#i want to pinch his cheeks and put him in my pocket | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafesangelita · 1 month ago

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ when a heated argument between rafe and bitchy!kook!reader leads to the cops knocking at their door when they’re already.. ‘making up’

warnings: toxic!rafe, toxic!reader, nothing about this is romantic, cheating accusations, arguing, lots of yelling, physical violence, angst, lots of throwing and breaking things, banter (?), making up, the cops show up, unprotected sex, rafe gets slapped and choked during sex too..

a/n: this has been in the vault for a while now lolll. huge thanks to my bb @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea <3

wc: 2.8k

“you’re acting fucking crazy right now!” you walked through the front door, rafe following closely behind as you slipped your heels off. “i’m acting crazy?” you spun around, rafe eyeing the shoe in your hand. “i hear this bitch talking about how you and her fucked while we were on a break, and you expect me to be calm?” you scoffed, “don’t tell me i’m acting crazy when you haven’t even tried to start explaining to me what the fuck she’s talking about!” you threw your shoe just like rafe suspected you would.

missing him by a few inches, rafe lunged at you, grabbing the other heel out of your hand. “what the fuck did i tell you about throwing shit at me!” you rolled your eyes, shoving him away as you walked past him to the kitchen. “start talking rafe.” your boyfriend pinched the bridge of his nose, his nostrils flaring as you took a water bottle out of the fridge. “she’s obviously lying! why would i go have sex with someone when me and you were still fucking? blocked contacts and all?” you narrowed your eyes at his form.

“i swear to you, i don’t even know who that girl is!” he walked around the kitchen island, a groan rumbling from his throat when you moved away. “then why would she say that? why would she be talking to her friends about it in a pathetic little circle if it wasn’t true?” you shot back. “hello?! so that we could argue exactly how we’re arguing right now. are you really gonna give her the satisfaction by doing what she wants you to do?” he slammed his fist down on the marble slab separating you two.

arching a brow, your gaze flickered to his phone in his pocket. “give me it.” rafe scoffed. “give you what?” he sneered, his heart dropping when you pointed to the cellular device tucked away in his pants. “do you seriously wanna act stupid right now? i said give me your fucking phone.” rafe cursed under his breath, not even wanting to imagine what you’d do if you saw him hesitating. sliding the damned thing across the island, you picked it up and unlocked it. “if you take one step i’m shattering this shit.”

the first thing you did was go to his text messages, scrolling through every thread for any sign of whatever her name is. you didn’t find anything after a few minutes of searching, ‘recently deleted’ messages included. his social medias were next, a lot of them clean for the most part. you bit the inside of your cheek when you opened his photos. golfing selfies with topper, loads of offguards of you at your vanity, even more photos of you and him while you were out running errands.. amongst other things..

despite not finding anything, you noticed rafe still had this worried look on his face. biting your lip, you followed your gut feeling and opened his notes app. sure enough, there at the top was a phone number with the initial ‘s’ next to it. tapping the number, you put it on speaker before muting yourself. “who the fuck is ‘s’?” rafe’s eyes widened in realization. “don’t-” he stepped forward, making you raise a finger. the phone rung twice before a sultry voice picked up. “hey, handsome, i was waiting for you to call me..”

eyes flickering over to his, you smiled in disbelief. “rafe? hello?” you hung up, your heart beating in your ears as white hot anger blinded your vision. “i can explain that!” he knew to keep his distance from you, your fingers clutching his phone even tighter. “i don’t want to hear shit. you’re a liar, rafe. you always have been.” now you were calm, and to rafe that was worse. what made you so angry wasn’t the fact that he slept with someone else, but acting like you were the crazy one and flipping all of tonight’s arguments on you.

rafe still continued talking. “we didn’t have sex! i never even called her or anything! did you not hear her say she was waiting for me to call?!” you turned, your eyes burning into his skull. “it’s the principle! you still had this bitch’s phone number saved! that’s the fucking problem, idiot!” without thinking, you chucked the phone across the room, shattering a picture frame of you and rafe. following the line of damage, rafe’s jaw clenched. he really liked that picture of you two. “we’re breaking each other’s shit now? bet.”

you rolled your eyes as he stomped up the stairs, a bottle of perfume flying from the railing and into the wall where a hole now resided. “i could always buy a new one, asshole!” you taunted him, “with your credit card, too!” the next thing that came hurling from upstairs was a glass jewelry box where you kept all the jewelry rafe specifically bought for you. that one did in fact hurt a little. you took a breath before he really took the cake with the next item, or items. as if moving in slow motion, you watched as rafe threw over various makeup products over the spiral staircase.

eyeshadow palettes, foundation bottles, tubes of lipgloss and concealer also amongst the mess, all came to a booming crash smack in the center of the foyer. there was glass absolutely everywhere. and you were barefoot, great. you stared at the space around you, tears pricking your eyes at the scene. you and rafe stood in silence, thinking about why this continuously keeps happening. you didn’t care if he saw you crying, the sound of your sniffle making his demeanor change. “i’m sorry, baby.”

you shook your head, not wanting to hear anything. “no, you’re not.” your voice shook as you tiptoed to the couch, trying your best not to step on any glass. going inside your shared bedroom, rafe came back out with some shoes for you before making his way downstairs, the glass crunching underneath his feet. “please, i’m begging you to just let me explain all of this.” he plopped down next to you, in which you moved over all the way to the other side. petty.

“me and topper were at the golf course, kickin’ it the way we always do when this bev cart girl came up to us,” you looked over at him, your teary eyes making his stomach churn, “she was telling us that she had just started there and that she lived on the other side of the island and long story short she started flirting with me, okay?” he held his hands up defensively. “i told her that i have a girlfriend and i wasn’t interested by a long shot.” he started, “she got a little irritated and then topper, being the instigating asshole he is, invited her to the party tonight—” you cut him off.

“that still doesn’t explain why her number was in your phone, and why she was talking about you being the ‘best fuck of her life’ while i was sitting right there.” rafe rested his head in his hands for a moment. “can i finish?” you waved him off as you settled back in your corner. “things got awkward so i gave topper my phone before going inside and getting a drink. when i came back out, she had winked at me all weird and topper showed me that he had saved her number in my notes for me to send to him later because his phone was dead. that’s it, i swear.”

you didn’t say anything, a part of you hating yourself for wanting to believe him. “explain to me why she was talking crazy with her friends then.” rafe tapped the side of his head, “because she obviously knew it was you that i’m with!” he shouted, making you glare in his direction. “how would she know me?” you crossed your arms. “y/n.. besides the fact that we were all over each other, who the fuck doesn’t know you?” rafe asked incredulously. fair point. “is that all?” you looked up at him as he scooted closer.

“no.” his tone switched to that gentle lilt, your breathing slowing when he took your hand in his. with the last bit of resolve you had left, you pulled away from him. “well make it good, because i’m on the verge of leaving your ass.” rafe scoffed. “you said that last time..” he shot back, “and the time before that..” you shot him a glare. “and who broke in when i changed the locks?” you reminded him of the time you woke up to a busted door in the middle of the night. “you got me.” he shrugged, in which you looked away.

“whatever.” you felt exhausted, all of tonight’s activities were starting to catch up to you. who knew overthinking, arguing on the way home, breaking stuff, and yelling and crying could make someone so tired? “no— i mean like, you got me.” rafe closed the space between you two, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you still avoided his gaze. “hey,” he thumbed your chin, “there has never been, and never will be, another girl. i’ll die on that hill.” your eyelids fluttered when you felt his fingers creep up on your thigh.

“i know you could see right through me, does it look like i’m lying?” the expression on his face was clear as day. he was telling the truth. you let out a shaky breath, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled you on top of his lap. “oh, baby, we have to do better.” he squeezed you tight, inhaling your scent as his palms ran up and down your back. you sniffled into his neck, pressing a kiss to the skin there. “i’m sorry for breaking your phone.” rafe shushed you, eyeing the broken device in the corner.

“don’t be. i’m the one who broke like half of your shit.” you didn’t even care, mostly because you knew rafe was going to replace everything anyways. you pulled back, cupping his face in your hands. “i love you.” you whispered, those three words making rafe’s heart clench. giving you a small smile, rafe replied with a ‘i love you too,’ followed by ‘give me some sugar..’ of course, you leaned in, rafe’s lips meeting yours halfway as he groaned at the taste of your lipgloss on his tongue. this was just how things went, you two have been here plenty of times before.

his hands snaked down to the globes of your ass, hiking your dress up as he kneaded your flesh between his fingers. your kisses became more feverish, a muffled moan sounding from you when rafe slipped his tongue inside your mouth. he dragged your hips against his clothed erection, both of you hissing at the much needed friction. “how bad do you want it?” rafe panted, nipping the skin of your neck. you almost laughed at his words. “how bad do i want it?” you repeated, “how bad do you want to take it from me?” rafe groaned when you wrapped a hand around his throat, pushing his head back against the couch.

he should’ve known taking the reigns wasn’t going to be that easy. with one of your hands restricing his intake of air, he blinked up at the ceiling, his eyes fluttering shut as you pressed kisses to his chest. you were so sexy like this, he let you grind against him until he couldn’t stand to not be inside of you for another second. you let rafe remove your grip on his neck, a small gasp leaving your lips as he took both of your hands and tucked them behind your back. your head was resting on his shoulder as he pulled himself out of his pants, his fingers moving your underwears to the side before forcing you to sink down onto his length.

you were so slick and ready for him, rafe couldn’t refrain from cursing in your ear. “you’ve been soaked this whole time, huh? fighting turns you on, is that it?” you met his eyes. “mhmm,” you leaned down, “you make me so wet when you’re mad..” rafe grunted, landing a harsh smack to your ass. he knew that already, but hearing you say that while he’s both angry and sexually frustrated just ticked him off even more.

soon, you were the one bouncing on top of him, making him watch in awe as his cock disappeared inside of your greedy cunt. wanting to watch you unravel, he started stroking your clit, making you double over. “you wanna cum? you have to earn that shit.” without a word, you reached up, slapping him across the cheek. the action made him twitch inside of you. “you only cum if i get to.” you kissed him roughly, biting his bottom lip as you pulled away. you were so serious too.

rubbing your clit in harder circles, you nearly screamed when the tip of his cock began pressing that sweet spot inside of you. “fuck—” your thighs began trembling, your orgasm just right there in arms reach when there was a loud bang at the front door. both of you jumped, the fire in your loins melting away into nothing as both of you froze. “what the fuck?” rafe held onto you tighter before the banging continued. “who the fuck is that?” you got up, pulling off of him with a hiss. “outer banks sheriff deputies, open up!” you and rafe looked at each other with wide eyes.

rafe cursed under his breath, adjusting your dress and his pants before stepping in front of you to answer the door. “can i help you?” he peeked out, two other cops standing at his side. “are you the owner of this home?” rafe squeezed your hand, responding to the officer with a ‘yes, sir.’ opening the door a little more, the cop continued to explain why him and his team were there. “we received a few calls reporting a domestic dispute at this address, ‘said that they heard yelling and a lot of ruckus.” you shut your eyes for a moment. you should’ve assumed the whole island was able to hear you and rafe going at each other’s throats.

“uh, no sir, nothing domestic going on around here.” rafe joked. no one laughed. “no? so the four separate calls we received were all lying?” four separate calls? damn, people couldn’t mind their business around here. “well, uh.. yes, me and my girlfriend had a little disagreement but we’re okay now—” immediately, the sheriff demanded to see some kind of identification. taking his id out of the wallet in his pocket, rafe cooperated as the older man had him confirm his information. “so you said you and the woman are ‘good’ now?” officer shoupe, as rafe had learned, asked with concern.

“yes, sir, she’s right here.” before you could protest, rafe dragged you to the front, an awkward smile adorning your lips as you were pretty sure they could see the smudged lipgloss all over your mouth. “hello, sweetheart. can you confirm that you are safe and in not any immediate danger with this man?” you looked back at rafe, having never been questioned by the police before. “yes, i’m safe,” you answered, “we just had a little fight, but we’re making up now..” one of the female officers cleared her throat awkwardly.

“i see..” shoupe nodded, gaze flickering back at rafe. “well i guess we’ll leave you two alone then. next time, can you please keep your volume low? you two had some people pretty spooked there.” you mumbled a ‘yes, sir.’ before rafe pulled you back inside and shut the door. it was silent for a moment, both of you seemingly looking around at the aftermath of everything. “i can’t believe people called the cops..” you walked over to the kitchen and grabbed the broom. rafe watched with a confused expression as you started sweeping up glass.

“so, uh— we aren’t going to pick up where we left off?” you looked up at him with a look that said ‘seriously?’. “no. how about we ‘pick up where we left off’ after you help me clean all of this up, and replace everything you destroyed?” rafe groaned. he could always count on you to leave him with blue balls. deciding to help you, it wasn’t long before everything was cleaned up, no sign of any earlier events except for the new hole in the wall. after you two showered and settled in bed, rafe held you flush against his chest while he kissed up your back,

“are you sure you don’t want to finish?” rafe sounded pained, like he needed to be inside of you immediately. turning around in his embrace, you pecked his lips before swinging a leg over his hips. “make it fast.” you pretended like you didn’t want the same thing, a smile gracing your lips when you heard rafe mutter a ‘thank god.’ before slipping off of your nightgown.

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swordsandholly · 5 months ago

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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 3: Bubble Tea

“Hey.” Kyle murmurs, hand lightly grazing over your shoulders to rest on the back of your neck. His palm feels warm on your skin and you unconsciously lean back into it.

“Hm?” You look up from where you were hunched over your phone - definitely not shopping for a new purse on company time.

“Gonna go pick up lunch f’the shop. Want t’ come with? I don’t think I can carry it all myself.” He asks. His eyes are always so soft when he looks at you. Relaxed and bright with that constant slight quirk in the corners of his lips.

“Oh! Yeah, sounds good.” You grin, standing quickly and grabbing your wallet out of your purse to shove into your back pocket. Might as well get something for yourself if you’re going out. “Where are we heading?”

“That poke place a couple blocks up.” Kyle nods in the intended direction.

You follow him out of the shop. The weather has begun to warm more. Still cool enough for long sleeves but the sun feels nice on your face as you trot up the street, speed walking to keep up with Kyle and his accursed long legs.

“Switch with me.” Kyle murmurs, hand flattening on your lower back as he steps to the road side of the sidewalk.

You snort, cheeks warming when his hand remains a few beats longer than necessary. “How chivalrous.”

He chuckles. “My grandad always said t’never let a lady walk by the street. Guess it stuck with me.”

As much as you want to tease him about playing into gender roles, you can’t lie and say you don’t like it. That it doesn’t make your heart patter and your stomach flutter. Growing up fat, you never really got the chance to be treated delicately. Femininely. Always expected to be tougher, louder, more masculine. It feels good. Healing, in a way, as stupid as it is.

God, your inner monologue is embarrassing.

The shop is smaller than you expected. Tucked away like many buildings in this downtown with a short, blue awning shading the teal colored door. It’s surprisingly crowded too, people packed in like sardines and filing in and out quickly. The inside is nicely decorated - a few tables off to the side that no one seems to stay at. They more so seem to act as a waiting spot until people get their food and head out. The menu board is shaped like a bright blue, wall-length fish.

“Ladies first.” Kyle grins, opening the door for you. You roll your eyes at him, earning a pinch to your side in return. It’s almost strange how easy things are with him - with all of them. You don’t think you’ve ever been this comfortable around a group of men before. That would probably make you sad if you thought about it for long enough.

Kyle passes you a little clipboard with a stack of papers to customize your poke bowl and a small pen. He begins filling out three for the others, seemingly from memory. You wonder how often they come down here - if it’s their favorite local spot or just convenient. You look over his shoulder, snooping for the others preferences. Apparent Simon likes a lot of spice. Johnny, not so much.

Your eyes widen as you reach the bottom of your menu. “They have boba!”

“You want some?” Kyle grins.

You nod excitedly. Like a kid discovering a new candy. It’s been so long since you got your hands on some bubble tea - if you’d known they had it sooner you would’ve been in here nearly everyday. Then again, maybe it’s good that you didn’t know.

Kyle holds out his hand. You look between it and his face dumbly for a few moments, clutching your order in your hands before putting the pieces together.

“I can get my own!” You insist. “I don’t-“

“Price’s treat, love.” He snags the paper from your hands. “He always pays when we come here.”

“Oh. Okay.” You chew your lip. “I can at least pay for my drink, since it’s extra-“

He just waves you off and marches up to the register. You don’t miss the fact that he pulls out a very shiny credit card. So it’s not Price’s treat. It’s a company treat, eh?

Not that you’re going to complain. Free poke and boba is a dream come true.

Kyle takes your little plastic number, ducking to snag a now freed up table to wait at. They’re tall, causing you to scramble unceremoniously to get up in the heightened chair. You think you see him laughing out of the corner of your eye, but as soon as you face him he’s just sitting with that usual, casual smile of his.

One of the workers brings over your drinks in a little carrier, saying the food will take a minute longer. You’ve never been patient, greedily grabbing your tea and aggressively stabbing through the cover.

“When do you think John’s gonna let you do your first real tattoo?” You ask, kicking your feet under the tall chair.

Kyle shrugs. “He said soon. I think he’s waitin’ for me to’ be less nervous about it. Plus I need to find someone to do it on-“

“You can do it on me.” You blurt without thinking.

He eyes you. “Really?”

You nod excitedly. “I really like your work - at least what I’ve seen of it. It doesn’t have to be anything big. I’m perfectly happy with one your black-only flashes. That way you can start small.”

“I don’t know…”

“Plus, John says I sit real good. I’m not gonna wriggle and fuck you up.” You chew your straw absentmindedly.

“And what do you get out of this?” Kyle cocks and eyebrow, that slight, constant smirk only growing across his face.

You tap your chin. “Bragging rights when you get famous someday. I got the first official Garrick tattoo ever!”

A surprised laugh forces it’s way out of him, sending him into a coughing fit around the drink he was sipping. “Don’t think I’m gonna be that good, love.”

You reach out, resting your hand over his as a strange wave of seriousness overtakes you. “I don’t think John would take you on as an apprentice if he didn’t think so. Plus, you should hear how much he brags about you. It’s almost insufferable.”

There’s something in his eyes as he gives you another once over. It’s slower this time, dragging up your arm and across your features and back down your other arm, coming to an end where your hand lays over his. Kyle turns his hand upward, brushing his two middle fingers over your pulse point. It steals your breath, strangely enough. He hold your hand so gently, barely cupping it in his.

You wish you could tell what he’s thinking. For all Kyle’s honest and kind nature, he’s hard to read. That perma-smirk hides a lot more than you think you or anyone else realizes.

“Alright. I’ll talk t’John about it.” He murmurs, withdrawing his hand.

“Yah. You better.” You grin, leaning back in your seat just as the food comes out.

#poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #cod #gaz x reader #tattoo au #call of duty #cod x reader #plus size reader #fat reader #fem reader #captain john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader

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yuwuta · 11 months ago

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CAN YOU FEEL MY HEART BURNING, CAN YOU FEEL ALL MY GOOD LOVING — YUUJI ITADORI

cw: mentioned sex, friends to lovers, yuuji greatest boy

The first time that Yuuji asks you out, you reject him. It’s not a matter of not liking him or liking him (even though you do like him, a lot)—it’s a matter of maintaining your friendship, about weighing risk versus reward, and about pushing your personal feelings aside for what’s best for everybody.

Yuuji doesn’t listen. To him, your rejection was just confirmation about what he already knew about you—that you had a tendency to run away or avoid things you didn’t want to confront, but only when you were really, truly scared.

So, he does what he does best; he takes it to the next level. Despite being rejected, he holds your hand, and pulls you close, gives you kisses on your cheek, and your neck sometimes, and once you even let him leave a hickey, even though you spew the same mantra of—“You shouldn’t—Yuuji we shouldn’t be doing this”—you let him charm you every time.

Because Yuuji knows that you like him back, and he knows that even though you’re scared to say it, deep down you know that he’s always been yours. Because Yuuji is your best friend, and he knows better than anyone how to punch through the walls you so carefully build up. Because, honestly, you should have learned by now to stop trying to keep him out—he makes his way in no matter how many walls you put up.

It’s how you end up in bed with him only three mere weeks after rejecting his confession. And even though you’ve both been as close as two people can be, Yuuji knows he’s missing one thing from you; one final seal to show you that he’s it, that there’s nothing to be afraid of, and to get you to stop running once and for all.

Which is exactly why when you ask him if he wants to see thew new Spiderman movie after breakfast, he smiles and puts his plan into action.

“Yeah, of course,” Yuuji grins, “If you say that it’s a date.”

Your smile falls halfway, but Yuuji’s only widens as he slips his hands into his pockets. He waits, expectantly, even through your stunned silence, and you finally sigh when he begins to rock on his heels.

“Yuuji, you know that–”

“What I know is that you’ve got to get out of that head of yours sooner than later,” he says, leaning forward to happily invade your space to tap at your forehead, “And that you love me.”

“Yeah, I kind of thought the confession that I only turned you down because I didn’t want to lose you, and the having sex with you last night kinda let you show that.”

“Yes, yes, there was all of that,” Yuuji moves his hands to cup the sides of your head, looks into your widening eyes and grins, “But I’m giving you a way to make it official in that complicated little head of yours. So, go on, ask me out. I promise I won’t say no.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. Yuuji immediately moves his thumbs to stroke at the tail ends of them as you pout, “What do you mean ‘make it official?’ I know—I mean I hope that all our feelings are official.”

“Make it official to you,” Yuuji clarifies, using his right thumb to tap at your temple, “In that beautiful—” he bends forwards to press a kiss to your forehead, “—smart —” another kiss, “—very complicated —” and another, “—head of yours that I love so much. So, like I was saying: ask me out, so that you get your closure even though you don’t think you need it, and you start seeing and learning that I don’t want to do anything with you without romantic intentions.”

Yuuji presses one last kiss before pulling away to show you his glowing smile. Your expression softens through his speech—confusion sinking into surprise and then pure adoration. You’re slightly amazed that Yuuji has deciphered this for you before you could even fathom a justification behind your emotions, but then again, you think, you shouldn’t be; Yuuji has proved, throughout the course of your friendship and his courtship, that you have his undivided attention—that you are the object of his desires, and as such, it’s only natural that he knows the parts of you that you don’t think about.

So, you concede, push your shock and pride aside, and close that embarrassing gaping mouth of yours because this is Yuuji and for all the shit you’ve put him through, the least you could do is ask him out.

“Okay. Will you go to the movies with me?”

Except when screws up his face and purses his lip in dissatisfaction, you wonder if you should put him through the wringer yourself.

Yuuji’s grip on your head tightens ever so slightly, not enough to be uncomfortable, just enough for him to manually shake your head to mirror his own, “You have to make it clearer that you’re asking me out. We go to the movies all the time, I love movies—”

“Yeah, exactly,” you frown, reaching your right hand to grab at Yuuji’s wrist to still your shaking head, “I’m asking you to do something I know you love.”

“Ah, but you see how that’s confusing to me,” Yuuji quips, “I am but your oblivious friend—you have to let me know that you want me to be there with you because you like me, otherwise I might not know for the next twenty-something years, and history will repeat itself and—ow!”

“I get it, you asshole,” you bite. Yuuji gives you a shallow shrug, and a crooked smile, that you, begrudgingly, find endearing. So much so that you groan and let your head fall forward until your forehead is pressed against Yuuji’s chest. You can hear his laughter; feel the way his palms immediately latch to your back to rub shallow circles. “This is stupid. I can’t believe I like you and you’re making me do all this for some three-hour movie.”

“Oh, wrong L-word, try again.”

“Even worse. You know I love you and you insist on making me do this.”

“You must think I’m worth it, or you would have left me hanging a long time ago,” Yuuji gives you another kiss to the crown of your head, before he holds you by the shoulders to urge you to stand up straight, “Now come on, ask me out, sweep me off my feet, m’lady.”

You blink your eyes open slowly, adjusting for the sparkling image of Yuuji standing before you, waiting far too patiently. That awe washes over you again—a wave for the overbearing love you feel for him, another for the incredible soul the boy in front of you is—for how lucky you truly are to have him.

And you are lucky to have Yuuji. To be loved by Yuuji. So, you reach for his hands and wrap yours around them before you look up to face him and ask, “Itadori Yuuji, will you go out with me?”

“Yes, and I’ll do you one better,” he smiles, shakes your hands off so that he can put them on your waist to pull you to his chest, “I’ll be your boyfriend, too.”

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuuta x reader #yuuji fluff #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori x reader #this needs a header or something but i dont have one #oopsies #jujustu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk smau #jjk fake texts

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skeltnwrites · 2 months ago

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The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉

As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most. / masterlist

part one - you find out your work crush is a dad and offer to watch his mischievous little girl so he can get some work done 5.2k

a/n - penelope is a little shit and i love her dearly, general warnings/tags here

── .✦

“Hey, sorry to bother you, Steve. I just had a quick question– but before I forget, there’s this little girl in the lobby knocking stuff over. Do you know if her parents are here?”

“Fuck– sorry. One sec.”

He brushes past you with an urgency that is typical of Steve. As the community outreach coordinator, he’s naturally a busy man. You haven’t known him long– just the couple of months since you became a volunteer for the local rec center– but it’s clear he’s dedicated to his work. Always zipping from one end of the building to the other, juggling class setups, organizing meetings, or hunting down the next thing that needs fixing. He tends to add more to his plate than he can carry, at least according to another staff member, which is why you’ve been assigned to help him.

You strain to match his long strides and nearly take out a trash can when he turns a corner unexpectedly. But you can’t lose him now– someone is always nearby to steal him for paperwork or performance reviews and all you have is a quick question.

The lobby unfortunately looks like a tornado blew through the front doors. Cabinets are thrown open, papers are scattered like leaves across the floor, and a chair has been toppled over. And said tornado has her cheek pressed to the vending machine glass, an arm twisted inside the dispenser box to reach for a loose pack of Skittles. The scene is almost amusing until you remember you’ll likely be the one to clean it up.

“Penelope!” Steve scolds, not loud but stern enough to surprise you. He’s consistently an embodiment of gentleness– always accommodating and rarely assertive. And while he’s still gentle with her, his tone carries a weight and firmness that’s a stark departure from his usual demeanor.

The girl, Penelope, retracts her arm and spins around to face Steve. And if it wasn’t for the shit-eating grin pinned to her face, you might’ve felt bad for getting her in trouble.

Steve’s hands snap to his hips. “I asked you to wait in my office.”

She shrugs, “Need a snack.”

Steve huffs and rakes a hand through his hair– a habit when he’s stressed, which is most of the time it seems. By the end of the day, his hairspray will have been combed out and Steve will argue with the strands that curl over his forehead.

“You can have one after you clean this up and if you stay in my office.”

“Candy?”

“No, no candy. There’s snacks in your lunchbox.” He bends to scoop up a few pamphlets to hand to her. “Or I have pretzels. Do you want that?”

She pinches a page between her nails, weighing her options.

Steve pries tiny fingers off, “Don’t rip those. Put ‘em away please.”

And she listens for maybe the first time ever, it seems, cramming a stack of them back on the shelf.

You gather your own stack of handouts and press them into Steve’s sleeve. He recoils a step, his eyes widening before rapidly shutting in a moment of realization. “Sorry! You had a question- I’m sorry.”

Penelope abandons her organizing to plant herself at Steve’s left like a sidekick– anything to get out of cleaning up. She gazes at you with a familiar pair of almond eyes and then it clicks. Her hair is the same shade of brown and her jaw, though softer, is square shaped like Steve’s. The resemblance is indisputable.

You redirect your stare to answer Steve. “Um, yeah– I just needed to borrow the storage closet key to grab some more chairs.”

“Oh, of course.” He pats the front pocket of his jeans. “Keys are in my office– I hope.”

Steve marches past you once again, a new mission in mind, tugging Penelope by the wrist and toeing a cabinet shut on the way out. Penelope’s poor little legs must be tired if he always walks this fast.

“I don’t want pretzels,” she eventually decides.

“Then you can have what’s in your lunchbox.” He glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re in tow, “This is my daughter, Penelope, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Penelope.” You wave, not that she sees.

A braid sits high on her head, swinging like a horse's tail with each hurried step. Her faded denim overalls ride up slightly, exposing just enough ankle to show off the bubblegum pink Converse on her feet. She’s a cute little thing, button-eyed and puffy-cheeked like a cabbage patch kid.

Steve nudges her with his hip, “Say hi.”

She throws you an impartial glance. “Hi.”

When Steve’s office is in sight, Penelope wriggles away from his hold to sprint down the hall. On her tip-toes, she flicks on the light, letting the door slam in Steve’s face. You catch him rolling his eyes as he stops the door with his foot for you. Penelope is clambering onto his chair like it’s a race and pushing off the desk to spin as soon as she’s seated. Steve steers her out of the way to search the drawers, passing you a set of keys when he finds them.

“Just bring ‘em back, please. Dottie found them in lost and found last week.”

“Thanks, I will,” you promise, eyes falling over Penelope again.

It’s your cue to leave, but your feet remain anchored to the floor. Your mind is buzzing with questions that neither of you have the time to discuss. The rational part of you knows you should exit before you let your curiosity win. Yet, you find yourself lingering in the doorway, stalling just long enough for Steve to lift an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

And before you can rule whether or not it's a good idea, you blurt out, “I can keep an eye on her if you want?”

Penelope peaks over the back of the chair, perched on her knees so she can see.

Steve shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’ve got stuff to do. And Penelope is going to be a better listener for the rest of the day, right?” He ruffles her hair, earning him a glare.

You bite back a smile. It’s a funny thing, seeing that frown and furrowed brows that resemble Steve’s so clearly because you can’t imagine him making that face at anyone ever. It’s cute, even if it’s meant to be mean, but you would never tell her as much.

“I really don’t mind. She could help me tape the flyers up– If she wants something to do?” You direct the last part at Penelope. To a kid, being trapped in their dad’s dusty old office is probably boredom purgatory.

Penelope blinks at you and then Steve for permission.

“You want to?” He asks.

She nods, then adds, “Snack too?”

“Yes, honey.” He sighs, faint but deflated, burdened by the guilt of not feeding her sooner. Steve fishes her backpack out from under his desk. A vivid shade of pink with a Barbie patch sewn to the front. Her tin lunchbox is similarly themed and only harbors a bag of fruit snacks.

“Fruit snacks or pretzels?”

Penelope’s features pinch in a way that says neither but she snatches the fruit snacks anyway. Decidedly dismissed or over the conversation, she hops off the chair and sees herself out.

You can’t help the smile that finds your lips as you turn back to Steve.

He chuckles, “It’s been a day. Bring her back if she doesn’t listen. Good luck.”

Penelope leans against the wall outside, popping a gummy in her mouth lazily.

“We’re gonna make a pitstop at the supply closet and then you can help me with the flyers.”

She doesn’t say anything, but she follows as you start walking, and that’s all you need from her. She’s strangely silent for a kid, especially Steve’s kid. Conversation seems to come easy to him, he likes to talk, which is one of the reasons you still can’t believe you didn’t know he had a child. On your first day as a volunteer, he’d crammed that he was on the swim team in high school, that he's from Indiana, and that he prefers the warmer months all in one conversation– the guy is an open book.

And you’re quiet too because you’re focused on recalling where they put that damned supply closet. The rec center halls all sort of look the same still, bleeding into one jumbled image of wood paneling and old carpet in your mind. The building is practically a maze; constructed in the fifties, it still carries its historic charm—stubborn doors, leaky faucets, and all—issues the city claims they 'can’t afford' to fix.

Penelope must get tired of going in circles because eventually she tugs on your sleeve and points down the opposite hall you were planning on going. When she leads you right up to the door you beam at her. For a second, she forgets to be brooding and smiles back.

“You’re a smart little cookie, Penelope. How’d you know it was here?” You ask, unlocking the door.

She shrugs nonchalantly, “I just know things.”

You laugh loud enough to draw eyes from a nearby meeting and determine Penelope is the funniest kid you’ve ever met.

She holds the door open at your request, munching on her fruit snacks as you maneuver a stack of chairs into the hall. You make it back to the classroom without her directions, not to toot your own horn. She tosses her empty wrapper in the trash as you unstack the chairs.

“Here,” you pass her a roll of tape. “Rip some pieces off for me?”

She nods, ambling over to the wall with you.

“So, Penelope, how old are you?” You ask, pressing a flyer against the wallpaper.

She debates, flipping fingers up and down on her free hand before concluding, “Four.”

“Ohh, very cool. You’re almost ready to go to school with the big kids, huh?”

“Yes, at the big school. I’m in pre-school.”

“Mhmm. Do you like preschool?”

She hums no and strains to tear off a piece.

“Here, like this,” you demonstrate, pulling in the proper direction. She copies you, ripping a neat line. The corners of her lips raise as she views her handiwork.

“You don’t like school?” You ask, peering down.

She hands you the slice of tape. “Only sometimes.”

“Why only sometimes?”

She shrugs and heaves a hefty sigh for such little lungs. She’s too small to be sighing like that, you think, and she definitely acquired it from Steve.

“I only like work sometimes too,” you admit.

Her eyes chase yours– all innocently wide and filled with disbelief. She rips off another square of tape, “Are your friends not nice?”

You consider her question, answering truthfully, “Well, maybe sometimes, I guess.”

“Meg was not a kind friend today.” Her tone is hilariously chastizing for a child. Kids are just like mini adults sometimes– collecting random phrases and mannerisms like trading cards.

“No? Why’s that?”

“She wouldn’t share. Daddy always says sharing is caring.”

“That’s true. Did you tell your teacher?”

Penelope shakes her head, tilting on her heels.

“Why not?”

“Meg told the teacher on me because I wasn’t being a kind friend either.”

“Oh. Why weren’t you being a kind friend?”

“Because I wanted to play with the dolls too,” she mumbles, upset wavering in her voice. To a child, these seemingly trivial matters really do feel like the end of the world, so you can’t help but empathize, even as you wish your worries were confined to sharing toys.

You crouch in front of Penelope, “We still should be kind, hmm? Even when our friends don’t want to share?”

Penelope’s unconvinced, picking at her nail like the dirt underneath is a more important issue. But you’re at the end of your stack of cardstock and it maybe isn’t your place to have this conversation anyway.

You get her set up at a table with printer paper and a box of crayons from the closet. She dumps them out immediately, spraying rainbow across her paper so she can find the “bestest” colors.

“I can share,” she declares, sliding her extra sheet over to your end of the table.

“That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.” You catch a crayon before it rolls onto the floor. “What should I draw?”

“I’m coloring my family.”

“That’s nice. I think I’ll draw a dinosaur.”

“A dinosaur?” She cocks her head and giggles, bubbly and pure in the way that kids laugh. Your heart aches with happiness. “That’s silly!”

“What? Why’s that silly?”

She cackles like this is the funniest idea anyone’s ever had. “They just are!”

“Hmm. Should I draw a serious dinosaur then?”

“All dinosaurs are silly– Trevor says so.”

“What! Why does he think that?”

Her words fuse into one smear of a sound as she shrugs, “I dunno.”

“Well, my dinosaur is very serious. See?”

She presses into your arm to examine your quick sketch. “That’s not a dinosaur!”

“It is! You can’t tell?”

She nibbles on her lip, smile growing as she shakes her head.

You pull the paper closer, as if a better angle might somehow improve it. “Hmm, I guess it does look a bit like an alien, doesn’t it?”

Penelope giggles and nods enthusiastically before returning to her work. Her crayon moves methodically across the paper, lips pressed together in concentration. After a long spell of silence, she kindly requests, “Can you draw a house?”

“Of course,” you reply, “On my paper or yours?”

“Mine,” she says, her pointer finger tapping the corner of her sheet with emphasis.

The drawing is a riot of color, blending bold strokes of crayon to create two people and an animal. The taller, presumably Steve, is painted with orange and yellow hues– true to the the warmth he represents. Penelope, doused in cooler tones, carries their floppy-eared pet– a bunny or a dog, maybe?

“Wow, Penelope! This is amazing!” You genuinely mean it; despite her young age, her talent shines through in little details like eyelashes and a set of heart-shaped earrings. “Is this you and Daddy?”

“Yes, and Cinderella!” she adds proudly.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” you say, admiring her work. “Is Cinderella your pet?”

She bobs her head animatedly.

“Wow, she looks like a very pretty… animal in your drawing.”

“She is a very pretty cat,” Penelope affirms and you are relieved not to have guessed incorrectly. She stares at you for a long moment. “Is Cinderella family?”

“Well, does she live with you?”

Penelope scrunches her nose and tips her head, “Sort of?”

“She sort of lives with you?”

“Yeah. She lives outside mostly but sometimes I let her inside.” Her pitch fluctuates as she talks, the words lilting in a strange, almost sing-song cadence that kids do.

“Ohh,” you smile. “Do you feed Cinderella?”

“Yes, Daddy buys her food in a can and it’s really stinky!”

Penelope joins you when you laugh. Not because you are but because stinky things are just funny at her age.

“Do you love Cinderella?” You ask.

“Yes– except when she bites me.” She sobers quickly, forehead wrinkling.

“Oh,” you chuckle, “Well, I think she’s family then.”

“I think so too,” she states seriously, swapping a blue crayon for a green.

“What color should the house be?” You claw through the rainbow spread.

“White!”

“Well, the paper’s already white but how ‘bout I outline the house in black so you know where it is?”

“I guess so. There’s two windows and the door is red– Oh, and there are lots of flowers outside.”

You nod, sketching her vision into existence. “Is this your house?”

“Yes, and Daddy’s. And sometimes Cinderella’s.”

“Just you three? Is that your whole family?” Admittedly, it’s a self-indulgent question. You’re curious about Penelope’s mom. And you noticed Steve doesn’t wear a ring, checked multiple times in the last few weeks even. But that doesn’t refute the possibility he might be seeing someone.

“Yes, Daddy and Cinderella is my family. Daddy says families come in all shapes and sizes.”

You’re glowing with a fondness that’s impossible to hide– because everything about her is adorable– her chubby cheeks, her tinkling little laugh, even her attitude, though Steve would probably disagree with the latter. She’s different than Steve in a lot of ways: grumpier and more aloof, but, at her age, it’s cute. And still, she feels like his carbon copy. An echo of everything you’ve come to like about him.

Him being a dad makes perfect sense in retrospect. To have overlooked such an important part of his life seems silly. A tenderness radiates from Steve, the kind only a parent could possess. He’s full of love– too much not to share. He pours lots into his work: late nights at the center, taking on more than he can chew, always with a smile. And the rest? It must go to Penelope.

“Your dad is very right about that.”

She smirks confidently, holding up her artwork, “I’m going to give this to him.”

“I bet he’ll love it so much, Penelope!”

And his dad senses must be tingling at the mention of his name because his face appears in the door’s slim window not even a minute later. His lips curve into a grin as he realizes he’s been caught spying.

The door clicks and Penelope turns. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, baby,” Steve strolls over to the opposite side of the table, “Are you being a good listener?” His attention flicks around the room, searching for any signs of misbehavior.

Penelope shimmies up tall in her seat and nods until he meets her pleased gaze.

Steve must believe the girl because he doesn’t press further, but you praise her anyway, “Very good. Penelope’s been an amazing helper this afternoon.”

“Is that right?” He orbits the table to stand behind her. “What are you drawing, Nell?”

She flips over her paper, clapping the front against the table. “It’s a surprise!”

“Oh, sorry!” He paces back, redirecting his attention to you. “I didn’t see it.”

Penelope twists around to confirm his eyes are elsewhere before proceeding to squeeze in a final set of details– grass blades and sun rays. “Here,” she thrusts the page into his hands. “For you.”

“For me?” His face lights up like a Christmas tree before he’s even seen it. She could hand him a pebble, and he’d treasure it like a gem. And when his eyes do fan across the drawing, he melts.

“This is so lovely!” He coos. “Where did you get all this talent from? This belongs in a museum, Nell!” He keeps his heart from bursting with a steady palm to his chest. And with his free hand, he flashes it at you just long enough to catch a glimpse before he reels it in to study some more. “And you got Cinderella’s stripes too. Wow.”

He squats behind Penelope’s chair, throwing an arm around her middle, “Thank you for this. And thank you for being a good listener. That makes my heart very happy.”

She slumps into his chest, peering up at the reflection of her own features. “Is it time to go?”

His eyes leap to the clock hung on the opposite wall. “Couple more hours, babe.”

Penelope huffs.

“I’m gonna hang this in my office. I love it so so much!” He sows a couple of kisses on her temple, straining to stand with achy knees. “You wanna come hang out with me or stay here?”

She looks at you like you might object. “Here.”

If Steve’s offended, he doesn’t show it. He’s still grinning like the Cheshire cat, high on the parenting win that is receiving willing affection from your child. “That okay?” He asks you.

“Of course. I’ll put her to work,” you reassure.

“Good, keep her busy. It keeps her out of trouble.” He raises the drawing for another look. “I’ll be in my office, doing paperwork, yay.”

You snicker, as he retraces the path he came. “Have fun with that boss!”

Just before the door slams shut, he yells back, equally playful, “I told you to stop calling me that!”

Penelope doodles some more, gifting you a vibrant rendition of the night sky– a collection of stars and circles and swirls. You’re so grateful you tell her it’ll go on your fridge, and it does as soon as you’re home. She sorts through toys and equipment in the gym closet and even holds your dustpan when you sweep. Her role as your helper is taken very seriously.

The two hours pass faster than you expect. Time flies when you're having fun, as Steve would say. All his little phrases and cheesy jokes suddenly make sense in the context of him being a dad.

She takes your hand on the way to Steve’s office, escorting you when you pretend not to know which direction it’s in. It’s as comforting as it is validating; winning the kindness and attention of four-year-olds, especially this one, is difficult. You knock on the wood frame even though the door’s propped open.

Steve peaks up through a rare pair of reading glasses. Round, wireframes that match the golden shade his hair assumes when it catches the light. They highlight his eyes—warm and gentle as a summer breeze. But he swipes them off his nose, folding them with practiced care.

A smile mends his frown as Penelope climbs into his lap. “Hi, sweetheart.”

She wiggles into a comfortable position, nudging his chest until he reclines further to make space. “Hi.”

“Are you having fun?” Steve cradles her shin to keep her from slipping. “What have you been up to?”

“Cleaning.” Her tone is casual, dismissive even, like it’s nothing to fuss over; but her eyes are fixed on him, waiting for a reaction.

Steve gasps, “No way! You were cleaning? I don’t know if I believe it.”

“I was!” Penelope whines, tickled with glee.

“Hmm, is this true?” He arches an eyebrow at you.

You nod, delighted to play along. “It is. Penelope here is excellent at handling a dustpan. She even organized the dodgeballs by color.”

“Really? Because you never-ever want to clean at home.”

“I do!” She squeals, bending backward over the arm of his chair.

“Yeah right.” He blows a raspberry on her belly where her shirt has pinched up.

She shrieks, squirming and kicking her heels into his thigh. Steve’s dad reflexes must clock in because he blocks her knee just before it drives into his cheek. And he takes it as a sign to ease up before someone gets hurt– craning back up and scooping Penelope into a baby cradle against his chest. Her legs are long and lanky, dangling over his arms like uncooked spaghetti.

“Do we need to invite them over every time you make a mess in your room? Will that solve the problem?” He teases, squishing her arms against his shirt so she can’t escape and peppering kisses from temple to temple.

Eventually, Penelope comes to terms that no amount of writhing will succeed against his strength. She slackens in his embrace, surrendering to the terrible thing that is unconditional love.

“Oh, here are your keys!” They rattle against the desk where you drop them.

Steve nods into Penelope's crown, poking her side. “Can you say ‘thank you for hanging out with me?’”

Anticipating another round of tickles, she grins before parroting, “Thank you for hanging out with me.”

“Thank you for helping me clean!”

Her eyes sweep back over to Steve, “Can we go home yet?”

His fingers tap rhythmically on the desk, a small sigh escaping as he glances at the paperwork drowning his workspace. “We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished.” He pecks the top of her head. “Promise.”

She rolls her eyes, moaning, “Daddy, come on it’s taking, like, a million years!”

“A million? Surely not.”

“It is!” She elongates the sound until it’s less word and more noise.

His shoulders droop, tension slipping from his frame as he agrees, “Okay. I’m ready to go too.”

You don’t blame him for giving in so easily, Penelope’s puppy eyes are powerful. Her chunky little hands smoosh his cheeks– molding and kneading like it’s play-doh, “Is that why your face looks so sleepy?”

A hearty laugh bursts from his throat, “Yes, that’s why my face looks so sleepy.” He pats her arms, “Come on. Up.”

Penelope scoots off his knees, gripping his wrist for balance. Steve ducks under the desk for his backpack and shoves the stack of paperwork inside.

“Hey, I meant to ask you, is the new schedule working okay for you?” He asks you, always so thoughtful.

You nod earnestly. “Yeah, actually, I like doing Fridays better I think.”

“Yeah, Fridays are fun. Fitness Friday has been a big hit with the high school's soccer team.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and lifts Penelope’s by the strap.

“Oh, good! Did the new jump ropes come in?” Conversations like this, as mundane as they are, are fleeting– the next interruption always around the corner– so you savor it while you have him.

“Mmmm, not yet. I think they’re coming next week– shipping delays or something.”

You turn to leave but stop in your tracks, attention stolen by Penelope’s drawing. As promised, it’s hung up– a few pieces of scotch tape secure it to the wall across from his desk.

“I’m gonna get a frame for it,” Steve passes you with a toothy smile, flicking off the light.

Penelope chimes in before you can respond, “Can I play jump rope?”

“I don't know if you know how, babe. I can teach you.”

“I can! I did at school!”

“You did? I didn’t know that.” Steve waves to a passing coworker. “Maybe we’ll buy one for home too then.”

Penelope nods, hopping the last stretch to the front door.

“Any fun plans this weekend?” Steve asks you outside, bumping the back of Penelope’s hand until she takes his. The parking lot is almost empty at this time of day, but a few stragglers remain inside after hours.

“If you think laundry is fun, then sure.”

“Oh, I know all about that, trust me.” He nods at Penelope, “This one goes through more clothes in a week than I do in a month.”

Steve approaches a BMW, only a few spots over from your car. An older model, but well taken care of. It’s a nice shade of burgundy with a stick-figure family on the back windshield. It feels so him.

You hum a happy sound. “What about you? Any plans?”

“Besides laundry? Well, we’re actually going kayaking at Red Fleet tomorrow,” he unlocks the passenger door, tucking the backpacks in the footwell.

“Oh, fun! Are you excited?” You ask Penelope.

“I’m gonna look for frogs.”

She wrenches the handle a few times before her door flies open. Steve intercepts mid-swing to prevent her from denting the neighboring truck at the expense of his fingers.

“Ow– shit,” he grimaces, shaking his wrist. He visibly swallows any other swears when he sees Penelope gawking, “Nell, I’ve told you to be gentle with the door.”

“You said we can’t say that word,” she points out, climbing into her car seat.

You scrub your mouth, not so inconspicuously erasing your smile.

“I– yes,” he nods, “You’re right. We shouldn’t say that word. I just–”

“Even when we’re frustrated; that’s what you said!”

Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, choking down his several feelings. She’s right, he did say that, to hopefully stop her from swearing at preschool, but the profanity policing is comical coming from a four-year-old. And he can’t be laughing right now– he has parenting to do– but he’s on the verge of breaking when he catches sight of your face.

Steve collects himself as he buckles her in. “Yes, Penelope. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.”

She pats his head, “It’s okay. We all do mistakes.”

Steve softens. The irritation evaporates instantly, replaced by a surge of satisfaction. This is one of those rare moments where he can so clearly recognize the lessons he’s instilled taking shape.

He lets himself chuckle then, “We do. We all make mistakes and that’s okay.”

She nods as he tightens her straps, “Like when I spilled my juice this morning.”

“Exactly.” He triple-checks that all her limbs are safely out of the door’s reach before shutting it.

He faces you, scratching his cheek– rosy and round with joy. “How much you wanna bet she swears at me tomorrow?”

“Hey, I don’t doubt it!” Your elation mirrors his.

“If she can’t find any frogs at the park I can almost guarantee it.”

“Better help her look then.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’d invite you but it’s reservation-based. And I’d be surprised if there’s any spots open still… But we can sneak you in if you really want to go.” It’s meant to be a joke, but something in the way he holds your gaze suggests a level of seriousness.

“No, that’s okay,” you grin. “The pile of laundry on my bed awaits.”

“Well, maybe next time.”

You try not to read into it. Steve’s a friendly guy, he probably invites his coworkers out to things all the time.

You nod, idling at the hood of his beamer.

“I really appreciate you watching her today. You’re a lifesaver, truly,” he shakes his head, peeking at Penelope through the window. “She’s been a handful lately– I mean, I had to pick her up early today because she bit another kid, can you believe that?”

“She’s a kid,” you shrug, “All kids do that at some point.”

“I don’t know,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’m honestly at my witts end. This is her third warning and if she gets kicked out of school— I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“From what I saw today, she’s a really good kid, Steve. I can’t imagine they’d do that.”

“I’ve just been so busy, you know, sometimes I wonder if she acts out because of that– and it’s just me so I can’t–” he pauses, wiping his face, “God– I’m sorry, you’re… I’m just dumping all of this on you when you’re trying to leave.”

“No! It’s okay, I don’t mind, really.”

“It’s– Well, it’s a lot and I,” he’s cut short by Penelope knocking on the glass, impatience strewn across her features.

He throws up his pointer finger to tell her one second. “We can talk next week. You’ll be here Friday?”

“Yep. I will see you then,” you nod, backing up a step so he can cross over to the driver’s side.

“Okay, thanks again,” he says, opening his door.

You wave goodbye, “Of course. Have fun kayaking!”

“You too!” He yells, then mumbles, “Shit.”

“Dad!” Penelope’s voice scolds.

A warmth simmers in your chest as you walk away– a fizzy feeling that had been bottled up and crammed into a forgotten corner of your body. But as soon as you’re settling into the privacy of your car, it boils over into this rush of giddy exhilaration, electrifying every inch of your skin. Giggles cut through the silence as your smile stretches wider, completely untamable. There’s no stopping this, not when you’re already fantasizing about a next time with Steve.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things #dad steve harrington #coworker steve harrington

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hotchner-edu · 5 months ago

Text

Pickpocket (Drabble) | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: You find something rather interesting in Aaron's pant pocket when you go to do laundry.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings: fluff, sneaky reader

You were fiddling with the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing, a navy quarter zip-up you stole from Aaron eons ago.

Just an hour before, you were getting ready to do the laundry, sorting out the clothes in the laundry basket and making sure the pockets were empty. As you were checking on a pair of Aaron's work pants, your fingers brushed against a compact object that had you freezing on the spot.

The nagging curiosity in your head had you slowly pulling the object out from the pocket, and you nearly dropped his pants to the floor when you saw the black ring box peeking back at you.

Aaron was at work, so you had time to compose yourself and think through what you wanted to do next. You decided not to open the box and to just stuff it back into the pant pocket.

Ultimately, you decided to be oblivious to your findings, even momentarily convincing yourself there wasn't a ring in there but something else.

To be even less conspicuous, you undid all your hard work and stuff all the clothes back into the laundry basket, delaying the wash. You decide to busy yourself by cleaning the house— mopping, vacuuming, dusting, cooking, organizing, then reorganizing.

Aaron unceremoniously arrives home two hours earlier than his usual time when he's not on long trips away, practically pulling the front door off its hinges.

You pad toward him with a frown of concern, watching as he takes off his shoes and tries to hurry down the hall before noticing you.

"Honey..." he says breathlessly, searching your face for something.

Your frown deepens and you instinctively reach toward him. "Aaron? You're home early. Is something wrong?"

His hands find your sides as he pulls you closer. "No, no... just finished early is all." Which you knew to be a bold faced lie because his work was neverending. "How was your day?" He asks carefully.

"Busy. Just cleaned up around the house." You sigh tiredly, omitting your earlier findings. Kissing him softly, you peer at him curiously. "But why are you in such a rush?"

Aaron's shoulders tense a little again. "Do you happen to know where my work pants are?"

"Aaron, they're all identical and you have like six of them." You joke and chuckle, realizing why he was panicking now.

He gives a weak smile and squeezes your waist a little, eyebrows still furrowed in stress. "The ones I wore earlier this week on Tuesday."

You let out a false gasp of realization and sigh. "They're probably in the laundry basket. I was going to do the laundry today, but I completely got swamped with cleaning the house." You lie smoothly, plastering on a disappointed frown for good measure.

Aaron nearly sags in relief as he smiles at you. "Don't worry about it, honey. I just forgot an important business card in the pocket. I'll go put the laundry in the wash right now."

Smiling fondly, you bring him down for a loving kiss. "You're the best. I haven't had dinner yet, so I can warm some up and we can eat together."

He nods and kisses your nose. "Sounds great. I'll only be a moment." He gives your ass a little pinch before he's walking off toward the laundry room.

As you start walking toward the kitchen, he turns around again and beams at you with a boyish grin. "Oh, and honey? I love you."

Yeah, what he doesn't know won't kill him.

And a mere two weeks later, you're a teary-faced mess as he's down on one knee in front you, nervously proclaiming his love for you again and staring up at you in devotion.

You very nearly get whiplash from how quickly you nod, hand clasped over your mouth.

As he sweeps you into his arms after your fervent acceptance to his proposal, you get a glimpse of the glittering rock on your finger as you cup his cheek to kiss him.

Luckily, the ring stayed as a surprise since you never opened the box.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds aaron #criminal minds aaron imagine #aaron hotch imagine

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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 months ago

Text

Where's Your Inhaler

LADS Men saving you from an asthma attack. A slightly irresponsible MC w/ asthma. [Requested by: mrsdumbass]

Zayne

All the smoke from the explosions in Linkon were not good for your lungs. Zayne wanted you to stay inside, but you insisted on a picnic in the park because the weather was nice. You were having a small coughing fit due to the air quality still not being good yet. Your coughs were sounding squeaky indicating your asthma flaring up.

Zayne: Have you been taking your daily inhaler? MC: Kind of.... Zayne: What do you mean "kind of" MC: I may *cough* have missed a few days Zayne: You know ... that's not how a daily inhaler works

Before you could respond you had another coughing fit and Zayne grabbed your hand pinching your fingertip and just as he speculated there was no blood flow. He quickly reached in his pocket grabbing one of your rescue inhalers. He shook it well before popping the cap off, gripping you by the back of you neck and making you take a long puff. He took a deep breath with you and exhaled with you; he gave you one more puff just for good measure. He would pop the cap back on and proceed to rub your back, watching the color come back to your lips.

Zayne: You need to take your daily inhaler MC: I didn't know you had one of my rescue inhalers Zayne: You have a daily inhaler and two rescue inhalers where is the other MC: ..... Zayne: I'm taking you home

Rafayel

You came rushing into Rafayel's studio twenty minutes late because you got held up at work.

MC: I'm .... sorry ..... im late

Rafayel: Exactly twenty-three minutes late

Rafayel was pouting until he saw that you were leaning against the wall wheezing.

Rafayel: Are you ok?

You shook your head fumbling with your bag before dropping it from frantically trying to find your inhaler.

Rafayel: Oh shit ... shit shit shit ... uh which pocket is it in? MC: little .... pocket .... Rafayel: What do I do?

You make a shaking motion with your hand and a gesture of pulling the cap off. He did exactly that and then handed it to you where you took a long deep breath. Rafayel stood by watching you with frantic eyes as your breathing became normal.

MC: You saved my life Rafayel: I guess we're even now MC: What do you mean? Rafayel: Nothing ... don't scare me like that again

Xavier

As your hunter partner and lover Xavier is always looking out for you during missions and in life. That being said his eyes and ears were finely tuned when it came to you. As you walked back into the Hunters Association after a mission he could hear the slight wheeze in your breathing. Yes he would have one of your rescue inhalers on him at all times.

Xavier: *Shaking inhaler* Open your mouth MC: Wh-MMPH! Xavier: *Shoves the inhaler in your mouth* Deep breath MC: *Takes a deep puff* Xavier: *Puts the inhaler back in his pocket* Hold it 1.....2.....3.....4..... and exhale MC: How did you know? Xavier: I could hear you trying to hide your wheeze MC: I just don't want people to think I can't do the job because of my asthma Xavier: You're the top hunter in the nation trust me they know you can do the job

Sylus

Sylus would be watching you get dressed to go out for dinner. It always gave you butterflies, but he enjoyed watching you enhance your beauty. He sauntered over to you watching you meticulously do your edges. He leaned down giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.

Sylus: You're wheezing sweetie MC: How can you even hear it? Sylus: I have good ears

Sylus reaches into your bag grabbing your inhaler and slides it into your hand

Sylus: Take a good puff before we leave MC: You're so bossy

Sylus would watch you closely as you took a good puff from your inhaler and continue to watch you until your breathing was normal.

Sylus: Feel better? MC: You worry too much I would've been fine Sylus: I will always care about your wellbeing Princess

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads rafayel #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads sylus #lnds rafayel #lnds zayne #lnds xavier #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #love and deep space #nikaaaaimagine

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hitomisuzuya · 2 months ago

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HI SUZUU! Hope you’re doing well :3 Could we have a Soft!Dom Scara with a reader after a really tiring day? Where he would stuff reader with so much cum her stomach was practically bulging :3 With overstimulation and bondage if you please 🙏 Hope I made sense and HAVE A NICE DAYY

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Bondage. Overstimulation. Multiple creampie. Degrading praise. Soft!Dom Scaramouche.

It made perfect sense ❤️

Delicate, tied up, and helpless. That was how Scaramouche liked you best, especially when he was tired. Tired enough that he thought he would fall asleep if he blinked too long.

You'd been in the same cycle with him for what felt like hours. Even though your wrists were bound above your head, knotted securely to the headboard, he still found a way to hold you down so he could fuck deeper inside of you. Once he reduced you to a whimpering, moaning mess while he pumped you full of cum, he would pull out and finger any cum back inside of you.

Scaramouche scoffed softly hearing you whimper in overstimulation as his fingers skated over your swollen clit. "You just be a good girl. Relax and take what I give you," His thumb circled over your clit, the stimulation sending your thigh quaking as you grinded into his fingers.

You were twice as pliable overstimulated. It delighted him the way you twitch in anticipation of his every touch.

You could tell Scaramouche was tired. You could tell it in the way he grunted and moaned in your ear, his face buried in your neck to try and muffle him as he grinded and rubbed his cock on your puffy pussy. In the way his teeth hastily bit bite marks into your neck. "Good girl," His tongue flicked over the shell of your ear, "Be nice and still," He groaned as he pushed his cock back inside of you, "A perfect, pliable slut," He gently applied extra pressure on a blossoming bite mark to remind you of your place, bottoming out with a muffled groan into your neck.

You writhed a little from the dull ache of overstimulation, your hips jerking up into his as his cock nudged your sweet spot. Being overstimulated, it felt magnified. "I'll be a good girl, I promise," His degrading praise made you blush, and your gummy walls clamp tight on his cock.

Scaramouche's heart fluttered hearing how endearing you sounded. Sitting up, he put a hand on the back of your head, capturing your lips in a dominant kiss of appreciation for your total submission. His cock pulsed from how quick and obedient your mouth was opening for his tongue.

Being as tired as he was, Scaramouche wasn't thinking all that much. He'd tied you up so he wouldn't have to think. Just chase the feeling of filling the pocket of cum in your belly in a little fuller. You weakly hooked a leg over his hip. Even though you were struggling to keep up with his mindless cycle, you were still wanting to take of him.

"Be a good girl, and cream on my cock," There was a hint of softness in his command, his teeth nipping at your lower lip as he pulled away from the kiss. His hand dipped down between your legs and found your clit.

Each pinch and rub made a louder moan or whimper keen from your throat. His helping along ushered in your orgasm, your wrists straining in the silk ties as you shook. Scaramouche's body shuddered as your walls squeezed around his cock.

His thrusts turned sloppy for a moment, lost in the dizzying pleasure of his cock pulsing cum for uptenth time inside of you. He let out a soft whimper of his own hearing how sweet you sounded, mewling as you felt every pulse and rub of his cock as he angled it up deep inside of you.

His cum dripped from your hole, a shy blush on your cheeks as you felt the pocket of cum expand a little. He spent the longest time, lazily thrusting into you as he chased his high. He knew he was going to sleep like a rock having bred you this thoroughly.

Pulling out of you, he gently gripped your chin. "One more round, okay?" He felt weaker for you seeing the submissive way you turned your cheek into his hand as you nodded.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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churipu · 10 months ago

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Hello (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) Can I request Itadori, Geto, and Gojo getting "cuteness aggression" over their girlfriends? Like they want to bite her cheeks, pet her hair, suffocate her with cuddles, shower her with kisses, etc.! Thank you so so much, have a wonderful day/night! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

JJK MEN + CUTENESS AGGRESSION ˚✿˖

featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, itadori yuuji x fem!reader

warnings. none, just them being lovesick for you tbh :>

note. hi anon, i'm so sorry for the super late update for your request :( i hope you like it! <33 i'm gonna be continuing the 1k milestone in a bit, just a few more requests 😸

GOJO SATORU. gojo has this habit of nipping on your flesh, then sucking on them gently every time he looks at you — once, he made a bruise (a hickey) on your cheek. the male will not hide the fact that he's so in love with you, he just wants to put you in his pocket and takes care of you.

"baby, you're so cute, i can't help it," he gushes out, fondling your cheeks with his big hands before peppering your face with wet kisses.

with every kiss he plants, he sounds out a loud, "mwah!"

"'toru, stop that," you always try to tell him despite the big smile on your face — along with the soft giggle that escaped your throat every once in a while.

gojo just couldn't help it. something in him, just tells him that he should touch you. the giddy feeling he gets when he sees you just sitting, doing nothing. he always makes his way to you in a flash, just to either hug you tightly, squish your cheeks, even take a nip or two on your flesh.

"'toru, give me one reason why you're chomping my shoulder right now?" the male unhinged his teeth from your clothed shoulder and blinked innocently.

"'cause you're cute. give me a kiss," he then puckered out his lips slightly, swooping down to steal a kiss from your lips, "mmm, more," he spoke to himself — planting his lips to yours multiple more times.

gojo just can't help it, every time he comes over to visit you, or to pick you up for a date. he doesn't care no matter what make up or skin care you have latched on your face, he will nip on your flesh any time he gets to do it (every time).

GETO SUGURU. different than gojo, i feel like he will be more discreet about it in public. his fingers would gently squeeze your plump thighs, or your hips. but when you're both all alone — he will squeeze your cheeks, give you head pats, and just gush over his girlfriend.

"sugu, no more, my hair's a mess," you shooed his hand away from your head before patting down on the disheveled strands.

"'ts okay, you still look pretty," he gently grabbed your hand and put it down, and there his hand went. on your head, patting your hair here and there.

geto has this small habit of just — biting down on your finger when he holds your hand, your index, your thumb, your pinky. he just does it, out of the blue, and when you ask what he's doing, he just spews out about how cute and small your fingers are compared to his.

"sugu, no bite."

"baby, your finger is so small and cute," he chuckled, biting down gently onto your pinky.

"'ts not. it's normal — your fingers are too big," you reply back, pulling your finger out from being sandwiched by his teeth.

no matter how many times you tell him to stop, he does it again and again. and you just let him do whatever he wants.

ITADORI YUUJI. like gojo, he doesn't really care where he is or who's watching — even when he's talking with his friends or even gojo himself. yuuji's hand will find a way to pinch your cheeks, his eyes not even sparring at you. but his hands just maneuvers over to your skin.

like a stress ball. except, yuuji does it gently.

when he sees you, he becomes this extremely happy boy. hugging you tightly and just peppering kisses all over your face, his hands cupping both sides of your cheeks as he does that.

"my pretty girl," he kisses you on the tip of your nose, moving on to your cheeks and then your forehead, before eventually to your lips.

yuuji gets so giddy when he sees you wearing either lip gloss or lip stick, he turns into this fanboy and can't help but to give you a kiss or two on the lips — smearing his own with shades of red, pink, or glossy oil.

"is this a new shade, baby?" he asks, pointing at his lips — which had tints of dark pink.

you nodded, "it looks good on you."

"it looks better on you," he planted another kiss on your lips, "pretty," he glees out, biting your chin gently.

when he sees you in a new make up or outfit, he just gets so giddy at how adorable you look. he just has to praise you, hug you, kiss you, anything really as long as it's you.

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eomayas · 6 months ago

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be alright • kmg

pairing: non-idol!mingyu x gn!reader, established relationship

genre: angst & fluff

synopsis: reader has a hard time asking for and accepting help, and that’s all mingyu wants to do

warnings: reader uses a purse, hyper-independent reader, arguments, reader is mean to mingyu but it’s resolved, healthy communication, mention of reader wearing women’s clothing

a/n: got inspo from SATC where carries computer breaks lol. i love making my reader unconventional because its not super common in fics!

“let me hold something,” mingyu says, reaching for the bag in your hand, but you jerk it away from him as you fumble with the keys.

“i got it,” you say, balancing your phone, purse, and keys in one hand while not dropping the shopping bags in the other. mingyu sighs quietly behind you, just as you shove the key into the lock with success, and open your your apartment. “see.”

mingyu chuckles, but it sounds more like a scoff that you ignore. you drop your items onto your small kitchen table, hands finally free of holding a million things at once. curse tiny purses and the lack of pockets on women’s clothing! “where do you want these?” mingyu asks from your kitchen, holding up some groceries in his hand. the pantry where you keep them is to his left, but there’s a certain order in which you keep things, and you’d rather not explain it at the moment.

“don’t worry about it, i’ll do it,” you say, walking into the kitchen and plucking the items from his hand. you move around mingyu to the cupboard and put your groceries away, just dancing around him until you’ve put everything in their places. “what’s wrong?” you ask mingyu once you’re done. he leans against one of your counters with his arms crossed over his chest and his face pinched.

mingyu opens his mouth, but closes it immediately as if trying to measure his words. he pokes his tongue in the side of his cheek and sweeps his eyes around your kitchen before landing them on you. “i’m just trying to help,” he says, tugging his beanie off and running a hand through his hair, yanking at the roots.

you tilt hour head to the side, confusion littered across your face. “what do you mean?”

mingyu chuckles and shakes his head, lightly pinching the bridge of his nose before sighing, his shoulders rising and dropping hard, like he’s been holding it in for awhile. “you don’t let me help you—with anything, ever. you never ask me for help,” he says.

“because i don’t need it.”

your response is quick, was sitting on the tip of your tongue the moment he opened his mouth for the second time to explain to you. it’s the truth, whether you wanted to spell it out for him, or if he actually wanted to hear it. you can do things on your own, take care of yourself. you don’t need anybody else to do it for you. “you don’t need it? or you don’t want it?” he fires back, making you cock your head back in surprise. is this your first fight?

“both. and if i needed your help, id ask,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. the frown on his face deepening.

“i am just trying to help.”

“and if i needed your help id ask, mingyu!” you don’t mean to shout, but you’re done with the conversation. “if you don’t like it, then…” you shrug and gesture vaguely. you watch his face morph from frustration, into something that makes your heart deflate in your chest.

“then what?” he questions, and all you can do is shrug, swallowing the lump in your throat. “really?” he imitates your shrug and straightens up against the counter, hurt taking over his expressions. “how could you say something like that, y/n?”

your nose starts to burn and your throat feels clogged. you sniff and blink a few times to keep the tears that threaten to fall at bay. “that’s just how i am, mingyu. i don’t know what else you want me to say.”

mingyu drops his hands to his sides and pushes himself off of the counter. “i’ll just… see you later, i guess,” he mutters, snatching his beanie off the counter and pulling it on. you don’t make a move to stop him as he walks down the hall to your door. you stay planted in the kitchen, slumping when you hear your front door close—he doesn’t even do you the favor of slamming it so you could have a reason upset with him later, to give yourself an out for how you’ve talked to him. you expect the tears to come, but they don’t. still, you stay rooted in the kitchen for a few minutes to collect yourself and your thoughts.

surely, you’ve been on you own before. the world isn’t going to end because you’re by yourself.

by the third day of no contact, you start to feel like the world may end—maybe not today, but sometime soon. the lack of random, sweet texts throughout the day make you itch for his attention. it starts to makes you feel bad, and by the fourth day you’ve decided you’ve had enough—of the silence, of yourself. all of it.

sitting in the dark of your car, you dial up his number and press it against your ear. your acrylic nail flies up to your mouth, and you anxiously put it between your teeth as the phone rings, and rings, and—“hello?” mingyus voice ripples through the speaker and fills your heart up with hope.

“hi. are you home? can we talk?” you ask. it sounds quiet on the other side of the phone, and you desperately need to see him, before you lose the one person you’ve probably wanted the most in this lifetime.

mingyu is quiet for awhile before saying. “i am,” he takes a pause, and you hold your breath. “you can come over.” and you let out the breath, a sigh of relief at his voice and his words and the fact that you have a chance of getting your man back.

“okay, ill be over soon.”

you pull up in front of his apartment building ten minutes later. you rush out of the car and bound into the lobby, opting for the stairs because there’s already somebody waiting for the elevator. he only lives on the third floor anyway.

coming to a stop in front of his door, you take a deep breath before raising your fist to deliver three short knocks to the door. you count the seconds in your head before he answers—23–and he’s pulling a shirt over his head as he gestures for you to come inside. it takes everything in you not to rush into him, to beg him to come back to you and for his forgiveness. you’re much more civil than that, thanking him for letting you come over, and standing promptly in the foyer.

mingyu chuckles and shakes his head at you before sighing and dropping his shoulders. “y/n, you don’t have to stand in the hallway like you’ve never been here before,” he slips past you, his hand colliding with the small of your back (definitely on purpose), and walks ahead of you into the living room. with a start, you follow after him into his living room, glancing around for a safe place to sit. you worry that if you’re too close to him, your words won’t come out right and this drive here would be a waste of time.

you opt to keep standing, leaning against the wall adjacent from him. he sits lazily on the couch, his arm draped across the back and his legs outstretched in front of him. he keeps his gaze on you, a silent stand off happening between the two of you. “so…” he trails off, and your stomach roils.

“okay, well, first off—i’m sorry for the other day. i know you just want to help, and i appreciate it. i really do. i’m just not a person who needs it, mingyu. it has nothing to do with you specifically—it’s just how im wired,” you say, blowing out a breath. his lip quirks at your last comment before dropping back to the emotionless expression he was wearing previously. “and i really miss you, you know? i-i really, really fucking miss you.” pressing your hands into your stomach, you swallow the lump in your throat and ignore the burning in the back of your nose.

mingyu shifts on the couch, bringing his hand up to his hair to muss. “i know, but you can’t just… you can’t just tell me to get over it, or leave, y/n. i don’t think you realize how mean that was,” you cringe at his words, feeling even more like shit. if he called you a ‘bitch’ you’d probably hate it less than him calling you mean.

your feet are waking you over to him before you realize it. you sit next to him and grab his hands, grateful that he lets you with no pushback. “i really like you, y/n, and i really care about you, too. i don’t think you’re weak, or incapable, when i offer to help you with things. i just want to make things easier for you if i can. i just want you to let me shoulder some of the weight for you,” mingyu adds, his voice sincere and his eyes saying more than his words did. you gnaw at your bottom lip as you try to blink back pathetic tears. you’re not prone to tears, but with mingyu that’s all you feel like you can do right now.

taking a deep breath, you swallow the lump in your throat and try to keep your voice even. “mingyu, im really sorry. i-im just used to taking care of myself,” you let go of one of his hands to harshly wipe away tears from under your eyes, closing them for a brief moment and blowing out a breath. mingyu doesn’t rush you to get the words out, just sits there quietly and waits for you to be ready. “if i start letting you do things for me, one day you’re not going to be there. i can’t let myself get used to that, and then one day you’re gone.”

“i’m not going anywhere.”

that brings a small smile to your lips. “but if you’re—i don’t know, gone, and i need you but you’re not there, what am i supposed to do? and nothing is guaranteed…” you sigh and hunch your shoulders, staring at his face. he looks like he’s choosing his words carefully, opening his mouth and closing it a few times.

“then we will just figure it out, y/n. don’t focus on what hasn’t happened yet, okay? i’m not going anywhere, especially not soon,” he tugs you towards him by your hands, and you fall into his chest and rest your face in the crook of his neck. “just don’t push me away.” he says, his voice a whisper. you cringe inwardly and press a chaste kiss to his neck, letting you lips linger before hugging yourself into him.

he wraps his strong arms around you and holds you tightly against him. “i’m sorry,” you say into his skin, voice hoarse as silent tears leak out of your eyes. you feel relief, and a sort of sadness for who you almost lost, but mainly just relief. you also feel like the biggest asshole ever, but you know that feeling will pass.

“hey,” mingyu coos softly, pulling his head back to look down at you. you lift your head and he wipes your tears away with his thumb. “we’ll be alright, baby.”

and he’s right. you’re not going to magically relinquish all autonomy to make your relationship work, but you can start accepting help when it’s offered, and start asking when some things feel too big for a single person. that’s what a partnership is, right? taking another persons burden and making it your burden too?

#svt imagines #svt scenarios #mingyu fluff #svt x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #svt x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu soft hours #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt angst #mingyu angst

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itz-amani · 1 year ago

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Sukuna as your boyfriend [Soft Sukuna]

-Honestly, when he is soft it gives me another perspective of him.

-He is probably the type that strokes your hair as he combs it Oh come he just wants to feel your hair.

-Spoils you with many kisses and [kinda] praises ''You know you are cute that I can just poke your eyeballs out'' or ''I could just pinch both of your cheeks until it explodes''

-You two always cuddling together Of course you are the little spoon and he is the big spoon.If you have plushies on your bed he will throw them from the bed and say ''Why would you have those foolish plushies when you have me?'' You just giggled at his ''possesived act'' and ended you being the big spoon.He just love the feeling being spooned sometimes

-Petnames for you such as [Sweetheart ,My Queen , Paradise , my little dreamer , My lovely human.. ]

-Petnames for him such as [ Ryomen , Charming , My King , Mr possesive , sometimes Your Majesty ..]

-Waking up with him doesnt let you leave the bed . Would cuddle tightly in his arms . Even you tried to move an inch he'll raise a brow and open his eye a little bit .He could feel that you are trying to get out from him.

-Would have his wallpaper of you even his profile picture.

-You invite him to listen to your playlist at first he be like ''What kind of ''noise '' that you want me to listen human? he scoffed but once you put your earphones on him...He is in love .

-He is the that put his hand on your pockets if you arent comfortable he put his arms on your shoulder.

-Listens to what you are venting your life, your problems everything

-If he saw you slept on the couch while you are doing your work he is the type that sigh and move your laptop away from you,carries you in a bridal style saying ''Has my paradise been working and ended felt asleep? Such a poor thing..'' ''B-but Ryomen..I have to finished i-it-'' Shh..My Queen , shh..its going to be okay..'

-He sleeps shirtless with pants on ..He places you on the bed bed,tucks you saying ''Sleep tight my little dreamer ..Hope you dream about me''

[end]

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impish-baby · 1 month ago

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Sibling bonding - platonic yandere step brother caregiver x reader - 🩵

"You want to go? Seriously?" Lucas smirks, poking your forehead. "It's rated R, squirt, pretty sure you need your mommy's permission to watch it." He's not even that much older!

Sure, you don't like horror movies, but you want to spend time with him, and it's not like you can suggest seeing something different without being teased. "Hm.." The older boy frowns thoughtfully, finally nodding after a moment. "Yeah, ok, you can come." You blink, surprised he gave in just like that. "Put your shoes on, I'm not waiting forever for you to get ready."

Lucas laughs as you rush, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. "Don't come crying to me when you can't handle it though, I told you it isn't suited for younger audiences." He rolls his eyes when you insist you'll be fine, following you out the door with a smug grin.

Turns out, the movie is horrible. Not in the sense that it's a bad movie, far from it, if you like horror it be amazing. However, any appreciation for how well done it was dwindles away as you're plagued with nightmares. You're constantly tossing and turning, eventually deciding to swallow your pride so you might be able to get some sleep.

"Oh, hey." Lucas opens the door to his room with a smirk, you have the sneaking suspicion he was waiting up for you. "You ok? Don't tell me.." He snickers, reaching out to pinch your cheek, "Aw, did the wittle baby get scared? Should've listened to your big bro, huh?" The older boy is definitely enjoying this way too much as he laughs at your predicament. "You want to sleep in here or something? I dunno.." Lucas hums, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you were enough of a big kid to watch the movie, you should be able to stay in your own bed."

You really can't if you want any chance of having a good night's rest and he knows that.

"Maybe.." The older boy tilts his head, "if you admit that you are my cute little sibling instead of the big kid you try to pretend to be, I'll let you sleep with me."

It's embarrassing, really really embarrassing. Your cheeks flush as you mumble out the phrase, Lucas cupping his ear like he's having a hard time hearing you. "Hm? Speak up." You're tempted to curse him out but refrain from doing so, repeating yourself once more.

"Was that so hard?" He coos, finally allowing you inside his room. "Come on, I'll protect you from any bad dreams."

#platonic yandere #famial yandere #platonic yandere x reader #yandere x reader #yandere age regression #yandere agere #forced age regression #forced agere

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alwaysanundertone · 2 months ago

Text

Day 4: wax play | rosekiller

smut

TW: piv, wax play, multiple orgasms, handcuffs, oral fem receiving

“Hey Gremlin!” You rolled your eyes as Barty made his entrance in your dorm room, Evan trailing behind him.

“You know, I don’t understand why you can’t use some cute nicknames like every other boyfriend”

“Oh, stop complaining, we got you a present” This sparked your attention. You turned on your chair, facing them.

“You’re such a little minx, only paying us attention when we get you presents. Such a spoiled brat”

You stuck your tongue out at Evan. “Stop acting like a little bitch and give me my present, please?” You made puppy eyes at Evan, who handed you the bag.

“You have such an attitude for being so little”

You chose to ignore the blonde guy, reaching inside the bag, and blushing immediately when you saw what it contained, your boyfriends exchanging a devilish smirk.

You held two pairs of pink handcuffs in one hand and a candle in the other, your eyes widened at the sight. “Already loosing your attitude? Thought it would take a little bit more effort” It wasn’t that you were scared about was coming, but more about the fact that you didn’t have a clue about what they had in mind.

“What is the candle for?” They both smirked, Evan reached for your cheek, caressing it softly.

“It’s not a regular candle, baby, it’s a special one. You see, if you were to touch the wax, you’d feel the sting, but you wouldn’t have any medical repercussions, no risk of getting burned or developing infections.”

Suddenly you understood well what was about to come, and the prospect scared you as much as it excited you. The sex between you three had always been rougher than the average vanilla couple, but they didn’t try anything this kinky until now.

“What do you say, baby, do you want to try?” You hummed slightly, still not totally convinced. “If you don’t want to it’s fine, we can do other fun things, you know?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… What if the pain gets overwhelming? Like, how can you tell if I’m just playing the part or if I’m really hurt and I want it to stop?”

Barty took your hand into his, kissing your fingertips. “Love, we were about to say that if we’re trying this, we have to set a safe word” You looked at him confused. “Basically, we’re going to establish a word that you’re going to use only if it gets too much and you want to take a break or stop altogether. You have to choose one and tell us” Now that they were putting it like this, you didn’t have any reason to stop this.

“Okay, I want to try it. I think my safeword could be ‘mango’”

“Perfect love. Now, lay back” You did as you were told, both securing one of your wrists to the bedpost, the fuzzy material tickling the skin of your wrist. Evan placed a soft kiss on your lips, the contact alone making your head spin with need, while Barty started teasing you through your already wet panties.

You saw Evan reaching inside of his pocket for his lighter, his black-coloured thumb lighting it up, the motion somehow sexy. Once the candle was lit, you prepared yourself for the wax, but it didn’t come. Instead, Barty teared apart your panties, sucking your clit gently, making you gasp.

Meanwhile, Evan had started playing with your nipples, pinching them softly, eliciting soft moans from you. It was only when you were already lost in pleasure that you felt the first drop of wax on your flat stomach, you felt your brain short-circuiting, the sharp pain mixed with the intense pleasure made a quite pleasuring combo, you moaned slightly.

“Pass me the candle, Barty” As your pussy was still under attack, Evan poured some drops on the skin of your breasts, making you shiver in both pain and pleasure. You felt Barty’s finger probing your entrance, as he dragged it painfully slow, still sucking in a rapid rhythm your clit.

When Barty curled his finger, caressing your G-spot, you couldn’t help but cum all over his face and fingers. “Already coming for us, pet? You’re being so good for us, such a good girl” You moaned at Barty’s praise. “She tastes so sweet, Evan, come taste her.” And just like that, the two guys were making out just above your head, while they let wax drip in the valley between your breasts, making you whimper slightly.

“How are you feeling, doll?” As you were about to respond, Crouch let some was “accidentally” drip on your mound, making you scream. At this point you couldn’t tell anymore if the sensation was pleasurable or painful. “Words, doll, or we won’t understand”

He kept letting wax drip on your skin, as you force a flebile “good”. Even though you pretended to hate it, you secretly loved when they were acting a little bit sadistic, their faux compassion making you feel helpless. You saw Evan putting on a condom, and after a few seconds he entered you harshly, making you gasp. “Sorry love, you just look so sexy like this.” Barty kept dripping wax on your body, now following a specific pattern you couldn’t make out.

You felt your head being shifted to lay on the blonde’s shoulders, while he picked up a relentless rhythm, his thumb pressing down on your clit, eliciting a few moans from you.

Barty leaned down, kissing your lips softly, then making the wax drip directly on your nipples, his mouth muffling your screams. He tasted like mint and tobacco, the mix always making your head spin.

When he started playing with your nipples you knew you were gone for good. “I’m- Oh my god, Evan, fucking hell” He found that special spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back in your head. “Going to come”

You did, milking his cock, his orgasm following right after yours while Barty released himself all over your tits.

Still blissed out, you felt a flash on your skin, making you open your eyes. You frowned, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at your belly: right on your stomach there was a big “E + B” written in purple was, Barty’s cum covering your breasts right above it.

“Gonna make this my wallpaper AND lockscreen”

“Motherfucker, that was MY idea first”

You decided to not interfere in their bickering, your orgasm lulling you into a deep, peaceful sleep, knowing that they were going to clean you up.

tags: @sxmnc @peterparkerspersonalplaything @riaaavm @iamawkwardandshy @eeviee4 @mysterialee @famouscrusadeluminary @el1smells @rishofkf @mooonyxoxo @happymaeday @yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman @whyshouldihaveanam3 @amazing-bobinsky @barnesandmetal @just-here-for-ff @sammyreid @remussbitch @randomcreator-09

#rosekiller #rosekiller smut #evan rosier #evan rosier x reader #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr imagine #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #smut #kinktober 2024 #barty crouch jr smut

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