#he’ll be fine and not at all traumatized

[satorena]

#INTRO2MUNCH101

summ. when suguru “eat it off the bone” geto actually turns out to be suguru “flaps the left lip until she calls it a night” geto, he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew about his skills. . . talk about a rude awakening.

cw. explicit content. foul language. fem!reader. college!au. eventual smut (but not in the way you think. . .) mild modern lingo. allusions to music artists. cunningulūs. male masturbation. reader has a belly piercing. she’s also depicted mean by the boys. gojo cameos bc i can’t not mention him. tattoo artist!geto. substance consumption. lowkeyyy self-indulgent reader. 10k wc.

rena's note. this is a spin-off to p power, so i’d suggest reading that first to understand the correlation!

suguru geto is a simple man.

your pleasure is his pleasure. he’s always prided himself on being a pro at the art of cunningulus. honest— he’s always left with swollen lips, a heavily sprayed face and a solid five star ratings at the end of his work. his jaw feels tired out, scalp burning from consistent hair tugs, and his breathing uneven from lack of oxygen. but at the feel of plush thighs squeezing his face and the repetition of his name flowing into the air before getting squirted on, he remembers it’s always worth it.

no pain no gain, right?

wrong.

because here he finds himself, a hefty hour in since he first dove in between your soft legs, and there’s been absolutely no development. sprawled on your back on his sheets, arm slung over your eyes, and your breathing even. you look fucking bored, and his heart is sinking to his ass.

geto will use every trick he has in the book. he’s noticed overtime that girls have different bodies, therefore he needs different tactics to stimulate those bodies. he nips at your puffy bud, sucking on your clit for external pleasure. no use. fine, then he’ll push your thighs up some more for a deeper penetration of his fingers in your cunt— still no use. the only sounds being produced are his mouth slipping against his own saliva at your pussy because he can’t even get you wet enough.

the pit in his stomach grows larger. he wonders if maybe you’re just the silent type? he’s come across those before.

he’s getting nervous out of his mind, so shaky and uncoordinated that his hand slips and meets your lips for the umpteenth time— and only then do you release a guttural groan, the very first sound you’ve made in a long ass time. wait—

“did. . . did you cum?” he pants, pulling his sticky lips away from yours. his face feels moist, blood rushing all in his head and he’s lightheaded. but still, he has to know.

you push yourself up to your elbows, annoyance clear as day. he’s yet to seen this look on a girl after pulling every card known on the table, “yeah. . . to the wrong fucking house.”

oh fuck.

☆ ☆ ☆

he first spotted you chatting it up with your friends on the school’s soccer field, on a random tuesday afternoon, and he’s been hooked on you ever since.

the universe played a funny game, and he realized university truly is a small ass world. amongst your friends, he noticed a familiar face. one he’s been hearing and seeing of one too many times lately, on multiple separate and traumatic occasions— gojo’s girlfriend. suguru found himself bonding with her due to their familiar point of interest— that being gojo— and believes he can now make of her a friend.

geto watches his best friend’s eyes shimmer and he flashes his infamous million dollar smile. he really is obsessed with his girlfriend and she doesn’t even know— and geto finds himself wishing he had somebody he’d be this ecstatic over. must be nice.

“i’m gonna go say hi to my girl real quick,” gojo taps at his shoulder, and geto nods. he’s cool on it, he’ll wait back here until he’s done, or can make his way to his next class depending on whatever gojo and his girlfriend arrange. “you comin’?”

“i’m probably gonna head to our next lecture.” geto voices out, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the time. he feels gojo peeking over his shoulder, in which he assumes to verify if that would be necessary.

over forty-five minutes. damn it.

“that’s mad pointless, class doesn’t start till more than half an hour,” gojo says, and geto doesn’t see himself waiting around that long for a lecture. no way, “just come— her friends are chill.”

fuck it, he goes. naturally, gojo is all over his girl and her friends expect it. geto does give them a little wave when gojo introduces him. one of the girls mention having heard of him through a friend— something about a failed talking stage. mad federal, and the sheepish chuckle geto offers when you give him an unreadable look makes him want to crawl into a ditch.

so now you think he’s a whore. awesome.

and gojo’s smirk definitely doesn’t help him out. he doesn’t help out at all actually, so enamoured by his girlfriend that he leaves geto to fend for himself against a pack of wolves (read: nosy girls). he replies only when spoken to, nods when necessary and throws in a few “that’s crazy,” to which the girls fail to pick up he’s out of words to say.

well, everyone except you.

you’re quiet. in fact, the whole time, you haven’t said shit to him. you sit back and observe, occasionally typing on your macbook, or reapplying your lip combo. you didn’t have any words to say to him. even when your friends would talk to you, you gave them short answers and went back to listening to whatever was playing in your airpods. he could tell from that small interaction alone, you were the mean one out of your clique.

and fuck if that didn’t make him want you more. there was just something about mean women that made him want to break through their fake ass exteriors and watch them turn all soft and chummy for him.

blame it on his corruption kink.

gojo confirms his thoughts when they’re finally on their way to class. he kissed his girl goodbye and waved off her friends, to which they all (minus you) collectively cooed, “byeee gojooo!” which he found odd, but kept silent. he gave them a small nod before following his best friend.

they’re a few steps in the science building when the words slip before he can help it, ultimately cutting gojo’s rambling off, “yo, who was that girl?”

gojo glances at him before chuckling, “there was like seven of ‘em. which one?”

“the quiet one.”

it throws him off guard when gojo laughs hard. like, really hard. it attracts the attention of bystanders, who give him a crazy look but gojo ignores. as if they’d try to press him about his volume— the two were pretty adored around campus.

geto does find his reaction quite interesting, to which he cocks a brow and offers a chuckle of his own, “what?”

“oh, you definitely mean y/n,” when his laughter dies down, he finally answers. he lifts his shades to his hairline to swipe a tear. “she’s mean as fuck, bro.”

“right?!” geto laughs, tapping at gojo’s shoulder. it only charges gojo’s laughing fit back up, “i could tell from her vibe. she gives off those ‘men ain’t shit’ girlies on twitter. whole time, she’s probably laid up in bed with one.”

“you don’t even knowww,” gojo holds his shoulder and shakes him a bit. geto does in fact know, because he’s dealt with girls like her before. they’re always a good ass time. “she does men dirty. like, absolutely dogs them. heard one phone call too many.”

oh? even better than he expected. she’s probably the type that used to love hard before getting her heart trampled on and decided to seek revenge on all men. like, on some jennifer’s body shit. geto can’t help but smirk, “lemme see for myself. put me on.”

gojo falters in his step. his grip on geto’s shoulders loosen and his expression changes— not by much, but the once lighthearted smile switches to a skeptical one, “you serious?”

geto lets out a soft sigh, shrugging gojo’s hands off his shoulders. “don’t start asking too much. i did a favour for you and your girl, didn’t i?,” well, technically speaking it wasn’t like his comment had been the deciding factor for the two, but it did open gojo’s eyes. “you owe me one.”

“i don’t owe you shit,” gojo laughs, throwing his arm around geto anyways, “buuut you’re my boy and i’m not stingy. i’ll see what i can do, i know you’ve been getting a lil jealous of wifey and i.”

“shut the fuck up.” geto’s chuckles contradict his statement.

from that point on, it’s smooth sailing. gojo texts his girl asking if she’s seeing anybody. they have a little back and forth because his girlfriend assumes he’s asking for himself— which gojo gets all dramatic and throws geto under the bus for free. welp! it all worked out anyway since after he and gojo parted, you’d thought he was fine shyt. judging from your character, he doesn’t exactly take gojo’s words for what they are.

but he’ll take the opening, it’s as good as any.

time to plot.

☆ ☆ ☆

the second encounter was purely coincidental. and simultaneously embarrassing.

see, geto prides himself on his mysterious act— granted he was anything but. people see all that is gojo and automatically assume that geto has to be the cool one. it creates a perfect balance, no?

haven’t people heard of birds of a feather flock together?

so yes, he’s also a nerd. he typically enjoys spending his wednesday afternoons at dice board cafes because why not. it’s a chill, lowkey joint right off campus and not a lot of people gravitate towards, therefore the perfect spot to camp out before his evening lecture.

besides, his buddy choso works there and it gets him discounts. it isn’t the only reason he shows up, but it does help a lot on his pockets. being a student is awful, financially.

geto sips on his choco latte through a straw, browsing through the board games pamphlet as he decides what he’s going to play today. most of these games are pretty pointless if he doesn’t have an opponent, but he likes to think it helps develop his iq. he hears avenoir playing through the cafe and knows choso’s on aux.

who else could be playing this toxic ass shit?

he’s torn choosing between snakes and ladders or chess when he hears chimes at the front door, signalling somebody’s entered the establishment. he doesn’t think much of it, going on about minding his business when he hears choso say your name.

the latte enters the wrong tube and he chokes.

geto collects himself quickly, wiping any stray liquid past his mouth as his head snaps up. you’re propped up against the counter, and though he can’t see your face, he definitely recognizes your build. . . okay, yeah that sounds fucking pervy but if he stalked your page a few times, who’s business is it but his own? it’s not like you’d know. granted, he had got caught up liking one of your older photos but he took the like right back!

he debates on walking up to you. how would that even work without seeming desperate? you’ve been checking out all of his boxes so far— your face, body and attitude (question mark) are all tens. he does want to get to know you— at least be somebody in your life. but damn, why is he overthinking this? all he has to get up there and sweet talk you. he’s done this shit before.

“yo, suguru!”

shit.

purple orbs shift towards where his name was called, and lo and behold, there stands choso. and naturally, you look back to who was summoned, but god— social media does not do your face justice. he last seen you about a week ago, and had nothing but your instagram and his memory to rely on.

he makes his way to the counter and ignores you. doesn’t spare you a glance once— though he stands right at your side and watches you watching him through his peripheral. he nods at choso, “what’s up?”

choso, ever the genius, flicks his eyes between geto and you, before clearing his throat, “shoko just texted— somethin’ about a new client. how’s the studio looking?”

“booked all week,” geto answers truthfully, and he notices you’ve shifted your gaze, “little to no openings. why though?”

choso hums, jolting down online orders into a little notebook, “not even for a special friend?”

geto squints his eyes at that. there isn’t anybody he’d call a special friend that hasn’t already been booked or wouldn’t have his number to squeeze in an appointment. granted, he is a dnd warrior but even his friends know of that quirk of his, “depends. who’s the special friend?”

“me.” and he feels his heart skip a beat. fuck. he tilts his head over to the side, and good lord, your face card gave every girl on campus runs for their money. seriously, your facial features complimented you in a way that told aphrodite— the textbook definition of beauty— to go fuck herself, and hard.

“oh?” geto cocks a brow, and lets his eyes roam up and down your frame. shameless, yes, but he has a reputation to uphold. your rest in face makes his own look like child’s play, “didn’t realize we were on special friends basis.”

you click your tongue, “didn’t realize we were on lurking spam accounts but pretend we don’t exist the next day basis either,” you quip right back, picking at the white bow glued to your acrylics.

sassy. geto chuckles, now fully turning his body around to face you. you match his movements, and he toys with a ring on his middle finger, “guess you got me all figured out,” he pauses, shifting his gaze to choso, who’s already eyeing him. “sounds like you wanted me to reach out.”

“boy please,” you scoff, pausing your nail inspection. you let your hand hang, “you choked earlier because you heard my name. that corny nonchalant act isn’t the flex you’re thinking it is,” a huff escapes your lips, and geto feels blood rushing to his face. “your lurking ass was months deep into my page just a week ago— did you find any men ain’t shit vibes from the photo dump?”

choso stifles a laugh, and when geto looks at him, it dies into a cough. well damn, you really didn’t hold anything back. read him like a book actually— and it doesn’t help that gojo can’t keep his mouth shut for shit. it widens the grin on his face. he thinks he likes you.

“well,” geto smirks, “can’t say i have— means there’s still an opening.”

you furrow your brows, “oh? an opening to what exactly?”

“an appointment, of course,” he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. his locks are getting in his face, but the messy look always gets him compliments. might as well shoot his shot, “you know. . .” leaning his chin into the palm of his hand, “for a special friend.”

his double entendre definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you. he watches how, despite the mean mugging, there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. you’re squinting just slightly, almost as if you were weighing out the pros and cons. geto won’t break the eye contact first— he’s on a mission. he hopes the tired eyes look will be on his side this time.

tattoo or dick appointment— he would one hundred percent make an opening for you. anything to get his hands on your body.

“are we still talking about the tattoo parlour or . . .”

both you and he turn to choso, who’s watching the situation unfold. just count on him to ruin the mood, whether the obliviousness was feigned or not. choso tightens his brows at the look geto shoots him, “what?”

“i’m gonna head out,” you grab at your handbag, hopping of the seat. nicely played choso. you gather your items and slip them in your purse, sliding a few bucks across the counter. choso grabs the bills and stick them in the tip jar, nodding at her. “catch you in poly sci?”

“if you don’t skip again.” choso snorts and you flip him off, slinging your bag over your shoulder. you turn on your heel and make your way towards the exit, ultimately dismissing geto. that doesn’t feel too nice, he should probably stop that bad habit.

he rises to his feet before he can help it. his hand grabs at your wrist and notices how much smaller it seems in comparaison to his, and he hates the next words that leave his mouth, “what about me?”

you glance down at his hold on you, before looking back up at him, “what about you?” your face says everything your lips haven’t— you’re getting the ick.

he wants to wince. okay, yeah that was corny, “when do i get to see you?”

you drag out a mini hum, your gaze dancing over his silver chain around his collarbone, “dunno. you have my socials so i assume in the next hour.”

he tilts his head to the side, and the pad of his thumb grazes over your smooth skin. he doesn’t fail to notice the way your hand stiffens under his touch, “so if i slide in your dms in the next hour, i can expect an answer?”

a snort leaves your chest, and he can’t tell if it’s a condescending one or an amused one. what he does know, however, is that he’s going to be seeing you sometime soon. you take your hand back into your possession before laying it in the dead centre of his chest, pushing him back just slightly, “i’ll see you around, geto.”

his eyes trail over your figure, every step you take out of the establishment, slightly starstruck by the entirety of you— your boldness. the thrill he was beginning to feel felt like a high. he hasn’t met anybody this entertaining in a while.

“you’re so fucking corny.” he thinks he hears choso insult him from behind. he doesn’t pay him any mind, despite the middle finger that tips towards the ceiling. partynextdoor blasts in the cafe, specifically freak in you, and he hates how he finds himself relating to the lyrics,

room full of beautiful women but he only wants one.

☆ ☆ ☆

“you stalking me, pretty?”

“sure,” you nod your head, raking through the items on the clothing rack. you don’t spare him a single glance, picking a top off the rack and inspecting it, “if stalking means visiting the busiest thrift store on the busiest hour in the busiest city.”

geto lets out a small laugh, shoving his hands in the pockets of his cargos. you make him feel like a nuisance, like he’s a pest wasting your time. ironic, seeing as he wasn’t that much of a bother just last night, when you’d been indulging him in your inbox, “of course you’re the thrifting type.”

you pause your actions, price tag in your fingers as you side eye him through locks of your hair, “and you’re not?”

“didn’t mean it in a bad way, sweetheart.” geto shrugs, pulling off a cropped baby tee and bringing towards you. it has sequins sewn in the material, the gems writing out juicy couture. “this would suit you— belly piercing and whatnot.”

the top is cute, there was no denying so. a pretty shade of pink that suited your complexion, but letting his ego inflate bigger than it already was out of the question. he could tell your thought process from the judgmental look you offered, “oh god—you’re one of those fake ass, streetwearing fashionistas, aren’t you?”

geto blinks a few times, before letting out a sincere laugh. he’s been called a multitude of things before, but that one was new, “you got all that from me suggesting you buy this juicy couture tee? don’t all girls fiend over this vintage shit?”

“it’s that corny ass personality of yours,” you grab the shirt, throwing it in your cart. he wants to make a comment on that, but you beat him to the chase, “the phoney nonchalant act, the streetwear, your insta aesthetic— you’re so scripted.”

“my insta aesthetic?” he repeats, and doesn’t miss a step to catch up to you. your hands are back on the handle of your shopping cart, and if the way his elbows bump into your shoulders bothers you, you don’t make point in commenting on it. “who’s the lurker now, hm?”

you roll your eyes, pushing the strolley ahead, “don’t let it get to your big ass head. your feed screams you’re those toxic ass brent faiyaz wannabes,” he watches your fingertips rake through more clothings that pass your way, before you shoot him a glance, “let me guess— he showed on your spotify wrapped.”

his silence speaks volumes, and you click your tongue, “see? scripted.”

“and what about you?” geto counters when you make a pit stop. you pull away from your cart when a denim skirt catches your eye. you lift the skirt up to your eyes, before looking over your shoulder, cocking a brow.

“what about me?”

“the tweet reposts, the song choices for your highlights, the whole spiritual baddie persona,” he presses behind you, his chest meeting your back. he rests his chin atop your head, purple eyes landing on the clothing article that’s lowering in your hold, “if my page gives brent then yours definitely gives jhene.”

you’re mute for a second, and you chuck the skirt into the cart. you pull away from beneath him, spinning on your feet to face him, and you’ve got a scowl on your lips, “what’s wrong with jhene?”

“and you call me the toxic one.” geto pokes at your cheek. you swipe his hand away, and he laughs, “don’t get me wrong though— she makes good music. but let’s not act like she’s all innocent either,” his gaze lowers to your glossy lips, the fullness of the pair hypnotic, “a real freak. should i call you my pussy fairy?”

“do not,” you reply, weaving around him to make your way back to your cart. geto laughs, snatching a few things of the racks before dumping them in your stuff. you give him a deadpanned look and he whistles it off, feigning ignorance. “jhene’s a lovergirl. thought i was part of the men ain’t shit community.”

“you’re not gonna let that go, are you?” geto sighs. he owes gojo another thump in the head.

you roll your eyes, “thank your homeboy for that.”

“two things can be true at once,” geto fiddles with the hem of his jacket. he’s back at walking step by step with you, and you haven’t told him to fuck off yet, so he’s going to milk the opportunity out. “you’re mean but a lovergirl. you hate men but a real freak with them. right or wrong?”

you halter in your steps, and geto’s now a few steps ahead of you, so he looks over his shoulder to meet your bored expression, “i know you’re not trying to read me in the middle of value village.”

“no better time than the present,” he smiles, one that creases a dimple in his cheeks. “come on up— what are you waiting for?”

you stare at him some more, inhaling sharply, “mind you, i never invited you to join me,” you shake your head but comply regardless. cute, looks like you’re enjoying his company more than you’re letting on.

so he graces you his presence some more. he shops along with you, sneaks clothes into your cart when you’re distracted and asks you stupid questions. it’s a good time— to him at least, being able to get to know you some more without interruptions. naturally, you feign that his company is the bane of your existence, but he doesn’t miss the twitch of your lips when he taps his card into the reader at the check out.

hell yeah he’s got money to spend and is willing to show off if it means getting on your good side.

it’s only after he helps you bag your shit into your car, that he realizes this is where the both of you part ways. it annoys him slightly, but he doesn’t need to overstep his boundaries. he closes your trunk and makes his way to the driver’s side, where you’re already buckled up.

he taps at your window and the glass rolls down all the way, to which he leans forward. he’s in your line of sight now and you sigh, tilting your head sideways, “what?”

“do i get a goodbye kiss?” geto teases, honest, the boyish smirk he offers accentuating the playful undertone. the last thing he expects is you shifting in your seat, pushing yourself up and peaking your head out the window.

his smirk drops, brows jumping to his hairline. you’re really fucking close now, and for a split second he thinks you’re actually going to do it. he can see the flecks of colours swimming in your orbs, the tip of your nose bumps into his and your breath fans his cupid’s bow.

fuck, you smell really good. he bets you taste even better. his mouth is running dry, mindlessly darting his tongue out to wet his own lips. he doesn’t realize he’s let himself lean into your space, eyes narrowing on your mouth parting over his.

he’s pulled out of his trance when two fingers press at his forehead and push. he blinks his lashes, snapping back to reality as you sit back into your seat. you look amused— as if you’d played the funniest game right in his face and he’d been the star player.

“i’ll see you around, geto.”

and you drive off.

☆ ☆ ☆

“come back in a few weeks for a checkup. we’ll make sure the healing process is running smoothly. i’ll catch you soon.”

he lets out a tired sigh when the door finally closes, slumping into his seat and shuts his eyes. he’s exhausted— having woken up early for lectures and labs to back to back appointments with clients. this time around, the parlour is always booked and busy. students find it the perfect timing to get tatted to let it heal before showing it off in the summer.

it’s smart for them but idiotic for him. midterms are up, and the only time he has to study is in between appointments. he slides off his gloves and drags his seat towards his desk, redirecting his attention focus towards the blinding screen.

he feels a headache building at his temple, sipping at his iced coffee to keep him energized. contradicting, sure, but you didn’t have the luxury to be a beggar and a chooser when you were a full time student. the parlour he ran resided in his loft apartment, on the second floor. he enjoyed the comfort of his own home, spacious room and wide windows compared to outside stores.

his cat, nanako, purrs at his feet and he feels his heart swell. if there was one weakness he had in this world, it’d be her. he picks her up from the floor, presses her at his rib cage and nuzzles his nose in her fur.

“hi baby,” geto coos, and nanako lets out a sound. he continues to coddle her, fluffing her fur and rubbing at her ears, “it’s been pretty lively in here, hasn’t it? i knowww,” he coos, and as if nanako understands his words, she makes a pitiful sound that slightly shatters his heart.

geto decides to place her on his lap, her company serving plenty of motivation as he rolls back to his desk. he grabs the remote to his built-in speakers, turning the volume higher, before locking back in. exams are full of crap, and words are starting to jumble on his screen— he’s beginning to contemplate if this education shit is even worth the stress.

he’s an hour deep in jolting notes down on his ipad when he hears a knock at his front door. he scrunches his brows and glances at his agenda— he isn’t due for an appointment until another few hours. he sits it out, starting to believe he’d maybe imagined the sound. he knows it isn’t gojo since he’s celebrating an anniversary with his girl, and any other friend would’ve called to let him know they’re outside.

probably some jehovah witness shit, he thinks to himself, fingers hovering over his speaker remote to crank the volume back up. he turns back to his laptop screen, petting nanako mindlessly when his ipad flashes an instagram notification.

yourstruly.yn: open up

he jumps to his feet, chair rolling back. nanako flies to his desk, landing on all fours as she hisses at him for his suddenness. geto grabs her and kisses her ear, “sorry baby,” before sitting her on the floor. she walks off to her mini bean bag right at the foot of his desk, and he senses an attitude coming from her.

damn, he’d forgotten he squeezed you in last night in the midst of his sweet talking. that was truly a stupid move, he was already behind on studying, and because he likes to think with his head instead of his actual head, he’d fall even further behind.

he checks around the flat— picks up stray wrappers and fixes throw pillows, arranges his sheets. he was a clean man for the most part— he had been so distracted with his studies that there wasn’t much to dirty in the first place. his candles had already been lit so he knew the place smelled fine. he’s pretty positive his loft is clean enough to leave a good first impression.

he fixes loose hairs and straightens out his hoodie and sweats. thank fuck he’d showered not too long ago— he’s beginning to understand why his mother was always so insistent on being clean in case of random pop ups.

when he does finally open the door, there you stood. it was pretty chilly outside this time around, so he wasn’t surprised by the harsh wind flowing in and the clutch of your coat in your hold. your nose began reddening, and you sniffled, scowling from the cold.

you’re so cute, he sends you a smile, “hey.”

“hi,” you replied, sniffling again. “you ever planning on letting me in?”

“dunno,” he crosses his arms over his chest. he leans against the doorframe, ignoring the way he was starting to feel the frosty wind setting in his bones, “maybe if you ask nicely.”

you shoot him a deadpanned look, “move.”

“no.” geto smiles, “try again.”

“move, now.” a small pout is starting to form on your lips. he really liked testing your patience, since it always seemed to run low. you must’ve met your match— because geto always had time to fuck around.

“close, but not quite.”

“oh my goddd,” you groan, and that’s when he decides to let up. it really is colder than a bitch outside and he’d already kept you waiting while tidying up. he lets out a chuckle when you turn to the side, “i’m leaving— too damn cold for this.”

“alright, i’m playing,” geto widens the door. you stop your movements and glare at him. he aims an arm towards the inside of his loft, “don’t go, come in.”

you grumble something beneath your breath but comply, walking right past him. he follows behind you, shutting the door close and is immediately greeted back with warmth. you slip your shoes off and place them on the rack, before stepping in further into his apartment.

he slides his hands into his sweatpants’ pockets, catching up to you in the living room. your head is tilted upwards as you inspect the place though you remain in place. he stands beside you, bumping his shoulder into your arm, “so? up to your standards?”

you’re quiet for a while, letting your eyes roam around as the words build in your mind, “it’s typical,” you shrug but don’t elaborate. you’ve been staring at an art piece he’d done first year when he was fried out of his mind. you shift your gaze back to him, “where do i put my shit?”

“you can leave it in my bedroom, if that’s fine.” geto suggests and you nod wordlessly, to which he leads you to the second floor. he’s walking up the stairs and prays he doesn’t fall flat on his face— his socks can be a real bitch sometimes.

you both make it to his bedroom, with you trailing a little behind. he grabs a hanger from his mobile clothing rack, stretching an arm out to you, “i’ll hang your jacket here.”

you slide off the coat from your frame and hand it to him, to which he hangs on the rack. you circle around his bedroom with your tote on your shoulder, while he makes his way back to next to his desk. it’s pretty quiet for the most part, besides the music playing gently in the background.

your gaze lands on the cluttered items on his desk, noticing the half empty cup of coffee, notebooks and ipad on display, “did i catch you at a bad time?”

“honestly? yeah,” geto shrugs, before motioning at your tote bag. you slip it off and hand it to him, to which he sits at his nightstand, “but it’s my fault anyway, i squeezed you in a busy time. you know how exam season gets.”

“i can always reschedule,” you offer, checking your phone screen for the date, “it’s not that deep.”

“i don’t want you to leave,” geto slumps back into his seat and heaves out a sigh. he spins the chair around to catch you giving him a flat look. he leans back in his seat and spreads his thighs, smirking, “would you stay?”

“depends. are you going to be studying?” you quip, crossing your arms back to your chest.

geto ponders on what to say next. it’s not like he doesn’t want to tatt you up, but he really is caught in a bind. he also doesn’t want you to leave— not when he’s been wanting to see you since the last time he’d seen you. does he prioritize his wants or his needs?

he hums, “i’ll do whatever you want me to.”

you roll your eyes, scoffing as you make your way to his nightstand. for a second, he thinks you’re getting ready to leave and a weird feeling of disappointment settles in his gut. instead, you grab the bag and sit on the edge of his bed, pulling out your macbook and crossing your legs.

he smiles at that, “attagirl.”

“corny.” you mumble, chewing on your bottom lip as you begin typing away.

there’s a comfortable silence that fills the room. he’s back to browsing through his lecture notes, noting down valuable information and memorizing terminology. you don’t say anything either, but the sound of your nails typing at your keyboard blends well with his r&b playlist playing. sounds like you’re writing down an essay or report, depending on whatever your major is.

about half an hour into the silence, does he decide to break it. he looks over his shoulder to where you’re settled on his bed, “you good?” he checks up on you, and you let out a burnt out sigh. he knows exactly how you’re feeling.

“i guess,” you huff, twirling your necklace. your eyes are stuck on your screen, brows creasing into a scowl, “this shit is frying my brain though.”

“what are you writing?” he indulges, dropping his apple pen back onto his desk and spins in his seat to face you. maybe he’s also in due of a break— he’d rather be talking to you anyway.

“this crim report,” you answer, picking at your nail, “it’s not exactly hard but mad lengthy. i have to write a ten page report based on this article and how it contradicts societal norms.”

“ten pages?” geto whistles, rubbing at his chin. he’s settled deeper in his seat, naturally manspreading. you’re much better than him, he would’ve given up before even starting— reports were not his thing, “how far are you in?”

“i started this morning,” you hum, “so i’m four pages in.”

geto nods, “and when is it due?”

“tomorrow night.” you push your laptop off your lap. you close the screen shut and stretch out your legs, releasing a breathy moan as you relax your thighs. “i’ll do this shit later— my head’s starting to hurt.”

geto swears he’s never been so in sync in thought. he dismisses the idea of studying the second you had closed your macbook. probably a bad idea but at the moment, he couldn’t care any less, “want some entertainment?”

you cock a brow, “don’t say no stupid shit.”

“twenty one questions,” geto speaks nonetheless and finds himself beaming brightly when you scoff, “can’t a guy want to get to know you better?”

you ease yourself on his bed, slumping into his sheets as you exhale. you shift onto your side— a sinful curve at your side— tucking your knees and lean your head into your palm, “oh fuck off,” a breathless laugh and nanako makes her presence known, hopping right by you in the space between your body and the edge of the bed, “didn’t know you had a cat. she’s cute.”

“how’d you know she was a she?” geto wonders, surprised just slightly by how welcoming nanako was around you. she purred when you stroke at her fur, nuzzling further into your chest. nanako hated everyone— especially gojo, who unironically visited the most.

“instinct,” you shrugged but there’s a faint smile on your lips. not directed towards him, but his baby, “i also have a cat— he’s a fucking menace though.”

that’s one thing in common already, “like mother like son,” geto grins lazily when you flip him off mindlessly, and when you raise nanako in both your hands, he’s ready to warn you she isn’t a big fan of sudden movements— but when she mewls, the same sound she makes when geto brings home a new toy, the words die down in his throat.

he observes you both silently. you cradle nana as if she were a newborn infant, adoring and loving yet simultaneously careful and steadily. you’re cooing, calling her a sweet girl and rubbing at her ear, and nanako accepts you rather easily— too easily.

“woah.” was this those non-sexual turn ons people spoke about? for somebody so mean, you were oddly gentle with pets. he liked that— really liked that, so much that he pulls his phone out and snaps a photo of you two. but of course, because the universe loves to see him fumble, the flash goes off.

your head snaps to the side and he freezes. you narrow your eyes at him, slowly lowering nanako, “did you just—”

“so!” geto cuts you off, chucking his phone back onto his desk. it makes a loud cluttering sound, damn near knocks his drink all over, but ignores it, “my turn. what’s your cat’s name?”

“milo. and don’t cut me off—”

“milo the menace,” he cuts you off regardless, not wanting to have to decipher just what exactly possessed him to do that. he’s never done so, and he wasn’t about to explain why he’d done it just now. deflecting king! “i need to see the little guy. got any pics?”

you huff, extending a hand behind you to find your phone. when you clutch onto the device, you swing your legs off the bedside, always careful with nanako clinging to your lap. you lay her down on the floor, much to her dismay, before making your way towards him.

his eyes are stuck on your body before his mind can tell him to stop. not like it mattered much, your own eyes glued to your phone screen as you searched for the pictures he’d asked. you’ve got a matching tracksuit on— though the hoodie is cropped, thus exposing your navel piercing. he’d always had a thing for those, the pretty good jewel dangling below the button.

it didn’t help that your thong straps sat atop your waist.

he spreads his legs further open, and you stop right in between. for a moment, you’re stuck on your phone, and geto really wants to get those thighs straddling him. you look delectable— he’d pin your knees to your damn ears, sprawled on your back, and eat you out until you pleaded him to stop.

your hair was pulled back into a bun, and from this angle, he spotted scripture at the column of your neck. there was wording inked in arabic, and he made a mental note to ask you what it meant later.

geto leans back into his seat when you fold forwards, and he gets a good whiff of your vanilla scented perfume, tingling his senses in the best way, “found it?”

you nod your head, swiping through your gallery, “yeah, my bad,” you have a folder named ‘mimi’ and as expected, was filled off candid photos of your cat. he pays attention as you slide your finger on your screen, selfies of you both in the morning passing by.

“cute,” he isn’t talking about the cat, and his gaze flicks from the screen to your face. there’s still a considerate amount of space between you both, but he can see your eye colour much clearer this close up. you blink your lashes at him and he smirks, “anything else you wanna show me?”

you sniff, “don’t be gross.”

“i meant of milo,” geto definitely didn’t mean of milo. you cock a brow skeptically, and he mirrors the look, though the smile on his face grows, “what a cute lil thing,” his voice lowers and his words trail off. there’s a beat of a pause for a while, and his gaze falls on the plumpness of your lips, “you gonna let me pet your kitty?”

another beat of silence. you’re staring at his lips, and he wonders what you’re thinking. he can tell you’ve picked up on what he’s laying down (hopefully you in the next few minutes) but he can’t tell what your next move will be.

“depends. . .” a soft whisper, and he feels your breath fanning over his cupid’s bow. you flick your eyes back at him, and he finally understands the whole siren eyes shit. through lidded eyes, your stare is intense— simultaneously pulling him in closer while pushing him back. you’re toying with him, and the hand he slides up from your thigh to your ass is enough fuel. “you any good?”

he brings a second hand to the other ass cheek, and urges you onto his lap. you comply, looping your arms at the back of his neck. he feels your nails grazing at his scalp and he holds back a lethal shudder. your weight feels amazing against him— his hard on poking and making its presence well aware.

“i’d like to think i am,” he knows he is, but playing humble always goes a long way. he lets his hands run over the cup of your ass, trails back up to your hips, and slides a finger beneath the thong strap. when he snaps the material at your skin, your back arches and you press your chest against his own.

“well,” you exhale when he noses into the crook of your neck, right above your tattoo. he’s littering wet kisses at your hot skin, your taste ever so sweet against his tongue. god, you must taste divine. at your jugular, he’s able to imprint your perfume into his mind. “only one way to find out.”

geto hums at that, relishing in the way you moan at a particular suck, and focus on nibbling at that spot once more. you’re tilting your head for easier access, hips grinding against his own for better friction. your hands are soft and cautious— they trail from his nape down to his chest, and further down to his waistband.

he’s on go, ready for whatever timing you’re on. though, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out by the way your fingertip traces right above his pelvis, that you’re both on the same page. he drags his lips from the column of your neck up to your jaw, and stops right above your parted lips.

he has another cocky remark on the tip of his tongue, in typical suguru fashion, but you beat him to the chase, glossy lips pressing against his. the kiss is short and definitely leaves him wanting more when you pull back as soon as you’d leaned in— but you’re a mere centimetre away.

you whisper, not before another kiss, “don’t disappoint me, suguru.”

and he’s never ran into bed so fast.

☆ ☆ ☆

the door slams shut.

he’s left with a painfully hard reminder in his sweats that he fucked up bad. he thinks he dissociated a little between the labia flapping to the coat zipping. it’s only when he notices that instead of hearing lip smacking sounds, he hears bryson tiller’s lame ass (no shade, his ego is simply wounded), that you really left.

fuck.

geto rushes back to his bedroom, the walk of shame up the steps enough to make him want to jump off— as he takes out his phone, immediately goes through his contact list and presses on the name. it rings twice before the call gets picked up.

“yooo!”

“you still busy?” geto asks, voice hoarse as he flops down on the edge of the bed— his now empty bed. damn.

“nah, just dropped off wifey,” gojo replies. he hears music playing faintly in the back, as well as the sounds of honking. he must still be in the car, “why, what’s up?”

“i fucked up.” geto sighs, running a hand over his face.

“oh?” he isn’t surprised to find out gojo’s surprised. he’s still surprised by how the events turned out and it’s barely been ten minutes, let alone five. “say no more, i’m on my way.”

geto hangs up. he throws the phone away, before falling flat onto his bed. he picks up your scent on his sheets, your warmth slowly disappearing— another painful reminder he messed up. where he’s expecting a wet patch of anything on his duvets, he finds nothing. zip. nada.

his eyes fall shut, “shit.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“and that’s pretty much the gist of it all.”

he exhales a cloud of smoke. more silence. geto’s starting to get sick of all this silence. it was radio silence with you and now even more radio silence from gojo. his hand never stops to rub at nanako, who’s been serving as a cuddling partner in this grand moment of crisis. the only person to ever have his back.

so, geto knew that confiding in his best friend this secret of his would be risky for a multitude of reasons. for starters, geto never fucks up. this would be ultimate blackmail content for him, and geto honestly doesn’t blame him. for two, he was just giving gojo shit about never having eaten pussy. that’s just downright humiliating. and for three, he has a girlfriend who he doesn’t keep anything from. on top of that— his girlfriend is friends with the main culprit here.

overall a bad idea. he does it nonetheless, because satoru is his best friend despite it all. he isn’t too shocked when the silence is filled with bellyaching laughter, though.

“wait— i’m cryinggg,” more laughter. gojo’s now kicked his feet off the couch and is doubling forward. his shades bounce off his head and hit the leg of the coffee table. he doesn’t pause his laughing fit one bit, not even when geto throws a throw pillow his way.

it bounces off his big head and geto scoffs, bringing the joint back to his lips, “oh fuck off.”

“my fault man,” gojo apologizes though he doesn’t sound apologetic. he’s leaning forward to grab his shades back, and he’s back to swiping stray tears. “that was a good laugh— shit.”

geto hums at that, extending the blunt towards him,“glad to hear my misery has brought you entertainment.”

“see, you get it!” gojo jokes, welcoming the joint. seems like he got cocky, however, his laughing mood not quite over as he inhales. he quickly chokes on the smoke, which fades back into cackling, “oh shit—”

geto sneers, annoyance quickly rising, “quit fucking around or pass it back.” he was being pissy, yes, but his pride had been curb stomped. and it hadn’t even been an hour ago!

“nah, nah, i’m good,” gojo waves him off, despite his free hand tapping at his chest. he collects himself soon enough, and takes another hit. this time it’s successful. geto lowkey hoped it would get caught in his throat again.

“sooo,” gojo drags out, melting into the couch, “what now.”

“what now?” geto parrots.

“what’s the next move?” gojo elaborates, fingertip tapping at the blunt, and ashes fall into the tray. the end of the stick crumbles in the same way geto’s ego had earlier. “you’re gonna keep letting her think you suck at giving head?”

geto throws his head back and sighs tiredly, “what else is there to do?” he hears the sound of sizzling in the background, “i fumbled bad, bro. you don’t think she already posted about me in her girls’ private story?” more sizzling and exhaling, “i’m the storytime of the day!”

he feels gojo nudge his thigh with his foot. he looks back and the joint is presented to him. he gladly accepts it.

“what even happened?” gojo wonders. and oh boy, if that isn’t the question of the day. geto is still trying to find the answer to that. had it been out of nervousness? had he gotten too cocky? had it been her?

“i honestly wish i could answer that,” geto slips the roach into his mouth. “i didn’t feel nervous until after i realized she wasn’t fazed,” he drags out a hit and ghost inhales, “maybe it was a sign from above— to shut the fuck up sometimes.”

“maybe,” gojo snorts, throwing his legs over geto’s lap. nanako hisses at the intrusion, but the white haired man ignores her, “don’t let yourself go out sad like this. hit her back up— whatever happened to loving challenges?”

“what kind of fucked up ass challenge is this?” geto mumbles, mainly to himself.

“if i was in your shoes— which i’d never be,” because he’s gojo, he feels the need to add, “i’d put my pride aside and talk to her. like no homo shit, but you’re a great eater— yeah, no, i’m taking that back instantly.”

geto looks as horrified as he feels, “quickly, even.”

of course, gojo laughs but proceeds, “the point is, you know you’re good at it. everybody fucks up once in a while— don’t let it define you though. think of it as a minor setback for a major comeback— if you care enough, you’ll put your pride aside and do something about it. if you’re this down about it, then it must mean something to you.”

geto can’t tell anymore whether gojo’s talking about the failed pussy eating attempt or you. regardless, he knows there’s truth to his words. has to be the weed talking.

“and who made you the pussy connoisseur?” geto snorts, pressing the bud of his joint in the tray. it sizzles weakly as he kills it, starting to feel that high course through his veins.

gojo sighs dreamily, “why my lovely lady, of course.”

“looks like she taught you well,” geto relaxes himself into the tight space of the couch, settling nanako on his chest. it’s now his turn to nudge gojo with his foot, his sock-cladded toe digging at his jaw. “woulda never expected this from a rookie just a few months ago.”

“well duh,” gojo swipes his foot away, “i aced that course. got my phD in cunningulusophy and all. even won valedictorian.”

geto laughs, resting his lids. he was starting to feel sleepy, indica will do that to you, “enroll me in whatever class you took— i may need to slut myself out for extra credit. my prof’s a tough nut to bust.”

“intro to munch 101,” gojo nods his head, shutting his eyes close as well. there’s a comfortable silence that fills the air for a while. and despite the fact that his sight manipulated, he could hear the smirk dripping off his tone, “if you ever need a letter of recommendation, i got you— alumni’s honour.”

“oh fuck off,” a mixed harmony of laughter and vibrating chests.

☆ ☆ ☆

fun fact: suguru geto loves showers.

the aroma of cleanliness enhanced by thick fog. the scorching water droplets trickling down his skin, the vulnerability of his nakedness inside these four walls. he strangely feels most at ease, most raw in this moment of solitude.

he’s able to gather himself too. there isn’t much to accomplish in a shower once you’ve gotten rid of the day’s dirt. so, he likes to take the opportunity to think. to think deep and hard.

his mind’s all scrambled up. it’s been about three days since you were last in his apartment, two days since he’d thought about it, and a day since he last seen you (granted it’d been on your story, virtually, but still).

this has been the biggest feat he’s faced in a while. if he recaps it, this is what’s he gotten: he invited you over. you came the next day. he didn’t cater to you the sole reason you came. you didn’t mind. you both studied for a bit. he asked about your cat. you ended up on his lap. he ended up in bed with you. you ended up leaving with a chunk of his dignity.

that didn’t explain shit, but it did remind him of his failure. it reminded him that he’d finally met his match. it reminded him he needs to start backing his shit up. it reminded him of how good you smelled and tasted down there. it reminded him of how pretty you looked.

his cock twitches and he glances down. it also reminds him he never ended up cumming, too engrossed in his anxiety to jerk one out.

he feels as though the glass doors of his shower protect him from reality. he’s hard, though mortified, but still hard. he’d spent a long time (two days) suppressing the memory away, but there was no way to mistaken your taste on his tongue. how sweet you smelled. how soft you felt—

geto fists at his dick before he can help it. his free hand plants at the wall before him, and he works his wrist. he twists at his shaft slowly and closes his eyes— behind his lids are photographic memories of you on his lap. memories of you on his bed. memories of the scent of your panties. memories of your tits in his mouth.

sure, you’d made more sounds off the foreplay for the foreplay— but that didn’t take away how turned on he’d been. how his dick twitched in his boxers. how he’d humped the mattress. how he’d moan in your cunt.

“y/n,” geto moans your name, sinful yet hushed, his hand working faster. his thumb grazes his over slit and his gut drowns in heat. he wants a redo. he deserves a redo— you deserved a redo. “fuckkkk,”

next time, he’ll get it right. and if he doesn’t, then he’ll want to try again and again and again— until it ends with your cunt clenching around his tongue and his face sprayed vigorously in your essence. until your thighs tremble around his face, your hand clawing at his hair and your back arched off his bed. until his name bounces off his walls and echoes so loudly his neighbours complain.

he wants a redo.

he jerks back as he paints the tiles white. the joints in his hand ache, the water from the shower head getting colder. geto pants heavily, chest heaving as his load is released from him. his cum drips from the wall and into the drain at his feet— but his dick is far from well spent. if he spends another hour in the shower, it’s nobody’s business but his own.

suguru geto loves showers.

☆ ☆ ☆

“oh. you actually showed.”

“redo,” geto pants, having sprinted from his apartment. he’d spent the next three days after his shower incident wallowing some more— at some point, it just annoyed him. though slightly underwhelming, he was on his phone in bed a few minutes ago, going through his camera roll when he’d seen that picture he took of you and nanako. his feet guided him to his car before he could help it. choso helped him out with the address.

“redo?” you parrot his words, leaning against your doorframe. you crossed your arms over your chest, and it’s only then he noticed your appearance— flimsy camisole and pink lace panties. fuck, he wants a redo now.

“i want a redo.” geto repeats, but is quickly hit with a gust of wind. he hadn’t brought a jacket with him in the midst of his impulse, and goosebumps were beginning to form at his skin. he shoots his shot, “you ever planning on letting me in?” talk about deja vu.

“dunno,” you play along, eyes narrowing. “maybe if you ask nicely.”

swallow your pride, he hears gojo somewhere in the back of his mind. he shakes that thought off quickly. this desperation had to be bigger than a pride issue— he was ready to get on his knees and beg her to let him in. pride? that had been drained to the sewers the second he busted all over his shower days ago.

“lemme in and i’ll make it up to you,” geto tries instead, taking a step closer, “please?”

that seemed to be the correct answer as you push open the door to your apartment further. you turn your back and geto lets himself drink up your backside— he hadn’t seen it last time but you had dimples sitting right above your perky ass. he watches your hips sway left and right, and even tilt your head back, a smirk etched on your face, “you comin’?”

you will be, “cute.” his lips twitch into a small smile, and closes the door behind him.

☆ ☆ ☆

fool him once? shame on him.

geto doesn’t allow himself to make the same mistakes twice. if one fuck up is enough to tear him down for a week straight then why the hell would he do it again?

you’re sprawled on your back, legs spread with enough space to fit his body in between. his hands plant on either side of your face, his bulge pushed up against your core. he feels your warmth through these layers of clothes, and he rolls his hips greedily, feeling himself already grow addicted. your chin is raised high, lids blown open as you stare at him all doe-eyed.

his brows pinch in the centre of his forehead. that faux look of innocence you’re offering is doing wonders to his dick. your tits sit beautifully beneath your top, arms back on him as you pull him in closer, and he lets himself fall prey to you. for a moment, the tip of his nose bumps into yours, lips ghosting over the other, hips colliding to meet yours.

“mhm, that’s it.” you let out a sigh, throwing your head back into your pillows. there’s an opening to your neck calling his name, and geto wastes no time to latch his lips there. he slips a hand beneath your tank top, fingernails grazing over your skin to creep up to your mounds. he flicks a thumb over the bud and you sigh blissfully again— he then cups the flesh.

he loves the way you squirm when he kisses down your body, “i got you, pretty,” stripped from your cami, his lips leave open mouthed marks all over your skin. from the column of your neck, to your breasts, down your torso and past your navel, “let me take care of you.” the lower he gets, the more intense your rawness reeks— and it’s a damned good smell.

he lands right above your clothed pelvis, and he inhales sharply. he won’t make the same mistake this time, he can feel it. there’s something lingering in the air, something indescribable— but he’s confident he won’t. because when he skips your cunt in favour to pamper your inner thighs, dragging his wet tongue all over erogenous zones, he spots dampening right where your clit would be.

bingo.

your hand cradles his hair, and the other props your body up by the elbow. he glances up at you, cock throbbing against your mattress. your beauty still renders him speechless— runs his throat dry and makes his tongue feel heavy. he doesn’t want to decipher what this means either, and decides to conclude he’s simply thirsty for you.

“suguru,” you call at him. he blinks and the hand in his hair snakes down his neck, and pushes him deeper. his nose nudges at your throbbing clit, and his tongue peeks out of his mouth to lick at the damp material before he can help it. two fingers hook at your panties and push them to the side, revealing glistening folds. your slick drips between your crack and stains your sheets. he thinks he hears his stomach growl a little.

another swipe of his tongue, this time in contact with the raw you, and a breathless moan rips from you, “don’t disappoint me this time.”

and he feasts.

☆ ☆ ☆

gojo’s woken up to a notification from his phone.

it’s still pretty late— or maybe early, and his pretty girlfriend is miles away in lalaland. she snores softly, cuddling into his side, and gojo’s ready to cuss out whoever dares potentially meddle with his girl’s sleep. he’s starting to get grumpy.

when his phone undergoes face recognition, he lowers the brightness immediately. he swipes through his notification center and notices an attachment sent by geto.

now that peeks his interest. he presses on the message.

suguboo: [1 attachment]

suguboo: passed intro2munch101 with an A+ 🫡

gojo can’t help the laugh that leaves him, though is quickly quieted down when he feels stirring at his side.

“well i’ll be damned.”

yes, gojo is obsessed with his girlfriend. also 10k words on geto???

[jaybee2000]

What most people are celebrating on July 4th

🇺🇸🎆🌭🍔🇺🇸🎇

Or

🇬🇧🗳️🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

What I’m celebrating

⛈️🎧🏛️🏺⛈️

[salsflore]

i think i should kill all my f/os with my own two hands btw

[soft-cloud-pillows]

Athena pls come pick this man up before this becomes his 13th reason why 😭😭😭

Calypso really admits to Odysseus he is trapped there with her cause of her spell, and expects him to be happy about it?? Girl- literally the first thing you heard him say, in his sleep mind you- was his wife’s name-

[luveline]

Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll

ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k

Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand? 

But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.  

Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really. 

“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness. 

“I’m thinking.” 

“Aren’t you always?” 

“About you.”

“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.” 

“You’re truly humble.” 

His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again. 

Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Fine.” 

You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow. 

“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.” 

“I’m not traumatised.” 

“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.” 

He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important. 

Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen. 

You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?” 

He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.” 

“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.” 

“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed. 

“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.” 

“What did he say to you?” 

You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.” 

“Did he call you that?” 

“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice. 

“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.” 

“You’re flirting with me.” 

“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours. 

He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession. 

“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says. 

You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go. 

“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.” 

“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.” 

Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.” 

The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Will you do a scenario of how we’d meet Bill for the first time and what he would be like if you were sort of “friends”? 🙏

You were minding your business while walking through the woods of Gravity Falls, just needing a change of scenery and finding the woods to be the perfect place to do so with it’s mushrooms, flowers and the wildlife that crossed your path.

Everything was seemingly fine and not out of the ordinary until you started to feel like you were being watched from somewhere, you looked to see if you could spot anyone, but all you could see were birch trees that had markings on the bark that suspiciously looked like eyes. You were just about thinking of leaving until you heard a voice from somewhere.

‘Hey kiddo!’

You looked to the left, nothing

‘Other way kid.’

the to the right, nothing

‘Colder.’

Up? Nope, nothing.

‘You’re practically an human popsicle at this point.’

How about looking down? Still nothing. Now you were getting confused, scared and annoyed.

You heard the voice sigh and say ‘you’re starting to make me feel sad, here I’ll make this a little easier for you.’ Then before you could say anything, a small yellow triangle with one eye wearing a top hat and bow tie appeared before you.

‘It’s great to finally meet you y/n.’ It said and immediately you were freaked out.

‘Who are you and how did you know my name?’ You asked, uneasy.

‘The names Bill Cipher and I know lots of things, lots of things.’ Bill replied, shrugging. ‘Wanna see what I can do?’ He adds after a brief pause but before you could answer him, he held his hand out to a nearby deer as its teeth were taken out of its mouth and into his small hand in a neat pile. ‘Deer teeth for you kid hehe.’ He then chuckled as he dumped the pile of deer teeth into your hands.

You on the other hand didn’t find this funny and fought the urge to vomit as you offered Bill the deer teeth back. ‘Mind giving the deer its teeth back? I’m sure it has more use for them than either of us.’ You ask as Bill did as you asked and gave the deer its teeth back as it galloped off elsewhere, leaving you alone with the weird triangle in the woods. Everything that had happened within the past five minutes had been overwhelming for you, too overwhelming that you had to sit yourself down on the trunk of a fallen tree and put your head in your hands, muttering to yourself.

‘This isn’t real, this is all some weird fever dream or I’m tripping balls. There’s no other explanation.’

Bill only chuckled as he floated next to you and patted you on the shoulder. ‘There, there human I can reassure you that what you just saw was very much real.’

You looked at him from your hands, unamused. ‘You fucking suck at comforting people you know that?’

‘I think we’ll get along great!’ Bill chirped gleefully.

‘We absolutely will not.’ You replied but you had an inkling that your opinion on the matter didn’t matter.

Now onto how bill would be if you were sort of ‘friends.’

He’s got a weird way about showing his feelings in any capacity.

The little shit put rats, dead rats outside your door, spelling out your name on random ass occasions that made it look like to others that a) you were haunted or b) had a weird stalker who liked to form your name out of dead rats.

He doesn’t want you having friends outside of him because and I quote ‘I’m the only friend you need, why bother with anyone else. So don’t even try cuz I’ll be watching you.’

Will leave sticky post it notes anywhere and everywhere saying to get more silly straws or else he’ll find a way to possess you and make you do embarrassing shit. Ie: walk through town in your underwear, make you speak backwards, kick a child-

Bill was a brat and his pranks were often traumatic but apparently they were ‘light’ in comparison to the stuff he did to his other meat puppets. You didn’t ask any further questions about what he meant by that in fear that he’d show you one as an example.

You are probably the only person who bill has told about his secret technique with mascara and eyeliner, even seeing him do it once when he insisted that you had a ‘sleepover’ at your place. He even points the mascara brush at you warningly as he threatened that you were to never tell people about this or else.

His version of jealousy when he sees you spending time with others is to trash your house and try to act cute when you catch him in the act. You don’t fall for this and give Bill the silent treatment for the rest of the day as he practically lost his shit over your lack of attention.

Probably air horned you awake once.

Bill Wouldn’t tell you this but he make your enemies do stupid shit that resulted in their deaths, for fun he claims but he didn’t want his favourite meat sack to start leaking water from their eyes every time something went wrong in their life. So he just cuts them out in the most brutal way possible.

Bill was stuck to you like glue and there’s was no way to hide from him as he would ultimately appears where you are, even if you’re in the fucking shower, he don’t care.

Bill: *appears in shower* my favourite meat sack have you- stop screaming it’s only me, have you seen a king cobra anywhere, I must’ve dropped it somewhere here-

He probably once threatened you with the whole ‘steal your eyes’ thing like he did with Ford but you had witness enough of Bill’s behaviour to know that he was joking about that, to which he was proud and would magically make a cake filled with worms, bugs and other unpleasant things appear in celebration.

You may or may not have been sick that day.

Your and Bills friendship was weird, probably not the healthiest in all honestly and you should seek help and or maybe therapy for the shit he’s out you through.

You were his property, you were his pet, HIS MEAT SACK and you wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere without him knowing and or being nearby in hopes of catching your eye.

Just a yellow triangle with one eye and a top hat and bow tie floating ominously in the background was enough to unnerve anyone.

You had no freedom as far as you were concerned in this ‘friendship’ but bill likes to claim that he has given you the most freedom out of anyone who has ever existed.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hiiii I wanted to request hazbin boys x injured male reader? Reader gets into a scuffle, gets roughed up quite a bit and comes home not looking too well (I wanna see em fuss over the reader lol)

Mmph, yes yes, I love boys fussing over their injured darling. Too fuckin cute! I have so many great requests for Hazbin and Helluva, I’m so excited 🫨 thanks for the request and enjoy anon 💟

Notes: gn!reader bc anyone can get into a scuffle so why not, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst

TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing, of course it’s suggestive during Angel’s part 😉

Includes Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and Alastor

Hazbin boys x reader- Bruises 🖤

You’re not sure who roughed you up, you barely got a look at the dudes before you were laid out on the dirty sidewalk getting punched and trying to push one of the perpetrators off you. Whoever he was, he was strong and brutal and must’ve really had a problem with you because damn, you were fucked up. Not that you couldn’t hold your own, but there was more than one of them and they really caught you off guard. You had suffered several blows to the face and a few kicks to the stomach and back. Seemed like the group showed just a bit of mercy tho- they could’ve broken your legs or straight up killed you. Luckily, you limped away with only minor injuries but a huge blow to your psyche. While it could’ve been worse, it was horrific and traumatizing regardless.

It’s hard trying to stay tough and take care of yourself because you’re scared, feeling like you’ll have to look over your shoulder from now on when you’re out on the streets. It was also a bit embarrassing considering Husk and Angel offered to tag along with you to keep you safe but your dumb ass insisted you were fine alone.

It was late now, around the time everyone went to bed at the hotel so you were expecting to silently creep inside, hobble to your room and take care of yourself in secret. And if anyone asked about the marks or bruises the next day, you’d just blame it on a wild night of partying. To your surprise, as you walk in the door the entirety of the hotel’s staff and residents were sitting on the floor and couches in the front room, drinking and talking by the fireplace. Of course, Charlie had everyone doing some bonding bullshit late at night. The sound of the door clicking open has everyone’s eyes looking towards you now. “Ah, shit…” Leaves your swollen lips as the crowd gasps and one by one, they all stand and approach your damaged figure. Finally, the one person you really didn’t want to see you like this comes rushing forward to get a good look at you.

Lucifer 🍎

“Oh, Satan! (Y/N), are you okay? What happened? Ohhh, my poor angel!”

Proceeds to fuss and worry over you while wearing the saddest expression :,( his poor bb

Might actually cry a little…just hurts him to see his darling all banged up.

It’s not just the physical pain he senses, it’s the emotional pain you feel too- the fear and the trauma and the stress of it all

His hands just hover all around the most damaged parts of you- fingers almost touching your eye which was now swollen shut, his thumb ghosting over your busted bottom lip

Whisks you away to his room and runs you a bath. Gets you all clean and is probably still whining and crying over you as he watches the bath water turn red with all the blood washing off you and gets you ready for bed.

He’s an emotional man, okay?

He also feels extremely guilty for not being there to protect you. Even if you bluntly told him you don’t need his protection, he feels like it’s still his fault at least a little bit.

Miiiiiiight start a silly little argument over you never leaving the hotel or his side ever again lol

“I just want to protect you, my love. Please! Stop being stubborn.”

He’ll really really baby you tho.

Like even if your legs are working fine, NOPE! Don’t move an inch. Luci will carry you anywhere you desire.

“Lucifer, I just have a black eye and some scrapes. I can walk just fine, babe.”

And he’ll just ignore you and continue to coddle you and do everything for you

For sure this man peppers very gentle, very soft and slow kisses on your tender face once you’re cleaned up and finally resting in his bed

And he for sure cries again in the morning when he wakes up and your face looks even worse

Probably even panics a bit like-

“IM TAKING YOU TO A HOSPITAL OH MY SATAN!!! MY POOR BABY WWAAAA!”

“It’s just some bruises! Luci, they always look worse before they look better, I’m fine.”

Just calm him down with some kisses and words of love

Angel Dust 🕸️

“Holy shit! What happened, babe? Oh no…this is bad. This is sooo bad! This is why we wanted to go with ya.”

Also gets very dramatic and concerned, looks so sad over your battle wounds

But of course he’s a flirt even under tough circumstances and can make a dirty joke even in the most dire situations

He’d definitely tell you you look hot asf and that you’re soooo brave~

Tries to lighten the mood a bit

“(Y/N), I wanna be the only one who gets to rough you up.” *pouts but also winks at you*

Angel has had his fair share of beatings courtesy of Valentino so he’s very good at first aid and knows tons of tricks to help with bruising, cuts, scrapes, preventing scars, relieving the pain.

He’s great at the clean up part but even better at the comfort part

Brings out all six arms to wrap you up in while you lay in his bed, cuddling up to you while offering soft kisses to the parts of you that aren’t so sore.

Angel is always down to fuck so if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll offer you some great sexual healing while being oh so careful of all your wounds and all the painful spots.

Will let you take control too, he hopes it’ll make you feel better and maybe return some of the confidence you lost from this scuffle.

He can spot a bruised ego from a mile away and he’ll do anything to get you feeling happy and secure again.

Also argues with you about never letting you go anywhere alone ever again lol he just loves you too much. If you’re gonna get jumped, he’s either gonna be there to help you out of it or he’s gonna be taking half the beating right next to you.

Reminds me of a song…

“I wanna walk with you, wherever you go to. I wanna hurt with you. Whatever you go through, I do too.” -sour switchblade by Elita

Yeah that’s Angel, just wants to be beside you no matter the circumstances

Husk 🃏

“Oh, you dummy! This is why we wanted to go with you. Oh, doll face. Who did this? You alright?”

Yeah, he’s mean sometimes so he’s gonna scold you for going out alone before the comforting starts.

Ultimately, he doesn’t pull you away to get you cleaned up or anything. Lets you decide what to do next, where to go. He just follows you and keeps a hand on you somewhere to let you know he’s here for you.

Will whip up any drink you ask for in hopes of it relieving the pain a bit

But he’s sneaky, he’s gonna ask you tons of questions about what happened, who did it, where you were, how many of them there was. Won’t give you your drink until you answer him.

Husk is plottin and schemin, wanting to get back at the assholes who did this to you. Hes thinking about all the cool, little weapons he has and what he can do with them to teach those jerks a lesson.

In the end tho, he does get more sentimental and soft spoken later while cuddled up to you in bed.

He’ll purr softly in your ear while letting his hands gently roam your body, tracing comforting circles all over your bruised skin

Will def wrap you up in his silky wings and then proceed to pour out his entire heart to you.

“I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay. You need to listen to me. I know better than you, I’ve been down here a long time. You have to be more careful. I dunno what I’d do if I lost ya, doll. You gotta stick with me, I’ll always protect ya.”

Once you fall asleep, he wanders out to the lobby to find Angel at the bar and there they talk about teaming up to get revenge on the assholes who dared to touch Husk’s little babe

The next morning, of course they’re still talking about it. You’ll have to tell these idiots to stop and just let it go bc omg they sound crazy rn they’re gonna make a mess if you let this continue

Buuuut if you kinda like them fussing over you this much, then by all means let them do their thing as you sit back and enjoy the attention

Ooooh, Husky is getting maadddd. Kinda cute when he lets a protective growl slip out while talking to Angel. Aww he loves you~

Sir Pentious 🐍

Immediate tears and full blown panic attack at the sight of your battered face.

“OH MY GOODNESSSSSS!!! My baby! My darling! Ohhhhhh, you poor thing, come here! I’ll take care of you.”

Doesn’t care that the entirety of the hotel residents are crowded around watching you two- Pentious holds you like a baby in his arms and carefully sinks to the ground with you, holding you so tight it actually kinda hurts due to all your bruises.

Cries for a while like this- goes back and forth between examining your bruises and cuts and bloody nose with his watery eyes to then burying his face in your neck as he weeps for you.

“Pen, I’m okay. Just a little banged up. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I CAN’T HANDLE IT!!! You’re too pretty to be beaten up like thisssss. Aawwwww.” And he’s crying even harder now.

And this goes on for a while until you finally decide to get up and go to your room with him to get cleaned up.

Babies the absolute fuck out of you- brings you food in bed and tries to feed it to you, gets you in the bath and refuses to let you touch anything while insisting he do all the work for you, carries you everywhere.

It’s actually so nice tho- he washes your hair for you real slow and firm as he scrubs your scalp, very carefully washes the dirt and dry blood from your skin only to reveal more bruises he hadn’t seen before, carefully applies ointment to your bloody cuts and scrapes

Listen…this man is not gonna stop crying until you are 100% healed up. Even the next morning, you wake up beside him to see his face wet with tears as he sniffles.

At least you know he really truly deeply cares for you and loves you 💚

“Oh, it’s okay, babe. I’m felling so much better today, especially since I get to start my morning in bed with you.”

And now he decides he’s gonna keep you in bed all day and continue to baby and pamper you

Keeps his tail and most of his body wrapped around you loosely all day as you watch movies and relax. Cant stop staring at your face and focusing on each blue and black bruise you wear, eyeing every cut and scrape and the split skin on your lip.

You took a beating and he thinks it’s only fair that you and him stay in bed until you’re truly feeling well enough to resume your normal daily tasks.

Of course, he has to stay with you in case you need something! Can’t leave his injured partner alone, wouldn’t dream of it!

Vox 🖥️

(I know he’s not at the hotel, pretend you just walked into V Tower instead, k?)

REVENGE REVENGE REVENGE

“WHAT. THE. FUCK?! Who? Where? When? HOW FUCKING HOW DARE THEY-“

You’ll have to cut him off or he’ll go on an entire raging tangent about revenge and eventually short circuit lol

“Voxy, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get clean and go to bed.”

He slowly cools off and begins to focus more on you and your injuries, asking if you’re okay or if there’s anything he can do. Now behind closed doors, his entire attitude changes.

He’s following you into every room, watching you with an expression of intense sadness and concern, wishing he could take all your pain and give it to himself instead. He’d suffer for you if it meant seeing you happy and healthy

Sits in the bathroom in silence but keeps you company while you wash up. He might ask if you need help but also wants to give you space and make sure you feel safe

Assists you in getting dressed while making it very romantic and being very attentive. Vox will so slowly slip your pajamas onto you while letting his claws ghost over all your bruises.

Will lean in and kiss your busted lips right as your head pops through the top of your shirt, followed by a smile and probably more kisses

Listen, most of these boys are gonna become way more over protective after this incident okay? Vox is most definitely not an exception

Insists that either He’s gonna be with you every where you go from now on or he’s gonna send security with you every where you go from now on.

And no matter who is with you when you’re out in the streets, his cameras will also be watching over you.

Oh yeah, and he goes back in the cam footage and has a perfect view of the whole incident. He watches it over a few times before ordering a hit on every sinner who dared to mess with his lover.

You’ll never have to worry or look over your shoulder or worry again 😘

Alastor 🩸

Doesn’t say much or even stay long to worry about you at first.

He’s more angry and bent on revenge than anything. He’s worried about you too but he knows you’re strong and can take care of yourself.

He slips off to do some exploring and investigating to find out who did this to you

Spends maybe an hour figuring it out and then promptly goes on a murder spree to take care of all those pesky sinners who dared to lay a finger on his beloved

Okay, now that that’s out of his system, he can come back and take care of you.

Isn’t as cuddly and romantic as the others but he still babies you and refuses to let you do anything for yourself.

“Now now, darling. Just relax. I’ll have you cleaned up and feeling better in no time.”

Bathes you, dresses you, tucks you into bed all while humming slow tunes to you

Doesn’t cuddle you but sits on the bed beside you and gives your head some gentle pets

“You won’t have to worry any longer, my dove. I took care of those degenerates and I’ll never let you wander the streets of hell alone ever again.”

Will place a gentle kiss on your throbbing head before leaving you to rest.

He’s serious tho, anywhere you go he goes too. You’re never leaving his sight again ���️‍🩹

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Grimmjow getting jealous of his s/o gushing over cute cats?

“Who’s a pretty kitty? Are you? Yes you are!”

Grimmjow growled under his breath. Watching [Y/N] pet some stray that had walked up to them and scratching behind the cats ears. Their loud purring and [Y/N]’s incessant cooing at them was getting annoying.

“Can we go? I’m tired of standing around out here.”

[Y/N] gave a quick ‘oh, sure’ and stood up. The two of them moved to leave and just as they got a few paces ahead, the cat was following them. “Awww! Look Grimm! He’s trying to follow us home.”

“This is why you shouldn’t pet strays.” He grumbled.

“But he was just so cute! Do you think he’ll really follow us the whole way home?”

Grimmjow growled again, then turned around a hissed loudly at the cat. The feline instantly shuttered and took off with it’s tail between his legs. “What was that for??”

“I don’t want it following us home.” He told them. Grabbing their hand and pulling them along.

[Y/N] frowned and tried to wrench their hand away. But, no luck. His grip was too strong. “That was still really mean Grimm. There’s no reason for you to scare the poor thing like that. He’s probably traumatized.”

The Arrancar scoffed. “Please. He’s a wild animal. He’ll be fine.”

“He’s a stray cat. Not a jaguar.”

“Which you already have at home.”

[Y/N] stopped all of a sudden. Acting as an anchor to their walk and stopping Grimmjow as well. “Is that what this is about? You’re jealous of a little cat.”

He looked shocked before he quickly frowned. “No! Don’t be stupid! I just don’t want all those fleas around the house. I don’t want to get contaminated just because you keep picking up strays.”

He pulled them along again, and this time [Y/N] followed. After a moment they told him, “if you want me to pet you when I get home I can.”

“I’m not jealous!” He snapped at them. But, after a moment as well, he told them, “if you wash your hands first….”

[persephonesdreams21]

NSFW Alphabet with Lee

A/N: I had to write something for him. This is the character that threw me into my Timmy obsession. Ugh Lee, my tragic handsome baby. I need everyone to write more fics for him kay thanks! Also side note- I try to keep my readers a little ambiguous so that everyone can feel included- but Lee and a chubby! Reader just make sense to me.

Warnings: Not safe for work. Smutty. Talks of Switchy/Bottom Lee. Lee x AFAB!Reader.

After Care(what they're like after sex)

Lee is surprisingly gentle after sex. He’ll grab the towel from the hamper in the corner and clean both of you up with it. You were super embarrassed about it the first time he did it but like. It’s something he enjoys doing, a part of his inner routine. He wants you to open your legs and let him wipe you down. Then a lot of the time he wants you to play with his hair. Needy thing.

“Spread em” Lee drawls as he comes back from the bathroom with a wet rag. You’re still loose limbed and fuzzy brained and it takes a minute for you to realize what he’s saying “Seriously, I’ll clean you up”

“You don't have to, it’s fine” Your messy cum wet thighs clamp shut.

He approaches you slowly, like you’re a skittish animal that might bolt. You’re two seconds away from burying yourself under your thick duvet and hiding from him. Lee sits by your feet and reaches for you. His rough fingers run along your smooth calf.

“But I wanna. If you’ll let me”

Body Part(their fave body part of theirs, and of their partners)

Lee’s too skinny, his words not yours. All ribcage and gangly limbs. If he’d have to pick a favorite, he’d say his hands. They’re capable; he’s got long tattooed fingers and calloused palms from hard manual labor. He can build just about anything with them. He can take care of you with them.

Lee loves your thighs and what's between them. They’re so wide, so plush. You complain about cellulite and ingrown hairs and he’s just like? What? They’re perfect. Let me use them as earmuffs. He wants to be cradled by them forever. Loves your belly too any thing he can dig his fingers into.

Cum(anything to do with it)

Lee is into watching both his cum and your own drip out of your puffy pussy after an intense bout of fucking.

It’s almost routine now, like praying before bed. Like watching the sun rise with your morning cup of coffee warming your hands before work.

The sex with Lee is always good. Always surprising. There’s nothing this man won’t do to you, or let you do to him. It’s an adventure with your best friend, one that ends in you both writhing in pleasure.

With him filling you up.

You and Lee hadn’t been together for long, your six month anniversary’s just on the horizon, but if you know anything about this man. It’s that once he got the green light, he doesn’t finish anywhere but inside of you.

And then. Then he wants to see the damage. He wants to peel your thighs apart and stare right at your puffy, swollen cunt. Ah, his poor baby’s pretty pussy. He’s gentle as his bony fingers probe the tender lips. Spreads them-

There’s your hole. The one he’d just pulled out of, all tiny again now that it’s not stretched around his girth.

He watches hypnotized as milky fluid, both his cum and yours, leaks from inside of you. So much that your body just can’t hold it, no matter how hard you try.

You have your routines. Your prayers. He has his. His religion is right here. In between your legs.

Dirty Secret(self explanatory)

Lee loves anal play. On both you and him. This boy wants to be pegged!

“Have you ever done that?” He asks as he sucks on the end of the joint he’d rolled for the two of you. There’s no judgment in his voice, just curiosity.

The topic is anal. And if you’ve ever had it.

“Yeah” you bite in your bottom lip. “It kinda sucked if I’m being real”

You’d had an ex who’d shoved his prick up your ass and made you cry. He hadn’t even taken the time to properly relax or lube you up. It had kind of traumatized you to be honest. You tell Lee all about it, because you tell Lee about everything these days. There’s no secrets between the two of you.

He frowns, thick brows furrowing “nah, it’s not supposed to be like that. That fucker didn’t treat you right, it’s supposed to feel good”

You shrug “If you say so”

“I do. I love the way it feels whenever anyone does it to me” Lee says it so casually, but keeps an eye on you, gauging your reaction.

“Really?”

“Really” it’s factual, punctuated with a little nod “I’d let you try it. If you want. We can like- do me first and then I could show you how anals actually supposed to feel”

Your pulse picks up with excitement. You can feel it in your pussy, and you know the way you squeeze your thighs together to get any kind of friction isn’t discreet.

Lee pretends not to see but his smile is hungry.

“Okay, yes. I want to try”

Experience(how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

Um. He’s so experienced. With both men and women. Lee’s done alot in his young age. Had to, to survive a lot of the time.

When he realized you didn’t judge him for his past, that's when he really started to feel the emotional attachment form.

“You’re not a bad person for what you’ve done, Lee. Everyone’s done shit they’re not super proud of…it doesn’t take away from who you actually wanna be”

Favorite Position(this goes without saying)

He doesn't really care. But he’s partial to you riding him. He loves feeling pinned underneath you and watching you bounce on top of him.

Goofy(are they more serious in the moment? Are they goofy?

Lee’s a fucking goofball. He’s making you giggle. He’s choking on laughter as you choke on his cock. He can be serious, for sure. But a lot of the time the two of you are very playful with one and other.

Hair(how well groomed they are)

Lee never really cared before you, but he gives himself a courtesy trim now. Still a pretty thick dark bush. You kind of love it. You also do not play about personal hygiene- showers Lee. You’ve got to take them. You know there was a point in his life when he didn’t have access to them. Had to bathe in rivers and McDonald’s bathrooms- but that’s not the case anymore.

He tried to pretend he doesn’t like your expensive skin creams you share with him but you’ve got him hooked.

Intimacy(how they are during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Lee has had a lot of sex with a lot of people, but it’s never felt like this. He's addicted to you. He wants to be close to you, inside of you, like 24/7. He really cant believe he gets to be with you and alot of the time when he’s fucking you he’s just staring at you. In awe.

Jack Off(masturbation headcanon)

Lee’s always got a hand down his pants lol. He loves to masturbate. He loves when you watch him stroke his cock. He wants to watch you play with yourself too. It’s a whole thing.

Kink(one or more of their kinks)

Peg him. Also- mommy kink. Yes. Lowkey might have a thing for breastfeeding/titsucking. He just thinks your’re the most luscious woman he’s ever met…and yeah he does lowkey have mommy issues.

Location(favorite places to do the do?)

After fucking and being fucked on the side of the road or in dirty bathroom stalls, he really just loves having sex in the safety of your apartment. In your big cozy bed or the comfortable couch.

He also likes it when the two of you go camping or stargazing and he can fuck you under the night sky, with only the stars at witnesses.

Motivation(what turns them on? Get’s them going?)

You and that teasing little smile you give him. The one where your canines look like fangs. The one that's usually followed by coy barely there touches and feather light kisses. Yeah. All it takes is a smile.

No(something they wouldn't do? Turns off’s)

He doesn't want to hurt you. He’s hurt so many people before. He can't do anything past mild choking and spanking. He WON'T.

Oral(preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc?)

He loves it. Both giving and receiving. But he just feels so good when hes between your thighs. He’s your pretty boy when he’s sucking on your clit. PLEASE sit on his face.

Pace(are they fast and rough, slow and sensual?)

Lee wasn't used to someone wanting to take their time with him. It almost made him uncomfortable the first time that you slowly ran your hands over his body. Cherishing him. Savoring the closeness to him. Kissing every inch of his skin, not caring about scars or cheap tattoos. It makes him feel flayed alive. He learns to love slow paced, agonizingly tender sex.

Quickie(their opinions on quickies, how often?)

Hell yeah.

Like he gets home from a long day at his shitty grueling job he just wants to quickly fuck your brains out, and then watch one of your shared TV shows before bed.

Or when you’re getting ready for a nice dinner out with your friends, and your makeups done. And your hair is all bouncy and you smell good enough to make his mouth water.

Or in the car before an aquarium date. Lee will take what he can get when ever he can get it when it comes to you.

Risk(are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Loves taking risks in the bedroom. Honestly once the two of you have built that trust between each other, there’s not much you won’t do. Lee’s a Sub leaning Switch(in my humble opinion) and will literally lay back and let you have your way with him. He doesn’t care. There’s no shame in his sex game.

Stamina(how many rounds can they go? How long can they last?)

He can fuck. Over and over. He’s like a rabbit.

Toys(do they own toys? Will they use them?)

Lee’s game. But then again he’s game for pretty much anything. He likes making you writhe on your vibrator, overstimulating you until you're sobbing. Have you made him wear one of your butt plugs to dinner? Yes you have lol

Trips to Sex Shops are frequent, fun affairs.

Unfair(how much they like to tease)

Lee’s a fucking TEASE. He's just too good at playing the game of cat & mouse.

Volume(how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc)

Lee is sooo vocal and you adore it. You’ve never been with a vocal man and he’s such a whiner. He’ll whine and grunt and beg. He’ll dirty talk you to the ends of the earth. He’ll call you Mommy, Pretty Girl, Sweet Heart. Babe. Sexy. It all makes your head spin.

Wild Card(a random headcanon for the character)

Lee wants you to fuck him. Wants you to hold him in your arms and play with his rim. Prostate massages are “awesome babe. Here. Let me show you how to do it”

X-Ray(let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big thick cock on that twiggy man. A healthy 7 1/2 inches and girthy. The first time you see it your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. You guess its true what they say about skinny tall boys.

Yearning(how high is their sex drive?)

Lee’s a very sexual creature. Like in a primal way. Every interaction can be erotic with him and its honestly a little bit overwhelming to be around.

Zzz(how quickly they fall asleep after)

Lee has his little routine after sex. Cleans the both of you up, half assed sometimes, and then he’s out like a light. No seriously. Lee has been homeless more than a few times in his life(I was exploring. It was by choice! he’d protest when you pointed it out) he’s slept under bridges and in tents and surfed lumpy couches. You and your warm pussy and your lush bed knock him out.

[thehereticdiaries]

A (Not So) Meet Cute: Chapter Two

Chapter Summary: You finally get home, the skz boys talk about you, and you get added to a very chaotic group chat (sorry i kinda suck at summaries)

Warnings: None for this chapter, it's mostly building plot

Series Masterlist

Chan held your elbow to steady you as you stepped over the shattered glass on the ground. Once outside, you started towards the closest bus stop, eager to get back to your apartment and take a goddamn nap. 

“Where are you going?” The grip Chan had on your elbow tightened slightly, stopping you from walking away. His eyebrows were furrowed, and you mirrored his expression.

“To the bus stop? How else am I supposed to get home?” This felt like an obvious answer to you. 

“Nah, I already messaged one of our drivers. He’ll be here any minute now to bring us to your apartment,” Chan explained. Your eyebrows shot up toward your hairline. 

“Us?”

“I’m not about to let you take public transport by yourself with your phone dead. You’ve had enough excitement for one day, yeah?” A car pulled up right as you opened your mouth to protest. Chan opened the back door, tilting his head like he was daring you to say no. You sighed but climbed into the backseat, scooting over when Chan got in next to you. 

“Hey Dohyun, thank you for getting here so quickly,” Chan greeted the driver. He dipped his head in a quick bow to return the greeting, then looked at you. You told the elder the name of your apartment building and he quickly returned to the road. The car was comfortably quiet, the only sound being a soft jazz melody. You stared out the window, trying to process the events of your day. All too quickly Dohyun was parking the car in a visitor spot in the apartment’s garage. You and Chan both unbuckled your seat-belts and you shot him yet another confused look.

“I don’t want to overstep your boundaries here. You can totally tell me to piss off, but I’d feel more comfortable if I could walk you to your apartment. I want to make sure your phone turns back on and my text went through,” Chan rambled in your stunned silence. “You don’t have to, of course, but-”

“Chan, it’s fine. You can come up for a bit,” you interrupted. Chan looked genuinely relieved. You shook your head and stepped out of the car. What the fuck was your life right now?! The Bang Chan was in your apartment, sitting on your couch. You focused on keeping your composure while plugging in your phone. 

“You’re going to press charges, right?” 

“Oh, um, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Maybe?” Your statement sounded more like a question. Chan shot you a look that you couldn’t decipher. 

“The other boys and I will help, you know. We’ll testify against that man,” Chan insisted. Your heart swelled with gratitude and admiration for the leader. You stomped down on the butterflies fluttering around your stomach.

Don’t get it twisted, Y/N, he’s being nice because you went through a traumatic event. He doesn’t- your thoughts were cut off by your phone vibrating endlessly on your desk. 

“Jesus, it figures I’d get a million notifications on the only day my phone is dead,” you mumbled in English and picked your phone up. Chan snickered behind his hand. You ignored most of the notifications for now, opting to look for Chan’s text first. You could go through the rest after he left. 

“You get it?” You nodded and sent a message back to him so he’d have your number. “Good. I should get back to the studio to make sure the boys are alright.” Chan stood. You walked him to your door, and he turned back to you once he was in the hallway.

“Seriously, I can’t thank you all enough. I don’t know what would have happened if Seungmin didn’t show up,” you repeated. Chan smiled but shook his head slightly.

“Is it alright if I give your number to everyone else?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Alright, remember to text one of us if you need any help with the court process. Or just text us for fun. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we’d like to get to know you.” Your cheeks heated and you lost the ability to form a coherent sentence, so you just nodded. Chan looked very pleased with this. With a small wave, he strolled down the hallway toward the elevators. You closed your door, leaning your forehead against the wood to calm yourself. 

Chan returned to the car and hopped back into the backseat. Dohyun raised his eyebrows, giving the younger man a knowing look. Chan rolled his eyes but couldn’t contain his grin.

“Just get back to the studio, please,” he pleaded. Dohyun chuckled but didn’t inquire any further. 

Back at the studio, the other members of Stray Kids were discussing everything that happened while they helped clean up the mess. 

“How the hell did you manage to get such a cute girl’s attention?” Changbin poked Seungmin on the cheek. The younger swatted his hand away.

“Dude, she was being followed by a man she didn’t know,” Seungmin scoffed. “I happened to be the first person that went into the cafe.”

“Hey I had no idea what was going on!” Changbin held his hands up in surrender. “I came out here to Minho cursing and talking about calling the cops. Next thing I know, a brick is breaking our door and you and Chan are getting in some guy’s face.”

“You waited that long to see why we all left the recording booth?” Jisung teased. Changbin rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t notice you leaving, I was messing with the backing vocal track.” Seungmin dragged a hand down his face at the rapper’s obliviousness. Felix filled him in with an abridged version of the situation. 

“Oh, shit.”

“Wait, you didn’t know what was happening and yet you joined the fight anyway?” Seungmin quipped with his eyebrows raised. 

“I wouldn’t really call it a fight,” Felix commented. Seungmin glared at him half-heartedly. 

“You and Chan got up in the guy’s face. I trust you both, so I figured he must have done something to deserve it,” Changbin explained. The rumble of an engine interrupted them. Moments later, Chan was stepping through the broken door. Multiple voices spoke over each other until Chan raised a hand.

“Guys, guys, one at a time,” he sighed. “Before you even ask: yes she’s home safe and yes she said I can give everyone her number.” Jisung sprung up, phone in hand. “Jisung, chill. I’ll send her contact to the group chat.”

“You couldn’t have done that on your way back?” Hyunjin asked incredulously. The eldest just shrugged in response before sending your phone number to the “single father of seven” (Seungmin was to blame for the name) group chat. 

“You’re sure she got to her apartment?” Seungmin questioned. Chan nodded, still distracted by his phone.

“Yea, I waited with her until her phone turned on.”

“You got to go into her apartment?!” Jisung shook Chan’s shoulder. “You cheater!”

“What?! How and why am I a cheater?”

“You got to spend alone time with Y/N!” He accused. “You’re trying to get her to like you more.” Chan rolled his eyes at Jisung’s shit-eating grin. 

“You’re a menace,” Chan snickered. “Alright, we’re done for today. Let’s get back to the dorms.” The boys filed out of the studio. A second car had joined the one Dohyun occupied. Chan, Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin climbed into Dohyun’s car while everyone else got in the other. 

“Hey, Chan?” Seungmin started.

“Yes, I told her that she should press charges and that we would help if she wanted it,” Chan answered before he could even ask the question. Seungmin closed his mouth, a little annoyed that he was so obvious but mostly relieved that you knew they would be there for you. The car fell to silence as they chatted in the newly made group, this one including you. 

You: I seriously can’t believe I’m texting Stray Kids right now :0

Jeongin: are you stay?

Seungmin: obviously not, if she didn’t recognize me lmao

You: hey!! I was a little distracted >:(

You: but to answer your question, i listen to your music sometimes but i wouldn’t say i’m a true stay

Jisung: booooooo! 

Hyunjin: im offended

Chan: pls chill i am begging

Felix: yea, its not that big a deal. we can turn her into a stay >:3c

You: oh sweet baby jesus, should i be scared?

Jisung: no

Hyunjin: no

Felix: no

Seungmin: yes 🙄

You: …………

Chan: im so sorry 

You giggled throughout the conversation. Sure, you were a little starstruck but you were definitely playing up your nervousness. It was funny watching them argue amongst themselves. You spent the rest of your afternoon half paying attention to a new show on Netflix, but most of your focus was on the group chat (which Jisung lovingly named “certified yappers”). You had an oddly warm feeling in your chest bloom as you learned more about the personalities hidden behind the idol image. 

You: i need to go to bed, i have work in the morning. gn guys!

You got a chorus of “goodnight” texts from everyone except for Seungmin. Oh, well. He might have fallen asleep already. No use worrying about it, you thought to yourself while going through your night time routine. Another text came through right after you settled under your blankets. You gaped at the message.

Seungmin: im walking you to work tomorrow. dont even bother arguing, ill meet you outside your building at 8:30. goodnight, Y/N

[sophrosynesworld]

Just Friends?

actor!Katsuki x actress!Reader

The studio lights cast a warm glow over the set as the host welcomes everyone back from the commercial break. I stand in the wings, nervously fixing my hair. Katsuki stands beside me, unfazed by the upcoming interview. The audience buzzes with anticipation, eager to hear from us about our latest movie.

"Welcome back to the Midnight Mic, everyone!" Late-night talk show host Hizashi Yamada greets the crowd, his voice bouncing around the room, riling everyone up. "We have a great show lined up for you tonight, so don't leave your seats!" Hizashi walks from center stage over towards his desk, pulling out the chair before directing his attention towards the second camera.

"Tonight, we have some amazing guests. Please join me in welcoming two of the biggest stars on the silver screen, Katsuki Bakugo and his leading lady!"

The applause is deafening, and I can't help but smile. Katsuki gestures for me to walk out first, my heels clicking as I wave to the audience. It's instantly twenty degrees hotter as the stage lights beat down on me. I don’t have to look back to know when Bakugo follows; the crowd’s excitement peaks as he steps out, giving a casual nod, his usual confident demeanor softened by a playful smirk. He glances at me as we sit, leaning over to adjust my dress.

"It's great to have you both here," Hizashi begins, turning towards us. "You two have been the talk of the town with your new film. How's the stardom feel?"

Katsuki leans back in his chair, clearly relaxed. "It's been a wild ride," he admits, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Most of us have done fine with the publicity. My co-star, on the other hand," he jokes, nodding towards me, "couldn't handle the heat at first."

I laugh, covering my red cheeks before nudging him playfully. "Yeah, this is just my first major hit. I wasn't used to the more persistent fans. This has been a wonderful experience though. The entire crew has really bonded over the last twenty weeks.

Our host raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "You seem to have a great dynamic, both on and off screen. What's it like working together?"

I glance at Katsuki, who gives me a look that says, "Go ahead." I smile and turn back towards Hizashi. "It's honestly been amazing. I don’t think Katsuki liked me very much in the beginning—"

“I didn’t.”

"—but I finally wore him down enough to tolerate me." I laugh, swatting his arm away while crossing my legs. "He’ll never admit it, but we clicked right away. It'll inflate his ego, but he's won three Oscars for a reason." I laugh lightly, smiling at the memories.

Katsuki grins, crossing his arms. "She’s being modest. I've won 4." The crowd laughs as he changes the conversation. "Honestly, she's the best costar I've had in a while. She's going to kill me during the nominations this year. I mean, there was this one scene where she just—"

"Oh, no, not this story," I interject, laughing.

He chuckles, ignoring my protests. "We're filming this one scene with all these seasoned professionals, folks who have been in this business for decades." He pauses, looking at me. "They had to rewrite the first version of the scene because her acting was so horrifyingly raw and realistic that it traumatized the crew. They thought she was actually dying."

Our host leans in, clearly shocked. "Are you going to tell us more? You can't leave us with crumbs!"

Katsuki shakes his head, his crimson eyes sparkling with mischief. "Definitely not. You'll have to see it in theaters to find out."

I shake my head sheepishly. "I don't even know if they left it in or not. They told me to act, so I did."

"This is why I love you guys. You're always so honest about your lives." Hizashi grins. Now, I hate to gossip, but there's been a lot of questions about your off-screen relationship. Care to clear up the rumors?"

Katsuki and I exchange a knowing look, a silent agreement passing between us. I decide to answer, leaning forward slightly. "We have a really close friendship. We're both super passionate about our work and love what we do, which makes working together even better. We definitely have a flirty friendship, but it's all in good fun."

Katsuki nods, his expression softening. "Yeah, she's great. We just get each other, you know? It's easy to be around her, whether we're on set or just hanging out."

Hizashi smiles, clearly enjoying our interview. "Well, it's clear that you two have a special connection. Before we go, is there anything you'd like to say to your fans?"

I turn to the camera, feeling a wave of gratitude. "Just a huge thank you to all the fans for their amazing support. This entire experience has been mind-blowing, and I can't wait for everyone to see it. We hope you love it as much as we do."

Katsuki chimes in with a grin. "Yeah, thanks for sticking with us, extras. Our new movie comes out in theaters September 22nd!"

The audience laughs and claps, clearly enjoying their money spent. Hizashi wraps up our segment, and as the band leads us to commercial, Katsuki leans over, nudging me gently. "You did great," he murmurs, a genuine smile on his face.

I grin back at him. "You weren't too bad yourself," I tease, standing up and heading back towards the green room, waving goodbye to some of our fans in the audience.

Katsuki is quick to follow, his steps only a few paces behind mine, practically pushing my bodyguard out of the way. I open the door and sit down on the oversized couch. Katsuki follows my lead, plopping himself close to me. His large hands almost instantly wrap around me, lifting me up and pulling me into his chest. I straddle him, our bodies dangerously close together.

"Just friends?" Suki whispers, his lips grazing mine as he looks at me.

"Just friends," I reply, the words soft and delicate as my freshly polished fingers wrap around the fabric of his shirt, closing the distance between us.

Authors Note: I'm obsessed with this idea and could probably write 200 of these little one shots.

[estellesdoll]

31 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 | 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

⊹. 𝒅𝒂𝒚 31 : 𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌'𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒍𝒆 𖧧 . ָ࣪    ִֶָ

𓄹 ࣪.𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𓄹 ࣪.𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𓄹 ࣪.𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 : Chris and the reader plan the ultimate Christmas reveal for Nick: he's going to be an uncle.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 : future dad!chris sturniolo x pregnant!reader

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : pure fluff

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 : 1k

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 :HELLO, EVERYONE! WE’VE FINALLY REACHED THE END OF THE POSTS ON THE CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST. I WISH YOU A WONDERFUL NEW YEAR AND THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT!

I know this Christmas masterlist is filled with pregnant!reader content, but I honestly couldn’t resist 😭.

You sat on the couch, sipping hot cocoa as Chris fussed over the placement of a particular ornament for the third time.

“Babe, it looks fine,” you said, laughing softly. “Nick’s not gonna notice if the star isn’t perfectly aligned.”

Chris turned to you, holding the ornament like it was the Holy Grail. “He notices everything. You know he’ll make some snarky comment about my lack of symmetry. I just want this to be perfect.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, running a hand over your small but noticeable baby bump. “It’s not like he’s gonna be staring at the tree once he opens his gift.”

Chris set the ornament down and walked over to kneel in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. “You think he’s gonna freak out?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Hmm. Freak out as in scream and throw himself on the floor? Or freak out as in go completely silent and then explode five minutes later?”

Chris laughed, his dimples making an appearance. “I’m betting on the second one.”

You grinned, reaching out to smooth his hair. “Either way, it’s gonna be a Christmas he’ll never forget.”

--------

The sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, followed by Nick’s unmistakable voice.

“Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals!” he called out, his footsteps heavy as he stomped snow off his boots. “Where’s the eggnog? And why does it smell like cinnamon in here? Did you two join a Hallmark movie cult?”

Chris smirked and got up, heading toward the hallway. “We’re in the living room, Einstein. And no, we just know how to set the mood.”

Nick appeared a moment later, carrying a tray of cookies and a bottle of eggnog. His eyes immediately darted to the Christmas tree. “Wow. This is…a lot. Did you hire an interior decorator, or is this all you, Chris?”

“Rude,” Chris shot back, crossing his arms. “I’ll have you know I did all of this myself. With some help, of course.”

Nick’s gaze shifted to you, and he raised a brow. “Let me guess—she’s the one with the actual taste?”

You laughed, holding up your mug. “Guilty as charged.”

Nick plopped down on the couch beside you, draping an arm over the backrest. “Well, I gotta say, this is impressive. Almost too impressive. Are you two hiding something? Because this is giving ‘we’re about to drop a major bombshell’ energy.”

Chris shot you a quick look, his lips twitching as he tried to hide a grin. “What? Us? No way. Just a totally normal, boring Christmas Eve.”

Nick narrowed his eyes but didn’t press further.

--------

After some idle chit-chat and cookie munching, Chris clapped his hands together. “Alright, time for gifts!”

Nick raised a brow. “We’re doing this before dinner? That’s suspicious.”

“Just go with it,” you said, biting back a laugh.

Chris handed Nick the golden gift box, his expression carefully neutral. “This one’s from both of us.”

Nick eyed the box suspiciously. “This better not be another one of those prank gifts. I’m still traumatized from the time you gave me that fake lottery ticket.”

“Just open it,” Chris urged, gesturing impatiently.

With a dramatic sigh, Nick tore into the wrapping paper, revealing the plain cardboard box inside. “Oh, good. A box. Just what I’ve always wanted.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Nick lifted the lid, and the sarcasm melted from his face the moment he saw the onesie inside. He stared at it, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process the words printed across the fabric: Best Uncle Ever.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he looked up, his eyes darting between you and Chris. “Wait. Is this—are you—?”

Chris grinned, his dimples on full display. “Surprise.”

Nick let out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand through his hair. “No freaking way. You’re having a baby?!”

You nodded, tears pricking your eyes. “You’re gonna be an uncle, Nick.”

Nick shot to his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the tree. “Holy crap. This is huge. Like, this is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to this family. I mean, aside from me being born, obviously.”

Chris snorted. “Obviously.”

--------

Nick spun around, pointing a finger at Chris. “You realize this means you have to get your act together, right? No more last-minute Target runs for diapers. And you better start reading parenting books, like, yesterday.”

Chris held up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Dr. Phil. We’ve got it under control.”

Nick turned to you, his expression softening. “And you—you’re gonna be the best mom ever. But, uh, just so you know, I’m claiming the title of ‘favorite uncle’ right now.”

You laughed, wiping at your eyes. “Deal.”

He dropped back onto the couch, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this. This is the best Christmas present ever. You guys really outdid yourselves.”

Chris nudged him. “So, you’re happy?”

“Happy? Are you kidding? I’m ecstatic. This kid’s gonna have the coolest uncle ever. I’m talking matching outfits, secret handshakes, the works.”

Chris groaned. “Oh God. What have we done?”

--------

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, hugs, and heartfelt conversations. Nick insisted on re-wrapping the onesie so he could open it again, and Chris recorded his reaction for posterity.

Later, as the three of you sat by the fire, Nick leaned over and placed a hand on your belly. “Hey, kiddo. It’s your Uncle Nick. Just so you know, I’m gonna teach you all the cool stuff. Like how to make the perfect peanut butter sandwich. And how to annoy your dad.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Great. Just what I needed.”

You smiled, resting your hand over Nick’s. “This baby is already so loved.”

As the fire crackled and the snow fell outside, you couldn’t help but feel that this Christmas was the start of something truly magical.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 : @emely9274 @gemzyy

@/estellesdoll

𓄹 ࣪. like, reblog 𑁍 comment

﹒◟send me your requests and use an emoji if you want to stay anonymous. 𓂃

[pipi-un-kaki-in-pipi-land]

your works are jaw dropping broOOO. gorgeous. a work of art. you SLAY at writing hcs i love it so much i really hope you can write more <33

demon slayer povs: the hashiras tending to your wounds

this comment really motivated me to write more of this TYSM ANON ily

wc: 1.1k>

Giyu

he’d probably complete the whole procedure silently, as he’s scared you’d waste your energy talking to him

you saw him carefully unwrapping the bandages and painstakingly wrapping it around your arm as you slightly winced at the pain

‘oh-, y/n, you okay? sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,”

you reassured him with a small nod as he gently continued to wrap the bandage, placing a kiss on it once he was done

“thanks hun,” you smiled weakly at him

“get well soon, darling,” he said before he got up to fetch some water

Iguro

just like giyu, he’d do it with silent treatment though you’d hear kaburamaru’s quiet hisses along the way

throughout the bandaging, he momentarily stopped as it reminded himself of the time where he had to bandage his own mouth to hide his traumatic scars

“darling, you okay?” you asked, worried at the sudden slight widening of his eyes

“oh, its nothing,” he shrugged it off, but you sensed that it had something to do with the bandage on his mouth

while he was calmly wrapping the wound on your leg, you leaned down and placed a heartfelt kiss on his forehead

“you're beautiful just the way you are,” you said as he glanced up at you

his eyes crinkled slightly; you knew that put a smile on his face

Mitsuri

she’d probably tend to your wounds the loudest way possible, constantly asking if you were okay

“oh dear, y/n, this looks terrible,” a pouty frown emerged on her face as she cleansed your wounds with cotton pads. “you okay??”

“im fine, honey, don’t worry too much,” you replied with a smile as you admiringly watched her bandage up the injuries on your knee

“alrighty! i hope this makes you feel better, darling. i put some ointment that kocho offered,” she smiled cheerfully, as she gave you a gentle headpat

“thanks ‘suri, youre the best,” you returned her smile with an even happier one from you

Muichiro

would be quiet too but would occasionally check up on you

he’d go like “oh, does this hurt?” or “you feeling okay?”

you were technically the only person he could express his true behavior to

he’d be experienced in this kind of stuff since he had to take care of his mom when she was sick

the thought of his sick mom made him want to protect you even more. he’d already lost his family, he couldn’t afford to lose you too

he’d treat the wound as meticulously as possible to prevent it from worsening

“thank you, mui. you don't know how much i treasure you,” you warmly smiled at him

though he didn’t say anything back, you knew his smile was all you needed to see.

Kyojuro

tbh i feel like he’ll just treat you like how he treated tanjiro when he got stabbed during the mugen train arc

“kyo, it huuurts,” you whined, hoping that he’ll do something instead of keep asking you to control your breathing

“okay okay, i’ll go fetch the med kit. make sure to control your breathing to stop the blood from coming out!” he darted to the other end of the house to get the necessities, his voice still loud as ever

when he got back, he tended to your lacerations as gently as possible, doing all of it with a proud smile on his face

“why the long face, y/n?” he noticed that your usual happy aura had dissipated all of a sudden

“i- i just hate being weak. i hate that you have to get distracted by your missions just to tend to my injuries,” you pouted, biting your lip

“my love, its part & parcel of your journey to make mistakes. as you continue on, you’ll find that these obstacles are nothing compared to what you’re actually facing. so, heads up, and look brightly into your future, okay?” he cheered you on while giving you a soft pat on the shoulder

“thank you, kyo.” you gratefully smiled as you dozed the rest of the evening off

Sanemi

he definitely wasn’t the best at playing it gentle

“ouuuch, nemi, be gentler please,” you winced as he placed a bandaid on your collarbone

“bold of you to say, y/n. somehow you don’t act like this when we’re making out,” he sneered, as he discarded the cotton wools in the trash

you were left speechless as an obvious blush sprawled across your face. only your boyfriend could make you like that, and you loved him for it

“yeah that’s right hun. now be a good toy and rest till i come back,” he taunted, though you swore you heard him mutter “get well soon darling” before he uttered those words

Tengen

he most likely cleans injuries with flamboyance no matter how bad it was

definitely has custom bandages embroidered with random stuff just for you

you saw him putting on gloves and stuff although your wound was really mild

“tengen- babe, there’s no need for all this,” you sighed in embarrassment; your boyfriend would go out of his ways just to treat a mild scratch

“nuh uh, i aint letting you pass with this wound. it could be infected, who knows?” he cocked his eyebrow as he placed a not-so-modest looking bandage on your wound

“aight, i really hope that helps, darling! want me to bring you some munchies?” he chuckled as he packed back up the amenities

“there’s really no need for that, babe. you’ve done more than enough,” you smiled, softly caressing his cheek

obviously he couldn’t care less about your response as he brought you snacks and then cuddled the night away

Shinobu

DEFINITELY would come up with an antidote just to cure your injury

“darling, we need you back on the ground as soon as possible. all your mentees are worried for you, and i can't bear seeing you in a state like this, okay?”

in this case, your injuries were quite bad and she had to put you on an iv drip

after she was done tending to your wounds, she placed a soft kiss on your cheek

“get well soon, honey,” she smiled as she rubbed her thumb on your fingers

“thank you, love. i’ll definitely recover fast thanks to you,” you chuckled weakly, squeezing her hand and never letting go

[princessamericachavez]

Even before the episode, while rewatching old seasons, I was just struck by how big an impact Buck’s had on Eddie’s life. 

Like, please, picture this: 

You are Eddie Diaz, ok? An army vet who quite literally just went through an extremely traumatic experience, immediately got left by your wife and in a desperate move to find happiness for you and your son you move across the country to start a new life. 

You are the new guy at work and this man about your age really has it out for you. That’s fine by you. You’ve put up with enough bullshit in the army, you are just here to do your work, it’s harder than that to get under your skin. Plus, this guy seems okay, aside from all the dick measuring, and you’re sure he’ll tire himself out if you just don’t play along. Then, oh surprise, after a single shift you give the guy one compliment and he folds completely, before you know it he’s decided you two are friends. Fine, good. You miss the army’s camaraderie. This will probably be just like that. 

Few weeks in, Christopher comes up. You hesitate because you don’t like talking about your kid with strangers, but you are worried about him being out there alone during the earthquake and there’s really no way to avoid the subject forever. You’re already dreading the pity looks from people who don’t understand this kid is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Instead, you get a wide smile, “he’s super adorable, I love kids”. In retrospect, you should’ve expected it. What you don’t expect is the way Buck spends the entirety of the shift reassuring you that Chris is alright, even when you’re pretty sure you’ve done nothing to betray your worry (you know better than to panic, it does nothing to help), but Buck seems to notice anyway and keeps sprouting curiosities to reassure you. He even drives you across the torn up town at a reckless speed to make sure you can reach your son as soon as possible. 

Few weeks later, abuela has an accident. Buck drives you to the hospital, even though you could’ve taken a cab to the firehouse to pick up your truck, and goes all the way in with you. He’s a good friend like that. Turns out, he’s a very good friend, because he catches you by surprise calling ahead to let the Cap know you need help with Chris and arranges a whole day of him hanging out with the 118. You didn’t ask for it, and he doesn’t expect so much as a ‘thank you’. 

Next night, he makes a big deal of introducing you to a woman and you are already dreading, once again, the reveal moment when you have to explain that thank you very much but you are still married and really your only priority right now is your son and- wait, that woman is the perfect caretaker that might or might not be the solution you’ve been desperately searching for to get your and your son’s life together.

This guy you just met a few weeks ago has given you friendship, reassurance, company, thoughtful help without you ever asking (you’ve never been good at asking for it) and he’s just sitting there smiling proudly while he helps you possibly assure your kids future.

All of this... it happens in the first FOUR episodes of s2 after Eddie is introduced. No wonder he’s in love ride or die for Buck. Who wouldn’t be?

In a year, they are inseparable. In two years, Eddie makes him Christopher’s legal guardian in case he dies. In three, Buck saves his life. In four they are basically a family and the person Christopher goes to in a panic. Five years in, Buck is in a coma and Eddie Diaz cannot even look at him, cannot picture a world where he’s dead, cannot envision his life without him. 

[kitskiis]

I think the saddest part about secret life Joel is just how futile all of his actions are in that season. On a surface level i mean stuff like all of his more careful gameplay being cancelled out by a singular failed tnt trap but on a deeper level i specifically mean how that character contrasts with last life Joel. Joel is undoubtedly at his lowest point in the life series in Last Life. He goes down to red in session 2 and spends the majority of the rest of the season alone (and when he does have allies it’s only bc of a shared bloodlust). The red bloodlust completely takes over and this festers for nearly *8 sessions*. Not only that but the one time he is given a chance to restart and go back to yellow his old alliance member goes to red, leaving him alone again, and he is made boogeyman the next session. This, overall, has lasting consequences (he actually wanted to be fairly friendly at the beginning of LL, a stark contrast to how bloodthirsty he was at the beginning of DL or Lim L), and gained him a reputation that has never fully gone away. This is especially bad bc most people agree that LL was the most violent season (despite the lower kill counts in comparison to LimL) and was generally the worst and most traumatizing experience in the games for most people involved. Compare this to secret life, which everyone agrees was definitely the happiest season for Joel (or at least the most normal. His life is a tragedy no matter the season.) he has allies that (for the most part rip mumbo) stick with him until the end, he is friendlier with a larger group of people, and when he initially has to deal with the loss of some of them he has people who can ground him (bc as much as I adore the bad boys, grian was not qualified to do that). He was so hopeful that season, and was generally in a much healthier place mentally. And yet, despite how much he seemed to have grown, those 2 seasons ended so similarly for him it was almost comical. Joel engaged in a fight at the end, watched his ally get killed by scott, and is then forced into a 2v1 against Scott and another player that results in Scott taking his final life and him finishing 5th overall. I was describing both of those seasons here. After everything he did to grow, after all the improvements he had made, everything ended *exactly the same*

Making this about the bad boys for a second (because I’m me) they kinda suffer similar fates. Grian learned in the most tragic way possible that his allies were doomed to fail as long as he was with them no matter what, that this was not something that he could control by simply avoiding killing them himself. Even when he actively tries to save them (“let Tim do it he needs the time” “Joel you can kill me!”) he’ll still lose them in the end. I think this realization is also what made him stop trying to fight it, which resulted in him killing or almost killing his allies from previous seasons immediately afterwards (stabbing scar in the back and that one scene where grian kinda ominously jumps with a sword like he was about to crit and kill bigb after finding out he had 50 seconds left on his timer). It’s sorta like a way of telling the universe “fine. You win”

Similarly Jimmy. Well. I don’t think I need to explain that one. Even when he was given hope that things could be different, that he could break the curse, he died only a few minutes later. I still hold on to the narrative that the watchers only allowed that to happen to give Jimmy false hope that things can be different only to rip the rug out from under him and drive home the point that he is in a losing battle because by the time of secret life Jimmy was one of the only few people who genuinely still believed he had a chance. Obviously this is not something that can fully be a reality until he goes out first next season so if he doesn’t that’s a little awkward but just work with me here

TLDR; here is reason number 672 on why I believe the bad boys are the most doomed motherfuckers on this server and their alliance is a modern tragedy

[enidette]

NICE FOR A SAVIOR carl grimes x male!reader

warnings — reader is negan’s adopted son, this is literally shit because i couldn’t come up with anything for this request i’m sorry </3

carl first noticed you at the lineup. someone his age, looking disgusted and terrified at the acts your gracious leader was doing. he saw the panic in your eyes with every strike, using his curiosity towards you to distract him from the traumatizing events unfolding right before him.

the ptsd from it all, as much as he’d like to deny it, had him forgetting about you. but that day he popped a cap in a few saviors’ asses he saw you again, following negan around. you always walked in silence, your father’s words going through one ear out the other. your focus was more on carl.

“i can’t, i can’t do it.” your dad laughs, “it’s like talking to a birthday present. you gotta take that crap off your face, i wanna see what grandma got me!”

you roll your eyes at his immaturity, giving carl a pitied look. but he’s not even looking at you, his eye glaring at your dad instead. “no.”

“two men!”

“dad,” you give him a dirty look, causing negan to run a hand down his face. carl grimaces at the revelation that you have to deal with negan as your father.

“two men.” his voice gets lower, “punishment. do you really wanna piss me off?”

you sigh, “just do it.” carl’s head turns to you, squinting his eye at you. you mouth a ‘sorry’ at him, causing him to swallow thickly and sigh. he sets his hat on the table in front of him and reaches behind his head to unwrap the bandages.

you lean back in your seat and look out of the window to respect him, hearing your father go off on him. you stand up quickly, surprising both of them. “i’m gonna take him back, i’ll check on what they have going on while i’m at it.”

you walk over to carl and negan sends you both his weird, sinister smile. “you sure? i think our new friend here would really like to see the iron. i mean, that guy’s eye is gonna be seriously fucked. way worse than his.”

you give your dad a fake smile and motion carl to follow you out of the room. he brushes his hair back in front of his face and places his hat over his head to keep it in place. you both walk in silence for a bit, carl only breaking it when you both get in the truck.

“he’ll just… let you go?” his face is turned up in either confusion or disgust, you couldn’t tell. but you wouldn’t blame him if it were either one.

you nod, “i’m his son, he wants me to be all independent and shit.” you motion your head towards him, “probably why he takes such a liking to you. you’re what he wants me to be.” carl doesn’t say anything for a moment. you notice he does a lot of that.

“do you like it here?” he blurts. now it’s your turn to be quiet. you don’t know how to answer that question. it’s shelter, it’s protection, the big bad guy in charge is literally your father.

you shake your head with a laugh, “i would if my father wasn’t so bloodthirsty. he says he only does it when he has to, but like the other night, with your friends… he went too far.” carl turns his head to look out the window when you say that, “should i not have brought that up?”

“it’s fine.” is all he says, adjusting his hair again.

when the two of you enter alexandria there are certainly a few starers. “look, i’m not actually here to do anything. i just felt bad and wanted to take you home.” he fixes his hair again, pulling it so more and more covers his face. “why do you keep doing that?”

he clears his throat, “it doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

you look at him oddly, “your eye?” he nods, you could tell it affected him by the way his cold facade shattered when your dad made fun of it. you shake your head and roll your eyes, “no, why would it? i think it looks cool as hell.”

carl stops walking and turns to you fully, tilting his head and looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“why are you doing that?”

“why?” you echo, turning around as well so you’re face to face.

he squints, “you’re being too nice for a savior.”

“don’t call me that,” you snap. “i’m not like them. i’m only there because i made the mistake of trusting negan.” carl looks down for a bit in thought.

“then come stay here.”

you laugh humorlessly, “so my father can hate your people more? have another reason to destroy what you have going here?”

carl shrugs, “we can protect you.”

you give him a weird smile, running a hand through your hair. “okay, why are you being nice now?”

“at a time like this you should be, to the people who deserve it.”

you nod in agreement, beginning to walk with him again. “you know, i’m starting to like your company carl.” you kick a rock as you walk, “we just met and all, but there aren’t many people who give me a chance.”

carl shrugs like it’s nothing, “maybe i’m starting to like your company too, uh…” carl trails off when he realizes he still doesn’t know your name.

“y/n." carl nods with a smile, leading you to his house.