#that completely slipped my mind ngl

[broken-clover]

It’s officially Zappa’s day remember to give him a sweet treat for the special occasion…

Fingers crossed he can get to the cake before the ghosts eat it all themselves! Raoh was never very good at sharing...

(His birthday is on father's day this year...are they trying to tell us something?)

[mooooonnnzz]

Forward Beckons Rebound

Dad!Stanford x teen!reader

⚜ 9,8k words OH MY GOD is anyone actually going to read this?

⚜ this was such a pain to complete but writing it was so fun? mixed feelings

⚜ book of bill major spoils

⚜ quick summary: ford is soooo obsessed with finding the secrets of gravity falls and learns to regret making a deal with bill because he almost loses you and he lost fiddleford?? erm...

⚜ bit of gore and blood is described here! u r warned! it's not bad tho i promise

⚜ angst!! + gender neutral reader also instead of stan and ford not seeing each other for 10 yrs, i changed it to 17 cuz it didnt make sense before 😭

⚜ DONT KILL ME PLS but i unintentionally wrote fiddleauthor BUT IT'S NOT LIKE, in your face, nothing is ever stated so take it as you will?

⚜ to anyone who fully reads it, i hoped you enjoyed!! this might flop ngl

Ford stared at his billboard that was filled to the brim with photos of all of Gravity Falls anomalies. A thin string of red was strung across the board, ultimately leading to the middle where a big question mark was laid. For days he’s been theorizing theories on where all the abnormalities came from. Was there a rip in their universe where it expelled all their strange creatures into your world? Or was this a natural occurrence that happens only in Gravity Falls. Ford couldn’t figure it out. Tapping his chin with his pen, his mind raced with thoughts. “Where did it all come from?” He uttered under his breath, eyes squinting in thought. “Where did what come from?” You slip in his lab, placing a plate of food on his table. 

“Oh!” Ford yelped out in surprise. “You scared me there, Kiddo.” He says, chuckling. 

“Sorry,” You sheepishly smile. “I brought you dinner.” Ford’s eyes graze the plate for a second, making a mental note in his head to eat the food you prepared later. Eating was a waste of time and he can’t waste any time when he’s on the brink of solving the mysteries hidden within this town  “I’ll eat it later.” He said with a dismissive tone, his attention going back to the board. 

“This again?” You roll your eyes. “Dad, can you back away from this just for a second and eat dinner with me?” You walk into his view, hands locked together as you pleaded with him. “It’ll be quick! You’ll be back to your work in no time!” You add. Your eyes search his face for any sign of him changing his mind but none came. All he did was side step you, his attention so sucked up in his own head he didn’t even notice what you were saying. He only noticed that you were standing in his way. “Dad,” You let out an exasperated sigh, hands falling down to your sides. 

“You’re not even listening to me.” You said, your eyes landing on a table. An idea sprouted in your head. You kicked the leg of the nearby table, eyes darting over to Ford, looking for a reaction, anything that’ll give him a reason to look at you but be doesn’t budge. Your heart shatters a bit, he’s been so caught up in his work that you and him haven’t properly spoken in awhile. Him being wrapped up in his work wasn’t abnormal, but to this degree, it was very rare for him to cast everything aside and hyper-focus on his findings. You mindlessly kicked the floor, eyes glued to the ground. 

“I’m gonna…” You pause for a moment, voice getting caught in your throat. You couldn’t fully focus on what you were trying to say. You were too absorbed in retaining the tears in your eyes, too ashamed to let them fall. You felt so pathetic for being so deeply wounded that your very own dad pushed you and the food you spent a lot of time making away. There are other problems in the world and you’re over here, on the brink of tears because your dad was being too dedicated to his lifelong work? It all felt so stupid in the grand scheme of things, but it didn’t alleviate the sadness that was bubbling inside of you.

“I’m gonna go,” You meekly said, rapidly wiping the tears that escaped with your arm. 

“Not now, sweetie. I’m this close to breaking this case. I can feel it!”

Silence overcasted him instead of your usual banter. Odd, he thought. Whipping his head over to where you stood, he visibly deflated. You were no longer there. 

Ford smacked his head in annoyance that was directed at himself. He was doing it again. Discarding the pen in his hand, he went to look for you. “Sweetie?” Ford calls for you, heading towards your room. Not wanting to intrude, he cautiously knocked on your door. “Can I come in, kiddo?” He had his forearm resting against the casting of the door, hand over his eyes.

After hearing some shuffling and quiet sniffs, you open the door. “Yes?” Your eyes are glassy when you look at him and his heart cracks in two. He’s the cause of this. “I came here to apologize.” He said, voice audibly full of regret. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. It was out of line and not a way I should treat you when all you wanted was to spend time with me.” You wracked your brain for a moment, debating whether you should accept his apology or mull over this heartbreak just a little longer. You fidgeted with the door, moving it side to side as you continued to think, prolonging it just to purposefully bug with Ford. 

Falling right into your trick, Ford bit his lip, anxiously chewing on the skin. “Are you going to say anything or you’re going to leave me hanging over here?” His hand dragged down the trim of the door, finger tapping on the wall, nervously waiting for your answer. You couldn’t stay mad at him. A small smile pulls to your face and you wrap him in a bone crushing hug. “You better not ignore me like that again!” Your voice muffled through his long sleeved sweater. His arms wrap around you tightly, kissing the top of your head. “I won't, I promise.”

He wasn’t lying when he promised you he wouldn’t get so enraptured by his work like that ever again. He saw how he secluded himself from you and swore up and down he was going to spend less time researching, even if it meant that he had to shove his hungry curiosity away. 

But he would be lying if he said he never laid in bed thinking about what he could be doing instead, what mysteries he could be unsolving and what discoveries he could make that would bring him closer to the question that had been gnawing on him ever since he arrived to this peculiar place.

Many nights were spent restlessly imagining what could be the final piece to his concluding mystery. And one day, he had enough of sitting around. Curiosity killed the cat, a phrase you’d tell him whenever his relentless interest in the unknown occasionally backfired on him, circled throughout his brain but he paid no mind. The yearn to find answers was too great. Slipping on his trench coat, he grabbed his bag. Stringing it over his shoulder, he told you that he was heading out. Completely unaware of his plans, you bid him goodbye from your room. 

Ford came back a little while with nothing new other than discovering an old inscription carvings in a cave. He had hoped that reading them outloud would at least summon something that would give him answers! But his actions were fruitless. Defeated and annoyed, he came back. Entering the house, he called out for you. 

“In the kitchen!” 

He removed his coat and hung it on his coat hanger, along with his bag. He walked over to the kitchen, the smell of spices and cooked meat lingered in the air. “Smells good, kiddo.” He comments, grabbing a Pitt Cola from the fridge. You turn over to him, exaggerating an angry look on your face. “I would have normally taken your compliment but I’m more curious on where you went for practically the whole day!” Ford playfully rolled his eyes at your joking tone. “I was out, sweetie. I lost track of time.” He says, popping the soda can open. Your eyes lock on the Pitt Cola can in his hand. “You don’t drink soda,” You turn off the stove, putting the dirty cooking utensils in the sink “Drinking some once and awhile doesn’t hurt.” He shrugs, ruffling your hair. “dad!” you smacked his hand away from your hair. “Go sit down!” You grumbled, to which he complied. 

While you were setting up dinner, a terrible headache overcame Ford. Clutching his head with his free hand, he threw away the Pitt Cola, thinking the soda was the cause of his headache. When you called him for dinner, his brain squirmed in pain. He walked over to the table, sitting himself down as he gripped his head. Too lost in the mind numbing pain, he fails to hear your calls.

“Dad?” 

No response.

“Dad?” You called out again, kicking him from under the table. He jolted up in surprise. 

“W-What?” He groaned out, his hand still on his forehead. “Are you okay?” You reach out to him, hand on his arm as your thumb moves side to side. Ford weakly smiles, appreciating the gesture. “I’m fine, sweetie. Don’t worry about me.” He looked at you, offering a timid thumbs up. “I’m just getting old.” He said, the pads of his fingers pressing against his temples. 

“Do you want me to get you tylenol or—?” Ford waves you off. “It’s okay, kiddo. I’ll tough it out.” 

For the past few minutes, you’d catch him staring off into the distance, eyes wide and mouth half open. Everytime you would have to snap him out of his trance, worried if he stayed like that any longer something bad would have happened. Abruptly getting up from the chair, he mumbles, “Heading to bed.” Leaving you alone in the dining room. Unsure on how to react, you watched him leave. No goodnight? No kiss on the forehead? You frowned and got up from your chair, grabbing your plate and his. While washing the dishes you thought of all the possible reasons on why he’s acting so weirdly. But nothing came to mind. Drying your hands on your pants, you walked over to his room.

Opening the door, you peeked your head in. You found him fast asleep on his bed. Carefully stepping inside his room, you pull his blanket over his shoulder and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Sleep well, Dad.” You whisper. 

The next morning was weird to say the least. You woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting into your room. Curious and hungry, you quickly brushed your teeth and skipped down the hall. “Dad?” You walk into the kitchen to see him cooking up breakfast, a large smile to his face. “You look happy?” You say rather confused, watching as he flipped the pancake up in the air. 

“Today is a good day, kiddo!” He said with so much energy you were convinced that your dad was kidnapped and replaced by a poorly made replica during the night. Never once in your life have you seen him so chipper to be up so early. “Is that so?” Ford finishes up the pancakes and sets them on plates. He hands you a plate and puts his down on the table. 

He grabbed butter and syrup from the cabidents, popping the syrup bottle open and drenching his pancake with the sweet syrup. “Want?” He asks you. “No thank you.” 

He sits down on his chair and picks up his fork. You watched him closely as he cut a piece of the pancake with the side of his fork, the smile never washing away from his face. “Did you have a good dream or…?” He laughed, stabbing the piece of the cut pancake with his fork. “Guess you could say that.” He looked at you, a flash of yellow ignited in one of his eyes. You blink and his eye is back to normal. You shake your head, brushing it off as your mind tricking you. “Okay?” You looked down to your plate, the fluffy pancake suddenly looking unappetizing. The whiplash of his sudden change in attitude really struck you hard. You pushed the plate away from you, taking in a breath through clenched teeth. “I’m gonna eat later, okay?” You got up and headed to your room before Ford could respond. 

“That was weird, wasn’t it, Sixer?!” A voice boomed in his head. Ford jumped, dropping his fork. “Can you give me a heads up when you do that?” He grumbled under his breath, recollecting himself. “Oops! Sorry,” Bill laughed loudly in his head. “Heads up!” He warns.

“There’s no point if you say it after.” Ford mumbles, grabbing his fork to continue eating his breakfast. “You humans and their foods,” Ford could imagine Bill rolling his eye. “Hurry up or else I’m going to rip my eye out of boredom!” 

Months ticked by and Ford was still strung up on building a portal. When you’d ask him about it, he would vaguely respond by saying; “This will break the boundaries between our worlds!” And continued to mumble incoherently to himself, pacing around the room as he stewed in his thoughts. He also began to collect weird art of this godly being. His lab was shrouded with tapestries, paintings and statues of a yellow triangle. Questioning about the art led you nowhere. Ford would act like it wasn’t such a big deal and make it seem like you’re the crazy one for finding an issue with his sudden obsession with this triangle. You just pinned it as him obsessively worshiping whatever this god is. As long as it doesn’t get too out of hand. 

Even if he was knee deep in his work, he still managed to find some time to spend time with you. Outings were pretty common and you made it known that you appreciate him stepping out of his little man dungeon just to spend some time with you. 

Everything was going good for Ford and you. He was slowly reaching his answer he’s been desperately looking for this whole time and you were happy to see him in such high spirits all the time. Not that he never was! He just seems more confident in himself, like he knows his self-worth. You wondered what exactly happened to him to make him so assured of himself. 

Although, there would be times where his usual outgoing spirit was washed out for weeks at a time, even months. You were always there to cheer him up, to ground him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay during those times. You never thought much of it, just chalking it up as him going through mental exhaustion. It made the most sense to you. After all, he practically spends most of his day going out to that UFO crash landing site to collect scraps for the portal. There’s days where he’s all beaten and bruised and you’re left to take care of his wounds. You pestered him like a mother would to their child. 

Ford sat down on the couch with a loud sigh, unbeknownst to him, you were in the kitchen browsing the cabinets for any snacks when Ford started mumbling to himself. “My muse,” He says. “Gone without a word once again.” He groans. You could hear him take off his glasses and place them somewhere. “Muse?” You whispered under your breath. You waited for him to say anything else that you can latch on to, but unfortunately for you, the TV sparked to life. Latest news reports filled the room and you were left stumped with new information.Was this supposed muse the reason why he gets all sad and anxious? Is this Muse a partner he hasn’t introduced you to yet? Your head is thick of conspiracies and feasible reasons but it was cut short when Ford interrupted your thoughts by walking in. 

“Sweetie?” He’s surprised to see you in the kitchen, hunched over in thought. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Uh,” You look at the open cabinet, flipping your eyes between the cabinet and your dad. “Not long! I was…looking for snacks!” You grabbed a bag of chips. “Oookaayy?” He walks to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. 

“Are you seeing anyone?” 

Like a flash of lightning, your face is sprayed with Ford’s mouth water. “I’ll take that as a no,” You said, voice raspy. You waddle out of the kitchen, dripping water onto the floor. “I’m sorry, kiddo!” 

At some point, he needed a few extra hands to help assemble the machine. Ford chose you and an old friend of his, Fiddleford, to be his helpers. Meeting Fiddleford was a delight. He’s a kind hearted soul who had the brains of a genius. When there were slow days in building the portal, he’d play a song on the banjo to lighten up the mood. You all grew close as time went on and you felt like you had your own little family. You cherished every laugh, smile and conversation that passed between you and the others. 

“What songs can you play?” You ask Fiddleford who was strumming the strings of his banjo without any thought. Catching his attention, he takes in your question. He considered his answer for a minute or so. “I don’t think it’s a song you’d know.” He says, beginning to play the opening tune on his instrument. “I know Ford will know this one though!” He smirks, head craning over to Ford who was drawing the outline for the portal. As Fiddleford smoothed into the middle of the song, Ford was turned over on his chair, head swaying to the beat. Once the song came to a close, the lab erupted in rounds of applause. “Thank you, thank you all!” 

“I remember that song all too well.” Ford grins. You furrowed your brows. “I’m curious. Why do you two know the song?” Your finger switching between Ford and Fiddleford. “There’s nothin’ really special behind it,” Fiddleford lightly shrugs. “I just played this song whenever Ford had trouble concentrating on his work.” 

“And it worked?” Ford nodded his head. “Worked seamlessly.” 

You weren’t surprised when Fiddleford would start playing the song whenever Ford was stressed out. 

June 15th rolled by, Ford’s birthday! You and Fiddleford secretly planned a surprise party for him, something small between the three of you to remind him how much you and Fiddleford love him. You knew he never was a fan of his birthday. Celebrating one without his twin grew harder each year, but you seemed to lessen the ache in his heart and with Fiddleford a part of the little family now, his birthday surely won't be as bittersweet! 

Walking over to his lab, you felt your shoe press against something squishy. Looking down to the floor, you saw a pile of dead rats that spelled out his name. The one you stepped on was flattened, mouth hung open as its bloodied guts pool out of it. You let out a scream, stumbling backwards in disgust and horror. 

The door to Ford’s lab flew open, a concerned Ford stood behind it. “Kiddo, are you alriighht…?” His words trailed off into the air, his attention now shifted to the pile of dead rats on the ground. “What the…?” His eyes flicker between you and the rats. He looks equally horrified and disgusted. “I’m gonna get something to clean—“ A gag interrupts you. “To clean that up!” You said in a hurried flash, hands cupping your mouth as you scurried away from the scene. 

When you came back with a mask covering your nose and mouth, disinfectant spray, a broom and a trash bag; You saw Ford sweetly smiling at the pack of dead rats. “Uh, dad?” Why was he looking at the rats like that? His head flew up, eyes locking with yours. “Oh, kiddo! Th-Thanks! I’ll clean this up, don’t you worry.” He says, grabbing the cleaning product and broom. 

“Uh, okay? Me and Fiddleford are upstairs. We made you something.” You tell him, fidgeting with your fingers. A quick “mhm,” leaves him and you’re left to walk back to the kitchen, a little weirded out by his smile. “Did you clean it up?” Fiddleford asked, adding the finishing touches to the cake. “dad’s cleaning it up. He was acting weird though,” You look at the cake. Gorgeously decorated with white frosting all by Fiddleford’s amazing handiwork. “Weird in what way?” He curiously asked. “Like, there was a pile of dead rats that formed his name and he was disgusted at first, but when I came back with cleaning supplies he looked…” You stop, searching for the word in your head. “Touched?” Your voice high pitched with uncertainty “He looked at the rats as if they were a gift almost.” 

“Now ain’t that something.” He looks at you with a shake of his head. “Listen, I love your dad but he’s been actin’ weird.” He pushes his glasses up, setting the piping bag aside. “I sometimes catch him talking to himself. I knew to a certain degree he talked to himself, but I don’t remember it being that bad.” 

“I notice that too, do you think it’s that–” 

“What is all of this?” Ford asked, amusement trailing his voice. The conversation between you and Fiddleford evaporated in thin air and was replaced with you and him both yelling out, “Happy Birthday!”

His birthday went smoothly and perfect in your eyes, if you ignore the hiccup from earlier. Your dad was laughing heartily at what Fiddleford told him, drinks in both of their hands. Plates of eaten cake were left on the table, confetti was strewn about and you were more than satisfied with you and Fiddleford’s work. You watched as the pair happily conversed with each other, sharing old memories of college together. As the mini party came to a close, Ford turned to you as he hugged Fiddleford goodbye. “Thank you for this, truly. I needed this.” Hugging him, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Anytime, dad.” You smiled.

Soon enough, Christmas was right around the corner. The small little town of Gravity Falls was celebrating the festive cheer by blasting music from every corner and littering their house with decorations. Something you also partook in. Standing on top of the very tall ladder, you decorated the roof with Christmas tree shaped lights. 

“Kiddo!” 

Looking down, you saw Ford waving at you. “Hi, Dad!” You wave back, slowly ascending down the ladder. Once you reached the bottom, Ford had shoved a snowglobe and a 6-fingered mitten your way. “Look at what Fiddleford made me.” Ford beamed, a small hue of pink flushing his cheeks. You picked up the snowglobe and shook it. You watched in awe as the glittery snow cascaded down to the bottom. “He’s so good at making things.” You say, handing back the adorable snow globe. “And a six fingered mitten?” You slipped the glove on. It covered your whole hand and almost up to your forearm due to how big it was.

“Give me that.” Ford chuckled, removing the mitten off your hand with a swipe. “That’s so sweet.” You say, seeing Ford bleed out utter joy. “And look what he got you!” Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a picture frame. Within the frame was a photo of you, Ford and Fiddleford at Gravity Falls local park. All three of you were stupidly posing in the photo, faces pulled in different ways to make the weirdest face ever. The frame was decorated with a mini wreath and tinsel. On the back, he wrote “To my family,” with a tiny heart scribbled as a period. “He thinks of us as his family!” You held the picture frame close to your chest. “dad! I’m going to cry. This is so sweet.” 

“He’s one of a kind.” He says, staring at his gifts longingly. “Where is he? I need to go thank him.” Your eyes search around the premise. “I’m afraid you’re too late, kiddo.”

“What?” You quickly turned around. “Is he dead?!” You practically yelled out. “What? No, no.” He shook his head. “He’s out of town. Spending time with his wife.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “Why did you say it like that!” You shoved his shoulder with your hand. He let out a snort. “Sorry, sorry!” He raised his hands up defensively. “Whatever,” You said jokingly. “Are you done decorating the house?” He wonders, peering his head up to see the lights flashing on the roof. “Not quite. I still need to decorate the front porch and such. Wanna help?” Ford didn’t hesitate to agree. He grabbed your gift and placed it inside where it was safe and started helping you decorate.

Wordlessly, you disappeared into the house for a moment. Ford was puzzled but it all made sense when he heard loud Christmas music grow near. The door burst open and there you were, radio in hand with a multitude of DVD’s in the other. “I had to play some music.” 

“Just don’t play the songs Fiddleford plays!” 

“Those are the exact songs I’m playing.” A groan was heard from Ford and you had to stifle a laugh. That day was spent entirely accessorizing the whole house. The next few days progressed nicely. The christmas spirit was thick in the atmosphere and nothing could shatter it. And as if it was a Christmas miracle, Ford had told you that Fiddleford came back earlier than intended due to relationship problems back home. He also slid in that he had just met The Krampus before crashing down on the couch. The next hour was you trying to shake your dad up from his slumber to get the full story. How could he drop the mention that he met Krampus and knock out like that?  

Later that day, Ford was magically possessed by the spirit of Christmas and chose to decorate the portal with lights and a ‘Happy Holidays’ banner. “What’s all this?” You point towards the portal that was covered in flashing lights. “I just wanted to make the place look festive.” There was another reason why he did this and you read him all too well.

“I bet it’s for Fiddleford.” You tease. He scoffed, waving you off. “I may or may not have called him over.” You squeal, hugging Ford with all your might. “Is this how having a full family feels like?” 

“What! Did you not like when Christmas was just us two?” He took your comment very personally, even though a smidgen of him thought the same thing. “No. I loved it, but it’s nice to share the festivities with someone else.” 

After a bit of waiting around, a knock resounded through the house. Ford perks up from his chair. “That’s him!” He exclaims. Quickly turning to you, he throws the remote to the lights to you. “When we walk in, turn on the light and throw the christmas confetti.” He instructs you. 

“You can count on me!” You said, puffing out your chest. Hiding behind the wall, you heard Ford’s footsteps lull to whisper. Quiet chatter was heard and soon, the footsteps drew near. Your finger hovered the On button. You overheard a tiny little yelp and the sound of something unraveling. Looking towards the portal, you saw a little gnome hanging upside down by his foot. 

“Oh, c’mon!” You smack your head. You didn’t have time to unwrap the lights off his ankle. Mouthing a “hold on!” to the gnome, you watched as Ford and Fiddleford’s shadow crept into view. You smashed your fingers on the On button, the lights flickering to life. 

A gasp left Fiddleford. “First you decorate the house and now the portal? Gee, Ford! And to think I thought you were a mini grinch.” He jested, delivering a slight punch to Ford’s arm. “I’m glad you like it, Fiddleford.” He said softly. He then coughed to his hand, his eyes moving to the general direction where you were at. “Imagine if we had CONFETTI thrown at us. That would be AWESOME.”

Your eyes widen. You forgot the confetti! Jumping right in front of them, you threw the ball of confetti in their face. Your vision was full of confetti fluttering down. When it cleared out, you saw Ford’s unimpressed face and Fiddleford’s large smile. He cracked into full blown laughter, hunched over as Ford coughed out confetti from his mouth. “Really?”

“Oops?” You awkwardly laugh. 

“Is that a gnome?” Ford points over to the gnome who waved at him enthusiastically. “Ignore him…” You said quietly.

Half of the cold night was spent warmly tucked in the lab, all huddled up behind blankets and hot cocoa in hands. Sooner or later, they swapped out their hot cocoa with nog. They both told you stories from their past together, stemming from embarrassing stories to really heartfelt ones. Each story either had you hooked on every word that left their mouth or a messy ball of tears. 

“You know,” Ford begins, leaning back, looking at Fiddleford and you adoringly. “Maybe we should stop building the portal.” 

Shock strikes you and Fiddleford. “What happened to making scientific history?” He asks. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I still want to make history but…” His eyes trail to the portal.  “I just want to spend time with my favorite people in the world outside of this lab.” His fingers tapped the floor mindlessly. “I have people around me who love me. Why waste that, you know?” 

“Am I goin’ crazy?” Fiddleford whispers to you. “I think it’s the nog talking.” You whisper back.

“I can hear you guys talking!” 

Facing Ford, Fiddleford had a light blush on his cheeks. “You tell me I’m the sappy one but I think I’m rubbin’ off on ya,” He nudges him. “Don’t make me take back what I said.” He threatens with no actual meaning behind it. 

“Why don’t we go outside to build snowmen? That way I can see you wear that six-fingered glove I tirelessly worked on.” Fiddleford suggested. Liking the idea, Ford got up to his feet. He lent out a hand to Fiddleford who graciously took his hand. “Last one to go outside is a rotten eggnog!”

You and the boys rush to their respective rooms, hastily changing out of their thin long sleeves to their thick jackets and pants. Throwing the door to your room open, you stumbled out of the house and onto the snow where you tripped. Laughter sounded around you. Lifting your head up from the fluffy snow, you saw Ford and Fiddleford already out, all bundled up to protect themselves from the cold. “No way!” You gasped, scrambling to your feet. “Yes way!” Ford said. 

The other half of the night was spent building snowmen, making snow angels and snowball fights. You tapped out after a while, hugging the both of them closely. “Best day ever!” You said, throwing some snow in the air. “I’m glad you had fun, kiddo.” His hand patted your back, giving you a kiss on your temple. Fiddleford ruffled your hair endearingly.

“Night, guys. Don’t go too crazy on the nog!” They did exactly what you told them not to do.

A month passed and you believed everything was going alright, you thought everyone was getting along but something happened to Ford a few weeks ago. He’s been more paranoid now, snapping at you or Fiddleford and erratically going off on tangents of how he needs to finish the portal. The talk of discarding the portal many nights ago was lost to the wind. Now it rested as some silly little pipe dream. 

Fiddleford was noticeably putting less and less effort in the project. You’d often find him daydreaming on his desk, mind far away from the lab. Your work was beginning to become sloppy, head full of thoughts and worries. You stressed over the thought of how everything was just fine a few weeks ago. Now it was slowly falling apart.

You were taking a break outside of the lab when Fiddleford stormed out. His face pinched with a mix of anger and sadness. “Fiddleford?” You rushed to your feet, running over to him. “Fiddleford, what happened?” You stood in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. His lip trembled, looking off to the side. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Go ask your dad since he’s so keen on yellin’ at me.” 

Your heart drops to your stomach. Your dad did what? “D-Do you wanna stay here? I-I can talk to him and you guys can make up or something!” Your words stumbled over each other. You can see your whole world crumbling down right in front of you and it was all because of your dad. “It’s alright, pumpkin. I’ma head home now.” A somber yet reassuring smile pulled to his lips.

“I’m going to talk to him, I promise.” You tell him with a firm nod to your head. “Thank you.” His voice was weak, something you’ve never heard from him before. You brought him into a hug, squeezing him before letting him go. He wished you a good afternoon and left, leaving you alone to deal with your dad.

You sucked in a deep breath and trudged towards the lab. Walking in, you saw Ford pacing around anxiously, a scramble of words tumbling out of his mouth at rapid speed. “Dad?” His head snaps to you, a light yellow glow in his eye. The same one you saw almost one year ago. He blinked and suddenly it was gone. “What do you want, kiddo?” His tone was harsh and clipped.

“I just wanted to talk to you.” You cower a bit. His anxious energy and rude tone shook you to your core. He’s never talked to you with such anger before. “Are you here because of what happened between Fiddleford and me?” He inquired, taking a step towards you. Seeing his face better, you could see that it was pulled into an irritated scowl. “What happened, dad?” 

“He was going through my stuff! Without my permission!” He said, his hands cupped towards him, directing them at himself. “And to think I trusted him!” 

“He probably got the cabinets mixed up or something.” You shrug, not getting the whole show he’s throwing. Ford pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering to himself. “You don’t understand.” 

“Understand what?” Your lips quivered. You felt so little compared to him. He towered over you with such burning anger you couldn’t process that he was your dad. “You don’t understand what’s going inside my head!” He jabs his finger to his temple repeatedly. “You can’t trust anyone, especially him!” 

“This is Fiddleford we’re talking about, Dad! He wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” You said. You couldn’t grasp the words that were coming out of his mouth. Since when did he start doubting Fiddleford’s loyalty? What planted this ridiculous idea into his head? Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“So explain to me why he was rummaging through my belongings!”

“I’m not Fiddleford, I can’t answer that question!” 

Ford scoffed, he opened his mouth to say something when it faltered close. He was quiet for a moment, lost in his thoughts when he took a step back. His expression screamed betrayal. “Unless you’re siding with him to work against me.” He murmured, eyes narrowed at you.

Your stomach twisted into knots. “Seriously?” Your voice wavered. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to suppress your cries. When you opened your eyes, you were locked on a tapestry of that yellow triangle. That’s when it all clicked. Swallowing your sorrows, you pointed to the tapestry. 

“That triangle,” You start. “Ever since you started hanging up those stupid paintings or whatever, you’ve been acting strange in all kinds of ways.” You walk over to it, fingertips brushing the material. Ford eyes you warily. “Is this your Muse I hear you talk to yourself about?” Your fingers wrap around the tapestry. 

“Don’t.” His finger pointed at you. You felt like you were a kid again, being disciplined by him for acting irresponsible, for breaking something you shouldn’t have. It made the reality of the situation a lot more serious. This wasn’t something that Ford could shrug off due to your poor impulse control. This is something you chose to do. “Please don’t.” He begged, his eyes glossing over with tears. 

You yanked it, ripping it in half. Ford reached out to grab the ripped tapestry but you were too quick. You moved to the side and observed the art designed on it. A flying yellow triangle was depicted as the saving grace of our world. In the background there were people on their knees, while some stood behind them. What stood out to you the most was their eyes yellow, their pupils replaced with a black straight line. You’ve seen those yellow eyes before. You turn your head over to Ford, your heart crushing against your chest. You could barely recognize the man in front of you. He had deep dark eye bags under his eyes, the whites of his eyes had dark crimson veins that irritated his eyes. His hair was disheveled and his chin had little stubbles of hair growing out. 

“What is this?” The back of your hand smacks against the tapestry. “Who is this? Why am I just making sense of all of this now?” You shoot questions at him like rapid bullets. “Why haven’t you told me anything about this?” 

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back. “I don’t know if I should tell you.” He says, voice low. “I don’t want you to jeopardize our main goal.”

“What main goal, Dad?” You shot back. “The one you said you didn’t want to do anymore because you didn’t want to lose track of what’s in front of you?” Your hands clenched the tapestry. “I changed my mind.” Ford rubs his forehead, looking away from your eyes, clearly ashamed of himself. “Clearly!” You stared at him for a moment. “Why?” He looks over to you, his face riddled with exhaustion. You soften your tone and repeat it. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He responds. “Did the triangle guy give you shit for it?” You watch as he winces. Right on the dot. So this entity, this being, it speaks to him. “Does he talk to you?” He nods slowly, as if he’s unsure that the information he’s sharing is allowed to be told. “Dad…” You drop the tapestry. “What have you gotten yourself into?” 

A prolonged silence entraps you and him. You stare at him and he stares at you and he looks so terribly conflicted with himself. He looks at you like he doesn’t know what’s right or wrong. He pushes his glasses up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I need you to get out of my lab.” 

“What?” Your whole body tingles with cold chills. You can’t tell if he's joking or not. He has to be joking, right? There’s no way he’s demanding you to leave, right? “Dad I—“

“—I said that you need to leave. Why haven’t you done that already?” His voice is dangerously low. His irritation seeps deeply into his words and punches you right in the heart. You open your mouth, ready to protest, ready to fight with whatever energy you had left in you but closed it. 

You backed out. 

Kicking the tapestry over to him, you forcefully knock your shoulders with him as you leave. Hot tears escaped your eyes as you ran to your room, shutting the door of your room.

Ford sighs out, despair riddling his body. “And you’re sure that [Name] and Fiddleford devised a plan to turn off the portal?” He asked Bill who floated in front of him. Bill flicked his hand down. “Don’t you worry, pal! You did the right thing.” A distant look was evident on Ford’s face. 

“You do a good job at listening to me, you know that, Fordsy?” Ford could only grumble in response. 

Bill spun around to face the portal  “When do you think this portal can turn on?” 

“Tomorrow.” Ford firmly says. “Do you think you can rally those two knuckleheads tomorrow? You need a test dummy afterall!” 

“I might be able to.”

The morning blooms to life and you’re left rotting on the bed, not wanting to move from the only place that provided you constant comfort. Hours pass by when you hear Fiddleford’s voice. You sprung up from the bed. What is he doing here? Making a beeline to the bathroom, you quickly brush your teeth and hurry on down to the living room. They’re nowhere to be seen. 

You rush to the lab and open the door. The ground shifts as the portal powers to life. You watch as they approach the roaring portal, test dummy in hand. What happens next all happens too fast. Fiddleford’s wrist got tied to rope that was on the test dummy and got pulled along with it, his head getting sucked in. You run over to your dad, hands latching on to the rope that was conveniently on his ankle. Together, you and Ford pull him back in. You fall back to the floor. Fiddleford violently trembles as he speaks some garbled nonsense. 

“Fiddleford?” 

He sits up, staring blankly ahead of him. “When gravity falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with one eye!”

“Fiddleford, get a hold of yourself. You’re not making any sense!” Ford reached out to Fiddleford but he flinched away before he could. “This machine is dangerous,” He states, hugging his arm. “You’ll bring about the ends of the world with this!” He grabs onto Ford’s shoulder. “Destroy it before it destroys us all!”

“I can’t, Fiddleford. This is my life's work!” 

Fiddleford looks down to the floor. “I fear we unleashed a grave danger on the world.” He looks petrified. Whatever he saw on the other hand has mentally taken a toll on him within a matter of seconds. He looks up to Ford, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m not gonna ask again.” His body tremors in fear. “You need to destroy the machine, Ford. Please, I beg of you.”

“Fiddleford. I can’t just throw this all away.” Ford says. 

Fiddleford studies his face, hoping that a part of Ford was lying. But when Ford’s stern face unwavering, Fiddleford broke. “Then I quit.” He stands up from the floor, his eyes gazing at you one last time before he marches out of the lab, leaving you and Ford stunned. 

“Fear the beast with one eye,” You echoed, your mind instantly flashing to the image of the yellow triangle Ford has everywhere. Ford had seemed to make the same revelation. He shuffles to his feet, still shaken up by what had just happened, he stumbles a bit as he goes back inside the lab, pulling out his journal 3 notebook. “Shut off the portal!” He commands. 

You don’t waste a second getting up and switching off every knob, lever and button. Sneaking careful glances to Ford, you can see him writing, his pressure on the pencil is so hard that the words he writes come out thick and black. You just stand there and watch him visibly break down, his mental health deteriorating as the minutes go on. 

“I need to destroy the portal and burn the journals,” He finally speaks up after a long minute. “And we’re leaving Gravity Falls once I deal with everything.” He slammed the book shut and tucked it inside his coat. “We’re what? Leaving Gravity Falls?” You follow him closely as he leaves the lab, eyes clouded over with fear. “It’s not safe here, [Name].” 

The whole day is such a messy blur. Too overwhelmed with your emotions you couldn’t grasp the severity of the situation. You were still hung up on the fact Fiddleford left. The look in his eyes will be forever ingrained in your memory. Everything around you is falling apart and you can’t seem to pick up the pieces and fix it. Sleep was unachievable. Closing your eyes would replay the memories of what happened hours prior. 

Footsteps approached your room, but they weren’t the ones you were familiar with. These were messy and uncoordinated. Bangs of someone slamming against the wall shook your room and before you could have any time to react, your door whips open, revealing Ford. You breathe out in relief. It was just your dad.

Ford’s head pulls up as if it’s being controlled by a string and stares you down with a wide smile. His comforting brown eyes weren’t there anymore. Instead, they glowed a disgusting yellow. His pupils were a black slit and you felt your blood run cold and the world around you stopping. You felt like a fool to think you were safe. 

“Nice to finally meet you!” Another person’s voice spoke using your dad’s mouth. “Names Bill, Bill Cipher!” He hung out his hand for you to shake. Your body felt like cement was encased in your veins, preventing you from moving. His eyes switched from his hand to yours a few times before pulling his hands back. “I see you don’t do handshakes. I get it! You’re probably thinking where’s my dad right now? What is inside of him? What is going ooonnn?!” He lets out a laugh. “Right? You’re thinking that?” 

Your voice dies in your throat, your words failing you. “Hmm, maybe I chose the wrong day to come out…Should I have done it tomorrow?” He thinks out loud, tapping his finger on his chin, exactly the way your dad did. “Well, too late to think about what could’ve happened!” He jolts towards you, his hand grabbing your wrist. You break out of your trance “Let go of me!” You screech. Your fist clenched, ready to blow a punch to Bill’s arm when it hit you, this is your dad’s body. Any injury you inflict on Bill is also harming your dad. “What? Are you too scared to hit me because I’m in Ford’s body?” A cackle leaves Bill. “This will make this so much easier then!”

“Make what easier?” Not knowing what Bill was scheming made everything feel so much scarier. “I’m breaking into Sixer’s lab! But I just need your help.” A warm sensation drips onto your hand and slides down to your arm. You feel bile climb up your throat when you see that it was blood seeping out of the various open wounds Bill had given to Ford on his knuckles. “W-what did you do?!” The wounds weren’t deep, but the skin was ripped open and Bill dragging you down to the lab only peeled the skin open even more. “Just tried bashing the door down. Is it obvious that it didn't work?” 

You reached the lab’s door. Blood was smudged on the door, some dripping down to the floor. The strong scent of metal hung in the air and you could feel your stomach churning. “Unfortunately for me, Sixer can be a real genius at times. He implemented this stupid security system so I couldn’t get in!” Bill’s other hand grips your hair. “It won’t work with my eye, but it’ll work with youuurss!” His hand in your hair pushes your head towards the eye scanner. You yelp out in pain. “Oh, stop complaining!” His finger pressed a button and the scanner began inspecting your eye, before it could do a proper scan you screwed your eyes shut. “Oh no you don’t.” Bill pries your eye open and starts the scanner all over again. You tried struggling against it, but his boot stomped down on your ankle, twisting it sideways. “I just wanted to do that!” You screamed in agony, tears pouring out of your eyes. 

A loud beep sounded and you thought you were granted access when Bill cursed under his breath. He throws you against the wall, you head knocking against it. “So useless!” He delivers a punch to the door. “I will get access to that portal.” He shoots over to you, a large toothy smile that spreads ear to ear unnaturally took over Ford’s face. “Or maybe I can think of other ways to convince him to–” His eyes roll to the back of his head and he falls back. “Dad!” You crawl over to him, hands on his cheeks as you watch his eyes flutter open. No longer were they yellow. 

“Oh, thank god!” You wrap him in a hug, tears falling down your face. “D-Did I fall asleep?” Ford slurred out. As Ford’s surroundings came back to him, his face scrunches up when he’s assaulted with the stench of blood. “[Name], what happened?” 

“Bill tried breaking into the lab to use the portal.” You say, giving him a squeeze before giving him space. “Did he get in?” He groans as he sits up, body terribly sore. “No, he didn’t.” His eyesight focuses on you, eyes blowing wide when he sees blood staining your hand and arm. “Did he hurt you?” He grabs onto your hand, looking for any damage. “He didn’t make me bleed. Just gave me a tiny concussion and a twisted ankle probably.” 

Ford stays silent for a moment, his head replaying your words. Anger boiled in his chest as he thought of the ways he hurt you while he was possessing his body. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m fine!” You assure. “I’m more worried about your knuckles.” You say, looking at the splintering skin. “My knuckles?” He casts his gaze over his knuckles and winces at the sight. “He does not know when to give up.” 

The rest of the night was you patching Ford up and him patching you up. Conversation floated between you and him as if the previous days were nothing but a nightmare. That’s when he unloaded everything about Bill onto you, from the moment they made the deal to when the portal was revealed to be nothing but a way for Bill to take over Earth. You could see the remorse on his face as he talked, speaking on how he felt so stupid for falling into his tricks, believing the lies he told and how he almost caused a rift between the two of you. You already figured out most of what he told you prior to the conversation, but having it proven to be true and not baseless guesses was astounding. 

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting for the past year.” He says, holding you tightly to his chest. “It’s okay, Dad. You were under his influence and believed him more than you believed yourself.” You tell him. 

From then on out, you and Ford searched for anything that’ll help defeat Bill. Ford stumbled across a book with armor that was supposed to keep Bill out of the mind. The machinery was horribly outdated but by growing on their ideas, you and Ford had a solid outline of a modern alternative. Assembling it was another story. 

“Does this go here or here?” 

“No..I think it goes here?” 

The idea was scrapped and Ford was back to square one. Without Fiddleford’s brilliance in machinery, the protective armor was pretty much unachievable. And right before you knew it, the inevitable came. Ford fell asleep. You walked into his room with what you originally thought was him hunched over his desk, sticky notes stuck to every part of the wall and desk. Bill heard you walk in and shot up from his chair. “Oh, am I glad to see you!” Bill approached you with open arms.

“What are you doing, Bill?” You tried your best to sound menacing but your voice betrayed you. “I’m just trying to convince your dad to talk to me again. Do you think that’s possible?” He grabs your arm and pulls you to the desk. “Or maybe shedding your blood on the post-it notes would fasten the process?” His hands dig in the cabinet, pulling up a box cutter. You watch in horror as the blade pops out. “My blood won’t solve anything!” You said, trying to yank your arm away from his grip but it was too tight. “Then should I spill your blood and his?” He has the blade to your arm and you do your very best to stay still. Any movement and you'll surely rip some skin open. You sit in a pool of your own anxiety, waiting for Bill to slash your arm open but he never does. He drops the box cutter and shoves you. “Doing that will only make him hate me even more!” He yells, bashing his head on the wall repeatedly. 

“Hey!” You pull him back by the shoulder. “Are you trying to give yourself a headache!” Bill ignores you and sits back down on the chair, obsessively writing post-it notes where he begs for Ford’s forgiveness. And for a while, that’s how they communicated. Through notes. At some point, the whole room was covered in writings of both Bill and Ford. When that didn’t work, he tapped a snake to Ford’s journal. It was back and forth of childish antics between the two of them.

The more this progressed the more sleep deprived Ford became, the more paranoid he grew. “There’s no other options left.” He said, running his hands down his head. “I was stupid to believe I could defeat Bill and I thought Fiddleford would’ve had something, but he didn’t. Just a ripped up picture of us from college.” In his hands were the two pieces of the photo. You reached a dead end and you’re not sure if you can escape this one. “Has Fiddleford answered your calls?” He asks, thumb caressing the photo of Fiddleford. 

“He answered.” You crack your fingers. “He, uh…Doesn’t remember us.” 

“What do you mean he doesn’t remember us?” 

“I don’t know, he just asked who I was and why I kept calling. And when I told him about you and me he said I got the wrong person and hung up.” Heartbreak, after heartbreak. Nothing good seemed to come out of this situation and you were growing tired of all of it. You haven’t even gone outside to catch a breath of fresh air. You were too afraid Bill was lurking, waiting for you to be alone so he could find a twisted way to convince Ford to be on his side again.

Ford clenched the hand where the photo of himself was. Tears dripped from his eyes and down to the floor. “I’m so sorry for pulling you into this, kiddo.” He says. “You didn’t know that this was going to be the outcome, Dad. It’s okay.” You pull him for a hug. “I was so obsessed with finding answers that I–” Ford stopped himself with a garbled sob. “You didn’t know, Dad.” This was all too real, all too scary. You didn’t even want to think about how it would end. 

The months passed through your fingers and before you could sit back and relax, winter was here. Your favorite season. You were unsure on how to feel. The last winter was filled with memories to remember but thinking back on them only brought a chill to your heart. One day, a knock was heard from outside. “Dad!” You run over to get him, your heart bashing against your ribcage. “There’s someone at the door.” A year prior to this, you would’ve been more than happy to open the door, but considering what has happened the last few months, anything that dealt with leaving home was mind numbingly terrifying. “It’s okay. If anything happens, hide in the lab.” 

Arming himself with a crossbow, he opened the door. Aiming the crossbow at the person in front of him. “Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome.” A gruff voice spoke. “Stanley,” Ford drops the crossbow. “Did anyone follow you, anyone at all?”

“Eh, hello to you too, pal.” Ford grabs him by the collar and pulls him in, shutting the door behind him. “[Name], flashlight please! And hurry!” Ford holds out his hand and you place the flashlight you found discarded on the floor in his hand. “W-What? Who?” Ford flashes the lights in his eyes. “Ah! Hey,” The man in the beanie pushes Ford’s hands down. “What is this?” Then his eyes trail over to you. “And who is this?” The gears turn in his head and his eyebrows furrow in shock. “You have a kid!” 

“That’s not the point.” Ford urged him to come in. He followed, his eyes never leaving you. “Hi, Uncle.” You nervously waved at him. “Does he talk about me?” Stan asks but he was pulled away from you before you could answer. Ford began spilling to him how he couldn’t trust no one, no one except him. Collecting all the books in his hands he went to the portal, you and Stan behind. 

Showing him the portal, he explained how he’s the only person he could trust with the last notebook. He tells Stan to sail far away to keep the book from getting into the wrong hands. ”That’s it?” Stan clenches the book in his hand, a scowl on his face. “I finally get to see you after 17 years and the first thing you tell me is to get as far away from you as possible?” 

“Stanley, you don't understand what we’re up against. What we’ve been through!” Ford walks past Stan, his hand gripping his hair. “We? C’mon, Stanford. Don’t tell me you dragged your kid into this.” 

An argument unfolded and no matter how hard you tried to stop them from fighting, they continued on. It got to the point where it got physical and where Stan got injured. Ford came to his side, asking if he was okay. Stan, overrun by anger pushed him, Ford’s back slamming against the lever which powered on the portal. Your stomach drops. Last time that portal was on, you lost Fiddleford, you can’t lose your dad too. 

Shoving the book into Ford’s chest was the last straw that broke the bridge. The portal sucked up Ford, suspended in the air he threw the book towards Stan. You ran over to grab your dad but he was too far beyond your reach. Your breathing was quickened and your head was spinning. You couldn’t believe this was happening. 

“Uncle Stan, do something!” 

“Stanley, do something!” 

His name was being shouted in his ears, overwhelmed he didn’t know what to do. Ford was fully sucked in and the portal shut off, blasting you and Stan back. When you recovered from the initial blast, you got up to your feet and grabbed the switch. You pulled with all your might, but nothing worked. “Uncle Stan!” You sobbed out. “Do something, please! Help me!” 

“K-Kid, I…” He walks towards you. His words were failing him, he didn’t know what to say. He had just ripped your father away from you and he lost his brother. Not knowing what else to do, he wraps you in a hug as you painfully sob into his jacket. 

“I’m sorry, kid.” 

@catr4dora @squ4respace i hope u guys liked it!! i wrote it with u guys in mind LMFAO and if u didn't im so sorry gulp

[neuvistar]

❝ WATCH ME MOVE MY HIPS TO IT! ❞ signed. jjk men . wc 1296 .

— featuring ┊satoru gojo, suguru geto, choso kamo, kento nanami x fem!reader ( all separate )

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual!, not proofread bc lazy bum activities, reverse cowgirl ( suguru geto, kento nanami ), titplay ( are we surprised ), hair pulling ( kento nanami, suguru geto ) titsucking ( choso kamo ), reader referred 2 as “girl” a few times, nicknames used. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. | 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒? @sugutiva @veraiism

— a/n ┊it’s been so long since i wrote something 4 jjk 🙉🙈 here it is!!! ngl this was basically a free write it has no specific theme except… u.. riding them… 🤗 ++ tbh i got the fic idea while listening 2 the song “put a little umph in it” by jagged edge ft. ashanti!!! 🙈

⊹ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎: ❝ 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓! ❞

satoru’s heart thudded recklessly within his chest, as you rode his aching cock, your hips rolling against his own with a soft smirk curling on his lips. “fuck," he hissed, grasping your hips to control your wriggles, eyes widening as your pussy spawned around him. there was a surge of possessiveness in your movements as you practically claimed his cock, drool slipping from your pretty lips. "you’re reeaally needy today, aren’t you?” he nibbled at your neck, suckling at your skin—a small grin forming as he whispered against your ear. "pretty. so pretty.” your movements were rhythmic, the way you slammed yourself down against his cock was completely calculated and deliberate. the desire within you, the desire to squeeze his cock filled your mind, it was almost overwhelming. satoru on the other hand was addicted to the sensation of your heat—the way your inner walls clenched around him, the way your juices coated his cock was enough to drive him in a frenzy. “your c-cock..” that embarrassing word was all you could muster, your fingers trembling against his shoulders

“yeah? what about it, baby?” satoru’s tongue traced the shape of your earlobe, nipping at it playfully, his voice a husky, sensual whisper against your ear. “g—give me your cock. feels so fucking good, satoru..” you managed to whimper as you rode his dick at a ferocious pace, your tits bouncing against his chest— you felt his hand release your neck as he fondled with your breasts. you could almost feel him bucking his hips upwards, desperate to match your pace on his cock— his eyes flickering downwards, taking in the swell of your breasts as they bounced, whistling as he reached out, gently cupping them in his hands. satoru’s thumb teased over your nipple, his slender fingers dug into the supple softness of your breast, kneading them as his thrusts grew more erratic. “i’ll give you my cock, baby. it’s all yours… all yours tonight.”

⊹ 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎: ❝ 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓! ❞

suguru watched you fuck yourself on his dick—your back in full view as you rode him. the bed squeaked beneath you both with every movement, every slam of your body against his crotch, each jiggle of your ass sending shivers down his spine. "look at you, sweetheart." suguru praised, his hands gripping your waist "perfect little thing you are.” you were so fucking hot right now, and he couldn't get enough of you. your moans drove him wild, his own need growing with each passing second. “faster, come on now.. i know you can go faster than this, let’s make this good." suguru hissed, his hands gripped your hips even tighter than before, nails digging deep within the flesh of your body—practically forcing you to bounce on his cock at a quicker pace, the sensation of your tight walls gripping his cock driving him to the edge. suguru felt the bead of sweat rolling down his forehead, his body slick with a sheen of perspiration. “suguru.. f—feels too good,” your breathing became heavier, the room filled with the sound of the bed creaking with each thrust he made from behind. he could feel his release nearing, the room was filled with tension, the air thick with the scent of sex and the sounds of passion.

“i know it feels good, baby.” suguru’s hand reached out, fingers lacing around your hair, tugging gently.. forcing you to lean backwards, your breasts bouncing as you did so, presented to him in a way that made his eyes widen, his breath hitching in his chest. “you like how my cock feels, huh?” he buried his face against your neck, inhaling the sweet smell of arousal. he was giving you control for once, allowing you to feel his submission while you slammed yourself on his dick repeatedly, hoping it would break down the walls he had built around himself these past few days. he flicked his finger against your perked nipple, his actions urgent and desperate, his need for you palpable. “you’re losing control, sweet baby… it’s such a beautiful sight.”

⊹ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎: ❝ ‘𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇! ❞

choso held your hips tightly, pulling you back onto him with every thrust, his gaze glued to the sight of you bouncing on his cock. “baby please,” he could feel the heat of your body, the wetness that coated him, heat surrounding both of you. his own body glistened with essence of exhaustion, the exertion of the act adding to the fire that raged within him. choso’s cock throbbed deep within you, the pleasure almost unbearable, yet he wanted more. he wanted to possess you fully, to claim you tonight. “baby.. baby give me more, fuck..” the bed squeaked loudly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room as he couldn’t take it anymore, thrusting upwards into your soaked cunt, his body aching for release. “i need to feel you.” choso’s voice is low, demanding almost. choso’s hands expertly teased your tits he loved so much, lowering his head to take one into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it with ease. your moan of surprise spurred him on, and he moved to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. choso was lost in the swell of hedonistic pleasure, his mind clouded by the sensation of his pretty girl’s body, hot and slick, wrapped around him.

his hands gripped onto your breasts, knuckles white as he watched your body rock against him, the bed’s motion and creaking testament to the heated coupling. a low moan rumbled in his throat as he twirled his tongue against your nipple, the act as much an expression of pleasure as dominance. choso’s mind raced, tangled up in the web of emotions and lust that consumed his body. your bodies moved in harmony, skin slapping against skin in a rhythm that bordered on primal. "baby.. your hips.. so g—good,” he groaned, his words were a mix of praise and a plea for more. “more.. you’re going to give me more, right?”

⊹ 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈: ❝ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐀 ‘𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐓! ❞

nanami could hardly believe that he'd managed to stay awake through the night after such an exhausting day, fucking your cunt without pause. his body was covered in a light sheen of sweat, his cock still buried deep inside your tight pussy as you rode him in his office… knowing people could walk in any second. the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, painting the room in a gentle golden light. nanami’s hand was wrapped tightly in your hair, tugging gently as you slammed yourself down onto his cock. his office chair squealed with each impact, your ass coming in contact with his pelvis with each movement. nanami’s grip on your hair tightened as your eyes rolled back, his own eyes locked onto your body as he watched you ride him. “ken..” you were so fucking beautiful, so sexy, that he didn't want it to end. nanami wanted to watch you push yourself onto his cock for the rest of the day, but he knew he couldn't hold out much longer. his eyes devour the sight infront of him, it was considered a blessing that he had the opportunity to see you in your most vulnerable state… his eyes trailing down your back, giving him quite the view he admired.

nanami groaned lowly, his voice raw with lust as he watched his dick enter you in and out with an unbridled ferocity. the office room, your secret sanctuary, filled with the symphony of pleasure and the warmth of your bodies pressed against one another. his hands tugged at your hair, the sweet sting of pleasure and pain. “you feel heavenly,” he hissed, his grip tightening as he pushed into you with a slow, deliberate rhythm. the intensity of the moment, his pent of desires threatened to consume him completely. “my beautiful girl..“

[jpnriikicore]

── super shy

paring stiles stilinski x mccall!reader, word count 1k, genre fluff, authors note ngl this is my fav writing piece i've done so far 🫶🏻( masterlist )

your standing on the bleachers during a lacrosse practice before tonight’s game. as your a photographer for the year book club you decided to take a few pictures of the lacrosse team for the page that was going to be dedicated to them.

you zoomed your lens in on one player in particular, stiles stilinski. he was talking with the coach - well, more like arguing which wasn’t unusual for the two. you snap a few pictures of him. truth be told, you had a crush on stilinski since fourth grade finding the boy's humor and sarcasm charming.

as he gets back into line to continue to practice he notices you and waves at you. you back away from the camera shyly waving back at him.

you sit down on the bleachers searching through your bag to find a different lens. you were too busy with finding the lens that you completely ignored the sound of someone walking up the bleachers.

"you coming to the game tonight?" his voice slightly startled you as you look up at him. he knew that it was a stupid question. you came to every single game, but he got to nervous and just asked the first question that came to his mind.

he was always incredibly nervous in front of you. either he’s to shy to talk to you which like never happens when talking with anyone else. if you asked everybody else in the school if stiles was talkative or not they would reply that stiles never shuts up. or he would ramble on about the most stupidest topics. well, he believed that it was stupid, but you didn’t you find it to add to his charm and personality.

"yeah!" you nodded looking up at him.

"stilinski!" coach yelled grabbing the attention of the two teenagers.

"see you there," he pointed finger guns at her. she smiled at the playful action. "i-i gotta go get back to practice." he pointed with his thumb behind towards the field.

"yeah, okay. see you at the game stilinski."

luckily, stiles wasn’t on the bench anymore and actually got to play. you sat down on the bleachers next the sheriff and your mom, melissa. like normal game day your wearing braids with red ribbons and a red sweater due to the cold weather with the number '11' on the back to support your brother.

you bought your camera to take a few more pictures. though you tried to take pictures of all of the players fairly for the yearbook you couldn’t help, but notice that the majority of the pictures you took was of stiles. you put your camera down to focus on the game happening in front of you. you looked over to the scoreboard taking notice that beacon hills was winning a few points ahead.

stiles glanced over at you and now is completely emerged about the thought of you. his mind wasn’t focused on the game by any means. you looked too alluring making all his interest go on you. the wind moves a few pieces of your hair that managed to get loose from your braids that exposed '24' painted in red on your cheek. it was a small subtle thing, but it made butterflies irrupt in his stomach.

he managed to get his focus back on the game after getting snapped back into reality by scott. he threw the ball into the net scoring the last point for beacon hills to win. while the other players celebrated he searched for you in the crowd that formed on the field.

you snapped a few more pictures of the players celebrating after the win before packing up your camera equipment which lead to you being one of the last ones to get off the bleachers. you walked through the crowd trying to find your brother to tell him congratulations.

stiles found you first though rushing up to you lifting you up from the ground spinning you around. in shock a few giggles escaped your mouth. a rush of excitement and adrenaline filled stiles as his body reacted before his mind could comprehend what he was doing. he kissed you.

"do you want to go on a date with me?" the words slipped without him thinking by the time he realized it was too late to backtrack his question. he swallowed nervously waiting for your answer.

"i would love to." you nodded, smiling up at him. you held his hand as you walk to the parking lot to your truck. you could tell your brother congratulations once he got home.

you chuck your camera equipment in the passenger seat through the rolled down window of the drivers seat. once you turns around to face stiles once again he trapped you between his body and the truck. his hand resting on the truck and the other carefully cradling your jaw. he leans in kissing you yet again. you melted into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him closer. you could definitely get used to this.

"can i see the pictures you took?" he mumbled against your lips.

"yeah." you nodded reaching for the bag that sitting in the driver seat and unzips it getting the camera. you turn to him as you turn the camera on handing it to him. a bright smile paints his face.

"seems like you have a crush on someone." he teased, playfully pushing his shoulder on yours. you looks down in embarrassment kicking the small pebbles in the parking lot with you shoe.

"i've had a crush on you since fourth grade." you admitted lowly.

"i've had a crush on you since we met in the sandbox."

your face lit up at his confession. one night could truly change everything. at one point of tonight you was just childhood friends now you planned on going on a date next friday and kissed twice within the span of five minutes. what you believed was unrequited love for so many years turns out not to be as unrequited as what you believed.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2023

[themultifanshipper]

You hadn’t seen Oscar in years. Not since the two of you broke up back in 2018. Now it was 2027 and he was holding his hand out to you expectantly, as half the MTC stared at the two of you.

Warnings: Zak Brown, driver!reader, reader is friends with Carlos Sainz², jealous Oscar, Oscar is a real prick in this one, hate sex, rough sex, ROUGH sex, I’m not kidding with this one guys it’s angry rough bordering on noncon painful hate sex, like choking almost to the point of passing out, having no regard for the other person’s comfort/safety, overstimulation, pure unbridled animalistic rage in this one guys, beware, also not a happy ending

Ngl, I wrote the first half of this months ago and it was supposed to be super light-hearted, then the angst overtook my brain last night at 3am so… just beware

He was moving to formula Renault, you were bored of single seaters.

You wanted to explore rallying, he wanted to explore his teammates.

You know, the usual things 17 year olds want to do.

The breakup was mutual, sure, but what it lacked was closure. The two of you drifted apart and eventually called it all off, via skype. But you had never looked back, and neither had he. You hadn’t even really thought about him in years.  

Since then, you had made a name for yourself in rallying, nascar, even hanging out in WEC for a season, before going back. When you got a call out of the blue from the one and only Zak Brown, who had apparently been following your career with interest, you could only accept to meet him. He took you around the MTC and even made you do some tests in the sim, then asked if you would be up for testing the car during the season.

“You are being considered to fill one of our seats next year. One of my drivers is having talks with RedBull and I’m covering my bases.” He explained.

You never registered that Oscar was the other McLaren driver. For the next year, you never saw him, and when anyone mentioned his name, your brain apparently blocked it out.

 After extensive individual testing and sim work to make sure you were ready, the thought that you would even have a teammate had completely slipped your mind.

So, there you were, staring into those brown eyes, a month before the beginning of the season, as Oscar waited for you to shake his hand. You realised you’d been staring at him silently for what must have been well over thirty seconds, as the staff around you shuffled around awkwardly.

Zak, who had just ‘introduced’ you, was just looking back and forth between you two, wondering why the hell nobody was speaking.

“You guys need a minute?...”

Still no answer, so he sighed and backed away from you, grumbling “What have I done?... I miss Lando already.”

Once Zak had disappeared from view, Oscar finally dropped his hand and scowled.

“I thought we were going to be civil about this, but if that’s how you want to play it in front of Zak, then that’s fine.” He started to walk away but you cut him off.

“No, wait! I’m sorry!” you rushed out “I just- forgot you were going to be here”

He scoffed. “Here? At my place of work for the past 4 years?”

“No! I mean- I guess my brain hadn’t really assimilated the fact that we… we’re teammates again…”

Something softened in his features for a split second before his face became blank once again. “Yeah? Well, I’m not the same person I was back then, so try not to get distracted. We’re aiming for a constructor’s championship this season, which won’t happen if you’re too busy mooning over me.”

You were speechless as he walked away smoothly, saying hello to a few engineers on the way. What the fuck was his problem? He had become a right arsehole in the 9 years since you’d last spoken. 2027 Oscar was a dick.

He’d also become the broadest, sluttiest proportioned man you’d ever seen as your eyes roamed over his large shoulders and tiny waist before coming to rest on his full, round behind.

Wow.

Zak Brown finally came back, with a rather large coffee cup in his hands. “Ah good, that’s over! Now why don’t we go into my office and we can go over the rest of the formalities for the new-“     Needless to say you didn’t listen to a word that was said in that office.

The thing about having special dispensation to drive in formula 1, is that there was a lot more scrutiny on you than the other drivers. Never mind the fact you were a woman on top of that. Luckily for you though, you had enough talent to go around.

You were fifth in the championship by the time the summer break rolled around, and you couldn’t be happier. Not that you weren’t enjoying the season so far, but the championship battle was intense. Between Redbull having Charles and Lando, You and Oscar in arguably the fastest car, Ollie and Lewis having as much fun in a Ferrari as expected, and even Kimi and George, who managed to grab a fair few podiums with a shitbox of a Mercedes, the margins separating all of you were extremely small, only forty two points between you and Charles in P1.

And although you hadn’t won a race yet, which was pretty normal given that you were a rookie going against the likes of these guys, the commentators and journalists had nothing but praise for you. And you basked in the glory with unbridled satisfaction.

You were on a yacht during summer break, a two day expedition (more like a two day free cruise) and Carlos Sainz Jr (former F1 driver, and your old rally teammate) was on the sun lounger next to you. His father was on one of the lower decks, no doubt hassling the maids for sandwiches.

“Do not worry muñequita, the season will go fine. Oscar just needs time to adjust to having you back in his life basically 24/7”

He pulled you into his lap and started kissing over your chest. Hands roaming over your body as he grumbled “Just like I need to adjust to not having you around all the time…” His mouth wasted no time travelling downwards, your bikini bottoms soon tossed aside, as he made the most of the temporary absence of his father.

You weren’t together really, but your relationship had grown close ever since his dad had helped you get into rallying and you two had subsequently become teammates when he retired from F1 when Williams didn't pan out. Carlos was an amazing lover, and as a woman in motorsports you couldn’t afford any bad PR being viewed as a slut, you needed convenience and discretion, so the arrangement was perfect.

Unfortunately, the next day paparazzi showed up and got some pictures of the two of you. Nothing explicit of course, but it was enough to fuel a few rumours and spice up silly season until the end of the summer break.

During the week leading up to the first race, Oscar was a real sour puss (more than usual anyway) and he kept giving you dirty looks. And he was distracted to the point where his sim runs were just getting worse and worse.

Then there were the snarky remarks. Like when you’d spilled a water jug in the cafeteria and he’d said something like “Messy in all aspects of life, then?”. Or when your car got scratched while parked in the MTC parking lot. He walked past, saw the scratch, snorted derisively and said “Karma’s a bitch, ay” before getting into his own car and driving off.

You had no idea what had gotten into him, but this had to stop, one way or another.

You cornered him in his driver’s room on Sunday morning before the race.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you snapped, storming into his room without even bothering to knock.

He looked up from where he was sitting on the sofa, scrolling on his phone, but he didn't look phased in the slightest.

“I don't know what you're talking about”

“Oh fuck off! Ever since I joined McLaren you've been a complete dick to me and since we came back from break it's been getting even worse!”

He shrugged and looked back at his phone, which enraged you.

So you did the rational thing and walked over to him, ripped his phone out of his hands to see what could possibly be more interesting than-

You froze upon seeing his screen.

It was one of the more… interesting shots of you and Carlos on the yacht from a few weeks ago.

He stood up and grabbed his phone back, but the damage was done.

Not only was it a picture of you and Carlos, but it wasn't on social media, it was in his camera roll.

He'd saved it onto his phone.

The cogs started turning in your head.

‘Messy in all aspects of life’ he’d said.

This was what he was referencing.

You looked into his eyes and they were filled with thinly veiled rage.

“Is this why? Are you fucking jealous?”

He scoffed and pushed past you.

“I most certainly am not. I hope you and Carlos are very happy together.”

He took his shirt off as aggressively as he could and started putting on his fireproofs.

“Me and Carlos aren't together you prick.”

“Really? So what's the deal then? Does he just get to fuck you?”

“What's it to you? You scared of playing second fiddle to Carlos Sainz?”

That made him halt his movements.

“What?” his hands balled into fists.

“You fucking heard me” you spat.

He turned around slowly, his shoulders tense and his nostrils flared.

“You'd better not be suggesting that he's better than me”

You crossed your arms in defiance. “We were 17 and inexperienced, Oscar, it's not hard to do better than that.”

Something animalistic flashed in his eyes. “I guess I need to change your perception of me if you're going to compare me to that fucking loser”

You laughed in his face, but under the surface you were uneasy at the implications.

“Good luck with that one mate”

“Yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow as he prowled towards you menacingly. “Is he that unbelievable? Does he make you come? Does he fuck you like he means it? Does he make you tremble with need underneath him? Does he make you scream his name?”

He towered over you, only a few inches separating your faces.

“Because I guarantee, once you get a taste of me you won't be going back to him.”

“Do your worst” you whispered, fully turned on by this angry side of Oscar.

“Oh I’m going to” he smirked, “but right now I have a race to win”

And with that he backed off, leaving you unconsciously gripping the edge of the table you’d been cornered against.

As you crossed the threshold of his doorway on your way out, you muttered “coward”, fully intending for him to hear it.

And thank God Oscar didn’t, because if he had, you wouldn’t have been able to get in a car after he’d had his way with you.

You were distracted the whole race. Nerves ran down your spine as you took each corner, not wrong enough to hit a wall, but wrong enough to slow you down.

“Concentrate, please. Leclerc is closing the gap, we don’t want to endanger Oscar’s chances” your engineer muttered over the radio.

“Fuck Oscar” you said, which was entirely unhelpful, and if aired was going to attract quite a bit of backlash.

Fortunately for you, Oscar seemed to be having similar difficulties. He’d dipped his rear tyres into the gravel a couple of times, and with 39 lap old mediums, that meant he was becoming significantly slower than you, being on slightly fresher ones.

You eventually caught up to him, and Charles caught up to you.

You should have been let past. You were faster, you could guarantee a McLaren win. Oscar should have listened to team orders. You shouldn’t have forced him wide to get past when he refused to listen to reason. He shouldn’t have hit you while defending his inside line. You shouldn’t have ended up beached in the gravel trap, Oscar’s car spinning alongside yours. Charles shouldn’t have won that race.

You and Oscar shouldn’t have started brawling on the edge of the track.

Alas...

The loud slam of your driver’s room door against the wall startled you, as if you weren’t expecting it. As if you hadn’t been waiting for him.

As if Oscar hadn’t spat ‘you won’t be able to walk tomorrow’ at you as the marshalls dragged you apart.

As if you weren’t already dripping at the thought of Oscar taking his anger out on you and making you pay for what happened.

His hand was around your throat before you could think too much about it. You were pinned down on the table, nails scratching at the arm that held you down against the cool wood.

The fact that you were soaked was evident as soon as he forced his other hand into your underwear and felt how slick your folds were, and he immediately used his fingers to make you fall apart at the seams as he found the spot that made you weak and abused it repeatedly, his thumb pressing rough circles onto your poor clit.

Only when you’d come twice from his fingers alone was he satisfied.

He’d changed into sweatpants at some point, making it easier for him to pull his hard cock out while still holding you down.

You were used and oversensitive, and the sight of his thickness made you squirm and attempt to tell him to stop, but you didn’t get the chance.

The fingers around your throat were barely letting you breathe, much less get words out, not to mention that you were getting so lightheaded you doubted if your words would even be comprehensible if you did manage to utter them.

When his tip breached you, you tensed, waiting for him to go all the way, but he didn’t.

He waited until you relaxed before he slammed into you, probably bruising your cervix and making sure he made good on his trackside promise.

If you’d been able to make a sound, you would have probably been heard all the way across the paddock. The aching pain just served to add to the fog that was slowly invading your mind as he wasted no time pulling out and thrusting back in with even more force.

It was brutal, uncaring and relentless.

This wasn’t for your pleasure, nor even for his. This was a painful reminder for you both, that you were at the mercy of the sport you dedicated your lives to. You were puppets, made to compete in the most expensive dog fight in the world and you couldn’t do anything to change that. You just had to take it, until you triumphed, or drowned in the condolent applause of failure.

These were the sort of wild thoughts a person could have after being deprived of air for long enough.

Oscar hadn’t even noticed the state you were in until your grip on his arm weakened, and he panicked slightly and quickly loosened his grip, allowing you to heave in the first proper breath you’d had in minutes.

The reprieve didn’t last long though, because he leaned over you and kissed you, more teeth and tongue than a real kiss, but it was all either of you could manage, being so close to the brink of extasy you hadn’t even noticed you’d been nearing. Your body rocked against the table with the powerful movement of his hips slapping yours, the combined sweat of your bodies making the surface slippery.

Your throat was sore, and all you could manage was a pitiful whine as you were tossed over the edge of the precipice, and Oscar jumped with you, both of you panting and moaning into each other’s mouths as he filled you to the brim.

He didn’t stop though. He kept fucking you through it, overstimulating you and himself, both of you crying out into the stale air of your driver’s room.

His anger and desperation could be felt in his unrelenting pace, frenzied thrusts pushing you further and further up the table each time.

Your shared tears mingled with your sweat, clouding your visions as you just kept going.

 It hurt, but that didn’t matter when it was just the two of you, together, bodies colliding, unspoken words hanging between you.

It hurt, but it felt good.

The pain grounded you, making sure you stayed locked in even when you couldn't breathe.

He filled you up again and again, until he physically couldn’t anymore. He pulled out without care and pulled his sweats back up.

He took in your appearance: skin flushed, glistening with sweat and tears, bruises forming around your neck, puffy cunt leaking onto the table… pathetic.

He made his way to the door but stopped just as his hand touched the handle.

“Don’t try that shit ever again” and the next thing you heard was the door slam behind him.

You both knew you would do it again. And he would do it as soon as he got the chance, probably leading to another crash.

And you would probably end up right back here, used and spent, unable to move.

Tears sprang to your eyes, anyone could walk in and see you like this, utterly destroyed physically and mentally by your teammate.

It took you several minutes to gather the energy to move, and when you did the pain flashed across your body once again.

He'd used you, made you take it until he had nothing left to give. Until you lay there, broken like a discarded toy.

But God, you both knew you craved it.

[mynahx3]

One Moment Was All It Took Part 2

Here’s the part 2 of Soulmate Gojo based off of @envy-of-the-apple HC !!! Prob gonna have like 6 parts ngl lolol Hope everyone enjoys, might be able to get part 3 out by Mon if my schedule remains open.  Warning this chapter has non con touching, drugging, kidnapping, fighting w/ mentions of blood!! If this disturbs you please don’t read Next part with prob be spicy Masterlist

A couple weeks  have passed since that cafe incident, and it completely slipped your mind—something you laughed about with your fiance when you got home that day. He wasn't very amused, but you brushed it off as just a strange encounter. Your mind was preoccupied with the upcoming wedding in the coming months. The colorful sticky notes with wedding tasks covered the calendar on your fridge, each one a reminder of the preparations ahead, and a sense of giddiness filled you whenever you glanced at the detailed schedule.

You sit perched on a stool in your cozy kitchen, meticulously reviewing wedding preparations on your laptop. Your eyes stung slightly as you read the screen, a frown evident on your face, longing for your fiance's presence to assist you. He had to attend a sudden business trip that took him out of the country.

It was good news, meaning his boss began to trust him with more responsibilities, but it also meant you were left to handle the wedding planning on your own for the time being. You were pleased to see him advancing in his career, yet you also felt somewhat overwhelmed by the additional responsibilities you had to manage.

After stretching, you stand up to take a break when the doorbell rings. Confusion overwhelms you as you approach the door, peering through the peephole to find nobody there. You open the door, keeping the chain attached as you look around. No one was there. While closing the door, you notice a vase filled with beautiful flowers on your welcome mat. A smile blooms on your face at the sight of the flowers, and you bring them into your apartment.

The flowers looked expensive in a beautiful crystal vase with a note attached to the neck of it, trimmed with gold. It reads, "Thinking of you always, even from afar. S." Your heart swells with warmth as you assume it was your fiance's thoughtful gesture. Pulling out your phone, you decide to call them and thank them for the surprise. The line rings for a few seconds before he answers, his voice happy and excited to hear from you. Noise in the background, likely from his busy office.

"Well, aren't you the romantic?" You say this, admiring the flowers sitting in front of you. A bright smile on your face as you hold your phone to your ear.

"What did I do this time?" He asked with a laugh, not understanding what you meant. You chuckle at his confusion, feeling even more grateful for his thoughtfulness.

"The flowers you sent, silly," you reply, feeling the softness of the petals on your fingertips. "Thank you, baby."

The line is silent—so silent that you think the phone dropped. Just as you were about to hang up and call back, he spoke.

"Honey… I didn't send you anything." Your smile fades at his words, your heart sinking as you wonder who could have possibly sent such a thoughtful gift.

"I'm… I'm sure the delivery person just got the wrong apartment." You shrug, looking around it to see if there was anything else written on the card—the only piece of paper on it.

Turning it over, your heart drops, and you see your name written in the golden ink with a heart next to it. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the implications, but you choose to keep it to yourself. Not wanting to ruin his mood and throw him off during such an important meeting.

"I'll just ask the front desk if anyone asks about them; I'd hate for whoever sent them to be mad that it went to the wrong person." You laugh as you crumble the card up in your hand.

"Now I feel bad I didn't get that idea." Your fiance' laughs, your nerves easing a little at the sound. "Promise I'll do something way better, sweet cheeks."

The corny nickname makes you laugh and roll your eyes. Since your high school days, he had always been cheesy and overly romantic, qualities you cherished. In the years that you supported one another, you both experienced a great deal. Despite the difficulties, you both emerged stronger after transitioning from broke college students to starting careers together in Japan. At times, he couldn't express his love in the most conventional ways, but his efforts were always genuine and appreciated.

"I got to go, babe. Another meeting is about to start." He sighed, his coworkers shouting his name over the phone. "I love you; I'll be home in a few weeks."

"I love you too." You smile happily, hearing him give you kisses through the receiver before hanging up.

You're left to your own thoughts, the vase sitting pretty in front of you. Mind trying to figure out who must have sent them. Being the taken woman you were, you couldn't figure out who must have sent them, if not your fiance'. The mystery sender lingered in your mind for a bit. But you brush it off, moving on with your day, thinking maybe a family member or friend sent them. Going on with the rest of your day, a day filled with phone calls and scheduling, you forget about the bouquet sitting on your counter.

The flowers should have been the first clue, a warning sign of what was to come. Over time, you begin to feel uneasy, feeling constantly watched. Small things in your apartment were moved or went missing—things you know you didn't touch before leaving. Additional gifts mysteriously appeared on your doorstep, each accompanied by intricately detailed notes, intensifying in their personal nature.

Fury consumed you as you unwrapped another package, revealing a set of lacy lingerie in your size and favorite color. A note with it, written in the familiar handwriting, simply said, "For our special night." The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: someone has been in your home, watching your every move. Fear grips you as you realize the extent of the intrusion into your personal space. You burned that gift without a second thought; any other gift was sent to the trash.

Your nights were restless, alone in your apartment—or at least, you hoped you were alone. The feeling of being watched grew stronger, causing you to constantly look over your shoulder. You couldn't shake the feeling that someone was always nearby, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal themselves. The once innocent gifts and flowers now felt like a sinister presence in your life, leaving you on edge and paranoid. You had even gone to the police, informing them what was happening, but they said they couldn't do anything without concrete evidence of a threat. This only added to your growing sense of dread.

Walking home from lunch with your friends, you decided to detour to a park, needing a moment of solitude. Sitting on a bench, cherry blossoms fall around you, their delicate petals drifting to the ground like whispers of reassurance, offering a sense of peace and tranquility in the midst of your fear.

As you take deep breaths and enjoy the gentle wind tousling your hair, you fail to notice someone sitting beside you as you drift off in thought. A tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality with a jump. Looking at where it came from, your eyes widen in shock at the white haired man sitting next to you. It took a second before your mind recognized him; he was the man from the cafe. There was a smile on his face, perfect as you remembered, one that brought you an icy feeling down your spine. He tilted his head, holding a single flower to you, a ribbon tied to its stem.

"Fancy seeing you here." He grinned.

Feeling unsure of how to react, you stared at the man with bewilderment, your heart beating fast. You weren't stupid enough to trust him, frowning at his close proximity. His presence put you on edge, as memories of what he said weeks ago ran through your mind. Knowing he was the one behind the unsettling messages you have been receiving the last week. Pouting, he let the flower droop a little in his hand once he realized you wouldn't take it from him.

"Don't be like that." He sighed dramatically, dropping the flower to his side, eyeing your form.

His smile was charming, reminiscent of when you first met. His eyes twinkled mischievously over his sunglasses. Under different circumstances, you might have admitted that he was quite attractive. Now he only sent chills down your spine, especially with how comfortably he said your name, as if he had known you for years.

As your shoulders tense, you try to move away from him, but just like before, he grabs your wrist. Pulling you to sit back down with him. His grip was ironclad, unmoving as you writhed in a futile attempt to break free. Every detail of his eyes was sharp and intense, as if they were staring deep into your soul.

"You know I'm surprised; you were super easy to keep an eye on." His words dripped with chilling confidence, sending a jolt of fear through you and causing your heart to race even faster. "You should really pay more attention to your surroundings. You never know what monsters lurk out there, ready to eat up a cutie like you."

"What… what do you want?" You asked, your voice small, and your throat felt tight in fear. The grip on your wrist tightened as he leaned in closer.

"That doesn't matter right now," he said casually, his tone sending shivers down your spine. "Let's get to know each other a little."

He wraps his arm back around you, letting go of your wrist to bring your body closer to his. To anyone walking by, it would just look like a couple enjoying the spring weather together. Your body was rigid as he rubbed your shoulder a bit roughly, his cold fingers feeling your soft skin.

You wish you hadn't worn that dress today; its low neckline and thin straps gave him easy access to your skin. Goosebumps littered your arms as you tried to subtly move away from his touch. His grip tightened slightly, indicating his control over your movement. A sinking feeling in your stomach settled, and you knew you needed to get away.

"I don't want anything to do with you." You told him, wishing there wasn't a waver in your voice, wishing you stood stronger against him.

His entire energy and demeanor were intense, but there was a slight furrow in his brow at your words. It was gone as soon as you noticed it, and the same cocky grin was on his face the next second.

"Princess, I don't think you have a choice." His words sent a chill down your spine, filling you with fear at the core of your being.

Silently, he retrieved his phone and began scrolling through a series of photos. The photos displayed your family, friends, and your fiancé. Your loved ones are living their lives, oblivious to the danger they are in because of you. He even has pictures of you from the last week, going from you at work to you in your apartment in your private moments. Finally, he stops the slideshow, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

"Get where this is going?" He chuckles, edging even closer to make sure your thighs touch. "It was difficult to find any real dirt on your boy toy; he's a good guy. I will give him that, but... I know exactly how to make him disappear."

You nod slowly, feeling the lingering threat of danger in the air as you try to comprehend the gravity of the situation. His presence caused you to take short, panicked breaths. This is something he actually notices: a softer look in his eyes now while his hand moves to rub your thigh comfortingly. Your body stiffens as you feel the tip of his fingers tracing just below the hem of your dress.

"Gotta cut this short. Still have to prepare a few things real quick; I couldn't help but check in on my girl." He leans closer to kiss your cheek softly before pulling away.

You didn't respond, feeling too suffocated next to him. Your wide eyes focused on him; it seemed he wanted to be flush with you no matter how much you squirmed away. Fortunately, he doesn't prolong the moment, letting go of your shoulder and putting his hands on his knees.

"I'll come get you shortly; I don't want to keep you waiting too long." He says it playfully, winking as he puts a piece of gum in his mouth and smacks it noisily.

With that, he rises from the bench, looking down at you with a beaming smile, and turns to walk away. He disappears from sight, walking out of the park. This left you feeling worse than before as you wiped your cheek clean. Your gut feelings intensified, urging you to run.

When you got home, you immediately started packing, changing into a simple pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Hurriedly packing a bag with the bare essentials, leaving a mess behind in your wake. You didn't know exactly what you would do, yet you had to get away. The urgency of the situation propelled you forward, heedless of consequences or sacrifices.

It was unbearable to see your stalker in real life—a smack in the face of the true danger you were in. Quickly, you texted your fiance', explaining you were going to stay with a friend for a few days. Once you finally explained to him the situation with the stalker, he called to discuss the next steps.

"You should've told me what was happening."

"I know… I didn't want to worry you. This meeting was important." Tears welled in your eyes, and the stress of everything came to a head. Confiding in him finally brought you comfort, but a part of you felt guilty for not telling him sooner.

"Not more important than you and your safety, I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered into the phone, wiping any stray tears from your face.

"I'll get the next flight out. Stay at your friend's place until I get there," he said firmly. "Keep your taser on you wherever you go. Be safe."

"I will, thank you," you replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, knowing he was on his way to be by your side. The thought of having him there to support you made the situation feel more manageable.

He quickly explained the stalker situation to his boss, secured the next available flight, and ended the call upon reaching the airport. The sun had long set, and the dark sky was beginning to fill with twinkling stars, visible through the windows.

On any other night, you would have enjoyed the starry night with a glass of wine and your favorite book, but now you ignore the view. Focus on packing up for your impromptu trip away from the comforts of your home. Once you finished packing, you moved a suitcase into the living room, ready to leave.

A sudden, hard knock at the door surprises you greatly, causing you to jump. It repeats after a moment; much harsher, the door shakes in its frame. Nervously, you move silently to see who it was. Through the peephole, you see that cursed head of snow white hair, his smile as wide as ever. Stepping back, your breath catching in your throat, and your legs turning to jelly as adrenaline surged through your veins. Your stalker was outside your apartment, banging on the door while calling out your name in a joyful tone.

As escape plans raced through your mind, the realization of being in a high-floor apartment without a fire escape sank in, presenting a daunting obstacle. Panic grips you as you frantically reach for your phone in the kitchen. Just as you go to grab it, a loud, crashing sound comes from behind.

Turning around, you see the front door on the floor with a crater in it, and your stalker is smiling menacingly at you. For a moment, you both freeze, a standoff of short going on. Without hesitation, you reach for a knife from the block on the counter behind you and hold it out in front. Despite your nerves, your hands didn't shake as you pointed the sharp knife at him, a cold stare on your face.

"Get the fuck out."

The man smiles at this, laughing a bit at your attempt to intimidate him. As he stepped forward to come closer to you, his finger traced over the countertops. At that moment, you instinctively step back from him, creating distance between you. You both circled the kitchen island cautiously while he slowly removed the bandages covering his eyes.

He put the bandages on the counter, his blue eyes watching your every move like a hawk. He pauses, smirking, his hand stopping just at your phone, then quickly picks it up and crushes it in his hand. Letting the phone fall to the counter in a broken mess, he looks at you with a wide grin.

"Now we can have some real fun."

The front door was behind him; you knew you had to risk running past him or deeper into your apartment. The latter wasn't the best idea since you would be trapped in a corner with no way out but to run you would have to risk getting caught by him. With a deep breath, you made a split-second decision to dart towards the door, hoping to make it out before he could react.

As you sprint to the front door, he easily catches you, wrapping strong arms around your waist. Knife still in hand, you try to swipe at him from behind, only earning you a twist of your arm. A sharp pain radiates through your arm as he twists it more into an awkward angle, making you yell in pain and drop it to the floor in a loud clang.

Pulling you closer, he easily holds you against him, not being phased by your kicking and screams. Securing an arm around your waist, his hand held both your wrists with ease. He leans in, burying his head in the crook of your neck and taking a deep, unsettling breath. The other hand goes over your mouth to muffle your screams. In retaliation, you managed to wiggle your face out, biting down hard on his hand, your tongue flooding with a coppery taste.

This didn't seem to phase him; his blood was dripping down your chin. The metallic tang of his blood is sickening you. Nevertheless, you continue to struggle in his arms, trying to elbow him to break free. A guttural moan escapes his lips as he plants small, chilling kisses on the skin of your neck, enjoying this moment. You feel trapped, like a rat in a snake's grip, desperate for a chance to escape.

"You're so soft." He whispers into your ear, tightening his grip over you, not budging as you dig your heel into his shins.

Teeth still clenched on his hand, digging deeper for him to let go. When he didn't respond you released your jaw, you threw your head back. You hit him square in the nose, eliciting a gasp of pain from him. Blood drips from his nose as he stumbles back, momentarily stunned. Seizing the opportunity, you push him away and run as fast as you can, your heart pounding in your chest.

You run towards the door, the gaping exit mocking you, so close yet so far. You don't make it much farther; he grabs your hair harshly and throws you to the ground. On the floor, you cough and gasp for air. The impact of your back on the hardwood knocked air out of your lungs. As you crawl away from him, trying to regain your breath, he stands in front of the only exit, looking over at you with a menacing grin.

"Here, I thought it would be easy; God, I fucking love this." He wipes his nose with his sleeve, smearing blood on his face. A demented look on his face tells you that he's enjoying this far too much. "As much as I want to continue, kind of on a time crunch, babe. I'm pretty sure your lovely neighbors have already called the police."

Saying this, he crouches down, pulling you to him by your ankle. You kick at him with your other foot, one connected to his chin, but he only laughs in response, dodging any more of your attempts to fight back.

"You're a feisty one, I like that," he chuckles, tightening his grip on your ankle as he begins to drag you closer. "You're not going anywhere."

Your heart races as you desperately search for a way out of this nightmare. Keeping a hold of you, he pulls out a syringe filled with mysterious liquid from his pocket. The sight makes your heart drop. In your shock, he stabs it roughly into your thigh, pushing the liquid in. As the drug takes effect, your vision blurs and your body goes limp, leaving you at his mercy.

"Sweet dreams." He takes you into his arms, watching you fall into unconsciousness. The last thing you hear before blacking out is his sinister chuckle echoing in your ears

Hope you enjoyed lovelies! Likes/ reblogs are appreciated <3 pls no repost

[amuyyi]

y/n + her plants .

synopsis; just 3 little drabbles of y/n being the only extrovert and obsessed with plants.

trope; le sserafim x 6th member!reader, platonic , just silly poorly written stuff

wc; 2.0k

cw; none

a/n; im ngl this is just a self indulgent self insert of the author. i love female friendships! also i was half asleep writing this, but i really like the 2nd clip idk it makes me giggle a little :3 i had planned to write more, but i got tired soooo... also did not spellcheck at the end zzz please read my other works if u actually want decently written stuff

Clip 1: 

It was your turn to turn in a vlog for the week, and you decided to utilize this time to do a room tour. You grin into the camera as you make your way to you and Yunjin’s shared bedroom, opening the door and showing the interior to the camera. It was a spacious room, with posters and photographs plastered all along the walls alongside other decor such as string lights, unique shaped mirrors, and endless figurines and trinkets lined on the shelves. One of the most prominent features of the room though was the amount of pure green all throughout. There were plants quite literally everywhere. On the windowsill, hanging off the ceiling, held up on the wall, on the floor, the tables, the shelves. It felt like just about any free space was touched by mother nature herself.

You grin sheepishly as you explain, “Not many people know this– well I guess now many people will know this, but I am a super big plant person!”

The camera slowly pans over all of the plants as well as some of Yunjin’s belongings, including her guitar, glasses, and some smiski’s you two co-parent. “Thankfully Yunjin doesn’t mind me hogging up some space for my babies, and I pay her back in smiski figurines!!” Grabbing hold of a little green man on the table that was struggling to put on a sweater, you shove its face into the camera as you giggle, “I think this one's my favorite, me and Yunjin are still trying to come up with a name for him.”

You look around, trying to figure out which plant to showcase first before you catch sight of one particular plant you enjoy. “Oh! I want to show you guys my favorite pot…” The camera pans to a comically large and rather beat up leather boot, which humbly held home to a mini monstera within its space. 

“It was a random shoe I found near a river during filming one time. Viney here seems to enjoy it,” You grin, accidentally letting it slip that you name every single one of your plants as well as touch random garbage you find outside before you showcase another “pot,”  being a mug that had the words “Live Laugh Love” plastered boldly on the side as you snicker, “this one just makes me laugh. Jen hates it, but I don’t think she can recognize the beauty in irony.”

You let out a sigh as you make your way towards your bed, plopping down onto it as you speak. “Y’know, I personally believe I’m a great candidate to collaborate on a show with Chuu, Tsuki, and Yuqi sunbaenim,” the ramble starts, completely derailing from the original topic of plants as you speak. Your tone is lighthearted and playful, but you’re being completely serious as you continue, “I want to do a bunch of random jobs and harass random people on the street!! I’m perfectly capable of doing that! I’d do that even if I wasn’t getting paid!” 

You start to laugh, realizing how ridiculous you started to sound, but you didn’t care, you pressed the topic on. “If I weren't an idol I’d make a great farmer! Why haven’t I gotten invited to be a farmer with Chuu sunbaenim??” An endless string of various other jobs as well as explanations behind why you would qualify for every one of them begins to spew out of your mouth. You were always a major talker, and quite literally had no filter nor shame when it came to what you had to say. More often than not, you were leading conversations at social events if Chaewon hadn’t already beat you to it– and having alone time with your own thoughts and a camera to record it all was a recipe for disaster.

At the end of your rant, you find yourself slightly winded before making direct eye contact with the camera, pointing your finger directly into it as you announce, “If any TV company is out there watching this right now, this is my application to be a guest on one of your shows! Any job will do, I’ll do it! But just know I’ll leave you farmers in the dust if you put me out in the fields. Watch your back.”

As a last “threat” to broadcasters all around the world, you threateningly do a “I’m watching you” gesture with your hand before placing your hand over the camera, ending the vlog.

Clip 2:

Eunchae spins around the dorm building, giving the viewers on the livestream a living room tour as she looks around, coming up with random things to showcase on the spot. So far, she’s shown off the inside of the fridge, their oven, and underneath the couch. The young girl’s eyebrows furrow as she contemplates what to show fearnots next, her eyes landing on your precious arrangement of houseplants that you lovingly arranged in front of the balcony door. Eunchae clears her throat dramatically as she turns the camera towards your plants, squatting down next to them as she makes sure the audience can see both her and them within the frame.

“As you guys can see here, we have y/n’s plants… She's COVERED the apartment full of them, Chaewon unnie has to scold her every time she brings one home.” She giggles into the camera before shaking her head, “I’m convinced she loves those things more than us…” 

Faint rustling could be heard within the background, and Eunchae turns her head, opening her mouth as if to call out to whoever was home, but she pauses.An imaginary light bulb goes off in her head as Eunchae gasps, looking straight into the camera as she grins mischievously. “I have an idea… Watch this!” She scrambles onto the floor, laying flat on her stomach on top of the floor tile as she props her phone up against the wall hidden behind a stool. The camera perfectly showcases the plants, the living room, and the curtains covering the screen door. 

[ynniez] – oh no… [huhjin001] – this is going to be good [2ningz] - 🥸🥸🥸

The giggles can't seem to stop as Eunchae hops onto her feet and immediately dashes behind the curtains, pressing her finger up to her lips towards the camera in a “shh…!” motion before she disappears. 

“Eunchae?” your voice rings out as you return to your living quarters, grocery bags in hand as the camera perfectly captures your entrance. You don’t think much of the silence that follows as you place the bags down, making your way over to your plants with a grin.

 “Hello my lovelies~” You say to your plants, squatting down to examine them individually before grabbing hold of the watering can nearby. As you lift up the can, Eunchae suddenly bursts through the curtains, exclaiming “BOO!” as loud as possible, resulting in you screaming at a decibel twice as high. 

Unfortunately for the maknae, she had failed to foresee the possibility of you watering your plants at this exact moment– resulting in you blindly chucking 90% of the water inside the can towards the culprit in a panic. Eunchae stands there frozen, oversized sweatshirt and hair absolutely soaked with her mouth agape as she stares at you in complete shock. 

“What THE FU– EUNCHAE??” You yell out, watching the younger girl simply freeze in front of you like a wet cat. You switch to English for just one moment, simply saying, “Girl…” as you clutch your hand over your heart, trying to steady the rapid beating.

Eunchae’s shocked expression shifts into one of glee as her mouth still remains open, now smiling as her body rotates to where the phone hid, silently pointing in the general direction of the camera as she tries not to burst out into laughter on the spot.

You stare at her in complete confusion before following her finger, eyes finally landing on the livestream as your eyes widen, suddenly feeling very exposed in her own home. “No way you just got all of that on camera…”

Eunchae finally allows the laughter to flow, as she suddenly spreads her arms out, inching her way towards you. “You did this to me, unnie!!!” She roars, making attempts to trap you in a hug as you scream, running offscreen as the live abruptly ends.

Clip 3:

You’re seen with your face comically close to the camera, a habit that soon became a signature of your livestreams as you watch the viewers and comments roll in. You glaze over them before flipping the camera around, showing Sakura within the kitchen, wearing a pink apron and plastic gloves as she cuts up some vegetables. “Hi everyone!! Today, Kkura unnie and I are making omelets for the girls with microgreens I’ve grown MYSELF in OUR apartment!!” You loudly exclaim, shoving the camera close to the cutting board as Sakura rolls her eyes, chuckling at the sight as you eventually point the camera elsewhere.

“You did a very good job growing these y/n-nnie. They look great.” The comment from the older girl made you shy, and you flip the camera back to your face as you place a hand on your cheek, “hehe, thank you Kkura-unnie~” you coo, shifting your gaze back to the viewers before sighing.

“I grew all kinds of stuff in here, like basil, arugula, cilantro, kale…” You trail off, counting the number of edible plants you’ve grown on your finger before continuing, “but I could make so much more if I had a full blown garden!!” You whine, and Sakura could be seen in the background rolling her eyes, playfully commenting, “not this again…”

You dramatically lean on Sakura’s back with your own despite her already being hunched over while chopping as you sigh even louder this time, “I’m serious unnie!! The stuff I could grow for you guys.. You would have a whole salad in one place!!”

Leaving the older member to her task, you place the camera down before grabbing some eggs and cracking them into a bowl, impressively doing so with only one hand each as the comments complimented your skill.

[makna33] – master chef y/n?? [nay00n1] – girl what cant u do…

A laugh escapes your lips as you beat the eggs, “guys, its not that impressive. Besides, I don’t cook nearly as often or as well as Kkura-unnie.” The compliment garners a small smile from the other girl seen in the corner of the screen as you continue on, “anyways, if I had my own garden in the building, I would graft the best tomatoes ever… I’d be real life Frankenstien creating the perfect tomato!” You start, knowing that most likely nobody would actually care for your facts, but you shared anyways, this was YOUR live after all.

“Oh! We’re also using my basil today in one of the omelets. Guys, if you’re ever growing your own basil at home, make sure to pinch off the flowers! It makes it tastier!!” You point the chopsticks you used to whisk the egg at your phone camera, and some of the yolk is thrown onto the screen as your eyes widen, looking back at Sakura to make sure she didn't see what you just did. 

You quickly wipe off the gunk before returning to your kitchen duties as if nothing happened, “These eggs are gonna be so good… Though, I did have a pretty bad mealybug problem with the greens at some point… Do you guys know what those are? They’re like these little white dusty bugs that suck the sap out of your plants if you don’t do anything about them. I had SO MANY. But I refused to give up on em and now they're critter free!”

“Yah! Y/n! Don’t talk about the bugs in your plants!! The girls won’t want to eat it then!” Sakura scolds, playfully kicking your side with her leg as she focuses on frying the eggs.

You giggle as you look into the camera, “oops– don’t tell them that there used to be bugs in their food.” 

“WHAT?!”

The sound of Kazuha and Chaewon’s shrill voice rings out in the live, and you immediately slam your phone down, giving the viewers a black screen before the live ends.

[kairiscorner]

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ A RESPONSIBLE OLDER BROTHER...

🍰 genre: fluff ~ !

✒️ word count: 1068

💭 summary: you never thought you'd cross paths with someone who once caught your eye in high school, much less as his younger brother's elementary school teacher.

🍥 author's note: ngl i feel like something like this alr exists out there, i just don't know if someone alr made something like this, so pls lemme know 😭😭😭 and i had no idea what exactly to call this au, but basically, choso and yuuji are half brothers and choso's completely human; they have a wide age gap, but choso's very close to yuuji and is an amazing older brother to him here (he's very involved in his life and supports him so much !!) AND I'M SORRY I MADE KENJAKU YUUJI'S MOM BY DEFAULT 😭😭😭 ik he's also technically choso's dad, but i had to fit the half siblings thing in somewhere TT

"excuse me," spoke a raspy voice from behind you. turning around, you see a tall man with dark, chin length hair and smoky eyeshadow looking at you; he sort of towering over you, coming off as slightly intimidating. "ah, yes?" you asked in a soft voice, forcing a smile. "um... i'm here to pick up yuuji itado—" "big brother!" the little boy's high pitched voice called out for him from within the classroom.

like a little tornado, yuuji slipped out of the classroom and embraced his older brother by the legs, yapping to him a mile a minute about how fun making the origami animals and finger painting were in class today. the man chuckled and pat his younger brother by the head, taking him into his arms and carrying him. "that's great, yuuji, but slow down..." he advised his younger brother, giving him a piggy back ride.

you couldn't help but smile at the brotherly affection yuuji showed for his older brother. "so you're the one yuuji keeps bragging about in class..." you say in a sweet voice, admiring how patient he is with yuuji. the man's eyes go a little wide, and across his face, a reddish blush appears on his cheeks. "well, um... i didn't realize my little brother spoke so highly of me..." "he does, all the time!" you explained, making the man blush a little more as the toddler yuuji played with his older brother's hair.

"say, sir, um, might i know your name? just in case, y'know, security might ask who picked yuuji up next time?" "um, kamo, choso kamo," he introduced himself in a low voice, with you raising your eyebrows at the familiar name. "k-kamo?" you repeated, as if the way the name rolled from your tongue felt strange. he nodded, already brewing up the explanation in his mind that he never failed to explain time and time again others asked how they had different surnames.

"y'see, yuuji's my half brother," he uttered as the toddler soon felt sleepy and was about to sleep on his brother's shoulders. "we have different fathers, but that doesn't mean he's a stranger to me," choso affirmed, letting yuuji rest on his shoulders. you nodded, feeling a little sympathetic about their family situation, but also feeling as though choso had been somebody you once knew back then, some time in your high school years. "i see... well, i'm glad to know you're both very close," you said with a smile, chuckling under your breath at how absolutely adorable yuuji looked when sleeping on his otherwise stoic looking older brother.

"but i have to ask..." you begin as you look over choso's face once more, searching for some familiarity you may have within his features. choso raised an eyebrow as your voice drifted off as you scoured through your memory where you may have heard the name 'choso kamo' before. you snapped your fingers and widened your eyes when you finally realized just who this man might be. "you were my classmate all throughout my first year in high school!" you exclaimed, grinning.

choso looked at you dumbfounded, he didn't realize you were his old classmate until you pointed it out. "you... were?" he asked you, unsure if the person he was remembering from his hazy memories of high school was the very person he was talking to right now, his younger brother's elementary school teacher. you nodded, smiling wider. "yeah! sorry, i just... i didn't realize it was you! you got taller, your hair's longer, and... i like your makeup," you muttered, giggling a little under your breath. it felt like just yesterday that you were sitting next to one of the most cold and aloof people you had ever laid eyes on in the small world you were in that was high school.

you could remember the goth aesthetic choso had, the chunky boots he'd sneak wearing and get in trouble for, the earphones that were always stuffed in his ears and the occasional lip rings he'd wear when no teacher or discipline officer was in the vicinity; he was oddly cool to you back then. maybe it was just your lack of adventure and rebelliousness in your teenage years, but choso always stood out to you as the kind of person you aspired to be; not goth or a rebel or anything like that, more like a person who lived out their freedom and individuality, throwing caution to the wind and living your life how you wanted to, that was the kind of person choso seemed to you, and you had always yearned to become that kind of person, even now, do you wish you were that free with your life and decisions.

choso's cheeks flushed with red once more, he nodded and murmured his thanks at your compliment. he cleared his throat and tried to look you in the eye, unsure if he should refer to you by the name you preferred to be called in high school, or keep the formalities and call you by the name yuuji called you with the honorifics and all. "i... i'm glad i met you again," he muttered, his face getting redder and redder by the minute.

you nodded and grinned wider. "same here. well, see you and yuuji around, choso; i'll be looking forward to seeing you more often now," you said as you headed back to the classroom to check on the other children, with choso nodding, gazing at you from under his eyelashes. "um, wait..." choso called out to you. "yes?" you asked him, turning around to face him. choso could feel his throat go dry as he struggled to find the words to express what he wanted to ask you right then and there. "c-could i... get your number? f-for emergency purposes, of course..." "...sure thing," you obliged, relieving choso, but simultaneously making his heart pound with anticipation as you wrote your number down and handed it to him.

"how responsible of you, really, i'm really glad yuuji has you as his older brother..." you exclaimed, with the corners of choso's lips curving into a soft, delicate smile. "makes me admire you even more, y'know," you added, making choso's entire face erupt into a blush, making your own face heat up as you smiled and giggled under your breath.

guess some things never change no matter how much time passes...

[sugudollz]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ MISTAH STEAL YA BITCH!

So what if you’re married? Toji can fuck you better, anyways.

MDNI!! Dumbification. Cheating (from reader). He’s a bully :( he calls you “slut”, “whore”, n “dumb girl”. Orgasm denial. He grabs your jaw n your hair. Face down, ass up :3. “Cheating pussy”, “slutty ass pussy” 😭. Unprotected sex n he cums inside (wrap it before you tap it). Yeah Toji’s just really filthy. He’s kind of soft at the end? Not proofread, are we even surprised? Ngl this is so boring and my mind was going crazy writing this so ummm it’s probably all over the place. Lmk if I missed a tag or misspelled a word or something.

Toji’s got you face down, ass up on your bed—the bed you sleep on with your husband. However, that husband of yours is not Toji. What does it matter, anyways? Toji can fuck you better tenfold.

The head of his fat dick is hitting that sweet spot inside you repeatedly, his grip on your hips harsh as he thrusts his back and forth; that’s all it takes to get you stupid on his cock and drooling everywhere.

“You like that, huh? You like being a fuckin’ slut and being fucked in the bed you share with your husband?” Toji taunts in your ear before a loud groan slips past his wet lips. When you clench around his dick because of his harsh words, Toji laughs mockingly. “Fuckin’ whore,” he’s a complete menace.

One of Toji’s hands reach for your jaw, forcing your head to the side so he can look at you in all his dominant glory. When a smirk plays on his lips, a pout is drawn on yours, suddenly feeling small and shy.

Tears start erupting in your lash line, slowly falling down your flushed cheeks and Toji wipes them away with his thumb, but his face contrast his careful actions.

“Quit your whining and fuckin’ take it.” Toji spits out rudely, his aggressive thrusts matching his cruel demeanor. He’s pounding his cock into your tight pussy even harder now, chasing his orgasm, yet he seems to not care about yours. “Shiiiiit, this cheating pussy is so good…” Toji lolls his head back, eyelids closed and teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“A-ah—! Toji!” You whimper when his thrust of his hips cause his dick to hit a particular spongy spot in you. Toji lets go of your jaw to take a fist full of your hair and push your head into the pillow.

With your head in the pillow your husband sleeps on, you grip desperately onto the bedsheets of the bed you share with your husband, the grasp Toji’s fingers have on your hips creating marks on your skin. The skin on skin contact of your ass and Toji’s heavy balls echoing throughout the bedroom.

“Fuckin’ slutty ass pussy…” Toji nutters under his breath, ending the mocking words with a deep grunt. A knot in your stomach begins to tie, your back arching and granting a more pleasureful experience for your needy cunt.

“Toji…! ‘M gonna cum!” Whimpering, your tears begin to soak the pillow your face is slammed against, drool soaking into the thin pillowcase.

Grunting, Toji thrusts his hips with a force strong enough to fuck you to the sun and back. Sweat drips down from his forehead to to the crease between his furrowed eyebrows, and his thick dick is about to make you pass out just from how amazingly good it feels when it continues to slam against your sweet spot.

However, when Toji feels your tight walls clench harshly around his cock and he notices you getting louder and squirming more, he sends a smack to your ass. Though it’s not hard enough to actually hurt, it’s hard enough to tell you he’s upset.

“Hold it in,” demands Toji in the most strict, yet mocking, tone he’s ever used on you so far as he begins to rub the area he slapped on your poor ass cheek. With Toji’s words, your eyes shoot open and you’re upset as well as whiny.

“Toji!” You cry, your grasp on the bedsheets getting firmer. Despite you actually on the verge of tears and your genuine frustration, Toji fucking laughs and by now he’s balls deep into your pitiful pussy.

“Huh? What’s the matter, dumb girl? Crying cuz you can’t cum?” Toji pouts in feigned sympathy, his cock continuing to pound into you and hit all the right spots without fail. When you nod in response to Toji’s cruel words, he clicks his tongue and sends another palm to the flesh of your ass. “Too bad, I’m getting off first.” He sounds like a child who wants to play with a toy first—he’s so arrogant and he’s such a bitch.

The dick is too good, though, so you can’t really complain. Even if that wasn’t the case, you still literally couldn’t complain, thanks to the unforgiving thrusts of Toji’s brutal hips and his cock making you go dumb. Those same hips are causing you to see stars, galaxies even, and you’re just babbling on and on as saliva seeps through your parted lips.

As tears cascade down your cheeks from the aggressive pleasure and the denial of your orgasm, your muffled cries and pleas are being ignored by the man who’s fucking his fat cock into your warm, tight walls. Your needy cunt is gripping Toji’s dick desperately, silently praying for release but it’s never easy with Toji.

With a push of his hips, Toji feels his hips stutter and he curses under his breath. A long groan slips past his lips, and you would’ve heard a grunt of your name escape them as well if it weren’t for your fucked out state.

“Fuckkk…!” Toji throws his head back, his thrusts becoming sloppier and lazier due to the nearing of his orgasm. “Gonna cum in this cheating pussy,” he begins, “yeah? Gonna lemme fill your pussy up? Mhm? Give you a baby?” Toji either forgot about your husband or he either doesn’t care, and it’s most likely the latter option, knowing Toji. It’s not like you care, either way.

“Yes! Yesyesyesyesyes! Please! Cum in me, Toji!” You whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Toji’s fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your exhausted hips. When he hears your begs, he laughs tauntingly, sending a smack to your ass once again, eliciting a whine from you.

“Whore,” Toji mocks, a shit eating grin plastering itself on his face. However, when your walls squeeze his dick from his degrading treatment, Toji’s load dumps itself into your warm, tight pussy, painting your walls white and reaching your womb.

As if on instinct, you’re immediately cumming all over his thick cock from the feeling and thought of being filled to the brim with Toji’s release. Your juices coating his dick, Toji’s heavy load making a mark on your womb.

You’re thinking about how funny it is that you never let your husband go raw. Ever. The man you were sworn to, the man you promised yourself to, the man you were meant to spend the rest of your life with. But you let Toji do it—you always let him feel your warm walls. Why? You don’t know.

With such a life changing finish, you’re left breathless when Toji pulls out, same with him. He’s breathless, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with his veiny forearm. If your head wasn’t still shoved into your pillow, you would have seen how hot Toji looked in that moment.

“You fuckin’ slut,” he says playfully between heavy breaths, a smirk playing on his lips. You pout in response to his words as you turn over to lay on your back, seeing Toji face to face when you do. He allows his exhausted body to fall next to you, instantly wrapping his arms around your sweaty body and burying his head into the crook of your neck.

Toji’s ready to fall asleep, but an abrupt sound from your phone erupts and he groans. Reaching for your phone that lays on your nightstand, Toji finds a message from none other than your husband, reading: I’ll be home in five.

Not only is Toji upset with the fact that your husband will be back in a few minutes, it’s also the fact that the message looks so unenthusiastic—almost lukewarm.

He sets your phone back on the nightstand, returning to his position he was in before your annoying husband disrupted his rest.

“Who was it?”

“No one.”

© 2023 sugudollz only on Tumblr — do not copy, repost, translate, or steal.

[xoxizzy]

❝ i could build a castle of memories just to have somewhere to go

✧.* jily x fem reader

synopsis: a warm morning with your other halfs, lily and james.

cw: shitty writing, i haven't written anything on here before so it's prob not the best lmao, complete fluff, I actually love james and lily so much their so so cute, pretty short ngl, not proofread at all

you winced lightly as you heard the familiar sound of curtains being opened. you opened your eyes and saw lily; who was straightening the curtains. you glanced to the view outside, seeing that the sun was yet to rise over the horizon; the street lights still glowing, dew still present on the roads, and a soft dark blue hue taking over the sky.

your movement on the bed must have alerted lily of you, who turned and smiled softly when she saw that you were awake. she walked over to your side of the bed, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "good morning, my dear." she whispered as to not awake james.

you only whined lightly in response, still to tired to formulate a verbal response. lily breathed out a chuckle through her nose; brining her forehead to rest atop of yours. "i took it that you slept well, hon?" she asked, not looking for a response from you this time.

james mumbled something inaduble from your other side, his arm wrapping around your waist and bringing you closer to him. he gently shoved his face into the crook of your neck, humming when he started relaxing into your body.

lily allowed for a couple minutes of peaceful silence, hand gently caressing james jawline as her forehead was still rested on yours. just as you were being pulled back into the world of sleep, lily spoke to you once more. "d'you want to get up and help me with breakfast, dear?"

when you didn't respond right away, lily pulled away; causing both james and you to wake up slightly due to lack of touch. when you processed what lily had said to you, you hummed in a affirming tone. a cup of coffee with your favorite flavor of creamer did sound quite lovely right now.

lily nodded softy in response before turning and walking out of the room, most likely to head to the kitchen. after a moment, you started to get up; which would normally be quite easy, but james had your waist in an iron grip. "jamie, i need to get up, hon." you mused quietly, hand coming up to weave through his curly hair.

he simply hummed in response, probably not even hearing what you had said clearly. james did however, quickly fall back into his slumber, allowing for you to slip out of his grasp and head for the kitchen.

as you rounded the corner, you were hit with the strong sent of coffee brewing. lily had come into the kitchen then, you thought. as you entered, you saw lily; who was facing away from you and leaning against the counter, probably trying to stay awake herself.

you walked up behind her and wrapped your arms around her torso, letting her know of your presence in the kitchen. "you read my mind sweetheart. how'd you know id want coffee?" you asked as she brought her shoulder to rest against your collar bone.

she giggled softly at your words. "darling, you have coffee every morning. of course i would know that you wanted some," she said, voice still a little hoarse from getting up not to long ago.

you hummed in response, dipping your head down to press and quick kiss to her neck before breaking the embrace the two of you were in. "what do you think for food, honey?" you asked as you walked over to the fridge.

lily turned around so she was facing you. "hmmm.." she hummed, looking over your shoulder as you opened the door to the fridge. "how about muffins?" she mused, seeing some of the required ingredients inside.

you nodded your head, on board with her muffin idea. "blueberry muffins?" you asked, grabbing a almost full container of the said berries and lifting them over your shoulder for lily to see. "jamie likes them," you said as an offhand comment; remembering the time that sirius had made james go on a 20 minute speech about how blueberry muffins were superior.

lily also probably had the same thought as you heard a small giggle from her. "that sounds perfect, dear." she said, turning her attention back to the coffee brewing.

the two of you made quick work with the coffee and muffins; the treat almost being done cooling before james came into the kitchen.

"how are my two favorite girls doing?" james mused as he walked round the corner, sleepiness still heavily present in his eyes; but a sparkle still there from seeing the two of you. both lily and you smiled at him in sync, you mumbling a quiet good to him while lily said her response.

james eyes drifted over twords the coffee, and then the muffins. his eyes light up even more (if that was possible). "did you two minxes already bake muffins? gods, how long did i sleep for?" he asked, but mainly to himself.

before he could pick a muffin up and shove it into his face, your hand grabbed his. "you're gonna burn yourself, love," you mused with a hint of amusement. "their still cooling."

james rolled his eyes playfully before taking your hand out of his; his hand moving to your face and caress the slope of your nose. you heard lily's amused chuckle as she walked behind you, her arms wrapping around your neck area and bringing you closer to her.

"i love you to so much," you said as you tucked yourself more into lily's side; james hand still soothing across your nose slope. you saw james eyes crinkle at the edges, a dopey smile appearing across his face.

you felt lily smile into your hair, her hold on you tightening ever so slightly at the words spoken. "we love you to angel," lily mused as she pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

"we do. love you so, so much." james said, eyes flickering between you and lily. "my two bueatiful girls."

— lyrics from title from clay pigions by Michael Cera —

[dovveri]

save your love

synopsis: y/n is susie in allie x & mitski's susie save your love song - if u dont know it go listen :P (but also u dont have to lol synopsis is y/n calls bsf sana drunk and sad and angry abt her bf and you don't know that sana is in love with you)

warnings: cursing, sexual harassment, alcohol, slight cheating, gonn repeat sexual harassment bcs its there and its potentially triggering so err on the side of caution and dont read if ur worried - take care🙏

w/c: 3.7k

a/n: still not over the fact that sana used susie save your love in that one ig post like wdym ur a mitski - qpoc ICON - listener and u post a song abt how u wish ur bsf would leave her dumb bf and be w u instead - a quintessential wlw experience like HELLO???? i also think i projected a liiiiiiil bit accidentally maybe im so sorry but writing this shit works better than therapy ngl

࿐ ࿔*: ☽･ﾟ

"y/n where the fuck are you."

you're cursing as you almost drop your drink, phone between your ear and shoulder.

"i dunnoooo one of marshall's friends' places i think. he was supposed to be my ride home but i can't find himmmmmm."

sana's already got her keys in her hand, heading out towards her car, cursing under her breath, "can you share your location with me sweetie? or is there anyone else there that you know?"

you look around at the various stragglers in the living room either smoking, high out of their minds, or completely passed out. loud music, bass thumping hurting your head as you feel the vibrations shoot up your body. "mmmmm noooo but-"

"hey! marshall's girl right?" a deep voice comes over the phone and sana squints to try and make out what's going on, unlocking her car and turning her engine on.

"y/n? hey y/n you still there?"

"mm yeah sana sorry one sec- you guys know where marshall is?"

"think i saw him headed home with someone in the passenger seat, thought that was you cutie."

"someone else? huh?"

"you doing okay? you look a little pale let's get you upstairs in the bathroom yeah?"

"w-wait no-" sana can make out multiple voices talking to you and a little scuffle as you drop your phone, voices fading.

"fuck!" she's about to call your boyfriend marshall and demand for your address when she sees you were able to start sharing your location with her. she sets it into her navigation app and starts speeding to the destination.

࿐ ࿔*: ☽･ﾟ

"umm guys where are we going? i don't think marshall's up here..."

"oh don't worry babygirl. marshall's our best friend he's okay with whatever we wanna do."

"mm okay but like- what are we doing? if we're singing you guys have to know i suck at karaoke so don't laugh."

the three guys holding you up laugh, "nah nah baby we're just gonna get you cleaned up a little before marshall comes to pick you up okay?"

"oh okay~ mmm wait where's my phone? i was just talking to my best friend-" you start to fumble for your pockets while the guys lead you into a dim room.

they shut the door and close in on you, you’re still cluelessly looking for your phone when one guy starts kissing you, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

"w-wait! what are you doing?!"

he's pushing you onto a bed and climbing on top of you kissing your neck while the others slip your top off and unbutton your jeans. "shhh we're just cleaning you up like we said. want you to be nice and ready for marshall right?"

"no what-"

the door slams open and sana's there, breathing heavily from clambering over the steps.

"get the fuck away from her."

the guys exchange annoyed looks when the one who was at your jeans stands up and walks towards sana, "you the best friend? you're welcome to join us if you'd like." he's pulling on her hand and dragging her towards you.

she doesn't give him another second, yanking him back and bringing a knee up into his crotch, letting him fall to the side groaning as she rushes towards you.

you realise belatedly she's got her phone out and the flashlight on as you squint, trying to make out her face.

"get the fuck off her right fucking now. i've got all you shits on camera and the cops on speed dial."

the two guys glance at each other, looking like they want to pull a fight but then they're cursing and moving away, picking up their friend off the floor and stumbling out the door.

her flashlight turns off, and you feel her tugging your clothes back into place before lifting you bridal-style and carrying you out, down the stairs, and into the passenger seat of her car.

you watch hazily as she paces around outside for a few minutes on the phone with someone, stopping to snap a picture of the house and then hanging up and getting into the car, slamming the door close.

you flinch at the sound, shrinking into your seat, pulling the jacket she's draped over you closer.

she starts the engine and pulls out wordlessly.

you don't dare speak yet, letting the soft hum of the engine and the late night radio music fill the silence as you listen to her heavy breaths slow down.

finally she sighs and glances over at you, "what would you have done if i didn't show up y/n?" her voice is gentle, it always was with you.

you can't look at her, tears welling up in your eyes as you stare out the window, shrugging in response.

she's frowning, "did they manage to do anything to you? are you okay? do we need to get you to a hospital?"

you're shaking your head, the movement making you dizzy, feeling gross in your own skin as you pick at your nails. "can you take me to marshall's? i don't wanna talk about this right now." you're voice is croaky when you speak, on the verge of tears.

sana grips the wheel hard at your request, instead, pulling over on the side of the empty road and putting the car in park.

you sigh exasperatedly, "sana please i just said i don't want to talk about this right now."

"that's fine but if you think i'm taking you to that asshole's house then you've got to be fucking kidding me y/n."

you turn your head to look at her then, her eyes are dark with barely concealed rage, fists clenched so tight her knuckles were turning white. you falter under her gaze, "he's not an asshole."

she scoffs then, "are you fucking serious? what kinda boyfriend takes you to his rapist friends' house then leaves with another girl without so much as a text. it should be enough proof he’s a dick that he's even friends with those assholes." she spits.

and you can't help it, you start sobbing uncontrollably.

"oh shit y/n i didn't- i'm sorry-" she's shuffling around trying to get around the console, and you sob even louder at her outstretched hand, careful and wanting to comfort you but making sure you were okay being touched first.

you're diving into her arms and then she's all there. pulling you into her lap and adjusting the position of her seat so you can squeeze in between the wheel and her torso. soft hands running through your hair shooshing and whispering gently into you ear. arm wrapped tightly around your waist while your face is buried in her chest, heaving and letting out your disgust.

she never stops running her fingers through your hair, letting your sobs wrack your body, hearts beating in tandem as she just holds you.

eventually, your sobs reside to sniffles and you feel a little silly, rubbing your eyes onto the material of her betty boop pyjama shirt.

she's still combing fingers through you hair, rubbing your back lightly, and laying soft kisses along the side of your face, resting her forehead against the top of your head and breathing you in softly.

"i-i'm-" your voice cracks as you try to speak up weakly but she hushes you quickly.

"we don't have to talk if you don't want to. we can stay here for as long as you want. i'm not going anywhere."

you feel your eyes well up again, but you swallow it down, speaking up after clearing your throat, "i'm sorry-" your voice cracks again, almost breaking, "i'm sorry you had to see me like that."

you feel her lifting her head off yours and looking at you in disbelief, mouth open and about to protest but you put a finger to her lips, still not able to look at her.

"no let me finish. you were right. i had no idea what i'd have done if you didn't come. i'm sorry that you did have to come. i'm just so sorry for fucking up sana. if i'd- if i hadn't got so drunk maybe, or if i'd followed marshall home-"

she licks the finger on her lips and you yelp, looking at her out of reaction and cringing, wiping the finger on her shoulder in faux disgust.

she chuckles, "can i talk yet?"

you nod shyly, "as long as you don't lick me again." avoiding her eyes.

she's smiling and a hand is on your cheek, brushing the skin there gently and you can't help but lean into the touch.

"y/n... you don't have to apologise for anything. i'm sorry if i made you feel like you did. but i don't care about all of that. i'm just grateful i was there, if anything, i'm angry at myself for not being there sooner." you look at her as she takes a shaky breath in, eyes wet, "but you have to know none of that was your fault. there's no what if. it was no one's fault but the guys who decided to take advantage of you while you were drunk."

you're crying again, head in your hands, "n-no but- like i know that but i just- like i trusted them. i trusted them because they were meant to be marshall's friends and i trusted marshall."

she's rubbing her hands at your lower back, "that doesn't make it your fault for trusting them. they broke that trust the moment they started thinking of you in a way they shouldn't have. you can't blame yourself for something like that y/n."

"i just feel so gross sana. i can't stop thinking about how their hands felt on me, and i want to scrub off every bit of them."

she's clutching your waist, anger building up again, "i'll fucking kill them."

you let out a choked laugh, "yeah? you and your 163 centimetres? against three buff gym rats?" you poke the skin at her arms, "with these muscles i assume?" (it was SO funny and adorable in the ready to be tw-log finale ep when jeongyeon was poking at sana saying how she has zero arm muscles)

she's pulling away from you with a pout and a whine on her lips before her gaze darkens and she says somberly, "i have a car."

you laugh seriously then, a big hearty laugh as your head falls to her shoulder, and she's whining and trying to pull you up. you're so grateful for her.

eventually you come up, wiping at your eyes and catching your breath, "well i'm glad i have someone who'd commit manslaughter for me."

she's pouting adorably and you get a sudden rush of want, and you blush, scrambling away, wondering why the fuck you just thought about how easy it'd be to kiss the pout off your best friend's lips.

sana's confused and pulling you back into her, "what's wrong? where’re you going?"

you come up with the quickest excuse you can think of, "gonna puke."

she yelps and quickly opens the car door, almost falling out in her rush to avoid being covered in sick. you're out the door in seconds, heaving in the fresh air and shivering slightly at the cold, hoping it'll at least cool down the heat in your cheeks.

then you're giggling, and then laughing again, turning back to face her look of disgust. her face morphs as she watches you though, and soon enough she's doubled over laughing as well.

to anyone driving past, you'd both look insane, laughing at absolutely nothing. but to you, you've never felt more free, more relieved. you're safe, and okay, and you're favourite person in the whole world is here with you. you collapse onto the hood of her car, and she follows suit, giggling and breathy.

the two of you lay here, looking up into the night sky, counting the stars. you shiver slightly and move closer towards her until your bodies are touching. she's turning slightly, wrapping an arm around your waist loosely, and watching you watch the stars.

you turn to face her, breaths mingling, coming out in wispy white clouds of heat in the chilly night air. you find your eyes dropping to her mouth again, and you can't hide the blush that adorns your face this time. if you'd just leaned in a little more, you'd be able to answer the burning question in your head of what exactly sana tasted like.

the slight quiver in her lower lip entrances you, the soft breaths she's taking as her warmth fans over your face, smelling of jasmine and the toothpaste she’s used just before bed. you're inching closer and closer, her eyes are on your lips as well.

you lose it though, when a tongue peeks out and licks across her bottom lip, and you're pressing your lips against hers softly, eyes closed, and humming at the warmth she provides.

she's kissing you back gently, lips slotting against yours in the perfect way, and then she's gone, pulling away leaving you chasing after her, but she places a hand on your chest, pushing you back lightly.

"you're drunk. and taken. this is wrong."

you whine, trying to pull her back to you but she's firm, sitting up and walking away.

you're blinking and what the fuck just happened? dazed as you stand up as well, moving back into the passenger seat dumbly, peeking at her expression trying to get a sense of what was going on inside her mind.

she starts the engine and pulls out from the kerb, staring straight ahead, giving you nothing.

you can't help but think you've fucked everything up again.

࿐ ࿔*: ☽･ﾟ

the storm brewing inside your head doesn't stop when she pulls into your driveway and parks.

you muster up the courage to apologise but she beats you to it, "i'm sorry y/n. i shouldn't have done that. can we just forget it about it please? i don't want to ruin anything between us. you're the most important person in the world to me and i can't lose you over these stupid feelings and i'm so sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable at all i-"

your inebriated mind is playing catch up, rolling her words in your head over and over again trying to figure out why that sounded like she was saying she had feelings for you? that couldn't be right. sana was the it girl. she was the girl that everyone wanted. she was the girl that sat through your nerdy rants about space and eels. the girl that bought you ice cream when your first boyfriend broke up with you in grade 3 because he didn't like the way you cut your hair. the girl that cried when she found out you weren't going to the same high school because you were moving away, but then managed to get her parents to enroll her anyway and spent the next 6 years taking the 2 hour commute to school just to be with you.

and holy shit. sana was in love with you.

"sana..." you interrupted her rambling, "i... i kinda have a massive headache right now and i'm more than a little drunk but… this isn't going to change our friendship at all."

her eyes are wide and shining, looking at you in fear, you grab her hands and squeeze them over the console, "i promise i'm not leaving you but i don't want to give you an answer yet when i'm in this state. but if it helps, i'm pretty sure i'm the one that kissed you first." you grin, and she lets out a shaky breath.

you let go of her hands and shyly rub the back of your neck, "i kinda need to get inside and get clean but i'll call you tomorrow if that's okay?"

she's nodding, wiping at her eyes hastily.

you open the door and step out, closing it softly behind you. but you lean back down and gesture for her to roll down the window which she does.

"and sana... thank you for tonight. seriously. i don't know how i can ever show you how grateful i am for you being there."

she purses her lip and is firm again, "stop it. i'm glad i was there. and thankyou for letting me be there for you."

you smile gently as you wave and head towards your door, she waits for you to get inside and the door to shut before she pulls out and drives home, heart thumping, thoughts messy.

࿐ ࿔*: ☽･ﾟ

you wake up in the morning with a pounding headache, stumbling to your kitchen to pop a few painkillers and squinting as you adjust to the morning sunlight spilling through your windows.

thank god you remembered everything that happened last night, you set your lips in a line as you got ready. you had a strict plan for today, and nothing was going to ruin it.

you quickly get dressed, thumbing out a small letter and grab your keys, driving over to marshall's house was step one.

once you arrive, you slam your car door loudly, taking satisfaction in the fact it probably woke him in his self-induced hangover he was no doubt soothing. you stalk up his front door, rapping on the wood loudly and tapping your foot impatiently as you wait for him to open the door.

it's not him though, and you scoff at the sight of a half naked girl, probably barely legal, pushing her aside despite her weak protests, and letting yourself into the space.

you storm up to his room, flinging open the door, grabbing the vase next to the bed, and dumping the water all over his sleeping head.

he wakes up with a start, "WHAT THE FUC-"

you slap him across the face, bringing his attention to you, "we're done." two simple words and you're back out the door, going down the steps, and back into your car.

you're halfway down the street when you spot him in the rearview mirror clambering after you in his underwear, soaking and pathetic.

you can't believe you had stayed with that man for as long as you had.

the relief you feel after your first action of the day is freeing. you're chasing after the feeling you had last night when you were doubled over laughing like madmen with sana on the side of the road. adrenaline pumping as you pull up to your local florist, purchasing a big bouquet of pink hydrangeas and then grabbing 2 coffees and a few bakery goods, shoving everything back into your car and speeding away again.

you arrive at sana's front door in record time, knowing her, she was definitely awake already and probably anxiously waiting for you to call. you grin as you grab the flowers, the letter you wrote before you left the house, and the breakfast you've gotten for the both of you, placing it down on her front door mat and arranging everything nicely so it looked picture-worthy.

then you ring her doorbell and duck, running over to her side fence that you knew she always left unlocked, entering her house through the back door, and sneaking back towards the front.

sana's bent down over the flowers and you can see the slight crease between her eyebrows from her confusion as she reads the letter you've left in the middle of the hydrangeas.

i'm sure you don't need me to tell you what pink hydrangeas represent because you're a huge flower nerd and i love that about you but i'm going to write it out anyway to show you i did the research.

in japan, hydrangeas are used to show you're sorry. and i'm sorry for not realising sooner, for letting you suffer for so long on your own. they also represent heartfelt emotions and gratitude. i'm eternally grateful for you sana. you're the most important person in the whole world to me too. i'd also commit manslaughter for you.

in europe, hydrangeas mean vanity and arrogance. i'm sorry i was so self-involved with my stupid boyfriends. to tell you the truth, i always thought you were too good for me, and that you'd realise that one day and leave, so i clung to anyone i could find, waiting in fear of that day. that was selfish of me, and i see that now, because you could never leave someone you love. because i realised i feel the same way about you, and i could never, never leave you.

pink hydrangeas are the most romantic of the bunch. (they’re also your favourite colour) i'm obviously trying to tell you that i love you too in a more than platonic way. and this time i'm not drunk or hyperemotional, i'm certain.

you silently creep up behind her while she's reading your note, and then grab her waist lifting her up into the air as she squeals, turning her in your arms and planting your lips on hers.

she's caught by surprise, lips unmoving against yours, until she realises it's you and wraps her legs around your waist, arms around your neck, and kisses you back.

you can finally taste her. and there's no way to describe it. you don't know why it took you so long to realise your feelings for her, but you'd never felt the way you feel about her for anyone else. you'd chalked that up to being best friends and that that's the way all best friends feel about each other, but best friends don't sigh into kisses. best friends don't feel like their hearts would explode with each soft press of skin against each other. best friends don't love each other the way you loved sana.

you break away when you feel wetness glide along your cheek, and salt touch the tip of your tongue. "sana?! oh my god i'm so sorry, i shouldn't- i should've asked first- oh shit i'm so-"

she's chuckling brokenly and you can't tell if she's laughing or crying or both but she pulls you back in, melding your lips together again speaking against your mouth, "i'm sorry. i'm just so happy right now."

you smile against her, kissing her again, you think you'll never be able to get enough of this feeling. "i'm sorry it took so long for me to catch up."

you feel her laugh against you, "i'm just glad you've still got some love saved for me."

"always." kiss. "it's all for you from now. i love you."

"i love you too idiot."

[thankyouivy]

BRO UR LATEST REID FIC WAS AMAZING, you have to write a second part where the team confront/tease Reid for forgetting to hang up his phone 🙏

THANK YOU!!! :]

i’m mixing this with another request I got for the morning after slick tongue.

I hope this is what you were looking for, ngl this was a challenge, which is why it took so long! (also my computer may have broken mid way through writing this so I finished it on my phone which means this is NOT properly proofread or edited OOPS)

ENJOY MY POOKIES <3

warnings: fluff with a bit of suggestiveness but nothing explicit.

———

Sore - Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Morning comes way faster than Spencer hoped it would.

His alarm goes off at 6am, the one he sets for when he's at home with you, that’s quiet enough so it won’t wake you up, but he can still hear it. He reaches over and turns it off, eyes adjusting to the dark room and then turns and gazes at you, still sleeping peacefully.

Your head is rested on his shoulder, nose buried in his neck, and one leg hitched over both of his. You’re practically laying on top of him, getting as close as humanly possible. He smiles lovingly at you and places a delicate kiss on your cheek before carefully slipping his arm out from under you and scooting off the bed, a skill he has picked up since you started dating. He makes his way to the bathroom to shower and get ready, keeping the bedroom lights off to let you continue sleeping.

You are awoken from your sex-induced slumber by the sounds of the morning; your shower running, the morning doves singing outside, anddddd…. Spencer’s phone ringing. You lean over and grab it, checking the number and rubbing your eyes before answering.

“Hey, Penny,” You greet mid-yawn. “Oh my god! Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry! Where's Reid?” She asks quickly. you have a hard time understanding everything she’s saying, and you can tell she’s probably already had her morning coffee… or two.

“It’s alright! I was totally already awake. Spencer’s in the shower, he’ll be at the office in no time im sure.” You answer, sleep still apparent in your voice, with a hint of scratchiness from the strain Spencer caused to your vocal cords last night.

Penelope is saying something, but instead your mind floats to last night's events. You rub your hand over your neck and feel the slight soreness of bruises and the delicate ache in your core burns when you think about last night.

“Sorry - what?” You zone back in, squinting your eyes at the bright iphone screen in the dark room. “I know you got attended to last night, but you don’t have to keep rubbing it in our faces!” She teases and you feel your face heat up as you giggle at her.

You chat with Garcia for a minute before you hear the shower turn off and you suddenly remember why you're on the phone with her at 6 in the morning. “Sorry- what did you need me to tell Spencer?” you say, sitting up in bed.

“Oh yeah, your relationship is like my reality tv and we will be chatting more about your scandalous escapades later. But for now, can you tell him Hotch needs the final witness statements from the last case read over?” Garica answers. That entire sentence sounds like complete FBI gibberish but you get the general idea and promise to relay the info to Spencer before he leaves, and Garcia hangs up with a “Thanks, doll!”

The door to the bathroom opens and Spencer steps out with his toothbrush in his mouth. The light from the bathroom bleeds into the dark bedroom and it makes him look like a God. His hair is damp and messy, he's wearing a towel around his waist, his hips bones and happy trail completely on display. The light from behind him shows off his lightly defined muscles, lean body, and sharp jaw, and you feel yourself going bright red.

“Sorry, sugar, did I wake you up?” He says when he notices you’re sitting up in bed, taking his toothbrush out of his mouth. “No actually, it was Penelope.”

You smile as he walks over to your closet and starts picking up clothes. “What? Garcia called you?” He walks back to the bathroom with his clothes with him to finish brushing his teeth. “No, she called you. Told me to tell you that Hotch needs you to read the witness something-or-other?” You say, slipping out of bed and stretching your arms above your head. “Witness statements?” He asks, smiling at you through the door. “That’s it.”

You know you probably won't be able to fall asleep again after Spencer leaves, so you head to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee after brushing your teeth. Spencer joins you in the kitchen about 10 minutes later, fumbling with his tie. You pass him your cup of coffee and take over, tying it neatly and adjusting his shirt collar as he takes a sip.

He places a kiss on your lips, holding your jaw to tilt your head up with his hand. “Want some breakfast?” you hum happily, arms wrapping around his neck. “Mhmm… maybe not the kind you’re thinking of, though.” He smirks, grabbing your waist to pull you closer and leaning down to kiss you again as you giggle.

“Tempting… but if you show up late again people are going to get suspicious. Plus, I’m still recovering from last night.” You mumble, grinning at him when he goans like a child being denied candy, and just continues kissing you.

When you feel his tongue slide against your bottom lip and attempt to lick into your mouth, you pull away. “Mmmm, Spencer…you need to go…gonna be late…” you say in between pecks. He places one final kiss on your lips before grabbing his stuff and heading out the door with a quick “Bye, baby, have a good day, love you!”

There is something off about the team today.

Spencer can tell.

When he gets to the office, Morgan and Garica spot him immediately. Morgan has that proud-big-brother expression on his face, and pats Spencer on the back before plopping down in his chair, and Garica can’t keep that mischievous look off her face as she seats herself on a spare chair at Derek’s desk.

Spencer gives the pair a confused look, only for Morgan to chuckle at him. “So, nice time last night, Reid?” Morgan smirks.

“Yes, actually, how was the bar?” Spencer responds, confused by the pair’s strange mood, but still engaging in the usual morning small talk while reading over the witness statements like Hotch asked.

“It was fine, I’m sure your night was more eventful than ours, though,” Morgan and Garcia giggle at each other.

Spencer is sure he has never been more confused in his life, but passes it off as the pairs regular unusual banter.

Before he can ask what’s going on, JJ and Emily walk over with coffee, joining the group at their own respective desks.

“How was your night, Spencer?” Emily snickers into her coffee as JJ kicks her leg under her desk and covers her mouth with her hand in an attempt to hide her own smile.

“I- it was fine?” Spencer answers again.

“Just fine?” Another voice asks, as Rossi joins them, knowing smile on his face.

“Okay, enough, will someone please tell me what is going on? is there some new inside joke I missed?” Spencer breaks, the weirdness of the situation overriding his ability to multitask.

“Yes, my night was fine. It was normal, why are you all suddenly interested in what I do when I'm not at work?” Spencer squints inquisitively at them.

“Normal, huh?” JJ giggles, eyeing the rest of the girls, who join in. Spencer gives them a look, bringing a hand up to his face to massage his jaw.

“Something wrong with your jaw, Reid?” Rossi asks with a smirk on his face, and the entire group breaks into a fit of snickers.

“Yeah, it’s just a little sore from- wait.” He pauses, to look around at his friends. “What do you know and how do you know it?” Spencer asks, suspicion evident on his face when the snickers don’t stop.

“Listen, we all can’t be as tech-savvy as me!” Garica grins, and suddenly Spencer remembers. The expression that flashes across his face can only be described as pure terror as he whips out his phone and checks his call history.

Penelope Garica [BAU]

Mobile phone - 2014/01/19

Call Length: 27:34

“Shit.”

Spencer glows bright red as the realization hits him like a truck, the laughs from the team getting impossibly louder as he hides his face in his hands.

More of my stuff can be found here.

~Ivy 🪴

[htchnr]

★ damn his abs ❥ D. MORGAN.

➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ patreon.

🎃 KINKTOBER PROMPT ➥ ab riding + BAU!Morgan.

CW ab riding ⋆ Derek's abs cause YUM ⋆ f!masturbation ⋆ this kind of sucks ngl ⋆ not proofread sorry ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

SUMMARY you couldn't think straight, not when he was shirtless beside you. WC 1K.

★ - © 2023 HTCHNR. do not copy, share or translate my work to this platform, or any other! - ★

Derek was shirtless, reclining on the spacious couch with you lying on his side, your head on his chest. He was laughing at a joke on the TV, but you couldn't register what was on since you had tuned it out a while ago, ever since you placed your hand on his midriffs.

… damn him and his abs.

You leisurely caressed the dibs and ridges, feeling the smooth skin with little bumps of tiny scars. Your legs squeezed together to relieve the tension of something that was missing. You squirmed a little in your position; your mind wandered far away from the cozy living room, wondering if you could make yourself come on his–

"What are you thinking about?"

You blinked, lifting your head to look at him. His unsighted gaze had turned to where you were, a small grin on his lips that softened his face with all the faint wrinkles.

"You seem distracted, and you're squirming a lot."

You put your hand on his chest, moving it in a soothing pattern to ease his concern.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to distract you. You can go back to–"

"No no, you can tell me. What's wrong?"

His hand gently squeezed at your side, imploring you to be honest with him.

"Nothing's wrong. I just … I wonder if– you know what? It's really stupid."

You tried to sit up, but his hand stopped you. Instead, Derek pulled you closer so you would sprawl on top of his sturdy frame; his other hand gripped your chin to keep you facing him, making it impossible to hide.

"Tell me."

You took a deep breath, knowing there was no point in delaying the inevitable.

"I want to … ride your … abs."

Derek didn't say anything for a moment, and you felt your stomach drop in anxiety over a stupid proposal.

"Never mind I said anything. It's–"

"I'm surprised you didn't ask me sooner, baby girl."

The smirk on his face was sinful, and you knew you were in for a day spent in bed with him. Or on the couch. Either way, you wouldn't mind.

And now, here you were, moving on top of him fervently like there was a fire you couldn't put out. Your arousal painted a sheer coat of translucent essence on his abdominals. You moved back and forth, swivelling your hips, revelling in the effortless glides of your wet folds on his smooth skin with all the pronounced definition underneath.

It tied a knot in your lower belly in a foreign style, and you eagerly worked yourself up to unravel it. His hands grabbed at either side of your thighs, helping you move with ease. The grasp wasn't painful but tight like a pair of shackles, anchoring you to his heavenly body.

Derek was laid back, completely in control, while you lost your mind over the strange feeling, your head thrown back with needy moans spilling out of your mouth. You repositioned yourself to move your hips just right, making your clit rub on the dibs and rise. The repeated friction drew more arousal from your core, leaking juice all over his muscles with your frantic movement.

That fresh wave of pleasure hit you, causing your face to burn with the embarrassment of doing something so filthy. So debauchery. Your hips slowed as you held back your moans, and your head dipped slightly in self-consciousness. Derek's hand came up and searched for your face. He gripped your chin, pulling at your bottom lip so it would relax.

"Don't get shy on me now, baby girl. Get what you want from me."

As if he could sense your hesitation still, he persisted. "Don't think about it too much. Stay with me. Can you do that for me?"

You shyly nodded, which earned you an approving smile from him. You resumed the motion, working yourself up again. Derek's hand slipped underneath your sweatshirt, covering one breast and kneading with his calloused palm.

The rhythm of your breathing became short and heavy, unsteady with each glide of your sensitive bundle of nerves on his abs. His fingers teased your nipple, playing with the aching nub. You whimpered, feeling overwhelmed with your senses being toyed with under his influence.

"That's it. That's my good girl."

His praise went to your head, sending a pleasant wave of bliss to your core, encouraging you to chase that high. You moaned wantonly as Derek tweaked your nipple; his hand on your ass pulled you towards the definition of his abs, magnifying the sensation.

Hearing you let yourself go seemed to affect Derek too. His chest and neck were flushed, and his lips parted as he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of your arousal. His cock was so hard it ached, creating a tent in the sweatpants he wore.

You moved faster on top of him, and you were close; Derek could feel it. Upon your desperate whines, he flexed his abs; his hands helped you move faster and faster. The dam broke, and you came undone with a choked cry, your hands braced on his chest to hold yourself up. You caught your breath, his hand tenderly stroking at your hips, coaxing you down from the orgasm.

Your eyes fluttered, feeling hazy from the exertion. But they snapped wide open when you saw Derek gathering the wetness on his stomach and bringing the fluid to his lips. You watched as he sucked on his fingers, moaning at the taste. Even after what you just did, you still couldn't help but blush.

Derek pulled you down with him, unabashedly searching for your lips with his own. You could taste yourself on him, and you shivered at how it turned you on. When you parted to pull air into your lungs, Derek whispered against your lips, a mischievous glint hidden in his tone.

"We should do that more often."

You felt your face heat up and couldn't help the giggle that escaped at the suggestion. You buried your face in Derek's chest, closing your eyes as you felt the rise and fall of his ribcage and the beat of his heart underneath your cheek, steady as ever, grounding you.

🎃 TAGLIST ➥ @toastbrot8410 @mrs-ssa-hotch @fictionallifestuff @weirdothatwritess @crystalflwr @stella95827 @taintedstranger @mija-novella @gffesegjoiegj @bubbly-parker @mediocremalachor15 @goldenangelwingsandcandy @0nex-is-dead0

[theemporium]

hey love, saw your posts abt marauders smut... how abt siri going full sub mode when reader pulls his hair and/or calls him puppy. and like his moans go all high pitched and desperate and needy and i just kwefhkwegferhjgfrjf

lots of love, hope youre alr xx

hiya love! not really a massive fan of the puppy nickname ngl, sorry about that😅but thank you for requesting! enjoy some general sub!sirius🖤

.

To the world, Sirius Black was the flirt. 

He was a cocky bastard and everybody knew it. He was the kind of guy to have people blushing in seconds, have them giggling and smiling and turning their world upside down just for him. He was the kind of the guy who thrived with the attention, who enjoyed feeling like the man on top of the world.

He had the world wrapped around his finger and everybody knew that, but if there was one person who could have the cocky personal crumbling in seconds, it was you. 

“Please,” Sirius whined, his cheeks flushed and his chest heaving as he tried to fight against the magical bindings you had wrapped around his wrists, but no matter how much he pulled and tugged, they would stay in place. 

“Shhh, gotta be patient,” you murmured, your hand running through his hair as he nuzzled his head against your touch. “Thought you wanted to be a good boy for me?”

“I do,” he breathed out, nodding his head aimlessly. “I wanna be your good boy.”

“Then you gotta be patient f’me, baby,” you murmured as you leaned down to kiss him, lazy and messy as he moaned against your lips, squirming on the bed. 

Your other hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking his length at a slow, torturous pace that had led the boy almost to tears. You had been going at it for the better part of the last hour, keeping the boy constantly tethering the edge that he so desperately wanted to tip over. 

It was his fault for being impatient. He had been desperate for you, practically pawing at you all day and when you eventually reached the library after dinner, you had given him an ultimatum. The boy hadn’t even considered the options before he was crawling under the desk, shoving your panties to the side and dipping his head under your skirt as he lapped at your cunt like a starved man. 

Now, he was tied to your bed, completely naked whilst you were dressed as he bucked and whined and wiggled under your touch, desperate to come and desperate to be inside you. But like you had said earlier, you just wanted him to be patient. And he was damn near losing his mind if he didn’t come soon. 

“I’m your good boy,” he moaned, his face scrunching up in pleasure as your thumb circled the tip of his dick, a choked noise of pleasure leaving his lips.

“My pretty boy,” you cooed as you placed comforting kisses along his jaw and face. “You gonna come for me? Gonna be a good boy?”

“The bestest boy,” he nodded furiously.

“Come for me, baby,” you whispered in his ear, teeth nipping his lobe as you stroked his cock. Whispered praises washing over him as he bucked his hips to meet your thrusts, his come splattered across his stomach and thighs. “That’s my baby.”

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes bleary as you scooped his come with your fingers, slipping them into your mouth before you leaned down to kiss him. He couldn’t help but moan at the taste of himself on your tongue.

“See, good boys get rewarded when they are patient,” you murmured against his lips.

“Do good boys get to fuck you too?”

You grinned, hand cupping his flushed cheek. “Good boys get to fuck me any way they like, baby.”

.

[risuola]

Hi! How about exploring JJK characters as cop with this scenario hehe, ngl this is very Gojo coded for me

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSLcR9FJ1/

POLICEMAN — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

You get back home and see a mess. there was a break into your apartment and your first thought is to call your cop boyfriend.

a/n: i love the concept! thank you for the suggestion <3 i wrote it for gojo, because there’s never enough of this man and imagining him in the police uniform should be illegal, soooo…

cw: slightly angsty. other than that – none — 2k words

“Police, what city?”

“Tokyo, I, uh…” you muttered through shaking breath and tears blinding your eyes. “There has been a break into my apartment, and I, um, I’m not sure, but I hear noises from above, and-“

“What’s the address?”

“It’s, um, Meguro district…”, you worded the address, two times to confirm it, pushing your back to the front doors, that now had their lock completely broken and useless and sliding down to the ground. The dead roses scattered near your legs in a puddle of stale water reminded you that you were alone. Maybe if the flowers weren’t dead, maybe if it was just few days earlier things would not end up like this, with you along the crumbles of what made your reality bearable.

“I’m dispatching police patrol, please stay on the line, don’t touch anything and remain calm. Help is on the way. Now, tell me what exactly happened?”

That night you were out, with your closest friend, enjoying the excellence of Japanese cuisine in the heart of Roppongi. No matter how long you’ve been living in the capital of Japan, it still amazed you with all of the delicious meals, the tradition that laced through the modern takes on dishes that are well-known for centuries and the absolute art of presentation. All of it made every experience magical but this time you couldn’t fully take it all in, the beauty slipped through your thoughts, as your mind was occupied by heartbreak you’ve just recently went through.

It's been a week, only few days but it felt like a year has passed already. Exactly one week ago you fought with the love of your life. Burning screams of the argument, harsh, heavy words and so much cyanide were poured into the explosion of emotions made for one of the worst days in your life and eventually, after hours of failed communication, after tears and helpless whispers, it all came to an end. A breakup, but what broke that day was not only your relationship with Gojo Satoru, not only few plates and one of your favorite mugs, but also your heart and you doubted it’ll ever heal. You don’t even remember what caused it all to shatter, what brought both of you to the point of cutting the strings that attached you two together for over a year but when it happened, it became obvious that there’s no way to tie them back. It seemed like what you had and built dispersed into nothing but hurt and sorrow. You watched him gathering the things he had scattered all over your place in silence and then, you watched him leave. He left you alone, with your face stained in tears and your throat dry and aching from all the words that hurt it.

That was the reason your friend invited you that night for some chill on the city. She knew how heartbroken you were and cheering you up was the mission of the highest importance. Aware of how fresh all of it was still, she didn’t push much, but it went quite nicely, you really put in effort to keep a bright face, but when you came back to your apartment, all of your good humor turned tail, leaving you with fresh new terror to experience. Something you couldn’t possibly be ready for.

Your doors were open, the lock completely broken and all of your mind quickly envisioned every black scenario that could happen right at that moment. You remained silent and entered when you determined that no on seemed to be inside, but what you were met with made your breath stuck in your throat. It seemed like nothing around you was not broken as if a tornado went through your little apartment, destroying everything on its path but when you grabbed your phone, instinctively searching for the number that your recent history of calls and messages knew all to well, the one that you could recite in the middle of the night from your head, you stopped, with your thumb hovering above the green headphone symbol and tears rolling down your face. You couldn’t call him.

When Satoru heard your address coming through the police radio in his car, he blanked for a moment. The street and number with the brief description of an offence taking place echoed in his head before someone on the line, some other patrol, possibly the closest one to your building, informed that is taking the issue and heading on. A residential break-in? And it was made obvious that the ambulance is dispatched as well, so you had to be hurt? Were you in danger? And if so, why wouldn’t you call him instead of those assholes in the general emergency line?

Questions piled up in his head when he informed the dispatcher that he’s also heading on the place, despite the objections of his superiors. All the way he was thinking that the address might be a mistake. Maybe it was another apartment in the building, or better, the building next to yours, maybe someone got something wrong, but when he got to the place, he realized it’s not. Few police cars and an ambulance were already there and by the look of a man being led handcuffed to the police car, he assumed the offender was captured already. Gojo run up the stairs to reach your eleventh floor quicker than the elevator, because he couldn’t wait any longer for it to go down. Adrenaline rushed through his veins saturating his thoughts with the irrational fear of seeing you there hurt, broken, abused. He would never forgive himself for not being here with you when you needed him.

Satoru busted through the door and met with the sight of complete disorder and mess, he almost gasped. He couldn’t imagine how frightened you had to be seeing all of this for the first time, realizing your apartment has been turned into a pile of broken memories, but as he pushed through the crowd that was taking pictures of everything what was broken, he noticed you in what once was your living room area.

You were there, with a blanket draped over your shoulders, surrounded by officers that were pushing you for the typical W’s that consisted of where, what, when, who and why. You sat on what would usually be the bottom of a couch that now has been upside down, visibly distressed and still crying, keeping your eyes down as the paramedic was measuring your blood pressure or whatever else. But you were there. In one piece, not bleeding, breathing quickly, but that was understandable. Sobbing. The cops were harsh on you, gathering your statement, asking for as much specific information as possible, forcing your answers and he knew it was just the procedure being followed, but it angered him nonetheless.

“What the hell happened here?” he almost groaned, stepping forward, when someone, visibly a freshly baked cop, tried to stop him explaining that this is a crime scene and no one’s allowed to get in. “Get out my way, rookie.”

“Let him through,” one of the officers that were around you called, and Gojo was quick to kneel in front of you, quickly assessing if you were hurt anywhere. He double checked. The sight of him made your heart beat faster, what didn’t go unnoticed for the paramedic beside you. Satoru was here, he was there and he came to you, because he cared, right? “We got a call-“

“I heard the call go through,” he cut him off harshly and then turned all of his attention to you, softening his features. The blues of his eyes, usually bright and joyful now were overflowing with concern. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard the address. All I could think was that if it really was your house, you surely wouldn’t just call the police – you would call me. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I assume you know that lady, officer?”, a cop asked and Satoru gave it a sigh, getting up as you stayed non responsive. You were too overwhelmed by the whole thing, the questions, the mess, and the paramedic that tried to force some drugs upon you to help you calm down – Gojo couldn’t blame you for shutting off, so he did what he could in order to finish all of this quicker.

In an hour, you were left alone. He took over the responsibility of making reports, gave few orders and promised to finish the formalities just to get rid of the crowd that invaded your space. Clocking out of the duty, he closed the doors and got back to you.

You were silently picking up pieces of what made your home a home, trying to tidy up, but in all honesty, you had no idea what to do, where to begin. How could you stay here for the night, when your locks didn’t work anymore and in the middle of the night, there was no way of fixing them? Hell, even if the locks would work, it seemed like the building that took pride in the advanced security systems and cameras wasn’t that secure after all. You could go to the hotel, or to your friend, but leaving your apartment open and unattended also didn’t sound well. Your hands were shaking when you tried to clear the floors from everything that was scattered there. Glass in the picture frames was broken, your pillows cut open with the filling thrown all over the place, clothes pulled out of the drawers and everything in between just messed up. As you looked through your belongings, it didn’t really seem like anything valuable was stolen. Jewelry still on its place, your documents untouched and yea, the few hundred yens that you had stored in one of your drawers was gone, but it was hard to believe all of this mess was just for that. Maybe the burglar was looking for something specific.

“Y/n,” Gojo called your name softly, carefully grabbing you by the waist and pulling your petrified form to himself. Immediately, you melted against his chest, wrapping your arms around him, searching for the safety only he could envelop you with. He was more than a home to you; he was everything in the universe that mattered to you.

“I wanted to call you,” you whispered, crying against his black, tight t-shirt that he had underneath his police uniform. The one that you always laughed he bought in the kid section because it was that tight, but nonetheless, you loved it on him. “I wanted to call you, but I had no idea if I should. If I still can.”

“You can always call me. I’ll never leave you without help and I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happen to you,” he cooed, smoothing over your hair, meaning to calm your distressed nerves, but his own heart was beating faster now than it was when he run up eleven floors. The one week of not having any contact with you was torturous to him, it felt wrong not to exchange even a simple hello in the mornings when usually, you would exchange messages for the whole day. He was used to hearing your voice whenever he wanted to, he craved your presence and everything that came with it – the feeling of your soft skin against his own, the subtle fruity scent of your hair, the tickle of your lashes fluttering against his neck when you buried your face there. He missed how your small hands would hide completely in his large palms and he missed how you would climb on top of him while you sleep, shamelessly stealing his warmth because you were almost always cold. Without all of this, his days became empty, incomplete and it only has been few days, but he couldn’t imagine it going on for any longer.

“I was so scared, I-“

“Shh, it’s alright, I’m here.”

“Will you stay with me tonight? I don’t know what to do…”

“Yeah, I will,” he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. “And the night after. And the next one, and every other night. If you’ll have me.”

“I’d love that.”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

omg wait talking about that could i request a tan x med student reader where she uses him to study for her anatomy final,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, like idk she asks him for help to study anatomy and he’s like,,, sure! cuz bbg will have other plans in mind but then she fr starts STUDYING and he’s like,,, r u fr. and like tracing the veins or sumn and she’s sososososos concentrated????

pLSLSLS IDK WHAT OTHER DETAILS TO GIVE NGL BUT FEEL FREE TO DO WHATEVER U WANNA (and to not do it as well btw it’s completely fine and it’s a very weird request 😭😭😭) n ways love u mwuaks

- 🍪

hii angel!! anything to do with arm veins I gobble right up! also I remember nothing from biology at school so this is really short with virtually no sciencey words😭 thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

IN VEIN.

tangerine x fem reader (med student)

^ has no relevance, it’s just really fucking hot

word count. 298

With your anatomy finals approaching faster than you like, you find yourself seeking help - deciding you want to ask your boyfriend to be your model while you study and revise.

"Okay, now top off," you playfully smile, nose scrunching almost innocently. 

"Is that necessary?" Tangerine asks, brows inquisitively furrowing. "Aren't you just looking at my arms?"

"Yep," you say matter-of-factly, tapping your pen on his shoulder. "Come on, now. I'm on a tight schedule."

He chuckles softly, slipping his t-shirt over his head. "Better?" 

You hum, pleased, eyes raking over his bare chest. Feeling his gaze bore holes into the side of your face, you look up - only now noticing the smirk that lines his lips. 

Clearing your throat, you shrug dismissively - acting nonchalant as you pick up his arm, holding under his elbow. You run a finger over a vein on the side of his arm, following the prominent artery with delicate touch, taking note of the placement and size. Sole attention on his lower arm as you scribble into the notebook on your lap, jotting everything down - ignoring the confused hums Tangerine makes.

"Now do this with your hand," you instruct, showing the motion you want him to copy - balling your hand into a fist.

"So you weren't takin' the piss," he murmurs, an amused chuckle slipping as he repeats the action you asked of him. 

You shake your head, too focused to engage with his flirty antics right now—maybe later, just not now—continuing to glide a finger over the raised streaks running up his arm. 

Finishing up on the section of notes, scribbling words across the page, you turn to look up at him - features forcefully stoic. "Okay, now bend over and spread them cheeks— gotta practice prostate exams."

I got distracted and ended up looking at arm veins bc I was looking for scientific words😭😭 look at my top post lmao

also I apologise for the ending, I thought it was funny but idk if that crosses a line😭 reader was just playing, we’re so silly