#and i know i could leave it but that seems like a) a waste and b) a shame

[aurasplanet]

GOT IT CYCLOPS? carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — both are 18+, stupid grimes part 2, e2l?, adopted!rhee!reader, teasing, making out, fingering, jerking off, lovesick once they stop having bitch fights

it went unspoken that you and carl were going to ignore that day in the janitor’s closet. you both were snapped into reality and rescued before things could escalate much further, leaving tension and awkwardness at a high.

and carl couldn’t tell if he liked that or not, on one hand, he’s glad he let everything out and the two of you shared a moment. on the other, you’re really hot when you’re mad.

currently you were ready to chew his ass out, ready to pound his face in for being so stupid. he walked through the streets of alexandria with you hot on his trail, a smirk playing on his lips despite the circumstances.

this was another instance where the adults were trying to put you both together again. they noticed how at peace you seemed after coming home that one day, despite being bombarded by a herd. but after that it was right back to how it was before. and they were determined.

it was mostly rick and daryl, your mom too if she weren’t at the hilltop. you can still remember carl begging you to stay and then acting like he hated your guts again when you caved.

this time the run was nearly successful, though on the way back to your car to load up and leave, carl decided to pick a fight.

carl lifts the trunk with a grunt, tossing in diapers and other things judith needed. you were carrying miscellaneous things negan would want, making your way to the car. you sling your haul into the trunk, turning with a grimace when you hear carl’s snarky laughter.

he points behind you at a trio of walkers headed your way. from the looks of it, it’s only them. but you settle for just your knife anyway. but carl’s hand is on your shoulder before you can make your way to them, they’re about thirty feet away.

“rock paper scissors for ‘em.” he smirks and holds out his fist. you narrow your eyes at him and swat at his hand.

“are you crazy? let’s just deal with them.” you remember him lecturing those kids for playing with the walkers before, now look at him.

carl lifts his hands in the air, “i forgot how afraid you are of losing.” you go to turn to him, ready to spew out the meanest things that came to your head. but he darts ahead of you, killing two of the walkers. the last one is able to get it’s hands on him while he was busying himself with it’s friends. you watch amused as he tackles it to the ground, showing a little struggle as he does so.

you make slow steps to him, watching for a while until the walker’s mouth gets dangerously close to carl���s neck. carl who was still telling you to hold off on killing it. but you ignore him, running over and piercing through it’s eye with your blade in one swift motion.

“i said i fucking had it,” carl huffs as he stands, brushing off his clothes. he looks to you, your sour expression stunning him. “what’s that look for?”

you let out a short laugh and poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue. “you had it? come on, if i wasted thirty more seconds listening to you, i’d have a dead grimes on my hands.”

carl smirks and walks closer to you, placing a hand on your waist, “didn’t know you cared that much, rhee.” you push him away with a dirty look,

“this little cool guy act doesn’t amuse me.” carl sighs and slides his knife back in his belt. “you know what will happen to me if i come back with you bit? i’ll never be trusted again.”

“admit you’d be at least a little sad.” carl’s voice isn’t teasing anymore, it sounds like he genuinely wants you to say it. like he believed you would be so heartless. you just sigh and nod, mumbling a ‘whatever’ and walk to the car. that’s enough for him.

you were still pissed at him for that little stunt, and made it very known. you followed him around all day, making sure to let any strange lookers know that his reckless behavior led him to being babysat all the time.

instead of bickering back he just took it, and even laughed. “what are you laughing at grimes?”

he shrugs, lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair. “i just like riling you up like this.” he smiles at your annoyed expression. “it’s fun!” you roll your eyes and walk past him, parting from him for the first time that day. he looks at where you were just standing, then behind him, running a bit to catch up to you. the approaching footsteps behind you cause you to sigh and cross your arms.

“what happened to babysitting me?”

his voice is still laced with humor, it’s starting to make you mad. “carl.” you whip around, your stern voice startles him, leading him to freeze. you get close to him, so close he can feel your breath on his lips. again, and it drives him crazy.

your composure falls and you adjust yourself on your feet. “carl, i’m not riled up, i’m not just babysitting you. what happened today scared me. you got too cocky with things and almost got yourself killed.”

carl bites his lip nervously, looking into your eyes. he dips his head down, not worrying about the gazes trained on you. “let me make it up to you.”

his lips brush yours and you place your hands on his chest, blocking him from going further. he pouts slightly, tilting his head. “that won’t work this time.”

that night you laid in your dark room, not bothering to turn on the lantern. you were lost in your thoughts, what if you had just let carl be? what if he did get bit? why is he playing it off like it didn’t happen? why is he playing that night off like it didn’t happen?

the last thing has made you snarkier with him. you were pissed he was acting like he hadn’t confessed to you, like he hadn’t kissed you and almost took it to the next base if it weren’t for your little rescue team.

a noise rips you out of your thoughts. it sounded like something small hitting glass. you lift the headphones of your walkman off your head and creep over to your window. on the way you slide your gun off your nightstand, would you realistically need it? nine out of ten times no one could get in the walls, but you’ve learned to never play it too safe.

another noise comes before you can reach the window and you sigh when you see the pebble hit the glass and fall. carl.

you huff and toss your gun onto your bed, rushing to the window and throwing it open. your hands slam on the window seal, a loud smack sound echoing through the night.

“that was a little dramatic.”

“what do you want, grimes?” carl answers you by climbing the tree next to your window. you roll your eyes but stand to the side to allow him entry anyway.

he breathes heavily when he makes it to the top, looking into your room and then at you through the glass. “i can come in?”

you give him a stupid look and lean on your hip, “no, i’ll push you and watch you fall and snap your neck.” you reach out and grab him by the collar to tug him in. “you can be so stupid, grimes.”

“stupid for you.” he attempts to wink but mentally face palms when he realizes that’s definitely not possible at this point. he makes a funny face at himself and you can’t help but smile, his poor attempt at being mr. smooth reminded you of that night.

then your mind drifts to how he’s ignoring it. and you’re back to mad again.

“what do you want?”

carl frowns at your tone, so you’re still mad, got it. “i want to make it up to you. besides the fact, you know, i’m still here and breathing.”

“that’s not the point carl.” you grunt as you sit on your bed, putting your revolver in your nightstand. carl sits next to you, looking at you expectantly for you to continue. a sigh leaves your lips and your head falls to look at your hands instead of him.

“you could have died.” carl opens his mouth to protest, but you’re quicker, placing a hand over his mouth. his shoulders fall dejectedly but he awaits your explanation nonetheless. “you’re being idiotic and careless and just an asshat like you were before.”

your hand slowly falls from his face and he looks at you with a glint of regret in his eye. “i just thought things would change after what you explained and confessed. i didn’t think you’d just act like nothing happened.”

he doesn’t know what to say, so his hand reaches out to grab yours when you smack it. he looks up to see your sad expression wiped away with an angered one. “and if you’d died without acting on whatever the hell that was, believe me grimes, i wouldn’t let you rest easy.” carl smiles at your returned sassy spark, the you that was so fun to toy with.

“okay then, rhee.” he grabs your hand, harsh enough to keep you from pulling away but not enough to hurt you. “catch me doing it again and you can take me out yourself.” you seem satisfied at that, causing carl to laugh at your antics.

“can i finally make it up to you now?” you quirk a brow at him, breath hitching at how close he was getting. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you, but i didn’t want to push anything.” so you do it for him, you close the gap between the two of you with a kiss slower than last time.

you pull away for a second and he chases your lips, leading you both to fall back on the mattress. “if you’re gonna make it up to me, you’re gonna do it right. we’re doing this how i want it. got it, cyclops?” he narrows his eye at you and tilts his head at the nickname, but doesn’t protest against your demands.

you slide your hand through his hair, gripping the tufts near his neck to pull his lips back to yours. he groans against your lips with every tug you make, his hips involuntarily grinding down onto yours.

you guide his right hand up to your waist and his left to your chest. he pulls away, a line of spit connecting your swollen lips. he looks down, finally realizing that all you have on is a sheer tank top and shorts. fitting for summer heat, but the lack of a bra surprises him more than it should.

he swallows thickly and feels his pants get uncomfortably tighter. the hand at your waist tugs your body closer to his while the other makes work on your nipples through your shirt. you can tell he’s inexperienced but so are you, the only thing giving it away is the confused look on his face and how needy he’s acting.

he shuts his eye tightly when you stop his movements and trail your hands down to his pants. you nod your head to the side and carl sits himself against your headboard, watching you intently. he’s breathing heavily again and his right hand comes up to cup your face.

if you were to look up you would see the adoration in his gaze, but your focus is trained on pleasing him instead. your minds are on polar opposite sides. you get his pants down and wrap your hand around him, causing him to suck in a breath through his teeth.

his hand goes to yours before you could even think about going further, “wait.” he pulls you closer to him, placing you on his lap. “i want to make it up to you.” you get the hint when he messily glides you over his cock. he shivers slightly at the contact but holds back as best as he can.

“what happened to this going my way?”

carl lets out a noise between a whine and a groan, “please.” and who are you to deny that?

“i’d like to see the protection you have then.” carl’s head falls back, knocking his hat off. he hadn’t planned things to go this far.

he throws an arm over his face, “where the hell was i supposed to get that?” you pat his cheek as a warning sign,

“don’t get snarky again. i don’t see mini rick and michonne’s running around. i’m sure you could’ve found something.” carl gives you a pointed glare, hinting at you to do the same. “i’m not going in my parent’s room, that’s a one way ticket to busted-town, grimes.”

carl huffs and pushes his sweaty hair away from his face. the comment you had made before about him being pretty, even now, has his face turning slightly pink. “i have an idea.” his hands find their way on your hips, and he looks to you for confirmation before he continues.

he guides you to get on your knees, your cunt hovering right over his dick. he takes two fingers and experimentally runs them through your folds, coating his fingers in your slick. he groans at how wet you are, trying to rack his brain for what to do next.

you giggle at him, watching the gears turn in his head. he smiles softly at you in return, sliding one of his fingers into you. he does his best at trying to keep his composure as he leads your hand to his cock, letting you take the reigns.

he curls his finger, eye searching your face for any hint of pain. your eyes meet his as you run your thumb over his slit, challenging him to keep eye contact. his mouth falls open and his movements are already getting messy. he leans in to kiss you, matching the ferocity from that night in the closet. teeth clashing and moans and heavy breaths mixing.

you feel his thumb on your clit, attempting to rub slow circles but he just can’t hold himself back. his movements echo yours, or what he wants you to give him. instead you’re being too slow for his liking, getting back at him for all his innocent teasing.

but it still gets him close, because he’s starving and it’s you. and he can tell by the way your thighs are shaking that you are too. he parts from your lips just enough to speak, “with me.” he’s so out of it, so breathless and entranced he can barely speak. “please.” you nod, speeding up your movements until his cock is twitching in your hand and making a mess of it and your sheets. though his lap isn’t much better, causing you to bury your head in his neck.

carl couldn’t help but laugh, you’ll never escape his antics if he gets this out of it.

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl grimes #carl grimes smut #twd x reader #twd oneshot #twd imagine #twd smut #twd fanfiction #carl grimes oneshot #carl grimes imagine #carl x reader #carl x you #carl grimes x fem!reader #the walking dead smut #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead fanfiction

[justaz]

arthur has always been suspicious of the tavern excuse for merlin’s absences, but he has no proof on the contrary and when confronted merlin either tells him outlandish tales of near death experiences that have no chance of being remotely truthful or he admits to and apologizes for slacking on his duties to get drunk. one day, he decides enough is enough and he and all the knights go to the tavern with merlin and arthur casually brings up merlin’s history in the tavern and says he could probably beat gwaine in a drinking contest. merlin tries to divert the discussion away from the idea but arthur is determined. they receive a round of drinks and arthur pushes a pint of ale into merlin’s hands with a look of challenge. merlin’s options are to either commit to the lie to hide his secret or admit to the lie and risk exposing his magic. he takes the former. merlin gives lancelot a Look and then slams back the pint of ale with a minor bit of gagging and pauses to breath. gwaine already finished his pint thirty seconds ago but its entertaining to watch merlin so he doesn’t say anything.

merlin (built like a twig, rarely drinks, lightweight) is proper sloshed. arthur is almost vindicated but he needs merlin to admit it. he orders two more pints and gives one to gwaine and the second to merlin, instigating the competition further despite the fact that gwaine won already. merlin grimaces and tries to do the same thing again but only gets a few gulps in before he folds. he slams the mug down and gives arthur a kicked puppy look before admitting and apologizing for lying. arthur is Vindicated. merlin is still wasted.

the nights wears on and merlin feels the effect of the ale more and more every minute that passes. he sits between arthur and lancelot and feels almost unbearably warm but that could be bc of the alcohol in his system, or the crowded tavern. merlin looks around and watches the people that pass their table by while the knights talk and joke and laugh amongst themselves. merlin feels relaxed and excitable now, his worries seem to have melted away and he cant seem to remember why he was always so stressed and worn down before. he sees a game of [insert game here] (i was gonna say darts but google says that game hasn’t been invented in canon time so ill leave it up to interpretation) going on and climbs over lancelot to join in.

the knights watch with amusement and anticipate merlin’s clumsy attempts at [whatever]. oddly enough tho, merlin is a fucking god at [game]. a small crowd gathers and betting pools form and then challengers approach and put money on the line to go against merlin and merlin absolutely demolishes them all. honestly if arthur didn’t know any better, he’d think merlin was using magic to win bc there was no way his bumbling fool of a servant was that good at…anything.

the challengers take their defeat with honor and grace. the audience is a huge fan of merlin and they keep buying him drinks but he just sends them to the table for the other’s to drink. many people come up to him and flirt, maybe motivated by all the money he won that night or maybe just bc he’s merlin, and when merlin responds to them he’s………..he’s a real good fucking flirt? like could put gwaine to shame and he’s rejecting them???? how can someone come across so flirtatiously while turning down offers to take various beautiful people to bed??

arthur was already itching to intervene when people were flirting with merlin but he seemed to have a handle on it so he let it slide, but then people started touching merlin and arthur’s hand had drifted to his hip where his sword was usually sheathed. however, again, merlin was very skilled at escaping the situations with little to no conflict and he came back to the table with his winnings. the knights cheer for him and order more drinks with his money which merlin is too inebriated to notice and truthfully doesn’t really care about. his eyes are on arthur and if arthur thought watching merlin flirt from afar was bad then having him up close in his personal space, hands brushing against his arms and dark eyelashes fluttering softly against his pale skin, breathing his name into the space between them and licking his full pink lips was absolute torture and the worst and best agony he couldn’t even dream up.

#bbc merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merthur #lancelot #gwaine #drunk!merlin #the tavern excuse was bound to fall apart one day #since merlin is usually a big people person and people absolutely adore him while sober #i thought i’d dial that up to 100 while drunk #same for people falling for him. you thought he was drop dead gorgeous while sober? look at him drunk. #maybe its magic. maybe its maybelline. #i had to put merthur in its just who i am atp #when merlin and arthur are about to kiss - as tempting as it is to let them at it - lancelot intervenes #the look merlin gave him was a request for lancelot to prevent merlin from doing anything stupid #and hes pretty sure sober!merlin would consider this as something stupid #so he drags him back to the castle and he and giaus force him into his bed and lock him up like a princess #i just found this in my drafts from like months ago #why did i never post this??? LMAO

[otomehoneyybearr]

Keith VS Kagari

The Beast Tempts the Little Rabbit Episode 2

*Updated sentence

*Keith: "Hunting someone down...?"

Keith: "...Is such thing a common occurrence?"

Kagari: "It is in Kogyoku."

Keith: "..."

(Oh, there's a crease between Prince Keith’s eyebrows...)

Kogyoku is a country in turmoil. While there may be areas with good security depending on the territory, the overall situation isn't good.

(Perhaps the normal in Kogyoku is different from what I consider normal.)

Kagari: "Don't worry, there won't be a war. I just need stop a negotiation from happening."

Kagari: "But, it's not so minor of an offense that I can just let things slide either."

Glancing at the sword leaning against the table seemed to send a chill that caressed my heart.

Keith: "...I get the gist of it. I'll help with your search."

Keith: "But just one thing, please understand that this is Jade, not Kogyoku.

Keith: "If anyone poses as a threat to my people, I intend to impose the appropriate punishment, even if it's you, Kagari."

Keith: "Understand?"

(He's completely different from his usual self.)

The gentle and calm demeanor is gone, and his voice carries a royal dignity, making the atmosphere tense.

Kagari: "I understand."

Kagari: "I've been told this every time I come to Jade, I'm getting tired of hearing it."

(So coming to Jade for troublesome reasons is not something new.)

Thinking about it, I can't help but feel a bit sorry for Prince Keith.

Keith: "Finding them quickly is also in the interest of the city's safety."

Keith: "Kagari, can you tell me the description of the person you're looking for?"

Kagari: "A male merchant with black hair, and his height is—

(Wait, could it be…?)

…..

Keith: "Emma."

Emma: "Wah...!"

Keith: "S-Sorry! I got too close, didn't I? I didn't mean to startle you."

Keith, moving his chair back with a jump, coughed softly, his eyes darting around.

Keith: "While Kagari was talking, you had a troubled look on your face, so I got curious."

Emma: "Well... I thought the person Kagari was looking for resembled the one I bumped into earlier in the city."

Kagari: "Where did he go?"

I relayed the location of the collision and how the man disappeared into the mansion along the deserted street.

Keith: "I believe there's a charity party being held at that mansion."

Kagari: "The mansion’s within the event area. It's perfect for slipping into the crowd and taking hostages if something happens."

Keith: "..."

Kagari: "Just kidding. You'll get wrinkles on your forehead with that expression. Lighten up."

Keith: “I think I already have wrinkles.”

(Kagari's jokes never sound like jokes...)

Kagari: "Thank you for the meal."

With a dignified posture, Kagari clasped his hands together, leaving only an empty plate in front of him.

(All those dorayaki ended up in his stomach...)

(Is he a sweet tooth, or just a big eater? Or maybe it’s just dorayaki he indulges in?)

Kagari: "Keith, do we need an invitation for the party?"

Keith: "No, it should be open to anyone."

Kagari: "Then there's no issue."

Emma: "You’re going in?"

Kagari: "Since we don't know if he's still in the mansion, it wouldn’t be wise to wait for him to come out."

Kagari: "And I'd rather not waste effort for no gain."

Kagari: "So, Princess."

Emma: "Hmm?"

He grabs my hand abruptly.

Keith: "Just a moment, Kagari."

This time, Prince Keith grabs my other hand.

Keith: "What are you planning to do with Emma?"

Kagari: "She'll be accompanying us to the party."

(...What?)

Kagari: "It’d be easier to blend in at a party with a her than with another man."

Kagari: "And if something happens, it'd be easier for me to protect her."

(I’m going too!?)

…..

A few hours later—

Keith: "Emma, I want you to hit me."

Emma: "I not going to hit you."

I accepted Kagari's offer and came to the charity party.

Standing next to me, was Prince Keith with a visibly apologetic expression, and his eyebrows furrowed.

Keith: "But I got you involved in trouble. I need to get punched once on the cheek and once in the stomach to make it fair."

Keith: "Oh, but then your beautiful hand would turn red. I’ll need to compensate you with something else."

Kagari: "Let me do it. I'm used to throwing punches."

Kagari, who stood on the opposite side of Prince Keith, slightly leaned toward me.

(Even though we've only known each other for a few hours, it surprising how quickly we've grown so close...)

Emma: "I appreciate both of your concern for me."

Emma: "However, I don't feel like I've been dragged into trouble at all, so please don't worry."

Emma: "I haven't thanked either of you yet for picking up my wallet or for help me earlier, so..."

Emma: "I'm actually grateful for the opportunity to be of help to guys."

Keith: "Emma..."

Emma: "Besides, if something bad is about to happen, I want to stop it too."

Emma: "You can trust that I have the courage and determination to overcome whatever comes our way."

I clenched a fist to show my determination.

Kagari: "That's the kind of spirit we're looking for. Well done, Princess."

Keith: "Emma, you can rest assured that we will keep you safe."

Keith: "Thank you for agreeing to do this. Let's work together until we find the person we're looking for."

Emma: "Right, I will do my best. And thank you."

The uncertainty vanished from Prince Keith’ face and was replaced by relief.

(Alright, let's find him.)

I discreetly scan the room, searching for the targeted man.

Since entering the mansion, I had been carefully observing my surroundings, but there didn't seem to be anything suspicious about the party itself.

Unaware of any shady dealings happening behind the scenes, the participants seem to be enjoying themselves.

Woman: "Hey, do you think it’s okay for me to approach them?"

Woman: "But they’re already with a lady. Which gentleman is her companion?"

Woman: "W-well, it couldn’t be both, could it...?"

(Sure enough, it’s conspicuous having two men with one woman!)

(But we don’t know what kind of mischief Kagari might cause if he’s alone.)

(And Prince Keith advised against me being alone with Kagari, saying he would push me to my physical and mental limits.)

Both of them had strikingly handsome features, which made us even more noticeable, and I couldn't let my guard down while pretending to be a lady.

(But for now, it doesn't seem like we're being watched too closely.)

Keith: "Here you go, Emma."

Prince Keith, who was next to me, offers me a glass.

Emma: "Oh, thank you. I was actually feeling a bit thirsty."

Keith: "Really? Me too. Luckily, that servant happened to pass by us."

Keith: "Is non-alcoholic okay for you too, Kagari?"

Kagari: "Yeah. Just in case."

(Just in case?)

While pondering this question, I take a sip from the glass I received.

(Mmm! This drink is deliciously sweet and sour.)

It had a refreshing aftertaste, and it seemed to loosen up the tension and fatigue that I hadn't even realized I was feeling.

(Maybe I was too tense.)

I silently thank Prince Keith for his subtle kindness.

Kagari: "..."

Emma: "Um, what's the matter, Kagari?"

Feeling a sudden gaze from beside me, I lift my head.

Kagari looks me up and down for a while —

Kagari: "You're cute, Princess."

Emma: "Is there some meaning behind that compliment?"

(While it's nice to receive praise, it's so sudden that I can't help but suspect there might be something more to it.)

Kagari: "I just remembered being taught to compliment people these types of situations."

(I see, it's just social etiquette.)

Keith: "Setting aside what was just said, I've been thinking the same thing as Kagari.”

Keith: "Emma, every dress you tried on looked great."

Keith: "That light-colored dress with abundant lace was also cute. Oh, and the next one you tried on—"

With a furrowed brow, Keith smiles softly, making my heart flutter.

(That's right. There’s another thing other than the dresses that was chosen for me.)

Remembering, I touch my chest.

There, a brooch depicting cherry blossoms with pale pink gems and pearls sparkled.

Kagari: "It's small, but surprisingly eye-catching."

Kagari: "Seems we found a flower that suits you besides roses."

Emma: "I'm happy to hear you say that, since you’re the one who chose it for me."

Keith: "But it was unexpected. For you to pick out a brooch for someone else?"

Kagari: "It might come in handy in case you encounter an enemy alone, Princess."

(Oh...)

Keith: "Kagari... perhaps that’s the main reason you gave it to her?"

Kagari nodded as if it were obvious.

Kagari: "Aim for the opponent's eyes with the brooch pin and create an opportunity to escape."

Kagari: "Remember, hesitation can be fatal. When you strike, do it decisively. Got it?"

Emma: "...I'll keep that in mind."

(To think that was the reason... it's oddly like Kagari.)

(But considering the color and design of the dress didn't clash,)

(He probably didn't choose this brooch just to create an opportunity to escape.)

That small gesture of thoughtfulness seemed to further motivate me.

(Are they still in the mansion...?)

I tidied my slightly disheveled hair in another room and headed to the dance hall where the two of them were waiting.

Since then, we've checked the dining room, the reception room, and the entrance, but found no clues.

(It's too early to give up.)

(We haven't seen every part of the mansion yet, so he could be on the other side of the dance hall—)

Man: "..."

(Th-there he is...!!)

Emerging from around the corner was undoubtedly the man I bumped into in the city.

My heart races with excitement and tension at the sudden appearance.

(He's heading deeper into the mansion. I need to inform the two of them quickly.)

(But it might be better to figure out where he's going first.)

I took a step forward.

(―Huh!?)

At that moment, someone suddenly pulled me back.

Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ending | Epilogue

▼・ᴥ・▼

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikepri keith #keith howell #ikepri kagari #kagari amagase

[danisbrainrot]

I love misty and you so... misty is obsessed with the reader and always making them little gifts, following them everywhere and trying to help with everything while the reader is going from "girl we talked like twice fuck off" to "that's creepy but actually kinda cute ig"

misty quigley x reader

OMG I LOVE THIS ACTUALLY!! misty in her joe goldberg era 🤭 I don't know how far you wanted me to go, so I'll keep this relatively sfw. if you want a nsfw version, just ask!!

slamming your locker open, you started ruffling through it in search of your textbook that was mysteriously missing, when a small box fell out. you paused what you were doing, crouching down to inspect it.

it was a plain plastic box, that contained a funky little smiley face ring in it. this wasn't the first gift you'd received that month, having found something different in your locker everyday. this one was just an odd surprise—you wondered how they knew you loved novelty rings. snorting while covering your mouth with your hand, you wasted no time slipping it on your finger with a grin.

your friend, mari, waved at you, ready to walk you to class when she noticed your new gift, "hey, where'd you get the ring?"

you shrugged, "found it in my locker. someone must have slipped it in? I'm not sure, but we're going to be late," you reply, finding the textbook and slamming the locker shut.

"isn't this like the fourth weird gift you've found this week? you might have a secret admirer!" mari teases, causing you to groan and roll your eyes.

the two of you head to class, not noticing misty who was hiding behind the wall, watching you the entire time. she smiled softly, glad you liked her little gift. she pulled out a notepad, placing a small tick next to 'cute jewellery.'

she followed you to class, having picked the same classes as you so you'd never leave her sight. you'd chosen to sit at the back with your friend, whereas misty was forced to sit at the front. she scowled and watched the clock all lesson until class finished.

not wanting to waste time, misty got to work making her next gift for you. she pulled out her notepad and saw the next gift idea was 'love letters'. flicking to a new page, misty neatly wrote your name in cursive, ready to start when she realised she didn't know what to say.

your laughter from the back of the room made misty perk up, finally sure what she wanted to write. she began scribbling frantically as she didn't want to forget any compliments.

when class finished, you walked past her and saw your name at the top of the page in her neat handwriting. your heart raced, not sure how to feel about it, before looking away and focusing on the conversation with mari. misty quickly tried to cover the letter as you walked past, not realising you'd already seen it.

you'd completely forgotten about misty's letter until the next day, when you'd opened your locker to find it neatly laid on top of your books. it freaked you out that she knew how to break into your locker—even wondering if she knew your combination or it was a coincidence that it landed perfectly.

turning around, your eyes scanned the hall—misty was nowhere in sight. a shiver creeped up your spine, knowing she could be watching you at any minute and you wouldn't know. slamming your locker shut, you didn't bother reading it.

watching from her hiding spot, she sighed, wondering why you didn't like her latest gift. she pulled out her notepad and crossed out 'love letters' and shoved it in her backpack. she quietly followed you, not realising you were heading for the bathroom. when she saw you walk in, her heart raced as she tried to make a quick decision—did she follow you and seem suspicious? or just head to your next lesson and wait for you?

seeing mari enter after you, she decided on the second option and ran to your next class. this time she managed to snag a seat at the back, able to see you perfectly no matter where you sat. however, when five minutes passed and you still weren't in class, she began to feel disappointment simmering in her stomach.

raising her hand in the air, the teacher called on her, "can I go to the toilet?" misty asked, the teacher nodded. she grabbed her stuff, stomping straight to the toilet she'd seen you in last. carefully opening the door, trying not to make a big sound she saw your feet under one of the stalls.

"mari? is that you?" you call out, hearing no other response, you huff. "do you have a pad? or a tampon?" misty lightened up, rustling through her bag and handing you a pad from under the door. "thanks," she smiled widely, wondering whether or not to say anything.

when misty heard you flush the toilet, she knew it had been too long to say anything, so you ran out of the toilet and back to class. she pulled out her notebook and added a new addition to her list 'pads'.

after school, you made your way to soccer practice. placing your stuff to the side of the field, you don't notice misty had approached you from behind. you almost jump in shock. "misty what the fuck," you hiss, clutching your heart.

"sorry, I just noticed you didn't bring your water bottle today," she explains, making you scrunch your nose in confusion—she almost fainted at the sight. you began ruffling through your bag, swearing you'd brought it, but failing to find it. "here! I always bring bottled water as a backup?"

you accept it graciously, smiling at her—a good effort considering you were still frustrated from losing your old bottle. waving goodbye to her before running on to the field, she searched her bag to see if your water bottle was still there—when her hand wrapped around it, she smiled.

misty didn't have time to add 'water' to the list, since she was the equipment manager both coaches needed her. but once practice was finished, she made sure to tick the latest discovery.

watching your sweaty body pour the bottled water over your face made her stomach tingly, as she tried to ignore the hot feeling you gave her. she had a mission to complete, now was not the time to let her hormones crowd her thoughts.

misty approaches you and van, "hey! I found your water bottle," she announces, holding it out for you.

your heart sinks, as you send van a nervous glance. van struggles to hold back her laughter, as you give misty a strained smile. "thank you. . . where did you find it?"

"your bag?" van teases.

"no!" misty cries, readjusting her glasses, "it was in one of the sports bags. you must have accidentally thrown it in last practice," she lies perfectly. you pretend you believe her, trying to get out of the conversation.

snatching the bottle out of her hand, you shove it in your bag. "that's a nice ring," misty compliments, you look down at it, then back at her suspiciously.

"did you get it for me?" you ask nervously, heart racing as you did. she nodded her head eagerly, making you feel sick. "what the fuck, misty?" noticing how awkward it had become, van excused herself and left the two of you alone—making you uncomfortable. "are you like, stalking me or something? why do you keep giving me things? it's weird!"

misty readjusts her glasses again nervously, "I'm just not. . . i—um, it's because—"

"seriously, you need to fuck off, this is so creepy," you reply. turning on your heel, you power walked far away from her, leaving the blonde dejected.

misty stomped to the equipment shed, trying to think of ways to get you to love her. coach ben entered, trying his best to avoid her gaze, but it was too late, "coach, how do I get the person I like to like me back?"

he stared at her oddly, "um. . . I'm not sure, misty. maybe find something they like?"

"I tried that!" she complains.

he shrugged, "I don't think this is a conversation we should be having," he replies.

misty groans in frustration, "okay coach," she whispers sarcastically, stomping out of the shed. she was in a foul mood and nothing could stop it.

over the next couple of days, it was relatively quiet. you didn't receive any more trinkets, which surprisingly made you upset. you missed the little gifts misty left in your locker—but mostly, you felt guilty for yelling at her. she was just being nice and you were a bitch to her.

that's why, during lunch, you approached her where she usually sat. misty was crouched over her notepad, scribbling on it. sitting next to her, "I'm sorry for yelling at you," you whisper, making her jump.

"jesus! you scared me," she replies, before smiling when she realised it was you. "oh. . . it's okay," you look at what she was writing and noticed your name was on the top of the page.

you bumped her shoulder with your own, "what're you writing?" you tease, causing her to blush a deep crimson. she passed the note to you, letting you read it. it was a long apology for being 'creepy'. you giggle, biting your lip. "you didn't have to do this, I should be the one apologising," she shrugs.

"it was weird," she whispers, looking at the ground.

you place your fingers under her chin, forcing her to look at you. "it was sweet. I see that now," you assure her. to make it sink, you lean in and softly press your lips against hers. sending her nerves into overdrive, misty gets eager and responds by kissing you back harder—almost devouring your lips. you don't mind, however, it's nice to be hungered for.

—💌—

25 years later

slotting your key in the lock, you turn it until you hear the satisfying click and shove the door open. trudging through the hall, you end up in the kitchen and place the groceries on the bench. your phone rings, and you smile when you see your girlfriend's face. "hey, did you check the fridge," misty asks, making you pause.

you froze, wondering what she was talking about. leaving the phone on the counter, opening the fridge door and seeing a cupcake on one of the trays. you bit your bottom lip while smiling, picking up the phone. "thank you, my love. did you make it yourself?"

"of course, I know how much you love my gifts," she replies, you snort loudly and bring the treat to your lips, taking a bite out of it and moaning in delight.

misty waited patiently on the other side of the line, blushing when she heard the sound come out of your mouth. "it's delicious, thank you, misty," you compliment.

"it's to make up for being late tonight, I'm sorry," she sighs, and you hear typing sounds on the other end of the phone.

you smile widely, "don't worry about it. if anything, it'll make your surprise easier to plan," you tease—practically hearing her ears perk up.

she thanks you quickly, explaining that it was getting busy at work. you use this to get started on the gift you were preparing for her.

"I'm home!" misty called out, closing the door behind her. when she was greeted by silence, she frowned. you always met her at the door, placing a kiss on her cheek.

sniffing the air, she smelt her favourite dinner being prepared and her stomach practically growled. misty walked into the kitchen with a beaming smile on her face.

you turn around, a cute little apron on and a spatula in hand. "hey! you said you were working late," you complain, pouting at her.

she shrugs, "sorry, they let me go because someone could cover the rest of my shift," misty explains. you smile, walking towards her and wrapping your arms around her neck. you claim her lips with your own, and she can taste the flavours from dinner.

"I figured that you always give me sweet gifts, it's time for me to return the favour. it was low key creepy in the beginning, but now it's cute. thank you," you whisper. she eagerly smashes her lips on yours, backing you against the counter. you giggle into the kiss, wrapping your legs around her waist and jumping up on the bench.

the dinner sizzled, as it was starting to burn, but the two of you didn't care, too absorbed by each other.

#misty quigley #misty x reader #fanfic #misty quigley x reader #fluff #wlw #danisasks #oneshot #yellowjackets #mari yellowjackets #creepy misty #van palmer #angst with fluff #angst with comfort #happy ending #yellowjackets showtime

[everygayhere]

May the fun commence

hey this the first fanfic i've ever posted so like if you could give any notes that would be really appreciated and also go a little easy maybe... possible pls.

summary: Y/N a college student who is traveling to Malibu beach and have a fun vacation and maybe get to know her crush Marlow a bit more, while also avoiding Tara the most annoying person. Little does she know that maybe more interesting paths await her at this beach house. Tara carpenter a free spirted women who likes to have her fun drinking and hanging out with friends and avoiding the one person she knows won't be here Y/N.

Part 1

Loud sounds of pelting rain hit the roof. As Y/N sits in her room with the murmurs of the television in the background which has been forgotten. Scrolling through her Instagram mindlessly noticing everyone enjoying their summer, FOMO at an all time high. She has a long exhale of breath as she sees her crush Marlows’s post. Jealousy consumes her as she analyzes the photo of a random girl’s arms wrapped around their body. To close for her comfort she thinks. Quickly scrolling past to see her friend Alva’s post about her lavash vacation and the summer sun, wishing she could be there.

Yet here she lays in the comfort of her bed wasting the day away. You see it’s not like she wasn’t invited to come along with them on their vacation. She just said no. Her parents didn’t mind her going, it's just that sometimes they embarrass her. When she told them that her friends wanted her to come along on their vacation her parents were fine with it; they were actually happy. They couldn’t wait to get their daughter out of their house for some alone time and so their daughter could have fun.

To Y/n credit she was packing to get ready to go but then her mum pulled the stunt of giving her condoms and a sex talk and that just made her not want to go. So now the envy of her friends having fun, well she was stuck at home once again was on her this time, but maybe it was for the best since Tara Carpenter was there. A part of her didn’t mind that she wasn’t on Malibu Beach sun tanning and basking in the warm air but the other part was so pissed off.

A knock was heard at Y/N’s door, “darling hey I was just coming up to see if you were okay or needed anything?”. Her mother questions at the closed door. “Ah no i’m good thanks though mum” Y/N heard her mother sigh as her footsteps became distant. Is it possible for my summer to get any worse she thought to herself. *DING* the sound of a notification rang out into her room, her screen lighting up from the right of her. Of Course it could, why the hell would it not. There on her locked screen lit up a notification of a post Marlow  just uploaded and in the tagged mentions was Tara Carpenter insta. As Y/N clicked the notification the image of Tara and Marlow was brought up to her face. The two of them grinning into the camera with their eyes covered by sunglasses. Marlow was wearing a wife beater while Tara had an unbuttoned Hawaiian style shirt and a Nike sports bra underneath.

Now normally Y/N would be smiling at this photo like a kid in a candy store but she couldn’t seem to hold that expression not when Tara was in it arms crossed over her chest, abs on display her biceps popping out with the sweat that dripped from her arms. Ugh why the hell did Tara have to ruin everything. She just had to be friends with Marlow. I mean who cares if they were friends since the start of college, maybe Y/N didn’t want Tara to ruin her only chance with Marlow. 

That’s it this is how my love life is going to be something or someone is going to always get in the way. No matter what. I am just destined to be alone forever. Y/N thinks to herself as she continues to see her mutuals all hanging out and having fun, couples kissing each other and posting about their life while on vacation. She then decides to get up and leave her room and go somewhere. I mean she has several more weeks before she’s back at school. Maybe she should just go to Malibu and hang with her friends. They did say that she could fly over and stay at their villa when she was ready, and this is her being ready.

Y/N packs her bags once again and heads down stairs where she sees her parents in the living room. They both turn when they hear her footsteps coming down the stairs. “Hey honey, what are you doing with those bags?” her mum asks.  “I’ve decided to get ready to leave for that vacation with my friends in LA” Y/N says looking at her mother with her head held high. “Well that’s wonderful news, but how are you going to get there darling? Flights are already fully booked for the next 2 weeks” her father responded with a confused look on his face. Amelia nudges her husband. “I was just going to drive there, nothing says great freedom like taking a 9 hour and 53 minute drive from here to LA, well LA Malibu beach”  Y/N responded. “ Well okay then have a fun message when you get there and remember safe sex is the best option besides no sex but you know what i mean” her mother smiles at her giving her a wink. “Ew mum like I said I am not going to have sex i’m just going to hangout with Alva and the others” Y/N responded while walking out the front door towards her car. “Okay well don't forget that you have to wear protection when you get a little frisky with girls honey and also, please understand you could still get an STD!” her mother shouts out towards her. “Yes, I know mum, I take health class!” Y/N  responded back, packing her bags into her car.

She hops into the front of her car and puts the directions on her GPS and connects her phone so she can listen to music on her way there. As she’s driving off she decides that this time is probably the best to get herself a coffee. So she pulls up to a cafe and off onto the road she goes. 

Several hours of driving and great playlist’s later she arrives at the villa Alva messaged her when she was driving down. At this moment she second guesses herself on whether or not she should be here. Then she sees Alva on the balcony and texts her telling her she's here, she can see Anika read it since Alva bolts from the balcony 2 minutes later she’s running out of the front door and towards Y/N’s car. “You actually came!!! Oh my god, holy shit I really thought you were bullshitting again.” “At this moment I really do wish I was too.” Y/N responded with dread filling her face.

“Oh come on, it's not that Y/nn” Alva responded by wrapping her arm around her shoulder and dragging her along with her. “Not that bad?... look how many people are here.” as Y/N scans the driveway jammed packed with cars like a goddamn puzzle. With the music blasting out to the where the two stand outside facing the front entrance. “Look it’s really not this packed all the time we just so happen to have a party the day you arrived….” Alva says well looking away from Y/N to the house. Y/N turns back to face Anika and gives her a raised eyebrow “oh really? You know that's pretty weird considering you’re good at planning ahead of time and you knew I was going to be here today.” Alva doesn’t look at her as she response “what… that’s not-” in the middle of Anika responding she turns to Y/n to explain and see the really? Face Y/n is giving her “okay maybe i did know… but it doesn’t matter now you're here and you are going to have fun with me.” Alva gives Y/N a big smile and drags her to the house by her forearm.  ‘May the fun commence.. I guess’ Y/n thought as she entered the front door.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #mabel x reader #cairo sweet x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jennaortegaxg!preader

[penguin--rat]

THE TERMINATION OF RT465-002 (dr ostrov belongs to @mayyak, ms schuhart belongs to @tarot-the-silly-one)

5.4. 19:30 This is my first time alone since the experiment started yesterday. I will keep this short.

Nobody seems ‘too disturbed’ yet. Only Dr. Ostrov left, but that was to be expected. Ms Schuhart is trying to stay professional. Unsure how long that will last. Neither of their participations are necessary, but if everyone who is to participate in this experiment quits, what then? Will I have to monitor it on my own? I’d handle it, but I would rather my colleagues grow a spine than for it to come to that.

Half of the subject’s heart + brain have been removed.

6.4. 23:10 Busy day. No time to write an entry. Dr. Ostrov still isn’t here. Ms Schuhart is still working with me. Considering requesting somebody to replace Dr. Ostrov if he doesn’t come in tomorrow.

7.4. 13:50 I have time to write my thoughts now. Dr. Ostrov did not come in yesterday, and I’m beginning to doubt he will come in today. Despite what I wrote yesterday, I don’t want to take an opportunity like this away from him. If he doesn’t come in today, a phone call would be appropriate – if not out of personal interest, then out of professional interest. Maybe a text message would be better than a phone call.

Ms Schuhart is currently working on a separate project. I believe she will return. Despite our differing views, I’d dislike for her to resign from this project. Should I thank her? No, that would hint to– Maybe  “I know this is not easy for you. I appreciate your cooperation.” Would that be appropriate?

8.4. 10:15 My schedule is tight today. About ¾ of the heart was removed, as well as another half of the brain. I sent Dr. Ostrov a message, and found out he will not be participating in this any further. I’ll request somebody to replace him. Ms Schuhart is still working.

9.4. 17:50 I’ll take a break at the end of this week (12.4.). Not too long. Or – not a week. 8 days. The 7 days mark is important, and there might be development to observe, decisions to be made. Instead, I will – Tomorrow will be– I’ll take a break at the end of this week (12.4.). Not too long. Or – not a week. 8 days. The 7 days mark is important, and there might be development to observe, decisions to be made. Instead, I will – Tomorrow will be–

A break would help my productivity, but leaving for too long is unacceptable. What qualifies as ‘too long’? From my experience it varies. It’s natural for my colleagues to get caught up in work, but would it be weird to get caught up with this? Would they think so… Mm. I’ll ask Viktor about this.

10. 4. 18:30 Found a replacement for Dr. Ostrov. Ms Schuhart is missing today. I was not aware she held a fondness for RT465, and was under the assumption she disliked the subject, but I am not surprised. Sentimental ones like her always give out.

Perhaps somebody else from another department would be a better fit for this experiment? Somebody that didn’t know the subject – but would I be forced to quit this experiment then, as its primary handler? I don’t want my “worry over Dr. Ostrov and Ms Schuhart” to be mistaken as grief. If the latter desires, she can resign from this experiment herself, no? But as the one leading this experiment, it is my duty to do something about this.

I will stop writing down the time unless it is important, too (waste of time).

11.4.  I suspect Petro Volkov would have been capable of participating/monitoring this experiment. Though he was a difficult man, he wasn’t bothered by ‘morals and ethics’. It pains me to flatter him, and it only pains me further to wish he were here.

Removed ¾ of the heart and ⅓ of the brain. + Ms Schuhart is back.

12.4. The subject’s ‘heart’ (a red clump)  is thrashing, not really beating, but there is still a pulse. RT465 could have been our greatest work, had it not been– as it was. Had it been better. It’s a shame, even I can see that. Ms Schuhart + the other one are working as instructed.

13.4. An intern joined us today, but I sent it away before he could contaminate the project (vomit). Terrible. I worry that I underestimated the ‘cruelty’ of this experiment, and am ‘under-reacting’... Though I heard that that’s a natural grief response, too, I don’t want to be mistakenly accused of ‘grieving’ the subject–

I have not yet taken my break!! But I was right not to leave my coworkers (the intern) today, had he thrown up in the subject’s chest. But, when should I go? 3 weeks would be most practical. Any errors should become clear before then. Around the 25th? But that’s near the end of the month– the 20th? But that’s too soon…

14.4. My colleagues are working as instructed. Dr. Ostrov hasn’t returned to work at all since he left. Visiting him would be bad for my productivity. I’ll send him another message. That’s the right thing to do, I believe.

The experiment has been going on for 10 days. I’m happy :) Removed ⅓ of both heart + brain. Sometimes I think I see it twitching/seizing? Administer more anesthetic/Possibility the subject isn’t getting enough nutrition to heal properly.

15. 4. Busy day. Working on other experiments + this. Colleagues working as instructed.

16. 4. Busy day. Colleagues are working as instructed. Checked schedule. I was right, we’ll be understaffed at the end of the month. Break in may?

17. 4. The replacement for Dr. Ostrov resigned. I’m once again thankful for Ms Schuhart’s cooperation. However I’ve been thinking about having her off the experiment. It’s clear she doesn’t approve of this. Her disapproval could have a negative effect on the experiment, ex. She could refuse to work one day. And I don’t want to ‘owe’ her.

Her resigning by herself would be– worse. Three people resigning from the same experiment… bad!!! Don’t want this cut short. I could work on the experiment with only one assistant – I will request this. Unsure how to get Ms Schuhart off the project in a normal way. Removed ⅔ of the heart and ⅓ of the brain.

18. 4. Busy day. Ms Schuhart is working as instructed. No progress with my goal yet. Looking at HR rules and regulations. 2 weeks since this began. Considering removing another organ fully, ex. lung.

19. 4. Working on getting Ms Schuhart off the experiment. Only 2 people working on this would help me make the most of the budget, too…

RT465’s hair is growing long again. Why didn’t I fully shave it before this started? Cut the subject’s hair. It’s already growing again. Hate that, I have to clean it all up now. Some of the stray strands are sticking to its face – it's sweating. I’ll wash it off. So much to do, ugh.

Not much to share today.

20. 4. Effectively removed Ms Schuhart from the project. Her replacement hasn’t come in yet, so I’m alone today. I’d keep it like this but I need somebody watching over the subject when I’m sleeping, wake/call me in case of an emergency, etc. I’ll sleep here tonight.

DON’T FORGET: ⅓ of the heart, ⅔ of the brain, and an organ of my choice

21. 4. Busy day. The replacement is here, I have to teach him the ropes. He’s fine. Rude, but does his job as instructed. I shouldn’t have to remove him from the project. Unless he throws up. Blegh.

RT465 is having trouble. I’ll sleep here again tonight.

22. 4. The replacement is doing well. The subject is struggling more since its left lung was removed. I’m trying to believe in its ability to pull through, but it’s let me down so many times before...

Though it wasn’t a complete failure, it didn’t meet its full potential, either. It was trying, its last week alive, to prove itself. I’m thankful - had it not, this experiment couldn’t have taken place. There’s not much I can do to guarantee its survival. More anesthetic, maybe.

23. 4. Forgot to put in a request for a day off. Will do so tomorrow. The heart has fully regrown, the lung and brain are still missing pieces. My assistant wants to remove half of it again, or ‘at least a quarter’, but I want to wait until – what? Until it has a better chance of survival? This is its termination. ‘Survival’ is not the goal.

Removed half of the heart.

24. 4. I know that I’m doing the right thing. I don’t feel guilty over the termination of a faulty subject. If anything, I feel – relieved? That I was the one the subject latched onto. God forbid it was Temnova in my place. It’d have been terminated long before now had that been the case.

My assistant is acting strangely. Considering giving him a raise. Removed half of the brain. The lung is still growing. 2 more days until it's finished, at most.

25. 4. Busy day. Removed ½ of the lung, ¼ of brain and heart.

26. 4. Dr. Ostrov still hasn’t come into work. That reminds me I forgot to request time off. Not to mention that I’ve been sleeping here since the 20th, so almost a week. Not good for my back! I should go home soon, but we’re understaffed these days… I’ll take a week off after the experiment ends. That should be fine. Shows that going days without sleep + sleeping in a chair + ‘overworking’ myself have consequences on my human body + won’t have to worry about when to take a break from now on.

27. 4. That man won’t be getting a raise as he is a spineless coward that quit when we’re understaffed! Not just the experiment, but the job completely, leaving me alone in this. Like I’ve said many times I can handle it, but it’s unprofessional.

I’ll have to request another assistant now, but there’s no telling when they’ll come here/who they’ll be. Hate this. Hate him. Not even a month and it’s all falling apart. Even RT465 deserves a better termination than this! I shouldn’t have gotten Ms Schuhart off the project. Can’t ask her to come back now, though. 

Won’t remove anything today. I won’t be able to write down detailed entries for the next few days for obvious reasons.

28. 4. Busy day. Removed ¾ of the heart.

29. 4. Busy day.

30. 4. Busy day. Still can’t believe my ‘assistant’ quit. Spineless. Coward. Removed ¼ of the heart (half of the heart is intact), ½ of the brain, and ¼ of both lungs.

1.5. Busy day. The replacement should have been here today, but she’s not. Should have time tomorrow. It’s been almost a month since this experiment began. I was supposed to have a ‘break in may’, but I’m not complaining. I’m happy to have an opportunity to study the subject on my own without outside interference. I’m only upset with that ‘assistant’ for leaving me. No regard for anybody but himself. 

2. 5. Busy day. The replacement is still not here. Not removing anything today.

22:30 The replacement was here for an hour before leaving. I reprimanded her and insinuated that if she resigns from the experiment I will do everything in my power to fire her from the institute – which isn’t within my power, but she doesn’t know that. We removed ½ of the brain, ¼ of the brain, and I will, on my own, remove the subject’s right kidney.

3. 5. Happy to report my new assistant came in on time today, and that at least one person other than me knows how to do her job. She’s not rude like the last one either. This one should get a raise. Can’t lose her – can’t scare her away, either. Cut the subject’s hair today.

4. 5. Busy day. It’s been a month since the start of the experiment. The subject isn’t struggling as much anymore. Despite it all, I’m happy with its development. This milestone, a month, is the most crucial one; I can be stricter now! It’s survived this long, why not take out both of its lungs? Both kidneys, its liver?

Thank you, RT465. Back to work now.

5. 5. Busy day. Removed ¼ of both the heart and the brain, the right kidney, and ½ of the left kidney. My back hurts… Should sleep in a bed soon.

6. 5. Busy day. My request to give my assistant a raise for this experiment was approved.

7. 5. I’m glad this is the assistant that I received. She doesn’t speak wastefully, does what she’s told, and hasn’t complained about the conditions we’ve been given. I couldn’t have received a better one. After this experiment is over, I must express my gratitude. Maybe I could argue for a permanent raise for her? It’s not my department, but I can at least put in a good word for her.

Can’t forget to give her a break!! She can’t burn out. Next weekend, maybe, today is Sunday and she’s only been here a few days– god, no. She shouldn’t need a break – this is her job. She’ll get a day off when she asks for it. 

8. 5. Busy day. So many of those these days. It’s better than no work, though. Removed ½ of heart + brain + liver.

9. 5. Learned that my assistant has every Friday off. Do I have an ‘every (x day) off’? I’ll have to check. Nothing else has happened today. My assistant doesn’t look too disturbed? Which is good. I hope I don’t come across as … ungrateful? Belittling? Words are beyond me right now. She’ll be here for a few hours, so I’ll take a nap.

10. 5.  Busy day. I don’t like the look of things.

11. 5. Busy day. Removed the heart fully + ¼ of the brain.

12. 5. Busy day. The red clump has come back. It’s not that ugly, really, if you look at it from another angle.

13. 5. Busy day. My assistant is gone today. Won’t remove anything for her sake + the heart isn’t fully regrown. Things are looking worse.

14. 5. My fears that the experiment will be cut short aren’t unfounded anymore. The funding for this has been halved – as a penalty for so many people resigning, I guess. 

If I have to work unpaid for this to continue, so be it, but my assistant surely wouldn’t do the same. This means nothing to her, but to me– I have to find a way around this. Even if she agreed to work without pay, the expenses of the experiment, the anesthetic we use to keep the subject unconscious– we’d run out of resources eventually. 

This can’t end so soon. I was given no warning, how was I supposed to know? I never ask for anything, only this, for this experiment, and they cut it off! They’re trying to get me to resign from the experiment, I’m sure of it. Why? I’m only doing what needs to be done. I gave her a purpose! RT465 would be nothing if not for this experiment. She’d thank me if she could speak right now.

I gave this place my whole life. That couldn’t have been a mistake. I can still turn this around, I just need time. Can’t waste it writing nonsense – back to work. + Removed ¾ of the heart and brain, the liver and the right kidney.

15. 5. Busy day. I’m gathering the results of this experiment up in a ‘neat pile’ to present to my superiors. If they see what’s come of this, they’ll let it continue. They’ll see that this isn’t for nothing.

16. 5. Busy day. There’s going to be a lot of those from now on. I’m going to sleep here full time from now on, too. I have to give this everything I’ve got. Removed the brain fully.

17. 5. Busy day.

18. 5. Busy day. Removed the liver.

18. 5. Busy day. I hope I don’t have to take my assistant’s raise away. She really does deserve it. If only she had been here with me from the start… Removed ½ of the heart. RT465 is struggling, but it’ll have to manage if it wants to be of any help.

19. 5. Busy day. My assistant’s day off is tomorrow.

20. 5. My superiors are arguing that all that I’ve learned from this experiment could have been deduced from previous experiments; They don’t know shit. They’re not here. They haven’t seen that red clump in RT465’s chest, the cluster of fat, water, salts, and carbohydrates in its skull – they haven’t even looked at the photos I took for them! “Could have been deduced from previous experiments,” They’re not the ones getting their hands dirty. They haven’t stepped foot in this room, haven’t slept in it, haven’t done anything other than whine about the budget. They should be ashamed to call themselves employees of the institute. “Could have been deduced,” but we never would have known for certain. I’m doing us a favor.

Removed the brain and ¾ of the heart.

21. 5. Busy day. The assistant isn’t here today.

22. 5. My assistant is back, but it’s still a busy day. I’m tired. I've been sleeping only 3 hours a day at most, and only 20 minutes at one time. I’m looking forward to my week off after the experiment ends.

23. 5. Busy day. Removed the brain, ½ of the heart, the left lung, and ½ of the right lung. 24. 5. Busy day. I have to take away my assistant’s raise… I can tell she disapproves, as she’s been slacking off today. It’s fine as long as she doesn’t quit.

25. 5. Busy day.

26. 5. Busy day. My assistant’s day off is tomorrow. She was missing today, too. Didn’t even call in. Terrible work ethic. She’s just like my previous assistant, leaving me in my time of need, abandoning the institute… Can’t write more, work calls. Removed the heart. 27. 5. I’m not getting more funding. I’d have gotten it already were my superiors planning to listen to reason… but here I am, with a subject that refuses to die, with no way to kill it.

I should have known it’d end up like this. Like a fool, I was hoping for this experiment to last at least 4 months, but I took things too slow. Took too much time with things. Work comes first, pleasure second. I was stupid to mix the two…

When was the last time I enjoyed something? It’d be– Ostrov is nice, but he’ll leave eventually. He’ll realize our morals don’t align, and like the good man he is, he’ll leave me for somebody that’s better fit for him. Or I’ll take him down with me. Either way, we won’t last… I like game nights with Viktor, too, I suppose. Even if he is an insufferable winner. I enjoy these experiments too, but outside of work, what else? Is that all my life is? Two relationships that won’t last and work? 

There must be something else. I must be missing something. This can’t be all that my life is.

Removed the brain.

28. 5. My assistant isn’t here again, but at least she called in to tell me she’s resigning from the experiment. I don’t know what I expected. At least now any doubt that this experiment is over has vanished. I don’t know how I should feel. Angry? Sad? Guilty? Relief, maybe? I don’t know. I put so much into this, only for it to come crashing down. Not even two months, and yet… There’s no reason to write these entries now. I started this journal because I wanted to keep track of Dr. Ostrov’s and Ms Schuhart’s reactions, for future reference, but now that I’m the only one here, there’s no reason to hide my apathy. Not like I was doing a good job at that, anyway.

I don’t know what I’ll do now. I can squeeze out another week from this experiment, but what would be the point? RT465 is – nothing. She can’t give me anything she hasn’t already. The only thing that I could do now is–

One last attempt. If she survives this, I’ll definitely get more funding for the experiment. If she doesn’t, then she’ll be successfully terminated, and I’ll have done my job right. It’ll be over either way. The point of this whole thing was to push her limits, anyway, so it’s not like I’m acting out of order. 

If I get more funding, I’ll continue writing here. If I don’t – I’ll never look at this journal again. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll survive this. Even if it takes her a week, a month, a year to grow back together, I know she will. Whether my superiors allow her to survive is out of my hands. I’ve done nothing wrong.

Removed all of RT465’s organs.

#gabriela kozlova #nastyart #oc art #original character #fanfic #writing #original writing #pafl oc #AHHH IM SO HAPPY TO FINALLY SHARE THIS!!! i hope u guys like it :3

[bonesrbleaching]

had the most braindead repetitive conversation/argument with my parents. buzz cuts are too masculine but if you dye a design on it it become effeminate which is bad because then you look weak and if youre weak then society falls apart (all societies ever that have fallen apart for any reason are actually because of feminine men) and we start sacrificing babies. and also all mental illness is invented because only 4 people had anxiety in the 90s and covid was made up so that we would all become gay and trans and then the government can control us better and be joe biden's little sex slaves. and also i need to keep my hair long because my father finds it attractive. what

#lolaa.txt #what do i even tag this with . my mother wouldn't let me leave and i kept asking for sources and she kept saying 'i'm your mother!!!' #'i wouldnt lie to you!' #okay. say that to someone maybe who doesnt know you lie to them all the time. #its tiring going around in circles with her.my father is better because at least he admits when he doesnt have a reason for feeling some wa #also what got me. she said 'do you own research if you want!! but im right!!!' #yeahh not seeing anything about anything you just said. i think you made that up. #i have a theory that my mother secretly hates herself because she believes all women are weak and must serve strong men #and my father has so so much trauma and anxiety that he cant be that strong man #so now she feels like shes betraying her very biology when she has to step up. #and also because i am stronger than her now and my hair is long and far far denser than hers and i have a younger face #that she feels that im wasting my precious femininity that she could be using. does that make sense. #shes so miserable trapped in her idea of what makes a man and a woman what they are. once you stop caring about what makes someone somethin #you dont have to worry about anyone else. #im queer because i dont really feel that connection to biological and social ideas of gender that my parents seem to #never really have #im not gonna theorize 'ohh shed be happier nonbinary' or stuff like that because it is up to you and you alone to define who you are #if you spend your whole life trying to fit a box for the sake of fitting the box #then when would you have any space for self discovery #youve invented personality traits to go along with your box. now you can never ever change or grow as a person. congrats #and you know what? one day she will die. and that will be the end of that. #and i will live and i will probably shave my head a thousand times. and come up with new names #and new ways to be a better person that makes me feel happy #and i will dress like a boy because its all made up anyways. who cares. #and if you care? that much about what im wearing or how i look? #then thats your problem and i wont be responsible to maintain your happiness. #SORRY RANT OVER. #im just so flabbergasted. what a sad life someone can lead poisoned by jealously and reactive rhetoric. #tw homophobia #tw transphobes

[airbrushfather]

today in danny's deed poll adventures. i am fairly confident with making the thing and i even (begrudgingly as FUCK) have sourced some legit enough paper to print it on. but now i am realising. what the fuck is my name.

#the thing is i've had my name for 5 years #and another babytrans name for 2 before that #so i know it's not my birth name #but i also have at least two surnames #and a middle initial that i use for creative professional ventures but it's not attached to a name #and i have so many names i've gone by in various circles and they all feel like a part of me #but i don't really think some of them fit the flow of my name #like my first name and my surname do not flow or fit very well with almost all of my other more ambiguous names in the middle #and i know i could leave it but that seems like a) a waste and b) a shame #plus bitches with no middle name are boring i need a little secret a little flavour #and my middle name by birth is fucking horrendous so i feel i need to amend that

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#i was supposed to spend the last 2 days prepping and relaxing for the start of this big project tomorrow #but ive spent thr last 2 days frantically coding as fast as i could and focusing v hard to get a lot of bullshit done #and ive fixed things since yesterday. the changes i had to make were too too bad bc the thing that went wrong was so fucking weird #but it should be okay by tomorrow. knock on wood. but this does mean ive done fuck all to prep for tomorrow #so we r winging it bby. ugh. just gotta fucking pray that everything goes ok. pls let nothing b broken and let everything seal properly 🙏 #i was also supposed to meet with my boss today. probably for her to make sure i dont fuck up this project but apparently their safety hood #was having an emergency... whatever that means. so im sure shes having a week as well. and im free to fuck everything up for everyone #ugh. im so. theres a certain point in burning out where youre not really in pain anymore. you dont really feel anything all your joy and #hope dissolves away and u just exist to be useful. and i feel like its easier to maintain that than trying to b happy #i do not advise that bc its a fucking miserable. wasteful way to live but i dont really have time to try for anything better #god. i really hope my measurements friday dont take a full 8hrs. i dont know if i can handle that. literally i would have stay intensely #focused with my brain being Interrupted every 5min so i can manually record data points. its gonna b agony #so that fun. but maybe it wont. maybe itll be great and fun and ill have a wonderful time. seems unlikely but ya never kno #lets not think abt the fact that having to rush all this is preventing me from being able to do all thr other bullshit i need to get done #to prepare for the future. future? what future? hard to imagine from the bottom of this pit im digging myself #sigh. in a few months i can leave this place and never come back. soon but not soon enough #lol i was literally crying listening to cold play earlier bc idk thats the type of music my parents would put on at parties in summertime #so it evokes a v specific mood. which is i guess me hiding away from ppl at parties haha #back when i didnt have to worry abt things so much and i could just listen to the frogs chirping and watch the fireflies #oh god. now my boss is asking if i reached out for help tomorrow. no. lady i would rather drink bleach than have to direct an undergrad #tomorrow. its 10pm im fucking tired. just let me be sad. did i reach our for help? no my brain is on fire #tomorrow is gonna b a long day ugh #unrelated

[lovecrazedpup]

hmmm

#feeling ? insecure …. #i dont want him to waste his time waiting for me :( its just . unfair . idk #like Yeah hes said hes waited longer before but like . i dunno #i feel like im not good enough :/ i dunno shit abt his ex but #they seemed compatible and i feel like he would go back in time to make it work ? #eeeeeugh i dont even know dude :^) i am not a good person #hes a good person so he also deserves someone good #i think it would be better for him if he invested his time n love n kindness into someone better #i love him so itd hurt but i want him happy more than anything #like i cant ask ‘so how serious is this’ bc idk im young so he would just brush it off as me being naive #MAYBE if i was better ?? in every way ?? ever ???? id have a chance against these imaginery people in my head ? #i fr think im going insane like maybe i should kms 😐 #tbh my ex that like . kinda abused me sorta was better than this just bc i could understand his feelings #GOD fuck u for always deciding to go to bed earlier when im having these crises and crying and shit bc youre leaving me #DO I LEAVE FIRST ??? #is it better to just block n move on w/ my life orrrrrr #ALSO #am i being used as ?? just someone to get off with/to ? #bc like im . pretty fucking manipulatable and shit . like …. #do u think its possible im overthinking enough to make him seem like a bad person so that therefore its mentally easier for me to leave #i think he basically confirmed to me that 1) he would leave me if someone better came around #and 2) he is bored and therefore messing w/ me and lying #ur so dumb for trying to fool me into believing that u want me to be happy #i fr see through ur act like . its kinda ? pathetic ? really ? #go make someone else attached and ruin their emotions . find someone else thats as easy to manipulate as i am #just leave me alone #jamie.txt

[slytherinslut0]

jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons

author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.

-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.

Draco Malfoy.

Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.

“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”

Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.

Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.

His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.

He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.

“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”

He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.

Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.

“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”

He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.

“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”

Blaise Zabini.

Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.

When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.

This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.

He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.

You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.

After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.

“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.

Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.

Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.

His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.

You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.

He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.

“Who was that guy, darling?”

You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.

“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”

He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”

You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”

Mattheo Riddle.

“Who the fuck-“

Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.

You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.

You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.

Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.

You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,

“Is this fucker bothering you?”

Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.

“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“

He’d heard more than enough.

“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”

Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:

“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”

Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.

And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.

When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”

You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.

Theodore Nott.

He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.

Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-

Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.

Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.

Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.

His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.

He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.

“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”

As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.

Tom Riddle.

“AVADA KEDA-“

Lowkey kidding but not really.

No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.

#harry potter #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #tom riddle smut #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheosmut #mattheoriddle #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle #severus snape #tomriddle smut #tomriddle x reader #tomriddlesmut #blaise zabini #blaisezabini #theoriddlesmut #theodorenottsmut #theodore smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theoriddle #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #theodorenott #theo riddle #dracomalfoy #draco smut

[chuluoyi]

✎ curiosity

- gojo satoru x reader

when gojo is found out by his own son during your nighttime activities

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! crack, fluff, dad!gojo

note: based on a fun suggestion by anon! and it’s been sooo long in my drafts🤧 anyways gojo in phantom parade game is so otome-coded, look at his innocent face!—that's how he's going to be while explaining this to his son

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"Nghh—Satoru... ah!" you mewled, breathless, right after the third time he made you cum on his fingers alone.

Gods, even with one kid already running around, Satoru never stopped acting like he desired you like when you were still newlyweds. The glint in his eyes never dulled—always smirking at you as if you were the prey, as he licked his fingers with a wicked smile.

"Ah, sweets, are you ready to take me in now?" he cooed in your ear. Really, he was at his limit, seeing how he brought pleasure to you as you writhed under him made him this close to becoming undone too.

With your nod of approval, he wasted no time. He gripped your hips, and swiftly slid his thick cock between your folds. As he sank into you—making himself fit, you accidentally let out a loud moan.

“So pretty,” Satoru groaned through clenched teeth, marveling at your scrunched face, feeling how your legs wrapped around his waist in compliance. “Still so tight for me...”

And the way you squeezed your eyes shut right before he started to pound into you made him finally lose it, as he hotly grunted in that raw, almost feral voice—

“All mine.”

With each thrust, you quite literally squealed. Seems like you were sensitive at this time of the month, because your senses were heightened and you couldn't help the nasty moans leaving your lips. The sensation of him repeatedly slamming his hips against you turned you into a crying mess, and had you totally forgetting that your toddler was sleeping just next door.

And when his climax exploded within you with one last powerful thrust, his hot cum spurting hard, stuffing you to the brim and painting your womb white— you clawed at him, tugged him closer to your breasts as a mix of scream and moan of his name escaped your lips, trembling at the depth to which he was burying himself inside you.

You were panting, totally spent, sensing the familiar way of his cum trickling down your thighs. And at that moment, you could have sworn you heard the patter of footsteps nearby. Before you could fully register it, Satoru hastily pulled the blanket to cover you both.

Suddenly, your bedroom's door swung open, revealing your precious boy standing there, visibly sleepy but worried. "Mama?"

You muttered your son's name weakly, disoriented, and it only served to worry him further. His little eyes widened, and he took a step—

"No, no, kiddo!" Satoru urged in a panic. "Stay there! Don't move!"

His son eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing? Why are you crushing mama?"

"I—" Satoru collected himself, and put on the most innocent smile. "I'm... helping mama to sleep, you see."

You went pale, now that you realized the situation you were in. Your son had just seen you and your husband in the middle of the act. You were silently grateful for Satoru's quick thinking for covering both of you to spare your son from the indecency.

"Helping?" your son gaped in disbelief. "But she was just crying!"

"Yeah, she cried because she couldn't sleep," Satoru blurted, still smiling benevolently like he hadn't nothing wrong. You felt the urge to facepalm at his terrible excuse and the irony of the situation—how close he was to collapsing beside you, and that he hadn't even pulled out of you yet.

Your intelligent boy wasn't easily convinced, that was what you would expect of him.

"How's you hovering over her will help her sleep?"

“With this position, she'll sleep more comfortably, you know,” he asserted confidently, prompting a subtle twitch in your eye. He turned to you, a stupid grin on his face. “And who knows, it might also help to make your sibling. Isn’t it true, dear?”

Satoru nudged your side, willing you to agree with him. You were in utter shock and shot him a dark glare, before looking at your distraught son in a flurry. “Y-yeah… I’m fine, baby. Go back to your room now.”

“You're not hurting, Mama?” the little boy asked you worriedly. Thank heavens he was more focused on you rather than Satoru's little comment.

“No. Your papa is just… trying to help. I’m okay, yeah?”

“If you say so…” your son pouted reluctantly. He shifted his gaze on his father and 'hmph'-ed in accusation. “You’re weird.”

"Hey!" Satoru exclaimed, comically offended. "What are you doing here, anyway? Can't you sleep?"

“I heard noises... and now I want to go to the bathroom…”

Your husband grunted. "Fine, I'll come with you. Just wait a moment and close the door, please?"

Your son threw one last concerned glance at you before shutting the door. Both of you let out collective sighs of relief.

“I swear, he’s such a brat. He used to be so lovable too,” Satoru grumbled under his breath, finally slipping out of you and rolled to your side. He playfully tapped your lower belly and winked. “I hope it’s a daughter next. She will surely be daddy's girl.”

Your body was still shivering as a result of your high earlier, and yet you still managed to side-eye him, hissing, “I'm going to kill you, Gojo Satoru.”

“Wha—”

“Sleep more comfortably? A sibling?”

“Well, can’t we just say that we’re going to give him—”

“Satoru, don’t you put more weird ideas in our son’s head.”

“But—!”

“The moment you do, and if I catch you, I swear to God, I'm banishing you from our bed.”

Epilogue

“Uncle Nanami… does sleeping in certain position will give me a sibling?”

Nanami almost choked on his own words. “What?”

On this rather fine day, he had agreed to help you keep an eye on your child, as both you and Satoru went on separate missions.

He might not be able to stand his senior, but Nanami couldn’t deny that he had a soft spot for the toddler even if he was a carbon copy of his father, as the boy was sweet and overall more like you in nature.

Your son blinked at him curiously. “Papa said not to tell this to mama, but when I asked, he was actually trying to give me a brother or sister to play with when he squished mama on the bed the other day.”

Nanami felt a vein about to burst at the very implication. In hindsight, he shouldn’t be surprised at Gojo Satoru’s unrefined parenting skills but then again, anything that annoying clown did always managed to surprise him one way or another. He let out a long sigh.

“Kid, forget what your father said.”

“Huh? Is that not true then?”

“Report this to your mother, yeah? Ask her too, she will have better answers for you.”

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo x you #gojo satoru imagines #dad!gojo #satoru gojo fluff #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jutusu kaisen x reader #18+ only

[teaboot]

This is gonna sound rather conceited but I feel like it highlights an issue we have in Art.

I'm good at art. I've never had a hard time making art. I started using crayons before I could walk. Painting, Beadwork, sculpture, sketching, stippling, whatever- once I have a feel for the material, it doesn't take long to start doing what I want with it. It's been a common theme my whole life.

(Y contrast I'm awful at things like dancing, performance, sports, etc- in all things there is balance, right?)

Now, I've taught myself to use so many artistic mediums now that I KNOW how to most efficiently integrate them into the brain database. Once you really *understand* a material, it's much like memorizing the layout of your house, or flexing a muscle, or something in-between- it becomes PART of your brain in a way I cant quite articulate. But to get there involves just fucking around for a bit doing nothing in particular.

And I've found, especially in group settings, that nobody seems to be able to see you make something badly and leave you alone. Even if you say you're fine, you don't want help, you're happy, you're having fun, it's fine, they gotta ride your ass and hover.

I was at a class the other day for something I hadn't done before. The medium was one I've never used, so once the instructor told us the basics I started experimenting with weight, gravity, texture, viscosity, saturation, temperature, etc. The instructor had given enough info to know what was dangerous and what was safe, and beyond that I just wanted to absorb what I could about it.

And no insult to the instructor, but they kept checking in. Which was fine the first few times.

But then, without asking me what I was trying to do, started giving tips. That I told them I was grateful for but didn't really need just yet. If I had a question, I'd ask.

But they kept coming over. And touching my shit. And manipulating my project. And touching my hands. And using my tools. Without fucking asking.

And this happens every time. EVERY TIME. And by now I know the best way to get them to fuck off is to make something way beyond their expectations so they know I'm capable, then go back to doing what I want.

So I did. I wanted to keep having fun and learning, but instead I made something beautiful that I really didn't want to make, and wasted my time, and really didn't learn what I wanted to learn at all. I knew the formula to create a beautiful thing, so I followed that formula the same way I have a hundred times before, and didn't get to try anything spontaneous or ugly or exciting, just so I could be left alone.

And I know when I was a kid, I was aware aware people saw me puttering alone on something ugly assumed I had a special issue and treated me like I was stupid because of that. (I was neurodivergent.) And at at time I knew that I could do a neat trick for them like a trained pony and they'd go, "Oh, surely they aren't defective if they can do something like that!" And piss off.

But what if I hadn't known how to do that?

What if I hadn't been talented, or "special"?

What if I'd been just any other average kid trying to learn, and I couldn't pop something pretty out of my ass to get them off my back?

My problem my whole life has been that I haven't been allowed to make anything ugly in peace. I'm capable of beauty, so I have to make beauty, or get stepped on. And once people see what I can do, they get loud about it. "Look at this! Look what they did! We all know who the best is, don't we?". And that used to feel good, but it's tiring.

And how many people like me just wanted to play? Just wanted to have fun and experiment? Who were having fun with no goal in mind, or just took longer to learn, who gave up because of all the obnoxious helpers breathing down their neck with no way to shake them off?

How many of us are made to feel defective because we aren't doing things beautifully?

I have a lovely piece of art I didn't want to make.

I think I'm gonna frame it.*

(*I think I'm gonna burn it in my yard.)

[swordsandholly]

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #call of duty #cod x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #ghost x reader #plus size reader #fat reader #reader insert #simon riley x you #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #smut #cod smut #reader insert smut #one shot #Ghost with OCD is my roman empire #he’s so much more well adjusted than I usually write him but it was fun #holly writes

[bananami]

A little couple's trivia with Nanami proves that he knows you all too well.

I did use the term wife and she/her pronouns just as a brief cw. The whole thing is just fluff. Nanami is in love with you. That's the whole things.

(I am delulu and in love with this man. Hope this helps us all heal. He is alive and well and no one can convince me otherwise. Also I love including Gojo's dumbass in everything. Also Yuji is a sweetheart and Nanami's son basically.)

"Please?" You're practically begging your husband, who doesn't seem to be budging.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Yeah Nanamin-"

"Don't call me that." Nanami cuts Gojo off immediately.

"But Yuji calls you that!"

"That's different." He glares at the white haired man like he's trying to eviscerate him with just his eyes. "And I'm not playing some stupid game just to prove how well I know my wife." He tries to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him again, wanting to finish it before 5pm. Because there was no way he was working overtime again today.

"Scared?" Gojo baited him. "Afraid I'm gonna ask you a question that's just too hard?"

"Gojo, there is nothing you could ask me about my wife that I wouldn't be able to answer."

A few of the students sat around watching the two go back and forth, inevitably waiting for Nanami to either get so annoyed that he walked away, or to take the bait. They hoped for the latter.

"Prove it! Or you forfeit your marriage."

"That's not how that works."

"C'mon Nanamin, it's just a game." Yuji gives the blonde sorcerer a sincere smile, hoping to lighten the mood and sway his decision just a bit.

"Don't call him Nanamin, Yuji- OW." Gojo is cut off as Nanami reaches over and smacks him in the head with the papers in his hand.

"Don't tell him what to do." Nanami sighs and rubs at his temple. He looks at the clock, then at you. It's the look in your eyes that gives way to his final decision. "Fine. You have until that clock reads 5, and then I'm taking my wife and we're going home."

Gojo wastes no time. "Who is your wife's favorite person? And think before you say yourself because-"

"Itadori. Next question."

"I'm your favorite person?!" Yuji jumps from his seat, latching his arms around you for a hug. It's obvious from the way that you smile and hug him back that Nanami is probably definitely right. You had a soft spot for the kid since you met him, playfully telling everyone that you and Nanami had basically adopted him since he arrived at Jujutsu High. Nanami would probably never verbalize it, but you could tell he felt the same about the boy.

"Ok, ok. Next question." Gojo thought hard before coming up with it. "How does your wife take her coffee?"

"She doesn't drink coffee."

"Yes she does, I bring her some like every morning."

"And she gives that coffee to me because she doesn't like it."

"You're telling me I've been buying you coffee this entire time?"

"I make her tea every morning when we get to work. You hand her the coffee, we trade cups. I don't understand how you've stared right at us when we do it and you somehow haven't noticed."

"Ok, then what tea does she drink?"

"Earl Grey, three sugars, a little bit of milk at the top. She'll say she's ok with English Breakfast or Lady Earl Grey if they're out of the regular. She's not, she's just being polite. She'll drink half and throw it away when she thinks no one is looking."

Gojo groans, not having as much fun as he thought he was going to at the beginning of all of this. "And I just bet you have a contingency plan for when your wife doesn't get her tea, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he ignores the even louder groan from Gojo, "I walk across the street to the cafe that sells her favorite pastries and I buy her five because I know that she'll want to share with her students and she'll try to split one with me even if I refuse. They have teabags they leave out so long as you're ordering something. Earl Grey, always in stock."

"Adorable." Gojo rolls his eyes.

"You're so smart, Nanamin!" Yuji jumps in. "Let me ask one! What's her favorite color?"

"Yuji, that's too easy."

"Yellow."

"Ohhhh, mine too," Yuji says, "why yellow?"

"Because it's-" Nanami stops mid-sentence and looks at the clock, like it will give him an excuse. Almost. "We don't need to worry about the why, that wasn't the original question."

Gojo perks up, clearly realizing he'd struck a nerve. And he was ready to work it. The red dusting across Nanami's cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "Are you embarrassed, Nanami?"

"Shut up, Gojo."

"Or do you just not know the answer? It's ok if you don't, I guess you just don't know your wife as well as you thought you did."

"If you don't stop talking, I'm going to tell everyone about the one time in high school when you and Geto got caught in the-"

"OK!" Gojo turns back to the students and motions them toward the door. "Time to go! Don't you all have something better to do? Go be little trouble makers somewhere. Go TP Yaga's lawn or something. Get out of here."

He'd ushered everyone out except Yuji, who stayed behind to wait for you and Nanami. The boy shyly looked away as you kissed Nanami's cheek before standing up, stating you just needed to grab your bag before you could leave.

Yuji waited for you to exit the room before he asked. "Is it because of your hair?"

Nanami sighs. "What makes you think that?"

Yuji just shrugs. "She loves you. Answers don't always need a complex reason."

Nanami can't help the smile that graces his face. "You're a smart kid sometimes, you know that?"

"That's why I'm her favorite!" His goofy nature is back in an instant. "Can I come over for dinner again tonight?"

"Of course you can."

"Can I stay over?"

"If you'd like to."

"Can I pick the movie we watch?"

"Don't push your luck."

#jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami x y/n #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami x you #kento nanami #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #papamin

[intoxicated-chan]

angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader

and then they make up yayayayay

Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.

“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”

He nods.

“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

He nods again.

“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”

“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”

“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.

“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”

He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…

“But Mig-”

“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”

He didn’t mean it like that.

“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.

“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.

You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.

You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.

The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.

How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?

This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.

And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.

You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.

You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.

“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.

“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.

“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.

“Yeah.” You huff.

“And… how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.

You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”

“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”

Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?

“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”

“Talk about romantic.”

“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”

“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”

“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.

“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”

“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.

“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”

“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.

You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”

“Bed.”

“(Y/n)-”

“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”

“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.

“You heard me.”

“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.

“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”

“(Y/n)-”

“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”

“I know.”

“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”

You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.

“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”

He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.

“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”

“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.

“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”

“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.

“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”

You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.

#x reader #x female reader #fluff #angst #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spider man x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x y/n #spider man across the spider verse #spider man 2099 #spiderverse #spider man x y/n #spider man x you #spiderman x reader