Thor’s shouting or any of them making faces to the baby.

Flower would play peek-a-boo with him/her for hours.

The baby will go to sleep or calm down to Thor’s lullaby or Alberta’s singing

Sas would tell him/her bedtime stories

The ghosts have to make sure the kid doesn’t run through Flower or Isaac as their powers will go off

He/She will get confused and try to walk through the door and walls like the ghosts

The kid will try to hold the ghosts’ hands but the ghosts fight through the pain

He/She would be scared of the basement ghosts as first but eventually likes them

Nigel, Jenkins, and Baxter (including Carol) may not be too fond of the child but eventually go visit at Woodstone as they haven’t seen a child in centuries (or Caorl insists as she was a mother/grandmother)

As the kid grows older, they start referring the ghosts as their aunts and uncles

“Aunt Flower, look at this caterpillar I found!”

“Uncle Isaac, are you a pirate?”

“I don’t wanna hunt a squirrel, Uncle Thor. I want hot dogs for dinner!”

“Tell me another story, Uncle Sas.”

“Aunt Berta, sing me another song.”

“Uncle Trevor, where are your pants?”

“I wanna watch Ninja Turtles with Uncle Pete.”

“You talk funny, Aunt Hetty!”

Uncle Trevor would have their living niece/nephew on the internet searching up things for him

Aunt Flower and Uncle Sas would take the kid on nature walks and explore the woods

Uncle Thor would play fight and insist on his niece/nephew on hunting their own food

Aunt Hetty would teach her descendant proper etiquette and manners (and secretly give speech classes)

All the ghosts would participate in dress up parties and playing games like hide and seek (Flower would forget she’s hiding)

He/She would have fun playing dinosaurs with Uncle Isaac

Aunt Alberta would sing or use Alexa to play song for her living niece/nephew to dance and sing

Uncle Pete would go to all school programs, dance recitals, and sports games to cheer on him/her.

He/She would include them in family projects at school such as drawings

“That’s my mom and dad. That’s Aunt Berta, Uncle Trevor, Uncle Pete, Aunt Flower, Uncle Isaac, Aunt Hetty, Uncle Sas, and Uncle Thor. They live in my house but they can’t leave except Uncle Pete—he’s right there!”

San and Jay would tell people they’re just his imaginary friends

He/She might get curious on the ghosts

“Momma, how come you and I can see them but Daddy can’t?”

“Uncle Pete, how come you can come with me but Aunt Hetty or Uncle Thor can’t leave?”

“Aunt Flower, how can you go through the doors and I can’t?”

Sam might have to explain the ghosts are ghosts to her child. Nonetheless, he/she would still love their ghostly aunts and uncles

#cbs ghosts #woodstone ghosts #hetty woodstone #ghosts #sam arondekar #jay arondekar #trevor lefkowitz #isaac higgintoot #thorfinn #flower ghosts #alberta haynes #sassapis #pete martino #ghosts headcanons

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grinnames · 3 months ago

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MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE

Ok, so I may have gone overboard with this very very rough sketch of everyone I wanted to wish a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to. Please enjoy this last minute Christmas gift that was DEFINITELY DONE BEFORE MIDNIGHT

Anyways, we're kidnapping the Sandy Claws, ehehehehe!

Me: Baiting Santa with milk and cookies on a fishing pole

@bear-boi-5: Getting Santa's attention to said milk and cookies with a nifty sign

@oppsiedoo: Has a bazooka to shoot Santa out of the sky

@bluestrawberrybunny: Will use a giant butterfly net to catch Santa as he falls out of the sky

@libbytwq: Has cloth and chloroform to knock out Santa

@clowntrickery08: Has a spiked bat to doubly knock out Santa

@michealscorneroftheinternet: Has the rope to tie up Santa

@novajuniper: Has a sack to secure the goods (Santa)

@nxva-blogz/Hexsy: Defends us from the police with the handy dandy shotgun, and from Santa if necessary

@supern0vashii/SMG6: Carries the bowl of carrots for safely luring the reindeer away, because we don't practice animal cruelty

And have a happy new year!

#merry christmas #happy holidays #late christmas present #kidnap the sandy claws #we're saving christmas!#this is the master plan #silly idea #rough sketch #rough sketch that took too long

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zentraex · 2 years ago

Note

Could u do an arrange/forced marriage of aizawa fic please ❤️ (Maybe mafia AU?)

Thank you so much for this request! This is my first one and it made me so happy! I hope I didn't disappointed you or something like that.

Like always, English is not my first language and German grammar is a lot different than English grammar. So, sorry for any mistakes.

Trigger Warnings: forced marriage, slightly yandere, mentioning of a gun

Also, I got an inspiration for the last few sentences from a picture in Pinterest. So, it wasn't really my idea, but fitted really well.

I hate you

The detailed planning should make you feel like you're floating above clouds. The closer the day gets, the wilder the butterflies should fly in your stomach.

It should be the most beautiful day of your life: your wedding day.

A nightmare. This is a nightmare.

But why is it exactly the opposite for you?

Locked up in your room, the only retreat you had left until now, the day scratched squeaking at your door.

You dreaded this day, so much that the nausea in you grew bigger and bigger.

It is the worst day of your life: your wedding day.

Clack

The shackles around your hands are straining at your wrists. Just...what shackles? The ones you imagine?

How could you end up like this?

Your gaze wanders to the empty seats which are reserved for your parents.

True, they are to blame... Or rather yourself?

When did it all start?

Your family was a normal baker's family, nothing special. You were happy to follow their footsteps and take over the shop later.

You would have had regular customers, 70% of them would have been old seniors, and you would have chatted happily with them. Who knows, maybe that's how you would have found the love of your life?

Your future partner wouldn't have wanted anything big, just a few rolls, but he wouldn't have known which ones. You would have advised him and your way of talking and smiling would have charmed him. He would have come again and then more regularly, and slowly, the two of you would be something more.

You've always raved about it. Who would have thought that this dream turned out to be a nightmare?

Shota Aizawa or Eraser Head as he is called in his mafia group, was actually the one customer, “your true love".

Your parents wanted to have an evening to themselves, so you had to take over the shop.

"Welcome," you smiled. The man in front of you was tall. His black hair was disheveled and hung down to his shoulders. His red eyes were only half open. He looked like he had been through several sleepless nights.

"A few bread rolls."

For a moment, there was silence between you as you waited for him to give a more precise order.

"Which ones and how many?"

His tired eyes wandered through the variety of bread rolls your bakery had to offer.

"Which ones are good?"

A proud grin formed on your lips.

"I'd say they are all of the best quality, but if you ask me what my favorites are, it's definitely the milk bread rolls."

"Yes, then I'll take those."

You almost sighed out loud. What was with that guy?

"And how many?"

His eyes glanced briefly at your smile.

"All of them."

Your eyes widened when you heard this almost absurd order. Unsure, you analyzed the stranger in front of you, only to get a completely serious look in response.

"Okay... do you want another coffee? You look very tired."

"No, the work just gives me a lot of headaches. That's all."

"Oh, I know that only too well! I always catch my parents feeling exhausted after a day full of work."

The man in front of you raised an eyebrow. "Your parents?"

"Yes, they own the store. Normally I just help out, but every now and then I get to take over.

The stranger just nodded.

"So, that would be then..."

Your neighborhood was known for having a dangerous mafia group. There were many reasons why, despite all this, so many lived here. One of the reasons was because the rents weren't too high. Aside from that, it was rather on the edge of the town and therefore there was not really anything going on. The neighborhood was peaceful, if the mafia was left out. Most people were always nice to you and only a few were bullies. But the smiling faces could never hide the fear in the eyes of the people. Many shops had to close out of nowhere and many people disappeared suddenly. You could never be sure if someone was a member of the mafia, as no one dared to reveal their identity.

That's why you didn't recognize him, just like all the other times: the man everyone feared the most.

How could you? Not even the members of the mafia gang themselves knew what their boss looked like.

That's why you always greeted him with the widest smile you've had. First week after week and then day after day. A friendly smile quickly turned into a loving one...

"It's funny how long we've known each other and yet I never got your name."

"It's also the first time you've brought it up, Reader. Do you want to know?"

But there is one thing everyone knew about the boss of the mafia...

"Don't ask if you already know the answer," you answer with a wink.

The name.

„Shota Aizawa.“

Your eyes widened and your breath stuck in your throat.

"W-What? I don't think I got your name right."

Casual as always, he rested his head on his palm and looked at you with a smirk.

„Shota Aizawa.“

Your profuse sweating lasted until he left. Did he mean it as a joke? How could you talk so peacefully with a criminal for so long ?

Even worse, how could you fall in love with someone like that?

Since that day, you had avoided working in the bakery and spent a while in a friend's apartment. Maybe that was the most decisive mistake you made.

"500,000 Dollar or our store closes? What have we done to make it happen to us?"

Nothing. Your parents had absolutely nothing to do with it. It had been your fault that you had bewitched him and then disappeared.

"How are we supposed to get so much money together in three days?"

You had ridden your parents into misfortune.

The three days passed slowly. Your family came to terms with the fact that you can't get the money together and so you all just waited for your end. Shota didn't show up during that time either.

Too your surprise, The boss himself was present at the day of reckoning. This time, Shota was wearing a suit and his hair was styled back. He was bent forward, his arms resting on his knees, and his hands are intervened. Typical for him are his half-open eyes and the corners of his mouth pulled down. Usually it made you smile, at that time it sent shivers down your spine.

"The money?" he asked. During all this, he hadn't even given you a quick glance.

"Unfortunately, we don't have it. You know-", your father couldn't even finish talking, Shota immediately interrupted him with a shot of his gun. Your breath trembled, and your sweat ran down your face continuously.

"I don't want to hear excuses," Shota muttered and sighed. "You know what that means?"

None of you cried or pleaded. You have already finished with your lives three days ago.

"Normally, you have to pay with your life..."

That was true. In the best case, one was allowed to die, otherwise most women became prostitutes and men became slaves. It hit you very badly when one were given the title of a pet. You only heard rumors of how one had to eat dog food.

"But I'm generous today."

A wide grin suddenly spread across Shota's lips.

"Either the two of you," he said, pointing to your parents, "die or you give me your daughter as a bride. You can even help with the planning."

You didn't even have the right of codecision. It was also the last time you saw your parents. As far as you know, they had packed their things and moved…wherever.

While Shota was bursting with satisfaction, your world collapsed.

And this is still the case today.

Why me?

The wedding march in the background, which made you dream of your future in the past, sounds distorted to you, like the music in a horror movie. Even though the walls of the church are colorful, you see them only with a black and white filter.

Why do you progress so fast when you walk as slowly as you can?

Stay away from me, I hate you.

Worst of all, however, is his mangy grin. Everything in you is screaming out to rip it out of his face.

I hate you!

Except for the 4 closest confidants of Shota, there are no other guests. Your parents have received an invitation, but why should they come?

When you arrive at Shota's side, the first tears roll down your face.

"We have gathered today because Shota Aizawa and Reader want to enter into the covenant of marriage. Love..."

Love? What love?

"... endures everything, believes everything, hopes everything, withstands everything. Love never ends."

No, I hate you. I don't want any of this.

"And so, we hope that it will succor you."

Your grip on your bouquet crushes the poor plants.

"So, I ask you, Shota Aizawa, will you honor and love your wife in good and in bad times? So answer with: yes, I do."

I don't want to be honored by you.

"Yes, I do."

No! I hate you!

"And so I ask you, reader, will you honor and love your husband in good and in bad times? So answer with: Yes, I do."

No, I don't want to!

No!

There is silence in the room for a moment. The lump in your throat is too big to get it down all by once. Your silence meets the warning gaze of Shota.

"Yes, I do."

"So now, by virtue of my office, I declare you husband and wife. You are now allowed to kiss the bride."

You assh*le, wretched b*st*rd. Don't touch me with your disgusting lips!

As soon as his lips touch yours, it feels like a plague is spreading throughout your body.

The ring he puts on you weighs tons, at least that's how it feels. Your skin burns underneath.

"Look, now you're officially mine. You can't imagine how long I've been waiting for this moment."

"A cageed animal is not immediately yours. I'll get away from you."

"We'll see."

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