#sometimes you'll have to make hard choices

[slvttyplum]

toji taught you how to ride dick and how to ride it good, to the point where his toes were curling, his eyes were rolling to the top of his eyelids, and his hands were gripped onto your ass for dear life. 

once you were on top, you couldn’t stop; his mouth would get dry and his hands would get sweaty as he watched your every move, waiting for you to do something. first you’ll tease him and slowly slide yourself up and down on him, and when he's caught off guard, you'll quicken the pace. 

his eyes fluttering as he tries to catch up to you, but at that time he was already going to finish. he hated when you were on, but he loved how it made him feel. how your pussy felt sliding up and down on him as he tried to keep his moans to a minimum, but you knew how good it made him feel and how he needed a break from beating your pussy in from the back, so this was the next best choice. 

at first, you were nervous to get on top because you didn’t know what you were doing, but toji changed that around real quick and taught you. telling you how to move your hips and to keep your feet planted and not to slam down on him too hard, the whole course, and just like that, you learned how to ride him so well that he was whimpering. 

his hands changing from your hips to your ass every second to see which was more stable for him to keep his hands on, deciding to just keep his hands on your ass because it felt better. 

sometimes you would get carried away though, your hands planted on his shoulders, and you started to slam down on his harder, the tip of his dick touching your sweet each time, making your stomach cave in and your stomach swarm with butterflies.

“slow… go slow.” trying to tell you to slow the fuck down, but you were worried about finishing on his dick, toji was way ahead of you when you felt his cum leak into you and slide down your aching core, slamming back into you. this was the quickest way to make him cum, if you were bouncing up and down on him for a minute, then just know he was going to cum in the next one. 

that’s what makes him so cute sometimes; he just couldn’t resist you even if he wanted to, his eyes going dark whenever you leaned down to give him a kiss, his cum leaking into you over and over again. 

mr. tough guy that finished in under five minutes whenever you were bouncing up and down on him while he held his breath, trying to focus on anything and everything else. there was something about that position that made him want to finish inside of you and not apologize or have any regrets about it. it’s like you were tighter whenever you were tight, wrapped around him as you slid up and down quickly, giving him no time to react. 

if he didn’t have time to react, he would whimper under you, your hand sliding on his face and your lips on his giving him a peck as you go faster. toji would even beg you not to go fast so that he could have the mental strength to at least try not to cum from you bouncing up and down on him, but you never listened. that's what made riding him fun. 

since he taught you how to ride him, what better way to pay him back than to make him cum from just that? and he hated that you reminded him of that. he should’ve just kept you in the dark about how to ride him, but then he wouldn’t have you wrapped around him like you are now; he just hated how he reacted to your every touch. 

“fuck… baby, just slow it down, please.” words that would usually never come out of his mouth slipped out when his cum was inching towards the tip of his dick. he was begging you to slow down, and even though it was cute, you just couldn’t give him what he wanted. this was a sight you barely got to see, so you tried to milk him out as much as you could while you were on top of him. 

the results were stunning. 

his cum leaking out of you every time you bounced on him, fucking his cum deep inside of you while more poured out of him. 

one time tears were pouring out of his eyes form how good you were riding him. he didn’t even want you to stop until he noticed that tears were sliding down his cheeks. even though he wanted you to stop, you didn’t. 

and so you kept going until your legs were giving out and weak, his chest rising and falling as he blabbered to himself how much he hated you but what he actually meant was. 

“i love you so much.”

[myfandomrealitea]

I know there's a lot of advice for handling things like depression and its so fucking easy for people to say "just do this and you'll feel better!" and I hate that, I fucking despise it, but I'm also gonna throw in my two cents about what is personally helping me get out of bed some days and genuinely, not kill myself.

Its taking care of nature.

Seriously. It sounds stupid and some days it feels stupid, but I put up bird feeders because I live in a semi-rural area where human activity is decimating the local bird population and options for safe feeding. So I put up bird feeders. And now I have like 83 different birds flocking to my garden on the daily and screaming at my window if the feeders are empty. And I've seen generations of baby birds brought to my garden by their parents because this is where the food is.

And I researched what plants and flowers were native to my area and I spent like $5 on a few different seed packets and sprinkled them around the grass and the sad empty flowerbeds and the lawn because the bees have nothing to eat and that's awful and it turns out wildflowers will fucking GROW the moment you look away, but now every spring and summer my lawn is a pretty little multi-colored bug haven.

And I've even gotten the chance to save a few little bug lives because of it. I've taken in cold-shocked bees and given them a warm little tupperware to recover in. I've fed bugs sugar water to get their energy back to take their food home. I've given dying bugs a sheltered, safe place to spend their last moments.

I planted a veggie garden. And I know I'm very lucky in that I have the space to do that, but also, you can grow a lot of things indoors. My friend has literally the smallest apartment you can imagine but she grows chives in her bathroom and grows five radishes at a time in a pot in the kitchen. Literally five. But it makes her so happy every single time she pulls them up or trots off to the bathroom to snip some chives.

I pick trash up every two weeks. The pick stick was like $4 online and I just put the bag out with my bi-weekly trash pick-up and its disgusting but but nobody else is gonna do it and I've only got finite time on this earth. If nobody else is going to pick up that can, I will. Because some innocent wild animal doesn't deserve to get hurt by human ignorance, and I deserve to walk home and see pretty flourishing nature instead of depressing discarded trash like I feel like most days.

I've left water out for the wildlife and watched hedgehogs, local dogs on their walks, squirrels and all sorts stop by to take a drink, because humans are fucking selfish and we're making something as basic as water so hard to access for anyone but ourselves, but I can fix a little bit of that just by putting out a bowl. Sometimes I don't even have to remember to fill it because the rain will fill it for me, and its kind of like nature's way of saying "you're helping me so I'm going to help you out too." Which is neat.

Like most days I do not want to be living on this earth but my god earth did not get a choice about us living here, and we're ruining it, and it actually feels so good to help stop and un-do a little bit of that destruction.

And you don't even have to try everything I do. If the only thing you've got the spoons to do is buy one bird feeder and you only remember to fill it once a month, its still something. That once a month could mean the difference between starvation and a full belly to a bird.

Again, none of this is obligatory and I'm not saying at all this is some magical cure for depression, but personally these things are things which are helping me slowly find things to keep getting out of bed for and things to feel a sense of self worth and satisfaction over. I feel better both in and about myself when I feed the birds, when I see the bugs in the garden, when I pick up the trash.

If its something you haven't considered yet, it might be worth a try.

[yanderestarangel]

HEADCANONS JKK | DILF!NANAMI KENTO

A/N: It was very strange writing this to the sound of "snowy", sometimes I question my musical choices for inspiration ╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯

TW: afab anatomy, ftm reader, fluff, soft!dom nanami, hard!dom nanami, gentle sex, rough sex, v!sex, fingering, praise, body worship, age gap, vulnerable!kink, degradation, daddykink, eat out, mild bdsm.

♡ SFW :

He is a man so tired of the life of working and being a wizard at the same time that he just needs a release. You are his younger partner, a few years younger than the forty-year-old man. He was afraid at the beginning of the relationship because he didn't think he was as attractive as men his age, but as time went by he saw how much you loved that he was older than you, there was a charm in every dark circle cold expression on his frown that was too sexy in your eyes.

You'll also have to keep him updated on things that happen in your social circle ── he doesn't really mind but seeing you smile and talk so excitedly about a certain topic also makes him happy and much more relaxed from the daily routine. He doesn't understand half of the slang you and Gojo say when you get together, but he doesn't mind at all (just don't call him 'boomer' Satoru already does that a lot and it gets on the blonde's nerves.)

He likes to be greeted by you when he gets home. It may be a simple gesture but it fills your chest with a warm and fulfilling feeling as he kisses you on the top of your head, smelling you while an almost invisible smile appears on his tired face. "Did you behave while I was gone baby?" Nanami spoke with a hoarse and low voice, listening attentively to you about your day while smiling when he saw that at least his daily effort was worth it because it could give you a more tolerable and comfortable life. Even though he was tired, he would help you with dinner, lightly rambling about how tiring his day was and what you could do at the weekend.

If you mention that you saw something you liked in a store, Nanami will immediately write down the address and go buy what you want ── even if he works extra hours to pay all the installments, your smile is more important to him. "All for my boy right?" He would speak in a calming voice to your nerves, while his fingers tilted on your shoulder as a gesture of tender affection coming from the older man.

♡ NSFW :

The first few times you two fuck he will be a gentleman to you ── calling you "my sweet", "pretty little thing", "darling", "prince", "pretty boy"; talking about how your moans are the most beautiful thing he has heard. "Keep moaning boy... I want to hear everything from you." "What a beautiful voice you have, moan my name darling and let me hear more, say my name when you cum ok?" These would be some of the several phrases that Nanami would say while inserting two thick fingers into your swollen and wet pussy from the exaggerated stimulation he would do to your body.

He likes to eat out you, seeing you tremble and suffocate him between your soft thighs makes the blonde's cock practically cum without even entering you. He sucks your clit running his tongue in circles while his calloused hands keep your legs wide open for his warm ministrations ── Kento will whisper praises against your pussy making you shiver with each vibration welcome to your sensitive flesh. The blonde finds it cute the way you rub your hips desperately against his lips, making him place kisses on your abdomen and connect your lips, separating the kiss seconds later and looking directly into your eyes, watery with pleasure.

"Looks like you're in a hurry boy... Come on, come and ride my face, don't worry about your weight I can really handle it." Nanami moaned as he watched you obey his request and sat gently on his face ── your sweet smell and wet juices, the sound of your voice begging him 'not to stop' was like heaven to him. Nanami just wanted to make you ready for his cock.

When you reach your second orgasm of the night ─ crying and turning into a beautiful, stimulated mess for him, Nanami will finally shove his cock in your little pussy, moaning hoarsely and privately in your ear. "You can handle this, can't you little boy? You're going to cum on my dick again." Kento would groan, hands resting on the sides of your head on the mattress as he looked directly at every reaction you gave him ── from your breasts bouncing with each thrust of his hips, to the sight of your open mouth salivating and smearing your sheets, until your wet hole sucking his cock back into your throbbing heat. "Desperate to get fucked but too shy to do anything about it... my pretty little angel can't do anything but blush. Do you love my cock in you so much?" He smiled, as he accelerated his movements, intertwining your hand with his, feeling his balls hit your ass, making a slow, lazy wet noise.

However, if you want him to be rude and take out all the anger and stress on your body, Kento will do it with all the strength he has suppressed for years. Tying you with his tie and gagging your mouth with your own underwear ── you are not allowed to speak or ask for anything, at that moment you are his personal toy.

You saw Nanami's veins stand out from his forehead, neck and arms as he approached the edge of the bed, roughly opening your thighs ── your once gentle and sweet boyfriend gave way to a sadistic and cold dominator. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw your little fucked face just looking at him ── dazed and shaking, your pussy milking the air as he slapped your thigh hard, going to squeeze your breasts as you moaned against the fabric and tasted it of your own humidity. "That's what you get for being such a good boy." His voice was serious, as you watched him take the panties out of your mouth and take his cock out of his pants.

Kento would also have vulnerable!kink, meaning you will be totally naked while he will be clothed yet just taking his member out of his clothes and fucking you ── completely trapped by the weight of his body, gripping the sheets and whimpering as he pounds into your cunt, treating you like a personal cum dump. He would be rude and say the most vulgar things you had ever heard from anyone, the gentleman in him was gone with every thrust he made on your body. "You're nothing more than a pathetic cum dumpster," he hissed, his voice filled with biting contempt. "Do you like being degraded, my obedient whore?" he taunted, a sadistic gleam in his eyes.

He would fuck you to the point where you couldn't feel your legs anymore. With final painful strokes he breeds your pussy as he watches you cry his name. "shh... I got you boy, you were a good boy for daddy ok?" He spoke, returning to normal, holding your trembling body. After the rough treatment, you will be looked after like a prince by him ─ he will clean your body by giving you hot kisses on your face and offering you water. Kento would take you to the bathroom and clean up the traces of sex, while stroking your hair. "Sleep now, honey, I'll be here when you wake up." You knew he would be there like he promised.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

[cleo-fox]

Daylight

Summary: Despite your best efforts, Sunday morning doesn’t go as planned…and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, shower sex, fingering, vaginal sex, soft sex, sex that causes you to be several hours late for work, Loki being a (respectful) horn dog.

Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this yet, but the first fic is here). A/N: This started out as a scene in Overtime that kind of took on a life of its own. You don't necessarily need to read Overtime in order to enjoy or understand this fic, but you'll have more context if you do. Anyway, it was fun revisiting these two idiots--I've got a few more ideas for them up my sleeve, so there will be more in this series at some point.

The sunlight wakes you the next morning.

It’s the same sunlight as always, but it looks different coming through Loki’s window and streaming across his bed. It looks better, you think, splashed across his sheets.

Or maybe it’s the addition of your hand clasped with his resting on those same sheets. Or perhaps it’s the sight of your clothes and his, discarded on the bedroom floor in a pool of sunlight, combined with the fact that you’re still wrapped in his arms. Maybe all of that is why it seems better.

That seems more likely.

You lie still for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of his arms and the heat of his skin against your bare back. You are reasonably certain he’s asleep from the steady rhythm of his breath on your neck, but you’re not about to disturb the sleepy calm of the morning to confirm that. 

The clock on his bedside table says it’s just after six. Before last night, you would have said that this was a reasonable time to get up—early enough to ensure that you’re in the office by eight, which would hopefully give you enough time to meet this evening’s deadline, but not so early that it makes you question your life and your choices.

But that was before. Now…well. You suddenly find that your priorities look very different from the comfort of Loki’s bed.

You decide that you didn’t really see the clock. Neither one of you thought to set an alarm last night. Sleeping in was inevitable. That’s not your fault. No harm, no foul.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into a light doze, warmed by the sunlight and Loki’s embrace.

Sometime later, you’re woken by the soft brush of a kiss against your neck.

“Did you sleep well?” he murmurs against your neck.

“Yes, though I did have a bit of a late night,” you say. “Someone kept me up.”

“Really? That was rude of him.”

“Very.”

He’s noticeably—achingly—hard. His lips brush against your neck again. “Perhaps he might make it up to you?”

Your intention is to open your eyes, roll over, and allow yourself to be ravished. But in a development you can only describe as tragic, you happen to catch sight of the clock on his nightstand.

7:38 am.

“Shit,” you say. “It’s almost eight.”

Loki is predictably unconcerned about this. “We don’t have any official hours to keep,” he says, his hand skimming along your ribs and down the curve of your waist. “We have all day.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got a ton more to do,” you say, trying to ignore how good he is at kissing your neck or how his hand is drifting down your hip toward the aching pulse between your legs. “We really need every minute.”

“That is true,” he says solemnly. “Perhaps we ought shower together to save time.”

You can’t help but smile. “I kind of feel like you have another agenda.”

“I’d never,” he says.

“The raging hard on pressing against my ass would suggest otherwise.”

You can almost hear him smirk as he gives his hips a teasing little thrust against you. “I contain multitudes.”

You wiggle out of his embrace and slip out of bed. You intend to look back and give him a coquettish look and say something sharp and teasing, but instead, the sight of him takes your breath away. He leans back on his elbows, looking everything like the sort of lounging god you would see depicted in marble at the Parthenon, all chiseled, sharp muscles and clean lines. His cock stands fully erect and deliciously thick, flushed with wanting.

“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t reject the offer,” he says, seemingly fully aware of the path of your gaze. His hand drops to his cock and he strokes himself casually, which very nearly sends your sprinting back to bed.

“You’re right,” you say, trying to keep your cool as you throw him your most beguiling look. “So you should probably hurry up.”

You turn and start walking toward the master bathroom. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he’s following you, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of skin, eyes dark with purpose.

You walk into the master bathroom and are immediately confronted by several flagrant violations of the residential handbook. The TVA is many things, but it is not the sort of place that deviates from set floor plans, nor is it the sort of place that deviates from those plans to install a rainfall shower and soaking tub—in marble, no less.

You think of the stark, vaguely institutional aesthetic in your own master bath and you can’t decide if you’re annoyed at his rule breaking or jealous that he could get away with it.

“I’m not even going to ask if you got approval for this setup because I know you didn’t,” you say as you reach in to the shower to turn on the tap.

“Do you think of anything other than that cursed personnel manual?” he asks as he comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and his lips again finding your neck as he draws you to him.

“First of all, it’s not the personnel manual, it’s the residential handbook, which you specifically agreed to abide by when you signed off on your lease.”

He turns you around so you face him and draws you close, a wicked gleam in his eye, “Oh, I’m going to make you forget all about those ridiculous rules.”

“That’s a pretty tall order—oh.”

His hand is slipping between your legs, stroking your already slick folds.

“I think I’m quite capable of inspiring other passions,” he says, rolling his fingers in a broad circle over the hood of your clit

You loop your arms around his shoulders. You can already feel your knees starting to tremble, but you know he won’t let you fall.

“Bold claim,” you say, “I’m going to need more evidence.”

“Oh, you’re going to get a lot of evidence,” he says softly. He curls a finger inside of you, pressing his thumb against the hood of your clit. “You will have no doubts by the time I’m done presenting my argument. You will be weak-kneed with evidence.”

You shudder as he rocks his hand slowly. He’s touching you enough to stoke the flames of desire, making your hips rock helplessly toward his hand as you try to create that extra friction and pressure that you know will send you flying over the edge. But Loki is meticulous—perhaps even ruthless—about not giving in. 

“Not yet,” he murmurs softly when your latest attempt is thwarted. “Slowly.”

Your pleas become louder and more frequent, but his answer remains the same: slowly. You whimper and beg, but he is resolute.

Steam has fogged up the mirrors and is curling around you when your orgasm finally begins to crest. You suddenly find yourself grateful for his pacing as the intensity builds to a level that makes your knees shake.

“That’s it,” he breathes as you tremble in his arms. “You can come for me now, lovely.”

Like magic, the coil inside you snaps at his command and you cry out as your cunt shudders around his slowly thrusting fingers. Your arms looped around his shoulders are the only thing keeping you standing.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as you sag against him. “Beautiful.”

He gives you a moment to get your bearings before leading you into the shower. He sits down on the marble bench, spreading his thighs wide and pulling you into his lap so you straddle his hips. The spray of the water hits your back as he kisses you again, slow and hungry.

You love everything about this. The heat of the water on your back. The closeness. The way his thighs are spread wide. How his cock presses against your bare cunt. The noise he makes low in his throat when you start rubbing yourself against him.

“Need you,” he mumbles against your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and you reach between the two of you to line his cock up at your entrance.

It occurs to you that you could take the opportunity to tease him, to make him beg for you, but pretending that you have any control over your aching need for him is several degrees beyond impossible. So instead, you slowly ease yourself down onto his cock while he groans against your neck, dragging his lips down to the curve of your shoulder.

The feeling of him inside you is still so new that it feels just a little unreal. After all that wanting and yearning and thinking that he was too handsome, too divine, too out of reach to have, he’s suddenly yours and it’s absolutely dizzying. 

You pause for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of unyielding fullness, of connection. Of him.

“All right?” he asks softly.

You open your eyes and his look of sweet concern makes your heart swell. “Yeah,” you say, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “I just—I needed a moment. You feel—” You pause for a moment, searching for the right words, sifting through the effusive and flowery and the things that are true but too early to say. “You just feel really good,” you say.

It sounds wildly inadequate, but he seems to understand, to hear all of the unsaid parts that you’re keeping close to your heart. He could turn away, say it’s too much too soon, that you haven’t even said what you are yet, much less committed to anything serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward, drawing you into a slow kiss, his hands framing your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw with the kind of reverence that makes you want to say everything you feel.

“You’re perfect.” He says it in between breaths, with such a disarming sincerity that you can’t bring yourself to try and deflect, to name a flaw or even make a joke.

Later, he will tell you that he was struggling with a similar battle, trying to reconcile how new this was with the depth of feeling that was already blossoming in his chest. He will tell you later that he couldn’t believe you were his, just as you couldn’t believe he was yours, that there was something about you that felt right in a way that made him feel like he knew even then.

But right now, he simply kisses you with a fervor that makes your toes curl and your hips start to move.

It’s only the second time that you’ve done this, but there’s a strange blend of both the new and the familiar. The shape and feel of his body pressed against yours is new, but the way that he moves, the way that he touches you is as though he’s loved you for centuries.

The rhythm you fall into is slow, despite the excuse that this shower was to save time. His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit to add another layer of bliss to the feeling of his cock inside you. Despite your slow pace, your ascent rushes in fast and brilliant as a comet blazing through the night sky. Your back arches, almost as though you’re presenting yourself as an offering to him as you come undone in his arms. Loki watches you with a kind of breathless wonder, brow furrowing in pleasure, his lower lip caught between his teeth at the tight clench of your cunt around his cock.

Your legs are rubbery with pleasure, but you keep going because you need his release as much as your own. You need to feel him empty himself inside of you, to hear the low groan he makes as he unravels, to see the way his eyes flutter shut. You want crescent moon marks on your hips from where his hands gripped you too tightly in that final ascent, physical proof that you can make not just a god forget himself, but Loki specifically. Loki with all his masks and tricks and artful poise; Loki laid bare below you, free from all artifice and glibness, raw and real and just as he is. All the parts of him that make you think that down this path lies something wonderful (not that you’re ready to call it love. Yet).

But Loki is nothing if not predictably unpredictable and he seems determined to make you work before granting you that little glimpse at the heaven that is the god of mischief coming undone beneath you.

“Let me feel you come again,” he murmurs as soon as you catch your breath.

“Is once not enough?” you say, trying and failing to sound cool and calm, like you’re not completely wrecked for him.

“Hardly.” His eyes flash in a way that makes you shiver as he urges your hips into a faster rhythm. “I am not so easily satisfied when my need has been so great.”

You can feel the coil in your hips beginning to tighten again.

“I’ve burned for you for years, my love,” he says, his voice going a little shaky. “Would you deny water to a man dying of thirst?”

You shake your head, your words lost to the oncoming wave of your undoing.

“Then do not deny me your pleasure, I am desperate for you.” He’s panting, barely holding on to his composure. “Now come for me again, let me feel you.”

You are so far gone that it only takes a few more strokes to make you come undone and the first shudder of your climax takes Loki with you.

You savor his pleasure more than your own release, memorizing the sound he makes, the way his lips form a silent plea in the shape of your name until he slides a hand up your neck and pulls you down to kiss him.

His kiss is fierce and hungry at first, but it ebbs to something slower and sweeter as he empties himself into you. He sighs as you tangle your fingers in the wet tendrils of his hair.

It’s a long moment later when you finally break the kiss, resting your forehead against his.

“I don’t think we saved any time,” you say.

He doesn’t even open his eyes. “I cannot overemphasize how much I do not care about being late in these circumstances.”

You grin. “Not even a little?”

He kisses you sweetly on the mouth before opening his eyes, his lips curling into a slow and satisfied smile. “I would be late every day for the rest of my life for just a few seconds of that.”

His words spark something warm in your chest and you try to hide it with a wry look. “I’m not sure that you’re getting the better end of the deal.”

He kisses you softly. “You don’t know how good you feel.”

“You’re one to talk,” you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he deepens the kiss.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of him smiling as he kisses you is a kind of luxury you’ve never imagined. It takes you a while to untangle yourselves, but you can’t find it in yourself to move any faster.

The actual showering part of your shower is slow and unhurried and you find that Loki’s hands are equally gifted at these mundane tasks. His fingers have a knack for finding every stubborn knot in your neck and shoulders, which he explores leisurely under the pretext of washing your back. The press of his fingers unwinds the tension in your shoulders, loosening up muscles that have been too tense for too long.

“You are way too good at this,” you say.

“Just one of my many talents,” he says, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “Though perhaps I ought to stop—I wouldn’t want to make you late.”

“I’m so relaxed I’m going to ignore that little bit of sass.”

He chuckles against your shoulder. “You’ll forgive me.”

“We’ll see.”

The sweet, almost chaste kisses he’s been pressing against your neck and shoulders are gradually growing slower, more insistent. When you feel the tip of his tongue draw a quick, teasing line on your neck, you know that you might be in trouble.

His hands slide to your waist, drawing you close enough that you can feel that he’s hard again. 

“I’m sensing some ulterior motives,” you say.

“A bold accusation,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing himself more firmly against you.

“We can’t have sex again,” you laugh.

“Mmm, we could,” he says in between kisses. “There’s nothing stopping us from having sex again.”

“We are already running late—”

“I thought I was very clear about my feelings on timeliness in these circumstances.” He nips at your earlobe and you shiver. “And would you really deprive me of the utter bliss of coming undone inside you?”

“It’s more like rescheduling than depriving you of anything.”

“I’ve waited so long, darling.”

“We just had sex like…less than an hour ago,” you say through a laugh.

“Ah, but the days before that were so terribly long,” he says.

You turn to face him, thinking this will make things easier for you. This turns out to be a grave miscalculation because now you have to contend with the fire in his eyes and the twin flame that it summons low in your hips.

Fuck. 

You are definitely going to have sex again.

His eyes glitter like he knows and he slowly walks you backwards until you’re pressed between him and the shower wall.

“You are absolutely incorrigible,” you say as he peppers your neck with slow, decadent kisses. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“Funnily enough, I don’t think you’ll be complaining about my mouth in about thirty seconds.”

And with a wicked and hungry grin, he slowly sinks to his knees.

It’s 10:48am when you finally walk into the office.

Even though you are now several hours later than you intended and the stack of files is no less imposing, you feel nothing but a pleasant glow of happiness as you take your seat. Loki sits down in the chair next to you and this time, he sneaks his foot underneath your desk and hooks his ankle under yours.

He catches your eye and smiles. “I can be a little more obvious now.”

You put on your most exaggerated expression of mock seriousness. “Only a little. This is a workplace, after all.”

He adopts a similar expression and nods. “Of course. I imagine there will be paperwork as well.”

“There actually is a form we’ll need to file with HR,” you say.

Loki frowns. “Wait, you’re not being serious about that, are you?”

“Yep. We’ll need to file it by next Friday.”

He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “Is there anything that this place hasn’t managed to weigh down with the burden of unnecessary bureaucracy?”

“I see we’re in a good mood this morning.” Mobius has arrived, cup of coffee in hand. He nods at Loki and looks at you. ��How long has he been raging against the machine?”

“Not terribly long,” you say as Loki rolls his eyes.

“It’s not raging against anything,” he says. “I just fail to see the point of some of this organization’s operational practices.”

Mobius raises an eyebrow at you. “You told him he has to fill out a form, huh?”

“Got it in one,” you say as Loki scowls.

Mobius chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. “You should hear him during performance evaluation season. I get entire monologues. It’s like Hamlet meets HR.”

Loki’s scowl deepens and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order not to laugh.

“It looks like you made good progress, though,” says Mobius, looking at your completed stacks of files. “I took a look at what you pulled earlier this morning and there’s some good stuff.”

“Oh, good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think much of the fact that neither one of you was in the office earlier this morning. “What time do you think you’ll need the rest done?”

“Right, about that,” says Mobius. You steel yourself for bad news. “I took a look at what you pulled so far and I think I’ve got what I need.”

You blink at him. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, you’re off the hook,” he says. “Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

You look at Loki, who looks just as pleasantly surprised as you feel.

“In fact, you can take the rest of the week off,” says Mobius. “Triple overtime, right? You earned the time.” 

“This feels like a trick,” says Loki. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” says Mobius. “You did good work.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “However—”

“And there’s the catch,” says Loki.

“There’s no catch,” says Mobius. He gestures at you with his coffee cup. “I’m just going to need you both to turn in the relevant paperwork to HR by next Friday.”

Loki sighs, though you can tell he’s fighting a smile. “There’s absolutely no privacy here.”

Mobius raises his eyebrows. “You’re playing footsie under the desk. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

You look at Loki and shrug. “He’s got a point.”

“You’re taking his side?”

You roll your eyes and stand up. “Well, you can sulk about it if you’d like, but I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my weekend.” You share a sly, secret smile with Mobius. “I’ll see you next week, Mobius.”

It takes Loki approximately twenty seconds to catch up with you.

“And you say I’m incorrigible,” he says as he falls into step beside you.

You smile at him. “I think you’ll get over it.”

“I’ll consider it.” He catches your band, fingers twining with yours. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”

“Hadn’t decided,” you say, biting back a smile. “Did you have any suggestions?”

“Well, I’d like to start by going back to bed.”

“To sleep?” you tease. 

“Eventually.” He licks his lips. “And since our respective schedules have been cleared for the week, we’ll be able to take our time.”

The hunger in his eyes is still so new and intoxicating that you can’t help the shiver that works its way up your spine.

You give him a slow smile. “Lead the way.”

[sxorpiomooon]

What does your older self wants to say to you? A pac reading<3

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check out my other pacs and astrology stuff!!

Pile 1-

you need to let go, this is so funny to me given the pile that you guys have chosen has a tattoo of "amor fati" which literally means this. If you've chosen this pile you might have an anxious attachment and some of you need to go off a relationship that you are holding. A japanese song is playing in my head? Sometimes you only hold onto things very tightly because deep down you know that the moment you let go they are going to leave you. Your older self wants you to let go of such relations one particular scenario that I'm getting is of someone being in a toxic relationship being completely dependent on their significant others knowing that the other person might not choose to stay with them once they let go or once they are given the choice to do so. Stop being dependent on people and allow them and give them the space for them to leave you if they wish to do so the only way to understand how much they love is by giving them the space to leave then only you know that they truly do love you. The other people in this pile need to know that all relations require space and time for both individuals to grow individually too. Only when you have enough space and time to grow individually you can contribute something to the relation. Some of you might have ashlesha nakshatra. Also take care of yourself by yourself your older self really wants you to take care of your hair lmao I keep hearing "wash up wash up" I'm also seeing fishes for some reason those orange ones I don't know what they're called? You might love them now or definitely own them in the future. Your older self also wants you to know that the cycle ends with you. Breaking off from the generation trauma cycle seems to be a very important theme here. I see y'all are already very cool but are even cooler in the future man I'm not gonna lie I also keep hearing alt for some reason whether it's for songs or fashion but y'all are gonna be fucking cool in the future man. Be resilient I have full faith in you pile 1 do it for the super cool you. I also see this pile moving out of this house if they haven't alr I keep getting japan again and again but y'all gonna live a pretty great lifestyle also reminded of lucky from the blue sisters novel? Thankyou!!

Pile 2-

this pile might have the tendency to overreact at that exact moment when they are faced with a problem. Their emotions at times might make it hard for them to actually get a good grasp on the situation. Your older self wants you to learn to differentiate between illusion and intuition lmao. I also had a vision of someone journaling so I think the older self might want you guys to write it down before reacting or coming to a conclusion on any sort of situation. I also think that writing it down might make it easy or better for you to feel and understand your emotions better and the problem as well. This pile also needs to focus on their unconscious mind? If you are manifesting something you might have some biases already that you need to pay attention to. This pile might also easily interpret things and get confused. Your older self wants you to follow your heart I heard "it will lead you to the right path" and right after this "sometimes to run is the brave thing" played in my head from its time to go by Taylor swift. You need to act on whatever feelings you have some of you might write and be confused about whether it's good or not or some confusion related to it here's your answer- it is<3 go ahead and follow your heart pile two it will never lead you to the wrong path in the long end. I also heard "beauty and art is everywhere" this pile needs to follow their passion. Lord this is ending on such a good note. Your older self also wants you to know that you should not fear bc all your hardwork will pay off<3 all your hardwork and sacrifices will pay off and you'll get the success that you desire and want. This was also a pile that I chose and I needed to hear this<3

Pile 3-

The time or whatever you are going through will not be wasted. The journey is there to prepare you and give you the experiences that you need to get to the level that you want to achieve in your life. This pile might be going through some hard things. This pile also needs to know that you cannot force anyone to grow early or to change early or hurry up some process everything has its own time be patient a delay does not mean a no. This pile also needs to come face to face with their problems and fear only then they'll be able to move past it. "The only way out is through" "change is the only constant thing in life" "no one else can do it for you" are the things that I'm hearing. This pile knows what's needed to be done but might fear the unknown. A big transformation that is much needed is coming after that I see a wonderful new beginning for you<3

thankyou!!

[our-trans-punk-experience]

THE BATTLE JACKET MASTERPOST

FINALLY PUNKS IT'S HERE

a battle jacket (also called battle vest, cut-off, punk jacket, patch jacket, and probably other stuff) is a jacket (duh) usually made from denim or leather with DIY additions of patches, studs, flags, painted panels, chains, and other bonuses, used to signify subculture. Punk, metal, and biker scenes all use patch jackets, but I'll only go into specifics about how they're used in the punk scene. Metalheads, I think, almost solely personalise with music/band shit. Bikers use them to signifying which club you're riding with. Punks started using them in the 70s and they've remained a staple of the subculture's style since. They're good for signalling your politics, bands you like, and other information you might want to get across. They also look cool.

HOW TO START

If you're here I assume you wanna learn how to make your own so I'll cut the history lesson short and get on to the practicals.

1: first you're going to want to get a plain jacket, probably denim or leather, but you could get a canvas jacket if you're nervous and new to the scene because it's way easier to stitch canvas, so you could experiment with that as you're building confidence. The jacket should be at least a bit oversized because with all the stitching and painting or whatever you'll be doing, you could run into fit issues with a very form fitting jacket. also, this jacket might frequently be worn over other jackets or layers so that will help with that too

2: start making choices. namely whether you want to keep the sleeves. obviously you can remove or reattatch the sleeves later but I think making that big mod first is a good starting point to help you feel like it's a work in progress. so if you're going to chop the sleeves I say do it now

3: brainstorm. I know, I know, coming up with your own ideas is hard, but this is your own totally literally unique piece, so think about what sorta look you want

4: you don't have to brainstorm alone though. search tumblr or pinterest for punk jackets, punk patches, punk clothes ect for inspiration. you might get a good idea for an individual patch, or for a broader layout

PATCHES

1: the big deal. this is what will make your jacket into a battle jacket. there are some unofficial rules/sayings in the scene about what sort of patches you should put on your jacket. some people get dickish sometimes about if you put a non-punk band on your jacket? however i think that is bollocks and you should do whatever you want forever. one saying i do personally mostly stick to is "politics up front, bands on the back" with the idea you stick your politics on your front so you can see the punches coming

2: where do you get the patches? you make them yourself. You can buy ofc but don't get shit off amazon or shein or whatever the fuck. If your fav band or small artist is selling patches go for it though. You will have the most choice if you make your own patches. Do you have scrap fabric (maybe the sleeves of the jacket, which is where i got a lot of my patch material)? Do you have paint and paintbrush? good. you can make a patch

3: how do you do that? well depends on whether you stencil or freehand. stencil means you cut out an outline, of say a band logo, out of card, and use that as a stencil. freehand means you paint whatever tf you like

4: paint?? yes paint. messy as you like. start maybe with simple slogans or symbols often found in the punk scene like "ACAB" or "eat the rich". maybe an anarchy symbol. i also like to paint a layer of mod podge over my designs to waterproof them.

5: great, you've got a patch, what are you going to do with it? sew it onto the jacket. unless ofc you bought an iron-on in step 2, in which case iron that shit on and be careful punks. most likely though, you're sewing it on. a lot of punks use tooth floss to sew on because its cheaper, easier to find, readily waxed and waterproof, and does a better job sewing shit down onto heavy duty material like leather or denim. I use a combined running stitch and whip stitch personally

STUDS n SPIKES

1: all those punks you've seen have metal sticking out their jacket eh? yeah, theres a whole lot of options here. spikes of many different sizes and shapes, which within that can be stitch on, screwback, or have fold down prongs on the back of them

2: where do you put them? probably the front or top of the jacket. you can put them on the back but that might be uncomfortable, or rip up someone's upholstery

3: where do you get them? you can still DIY these by cutting up a metal drinks can [whole other post] but BE CAREFUL. i suggest checking out the internet for these, same buying rules as patches though. no shein. no amazon.

OTHER SHIT??

1: go wild

2: other common additions would be chains, lighter caps, badges, and can tabs

HAVE FUN PLS ASK ME QUESTIONS AND SHARE IF YOU START A BATTLE JACKET

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem)

a.n; i blame this completely over the Olympics, again. sorry, but it has me on chokehold and i'm not resisting against it LOL 😜

Okay, hear me out...

Third date with Bakugou Katsuki.

The first one, of course, was very awkward and tense and sometimes even a bit worrisome. We are talking about dating Bakugou Katsuki, the one aggressive and violent Pro Hero that everybody has a hate-love feeling towards for; because the man looks and acts –and can– step on your head and crush it with malicious intent and yet, he's Nº 2 Pro Hero on the ranks and you just know that if he's around, you are completely safe. But he's big and tough and harsh in his talking and walking –how can anyone look that scary by just walking, you're still wondering, but it's real. He's fucking scary.

The second date was way more relaxed. He cooked for you. In his massive penthouse that probably costs more than your annual salary. Yep, morherfucker is rich rich. And you think he deserves it really. After all the troubles he goes through to keep the whole country safe –and even the world–, he completely deserves it. You just forgot how well he does his job to get to be that rich. You don't care about money though. You're dating him because you saw him helping a granny cross the street and that was the cutest thing you ever saw. So, back to the second date, he cooked for you, and damn... now you can say you'll keep dating him because of his food. Man cooks like the gods, like a fucking professional chef of the most expensive restaurant on earth. And also, you noticed how relaxed and in peace he looked in his own environment and he looked. So. Freaking. Attractive. Hot even. He looked just so... deliciously handsome.

So for the third date, and because he picked the second one, this one was of your choice. You decide to go ice skating. And you did not expect what happened at all. 

One would expect that Pro Hero Dynamight, civilian name Bakugou Katsuki, being who he is, would have exceptional balance and even a hidden talent for this. You’re wrong. Everyone is wrong. The second the blades of his skates touched the Ice Rink, he fell. Your eyes opened wide and you definitely were holding back your laugh as he struggled to get himself up by holding the handrail around the rink.

“Need some help?” You asked, getting close to him with no trouble at all. He looked up at you annoyed, struggling so hard to get up and keep his balance that his cheeks turned pink. How. Freaking. Cute. You’re glad that dating the Pro Hero came with its perks –like closing the whole rink just so only you and him are there, enjoying your date on a late wednesday night.

“Shut up. No, I can do it…” He declared, but another fall on his knees made you giggle while sliding backwards and away from him with ease, hands up in surrender. Katsuki looked at you once his stood for the nth time holding the handrail like dear life with a frown on his face, watching you how easy you made it look, “How the fuck are you doing that?”

You giggled again, amused by all of this situation. Sliding back towards him and extending your hands, you said, “Come one, let me help.”

Katsuki buffed but he placed his hands on yours, whole body trembling, barely holding himself up. The image of him sticking his ass up and body bending forward while his feet barely moved made you laugh out loud and he yelled another “shut up!”.

You changed your grip to his forearms and again slid backwards to make him move forward, his legs still trembling and his eyes never leaving the floor. He looked so cute, it made your heart flutter. The smile never left your face as you spoke again, “I used to skate a lot when I was younger. I even prepared myself to compete, but an injury put me out of the game.” 

He immediately looked back at you at your words, “What happened?” He looked curious, but also worried and kind of sad.

You shrugged, “I landed pretty badly over my right leg after a spinning jump once. After that, the shin splints became unbearable and I couldn't continue…” 

He looked down at your leg, watching you move attentively, “Does it hurt now?”

You shook your head and smiled at him, grateful for his worry, “Naah. It would only hurt badly if I tried to skate the way I used to… Guess I demanded a lot of myself back then.”

Katsuki didn’t comment further on, but he kept his attention on your leg. Didn’t that make him even cuter! 

It took you a while –long while– to finally be able to let go of one of his forearms once he was ready on his balance; his other hand still held yours strongly.

Time went by, both of you laughing and smiling while skating around the rink, hand in hand. You’re so happy that you could stand on the ice again. It brought you so many fond memories of when you were a kid. Skating was the only thing that could easily make you smile just because; the wind in your face made you feel free, content. and Katsuki could clearly see that.

For a moment, he got distracted by how beautiful you looked… and he lost his balance again. This time bringing you down with him. He was fast enough though to catch you and make you land over him. Your amused and loud laugh was contagious, so he couldn’t help but smile. He's having fun –even if he knew his body was going to hurt a bit the next day for how many falls he had.

“You’re so clumsy…” You laughed, joking kindly and funny.

“Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you show me what you can do?” His smirk made you suddenly stop laughing. It’s a clear challenge, yet curiosity shined in his eyes.

“Alright, hero… watch and learn,” you helped him stand up and directed him towards the handrail. 

Once he was away from possible harm, Katsuki watched you skate around the rink as if you were flying, gliding around with so much confidence and ease, as if you were made for it. Your hair floating behind you for how fast you were going, dancing beautifully with the air. He was hypnotized. Completely mesmerized by each little form you decided to enlighten him with. He particularly felt fascinated when you decided to spin fast and so many times he couldn’t count how many, then you stopped like it had been nothing and kept gliding around. 

You looked so nice and professional, Katsuki felt a little pang of pity for the world. It would never be able to share how beautifully perfect you looked at the moment.

A few more glides around, until you stopped in a very experienced way right in front of him, a huge smile on your face and a shine on your eyes that were proof of how immensely excited and happy you felt.

Did katsuki say already how fucking beautiful you were?

Just to prove his point, he instantly grabbed your face and kissed you for the very first time.

And fuck, he planned on keep kissing you as much as you would let him.

He let you go for a moment just to say, “That was beautiful… You’re gorgeous.”

You smiled one more time before sliding your arms around his neck to kiss him again. He moved a bit to surround your waist with his arms…

And that’s when he forgot about the handrail and sent you both again towards the floor.

[chocochozi]

The Other Woman.

Pairing : Sanemi Shinazugawa x Hashira! Reader.

Warning : Spoilers for the anime/manga, angst, second choice reader, some fighting

A/N : HIII THANKYOU FOR READINGGG IM SORRY IF ITS HORRIBLE ITS MY FIRST TIME BSNXNZKZ

From the very begining, i always knew that i was just a second choice.

It has always been her it will always be her.

Shinazugawa and me met during our final selection.

He was harsh at first but warmed up to me the next few days together in the Mount Fujikasane. Truth be told, he didn't even want me to stay, i was the one following him around because he was the only one that caught my attention i didn't know why. But something about him just makes me drawn to him.

We fought in the mountain infested with demons side by side. During those times, my then unrequited love for him developed.

Time past by and we were promoted to be Hashiras. Though, it was ashame when Kumeno; the man who helped Shinazugawa and introduced him to a proper trainer, tragically died during both of their encounter with one of the holder of Lower Rank One of the Twelve Kizuki.

There, we met her.

Kanae.

And i can't blame Sanemi for falling for her charms. Shes beautiful, kind, sweet, patient, and has an easy-going personality.

How can i ever compare to her? Im not even close.

Kanae was easy to get along with, after becoming the Ice Hashira, we've sometimes been paired up by Master Ubuyashiki for missions. Therefore, we knew each other quite well.

Seeing the way Sanemi looks at her with heart eyes shatters my heart knowing he loved her, not me. The look in his eyes says it all.

How could I hate her? She's such an angel.

She's perfect where i fail.

"Nemiii~" i whined, impatiently waiting for him to stop training and come with me to eat.

"What?" The white haired man still kept his stance not once even glancing at you.

"C'monnn, you said you'll come with me to the ramen shop near byyy"

Huffing in annoyance, he straighten his body, turning fully to you a defeated expression plastered on his face. "Fine," "Your treat." He added.

"Alright, Let's go!" I grabbed his hands dragging him out then suddenly, Kanae's crow came flying to us informing about the unfortunate event's that led to Kanae's inevitable death.

The news, of course made me upset, she was my friend after all. But Sanemi took the news harder if not, the third hardest after the other two Kocho's. Talking to him seemed impossible after Kanae's death. He avoided me, he avoided everyone. When i try to have a converstation with him, his respond is always just a short answer or a simple hum.

Master Ubuyashiki summoned us two, to inform us about a mission, where we're both paired up. The walk to the place was quiet accompanied by the occational noises of cicadas. I was tired and didn't want to waste my energy to a one sided conversation so i stayed quiet.

As we were walking i felt a presence of someone behind my back, quickly turning around, i saw that a demon was launching at me, while his clawed nails reached for me. A hand wrapped around my waist hopping backwards to get away from the demon, a groaned escaped my lips,

"You okay?" I felt Sanemi's warm breath on my ears i felt a head rushed to my cheeks as i regain my composure. 'Its so hard to focus when im working with you.' I thought.

"Y..yeah. im okay, yeah." I patted the back of my neck and looked at my hands.

Blood.

"Fuck," i tilt my head up and glanced at the demon, a smirk on his face i pulled away from Sanemi taking my sword out of its sheath and drawing it towards the enemy. I took a deep breath and released it out my mouth.

"Ice breathing, first form, Freezing Slash." I launched towards the demon rapidly and precisely strinking him and his neck. Pieces of him dropped to the ground, his detatched head rolling to the ground as it disappears into thin air.

Sanemi walked towards me. "Come here." He softly says, and i obeyed like a puppy. He patched up the wounds on the back of my neck and that day, we reconciled our friendship.

There were times where i wanted to confess to him but didn't want to take advantage of his vulnerable state. Then, that day came where i finally mustered up the courage to finally confess to him, at first he thought i was kidding but once he realize i wasn't, he became nervous. But he did gave the relationship a chance, and we began dating.

But i could never shake the feeling that i was just a replacement, a second choice for the woman he really loved.

"Sanemi! Nemi! Wait!" I yelled running after him.

"What's your place to interfere with me and my brothers problem huh?" He stopped walking and turned around to look at me, a dissapointed look on his face was visible.

"Im sorry, i though– i though it would help.."

"Help with what?!"

"I..i don't know. When you told me about that story about your mother i–" a shaky breath escapes my lips.

"I know how to handle my own brother, and you're out of it." His tone as cold as ice.

"I thought that maybe it will help you move on.."

He stepped towards me, one of his eye brows upwards with a confused look on his face. "Move on from what?"

"From every thing thats keeping you from moving on."

"Why? What do you even know about how i feel? Do you know all the things i had to go to?" His eyes shifted. "Of course not."

"So stop acting like you know my pain, and stop acting like you own it!" His voice raised on the last sentence. "And you can't just say to me when i can move on."

I stood there, in silence. My glossy orbs looking at him.

"Even Kanae who is with me in everything, who knows everything, didn't interfere with my decisions."

That was my last straw.

"Im not Kanae, so stop comparing me to her!"

"You're right, you're not Kanae, and you will never be Kanae." He pointed his finger at me. I looked at him in the eye a tear sliding down my cheeks.

"Kanae is dead. She's not coming back Nemi, but until now you're still acting as if she is here."

"Because she is! She's here!" He pointed at his chest where his heart is.

"If she's there then where am i?.. " my voice quiet but shaky. "Forget it." I walked passed him heading to the door that leads out of his estate. My hand made its way to my mouth to stop myself from crying even louder, the other slid the door open.

I wanted him to chase after me, to tell me we will be okay. But he never did.

How foolish of me to even think that you will. I wonder, if i were to be her will you chase after me?

[xxchumanixx]

heyy love, could you do a tim bradford x fem reader (she is a officer) where they are married and he is totally whipped for her like he does everything she asked him without hesitance.

like one time (this take place when lucy just had become his rookie not a long time ago) for some reason tim, lucy and reader were patrolling together (lucy or reader was sitting in the backseat of the patrol car) and tim was being kinda harsh on lucy like he always is, so reader told him to be nice and scold him. lucy was trying told back her laugh the whole time.

hope this makes sense 😭

Nice for a price

Tim Bradford x wife!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, Tim being grumpy Word count: 482 Authors note: Hey love, thanks for the request! I really like the idea and I hope you'll like how I wrote it. I'm sorry that it's a little short, but I'm a little sick at the moment and I really did my best.

Enjoy!

Sitting in the back of the shop was... weird, to say the least. But Grey had asked you to accompany Tim and his rookie, Lucy, so you didn't have another choice.

Tim was his usual grumpyness, an attitude that you hated. When you were alone together, at home, he was different, like he was another person.

He would be all fluff and cuddles, doing everything you wanted - you just had to ask. Not that you would have let him do everything, but he would have done it without asking questions.

Now, telling Lucy that she should listen more carefully and not frivolously promise a victim to find the bags that had been stolen from her car - a crime that had a solving rate from 0.2% - his voice rose.

"You can't just tell them that you'll find their belongings!" he told her harshly, all the while looking at the street. "To promise a victim something means that they'll be even more disappointed when you can't actually solve the crime, causing them to blame us for it!"

Rolling your eyes you sighed, leaning your head back against the headrest.

You knew how he was with his rookies - hell you'd been his rookie at some point as well - but that didn't mean that you liked his attitude towards them.

"If you-" he wanted to continue, but you cut him off.

"Tim." you warned him, looking at him through the rear view mirror. "What?" he gave back, brows furrowed, as Lucy followed your interaction with great interest.

Giving him a pointed look you crossed your arms above your chest. "She's new, she can't know everything that we do." you told him, brows furrowing as well.

"Maybe, but she has to eventually learn It!" he gave back, shaking his head. "Yes, but you can't expect her not to make mistakes during her first days. So be nice and tell her nicely, to not promise something to a victim and you might get a price for it."

That you meant yourself - naked - as a price, you kept to yourself, even though you knew that he knew what you meant.

Lucy smirked, biting her lip to hold it back, though.

Rolling his eyes Tim huffed and you hit him through the seat. "Ouch!" he made, looking back at you in anger, though it slowly faded at the look you gave him.

"Okay, okay!" he gave in, shooting Lucy a look as she snickered. Covering it up as a cough she tried to avoid another speach.

"But I want my price."

Biting your lip you shook your head at him.

You could see how hard it was for Lucy to hold back the laugh that bubbled up, when Tim looked back at the street.

Smiling you looked out the window, silently laughing to yourself.

You just had to push him a little sometimes.

[obeymematches]

🍬Touching under the table🍬

part 1

Again, nobody asked for this but I'm on a mission- are you not entertained cjdndnd

GN MC, SFW, brothers only

Lucifer:

You sit facing each other as you eat dinner with his brothers, like you always do. You subtly put your feet on his; the eldest brother looks at you, wanting to hold eye contact with you. Of course he doesn't mind your actions; you are subtly letting him know you are thinking of him. It makes him feel like you like him the most and ngl that does feeds his ego. He doesn't mention it though. It's just your little secret.

*smirking* MC would you mind passing the salad- Thank you.

Mammon:

Oh with him you don't have to be so careful. Just put your thight on his as you sit next to him anyways. He freezes and looks down at what you just did. His face turns so red, everyone will have an idea of what's going on. Though some might overthink the situation? Mammon likes to rest his arm on your leg, which is over his.

How is ya skin so soft? Are ya bathin' in milk or what??

Leviathan:

Must.Be.Careful. not to overwhelm him too much. You just touch your shins to his and he notices right away. Please don't pull away- if you do he starts looking for your leg & he might accidentally kick whoever he sits close to. Is a blushing mess. Talks very quietly.

MC why would you move your leg- can we please- .... just touch?

Satan:

You put your hand to rest on his tight as you are taking a break from eating; sometimes everyone has a conversation at the same time so eating becomes a choice; it's nice to take breaks sometimes! As you talk to anyone else while resting your hand on him, he takes a quick look at you and his breathing becomes harder... no, he is not angry at you, in fact he enjoys the situation. He just doesn't exactly know how to react; how dare you touch him and ignore him at the same time? MC you be messing with his feelings- make up your mind pls- tries waaay too hard to get your attention.

MC! Have you tried the bread I made? Did you like it?

Asmodeus:

Okay you don't really have to hold back with him, you might as well just sit across him and put your leggy between his thights. It will come as a surprise for sure but he is living for such surprises!! Definitely tells on you though, it's not going to stay your little secret. Likes to rub your feet!!!

Oh MC I'm sooo lucky you chose me!! Here, do you like this?

Beelzebub:

Okay please touch him in a way which doesn't distract him too much or he won't eat enough, focusing on you too much- Sitting across him you can hold his leg between the two of yours. For a second he pauses to look at you, letting you know he noticed you and he doesn't mind! It's like cuddling while eating... life is good!

MC, do you need me? Wait a little, I finish this burger and you'll have all my attention I promise-

Belphegor:

Okay you are going to have a competition of who's leg goes on top. First you put your leg on him, then he puts his leg on you. Then you strike back again. Neither of you got to eat much while having your little championship, but it did fill him with a delighted emotion; you are his human for sure!

No MC, let me be on top- okay but I just want to touch you MC!

[moondirti]

ghoap x nanny on🔝

they would go bananas trying to find her a Mother’s Day gift because even though she’s not she’s still so important to baby isla

UK mother's day is in march but i'm putting this out for the US folk <3 also not part of the main series! takes place an undefined period of time later, where isla is about 1 yr old, so the end of part 2 doesn't hold weight here

"Stop messin' with it. You'll ruin the wrap job."

"I'm tryin' tae curl th' ribbon. Eejit at the store forgot tae add th' mae touches." Johnny presses his thumb to the blade, tongue poked in concentration as he follows the tutorial. The lady in the video makes it look so easy, dragging her grip along the length of a blue streamer so that it jumps into a little ringlet when she releases. "Ye think women dinnae notice these touches but thay do. I had tae specially instruct th' flower guy up in Glasgow ower th' phone tae make sure he wrapped mah maw's bouquet in brown paper, fur apparently there's a difference."

But all the scot manages to do is slice his thumb open with Simon's knife, blood beading along the wounded site. He jerks away before it can stain the present, popping the digit into his mouth while begrudgingly handing the tools over to his partner.

Who does it with ease.

"Tha' wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Awa' n bile yer heid." Johnny grumbles, twisting his head to check out the window. "She said she'll be back by now."

"Who'll be back by now?"

The sing-song voice catches them both off guard, the pair clambering to hide the subject of their concentration, open-mouthed as you slip out of your pastel yellow galoshes by the door. An impish smile splits your cheeks, positively delighted by the fact that you were able to sneak up on them.

Isla shouts an approximation of your name from her playpen, pulling herself into a stand and waving her little arms around until you swoop in to pick her up. Simon feels his heart race, anticipation coating his palms in sweat as you sway with their little girl bunched in your arms.

"My little Isla-bug! Missed you so much baby." You coo, pressing kisses to her cheek. But Isla isn't interested in greetings. She squeals, legs flailing and finger pointing accusatorially at her fathers.

"Bug! Bug! Da an' Pa!"

"Are Da and Papa bugs too?" Johnny shuffles in place, scratching the back of his neck when you waltz suspiciously towards him. Almost as if you're trying to sniff out the clues the baby lays out for you, like a little detective duo. "Do they have a bug?"

"Yer a wee clipe you." He narrows his eyes at Isla, bumping noses when she giggles at his feigned grumpiness.

"Don't tell me you actually do." You straighten seriously, frowning once you notice the hand Simon keeps behind his back. "Si, I swear to God. I swear to God if that's a bug you're hiding I'll scream. I'll tell Price–"

That does it. He extends the gift before you misinterpret this further and make good on your threat. He can only imagine the awkward phone call with the Captain, who favours you more than he does his own team sometimes. It would not bode over well.

"Happy mother's day, love."

You clamp a hand over your mouth, eyes immediately glossing up in tears.

They discussed who would do this part – this vulnerable profession of how much you mean to them, to Isla. Because you're not her mum. Your name isn't on any of the adoption paperwork. You'd only come into her life when she was five months old, and there's no legal or biological ties linking the two of you together, or you to the boys. Just this human, very fragile bond you've forged over the past year. Something undefined, unnamed, but so magnanimous in its existence that it cannot continue existing without acknowledgement.

And while Johnny felt like the natural choice, Simon knew it'd mean so much more if it came from him. He's the one with the history, after all. The one who denied you a place in their life, again and again. Who wrote off your bids to help and took you for granted until it damn near drove you away for good.

It's clear that it hits you hard.

You pass Isla over to Johnny so as to hug yourself, staving off the waterworks by biting your lip. For a moment, that's all you do. Stand there and stare down at the wrapping paper with all the apples on it, the sleek coiled ribbons. Simon's hand shakes a little, unsure, but then you take it and crush him into a hug so tight, it's almost instinctual to push you off.

He doesn't, of course. Instead, his arms curl around your smaller form, cold fingers warming themselves on the curve of your shoulder.

"Thank you." You sniff from against his chest, then gracefully step back to address Johnny too. "Both of you. I can't– I'm so overwhelmed, I don't know what to say. Can I open it?"

"O' course." Johnny nods, sitting back on the couch and patting the open space next to him. Isla pulls on his overgrown mohawk, but the pain is nothing compared to the joy warming his heart. You're so beautiful like this. Flustered. Emotional. He could just bundle you up and hold you forever.

The bow comes undone with one tug. You take your time with the wrapping paper, though, peeling the tape off gently so it doesn't take off the pattern underneath. Your boys sit on either side of you, arched over like a pair of nervous schoolboys.

"My–"

It's a charm bracelet. Dainty gold links extended to the exact circumference of your wrist. Relatively empty, save for a few exchangeable starter baubles and a ladybug charm that hangs right at the centre.

"Bug!"

You laugh like summer rain. "That's right! It is a bug, clever girl. Can you say ladybird?"

"Lalalalala–"

"She'll get i' soon." Johnny smiles. Simon offers a large hand, slipping the bracelet out of it's box. You give him your wrist, and he clasps it shut around.

"Fits like a glove." He murmurs.

Ladybugs for fortune and grace.

You're their stroke of good luck.

[cinnamokittykat]

My head canons for Sol Brugsmansia x chubby fem! reader!

TW for: Sexual content, Dubcon(?), stalker/yandere tendencies, mentioned violence, mentions of body issues, Somnophilia

SFW (TW for some mild violence)

- This man needs a girl who can be his pillow, so of course he sets his sights on you immediately

- He's the biggest slut for headpats, you could honestly bribe him to do so much by promising to pet him a bit

- Is there an article of clothing you want that isn't available in your size? He'll learn how to tailor them to your size, even if it's a bit shoddy at first

- If anyone were to ever insinuate that you aren't enough because of your weight... They might not be dead but they'll likely be pretty bloody

- He gets so sad when you feel bad about yourself, he'd just grab you and not let you go until you feel better

- He bites affectionately. He bites to get your attention. Sometimes he bites just to bite.

- When he gets jealous, he doesn't lash out at you at all. The worst he may do towards you is cry/beg. The only people he'd hurt in the situation are the people he perceives as a threat. Not you, his perfect girl.

NSFW

- He also bites to mark his territory while making out and having sex.

- He LOVES your curves, especially your boobs. He loves grabbing them and squishing them and kneading them and he loves when you wear a low cut shirt and lean forward in it

- He loves your ass more because he doesn't have to worry about you catching him staring as easily

- So, so so whiny and vocal. Especially when he's been staring at your body all day and has spent the majority of it hard in some capacity.

- Loves eating pussy so much. He'll pin you down and bury his face in between your thick thighs until you're teared up from overstimulation and he has a wet spot in his pants from cumming. If you two aren't together yet, he'll sneak into your room at night and eat you out in your sleep.

- Ideally if he had to die, he'd choose to do it by having your legs wrapped around his head until he suffocates

- Would make you cum from oral a number of times then have the best time sticking his tongue in your pussy to clean you up

- He really prefers being submissive or on equal footing with you in the bedroom. Ideally he's being used as your toy to get off, laying on his back to be ridden to completion, letting you control the situation.

- But when he does feel possessive. Angry. Jealous. It feels like a different person takes hold of him. He'll embarrass, threaten, or even eliminate whatever threat he sees to you two being together forever. After they've been taken care of how he sees fit, he'd find you and pound you until walking isn't a possibility the next day. He'll fuck you until your ass is red and your neck is a patchy-reddish purple and cum drips from your hole. If he somehow ever got your permission, he'd do it in front of the other person too. Make them see what they'd be up against if they even tried.

- And if you were being watched during, he's going into overdrive with the theatrics. It doesn't matter if he has to edge himself, overstimulate himself, or power through muscle pain and lack of breath, he'll do it so show how great of a partner he is.

- The added benefit to this for him is that you'll have no choice but to be taken care of by him at least for a short period of time. He'd happily feed you and bathe you and massage you as much as you need.

[yayll]

~ a little something about you and Dazai working together... or at least trying to ~

"Hold still! God, you really need to be more careful, Dazai, I worr-"

He blinks, and tilts his head, his voice soft yet firm as you both sit on the agency's couch.

"Would you mind looking at me real quick?"

You glance up from disinfecting his wound, and hum.

"Mm, why?"

He sighs, and when he speaks his voice comes out dramatic yet tantalizing, the way he always makes it sound when he knows he's about to say something silly. Something you'll hopefully scold him for! Yum...

"Oh, no reason... Just wanted a little kiss before I inevitably die in your loving embrace~"

You roll your eyes and groan, it makes his stomach do flips. There it is, that adorable shade of pink he loves so much! It matches the one you had on in bed this morning, but that's too naughty to think about now... Dazai hears the way your voice is significantly less strict, and he knows he has you. When does he not?

"Not now, Dazai-"

He interrupts, pouting as he reaches over and twists a lock of your hair in between his slender fingers, twirling it mindlessly while you mend his wound. He gives you a melting expression as his eyes droop enough for you to have no choice but to notice his despair as he whines.

"Mmm, why do you always only call me Dazai when we're at work?"

You sigh as you gently finish dressing his wounds, the fresh bandage mingling with his older ones... He makes a mental note to have you change those later too.

Anything to keep your hands all over him. Desiring him. Always in sight, always on the mind.

"Because we're at work... we're professionals, remember?"

That silly little comment makes him scoff.

"Hmph. Well, everyone knows..."

"Know what?"

"That you and I kiss in the supply closet sometim-"

You fling yourself against his chest and clamp his mouth shut, cheeks burning redder than a tomato. He licks the inside of your palm, causing you to immediately yank your hand away with a small squeak. You can't hold back the way your lips curl into an embarrassed smile as you hiss, and it makes him almost froth at the mouth... Trying to relearn decency is hard when he's this close to you.

"Professionals, Dazai!"

"... We should kiss" He blurts out, face smug.

"No"

"But it huuurtssss!" He's desperate now, resorting to the lowest of the lows so you'll accomodate him against all wishes, not like he has any shame left. He dramatically points at his wrapped up wrist, and slumps back onto the couch as he deflates into deadweight.

Your face softens and you look down, sighing in resignation that your boyfriend might just be a total baby FREAK. His pupils turn into hearts when you speak to him in the way he wants you to.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Who are you referring to?"

"You..?"

He smirks devilishly, and shrugs, feigning ignorance as he looks off to the side, arms crossed. You slowly start to get it, and crack a smirk. You exhale, shaking your head as you give him what he covets for.

"... Where does it hurt, Osamu?"

There it is, the magic word. By the time you're done asking that he's already crawled ontop of you, cornering you on the small loveseat and caging you in between his slender frame. Dazai takes your hand in his, and intertwines your fingers together as he nuzzles your cheek with his nose. His voice is soft, gentle, and talks you through it, just how he did this morning.

"Mmm, I'm not sure anymore... Let's find out together"

Your breath hitches, and you become bashful under him. He looks at you with narrowed eyes, knowing what it does to you, but more importantly what it does to his sick little mind. Leave it to Dazai to turn playful banter into something that will surely leave the two of you a mess... Hopefully you a little more than him. You whisper, a little breathless.

"Oh, now you're just baiting me, huh..."

"Well if I'm bait, then you're biting."

He whispers back, as if sucking the very life force out of you with his eye contact alone. This is how he wins, how he secures heaven for himself every single day, selfishly. He's not hiding anything in his expressions. He wants you for him, and no one else.

You really never stood a chance.

[guppybibi]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 | How does the TF141 love? (as food!)

John Price loves like a plate of carbonara 𓐐

It's one of the most beloved Italian pasta dishes out there, just like how he loves you the most! It's a simple dish yet it's hard to perfect, but you learn not to make the same mistakes afterwards. That's what's so nice about it, it isn't perfect. It never is, but even that is something to be cherished. Some of the choices made are questionable to say the least but he doesn't question them any further, he was one of your choices after all. (i have no idea how this connects to carbonara but do u see my vision, the choices are like ingredients..) Spaghetti is the most common pasta to be used in carbonara, outshining the less frequently used rigatoni & bucatini. And who can blame them? It's a timeless classic, a staple. (Just like you two;3) Spaghetti was notably long as well before shorter lengths gained some popularity! You know what else is long? Your prosperous relationship together! (Let's not talk about the creamy sauce.)

Simon Riley loves like a box of chocolates 🍫

It's assorted too! White, milk, dark, name it all! It's no problem-o! It's a surprise in every bite, or swallow but please chew your food. It's a whole new experience every time, it's thrilling. It could be filled with delectable chocolatey sauce, oozing out once you take the first bite! It's sweetness overload, reminding you of the sweet moments you and him have together. Then, the next chocolate has..nuts! Yum, these are a teensy weensy harder to chew especially if you have the teeth of a grandma..Like how it was just a little bit hard to get Simon to open up, to let you in. But sometimes the chocolates disappoint and have a hollow inside :C

John MacTavish loves like a bucket of popcorn🍿

Corn was domesticated in Mexico, a memorable place for Johnny to say the least. A lot happened there..During the early years, it was popped by hand but as we can see now it's popped by machines. How is that significant? Well, it shows how your relationship evolves. It's being nurtured like a little baby by the two of you after all! It gets more efficient, the both of you doing your own part in smoothing the bumps along the road. It's often eaten at movie theaters and sporting events, and what do those places have in common with this man? One word, fun! (This or he could also be pop rocks to be honest idk)

Kyle Garrick loves like a bowl of strawberries 🍓

A strawberry flower averages 5-7 petals according to a website, if you do the 'he loves me, he loves me not' game–you'll always land on the love one! (He purposely takes out the ones with 6 petals, or he plucks them off individually.) Or if he doesn't have time to do all of that, you guys resort to 'he loves me, he loves me lots' because that's just the wholehearted truth! Though strawberries don't always taste as good as they seem, no? Especially if they're out of season, yuck! Again, there's always some sour ones in the batch, but it's no use crying about it. So, you and him just fix it!

[luv4fushi]

omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well

tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!

this december

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.

content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry

word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)

click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!

it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.

“why me?” you groan.

gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.

“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”

“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.

satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”

you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.

“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.

satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).

satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”

your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”

“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”

“i appreciate your honesty, but—”

“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.

“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”

“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”

“gojo!” you whine.

“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”

and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).

so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.

megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.

“i think we should break up.”

and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.

now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.

“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.

you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.

“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.

the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.

what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.

if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.

megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.

you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.

“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.

it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.

you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.

“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.

“i can take the couch,” megumi says.

it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.

“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”

“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”

we’ve shared a room countless of times before.

megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.

“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.

megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”

he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.

“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.

“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”

to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.

and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.

december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.

“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”

you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”

he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.

by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.

you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.

your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.

you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?

“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.

with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”

you pale. “this sucks.”

“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.

“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.

he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”

your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”

“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.

“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.

you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?

there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.

that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.

so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?

you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”

you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.

it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.

you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.

when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.

“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.

you smile and nuzzle closer.

it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.

to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.

tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.

it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?

“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.

you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.

“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.

the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.

“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.

you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.

“don’t touch my wife.”

the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?

“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”

“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”

the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.

“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”

“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”

you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”

“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”

“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.

“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”

“i don’t want to,” you argue.

“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”

“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.

“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”

from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.

you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”

“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.

“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”

the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.

when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.

the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.

there’s nothing to do anyway.

you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.

you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.

without much thought, you buy the gift.

the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”

you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”

she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.

you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.

reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?

you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.

you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.

you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.

he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.

“is this for me?”

“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”

he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.

“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”

you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”

“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.

you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.

he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.

“thank you,” he whispers.

december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.

“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.

“huh? why not?”

“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.

“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”

“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”

your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.

“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”

“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”

“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.

you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.

“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”

why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?

your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?

you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.

“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.

he stills completely. “what?”

“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”

his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.

“i do care,” he admits sorely.

“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.

“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”

you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.

“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.

“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.

“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.

he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.

“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”

“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”

he flinches against you. “but i…”

“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”

he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.

you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.

“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”

“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?

“w-we gotta report back to—”

“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.

the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”

“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.

all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.

it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.

“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.

“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”

megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.

your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.

"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.

satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”

“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.

“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.

“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”

megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.

“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”

“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.

“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”

“watch me!”

“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”

[luveline]

JADEEE I'M THE ONE WHO REQUESTED SPENCER X BADASS READER (the one where they read a book together). I LOVE IT😭😭 may I share some request again? maybe it is a day off and one of the bau member saw reader and spencer spend their day off together like a couple?? maybe they bump into them at the alley of supermarket because reader and spencer is going to cook dinner together???

thank you for requesting gorgeous!! ♡ fem!reader

Derek supposes he shouldn't be shocked. He knows you and Spencer are making a go of going steady, knows you see each other outside of work, even knows you're sleeping at one another's places between cases (Here, you forgot your badge last night, Spence). 

It's hard to align his view of you with what he's seeing, is all. You're not spiteful, only stoic. Never cruel, but stern. And there you are on your knees by the cantaloupes tying Spencer's shoelace, mumbling something too quiet to hear. 

"Do you like honeydew?" Spencer asks, thumbing along your forehead gently. 

Derek's proud of him through the boggled haze. He always knew Spencer was a kind, loving man, and seeing him display that through small gestures has a brotherly pride swelling in his chest. 

You tap Spencer's ankle and climb to your feet. You keep some of your usual attitude even with Spencer, refusing his helping hand. "I like it if you like it." 

"That's not an answer." Spencer points to the dropping shelf of watermelon, their green stripes like shining emeralds, freshly misted. "We need one of these." 

"We don't need one. You just liked when I cut them up for us." 

"Yeah, I did. In Egypt they serve sliced watermelon with feta cheese." 

"Yeah?" you ask, reaching for a melon. You turn it around to examine the bottom, looking for a yellowed spot where the watermelon would've laid in the field. "That's a choice. Doesn't sound as nice as our chocolate fondue."  

"The first ever record of watermelons were in Egypt, so they'd know best." 

You smile at him with lips pressed together, your eyes soft with fondness. All the women in Derek's life are beauties, but he thinks love has made you prettier still. He isn't surprised when Spencer reaches out and strokes the back of your hand. 

"Hey, lovebirds," Derek croons. 

Your shoulders don't stiffen, exactly, but you lose the relaxed droop you'd acquired as you and Spencer both turn to face him. 

"Hey," Spencer says, "what are you doing here? I thought this place was too 'hokey-pokey' for you?" 

"Hey, their coupons never work. What are you guys up to? Plans tonight?" 

You withhold the typical None of your business, confessing, "Spencer and I are making breakfast for dinner." 

You have your secrets, but you don't hide Reid. It's why Derek doesn't mind the occasional snap or frosty smile; your coldness is a shield rather than a weapon. 

"And you guys eat watermelon and…" He peers into your shopping cart, miscellaneous items scattered throughout. "Massage oil?" 

You glare at him. "Don't get any ideas. It's for his knee."

Derek smirks. "Breakfast of champions." 

"We only just got here," Spencer explains your empty kart. 

"Yeah, well if what I just saw is the norm, we can expect you'll both be home sometime tomorrow morning. He'll talk your ear off if you let him, you know?" Derek asks you. 

Your glare softens. Derek might even say you're smiling at him. "I'd let him," you say. 

"He's a lucky guy," Derek says. He gives Spencer a clap on the shoulder. "I'll see you kids Monday." 

"See you, Morgan," Spencer says. 

Derek walks away, basket in hand and determined to grab a carton of eggs and get out of here, but he slows when he hears Spencer talking again. 

"Why do you act like you don't like him?"

You're too quiet for the untrained ear. Thankfully, Derek's highly trained. "I don't. Derek knows I like him. I just didn't want there to be any confusion."

"Confusion about what?" 

"About who I want." You say it simply. Derek can imagine the steam funnelling out of poor Spencer's ears. "You can be easily deterred, Spence. I wanted you to know I liked you." 

"I know now. You and Morgan would get along really well if you let him talk to you, you both care about–" 

"You?" you ask. "Let's go look for that weird miniature toast you wanted, or we really will be here all night." 

"It's not miniature toast, it's melba toast, and it's actually a kind of rusk–" His babbling fades out of range. Derek snorts and grabs a small carton of eggs. He knew you liked him. 

Not as much as you like Spencer, that's for sure.