#make your own checklist.
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Hey! I just wanted to like. personally thank you for your tags on that post about being 13-15. I’m 20 and I’m just. I don’t know. It’s really nice to know that there’s no rush to get my shit together. You don’t have to post this if you don’t want, but from one stranger to another, thank you. I hope the future is kind to us both.
You are /more/ than welcome Anon.
I know when I was around 17-20, I wish someone would have told me that. I wish someone would have reassured me
"You're not an '''adult''' by 30. In fact, the idea of 'becoming an adult' is a lie. Everyone is a child, slowly figuring things out.
You'll be 25 and be 10 in maturity in some places, and 45 in others. You'll be 19 and be as mature as a 28 year old. 60 with the maturity of a 12 year old.
Age is a lie, maturity is a slow process, and everyone should always be growing. The idea that you become 'a mature adult' at a 'certain age' is a paradox, and is not helpful to you when you're young and scared and figuring yourself out before you can figure your LIFE out.
Your art will get better. Your friend group will get bigger. You'll laugh more, write more, reach out to your role models and realize they're all just people like you. Figuring things out. Fucking up. Being scared. We're all a little bit scared. But we all figure things out despite the fear.
So long as you take things at a healthy pace, you'll be okay. You'll feel like 'it's the end of the world' so many times, and you'll get through them. And it's worth it to stick around."
There's never a rush to get your shit together. Most people don't have their life together, or figured out. We're all just kids with back pain and bills. But, y'know. We get to watch the movies we want and eat the food we like, so. It's not so bad. <3
#vt text#long post#I'm 30 and still figuring things out every few years.#You're a new person every now and then#and that's okay#you'll never have 'everything' figured out#the beauty comes from being content in the present and just. finding joy where you can#and if you cannot find the joy. make it.#and if you cannot make the joy? Survive until you can.#Survive. And work for a better future for yourself.#Even if that means doing something silly like saving up for a bath bomb or that t-shirt you've always wanted.#anyways sorry this went on really long#I'm just. really passionate about letting people younger than me know that it's okay#you won't just. transform into an 'adult' one day#it's a slow and completely indiscernible process#it's a skill.#and you gotta hone it over time#be a kid#And don't buy into the lies of life 'milestones' and 'checklists' like going to college or getting married#make your own checklist.#figure out what makes you happy. It's hard. but so worth it.#anyways this novel has gone on long enough <3
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Any men out there wanna pretend to be my bf to get my parents off my case about marriage? I am so so serious right now.
#my mom gave me a really really lonf lecture and upset me because her and my dad want me to start thinking about settling down ans getting#married. again. cos this comes up all the time. ans I reiterated that i do wanna marry and have kids. i know im 26 years old why do they'#think im also not aware of this??? like i suddenly forgot my own age and have my head in the clouds all the time. and i got so heated cos i#said they only believe in that in theory. in reality neither of them have accepted the idea od my leaving home or the idea of mw being with#a man. and they start freaking out if they even find out i talk to them so to say they want me to get married is so fucking naive#ans when i mentioned this and that they're more than ok w mt brothers talking tp women she said that if i wanted to settle down she could#talk to dad and they could “go about finding someone for me” and I've never been so pissed#i got so upset. why does everyone keep saying this to me. as if anyone my dad knows could ever be a half decent man#and the truth is they don't care if im in a happy marriage they've accepted that i won't be they only care that im gone and saving face in#front of family. that's all. it's always reputation it's always “what will people say?”#not once did love come up. not once did shw even imply that i should marryfor love#or that they hope i love someone and marry them. because they're more happy with the idea of me marrying for the sake of it than#they are at the idea of me finding genuine lovw#im not a fucking broodmare im not here to push out babies for the sake od reputation.#and then i said nor being married isn't the end of the world and she said “it's important that you settle down”#and i said im unwavering in my principles. she can call mw high maintenance like she loves doing but I'm not wavering on the#kind of man i want to be with and when i do marry him i want it to bw genuine. because be loves me and vice versa not because im ticking off#somethin from a damn checklist to appease them. and if being unwavering on my principles means staying unmarried then so be it.#my obligations are to god and myself and that's it#and y'know what??? i am in love with a boy already#and yet they don't care that i wanna be in love at all. no im just a puppet to follow a certain narrative in life live according to evergone#else has and that's it.#im done.#and then she tried to apologise by getting me a slice of cake and that somehow made me feel worse.#i dont want an apology. i want to be heard and actually listened to for once. i want someone to ask what i want. to actually give a shit#and love me cos it's me. not cos im some thing to further an agenda. or some toy or puppet that does your bidding.#is it so much??? to just want to be loved in return? to marry and live according to how i want to?? ans not want anyone to make these#decision's for me?#ruined my whole day.
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HEYYY uh unrelated thought I just had but uh
Would anyone be interested in like. Me making drawing tip esq. things? That wording isn’t exactly getting my point across but basically I want to help explain what can make a drawing look. Off. Yknow?
Like yknow when you’re drawing a character and you look at them and they just seem. Off? And no matter what you can’t pinpoint exactly what it is?
I pretty much just wanna put out a few examples from my own experience that can maybe help anyone else to go “ohh I see it now!” and can maybe help for anytime you draw in the future
#random post#I don’t wanna do like a ‘how to draw! :> (aka how *I* draw)#and I don’t wanna make some overly detailed anatomy or color theory or stylization thing#just simple things to think about when looking at a drawing. kind of a checklist of sorts#something to have in the back of your mind when drawing or sculpting or painting or whatever to help you not sit there going#‘WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG HERE. I CANT *SEE* IT BUT I *KNOW* ITS WRONG!!!’#cus. yknow. I have moments like that LMAO#then I see I pic of my own character and go ‘ohhhh. I fucked up the hair’
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#The Ultimate Guide to Successful Rental Property Investing: A Bloggers Perspective#I recently finished reading The Book on Rental Property Investing by Brandon Turner#and I must say it's a fantastic resource for anyone looking to delve into the world of real estate investing. Turner#an experienced investor and co-host of the BiggerPockets podcast#shares practical advice#strategies#and insights that can help both novice and experienced investors build wealth through rental properties. The book is divided into several#each focusing on a specific aspect of rental property investing. Turner covers a wide range of topics#from the fundamentals of real estate investing to more advanced strategies for growing and managing a rental property portfolio. One of the#you'll find valuable information and actionable tips in this book. One of the key takeaways from The Book on Rental Property Investing is#understand the local rental market#and calculate the potential returns on a property before making a purchase. He also provides practical guidance on negotiating deals#managing properties effectively#and dealing with common challenges that landlords may face. Throughout the book#Turner shares personal anecdotes and real-world examples to illustrate his points#making the content engaging and easy to digest. He also includes helpful visuals#case studies#and checklists that readers can refer to as they navigate their own rental property investments. Whether you're interested in buy-and-hold#house hacking#or Airbnb rentals#there's something in this book for everyone. One of the aspects of The Book on Rental Property Investing that I found particularly valuabl#establishing a budget#and managing personal finances in a responsible manner. By laying the groundwork for financial stability and understanding the basics of in#readers can set themselves up for success in the world of rental property investing. Overall#I highly recommend The Book on Rental Property Investing to anyone who is interested in building wealth through real estate. Brandon Turner#real-world experience#and accessible writing style make this book a must-read for both aspiring and seasoned real estate investors. Whether you're looking to sup#build a retirement nest egg#or achieve financial freedom through rental properties#this book provides the tools and knowledge you need to get started on your investment journey. So
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anyway watch urban rescue ranch and actually listen to what ben christie is saying when he rants about people keeping wild animals as pets
#im so genuine when i say this but bens attitude is right at home with the sanctuary i volunteered at/am still close with#in that caring for wild animals can only be done by certain people#people that can put a suffering animal out of its misery or who can work day and night to make sure every animals needs are met#understanding whats dangerous and whats beneficial and always keeping that checklist in your brain#like for example#our sanctuary houses big cats and madagascar lemurs#those lemurs having evolved on an island separate from big cats and their waste#they are extremely susceptible to toxoplasmosis#so we as staff have to make sure that any shoes we wear in a cats enclosure to clean it#either 1) gets thoroughly bleached before entering the lemur enclosure or 2) are replaced by shoes that never entered a cat enclosure#that and so many other little things regarding health and safety of the animals are burned in my brain#because of how important it is#and yes that sanctuary also received so many big cats that were once pets#so theyre so reliant on humans they can not ever return to the wild#they dont know how to hunt or are disabled to due less than substantial diet/exercise/etc#because normal people. dont know. how to take care of. a wild fucking animal.#and thankfully we specialize with aging and disabled cats#and the cats that arrive there almost always die there naturally#were not a midway point every animal is a resident and is cared for equally until the natural end of their life#anyway tldr#if you own a pet monkey i will eat you.
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*TURN SOUND ON & UP :)
JJK MEN (GOJO, TOJI, CHOSO, GETO, SUKUNA, NANAMI) X READER
case files: doppelgänger curses have been running rampant and causing chaos around tokyo impersonating everyday civilians including sorcerers. jujutsu society has set up veils and your boyfriend has given you strict orders not to lower them to let anyone in the house but him—but how do you know if it’s really even him?
report notes: I love this game! If you haven't played go play a few rounds @ thatsnot-myneighbor[DOT]io (it’s free and all online). —last up: Sukuna!
kinktober 2023-2024 m.list | original teaser
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙽𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝙱𝙾𝚁𝚂 𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂:
🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟷........... THE STRONGEST
alias: 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘, 𝚜.
visitor log: its midday and your clingy-ass boyfriend—gojo satoru—should be hard at work right getting rid of these doppels not knocking at your door—gotta be a fake... right?!
classifications: bimbo!reader (canonverse of otaku!gojo's bunny!reader), yandere-esque Gojo, nipple play, recorded sex, lots of sex toys, dirty talk, panty theft, extreme overstim + slight omorashi.
🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟸........... THE SORCERER KILLER
alias: 𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚘, 𝚝.
visitor log: an extra toji fushiguro should be double the trouble and double the fun but neither likes to share, you know for sure which ones your toji—but do you really even care?
classifications: bratty!reader, brat taming, breeding, baby trapping, hair pulling, spit play + creampies, jealousy, grump!toji, daddy kink
🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟹........... THE CULT LEADER
alias: 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚘, 𝚜.
visitor log: you shouldn't have even been watching the gate bunny, that's much too hard for you! so when you inevitably fuck up, your cult leader boyfriend—geto suguru—has the perfect punishment planned for you and your pretty pussy wait..in front of his entire congregation tho!?
classifications: dumb bimbo!reader, canonverse of nerd!geto's bunny!reader, cult rhetoric, dark themes, sensory deprivation/amaurophilia, punishment, humiliation, shibari, edging, overstim, exhibitionism, toxic jealousy, possessiveness, yandere Suguru, drugged sex, cnc/free-use reader, mentions of orgies/group sex and a bit of forced breeding.
🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟺........... THE SORCERER SALARYMAN
alias: 𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒, 𝚔.
visitor log: your sweet boyfriend, nanami kento, promised he'd come visit you tonight bunny. awe baby, don't cry, you're sure that's actually him at the door but you'll run through your checklist just to make sure, won't you?
classifications: error 404—case report not found (finalizing)
🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟻........... THE BIG BROTHER
alias: 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚘, 𝚌.
visitor log: crazed with quarantine boredom, you can't help but to tease your naive lil' roommate—choso kamo—but you'll know when to stop before it goes too far—or have you already let the real Choso in?
classifications: mommy kink, affectionate cruelty/cuteness aggression, begging, teasing, virgin!choso, creampies, masturbation, panty theft, mentions of menophilia.
🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟼.......... THE KING OF CURSES
alias: 𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚞𝚗𝚊, 𝚛.
visitor log: thinking no curse would be stupid enough to enter his palace, when the king of curses comes home to find you fucking his doppel it's not going to end well for either of you—R.I.P. your pussy sis, any last words?
classifications: error 404—case report not found (finalizing)
𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃𝚂 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙵𝙸𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙲𝙸𝙰𝙻 𝙳.𝙳.𝙳. 𝙰𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙱𝙻𝙺𝙺𝙸𝚉𝚉𝙰𝚃
— 𝙳𝙴𝙿𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙰𝙵𝙵𝙰𝙸𝚁𝚂: 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃 𝙳𝙸𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽.
xoxo 💋
report notes: yo so this was meant to be about 4k total and instead it turned out to be 4k per story so i'm breaking it up (fully completed 3 and making last minute edits on the others, so staggering them out). Consider this a kinktober all on its own lol (still doing stuff left over from last years though). btw—everyone who asked on my official taglist, kinktober or the teaser will still be tagged on each individual story but you can comment below if you haven't asked to be tagged already.
©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
#☾﹒✖☠𝘬𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳#✎ᝰ𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉¢σσкѕ#✎ᝰ𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉¢σσкє∂тнαт#kinktober#toji fushiguro smut#gojo satoru smut#choso kamo smut#sukuna smut#gojo smut#choso x reader#geto suguru smut#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#toji x reader#nanami smut#jjk smut#choso kamo x reader#sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#geto x reader#satoru x reader#nanami x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x you#suguru x reader#choso kamo x you#tnmn#tnmntober#thats not my neighbor
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I came up with this GREAT idea to make completion checklists to keep track of my own ESO characters, and then decided to make checklists for my sibling and parent as well, and I just updated my sibling's characters' checklists after a month of grinding their toons for levels and skyshards and stuff. Because I wasnt able to bring the checklist BINDER with me across the country while visiting my sibling.
So my wrist hurts now, but I also do enjoy the checklists so no pain no gain
#if anyone wants a copy of the checklists for their own purposes then i can literally email you the documents#i know i know email is very strange#but i also have them separated into base game zones and alliance zones#and then basically all the map values you see when opening the map in-game#or maybe i can just export them as PDFs and then upload them as pictures to a post here?#until i figure that out email will have to be the thing so send me a message if you want a copy of the lists#i also have a document of all of the crafting ststions that is designed to be turned into notecards#i can also MAKE you the notecard pile if you want but that would require your physical mailing address which is more awkward
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JAILBREAK. — SUGURU GETO. ☆
synopsis. you hate your job as a part time correctional officer. things change once you have to “babysit” one of the dangerous criminals of the a-block floor, suguru geto. but girl, maybe sleeping with an egotistical cocky ass inmate might have been your biggest mistake yet.
wc. 5.5k
warnings. modern au, fem!reader, pwp, inmate geto, corruption kink, degradation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, geto has a tongue piercing, hair pulling, praise, overstim, reader’s kinda delulu
an. thank uuu @osaemu for beta readin someee!! inmate geto is my new hyperfixation omge
it was as if each shift became longer and longer, your daily occupation, nothing special, nothing fancy, just a correctional officer at some high maintenance prison near the city.
the stench of musk and sweat wafted around you, such a reoccurrence that it was practically normal. it was around midnight, as how most of your shifts were, and as you trod towards the secluded darkened space for only the inmates dangerous to themselves and others, you intake a breath before swiping your key near your hip, preparing to unlock the glass-like metal steel door.
“oh,” you close the door behind you, and that familiar deep voice does something to you.
what…?
you don’t know, but it had such bass in it, you turned to face the inmate, no one other than suguru geto. “…yo,” he mocks, giving you a sly head nod, his eyes scan up and down your body, your uniform and then your own meets his pursed lips. somehow, he managed to find a cigarette. again. “hmpf. they got the newbie watchin' me again? you do know that gun on your hip isn’t a toy, right?”
your eyebrows twitch, and your facial expressions formed into a deadpan as you walked towards him with his daily meal in hand. “yeah and i’m not afraid to use it on you if necessary.”
“ooh. rookie’s got jokes, that’s cute.” he grins.
you murmured, and he only smiles, he knows you didn’t mean that, he pissed you off, even if he wasn’t saying anything exactly. pulling out your staff notepad checklist of where you usually kept track of all the inmates attendance and meals, you uttered, “but anyways…” you blowed, “no one fed you today, suguru. you must be starving.”
“yeah, 'm starvin’ ‘n more ways than you can imagine, princess,” geto hums, and you suddenly freeze once the inmate stands up firm and tall. he’s just so damn big—broad wide shoulders, long slight shaggy dark toned hair, and with a split-second gaze, you look near geto’s orange jumpsuit. the bulge, yeah you spotted that immediately, but his tattoos…
his fucking tattoos.
“can you at least try to behave for a few minutes.” you sighed, and he's already getting on your last nerve. he could tell too…and damn was he was just getting nothing but pure amusement from your sheer irritation.
“eh, depends,” he speaks in a low gruff, his attention was on you and only you, raising his darkened thin arched brows before his lips converge into a witty smirk. “ya gonna feed me my food, babe? oh, you should know. poor inmate like me can’t feed myself when i’m all,” and he pauses while speaking, placing his hands in his lap — giving his wrists a slight shimmy and you hear the metal dance against his skin. “…handcuffed.”
it took everything within you to not smack this arrogant suave bastard, geto flirted with you whatever chance he got, with no shame either. you’re a pretty girl, well mannered, yet never took anyone’s shit, he liked that about you.
your job wasn’t to be taken lightly, it could be considered scary at times with the various inmates you have to deal on a day to day basis, but simply, you were just a girl with an attitude. but he wasn’t fond of brats, especially brats like you.
“…fine,” you mumbled, making your way towards him. he sat on the steel uncomfortable bed that was as usual, never made. geto practically lived in solitary confinement, they don’t call him the suguru geto for a reason. his name was known amongst many, he was feared worldwide. geto wasn’t exactly a good guy, far from it actually.
he’s a criminal and his record was… definitely spine chilling to say the least. “don’t try anything, just open your mouth.”
“hm, alright then.” he happily complies, his demeanor changes just a bit, and he’s more playful. geto opens his mouth just slightly and you spot tiny dimples form near the corners of his lips, and you gradually stick the spoon into his mouth, feeding him whatever food was made for the inmates of the night.
baked mash potatoes, geto stated it was one of his favorites and you just so happened to remember. a smile forms on his lips as you feed him. your eyes darted towards him, and now he’s just staring intimately at you.
that smirk that forever rested against his pink thinly parted lips.
“m-mhm.” he grunts, and your eyes widen just a bit, he was messing with you, and you don’t even realize geto’s got his hand gripped on your waist. stroking a thumb against your belt, you felt the feeling of him rubbing all against the firearm that was strapped tightly on you.
before you could smack his hand, geto swiftly brings you on top of his lap, stealing out a gasp from you at how quick he was with his movements. the silver spoon sticks out his mouth before you take it out, only to return him with an irritated glare.
“what do you think you’re doing?” you uttered, growing quite embarrassed yet trying to maintain a level-head.
“told ya,” he grumbles, swiping a tongue against the excess mash potatoes that remained near his lips. “i’m hungry, babe. that was good, but i’m not satisfied. i need more.”
“inmates in solitary confinement aren’t allowed to have seco—”
“pretty girl, you know what i’m talkin’ about,” geto chuckles, and you shiver a bit from feeling the soft pads of his thumb brush against the belt of your waist again. you were in uniform but this entire position was so dirty. not to mention, it’s not like this place of the prison was exactly secluded. it was, but there was bound to be people were walking by. “i’ve been seein’ the way you stare at me.”
he was just infuriating, but you didn’t know how to reply so…you didn’t. you just sat there on the inmate’s lap, with a quite dumb expression and he’s just eating it up. “geto—”
“it’s just you ‘n me, girl,” he slyly whispers, and his voice drops just a bit as he stops you from speaking. his touch against your waist just gave you more and more goosebumps. all the way up until you felt it. geto infamous boner that hid beneath his jumpsuit. he’s been incarcerated for at least three years now, in and out. he was for sure horny. you could just tell from his seductive gaze. “don’t gotta be shy. was waiting for you to show up if ‘m being honest. you’re not like the rest, y’know?”
that’s when you gasp, realizing his handcuffs were off — he must have took the key from your pocket, because he was just feeling you up now. you let off a surprised noise once you felt geto starting to make you grind against his lap, feeling his hefty bulge.
“sugu-” you mumbled, and he’s just staring at you with a sly grin pressing onto his lips, only before he leans directly up close to your neck, giving a part near your collarbone a soft deep suck.
you whine from feeling the near sharp edges of his teeth lightly dig into your skin, playfully.
“mhm, pretty thing like you isn’t fit to be workin’ here. cutesy little prison guard,” he sung, his warm breath wafts against your skin, “crushin’ on your inmates is real unprofessional, ya know. you could get fired.”
he was right, you could get fired. and perhaps he wasn’t lying about the second part too—you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t find suguru geto the slightest bit of attractive. because he was, he and you both knew it.
“don’t be stupid. i’m not crushing on you,” you denied, yet embarrassingly enough, your eyes widen at feeling geto air your words — his thick stubby fingers, two of them specifically runs down between your legs and you gasp again. “are you…crazy? there could be cameras in here.”
“so.”
“so? you’re trying to get me fired?” you raised your eyebrows, sitting up from his lap, and he’s playing with you entirely. stroking a rough scarred hand down your back. if it was any other inmate, you’d barely give them a second glance.
geto gives you direct eye contact, and he looks so handsome and lean back, but his messy long black strands of bangs nearly covers his eyes, making him appear to be ten times more feared.
“maybe,” then he chuckles. “it’s okay, if it makes ya feel any better. i fantasized about you at least once or twice while being secluded from the other inmates in this hellhole. i prefer you over the other annoying officers who’re always givin’ me shit.”
you were about to speak but suddenly you couldn’t—you realized how close you were to geto, propped up on his lap, propped up on his bulge. were you really throbbing right now? oh you definitely were.
pulsing, itching, aching.
“soooo, when was the last time you got laid?”
this guy.
“excuse me?” you stammer, entirely being taken aback. such smug fell off his tone, he cocked his head a certain way to let you know he was being genuine. in his own way, of course.
geto’s always been one to flirt with you whenever it was your shift to supervise him. his comments were always so bold. he’d purposely pitch his tone a bit low whenever he spoke to you, no one else. perhaps it was the incarcerated felon crushing on you.
“you heard me,” he mutters, giving you a sly glance. he ghosts a few fingers against your waist. you still don’t know why you’re happily sitting on his lap, but you were comfortable to say the least. “with your long hours i pretty much figure you don’t even have time to finger yourself, let alone get laid. poor baby.”
“…just shut up.” you chastised, his soothing warm words, the way he delivered those last two words as a form of mockery. it made you throb, you pinched yourself, feeling yourself grow out to be hot.
“make me, girl.” he faked a pout on his lips, almost as if his speech was purposely dumbing you down, solely from the tone. geto teasingly cocks his head towards the right and a teeny smile stretched against his lips.
and you did.
he was just poking fun at you—you loathed it, the tension between you and geto, his expressions were relaxed and smug like you won’t do anything.
so, what did you do?
you silenced him…with a kiss.
he’s taken aback, you’re taken aback, you don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t stand him talking.
his sly grin, you desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. geto leans back against his bunk. his breath gets caught in his throat with the way you initiated the lustful kiss, parting your mouth open just a bit.
you can feel geto reaching for the firearm near your hip but with quick reflexes you smack his hand, and he chuckles, pulling you closer towards him.
he tasted sweet, with a tang of spice. leaning his head forward, he felt your warm breath shudder against him which makes him let off a low grunt once he feels you start to rock against his lap.
geto didn’t expect for you to trail a finger down his jumpsuit. the soft nearly wrinkled fabric, unbuttoning it and he shudders at how you’re all frisky and bold.
“easy now officer,” he whispers before pulling away, lips pink and glistening with a bit of spit. his voice was a mere rasp and it made you throb. “when i said make me, that’s not what i meant,” and then he smiles, tugging on your work pants. “but you’re something else. take off those pants, i’ve been meaning to show you something.”
geto wanted to show you his tongue, specifically his tongue piercing. not necessarily show you but make you feel it.
when you kissed him, you felt it tickle against you. the tasteless titanium rubbing against your tongue. it left you all hot and bothered.
he had you currently laid flat on your back, an entire needy mess, despite it only being a few minutes. how embarrassing…
it was just the way he curled his tongue, flicking it against your pussy, he’s sloppy. two big hands squeeze and grip against your inner thighs, long strands prickling against your legs as he swirled his tongue against your slit.
“f-fuck,” you’d gasp out, tilting your neck down to stare at geto. he’s already returning your eyes with a coltish glance, puckering his lips briefly to create kissed everywhere between your legs. your hands rummaged through his long silk hair. giving it a firm tug, that earns a low grunt from geto that makes you pulse even more. “tickles, suguru.”
“does it?” he purrs in a cheeky tone, slowly flicking his tongue against your clit—you jounce, a gasp gets caught in your throat at the way the piercing shifts against your folds. the slight coldness of it makes your thighs ache for more “mhm. can’t get enough.”
you pant, tugging and gripping roughly on his hair, geto’s nose deep, his tongue was so greedy. it was just the way he grazed and moved his tongue against your labia. your two sweet flaps, you grew more whiny by the second.
“s-suguru,” you’d squeak, biting down on your lip. you knew how wrong this was, so why did it turn you on even more? “think…think ‘m getting close.”
“yeah yeah, keep your legs open.” he cuts you off, and you stare down at him. he’s so nasty with his tongue, taking a brief second to spit right on your cunt, dragging a thumb between your slit. “do you get wet like this for all your other inmates?”
you stared down at him, feeling yourself grow more and more aroused by the second—your response was just giving him a subtle head shake. “no, just you.”
“just me?” he repeats, lowering his voice and it’s so attractive. “maybe you really are crushin’ on me.”
“shut up..” you hissed. your breathing started to become more and more erratic, your ears rang and you pulsed from how close you were starting to approach towards your orgasm.
geto’s entire chin was polished with your sweet slick—covered in nothing but all of it. such a messy eater, each time you tug on his long strands of hair. his husky pitched groans continued to make you pulse.
his piercing slowly lapped against your cunt, and you gasped at the feeling of him inserting a finger inside slowly.
“ooh, ‘s close isn’t it?” he teases, peppering kisses near your thighs now, nibbling on it playfully with his teeth. “you gonna make a mess for me? slutty prison guard?”
“y-yes.” you squirmed, your hands idly dragging him closer against your pussy. he chuckles, his technique snatching your breath away quite literally. “suguru… gonna come. wanna cum.”
he lays his tongue flat, lapping and lapping against your clit, giving it a long sweet suck to where his mouth starts watering from the taste and you moan. “ask nicer. where’s your manners huh?”
“p-please,” you whined, growing frustrated, so pent up—your walls clenched around the two fingers he now had buried deep into your cunt. you whimper from the mere stimulation, the way he toys with your g-spot with his lengthy slender fingers had you throbbing pathetically. “let me cum please, s-suguru.”
“oh but i don’t know,” the inmate teases, using his free hand to pry open your thighs a bit more. the cute pout that spread across your lips at his words was so adorable, “aw poor baby,” he hums, playfully blowing against your pussy to watch you writhe in pleasure and utter desperation. “you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”
“suguru, please, please..” you whimpered, not even caring how you sounded. your sweet voice reverberated against the walls of the secluded kept room, own words coiling at your throat.
he smiles. “how about this,” and for a terse moment…he stares right at you. with his tongue going over his lips, savoring your taste. “i let you cum, you promise to get me out of here.”
….
help him break out?
all this so you could orgasm….
you swallowed, chest heaving and your legs felt nearly nonexistent. geto looked serious though, brushing a thumb against your sloppy clit. he awaited your answer and you were deep in pondering thought.
you’d for sure get fired, then again you did hate your job.
the fact that you were even contemplating letting an inmate break out just to cum. you just wanted a release so bad, the way his tongue lapped against your pussy, the smooth texture of it flicking back and forth to where your toes curl. you wanted more, and maybe it was a bit concerning that you started to not even care about your profession anymore.
“promise..”
“oh..?” he slyly remarks, for sure you were gonna at least deny or call him crazy, but a straight answer. he was amused—and the needy look on his face was all he needed to see. “hm, it’s a deal then. go ahead ‘n cum, pretty girl.”
your back arched in ecstasy, he’s holding onto your hips departing his fingers from inside you, and just his tongue’s doing the main finish. you shuddered as you felt yourself vibrate and twitch. the build up had you clenching around nothing but air. “f-fuck…”
scorching, your body radiated and carried so much heat around it, your eyes started to roll and roll towards the very depths of your head. once you came, you slump back against the rickety mattress, one hand still firmly maintaining its grip on geto’s hair.
“there there, ‘s okay,” he slyly purrs, making sure to clean you with his tongue. for a split second his eyes close, and geto brings a few kisses against your folds before sitting up to stare down at you. “c’mere.”
you sit up, giving geto a cute needful glance, you craved more and he knew that. you leaned in to kiss him, and he returns it with such filthy passion. geto’s handsy, his slick-smeared lips ghost against yours before he deepens it. a groan gets caught in his throat, and you whine once you feel him lay you down on your back.
he leans up against you and eagerly, you give the orange fabric pants of his jumpsuit a cute tug, a sign for him to take it off.
“such an impatient little thing,” he murmurs right into your mouth. you whined, wanting him to keep kissing you but he keeps breaking away purposely, watching your lips quiver in desire. “how bad do you want me?”
“s-suguru.” you pouted, your hand finding its way towards his bulge. the strain in his pants, all because of you.
“don’t ‘suguru’ me,” he rasps in a mocking tone, his body pressed against yours. and only then did you realize the size difference, how buff and well toned geto was. he was an inmate after all, he always had a consistent workout schedule. geto’s dark eyes stare into yours before he brushes a thumb against your glossed lips. “talk to me nice in that pretty voice of yours. you want me? say it then.”
the disappointed pout you had displayed on your lips remained there as you spoke, only to hear how whiney and desperate you were.
“i want you suguru, please.” you sigh.
“girl…you’re so unprofessional,” he snickers, a swift snicker leaves from his lips before you hear him shuffle in his suit. pulling down his matched set pants, he tugs near the edge and it goes down. “feel how hard you make me, officer.”
and you let out a soft gasp.
geto lightly grabs you by the neck, and you let off a needy moan once he starts to rub your face against his boxers. the very imprint of his bulge. “all your fault. got me throbbin’ for you...”
“suguru,” you whined, a small pout spreading on your lips each second he continued to tease you. “suguru, s-stop teasing me.”
“just jokin’,” you plop down on your chest, the moment he lightly shoves you forward against the plush-cushioned bed frame. it creaked from the movements, quite rickety. “oh wow,” he utters in a low voice — quickly averting his eyes towards your work pants, briefly pulling them down to come full-view of your ass. “do correctional officers just…not wear panties or…?”
you let off a moan, feeling him skim a few fingers against your ass, holding back a noise once he presses the leaky fat tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance.
“i…i forgot.” you whined, mouth watering — you wanted more than anything for him to be inside already. “i was rushing.”
“uh huh,” geto rolls his eyes, and you stared directly at him. the plump fat head of his swiped against your wet folds, a few taps and you were about to go crazy. “ooh. look at you trying to rush me.”
he was such a tease, you could hear the playfulness in his tone. as geto hovered over you, he took a few moments before slowly easing his way inside you.
his jaw clenches, and it’s sexy…
the way his muscles would tense all because of you. you were panting, legs just dumbly sprawled out. maybe it was unprofessional, participating in sexual activities with an inmate—yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. all the built up tension surrounding between the two of you. perhaps it was bound to happen.
“fuck, ‘s warm..” he grunts, and he’s just barely halfway in. you chewed near the inside of your lip, nails clawing down his buff arms and he starts to pant himself. geto was huge. emphasis on huge.
his happy trail was mesmerizing to look at, the way he had slightly black curly hair coating near the lower half of himself. it was well trimmed, yet much visible to see. the more he gently makes his way inside your cunt, you felt every mean inch. the curve geto had—it was hefty, you felt yourself starting to drool.
a single vein throbbed, and you felt it. geto bites his tongue marginally. and once he’s fully in, he gives you a coy expression.
“may i move, officer?” he snickers.
“p-please.” you whimpered.
“okay.” he hums, and the bass to his voice was just enough to get you wet. far wetter than you already were. such smoothness dripped from it, it was a deep pitch that always made your heart flutter and sink.
once he starts up just a single thrust, your body jolts back and you gasp—finding your arms to suddenly grab onto him.
geto chuckles. “dramatic thing, aren’t you.” you moaned, nails continuing to drag down how skin as you’re laid flat against your back. the angle was so deep and thorough, each hit against your pussy had your kind spasming. in an entire frenzy of you will.
he leans in to pepper kisses all over your face, strands of his hair that was out tickled against your skin. by this point, he’s buried deep. your head goes back a bit and…oh, that same curve that he had, it continuously made an appearance.
geto was buried between your legs, hefty sack just thwacking against you. your legs were perfectly bent, shoulder width apart. “f-fuck,” you’d stammer, suddenly clamping all around him. it took a few deep vigorous thrusts, but at this point he’s got your pussy memorizing his lengths size. geto spreads his knees for a more thorough base, his movements were so sloppy you could barely think straight. let alone process anything. “suguru, ‘s right there.”
“right there what?” he teases, leaning in to nibble near the bottom of your lip. the thin fabric of his jumpsuit brushes against your skin—you were just a mess. pulse after pulse, you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was short circuiting. “i can’t hear ya when you mumble, baby.”
“fucking-” you spat, and he chuckles once you’re cut off with a deep kiss. geto vary’s his stance against you, and slides his tongue all throughout your mouth. it’s a rough and passionate kiss—so much so to where, he has you catching his breath. once you pull away, you moan, being brought back to reality from his ruthless smacks he’s making with his dick. “keep…keep hitting me there.”
he hums, giving your bottom lip a slow playful bite again, still ramming his hips against you at such a filthy pace. “is that an order?”
he was so annoying, that two second glance he’d give you—a smirk pressing against his lips, he definitely knew how to get under your skin. “please,” you corrected yourself, nails still running down his back. it pierced against his skin, earning a low husky grunt from him. “keep hitting me in that s-spot, suguru.”
“since ya asked so nicely,” he purrs, sneaking another kiss. this time near the very corner of your mouth. the taste was just glacé, sweet and all. simply divine.
you moaned into his mouth, and as his body weight pressed against yours — you shivered. he’s such a tease, geto starts to lightly ghost your cell keys against your bare tummy. your back arched immediately, the coldness of it just grazing against your skin. “you’re so sensitive.”
his soft, teasing words rang throughout your ears, and as you clung onto him—you felt yourself coming closer and closer. he gripped onto your legs, slightly raising them upward and you moan from the deep deep angled. “o-oh my god.”
geto’s shallow mean strokes had your eyes rolling all the way back….way back to the very depths of your skull. if you weren’t drooling then, you certainly were now.
the moment he sees you pouting from how he cockily starts to slow down—geto pushes a bit more deeper, grinning from your legs now locking around his waist.
moments later though, you both freeze at hearing the sound of footsteps approaching near the solitary steel door.
right when you about to orgasm, you both stare at each other — and it’s another officer. you could tell by the loud echo of the keys dangling against their hips.
“officer, you alright? been in there a while. we’re finishing up roll call then it’s time for the inmates to sleep.”
shit.
you couldn’t stay quiet, that’d be suspicious, and you knew you had to say something. geto chuckles, still buried balls deep inside of you, leaning in to give your neck a long suck. your hands ran through his hair and you bit your lip, trying to muster up what to say.
“your subordinate’s talking to you,” geto teases, and you gasp from how he suddenly pistons his hips, such sloppy ruthless thrusts your breath was merely taken away. “don’t be a rude girl.”
“s-shut up,” you whined, putting a hand in his face and he playfully kisses it. you stop a moan from escaping your lips before you project your voice lightly. “uh, yeah. everything’s good. inmate suguru geto’s asleep. i’m just—just finishing up then i’ll take care of his dishes.”
“alright,” the lower rank replies, and your legs start to shake and jostle against geto. he’s staring at you, just wanting for you to slip up. a few awkward seconds pass before the officer continues to speak. “are we still on for tonight?”
you gulped, and geto raises his brows before whispering into your neck. “…oh, tonight, yeah?”
by all means, you felt so embarrassed, heat rises up to your cheeks as if your entire body wasn’t already burning up from his weight pressing down against you.
you ended up cumming mid-convo, and had to cover your mouth to not be so noisy. you clenched all around geto, just a twitching and spasming mess.
“y-yeah, we are.”
“good, good,” he speaks through the other end of the closed steel door. poor officer, he sounds so ecstatic, a bit of confidence running through his tone. “i’ll see you then, pumpkin.”
geto blurted out laughing and you had to slap a hand against his mouth. the moment the coast is clear and he walks away, you glare and he simpers.
“pumpkin,” he repeats, mimicking your co-workers accent. “i didn’t know you had plans. have me looking like a fool, hmpf.”
“my private life isn’t your busin—” and you get cut off once geto abruptly sits you upright, to where you’re just straddling him. you moan, your cunt still being stuffed full of his thick inches — and for a moment, you felt his vein prod against you.
geto groans, seeing how your pupils were all dilated from your recent release. “yeahhh, it isn’t,” he says, grabbing ahold of your waist. you’re rocking back and forth and he’s so thick that you’re just completely cockdrunk and dizzy. “but ‘m having too much fun with you.”
you gasp once you feel the back of geto’s hand roughly smack your ass again, and again, and again. he loves the recoil — you hiss from the sting as your hips roll and maneuver against his lap. “you’re such a dirty girl. i don’t want you to go on that date. stay with me.”
“y-you can’t be serious.” you muttered, arms thrown over his neck. and for a brief moment, it was almost as if you heard a faint of jealously lingering on his tone. it made you throb, this high and mighty notorious inmate feeling this way…for a nobody like you.
“dead serious, baby,” he utters, and you can sense geto’s close too from the way his jaw tightens. his head tilts back and he bites down on his lip. “that way i won’t be less lonely. talking to the wall ‘n everything.”
oh right, he was in solitary confinement. purposely secluded from the other guards and inmates. geto was considered a danger, yet here you were — stupidly bouncing on his dick.
“but ‘m not so lonely now that you’re here,” he coos against your ear, and you whimper once he drags a hand down between your legs. he gives your pussy a few mean spanks and you whimpered. “fuck, keep moaning in my ear like that ‘n i’m gonna give you so much of my cum.”
“i need it.” you pleaded, tears swelling up in your eyes, you genuinely didn’t know what got over you — your body was so achy, each time he traced his fingers down your body, you whined. you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be filled.
geto groans, and his hefty base kept smacking back against you, your hips jerked as you tightly held onto him, marking up the very inner part of his neck with soft bite marks.
“f-fine,” he grumbles, and his voice gets a bit high, he’s growing out to be sensitive from the pressure building up. he even gets a tad bit whiney himself. the constant skin smacking makes him kiss his teeth, and his head throws back yet again—long pretty hair flowing against his shoulders. “god, you’re so fuckin’ nasty. riding me this g-good.”
you even start to tug on his hair, and that makes him moan even more. not like he minded. it turned him on, needless to say.
once geto came, it was thick, so much that it instantly spilled out of your cunt. you paused your hips, and he silenced his groans by grunting against your neck. he’s shaking just as much as you were — and it came out in velvety ropes, spurting and spurting.
“take it all,” he hisses, gripping onto your waist tightly. you whimper, grinding against him just for a few seconds and he’s for once speechless. “damn, those hips of yours is so deadly, fuck.”
you whined, sitting up and he pulls out of you, watching his own cum spill and drip out. geto brings a thumb towards your clit to smear it all over your pussy, an image that was a something he’d never erase from his mind.
you panted, hitting your back against his bunk while geto leans in to kiss you deeply. you kissed back, dragging your tongue against his, feeling his warm breath fan against yours before he pulls away with a weary expression.
“good girl,” he murmurs, peppering a soft kiss near the side of your mouth. “remember my promise?”
“yeah.” you exhale, trying to catch your breath. your legs felt like jello — head clouded and entirely empty, not a single thought in your mind.
he smiles. “good. because i forgot to tell ya something else,” and you stare at him, a soft confused head tilt, watching him re-adjust his jumpsuit, pulling his boxers and pants part up. “have fun being in solitary by yourself.”
“wait w-what?” you stammer, and reaches the door, your own keys in hand — and you couldn’t have felt anymore stupid. geto chuckles, with a sly shrug. “princess, you were so gullible. letting me take your keys,” and he unlocks the huge latch before grinning. “but hey, don’t feel too bad. you have a date tonight.”
you glare, overwhelmed with emotions before spitting out a, “fuck you.”
“you literally just did,” he wriggles his eyebrows. “don’t worry. i’ll come back for you,” and then he opens the steel door.
yet before slamming it, he gives you a wink and that same sly grin. “nah i’m just kidding, no i won’t. sorry.”
#★vegasbaby.#geto smut#geto x reader#geto x you#suguru geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#getou suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk fic#jjk x you#jjk smut#anime smut#anime x reader#female reader#tw sex#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut
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The Villain Checklist!
Creating a villain is a delicate art, much like crafting a masterpiece. To ensure your antagonist leaps off the page with depth, consider these essential elements for your villain checklist:
Motivation: Every great villain is driven by a potent motivation, one that fuels their actions and sets them on their dark path. Explore their backstory and unearth the core reason behind their villainy. Are they seeking power, revenge, redemption, or something more sinister?
Complexity: Gone are the days of one-dimensional villains twirling mustaches and cackling maniacally. Infuse your antagonist with layers of complexity and nuance. Perhaps they possess redeeming qualities or wrestle with inner conflicts that humanize their actions.
Flaws and Vulnerabilities: Despite their nefarious intentions, villains should be flawed beings with vulnerabilities. These weaknesses not only add depth to their character but also create opportunities for conflict and growth throughout your story.
Backstory: Delve into your villain's past to uncover formative experiences that shaped their present disposition. Trauma, betrayal, or societal pressures can all contribute to their descent into villainy, providing rich narrative fodder for exploration.
Goals and Ambitions: Just as heroes strive for noble objectives, villains pursue their own twisted goals with fervor and determination. Define what your antagonist hopes to achieve and the lengths they're willing to go to attain it, even if it means sacrificing everything in their path.
Antagonistic Traits: From cunning intellect to ruthless brutality, equip your villain with traits that make them a formidable adversary for your protagonist. Consider how their strengths and weaknesses complement each other, creating dynamic conflicts that propel your story forward.
Relationships and Alliances: Villains don't operate in isolation; they forge alliances, manipulate allies, and cultivate relationships to further their agendas. Develop the connections your antagonist shares with other characters, be they loyal minions or reluctant collaborators, to add depth to their character dynamics.
Moral Justification (from their perspective): While their actions may be abhorrent to society, villains often believe they're justified in their pursuits. Explore your antagonist's moral code and the twisted logic that rationalizes their behavior, offering readers insight into their twisted worldview.
Arc of Transformation: Just as protagonists undergo arcs of growth and change, villains should experience their own journey of transformation. Whether it's redemption, downfall, or something altogether unexpected, chart the evolution of your antagonist throughout the narrative.
Memorable Traits: Give your villain distinctive traits or quirks that leave a lasting impression on readers. Whether it's a chilling catchphrase, a distinctive appearance, or a haunting backstory, give your antagonist elements that linger in the minds of your audience long after they've closed the book.
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exile
note: happy december i hope ur all doing well <3 a little something to hold u over until next friday when i start 12 days of reidrumas ok love u
summary: in which you and JJ are the ones held hostage in truth or dare
cw: spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, hurt/comfort, angst, fem!reader, a heated makeout, reader wears a dress and heels, take a shot everytime reader tears up
wc: 3.6k
p.s. i am a glutton for praise if you couldn't tell from any of my fics but i love hearing what y'all think so plsplspls lemme know your thoughts in a comment or drop in my ask box!!!!
You’re not really sure where it went wrong.
When you joined JJ to pursue Casey, it was out of convenience. You both were simply closer to his last location. No one could’ve predicted he’d take you both hostage or make you play a twisted game of truth or dare at gunpoint.
No one could have predicted that Casey would force you and JJ to reveal details that hadn’t seen the light of day. He didn’t even care for those secrets, egging you both on to reveal something that would satisfy his masochistic itch. When he realizes that neither of you would break, he ups the ante by angling the gun to the middle of your head. JJ panics and speaks before she can even process what she said.
Because as you’re staring down the barrel of the gun clocked at your forehead, you realize the bullet isn’t inside the cylinder, it’s in JJ’s next words.
I’ve always loved Spencer.
You look at her mouth agape, blood draining from your face and tears springing to your eyes. She returns your gaze with one full of remorse and pity. To any onlooker, it would seem like a harmless confession. But they didn’t know the times you confided in JJ about your feelings for Spencer, the late nights at the office she’d stay with you giving advice and words of wisdom, when all JJ wanted was for her friend to be happy.
But now, how much of that can you believe to be true?
Casey seems to be satisfied with your reaction as he lowers his gun, with you reacting quickly grabbing your hidden second pistol and gunning him down. The only audible noise left is the heavy breathing of you both, the adrenaline rush starting to fade. JJ says your name remorsefully, but she’s interrupted by the rest of the team and police arriving to the scene.
The next thing you remember is sitting outside on the back of an ambulance rig, blankly staring out at your new reality. JJ loves Spencer.
You couldn’t compete, how could you? She was JJ. and you were, you. You had lost before you even began, you might as well toss the towel now.
It makes hugging Spence for what could be the last time—not to be dramatic—bittersweet. To know that this is an insignificantly normal moment he won’t remember, but one that you’ll play on repeat for the rest of your life.
Spencer holds you close into his chest with his arm smoothing out your back, “Thank god you’re okay, are you hurt?”
You scoff internally. Yes, but not in a way that can be fixed. In a way that you are not privy to yet, but once you are it will rip us to shreds.
“I’m fine, just a few scratches.”
He nods while examining you with his own mental checklist, “Okay, if your head starts hurting or your vision gets blurry you need to tell the EMT.” you nod as he adds on, “I’m gonna go check on JJ, you’ll be okay?”
No, no I won’t. There is no reality that exists where I can be okay anymore.
“I’m good. Go.”
He squeezes your shoulders and with another nod he walks over to where JJ rests on another ambulance rig, her arms instantly opening to welcome Spencer’s warm embrace. His back is facing you and JJ’s face rests over his shoulder, her eyes meeting yours in a look of sadness, grief. You look away before you can read more into it.
Wrapping the foil blanket around you tighter you let your head fall back and stare at the night sky, hoping there was a message out in the stars that would tell you what to do.
Your relationship with Spencer was, on the surface, nothing more than a friendship. He had joined the BAU only a year prior to you and when you came along it was clear from the first second that you two would be inseparable. Small talks in the bullpen quickly turned into mornings spent at the coffee shop, into weekly movie nights debating the superior science fiction franchise, to holding his hand when he needed a friend.
To Spencer, you were his anchor. Through all the trials and tribulations his life had dealt him, he knew he didn’t need to worry so much as long as you were around.
To you, Spencer was all consuming. He was threaded through every neuron and vessel in your body, intricately and impossibly tethered to you that it would take the work of the divine to painfully separate him from you.
Or, one Jennifer Jaraeu.
You don’t even realize tears are falling down your face until the EMT taps your shoulder and asks if anything has started to hurt again. Quickly shaking your head, you unravel yourself from the foil blanket and hand it back to her. You spare one last glance back at Spencer and JJ, eyes immediately zeroing on their joined hands, his thumb gently brushing the top of hers.
Your feet trudge you back to where the team is set up, one look to Emily and she’s already excusing herself from her conversation. She walks over to you phone up to her ear, saying something about you. You’re not really sure, it’s all water noise.
“Anderson will be here in about five minutes to take you home,”
You nod silently, not willing to make eye contact. Emily could sense your turmoil from a mile away, chalk it up to the Pisces moon in her but behind the hard exterior she put up there lay Emily, your empathetic friend who just wanted to hug your shattered pieces back together.
“You’ll be okay?” The second time you’ve been asked, your answer is still unchanged.
No. “Yeah.”
She sighs knowingly. The reason the two of you were such close friends was because of your similar ability to remain emotionally bottled up until it was too late, resulting in an outburst enough to take out armies and yourselves.
Anderson honks the car as he pulls up, alerting you of his arrival. Emily looks from the car back to you, “I should go check on JJ.”
“Woman of the hour, it seems.” you chuckle under your breath.
Emily gives you that look, the conflicted ‘I’m sorry our friend made you feel this way, I still have to check on her.” look.
You brush her off, your casualness hopefully sending the message that the situation isn’t that deep. For her, you think.
The sound of the car unlocking rings through your ear as you hop in the passenger seat. Anderson tries to make small talk with you to no success, settling for the late night 00s radio station as he pulls up to your house, driving off as you bid him goodnight with a wave.
The breeze of your empty apartment greets you as you open the door, the air chillier than you’d expect for the season. You tug your shoes off harshly, placing your keys on the mail table next to the door. Your heart drops as you catch sight of a floral embossed card lying on top of your mail on the table.
Rossi’s wedding.
The one you were told to absolutely prioritize, the one in which JJ had helped you find a dress for, the one where you hoped you’d feel brave enough to tell Spencer how you truly felt.
You sigh deeply knowing you still had to show up and look presentable tomorrow despite being held hostage only 24 hours prior. But, maybe this is how you make a clean break. All this time you’ve been in love with Spencer and nothing has happened, despite all the signs you think you’re giving him. Maybe this is the opportunity to save Spencer from further tension, albeit unknown to him at this point, and let him finally be happy.
You knew about the Redskins game, how excited he was to go with JJ and yet it turned into something he hadn’t anticipated. You were new to the BAU at the time but your heart still ached for him, unable to understand how anyone would pass up on someone so special like Spencer Reid. It seems she’s finally come to her senses.
You take your dead phone out of your pocket to place it on the charger and you head into the bathroom to take a quick shower. The hot water loosens your tense muscles enough to prick tears in the back of your eyes, and you turn off the water before you can get too worked up. Once you’ve dried off you check on your phone on the bedside table seeing it’s turned back on, a flurry of missed texts and calls showing up.
11:14PM - Emily: Get home safe?
You heart the message and reply with a simple ‘Yes.’, scrolling to the next messages.
10:09PM - JJ: Did you get home? 10:10PM - Missed Call from JJ 10:15PM - (2) Missed Calls from JJ 10:24PM - JJ: I’m sorry, please let me explain. 10:25PM - Missed Call from JJ
You consider leaving her on read, not willing to entertain a conversation at this point, but you settle for an ‘It’s fine.’ for the sake of having communicated your safety.
10:13PM - Spence: Hey, where are you? 10:20PM - Spence: The EMT said you took off? Did you leave? 11:34PM - Spence: Emily just told me Anderson drove you back. You could’ve told me, I would have taken you home.
Your chuckle sadly at the text, Spencer hated driving but he would do it for you. It almost makes you think that your relationship could withstand the harsh weathering it’s been subjected to.
12:07AM - You: Sorry, phone died. I’m home now.
A response dings through a minute later.
12:08AM - Spence: I’ll go to the store tomorrow and get you a portable charger to keep in your bag. You should get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow for the wedding right? Well, the wedding that’s today seeing as it’s past midnight. You know what I mean.
A single tear falls down your face at his rambling words. Oh, how you’d miss this once he learns what’s really happened.
12:10AM - You: I’ll be there. See you tomorrow, or today? You know what I mean. Good night.
12:11AM - Spence: Good night :)
—
You smooth out your dress before going up the steps, making eyes with Penelope at the top. You’re wearing a silk chiffon dress in purple, deliberately picked for Spencer’s favorite color, some strappy heels and some dainty jewelry painting you in as the picture of elegance.
“Hey hot stuff, look at you!” Penelope exclaims squeezing you tightly, “You look sooo pretty, doesn’t she look so pretty?” she gestures to the two men behind her you now acknowledge to be Luke and Spencer.
“Like a dream.” Luke agrees.
“Yeah,” Spencer clears his throat, “You look…beautiful.”
Penelope the Oracle of All Time quickly senses the
atmosphere created and grabs Luke’s forearm, “Come on, you owe me that dance now!” She looks back and slyly gives you a thumbs up before dragging Luke further onto the dance floor.
Spencer slips into the vacated space to be right next to you, “How are you feeling?”
You know he’s asking about how you were held hostage at gunpoint, and not about how he’s about to become the loss of your life.
“ ‘M fine,” you swirl your champagne glass, “You?”
“Better now.”
A ghost of a smile creeps up on you, but you don’t let it travel further than that. He’s just being nice.
“Well, I’m just going to find the bathroom really quick.”
He holds a hand out for your glass, “Here, I’ll hold it.”
Your smile returns with bearings this time as you wander off in search of the bathroom. You’d feel embarrassed by how long it took you to find it but this place was massive, the Rossi money ran deep. Retracing your steps back to the main room you find Spencer and your glass not in the same place he was when you left. You scan the room looking for him and finally find him deep in conversation with—oh.
They’re too far for you to be able to hear them, but you can imagine that it’s the conversation. You watch JJ squeeze his forearm with affection and suddenly you can’t take it anymore. You couldn’t stand there and watch yourself become collateral in real time. Spencer turns at the sound of rustling up the spiral staircase followed by a door closing, catching the last glimpse of purple before it vanishes.
Spencer feels sick. He’s overwhelmed and overstimulated at the new information he’s learned about what really happened in the gas station. Then he comes to the realization of how walking in on him and JJ talking must have made you feel. His feet are carrying him up the stairs before he even realizes he’s made the choice.
He finds you at the end of the hallway and calls out your name with a firmness you’d never heard from him. But you’ve cut all the strings of sanity by now, and you whip around and snap, “What?”
He doesn’t like that tone. “JJ told me what happened.”
You snort and don’t meet his eyes, “Oh, did she?”
His brows furrow, “Yes, she did.”
“And?”
“And what?”
And what? Is he serious? Did you have to spell it out for him? It borderlines sadist the way he’s putting you through the ringer.
“What happens now, Spencer?” you exasperate, “Is this the part where you tell me we can’t be friends anymore because she finally confessed?”
Confusion colors his face more, “Why wouldn’t we be friends?”
A halfway scream—groan leaves your throat in frustration. “Spencer, come on.”
“Honey, I don’t understand—“
“That! See, you can’t just say things like that knowing what has to happen, and expect me to react like a normal person.” you exclaim with hands flailing.
“I’m really confused—“
“Because I’m in love with you!” you cry, “Now do you see why?”
Time all but stills in the hallway you’ve found yourselves in. You don’t know how long you’ve been up here. It’s a little farther down from the stairways so there’s no threat of evesdroppers, but with how worked up you’re getting the proximity renders itself useless. The faint muffle of animated conversations and lively jazz music fills the silence between you and Spencer, who looks like…well, actually for once you can’t decipher what he’s feeling.
He looks like he’s about to open his mouth when you both turn your head to the ascending footsteps—JJ looking for you, or Spencer probably, to come cut the cake. Spencer darts his eyes between the walls, a nervous tic you’d caught on to, before you realize he’s looking for a door and pulling you inside one. You yelp at the unexpected force and quickly quiet down again. The light switches on and based on the furniture you conclude that it’s a powder room, because of course Rossi’s venue has a powder room.
It’s a tiny room, big enough for a vanity table and a chaise lounge. Small enough to not have any room to leave without going past him. You stand an arm’s length away from him, the faint muffles of talk and music replaced by your sniffling. You shouldn’t have come, you start to realize. Having to say goodbye to him in person might actually rip you apart. Your chest weighs heavy with that familiar sad irony of mourning someone who hasn’t even told you they’re leaving yet. Preemptive measures that turned into routine practice.
You sniffle, “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, not that it ever did. I’m sorry I just sprung it on you like that, that was unfair. JJ…I thought JJ was my friend, I guess she is still but I’m not too sure now. But…she’s JJ and I’m just me and I know both of your pasts with each other so obviously it would be her. I’m making this too big a deal, I think. I just want you to be happy, in whatever capacity that looks like and I know it’s not with me so—“
Spencer stops your rambling by silently reaching out for your arm to pull you right in front of him, his hands reach to cup your face up to his, thumbs naturally swiping away the tears. He says your name like a coo, with a softness and delicacy you don’t feel you deserve right now. It hurts your heart entirely.
“Please don’t make this harder than it is.” you whisper through soft sobs.
You don’t know when it happens. Maybe in between scrunching your eyes or staring at your feet—but it happens. A cold pressure, then warmth, his lips are warm when he kisses you. A little surprising that he still tastes like Penelope’s sugary mocktail from earlier. A welcome pressure on your face as he holds you in place, as if you’d slip away further if he let go.
He stills in place, thinking he’s overstepped, until you finally remember that his lips are on your lips. You return the force back with as much as he gave you and let your arms loop around his neck, his own sliding from your face to take purchase on your hips.
That’s when Spencer starts kissing you. His hands grip your hips and tug you even closer as he deepens the kiss, plunging deeper back into the plush of your thighs to sit you on top of the vanity table. He slots himself between your legs, your hands wandering up to tug at the hairs on the nape of his neck. A soft groan leaves his throat and he detaches from your lips to amble down your neck, leaving a trail of lovebites in its wake.
This is wrong, like so wrong. You’re practically opening a salt box and pouring its entire contents on your wounds. But dammit, if this is the only time you’ll ever get to kiss Spencer, you’re sure as hell going to make the most out of the fleeting moment.
He mumbles something in between kisses to your neck, you instinctively ask him to say it again not expecting a response, and you immediately regret it as you feel his presence get lighter as he pulls away.
One more kiss to the spot behind your ear, he feels you preening below him and makes note of this—amongst everything else—for later, he pulls back to meet your eyes again.
“I love you.”
Your face drops, “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not being funny.”
Yes he is, he has to be. Because the universe in which Spencer Reid allows a piece of—the whole of it according to him, unbeknownst to you—his heart to be fully yours is not this one. You’ve never had luck like that.
“Then you’re lying to me, and that’s worse.” your voice cracks, Spencer feels the same crack imprinted on his heart.
“Sweetheart, I’m not lying. I love you.” He says it again to your surprise, the tenderness of his touch returning as he deliberates how to disarm you. The defensiveness you have isn’t surprising to him, it’s the note of insecurity in your tone he isn’t ready for, like you are unable to even believe it could be you.
You’re a dandelion, he thinks, the puffballs teetering attachment to their base with one wrong move sending them astray into the wind. He’s wading treacherous weather but he finds that for you he’d do anything and everything eyes closed if he had to.
“…Really?” you ask meekly. He nods slowly, never breaking his gaze on you. “But…JJ.”
His eyes soften and he nods in understanding, “There was a point in my life where, yes that was all I was waiting to hear,” he starts, “But, I am no longer at that point in my life anymore. I’m here now. She knows that.”
You’re unconvinced, Spencer can see it clear as day. Maybe it’s more apprehensive than unconvinced, but no one could blame you. How are you to believe anything when you went through what you did in the last 24 hours? You look defeated if anything, like you’d accepted your fate of always coming second place.
Spencer racks his brain hard trying to think of a way to show you that the podium doesn’t even exist, it’s only ever been you.
He pulls out his wallet and rifles through the many things inside, finding what he’s looking for before handing it to you. You look up at him in confusion when you make it out to be a movie ticket stub from the Korean film festival you’d both attended a little after you started at the BAU, the first time the two of you ever spent time together. The edges are soft and smoothed out as a result of time, like it’s been held and comforted for many days.
“There’s more in my apartment.”
“Movie ticket stubs?” you ask bemused.
“Commemorations of you,” his fingers brush the span of your arm up and down soothingly, “I probably have something for every time we’ve ever hung out. If it reminds me of you, I have it.”
Tears well up in your eyes for the umpteenth time, a few spilling over rapidly.
“Hey no, you’re not supposed to cry at that.” he whispers softly between you, his thumb taking the rightful and familiar place under your eye to catch the tears.
You shake your head, “I don’t think I’ve ever been loved like this.”
His heart tightens, “No? Well, I think you have to get used to it now.”
“No choice?” you pout.
He catches the timbre of humor in your voice and smiles widely. He hugs you tightly, pressing your head into his chest, “I guess you don’t have to. Just because you’re not used to it doesn’t mean I’ll stop. If you’re like this now, wait till you see the box I have of our things.”
You sniffle again, your head reeling as your tears stain his shirt and the scent of him invades your being. It’s overwhelming and all consuming, just how you know Spencer to be. He doesn’t expect you to believe him right away, you’ve been through so much that it would be unfair to ask that of you. You don’t know what tomorrow holds, or even the rest of this night, but one thing you have learned is that to Spencer you are known, and therefore you are loved.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid angst#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x fanfiction
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before the bell rings (a loving family, an unpalatable desire spin-off)
ft. romatic yandere bruce wayne x gn reader x platonic yandere batfam.
tw: slight nsfw. bruce watches and kisses you while you sleep. in no way, shape or form do i condone this behavior irl.
ihave a raging headache but i don't care because i love making spin-offs of my original series'. and now i've been thinking of something related to a loving family, an unpalatable desire where just like again &. again being the opposite of like him, in this current universe i'm writing about;
you're much too loved by your husband, bruce wayne.
there are eyes everywhere when you two have been into the first stages of your marriage. he may have proposed to you for the sake and promises of protection both your families agreed upon from when martha and thomas and alive— your relationship must've been purely transactional during your childhood; but in the process of knowing you better during the planning for your wedding, in the process of grief and accepting his parents' deaths, a broken childhood and cold glances—
bruce came to love the comfort and warmth you offered him.
the entire time he was convinced that your marriage will be all but a distant relationship all throughout planning for possible venues, cake designs, guests and attires; a task he chose to uphold for the sake of your preference of a picture perfect wedding and his reputation to keep in public.
it was all that, mere promises to maintain cordiality.
there would be no affectionate touches, or the need for intimacy during both your honeymoon stages. he respects your boundaries, and you do with his privacy. after the entire wedding, everything will return to normal; with the added fact that you'd simply be living in his mansion with no qualms to bother him whatsoever.
those were unsaid agreements that you yourself knew to abide by. you were never close with the man you'd be married with during childhood, after all. for him, you must've been a checklist for him to fulfill his parents' will; there was no love before or after his grief, not even when you'd attend the funeral and expressed your apologies for the loss— his eyebrows furrowing at your shorter form, but never quite looking at you.
younger you knew it was the protection that will be granted, and never the love you wanted, but you still held on to that flicker of hope that somehow, someday you'll eventually form an amicable bond with your soon-to-be husband.
yet to you, he was the only ticket way out of your abusive home life, one filled with not only coldness, but sharp glares from a mother who never wanted you and painful beatings from a father who criticizes his own child's every mistake, each hit more painful than the last.
as much as you desire something more homely from your soon to be husband, you've long since accepted that your life will never be filled with visceral love that eats you up, love whose hands tangle upon your hair not out of sheer hatred but desire, love whose strong arms raise you up in the air rather than raises itself up to hit you.
and as you both prepare for your wedding, an air of awkwardness and discomfort was expected. backs turned, never facing each other, your eyes never quite looking at his, and unwanted brushes of each other's bodies bumping into each other translates itself to tension and mere desire to get over the plans just as quickly.
bruce tells himself, it will all be over soon. this is necessary to keep up facades and earn more connections. he hasn't been as close with childhood friends after his parents' death, hence why he was too ruffled to properly communicate with his partner after years of isolation from peers. he knows you know to understand that fact.
you tell yourself that as much as your heart aches at the impending doom that you wouldn't be able to spend time with your husband as much after the entire fiasco of dealing with wedding arrangements, with wayne enterprises and hundreds of other duties to fulfill— you've nothing to do but embrace that mere fact.
so it was all that.
bruce will never love you as much as you force yourself to love each and every flawed part of him. the first steps of planning your marriage already reflected what would soon be the damning years of a loveless courtship.
love is painful, loving bruce will be painful. your heart will never flutter at the meaningless bouquet of flowers he'd gift you, or jewelry that was never your preference, all because you both knew it was a necessary farce to make things prettier on the outside. bruce can never learn to love again after the heartbreak of losing two of his loved ones.
all that.
yet the longer you two spend time in the same room in stuffy outfit fittings and bakeries whose warmth both your loves you thought would never quite reach— the more bruce notices the slight quirk of your lips every time he guessed your favorite color or design, the gleam in your eyes glowing brighter at him choosing what he thought would be the perfect confectionaries for reception, and the tiny claps and soft tugs at the cuffs of his sleeve the more he chooses to accommodate each and every preference of yours.
he starts to fall, not out of hindsight. he was never an obvious man, no.
but he fell in love, either way.
with your habits, the way your hands gesture your excitement, and the shy grin you show his way whenever he pursues physical affection to you in both private and public; with you melting into his once stiff chest and ridged shoulders, hands wrapped around your waist, head slowly nuzzling into the crown of your hair. sometimes he'd be brave enough to caress your hips and run his fingers through the flesh between your neck and shoulders.
every damn time he takes a newer risk, every time, you'd be left shocked, yet never pushing away at his ministration.
a surprise that rewires your perception of him in your mind— not less pleasant nonetheless.
he falls in love whenever his heart beats faster— a feeling he thought he'd never come across after years of hardened training— at the way you buzz every time he proposes you two go out on dates, at your unheard gasps whenever he actually gives you bouquets of your favorite flowers as gifts, at your incoherent mumbles as you two walk through the farmer's market with his body shielding you from stalking paparazzi's and countless of admires; your mouth forming words, brows furrowed, oblivious at bruce's unwavering gaze and arms ready to rest upon your shoulders as if he never once hesitated to touch you.
and he soon realizes that he begins to yearn sleeping in the same room as you. you still stay at your home at the time being, only to be housed at his right after your marriage— but bruce loses sleep all the same. at thoughts of what you would feel like all pressed up against him, the warmth that emanates off your body every time your arms would explore his chest, and how he'd wake up to your wide, intoxicating smile, calling him, bruce wayne, your husband as you caress him and tell him breakfast is ready.
he could picture you sitting beside him, your arms unknowingly on his thighs because you crave physical affection, your attention on both your children, chattering with them as if you were always their parent. he sees you scolding damian for sneaking food under the table for his, telling jason and tim off for arguing yet again, whilst dick laughs at his brother's clumsy way of eating with barbara rebuking his statements. you'll always be the first person cass would talk to about her ballet recitals, the one duke chides for advice about which club to choose, and steph's first choice every time she stumbles upon drama.
the entire atmosphere would be spontaneous. there could be small fights, little debates and sometimes even tension, yet they listen to you nevertheless. at your pretty voice giving them an earful altogether whilst bruce would worship you with his hungry eyes, forgetting the breakfast on his plate just to hold himself back from the urge to pepper kisses on you in front of the family.
the perfect dream, like a gomez to his morticia who admires every side of them. their beauty, their sadness, anger and flaws. you complete him, he only realizes at such a late time.
just as quick as he imagines those fantasies, bruce would find himself stalking through the confines of your family home as batman; confirming to himself your breathing patterns, the flutter of your eyes, soft mumbles, and your tight hold on one of your pillows, wishing it was him instead. there, he takes in the state of your room: the decor, your wallpapers, each and every trinkets and hobbies you've collected all over the years; and most importantly, just how small and confined your room is, yet cozy at the same time.
the manor would be your castle soon enough, and he promises that it would feel as homely as your previous room. he promises that you wouldn't be sleeping alone eventually. you'll be so loved... so cared for. he'll learn to properly love you, how to touch you in all the ways he could imagine, to kiss parts left neglected, to satiate the hunger watching you every damn time.
every night, he gains newer information about you as you sleep oblivious to the presence looming above you. every night, he notes the texture of your bedsheet, the blankets that hug at your body tightly, the pillows you drool on and the softness of your mattress.
he'd ruffle your hair, and begin to trudge closer and closer to you, to the point his confidence would be at an all time high and he'd be breathing the same pattern as you, body nearly pressed atop yours as his hands tangle itself upon your messy hair. bruce watches your skin bathe in the moonlight's glow, he admires the slow rise and fall of your chest and the delicious peaks of skin from the fabric that threatens to fall.
his desire only grows stronger, his willpower grows weaker all the same.
and at a time of momentary weakness, at the passion that drips off his body merely watching you, at the unsated hunger and moments of restricting himself from touching you too much during your times together— he kisses you while still sleeping, deeply and unregretful at his choice. devouring your lips, wishing he could instead feel his tongue pressing against yours, and licking at the drool that escapes from his relentless kisses. his hands would be on either side of your head, but his thighs pin your waist, heavy and unrelenting on moving from its position.
when he lets go, he laps at his lips for any remaining taste of you, hardwiring the memory into the deepest, most sinful parts of his brain, and admires your beauty from up close. bruce watches just how angelic you look sprawled atop a bed that soon would be big enough to fit two, he sees the smile slowly forming on your face, and the giggles that erupt all while you still remain asleep.
you must've been dreaming something pleasant. he hopes that it is him, he hopes that it would be him lavishing you in his love.
and he'll be coming back home right after pecking your lips and cheeks one last time, before leaving your room, to sleep in his bed all alone after a night of a passionate endeavor. he'll be dreaming of a night with you, every night with you in fact. of your pleasured closed-eyed smile in bed and arms that reach to wrap around his body like you do your pillows. he'll cover you like a blanket with his warmth, too.
and you'll always be in his mind, even as he wakes up every morning after another day of sleepless patrol, without you by his side, without your body pressed tightly against his, without the feeling of your plush skin on his scarred one, or the melody of your snores and flutter of your eyes at the light that hits it; bruce would never be satisfied.
in fact, he begins to crave for more as he touches his lips, remembers how easily pinned you are, how fitting your body is wrapped around his. he realizes that mere fantasies would only serve as distractions, he realizes that he needs the real thing.
soon, he'll invite you to the manor, all in his own accord, without hesitation or implications that it was all for mere planning.
there you would be, shy and modestly greeting his children. bruce notices the way your finger shivers, and the barely concealed smile that makes it way to your face when you finally meet your soon-to-be family, your soon-to-be children.
unaware, oblivious to the night he took your first-kiss. he knows it is your first kiss, you've written it in a journal of yours that you're saving it for whoever is your future husband— it's only right that he prides himself in the fact that he is your fiance.
he notices how well you fit in the manor, how you're such a perfect match to the neverending energy of adrenaline to fight and to patrol, acting as a mediator, a peacemaker to the hustle and bustle of spontaneous fights and arguments that alfred used to deal with alone. and his children—?
god, his children love you.
after first impressions, after you spend time coddling beside your fiance, talking to each and every one of them with a fond smile; acting as if they're all already your children without any second thoughts, never forcing yourself into their lives or invading private topics or inside jokes like the other suitors interested in bruce who visited; after you leave the manor despite their insistence that you stay—
all of them took it in their hands to help you both prepare for the wedding arrangements; damian made a comment to push for the wedding date to be way earlier. dick says he'd be in charge of the music, steph butts in saying she knows how to play the piano, cass opens up about performing a ballet piece during the wedding, duke suggests alfred should be handling the food, barbara says she has connections with entertainment factions, tim states matterof fact that he will be organizing the entire schedule, even jason insists on attending, just simply disguised amongst the background.
it would've been a marriage where it's only your side of the family who attend, an agreement you both settled for in the earlier stages of planning, but...
if the family loves you so much at just a first impression then...
bruce wayne loves his spouse even more.
and you, being the hopeless romantic you ever are, craving intimacy at such a young age from the lack of it, took the bait and fell into his controlling hold when you've still had the chance to back out.
after all, what is love without sacrifices?
soon enough, what once were lingering, unsure touches would be bruce holding you tightly against his chest like you two were puzzle pieces fit perfectly together. he was never the type to compliment through words, but every time you wear your favorite shade or those that matches his suit colors every time you both go out for outings, his bright blue, yet dull eyes would glimmer in the sunlight, taking in your entire form. he'll kiss you for what feels longer than half a minute, and sometimes even pin you down against the mahogany door of the office if it meant he was that pleased.
you love the attention, you bask at just how easy it is to love his children. even if their personalities contrast, even through the fights they sometimes have in front of you; none ever lash out at you for breaking it up, even the youngest, damian, who would always be the most violent amongst the siblings.
hell, he'd always be the most possessive, the most demanding of your attention for whenever you stray too close to his other siblings. always glaring, always picking up fights and insulting everyone, but never directing anything at you, even threatening to bite those who dare touch any gifts you give him.
yet you love them, either way, and you've come to love bruce, too. at the most unexpected of times, even. you love it when his touches linger a bit longer, you buzz with joy every time he'd hide your face from paparazzi and hold you tighter, never once letting a hand stray far away from your body, always having you in his arms just like how your perfect fantasies would always play in your head.
and even if you're still unaware of bruce's identity of being batman, the same hero you used to fear, you still insist on kissing bruce's scars that he always comes home with every night after patrol. you let yourself become a treasure he worships, you allow him to kiss you, defile you, and never once let you out alone anymore— your occasional manor visits before your marriage turned into countless of nights spent under a roof with people you thought you'd never be... that closely intimate with.
it is only before the wedding bell rings that bruce falls in love with you, and it would soon be after that you realize just how trapped you truly are.
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: after this, i will return to hibernation. and if anybody asks, yes, superman wanting to smash you in this au is still canon. and yes, he will find a way to persuade you in smashing him.
taglist: @donnaaurelia, @prince-nikko, @neerathebrightstar (i hope u like this :))), @mr-celestial-writings, @glasscurrents, @sh4rk-k1d, @vellichor-and-hiraeth, @sammytheotakunerd.
#🌷... yael's works#series: loving family unpalatable desires#yandere dc#yandere batfam#yandere batman#yandere dc comics#yandere bruce wayne#yandere bruce wayne x reader#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere damian waybe#yandere barbara gordon#yandere cassandra cain#yandere stephanie brown#yandere duke thomas#platonic yandere#romantic yandere#yandere smut#yandere angst#soft yandere#yandere#yandere x male reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x gn reader#yandere x darling#male yandere
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┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗩𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 ꒱
ekko 𝒙 fem!reader ┊ viktor 𝒙 fem!reader (platonic)
୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled
୨୧ I don't know, I just thought it would be a fun dynamic, enjoy!
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
𓆤 Ekko crashing into you on his hoverboard was how it all began. It happened during one of your hurried trips back to Zaun after a grueling week in Piltover’s laboratories. You were distracted, engrossed in your mental checklist of materials Viktor had asked you to bring. You didn't even notice the faint whir of Ekko’s hoverboard until it was too late.
“Hey, watch—” Ekko started, his voice sharp with alarm before cutting off mid-sentence as the two of you collided.
You landed flat on your back with a groan, Viktor's precious schematics flying out of your bag. Ekko was quick to get up and extend a hand to help you up.
“Oh crap, I didn’t mean to—uh, are you okay?” Ekko asked with a sheepish grin.
“You should really watch where you’re going!” you snapped, brushing yourself off. Then your eyes locked. It was hard to stay mad at someone who looks like they actually cared.
From then on, every return trip to Zaun seemed incomplete without bumping into him, either by accident or by his deliberate attempts to "run into" you.
𓆤 Ekko had mixed feelings about your constant back-and-forth trips. He understood why you had to be in Piltover so much—your apprenticeship under Viktor was important—but that didn’t mean he liked it.
“You know, it’s kinda unfair,” he said one evening, as the two of you sat on the rooftop of a crumbling Zaun building. The view of the Undercity's twinkling lights stretched around you, and the new prototype of his hoverboard leaned against the nearby wall. “Piltover gets you all day, and Zaun just gets you at night.”
𓆤 Ekko loved your sharp mind. In fact, he found your involvement with Hextech fascinating, even if he teased you endlessly about being a “Piltover nerd.”
“Look at you, little Miss Zaunite Hextech Genius,” he’d say with a smirk as he watched you tinker with a device. “All fancy with your gears and crystals. Can you make something that doesn’t explode?”
You rolled your eyes.
“This is for science. Not for impressing you.”
“Oh, but you already impress me.” He’d wink, leaning over your shoulder to inspect your work. His genuine curiosity often led to him offering ideas that somehow worked, despite his lack of formal training. You suspected his innate knack for mechanics rivaled even Viktor’s.
𓆤 Ekko would often stop by you house in Undercity unannounced, bringing little gifts—scrap metal he thought you could use or metal flowers that he made with his own hands for you
𓆤 You, in turn, would surprise him with modifications for his hoverboard or gadgets to help the Firelights. His reaction to your gifts was always the same: pure delight.
𓆤 Leaving aside the jokes, he loved watching you work, claiming it was “like seeing genius in action.” You’d laugh and tell him to stop distracting you, but his presence always made the hours fly by.
𓆤 The two of you shared countless late-night conversations on rooftops, swapping dreams and fears.
𓆤 It started subtly. Ekko’s laugh lingered in your mind longer than it should have. His voice, the way he said your name, echoed in your thoughts while you worked. You found yourself doodling in the margins of your notes, spiraling into daydreams that left you blushing.
𓆤 Viktor initially didn’t think much of Ekko—at least not directly. He only knew of him through your constant chatter.
“Ekko said this really clever thing about—” “Ekko helped me figure out how to—” “Ekko...”
Eventually, Viktor sighed and set down his pen.
“I can’t believe you’re getting so worked up about some guy,” he said, exasperation lacing his words.
“This one is different!” you protested, fidgeting with a loose thread on your sleeve. “He’s honest, he’s sweet—”
“Please…”
“He would never do anything to hurt me!”
Viktor raised an eyebrow.
“He’s a guy.”
“He’s also... brilliant. And kind... and handsome... and—”
“Oh shit, here we go again…” He exhaled, completely tired.
𓆤 The meeting happened in Piltover, under less-than-ideal circumstances. You’d convinced the Academy to grant you temporary access to the lab for a personal project, ostensibly Hextech-related. In truth, you were helping Ekko repair an broken stabilizer for the Firelights
You thought you were being sneaky. You were wrong.
Viktor appeared in the doorway, cane tapping against the marble floor. His eyes immediately landed on the device in Ekko’s hands and then flicked to you.
“And what,” he asked dryly, “is going on here?”
Ekko froze, looking like a child caught stealing candy. You scrambled to explain, words tumbling out in a panicked mess.
To your surprise, Viktor didn’t explode. Instead, he regarded Ekko with quiet intensity. After a long pause, he nodded.
“You have talent,” he said to Ekko. “Perhaps more than you deserve.”
Ekko grinned, clearly amused. “Thanks? I think?”
From then on, Viktor tolerated Ekko’s presence, though he would often sigh dramatically whenever you brought him up in conversation.
𓆤 The news of Viktor’s declining health hit you like a blow. For all his brilliance, your mentor was mortal, and the idea of losing him felt unbearable. You confided in Ekko, who held you as you cried, his quiet strength grounding you.
“He’s proud of you, you know,” Ekko said softly, stroking your back. “He might not say it, but he is.”
Those words stayed with you, offering comfort during the hardest days.
𓆤 As Viktor’s condition worsened, he grew more reflective. One day, he called you into his office. You found him gazing out the window, his frail frame silhouetted against the light.
“You’ve been a good apprentice,” he said without turning around. “Better than I deserved.”
“Don’t say that,” you whispered, your throat tight.
He turned to face you, his expression soft despite the lines of pain etched into his face.
“I’m sorry I won’t be there for your wedding day.”
Your eyes widened.
“What—?”
“I’m not blind,” he said with a faint smile. “Or deaf. That boy... he makes you happy.”
Tears welled in your eyes.
“He does.”
“Then go to him,” Viktor said gently. “And live. Live, my dear. Work, yes, but also live. With him.”
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
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Note: If aren't going to participate in Pro-Palestine action, do not mention it!
For accountability:
This is how Magz plans support Palestine during Global Strike January 21 to 28.
Am going to put more Palestine posts in queue, with more focus.
Am going to not spend on anything during week, nor go out (rare anyway).
Am going to not publicly post our arts and promos (of art freelance work).
Am going to read and learn more on Palestine - as there still more can learn.
Am going to be even more visibly pro-Palestinian.
Am going to continue keeping up with what's happening in Gaza.
Am going to continue boycotting products and services on BDS' Boycott List, including not giving free social media promo and good impressions.
Am going to try learn Palestinian Arabic.
Am going to describe, transcribe, and alt text posts on Palestine when possible - to make it more accessible (Am Multiply Disabled).
Am going to share ways to help.
One of shorter checklist options:
Longer checklists:
But really just do *anything* that support and raise awareness *more*, learn, or contribute. Whatever can manage do n able sustain.
If wasn't able to prepare in time, can still participate for rest of week. Is not "all or nothing", don't have to give up. Keep Palestine in your thoughts and actions !
Some links:
https://samidoun.net/2023/12/calendar-of-resistance-for-palestine-2024/
Popular Palestine Accounts:
https://www.instagram.com/motaz_azaiza/
https://www.instagram.com/wizard_bisan1/
https://www.instagram.com/everydaypalestine/
https://www.instagram.com/letstalkpalestine/
(Has graphic footage) https://www.instagram.com/eye.on.palestine/
Some Useful Posts:
Hussyknee's Palestine Masterpost
PaliPunk's Palestine MasterList
SulfurCosmos' "Palestinian Owned Companies" List (for later)
Paradox_Punch's "Pro-Palestine Brands" Twitter Thread (for later)
SulfurCosmos' "Preserving Gaza's Universities"
LoveLetter2You's Learn Palestinian Arabic Masterpost
How To Archive For Palestine
(rest of Magz's #palestine tag)
(#AltTextPalestine on Twitter)
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Couples Shit with Simon Riley, Stay at Home Missus Edition:
Simon Riley is a SAHM (stay-at-home missus). Yes, he's fine with it. Yes, you're fine with it. No, taking care of Beanie and the house is not bloody hard. Yes, he enjoys it, even when Beanie wakes him up at the asscrack of dawn to play Princess Daddy Bandit Heeler. No, it's not babysitting, it's called being her FATHER, and no, it's not emasculating what Simon does, it's called being a MISSUS and taking care of his family. What the fuck?
You and Simon are a team, a well-oiled machine playing the game of life on your own terms, and while what you do may not work for others, it works for you two and you're all the happier for it. Plus, it's adorable how much Beanie has Simon wrapped around her finger.
Simon's an organized fellow. Keeps a checklist of things to do around the house, things pertaining to Beanie, etc. Nothing he can't handle. He likes working with his hands.
And speaking of Beanie, she is your alarm clock. Once she's up, the whole house is up preparing for the day. You're usually sleepily trailing behind Simon into the kitchen. At the same time, Beanie sits comfortably on Simon's shoulders and lives her best Queen Bean life like she should, happily talking your ears off about everything on her mind.
Beanie turns getting ready for the day into a family affair, especially when she goes to nursery (she doesn't go all week, only a couple days to get her acclimated to a school setting and to socialize), and she wants to look her absolute best. You two help her get ready and all's well until you and Beanie decide that Daddy should be twinsies with his baby girl. Oh... bloody fuckin' hell. And so he does—matching shirts—and he's on official Princess Daddy Security duty.
Lunch? Already packed and ready to go. And like clockwork, you forget yours. And like clockwork, Simon has to drop it off to you after he drops Beanie off.
Though Simon in general doesn't have two fucks to give, he's all too aware of the stares he gets when he's with Beanie. Some wariness, a little bit of fear, and some... interest? When he drops her off at daycare, takes her to the playground, takes her on playdates with her friends, or is at the store getting groceries, he gets stares. What, they've never seen a man on Princess Daddy security duty before? The shock value and looks on their faces are worth it all, especially when Beanie is screaming-laughing "Daddy!" as Simon hoists her over his shoulders.
But if he isn't getting stares when he's out with Beanie, he gets stares from your co-workers. Your co-workers who STILL can't believe he's the missus. Your co-workers who can't believe he's the one who keeps the house while you work. You make it a point to kiss him every time he drops your lunch off, right in front of your co-workers, before staring at them pointedly. And Simon, your MISSUS, chuckles every time.
Grocery runs with Beanie is an adventure all its own. The Queen has to give her approval and it's his daughter's world after all. "What do you think, Beanie?" She contemplates a little before nodding and going, "That one!" 'cause Rileyland has to have the best food after all. And then they go to the bakery. They keep it a secret—"Pinky promise, Beanie." "Pinky promise!"—from you. Rileyland has to have the best sweets after all.
When you come home, you're greeted by the Queen Bean herself who's helping Daddy make dinner. Your usual greeting is to hug him from behind and just hold him. Your husband, your missus, the bedrock who gets shit done, and supports you and your daughter with everything in him. You couldn't ask for a better partner.
After a hearty dinner complete with Beanie talking about her day, cleaning up, packing your lunch for tomorrow, and taking your evening bath, you three usually wind up on the couch. Everyone is pilled on Simon and just... being. Relaxing. Well, you and Simon are relaxing and Beanie is fighting sleep and trying to convince you both to get a dog because her friends have dogs. Yeah. Just another day in the Riley household.
#2queued4u.#dad!simon#call of duty#call of duty modern dadfare.#call of duty modern warfare#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#cod x reader#cod x you#x black reader#x poc reader#x plus size reader#task force 141
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Woo! I’ve finally got time to write! Had to go to a wedding, suffered through eight whole hours of pure disorganized mess, and got mad about it. Emphasis on the disorganized part. So, I bring you: party planner!Danny Phantom.
——
If anyone was to see him now, they’d definitely think that it was odd that Danny was the one in the party planning field. They wouldn’t be surprised if it was Jazz, but Danny ‘wing it’ Fenton planning things? Never.
But here he was, clipboard in hand and checking off hors d’œuvres from the list.
“Anton, could you do a check of the sound system? Make sure everything’s working?”
“Got it.”
Danny lifted the buffet table, laden with heavy food, and used a bit of his ghostly strength to move it over.
“Perfect.”
He double checked the seating chart, and readjusted the miniature ice sculpture centerpieces he made for the party.
Wayne Manor was all lit up and perfectly dusted. Danny ran through his mental checklist. Tabled? Check. Dance floor clean and scuff free? Check. DJ booth and open bar running without issues? Check. Live band setting up with back up instruments and strings? Check. Decorations on point? Oh, he’ll have to get the team to readjust those.
Time to check-
“Danny! How’s it going?” Bruce Wayne beamed and slung an arm around his shoulder.
Danny smiled politely. “Mr. Wayne. Everything is going smoothly. Would you like to check the food the chefs have made?”
“Sure, sure! I definitely need to eat before I drink, haha!”
“That’s a good idea! Good thing you’re about to try a bunch of food.” Danny matched the billionaire’s energy. He’s going to get paid so good.
“So, Danny, are you going to college?”
Danny passed him a small sampler. “Ah, I can’t. Some stuff happened in high school and I don’t really have the grades or the money to.”
Plus, his credentials were in another plane of existence and he hadn’t figured out how to transfer those records yet.
“You could still attend college, I’m sure! Your parents might be able to help pay?” Bruce nommed on the food. He gave a thumbs up.
Danny sighed. “It’s not always an option. Plus, my parents are dead.”
In this universe. His own? Alive and kicking GIW ass.
“Oh, I see-”
“Father.”
“Woah!” Danny blinked, looking down at the baby Wayne the popped up next to his father’s elbow.
“Damian! What’s wrong, kiddo?”
Damian shot his father a flat glare and dragged the laughing billionaire away.
Danny snorted and returned to his tasks. He has to check the speeches and the lighting. Hm… he doesn’t have time to adjust everything how he wants it.
Good thing he knew a guy that could stop time.
“Hey, Clockwork?”
——
“Father, I understand your inclination towards adopting poor black haired and blue eyed orphans, but I would like to remind you that I have far too many siblings to be adding yet another bumbling buffoon.”
“I was not considering that, Damian.”
Damian let go of his wrist with a grimace. “Denial is not becoming of a Wayne, Father.”
“Yeah, B. I could see you grab the adoption papers from all the way over here.” Tim adjusted his tie. “Anyways, Dick is on his way. He’s running a little late because of some stuff in Blüdhaven.”
“Thank you, Tim.”
——
“Batman.”
“Oracle.”
“Look at the footage of Wayne manor.” Oracle pulled up the video surveillance scattered through out the manor. Specifically, the ones of the west ballroom. Daniel Fenton stood in his spot, looking down at his clipboard but a second later, he's moved three inches to the left and the decorations had subtly been moved more aesthetic spots. "I think Danny might be a meta. We'll have to look into him."
Batman stood up, allowing the fondness he had for Danny as Bruce Wayne drain away. This is a potential threat, and Batman will treat him like one. (Danny will remember this.)
"Contact Flash. I need him to scan for any temporal disturbance."
"Understood."
——
"Brucie!" A socialite squealed as she came to bestow hugs upon a long suffering Bruce. "My god, this place is gorgeous! You must give me your planner's number. I could absolutely use some fresh eyes for the Annual Spring Party."
"Awe, Janine! I gotta keep some of the good things to myself!" Bruce whined, inwardly smirking as he saw his kids mock-gagging behind the lady's back. "What if your party's cooler than mine? What should I do then? You're already so gorgeous! Why, is that a Birkin?"
Janine lit up and all but forgot about getting Danny's contact information. Bruce patted his own back for a job well done, even if he had to listen to Janine's itemized list of random luxury goods she had to buy before being offered a bag.
He's a Wayne. The Gotham Hermes wished they could partner with the Waynes. Plus, he's pretty sure he's got at least three of those bags somewhere in the manor to bait out Selina.
Catching Danny sliding in between the servers and going towards the kitchen, Bruce quickly excused himself with a disarming himbo grin.
Time to subtly grill the kid.
——
"Hey, Timmy?"
"Hello, Dick," Tim smiled elegantly at the couple who's companies he was about to bring six feet underground and excused himself. "What's up?"
"Have you noticed that the ice sculptures haven't melted at all?"
Tim blinked, eyes sliding over to a harried Danny being followed by Bruce on a mission. Oof.
"Freeze?" He asked mildly, face innocent of any nefarious thoughts.
"That's what I'm thinking." Dick smiled sunnily, throwing an arm around Tim's shoulders.
"Heard the guy's living out near Crime Alley. We should get Jay to check it out." Tim pretended to laugh, grinning as his brains made plans for a stakeout.
"Heard, my ass. You totally stalked him, didn't you?"
"Got proof?"
Dick snorted, removing his arm. "Nope. I'll let Jay know. You should probably help Danny out, though, he looks like he's about to lose his temper."
"Bruce is at it again." Tim sighed. "Yeah, okay."
#batman#danny phantom#bruce wayne#himbo brucie wayne#stone cold batman#danny: im just trying to do my job#batdad and batsuspicion duking it out in the corner: i think not#damian wayne#tim drake#dick grayson#dcxdp#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 1 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: After Bradley finally breaks things off with his girlfriend just days before the start of a deployment, he expects a few lonely months of nobody writing to him or waiting for his return. But the fateful arrival of a package from a class of fourth graders learning about aviation changes everything.
Warnings: Fluff, language, breakup angst
Length: 2200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
Bradley had his duffle bag open on his bed, tidy stacks of his uniform components, flight suits, and underwear lined up next to it. He had his checklist in front of him. He liked to be as organized as possible.
"Are you even listening to me? I thought we were going out to dinner."
He looked up from his partially packed toiletry bag into the annoyed eyes of Vanessa where she stood on the other side of the bed. He was seven months into this relationship, and sometimes he wondered why either of them still bothered. She knew his routine by now. She knew what his deployments were like, but she had absolutely no patience for any of it.
"Ness, I'm leaving in four days. I just need to focus on this for a few minutes so I know what I need to buy before Wednesday, and then we can go out and eat."
"It's already seven o'clock. I thought you'd have finished packing by now," she replied with a pout and a glare. "Every nice restaurant is going to have a long wait now, because I'm just going to go ahead and assume that you didn't make a reservation anywhere."
He took a deep breath and let it out before pressing his lips together. What he really wanted was to order something for delivery, cuddle on the couch, watch a movie and have the first round of hot, goodbye sex. But she'd never go for it now. Apparently he'd already fucked up for the night.
"No, I didn't make a reservation," he said calmly, and she rolled her eyes and reached for her phone. "I really don't even feel like going out. I'll be gone for months, stuck in a tiny bunk or a loud mess hall. I'd like to stay in tonight where it's quiet. Just me and you."
But she wasn't listening at all. "Let me see if Woodmere has any tables left," she muttered. "If not there, then I can try The Landmark." She looked as beautiful as she always did, but he couldn't even stand the sight of her right now.
"Ness. I want to stay in."
She groaned and looked him in the eye. "Of course you do. You always want to stay in. You always want to decompress or read a book. That's not healthy, you know that, right? I shouldn't have to force you out of your comfort zone all the time."
"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. His job was demanding, both mentally and physically. He usually preferred quiet over loud, because his own thoughts started to buzz when she dragged him out all over the place. And now she was glaring at him again. "Are you even going to miss me?" he asked softly, afraid of the answer. "You haven't said so one time since I told you about this deployment."
She heaved a deep and annoyed sigh. "You're deployed so frequently, Bradley, it's like you're the government's bitch. And if the Navy is going to insist upon eating up taxpayer money, the least they could do is pay you more."
His skin started to crawl as she went off about his career like always, but he'd honestly had enough. He raised his voice louder and asked once again, "Are you even going to miss me?"
Vanessa scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course I'm going to miss you. What kind of question is that? I'll be bored every weekend, waiting for you to get back, like usual. I almost never go out when you're deployed."
Bradley's heart started to pound in a way that made his palms sweat and his stomach turn. "Jesus, Vanessa. I asked if you're going to miss me. Not miss going out every weekend."
When she hesitated for a beat, he reached out to brace his hand on his headboard. "Yes, Bradley. I am going to miss you. Okay? Happy?"
"Fuck, no. I'm not happy Vanessa." And that was the bottom line right there. The absolute truth. And it didn't hurt to say it, rather he immediately felt better. He knew he would miss the sporadic emails and the phone calls and the dirty pictures and the reunion sex. The upcoming weeks would be harder without those things to look forward to, but at least he'd come home to his own place where he could do what he wanted instead of what he was told. He wouldn't have to listen to her negativity. "I think we need to break up."
Her eyes went wide with shock. "Excuse me?"
Bradley let go of the bed and ran his hand over his face. "You heard me, Ness. This isn't working. For either of us."
"Don't call me Ness," she snapped, immediately turning toward his bedroom door. "You're not my boyfriend anymore." She paused briefly, just long enough to say, "Fuck you," and then she was gone.
He sat on the edge of his bed for a couple minutes, but it didn't take long to sort through his feelings. The immediate sense of calm that he felt had him convinced he'd done the right thing. There was no shared living space. There was no ring. There was no real commitment. Maybe he'd always known why that was the case.
So he packed up his bag and made a shopping list, and when his stomach started to growl, he ordered dinner for himself from his favorite restaurant. He didn't cry, and he didn't worry about having to do anything he didn't want to do.
------------------------
The first few weeks of his deployment were great. He spent a lot of time in the air, and he flirted a bit with some of the women who approached him in the gym on the aircraft carrier. He jerked off while he thought about whomever he fucking wanted to. He didn't spend very much time reflecting on his relationship with Vanessa other than to acknowledge that it wasn't much of a relationship at all. In the moments where he thought maybe he missed her, he realized he just missed the idea of having someone who cared about him.
He was about a month in when he realized the attractive woman who always touched his arm in the gym was actually married, and he was not all about that. He was also maybe kind of getting tired of masturbating which was a depressing thought. He was bored, and he was lonely, and other than randomly hooking up with someone, he figured his best bet was finding a book or something to read.
When he made his way to dinner, he heard everyone talking about the helicopter that had landed on deck less than an hour ago stacked full of containers of mail. There was a line of officers trailing down the hallway adjacent to the mess hall, everyone waiting patiently to pick up parcels from their loved ones. Since Bradley had basically nobody who would think to write to him, he made his way toward the food instead.
His tray was piled high with everything he could get his hands on, and when he looked for somewhere to sit, he had to deftly avoid that stacked lieutenant who had a husband at home. He found a table off in the corner and devoured his dinner alone. When he stood to drop off his empty dishes and tray, some petty officers entered the cavernous room to drop off unclaimed mail.
"Harper, Jonathan! Pauley, Vincent! Dixon, Jennifer! Sutter, Wesley! Bradshaw, Bradley!"
He was more than a little intrigued as he made his way up along with a handful of others, and then a white envelope and a small cardboard box were thrust into his hands. The envelope was addressed to him by name in familiar chicken scratch that made him smile. He shouldn't have counted Natasha out, especially when his birthday was in a few days.
He tore into the envelope as he made his way back to his bunk. It contained a very short letter along with a coupon for buy one get one free steak dinners at her favorite restaurant with a post-it stuck to the back.
This is your birthday present. Now when you take me out for my birthday when you get home, you only have to pay half as much. You're welcome.
He snorted as he unlocked his bunk door and tossed everything from Nat onto the small nightstand. And then he examined the box. It wasn't addressed to him. Not really. It was addressed to 'A Deployed US Naval Aviator' in tidy handwriting. Then he noticed the return address was from an elementary school in Mira Mesa, and his curiosity got the best of him.
Bradley sat on the edge of his bed and tore gently into the packaging to find the box was jam packed with items and overflowing with envelopes. He tipped the box, and everything went cascading out onto his narrow bed. There were a lot of snacks, and a pack of trail mix caught his eye, making his stomach growl.
"I just fed you," he muttered but ripped into the snack anyway, dumping half of it into his mouth in one go. He was eyeing the envelopes carefully, each one distinctly unique. Some had names written on them, and some had little doodles or pictures, but they definitely seemed to be from a class of kids who went to the school. He sifted through them until he found a slightly larger, more official looking envelope which once again said To: A Deployed US Naval Aviator.
He finished his snack, silently thanking the class of kids and their teacher, and then he opened the big envelope. He pulled out a typed up letter which was folded around a few photos that slid onto his lap. Then he started to read.
Dear United States Naval Aviator,
First of all, thank you for your service. Second, let us introduce ourselves. We are one of the fourth grade classes from Mira Mesa Elementary School, and we have been learning all about aviation for the last month or so. We have combined our science, math and social studies classes into one unit all about flying, and we have learned so much. We really wanted to share some of what we learned with you in the hopes that you might be able to help us learn even more!
Each student in the class has included a letter filled with information and some questions. If you have some free time and are inclined to do so, we would love to hear back from you. (No pressure!) There are plenty of thoughtful questions that my students would appreciate more information about. (Once again, only if you want to!) And I for one would love to give them the chance to show off what they learned to a professional. (I'm just a proud teacher!)
Thank you very much for indulging our curiosity thus far, and we hope to hear back from you. I'll include my email address just in case you have any questions or would prefer to reply that way. Otherwise you can send mail directly to the address for the school along with my name, and it will get to us. We hope we are about to dazzle you with our letters, and we wish you well on your deployment.
Sincerely,
The best fourth graders you will ever meet along with their teacher
Bradley was chuckling as he finished reading. Of course he would take the time to look at all of the notes from the kids and send back a response. It wasn't like he'd be tied up talking to Vanessa. This little project would keep him busy when he had nothing else to do, and besides, this was the kind of shit he would have thought was outlandishly cool when he was a fourth grader himself.
He read and reread the name and accompanying email address at the bottom of the page. This teacher sounded charming, and he'd only read three paragraphs from her. He flipped the page over to double check that she hadn't written anything more, already wishing she had. Then he picked up the photos that had landed on his thigh and started to flip through them.
First he saw a group of kids outside in the bright San Diego sunlight, lined up and throwing paper airplanes. Then he flipped to one where some of the kids were sitting at their desks building more elaborate planes out of pieces of foam. There was another photo of the class on some sort of field trip, but it was the last photo in the stack that had him sitting up a little taller and taking a closer look.
"Damn."
The kids were all lined up once again, wearing a rainbow of colors, some making silly faces. But his eyes caught on their teacher. On you. Smiling back at him from the photo like you had an amusing secret. Like you wanted to share it with him.
"Fucking gorgeous."
----------------------
And, we're off. Oh, he thinks we are cute. Oh, he is about to be charmed even more. Thanks for pushing me out of my comfort zone a little bit with this one, and thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 2
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