#don’t tell me you’ve never thought about this

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil.

I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.

First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.

So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…

Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)

Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.

Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.

(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)

I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.

But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.

I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.

But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.

I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.

It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.

I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.

My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”

But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.

In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.

Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”

As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.

I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…

The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.

So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.

People always say “it’s never too late.”

One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”

I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”

It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.

Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”

But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.

Whew.

So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.

And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.

Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.

Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 11)

first chapter >> last chapter

-

Your heart could very well have stopped beating and you’d be none the wiser.

By now, you’ve experienced fear in all its varietals. The stomach churning and the latent, the languid; the swift moving silverfish slipping out of your grasp. The monstrous rising beast of it the day you turned around to find the master of the house turning the lock on the door and trapping you in with him. Then the delayed panic in the aftermath of bringing the bust down over his head and hearing his skull crack under its weight, the blood pooling around his body, almost aureole-like. Pondering the miraculous like, well, isn’t that just the devil of it. A halo for a man intent on your ruin.

 The fear washing over you now is entirely new though. Like a rapid exhalation. Of course you were right all along . Right to expect the devil showing up on your doorstep. The weeks of silence had imbued you with a sense of confidence. An arrogant, undeserved confidence that whispered in your ear to let your guard down. 

But you know now that the world is not large enough to hide in. It is a wasteland of false prophets and false directions. There are no second chances.

The only consolation is the silence from the man behind the counter as he studies the warrant. You imagine him standing there giving it a good once over, his face maybe scrunching up as it calls to mind the woman that just walked through his door. You wonder if they thought to add a sketch of your likeness, whether there’ll be a woman on the warrant that looks an awful lot like you. 

You stay put behind the shelf though, not risking so much as a peep. 

“Any information you might have would be much obliged,” Graves says, trying to coax an answer out.

After a few more seconds, the shop attendant answers with a rueful, “Can’t say I have, sir. You want me to leave this with the sheriff?”

Graves breathes out through his nose in frustration. “Now, are you positive about that? Take a closer look—I don’t mind waitin’ a bit longer for you to sift through your memories. I’m sure a town as big as this must get passersby from time to time.”

“No. I’m sorry, sir, but I’m certain. Never seen a woman fitting this description or name. Couldn’t even tell you the last time we had a stranger come through town and stay longer than a day.”

“I see.” It’s hard to tell whether Graves takes him at his word or not. The aura of menace that the man exudes suggests that anything said to him might rouse his suspicions. That they’ve already been roused, in fact. It makes even you second guess the man behind the counter, wondering if perhaps he knows and simply stays his tongue. 

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help. Still want me to pass this along to the sheriff?”

The floorboards creak under his feet when Graves takes a step back. “If you don’t mind. Been having the darndest time tryin’ to track down the man and, frankly, I’ve got other obligations. I do appreciate your time though.”

You stay hidden behind the shelf, listening to the sound of the spurs on his boots rattling as he leaves. The chime on the door jingles when it slams shut. You flinch at the sound. For a minute after his departure, you wonder if the door will burst back open and he’ll come crashing in, heading straight for the back to haul you out by your hair.  

A minute passes and nothing happens. The floor beneath you still feels like it might give out at any moment.

When you take your first step, the nausea comes rushing up. 

“Mrs. Price,” the shop attendant says, perking up at the sight of you coming out from behind the shelf. “I forgot you were still here.”

You feel like an automaton or a ball-jointed doll, your movements stiff as you approach him. Morbidly curious as to what you’ll see on the warrant spread out on the counter separating the two of you. When you look down, your breath comes shuddering out. 

The sketch on the paper does bear a passing resemblance to you, but only if you squint. Nothing that anyone could point to and claim with certainty that it depicts you. Underneath the sketch, you balk when you see your real name. It’s jarring to even look at. Though you’ve gone most of your life answering to it, the past few weeks have disabused you of any connection to it. Now, you feel permeable, malleable—a substance that has been reshaped into something new. That girl on the warrant is gone now. Done and dusted. So detached from memory that even the sketch of her depicts someone else, proves false. 

Still, you’re shaken by how close he’d gotten. Supposing Graves had come in while you’d been within sight. Supposing he’d looked you in the eye and asked you directly, and you’d stuttered under his sharklike gaze and drawn further scrutiny. You almost can’t believe how close it’d grazed you. The sharp edge of fate like a blade now sheathed again. 

“Would you mind taking this to the sheriff?” he asks, not realizing the gift he’s given you. “I’m a bit tied up minding the shop.”

You nod wordlessly and take the folded up warrant from him.

It burns red hot in your hands when you step outside. You glance around nervously, unsure as to whether Graves had stuck around to question more people. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were still within earshot. 

You waver in the street with the folded piece of paper tucked in your hands. A horse pulling along a cart laden with firewood creaks as it passes, rousing you from the trance you’d fallen into. You flinch, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. It’s blinding suddenly. A clear sky, the clouds long since taken away by the wind. 

John could be anywhere at this time of day. Despite the fear curdling in your belly, you can’t help the knee jerk reaction to go to him. That’s precisely what you don’t want to do though. You don’t want to be around the county sheriff on the day a bounty hunter came into town looking for you. 

A crow sitting on the roof of a building across the street caws and flaps its wings, taking off into the sky. 

You want to be anywhere but in town waiting anxiously for John to come find you. You don’t want to lay eyes on him and see that he’s found you out. The thought of John finding out about the man you killed back east is beyond contemplation. It nearly has you keeling over in the middle of the street. You can hardly bear the thought. How could you bear to live a moment beyond that, withering under his disapproval? His contempt? 

You don’t think you can.

Every shadow fills you with dread. A barmaid comes out to toss a bucket of dirty water in the alley and you flinch like you’ve been caught. You keep your head down as you walk, eyes straight on the ground. Someone calls out your fake name and you ignore them. 

Your instinct, as usual, is to run. Abscond from the scene of the crime. Even if the thought hurts. Even though you’d let yourself begin to hope that the times of trouble had passed you by. That perhaps you could’ve made a home out here in the middle of nowhere. You should have known that those dreams were just that. You should have known better than to want. These days, it is dangerous to long for anything.

It’s better if you fade from memory like a bad dream, you think when you spot Buttercup fixed to the post outside the sheriff’s office. Better if they think of you with a bad taste in their mouth and nothing more. A girl that came and stole their sheriff’s heart and his horse and then vanished into the night. 

When one of her black eyes fixes on you, you still in your advance. A horse can’t possibly read your intentions, but you feel like she does somehow. Like she knows you intend to take her and flee. She shifts, hooves coming up and back down, and you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth suddenly, nerves taking on. You won’t let yourself be ruled by them though. There are bigger things to fear.  

“Come on, Buttercup,” you whisper, hesitating before smoothing your hand down her nose. You flinch when she nickers. “I just—I need you to help me, okay?”

It’s an outrageously bad idea. Even to you that’s obvious. You don’t have nearly enough experience riding solo or even with John trailing behind you on another horse to help offer correction if you falter on your own. You’re blinded by fear though, practically shaking as you undo Buttercup’s lead from the post outside the sheriff’s office. 

You’re clumsy trying to hoist yourself up onto her without John to boost you up and hold you steady. It takes a couple of tries before you manage to swing your leg over, and you curse under your breath when your dress bunches up around your waist, exposing the bare flesh of your legs. There aren’t many people roaming the street, fortunately for you.

Buttercup resists at first when you tug lightly on the reins to guide her away. She stomps her foot when you try again, giving a light whinny. Panic seizes you, a coil in your belly. You’ve only ever ridden her before with John at your side; you wonder if she’ll even listen to you in his absence or if even she can tell you’re about to do something foolish and wants nothing to do with it. 

“Please, girl,” you beg. “I promise—I’ll figure out some way to get you back.”

On the third attempt, she finally listens. The way she abruptly breaks into a fast trot nearly sends you toppling over. You catch yourself by clutching the horn, tight enough that your knuckles ache. Your forehead breaks out in a nervous sweat. Buttercup covers ground fast, and without John sitting behind you like a silent sentinel, you feel control slip out of your slippery hands, clammy with sweat too. 

“Whoa, girl,” you breathe, trying to calm her by stroking a hand down her neck. 

It does precious little to calm her down. You remember something John once said about animals smelling fear. They know it like your name. 

You lose control of her fast. Almost in the blink of an eye, you go from steering Buttercup towards John’s house to holding on for dear life. Your body rocks with hers and you’re forced to tighten your thighs around her midsection when she breaks into a gallop, your hands still clinging tight to the reins. Her hooves kick up dust and dirt in her haste, sending it flying behind you. 

“Slow down!” you shout, but the words are swept away by the wind, already behind you. 

Not once have you ever ridden a horse at this speed. Your direction seems like more of a suggestion to Buttercup, and not one she’s inclined to take. The town rapidly vanishes behind you, the vegetation sparse for the first few hundred yards, arid scrubland scorched by the sun and fed off of by the horses and mules coming in and out of town. The sun beats down hot on your head, no hat to shield you from the heat.

You can’t imagine you would’ve been able to hold it down though, you think wildly, mind still in a flurry of panic. It would’ve flown right off ages before. 

Your breath comes out in hitched pants as you clutch with all your might to the horn of the saddle, your hands soon transferring to her mane for better purchase. Buttercup moves like a rogue wave beneath you, like something sailors only speak about in hushed whispers. She takes a wide arc around John’s property, heading towards the mountains instead, and no amount of trying to steer her with your legs seems to work. 

Your head whips back to watch the house pass, the dark shape of it sailing past you, and it nearly causes you to lose your balance. Looking back in front of you only makes it worse. Panic courses through you when you stare ahead only for the world in front of you to spin. Bile creeps up your throat. You swallow it back, but only just.

The half-formulated plan you’d had in mind is long gone. All you can focus on now is remaining astride the horse beating dirt under you. Any thought of bringing her to a halt dissipates. Even the thought of escape evaporates into thin air. 

Only when you feel Buttercup slow to a trot do you peel open your eyes. The breath you let out as you look around is short, panic still churning in your guts.

Over the weeks since John married you and took you home, he’s taken you through the mountains a fair few times, familiarizing you with the land to the best of his abilities in such a short amount of time. But the wilderness stretches far and the terrain beyond John’s homestead is rough, treacherous. 

When you look around, you realize that you don’t recognize this part of the mountainside. 

The trail Buttercup takes you down is cut haphazard into the landscape—a crude, handmade path, not one seared into the ground from frequent travel. It feels distinctly wilder than where you’ve been before. Your head swivels around as you try to look for something that might jog your memory. The striated mountainside tells you nothing. The trees out this deep into the mountains are thicker and older, gnarled root systems bursting up from the earth and coiling around the nearby rocks like snakes winding around their prey. 

You sit up a bit straighter, still shaking when you rub your hand down Buttercup’s neck. “You know where we are, girl?”

She puffs out a breath.

That tells you nothing, but she keeps going down the same path deeper into the woods. No amount of squeezing your thighs or patting her neck gets her to stop. You should be thankful that she’s at least no longer sprinting, that you can actually sit up and catch your breath now, but the fear from earlier is but a paltry shadow compared to that which is brewing in you now. 

Every crick and snapping twig makes your head spin round. You stare intensely past the treeline, searching for the barest hint of motion. You don’t know much about these parts, but you know that this is no place for a woman by her lonesome. Even a man on his own out here might feel jumpy. This far out of the way, only cougars and bears take refuge, and the odd band of outlaws making camp for the night and taking advantage of the relative isolation this far out west. 

“Come on, girl, we can’t be out here,” you whisper, leaning closer to Buttercup to hopefully muffle your voice. Even as low as you speak, it still seems to echo.

You don’t know where you’re meant to go though. In the flurry of panic that had come over you at Graves’ arrival, you’d bolted without thought. Without a compass or map, you’re as good as lost in the unsettled land deep in the mountains. 

As that reality dawns on you, you realize that you haven’t had a drink of water in quite some time. 

An hour must pass with Buttercup stubbornly refusing to listen to your commands to turn back. Maybe longer. She resists even when you pull on the reins. In truth, you don’t blame her. Your commands come feeble, no strength behind them. The fear of being bucked off her back makes you soft. John would be gruff, unyielding—you can’t imagine him giving into fear.

That somehow upsets you even more. You can’t help but wish more than anything that he were here with you. 

The temperature drops as the sun begins to set. Without the sun beating down on you, you shiver in the cold air. There’s nothing to keep you warm other than the clothes on your back. Your lips smack when you part them, parched after hours without water. You haven’t stumbled across a river or stream in the hours since starting down this path.

Then, from behind you, you hear it. 

The name that isn’t yours. You don’t catch it at first until it comes again, louder this time. When you look over your shoulder and down the path behind you, John’s furious face stares back at you, his lips worked into a flat line. 

The way you gasp must spook Buttercup, because she abruptly breaks into a gallop, forcing you to hunker down and hold on. You want desperately to look back, torn between relief and distress, but you stare ahead instead. 

The black horse he rides gains on you fast, legs pumping beneath its massive body. It’s not a horse you’ve seen before. Maybe borrowed in his haste to chase after you. You don’t let yourself digest that thought though, too concerned with remaining astride. 

Despite its size, it collapses the distance between you two quickly, nearly on you now. Instinct has you leaning into Buttercup, trying to get as low as possible and let the air glide around you. Her gallop quickens into a sprint. You’re just holding on now, facing straight ahead, no chance of being more than a passenger on this trip. 

John shouts at you from your rear to bring Buttercup to a stop. You squeeze your lips together instead of shouting back that you can’t. If you open your mouth, you think your stomach will come straight out. 

Your body jostles around on top of your horse, on the verge of slipping off with every passing second. When she takes a turn too quickly down a trail leading up into the mountains and you slide a bit to one side on the saddle, only your foot in the stirrup catching you, your heart stops. Fear is ice inverted; poured over you. It drenches you in another layer of sweat that dries rapidly in the air whipping around you. 

Hot and cold. The ground seems to come towards you every time Buttercup’s legs kick up. Always on the verge of falling and breaking every bone in your body. You suck your tongue to the roof of your mouth so it doesn’t get caught between your clacking teeth and bitten right off. 

“Pull up on the reins!” John roars over the cacophony of stomping hooves. 

A glance to your right finds him close enough to graze with your fingertips. Your heart jumps in your chest.

“Pull up!” he shouts again, but all you can do is stare uncomprehendingly. 

You don’t know if he can see the terror in your eyes. It must be splayed clean across your face. He has to see the way his words mean nothing to you. Your panic effaces any meaning; all you hear is noise and anger pouring from his mouth, and trampled dirt and labored breath. 

When his horse pulls up alongside yours, he gets close enough to lean over and snatch the reins out of your hands. He pulls firm, tugging Buttercup’s head back until she almost rears up and you scream, hands fisting in her mane. 

Your body lurches forward when she comes back down, slumped over the saddle horn. It digs hard into your stomach. There’ll be a bruise there come morning, but nothing like the bruises that’ll bloom between your thighs. Even now the ache radiates down your body. You look up at the sound of John’s breath panting out like a bull, and he glares down at you with undisguised fury, the angriest you’ve ever seen him. 

“What in the blazes were you thinkin’?” he booms. Even the horse he sits astride shakes its head at the sound. “There’s nothing out here but outlaws and predators!”

The hand fisted in Buttercup’s reins pulls her closer, and he guides both horses into a slow trot and then to a stop. You can feel the way Buttercup’s ribs expand and contract under your legs. 

“Stop it— don’t touch me!” you snap when he reaches for you, smacking his hand away.

“Darlin’, if you get off that damned horse—” John warns, but you’re already swinging your leg over the saddle as the words come out of his mouth. 

You almost trip over the stirrup when you slide off Buttercup’s back and take off on foot. You fist the skirt of your dress in both hands to lift it as you run, letting it swish around you with the force of your strides. A curse and grunt come from back behind you. The sound of John’s boots hitting the dirt is loud, and when he chases after you, his boots pound into the earth.  

It’s a desperate last move, but all you can think is that you’d rather be anywhere else but in his arms. You’d rather take your chances with the wolves and bears in the woods, or with the bandits and brigands on the trails leading to the next town. 

You barely make it past the next tree before he barrels into you and takes you both to the ground, the world spinning as you fall down. He angles his body to take the brunt of the impact, but you still cry out when your hip hits the ground hard. The way he pulls you into his chest just barely keeps your head from slamming into a rock. 

“Goddamn it, woman,” John spits. “Where d’ya think you’re even going? There ain’t nowhere to run out here!”

Your head spins. When you open your mouth, all you can taste is rust and salt, sweat dripping off your upper lip. You can feel the heat of his chest against your back and he doesn’t give you a chance to gather your bearings before hauling you to your feet, tugging both of your arms behind your back. 

“Let me go!” you scream, trying to wrestle out of his hold to no avail. 

You know he doesn’t understand, but you can’t help the way you try to fight your way out of his hold. There’s no explanation that’ll make sense to him other than the truth, which you clamp tight in your chest. There's no telling if he already knows, if maybe Graves finally tracked him down or if someone else brought their suspicions to his attention, but you won't go spilling the truth yourself. 

He’s a solid mass behind you, breath labored from hours spent tracking you. You wonder if he noticed mere moments after you took Buttercup and left or whether he came back to the sheriff’s office only to find the two of you gone. 

John holds your wrists in one big hand at the small of your back and gives you a mean shake. “I don’t know what’s got you so riled up, but you better fix this attitude of yours and explain yourself before we get home or so help me God, I’ll take my belt to your ass.”

The mention of him belting your backside makes your hands go clammy, but you must have abandoned your common sense a mile back because your mouth keeps running. “I’ll gut you like a pig if you touch a hair on my head!” 

“We’ll just see about that,” he grunts, and you can hear the raw edged smirk in his voice and the anger behind it. 

When he leads you stumbling towards the horses waiting in the middle of the trail, you realize that capture had always been an inevitability in your mind. Maybe it even comes as a relief to know that the jig is up. 

You just hadn’t realized that it would be someone else hauling you back by your hair.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price x you #price x reader #john price x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo falls ill and reader does finishes his missions and her own missions as well do Gojo doesn't have a pile of work waiting for him once he gets better. Gojo gets better. And finds out. Hehehehe Lobe u babes

omg I love this, let's do it hehe

Reader finishing Gojo's missions when he falls sick and he finds out

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader

Word Count: 2,3k

Synopsis: When your husband falls sick, you don't think twice about completing all of his tasks in order for him to not be stressed - even if it means multiple sleepless nights for youself. Little did you know that your husband will find out about it and thank you in his own way...

Warnings: pure fluff over fluff so enjoy, Gojo basically being THE husband for y'all, not proofread because it's already darn late here and I'm way too tired

„Oh come on, don’t tell me the honoured one caught a cold”, you playfully tease your beloved husband.

He’s definitely ill, there’s no doubt in that. The way his forehead is covered in sweat, his unusual pale face paired with his heavy breathing. Let alone the sight of his red and runny nose.

You never thought this is possible. After all, Satoru is one of the few people who are able to use revered technique. Isn’t he able to heal himself, to prevent his body from falling sick?

“Looks like I overdid it those last weeks. My body is catching up on my apparently”, he replies weakly along with a nasty sounding cough.

You know all too well these last weeks were like a trip to hell and back for him. This is actually the first time you saw your husband after one whole week of him running from mission to mission and coming home into bad past after midnight. Being two special grade sorcerers, it is your responsibility to prevent the worst things from happening. Especially during summer, the number of curses triples. And that paired with the stinging fact that jujutsu sorcerers die like flies each and every day…

It’s no wonder his body took a toll on him.

“You’ll stay here for the rest of the week, babe”, you instruct him gently while pulling a blanket up his chest.

“Nah, no chance. I’ll have a pile of work when I get back and-AH.”

It’s frightening, the way he almost chokes while coughing so roughly that it vibrates through your whole body. This doesn’t sound good at all. To be exact, you’ve never seen your husband like this despite the fact that you’ve been together for multiple years by now. If he’s feeling this miserable, it’s definitely time for a break.

“Don’t worry about that. I hold the position while you’re gone.”

Little did he know you meant that.

-a week later-

“It’s far past midnight. Why are you still up, (y/n)?”

His hoarse voice rips you out of your microsleep immediately, lids so heavy they feel like closing by themselves if you don’t pay close attention.

“Oh, just work.”

No, it’s not just work. Apart from the daily drama you have to endure, you made it your mission to complete each and every task your husband would face as soon as he comes back. You know all too well he’ll throw himself fully into work again, not thinking about his own health a single second. And to prevent that, you decided to finish his missions as well, to teach his students, to do anything in your power to prevent Satoru from a pile of work.

Including swollen eyelids, constant grumpy mood, no effort to eat and your shoulders hanging down onto the ground.

You hate to admit it, but you are exhausted. You never realized how much work your husband does during the day. Must be easier for him, though. Teleportation sure sounds nice at the moment…

“I’m worried about you, babe. Are the elders bombarding you with work again? Maybe I need to have a serious talk again-“

“No, don’t think too much about it. I’m just hanging on a bit, that’s it”, you lie.

Oh, Satoru knows it is. After all, you’re talking about yourself. You, so disciplined that you’d never leave work unattended. No, it’s absolutely impossible that you’re “hanging on a bit”. But what else is it? The dark circles underneath your eyes look like valleys in the soft light of a lamp, tired eyes failing to focus on the paperwork in front of you. Usually, this is what you’re doing straight in the morning when he’s still asleep. What keeps you so busy these last days? He has to find out, he-

He almost chokes on himself again, earning a concerned side eye from you. It’s been a week and he’s still sick to the brim. Worry lines decorate your face, palm gently resting against his scorching hot forehead.

“Off to bed with you.”

“Don’t stay up too long, okay? All you seem to do is work these last days”, your husband replies worried himself.

You sigh to yourself. That’s because you do. But leaving your husband to a pile of work after he returns to Jujutsu High only to get sick again? You grab the pen in your hand tighter, force your eyes to fully open. Only a few more days and you’ll be done. After all, you’re doing this for him, right?

Satoru is definitely worth the sleepless nights.

-a few days after-

“Turns out I’m fully back at normal again, babe!”, your husband announces proudly.

You blink against the harsh light of the merciless sun, eyes dry like sand. Only a few hours ago, you returned from a village Satoru was supposed to inspect. Well, minutes turned into hours when a special grade curse appeared out of no where and made your life living hell. The sun already began to rise when you carried yourself back into bed.

But still, you can’t help but smile at him. These last days were rough for him. Him, the strongest, passed out because of a cold. He wasn’t himself all this time, weak body bound into bed with his limbs aching.

“So glad to here that”, you mumble while pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips.

“Sleep in for a while, you look exhausted (y/n). I know you just came back a few hours ago and don’t you dare to lie at me.”

Your eyes widen in an instant, cheeks blushing ever so slightly. You were so careful about leaving and returning, his even and long breaths not giving a single hint that he might be awake.

“I’m heading to Jujutsu High, bet work piled up pretty bad. Wish me good luck and have a good rest princess, I’ll kick their asses if they try to call you!”

With one last loving glance at you, he’s gone. And you can’t help but pass out immediately.

“Guess who’s back to save the day!”, Satoru announces proudly into the room filled with his students and Yaga Masamichi who looks at him with the same disinterest as usual.

“You? Didn’t even know you even exist anymore”, Nobara mumbles while filing down her nails.

“How are you? (y/n) told us you were sick”, Yuji interjects.

“I’m completely back to normal!”

“What a shame”, Megumi mumbles under his breath.

“Sooo, what side of earth do I have to save today? I’m sure a lot of work piled up while I was gone. After all, I’m the strongest.”

Satoru stretches himself playfully, waiting for the director to tell him about all different kinds of missions, curses and teachings he has to deal with these next few days. But instead, he just shrugs his shoulders.

“What? Got nothing to say? Okay, let me guess, what about that special grade curse in the village-“

“Done”, Yaga Masamichi replies dryly.

“The combat training with the first year-“

“Done.”

“Any curses that appeared in Tokyo?”

“Done.”

“Taking care of-“

“Done.”

This can’t be true, the man in front of him has to joke. Apart from you, Satoru is the only special grade sorcerer here at Jujutsu High. No one would ever be able to fulfil some of those missions, let alone teach his students just like that. Not even the director himself is capable of dealing with that special grade curse he was talking about just before Satoru got sick. But who…?

“Didn’t your wife tell you she already managed all those things?”

Oh, he was so stupid that it hurts. All these nights he caught you almost falling asleep on your desk, the multiple times you sneaked out of bed far past midnight, the dark circles under your eyes. All this time, you weren’t only busy with your own missions. No, you actually fulfilled all of his work for him as well.

“Just the amount of work I have to do when I come back. Urgh, being sick sucks.”

“Don’t worry, love. I’m sure you’ll be fine.

Yeah, he sure as hell is. But only because you decided to make your own life living hell for two weeks straight.

“Please don’t tell me (y/n) did all of my stuff while I was gone.”

“I’ll never understand how a kind-hearted woman like her ended up with you. She didn’t even stop when I told her to and somehow managed to get information about the missions I prepared for your sick ass”, the director replies dryly.

“Call her in right now.”

Words aren’t enough to thank you for this. No, you deserve way more than that, way more than his mouth could ever give you.

“And let her leave again in about an hour.”

-an hour later-

“Again, sorry for calling you in, (y/n). Now get back home, you’re free tomorrow.”

“Thank you”, is all you’re able to reply, wobbly feet carrying you back into your car and onto the road.

You sigh to yourself. Well, you definitely didn’t expect the director to call you this early when you just returned from an exhausting mission. But who are you to say no to him? After all, it’s your job to do this, it’s your job to protect the innocent.

But…Is it also your job to answer strange questions from your students in the morning?

“Come on, use your brain! You know what the director said!”, Nobara hisses through gritted teeth, the trio sticking their heads together after you were forced to drop your haircare routine to Nobara.

“Ehm...so…well…”

“If you don’t have any further questions, I’ll go-“

“Yes! I have a question!”, Yuji screams so loudly that his voice echoes through your tired brain.

“What is it, Yuji?”, you mutter with your eyes closed.

“How exactly are babies made, (y/n)-san?”

“You’re an idiot…”, Megumi grumbles.

“Really? This is all you have left in your pea-sized brain?”

“What? You just told me to ask her something and that’s what I came up with!”, Yuji defends himself.

“Yeah, but that ‘something’ definitely didn’t include THAT!”

It’s almost as if they were forced to ask you dumb questions. You’ll definitely have a talk with your husband about their strange behaviour when you caught up on sleep. But before that…

You open the door with a swift motion.

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widen.

The usual so modern and clean living-room is now covered in rose pedals and filled with the fresh scent of sakura leaves, your couch unfolded and covered in the most fluffy blankets, pillows and stuffed animals you’re ever seen. And there he sits.

He, your beloved husband, holding up your bathrobe oh so inviting.

“What’s going on here?”, you breathe out.

Suddenly, all the exhaustion you felt earlier disappeared into thin air. Did he really do all of this for you? The candles flickering, the blankets, the strawberries covered in chocolate waiting on the table, him wearing that black t-shirt you love so much.

“Guess what, I found out what you did. Did you really think you’ll get away with stealing my work in silence?”, he teases, love dripping from each and every word he says.

“It was nothing”, you try to brush him off.

But instead, he gets up and grabs your hand in order to guide you into the dim bathroom that is only lightened by a few candles. Again, the lovely smell of sakura leaves radiates from the bathtub filled with bubbles and hot steam. Just the thought of letting yourself sink into that warm water, to finally release the tension in your sore muscles-

Before you’re even able to comprehend what’s happening, Satoru took off your clothes and lifts you off the ground with ease. Your body doesn’t dare to fight back, too weak from all the missions you completed these last days. Just the tip of your toe, relaxing in the water for a few minutes before returning to Jujutsu High…

“Nothing, huh? So you mean doing the stuff I need a month for in two weeks besides your own missions is nothing? Words can’t express how thankful I am to have such a sweet, caring and steaming hot wife”, he whispers against your ear, his fingers starting to massage your back oh so skilled.

You allow yourself to sink into his touch, to rest your eyes for a few minutes. Well, there is no denying in the fact that this was a little too much for you. All the fighting, the paper work, the heart and soul you poured in each and every work.

And then there’s him. Satoru, your beloved husband, who massages your back with his skilled fingers. How lucky you are to call him your husband, that he decided to spend the rest of his life with you. Even though he scolded you ever so slightly for managing his pile of work, you know he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. What a treasure, how glad you are to know him, how wonderful he is…

“(y/n)?”, Satoru purrs against your ear.

You don’t response, chest rising and falling slow and steady. He can’t help but smile to himself, admiring he beauty of your finally resting face. Carefully, he lifts you out of the bathtub and covers your body in the fluffy bathrobe you love so much. You definitely deserve some rest for all the work you did these last days.

He can’t help but gently caress your cheek, making sure you’re completely tucked you underneath your favourite blanket.

“What a lucky man I am”, he mutters to himself while outlining your parted lips.

“To call someone so wonderful my wife…”

Tags:

 @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix 

@lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete

@gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3

@sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly

@froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi

@chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper

@baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp

@localhehecat @alicerhr @belovedvamp @wifenanami @dlwlrmas-world

@darkstarlight82 @satoreo @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @okay-it-is-ivy

(this took me forever so if I tagged u be so kind and leave a like/comment/reblog lol)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #in a world of boys he’s a gentleman #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo husband #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk satoru #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #satoru x you #yuji #jjk yuji #jujutsu megumi #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #nobara #itadori #jjk trio

[kingkaizen]

𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓬'𝓼

∘ desc: breeding scenarios revolving around the jujutsu kaisen boys, hope you enjoy <3

∘ ft: gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna,+ choso

∘ a/n: first post on the blog! im so excited for you all to read. pls let me know if you want something similar for different characters, i'm open to ideas!

∘ includes: nsfw, breeding, dirty talk, creampie, crying

Gojo

↠ this man has one of the biggest breeding kinks, this isn’t up for debate he’s so serious

↠ he can’t help but love the possessiveness of it all, the way you squeeze around him so tight while he mumbles over and over about how much he wants to fill you up

↠ “Fuck princess, you’re clenching around me so hard..makes me wanna give that pretty pussy what it deserves.”

↠ “Yeah, you want me to cum inside you baby? How bad do you want it? Tell me baby.”

↠ he can’t really make out your desperate response, but he could tell how much his words are affecting you by the way your back begins to arch paired with your eyes rolling to the back of your head

↠ the thought of getting you pregnant turns him on much more than he’d like to admit to you, why wouldn’t he want to put his claim over you in the most primal way possible?

↠ gojo can’t stop himself from pounding into you harder, reaching impossibly deeper as he presses your legs against your chest 

↠ “I can’t wait to see you all full with my cum, with our child.” 

↠ his fingers stroke at your clit before moving up to rub your tummy

↠ “right here? im gonna fuck a baby into you.”

Geto

↠ geto’s breeding kink isn’t something that he’s ever mentioned to you before

↠ truthfully, it isn’t really something that he’s put much thought into in the first place

↠ it’s more of an “in the moment” thing

↠ he’s always been very rational, but all sense goes out the window once he hears your voice

↠ “god, you always sound so cute for me. begging for my cum just how i like.”

↠ he wants you to tell him how much you want it. He won’t give it to you unless he knows how desperate you are

↠ but even then, he knows that there’s no way that he could ever deny you anything

↠  so when he finally does let it all go, he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking underneath him

↠ “i’m gonna fill you up again and again until i cant anymore, you deserve it all.”

Sukuna

↠ breeding to sukuna is a privilege

↠ he doesn’t care how needy you get, if you don’t deserve it, he won’t give it to you

↠ he’s a huge tease, so even if you think you’ve been good, he’s still never going to make it that easy

↠ he loves it most when you work so, so hard just to prove it to him

↠ with your hands gripping the sheets beneath you, he has you on all fours, towering over you casually as you push back against him

↠ “god you’re such a slut, i didn’t think you were this desperate to get me off.”

↠ his laugh sounds so sinister coming from him, smiling so wide at the way your arms shook as they began to give out

↠ sighing deeply, he braces a hand against the headboard, other hand gripping your waist as he finally moves you on his cock himself

↠ “you’re so pathetic, making me do all the work when you promised you could make me cum yourself. i guess you’d rather have me finish on your back then, hm?”

↠ the sound of your whining in response makes him feel that much more powerful

↠ “calm down, im just kidding. i’ll make sure you take it all inside of you like a good girl.”

Nanami

↠ nanami isnt someone that i can see wanting kids

↠ sure, he probably would be very good with kids but it isnt something that he necessarily wants for himself

↠ the only aspect of this kink that nanami enjoys is the mess

↠ sex with him is always so passionate, he puts his everything into making you feel good

↠ he can’t help but crave the sight of his cum leaking out of your cunt, and the way it always leaves you twitching and begging for more

↠ “you always feel so good, getting me so worked up already.”

↠ after he’s through with you, he never stops there

↠ carefully placing your sore legs back down from their previous spot on his shoulders, he slowly plunges his fingers into your core

↠ he’s almost ashamed of himself by how much he gets off to your fallen tears as he scoops his cum from inside of you, hushing your soft hisses with rough kisses to your face 

↠ “c’mon baby, i want you to see how good we taste together.”

Choso

↠ breeding for choso isn’t about the potential risks or even the mess

↠ he simply just wants to bury himself deep inside of you, completely losing all and any sense of control

↠ he never really indulges you in this kink unless he really just needs to let off some steam

↠ seeing you wear literally anything is enough to get him in the mood, he’s so attracted to you

↠ you were both on your way to meet up with some friends, but he couldn’t help dragging you into the bathroom

↠ you soon found yourself being fucked against the wall, choso not having a care in the world about anyone who could just walk in

↠ “i’m sorry baby, i couldn’t wait, j-just wanna be inside you.”

↠ he thrusts into you with such urgency, so needy for his release so that he can watch the way his cum trickles down your thighs

↠ your nails dragging down his back while creaming all over him sends him right to the edge, loud and desperate groans making its way to your ears as he sets you back down

↠”now you’re gonna walk back out there and hold my cum inside of you until we’re done here, okay?”

© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #choso smut #choso x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk x reader

[lemonlover1110]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 11] A Better Man

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Shiu… To what do I owe this pleasure?” You open the door to your apartment to find your ex-husband’s old friend. You have no contact with the man, therefore you have no idea why he stands in front of you. He holds a pink gift bag, making you assume that he’s brought a gift for the baby, but why? Then you remember you have a very persistent ex-husband that’s very good friends with the man that stands before you. “What does Toji want? He can just call me, he has my number– For fuck’s sake, you have my number.”

“I’m just here to drop off a gift for my niece.” Shiu says, holding up the bag. He’s not here just for that, and you know it but you won’t drag out an interrogation, demanding an answer from him. Instead, you take the bag from his hand and begin to close the door in his face. He stops the door before it’s shut right in his face, “Not so fast.”

“So you’re not just dropping off a gift?” You tilt your head to the side, slowly blinking your eyes to play dumb. Shiu sighs, shaking his head. He doesn’t like to admit that he's here on behalf of Toji… Well, Toji did ask him to come but Shiu isn’t exactly trying to push the agenda that Toji urged him to.

“Can I come in or not?” Shiu asks, and you take a moment to think about it– Well, you pretend to take a moment to think about it, wasting a couple of precious seconds of his life. Instead of answering, you move to the side to allow him in. 

Shiu takes off his shoes when he steps into the apartment. He hadn’t been here since he helped you move in, and it’s nice to see how the place has been transformed into an apartment that screams your name. He almost laughs at the fact that everything looks babyproofed, even when it’s too early for it. He knows you don’t have that much time in your hands to do it all, so it’s clear what your priority is.

“What did Toji tell you to do?” You question when Shiu sits on your couch, putting the gift bag on your coffee table. Shiu is biting his tongue, not wanting to answer the question immediately. 

“Can’t I just come around to check up–” He begins, but you cut him off before he can finish his claim. You swear you’ll roll your eyes so far back into your head that you’ll be able to see your brain if he claims that he isn’t here on behalf of Toji.

“Be serious with me.” You respond, as Shiu’s hands go to his knees. He takes a deep breath before nodding his head. 

“He wants me to convince you to move in with him since he claims that’s the best course of action since you’re having a baby and all.” He tells you, making you scoff. Toji just doesn’t know when to drop something, you never realized how persistent he can be while you were married. Maybe because Toji didn’t even try. “I’m honestly here just to say I showed up.”

“Then why did you insist on coming in?” You reply, and Shiu sits in silence. How does he answer honestly and fast without prying. Shiu doesn’t want to build a case for Toji but at the same time, he does have a lot to say in support of him. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable either. “Just say it.”

“Toji’s a tough person to be with but he does love you.” Shiu says, and you click your tongue. You’ve heard the argument a million times, and you’re never convinced. Even if he does love you, you’re never getting back with him.

“Why do you bring this up?” You ask him. “I mean, I thought you weren’t going to try anything but here you are, telling me that Toji does love me.”

“I’m not trying to convince you of anything, he does love you and I’m just bringing it up.” Shiu argues, and you hold back on sighing. You keep your irritation to yourself, wanting to seem neutral about all of this.

“Okay, what’s the point of it?” You respond, wanting this conversation to be over. You shouldn’t have to explain to him that trying to be convinced that you should get back with your ex is a rather bothersome topic. 

“You two are expecting a daughter, if you actually want to get back with him don’t feel guilty.” He tells you, and you chuckle. Did he really just say that? You wonder if you would feel guilty if you got back together with him, but for what reason would you?

“I appreciate it, Shiu, but I have no plans on getting back with him. Do I really need to tell you how horrible it was to be married to him for you to stop helping him?” You try to sound nonchalant about it all, but the annoyance peeks through your voice. Shiu feels the need to disagree with you, even though he’s helping him in a way.

“I’m not helping him.”

“Then what are you doing?” You question, making the man suck his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s quiet. He doesn’t know how to answer because you’re right. He is helping Toji.

“I guess I am.” He answers. He lets out a sigh, standing up from the couch, beginning his walk to the front door since the reason for his visit has come to an end. “It’s just weird to see Toji so miserable… He’s trying really hard to get something he wants and his efforts are in vain.”

“Toji needs to learn that he can’t get everything he wants. I gave him many chances, and he took them for granted. I shouldn’t be expected to give him another chance simply because he realized he can’t have me anymore.” You argue, and Shiu can’t say anything back because you’re right. He doesn’t know the extent of your issues with Toji, therefore he shouldn’t say more.

He opens the front door and waves at you, and before he can say anything else to you, you say, “Please don’t come around if you’re just coming here for Toji, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Hope you like the gift.” Shiu says before walking out. You don’t hesitate before closing the door. You roll your eyes as you walk to the coffee table to get the bag.

You find the cutest hat inside of the bag, which nearly makes you squeal. You should text him and thank him, but you’ll hold off on it. You’re reasonably upset. You have enough to deal with Toji, you don’t need a third party getting involved simply because he’s Toji’s friend.

For a moment you thought that Shiu would remain neutral in all of this, just now do you realize just how foolish you were. Shiu is Toji’s friend, not yours.

You smile like a schoolgirl when you get a delivery of flowers early in the morning. You’re excited for the lucky person that’s going to be met with flowers this morning. You ask who they’re for, and it takes you by surprise when he says your name. You sign for the flowers and are quick to look for a note.

You don’t really need to ask who they’re from, you know they’re from Toji. You find the note, one that makes you smile even brighter. You hate that it does, but finally getting the attention that you’ve been lacking from him makes you feel accomplished. He makes sure to compliment you in every way possible in such a small note. 

And just as you put the note away, you receive a message from him, asking you to lunch. You have to take a deep breath, putting the phone down for a minute to not seem too excited. You won’t let a beautiful bouquet of flowers change your mind. You try to seem as unenthusiastic as possible when you accept his invitation.

Toji picks you up at the office, but unlike other times, he doesn’t get out of his car to go to you. You can only assume it has something to do with your supervisor, but regardless, it’s none of your business. Toji is a single man, what he does with other women is no longer your matter, as much as it fills you with jealousy.

“There you are.” Toji gets out of the car to open the door for you. He makes sure to compliment you more, “You’re glowing today. You’re stunning.”

“Thank you, Toji.” You respond as he opens the car door. You get in, and he runs to the driver’s side to not keep you waiting. 

He begins the short drive to the restaurant he picked out for lunch, making light chatter. He’s asking you about you and how you’re feeling, and you give him short dry answers. He’s really trying, and you feel bad for doing this to him– But he deserves it.

You get to the restaurant, and the first thing you notice is how nice it is. He’s going all out on you, and it’s hard not to be happy. You dreamt of this for years, and you’re finally getting it when you have no need for it.

“Thank you for the flowers, Toji. They’re beautiful.” You bring up when you’re seated at a table. You don’t want lunch to be as awkward as the car ride.

“I’m glad you like them.” He responds, a shy smile on his lips. Who would’ve thought bouquets would be so expensive, he wouldn’t dare bring up the price though. “Also… Sorry about Shiu.”

“Let’s not talk about him please.” You tell him, and Toji nods in response. Of course you wouldn’t like to talk about that.

You’re looking at the menu, deciding what’s most appetizing at the moment. Something that won’t make you sick to your stomach. While you focus on that, Toji tries his best to think of something that’ll catch your attention. There’s only one thing that you can talk about for hours, and that’s the baby.

He clears his throat, “Anzu is a cute name.”

“Huh?” You look up at him, a sparkle in your eyes when you hear him. “I love the name! But I’m not sure, I have to keep looking at my options.”

“Of course, we have time. But I heard the name not too long ago and I love it.” Toji agrees. You begin to talk about baby names, and he finds himself getting excited. It’s hard not to get excited when you’re clearly over the moon because of this. “I hope we can come to a decision before she’s born.”

“Do you think she’ll be born before or after Megumi’s birthday?” You ask as your hand goes to your bump. Toji takes a moment to think about it.

“On his birthday.” Toji answers, and you hope that isn’t the case. You wish Toji can celebrate his son’s birthday without an issue. “How are you holding up though? Is everything okay?”

“Why do you mainly ask about me and not the baby? Aren’t you excited?” Your question comes from pure curiosity. You swore Toji was getting excited about her, but his questions are only to you, very rarely about the baby. Toji clears his throat before answering,

“I’m excited. I am. But you’re my main priority.” You raise your brows, a bit taken back by his response. “You were my wife first, and you always will be. My priorities will shift when she comes along, but she isn’t here yet.”

He’s choosing the right words, making you foolishly smile. He’s doing things right today, and if he keeps doing them like this, you might reconsider the decision that you’ve made.

But you remind yourself that you could’ve had this husband for years, but he chose not to be. Regardless you smile,

“You’re right. Thank you, Toji.”

#toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fanfic #toji fic

[l0vergirlwrites]

gulity as sin ; eddie munson

synopsis: since eddie joined your friend group, you’ve fallen for him. but sometimes the feelings you’ve harboured for him make you feel guilty—but he’s just too dreamy, so how could anyone blame you?

warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of weed & alcohol & partying, mentions of sexual thoughts, downbad!reader & eddie, love confession & makeout!!!!

note: i just had to get this out of my system but i’ll write my next ttpd fic based on the winning things on the polls don’t worry!!

“just so you know, you’re staring at eddie like you wanna fuck him” robin whispered in your ear as she came to your side with extra vcr tapes to stack near the back of the store.

“jesus! am i really?” you asked in a hushed whisper, face crowing warm with embarrassment. you couldn’t help it when eddie just looked so good as he leaned on the front counter talking to steve.

while you mentally face palmed yourself, robin gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “just a little bit”

peeking back over her shoulder at eddie to make sure he wasn’t looking at you (because you’re anxious & paranoid), you let out a breath of relief. “you think he noticed?”

she laughed “i hope not”

letting out a quiet gasp, you shoved robin’s shoulder “thanks for the vote of confidence, rob” you said sarcastically.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!—but seriously…” she paused for moment to create dramatic effect. “when are you gonna fess up & tell him how you feel?”

the big question.

with a big sigh, you shook your head in retreat. “probably never. it’s just some stupid crush—& besides, we’re just friends. i don’t know if he’d like me like that, rob.” you said while getting back to work, trying to get the image of eddie’s ring clad hands out of your mind so you could focus.

“is that really how you feel? or is your fear of rejection speaking for you?”

narrowing your eyes at her, you rolled your eyes knowing she was kidding (but was she? were you really hiding behind a guise so you wouldn’t get hurt?).

“you know,” she paused to look at eddie. “if he doesn’t want to jump your bones, i’d be floored” she said cheekily, causing you to nudge her rib cage.

“he doesn’t” you stated, but in your mind you hated the thought of it.

“if that’s what’ll help you sleep at night” she chided before moving onto a different shelf, the open space letting your eyes drift back to eddie, only to find that he was looking right at you.

“you coming to the party by reefer rick’s place on the weekend? i convinced stevie boy here to tag along—“

“—& to be the DD. i don’t know how i got roped into this” steve cut eddie off with an exasperated expression.

with the spotlight (eddie’s eyes) on you, you couldn’t help but feel stuck in place & your mind was running a million miles a minute.

clearing your throat, you nodded. “yeah sure! i should be able to if keith doesn’t make me come in last minute”

the last sentence caused eddie to roll his eyes.

“who cares about what keith says—you’re coming & you’re gonna have fun! you’re deserving of blowing off some steam, right?” eddie said convincingly.

“he’s right! fuck keith & his stupid last minute shift calls“ robin agreed with steve soon following suit.

jokingly with your hands up in surrender, you finally agreed. “maybe you guys are right…”

“of course we are, babe!”

the pet name eddie called you made your stomach flip in six directions, your face growing warm until steve beat you to speak.

“when the hell did ‘babe’ get into your vocabulary, munson?” he asked eddie with a quizzical eye.

“oh calm your tits harrington—“

“hey man, i don’t have tits & i am calm so shut—“

“hey!” you yelled, shutting them both up. “no bickering on my watch, idiots” you pointed to them both, causing eddie to place his right hand in his heart in apology.

“what do you expect,” robin chimed in. “they’re five year olds”

you both laughed a bit at her comment while the guys just rolled their eyes.

“well, i’m gonna head out & prep for my next campaign. butttt, i’ll see you geeks saturday?” he asked while twirling his van keys around his index finger.

before steve could try to rebuttle against eddie about him calling you all “geeks”, you beat him to it.

“yes—we’ll be there! bye eds” you waved sweetly, your hand flattering when eddie shot you a wink before heading out the door.

as the glass door chimed & shut after his departure, you immediately turned to robin.

“he winked at me!” you mouthed to her with excitement.

“are you guys secretly talking without including me, again?”

turning to steve, you gave him an apologetic look. “she was just fawning over how eddie winked at her” robin said with a nonchalant smile, causing you to gasp.

“robin—“

“why do you care if he—wait… ohhh… that makes sense” he lit up like a light bulb, going back to checking through the return log on the computer.

you stood there stumped at his reaction.

“is me liking eddie predictable?” you asked aloud, causing steve & robin to share a glance.

“yes” they said collectively, leaving you to sigh & turn back to the shelf to finish stacking the pile of tapes.

**~*~**~*~*~**~*~~*~**~*~*~~***~*

it was now saturday, & you were on speaker phone with robin as you were getting ready for the party.

you had decided to wear a short flowy black skirt, fishnet tights, your favourite black boots, & a dark green babytee with your favourite band on it. it was simple, but cute (& you secretly hoped eddie would think the tights were a nice touch).

“do you think you’ll tell eddie how you feel once you get some liquid courage in you?” she asked genuinely.

with a thoughtful sigh, you stopped applying blush to your right cheek. “gosh, rob—i don’t know. i don’t think it’s a good idea”.

you could tell she was shaking her head from the other side of the phone.

“remember when i was too afraid to tell vicky i liked her?”

you knew what she was gonna say. “yes, i do”

“so, you remember how you told me i should just ‘go for it! do it before it’s too late—what’s the worst that could happen?’, right?”

you slumped in your desk chair, fidgeting with your makeup brush. “yes…”

“sooo, you gotta practice what you preach—tell him before you regret it!” she encouraged, but still, you were horrified to.

“what if—“

she shushed you. “no what ifs. don’t do that to yourself—just be honest when the right moment comes along”

staying silent for a moment, you thought it over in your head before coming to a conclusion.

“maybe you are right, robin”

“i’m always right—regardless of what steve says” her words made you laugh, relieving you of a little stress.

**~*~*~~~*~***~*~**~**~*~*~~*

it was now nine-thirty on the dot & you could hear steve’s beamer honking from your driveway, signalling that it’s time to go. as soon as you stepped onto your driveway, you were met with hollers & whistles from your friends in the car—including eddie.

as soon as you saw him with his head out the window, whistling & vocally saying “shit y/n, looking good!”, you could’ve sworn you were going to collapse then & there.

shushing them before their hyper annoyed your neighbours, you (coincidentally) got into the backseat with eddie.

“you have everything?” steve asked before reversing the car.

“yes, dad” you joked before a silver flask was shoved into your lap.

“got you your favourite” eddie told you with a smile, causing you to audibly “awe” & thank him before taking a swing from it.

despite steve having a fancy car, the backseat was surprisingly small, so you knew it was going to be a long night with how your thigh is already pressed into eddie’s & his fingers were tapping his jean clad thigh dangerously close to your exposed one.

you caught him every now & then staring at your tights too, which didn’t help the fantasies brewing in your mind of him taking them off you.

“you excited?” you asked him while steve & robin were caught in their own conversation.

swiping his tongue across his teeth, he looked at you with a gaze that made your stomach tighten. “as long as you stick close by, then yeah i’m excited” he nudged you gently, allowing you a moment to process what he just fucking said.

tucking your hair behind your ears (a sign that you were nervous & liked him & were going insane), you let the conversation drift into comfortable silence as steve turned the radio up.

thank god for that.

**~*~~**~**~***~**~*~~**~**~*

the party eddie brought you guys to was packed at some random house on lover’s lake.

& it reeked of pot & beer, which was normal & expected.

with the flask eddie gave you in your right hand & eddie’s hand in your other (because the front lawn was packed & he didn’t want to lose you), your group maneuvered your way inside to disco party lights, sweaty bodies, more pot & more beer.

your grip on eddie’s hand was taut as you continued sliding past more & more people while muttering “excuse me, sorry!” over & over until you guys arrived on the dance floor.

“do you want anything?” eddie leaned down & whispered into your ear so you could hear over the music.

you took a second to answer because of how warm his breath felt against your skin. “no i’m okay, i got this remember?” you said with a smile, holding up the flask he gave you.

returning you a smile, eddie let go of your hand because robin was pulling you to dance a little.

“be back in five!” eddie mouthed to you, holding up five fingers & looking at you until you waved in acknowledgment.

“okay there’s no way he doesn’t want you” robin yelled into your ear as the song changed & people roared happily.

laughing & shaking your head, you disagreed.

“cmon! let’s just dance, yeah? destress!” steve yelled to you both before bopping his head to the music, causing you & robin to look at each other before laughing & join in.

the more songs played & the more you swing back eddie’s flask, you could feel yourself letting loose a little—possibly even making you feel courageous.

so much so that when eddie returned with a red solo cup with some sort of drink, you slung your arm around his middle for a quick hug.

“missed me?” he yelled in your ear.

“just maybe” you replied, feeling his right hand rub your arm up & down before fetching a joint from his pocket.

“missed me more now?” he asked again, laughing when you nodded your head, eyes glassy from the smoke in the room that was building.

“outside?” he yelled again, & you were the only one that agreed.

*~*~*~~*~~*~*~~**~***~*

departing from steve & robin to go smoke, eddie grabbed your hand once again & kept you close as you both made your way to the back porch that outlooked onto the water.

the backyard was still filled with people, especially jocks who were doing dumb keg games, but you didn’t mind. with your back against the siding of the house & eddie in front of you, caging you in, all you saw was him.

& god he looked hot. his hair was a bit frizzy, but his leather jacket managed to showcase his muscular arms & his slightly cropped band tee allowed you to see the happy trail on his abdomen.

it took everything in your power not to fold then & there.

“you want the first hit?” eddie asked as passed you his drink & pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

with a simple nod, you placed the joint between your lipstick covered lips & leaned forward for eddie to light the end of it for you. the action felt extremely intimate & already hand your skin tingling.

with the joint slotted between your fingers, you took a few hits & relished in the buzzed feeling it already gave you. & knowing eddie & is interest in pot, you knew whatever was wrapped within the joint was the good shit.

while you were taking your hits, eddie was reminding himself to not get hard at the thought of your lipstick rubbing off onto the joint or how you looked pretty with smoke exhaling from your mouth—he could feel his pants start to feel the tiniest bit tight at his view of you.

when you handed the joint to him, eddie stood beside you on the wall & took his time (possibly so you could look at him a little longer?).

& you didn’t care because he just looked too perfect with his head tilted up, the veins in his neck showing in the porch light, the joint rested between his ring clad fingers—you could already imagine yourself getting off to this image of him later—but you reminded yourself to stay cool.

everything was fine! you guys were just friends!

“you feeling okay?” eddie asked, turning to you who was already giving him soft doe eyes.

“better than okay” you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder because you felt too warm under his gaze.

“wanna get off inside?” you heard him ask, causing you to cough & blink for a moment.

“shit—what did you say?” you looked at him, feeling his hand begin to interlock with yours again.

“i asked if you wanna go back inside—you sure you’re good?”

oh god, now you were hearing things.

“y-yeah, good idea” you mumbled as you followed his lead, holding on tight to avoid getting broken apart through the sea of teenagers & college students.

you only broke apart when robin pulled you in for a hug, hearing her say “it felt like you were gone for ages!”

for the rest do the night, you told yourself to he lost in the music rather than thoughts of eddie munson doing nasty things to you, which was going pretty successful until you felt his breath on your neck again.

“wanna dance?”

& how on earth could you say no?!?!

you let him pull you into his arms, his hands firm on your waist while yours were loose around his neck.

with the pot & other alcohol mixing in your system, you felt on top of the world. especially with eddie’s eyes on you. he’d twirl you around in circles & give you room to dance your heart out with him in your grasp & steve & robin would give each other knowing glances about whatever was brewing between you too.

you felt hot, sticky, & tingly all over your skin (not just because eddie was touching you) so you pulled his head down a bit to yell in his ear. “i’m gonna find a washroom!” & he was leading you around the house to find one without a question.

once you both found one of the third floor of this outrageous house, you pulled eddie in with you & turned on the light, thankful there was a dim setting.

“jesus, that was bright!” eddie shielded his eyes, causing you to laugh as you hopped up onto the counter.

exhaling a sigh of relief, you let your head lean back & rest against the mirror while eddie leaned against the closed door.

“do you need me to like, turn around or something…?” he asked, wondering what you were going to do.

“no—i just wanted to go somewhere quieter. less sweaty bodies”

he nodded understandingly before shamefully looking you up & down, telling himself to not get hard at the sight of you so pretty. you were already falling down a rabbit hole of all the things you want to do with him right now, each more dirty than the next—it would be just so easy for him to take off your skirt & unbuckle his pants—wouldn’t it?

but the guilt started to seep in & make you hide your face to groan in annoyance because why on earth were you spiralling like this?

“is something wrong?” he walked to you, holding your wrists & pulling them away to uncover you.

“just going insane is all” you replied, causing you both to laugh until he reached up to wipe off some of your smudged eyeliner from your under eye. he just needed to touch you somehow.

“guess what an old friend told me while i was getting a drink earlier”

you tilted your head in wonder, staring directly at eddie’s lips as he spoke.

“he saw us walk inside & told me that we looked like some couple from a movie—don’t remember which one though…” he ended with a murmur, too focussed on swiping his thumb on your cheek until you spoke up.

“is that a bad thing?” you asked, suddenly feeling small in this washroom with his hand directly on your skin.

eddie was closing in on you now, & you didn’t want it to stop.

you instantly felt sober now. especially with how each swipe on your skin felt like he was making you his—which was definitely an exaggeration but how could you need feel that way when he was holding you so delicately?

shaking his head ‘no’, eddie’s brows furrowed. “of course not—it’s not a bad thing. i-i just thought it was, i dunno, cute—“

“cute?” you questioned softer than him, a smile in the beginning stages of forming on your face.

was this your moment that robin was talking about? you sure hoped so.

“i-i think that’s the right word” he stumbled over his words, feeling your right hand brush some hair out of his face.

“i think so too”

& then there was comfortable silence.

you weren’t sure how to move forward from here. do you tell him all your feelings for him that you’ve keep hidden in a vault at the back of your mind? do you tell him that you’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks? that he’s the only one that makes you feel so many things?

you wish this part was easier.

“would it be, i dunno, uncalled for if i told you that you’ve been driving me crazy?” eddie asked, immediately unlocking said vault inside you.

“are you serious?” you asked, completely sober now as you pulled his hand away from your face & fixed your posture, eyes locked on his for the answer.

“as serious as the dead” his breath hitched, unsure if he made things worse or misread whatever signs you sent, but before he could apologize your hands were already on his face to pull his lips to yours.

it was a messy, top lip & hungry kiss that you’ve been dying to experience since you first laid eyes on him. & god did it felt right, with his tongue meshing with yours & his hands gripping your fishnet covered thighs as he pulled you closer to his body with aching need.

it was the kind of kiss that tried to convey just how you felt about him, the wanting & lusting from afar, the longing glances & lip bites when he made you feel a certain type of way.

it was catastrophic & heavy but sweet with laboured breaths of beer & smudged lipstick.

“holy shit” eddie breathed out against your lips, chasing him for another kiss because it was just that good but you were smiling & clashing your teeth against his & giggling from how silly it all felt.

“that is why i’ve been going insane” you panted against him, hands falling to grip the cotton of his shirt.

“i’m crazy about you eddie. & it’s not the drugs talking, i promise” you swore, scouts honour.

with his forehead pressing against yours & laugh escaping his lips that had little bits of your lipstick, he squeezed your thighs. “i would hope not, ‘cause i’m really crazy about you too”

you closed your eyes now, relishing in the weight lifting off your shoulders & how his touch felt electric. “eddie” you exhaled.

“yeah, sweetheart?” his fingers were pressing different patterns on your thighs to the point where you asked in yourself if he was writing ‘mine’ across the fishnet material.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” you asked, already longing for this feeling to last.

“i don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, so yeah, i think we can make it happen” eddie smirked, kissing you quick before pulling back to see your swollen lips.

“wanna go back to the party & surprise the geeks?”

“i’d love to”

& with eddie whisking you from the counter, hand on your hip as he lead you back downstairs, you both immediately saw steve & robin jumping up & down happily when they witnessed you two looking like love sick idiots who finally fessed up.

young love, am i right?

#l0vergirlwrites💌 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic #steve stranger things #stranger things netflix #fanfic

[tiredfox64]

Part two of my kill for hire reader?!?!?! Like the brothers all court her? Different endings on who she chooses?!?!?!

Go for the Kill

Prior notes: @eemr1000 @livingdeadgirly @k3ythesapphic COME GET YOUR FOOD BEFORE THE MOLES GET IT. Tbh I struggled a little but i think I did okay.

Pairing: Lin Kuei Bros x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Just get inside!

You made quite a reputation for yourself. You have been most useful to Lord Liu Kang. Thanks to the help of the Lin Kuei your skills have grown substantially. And look at that, you made three new friends as well. Well, they want to be more than just friends.

It didn’t take long for the brothers to recognize that they all liked you for their own reasons. Bi-Han liked how deceitful you can be just to get the job done. Kuai Liang applauds your tactics and finds your intelligence to be quite attractive. Tomas saw your huge potential and finding out you are actually sweet drew him in.

Yes, yes, you certainly have a nice set of bachelors just waiting to nab you for themselves. But, uh, who are you gonna pick?

I mean they haven’t even asked you out yet. You’ve been busy with more killing assignments so they haven’t gotten the chance to have you alone. It’s fine, it gives them plenty of time to think and prepare a way to court you. They have their own ways, it just depends who gets to you first.

You get back to the Lin Kuei temple after another successful killing. You’re a bit tired and just want to settle down for the night but you can already hear all three of them making their way towards you. Well, now it’s just one since Bi-Han decided he gets to see you first. It wasn’t a mutual decision he just pushed his brothers out of the way.

“I see you are successful once again. I do not expect anything less from you.” He compliments you as if you haven’t been killing for who knows how long. You noticed he grabbed onto your hand, ready to drag you away from everyone else.

“It is incredible how perfect you still look. You look like you barely broke a sweat.” Now Kuai Liang was coming in. He grabbed your other hand with the same intent Bi-Han has.

“You must be tired after that assignment. Maybe you should relax for a little. I can help you.” Who do you think just snuck up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist? That’s right, Tomas.

You could feel tension in the air building up as you looked at all three brothers. They weren’t looking at you but they were glaring at each other. Something’s off but you can’t tell.

“Come with me, I have something important to discuss with you.” Bi-Han spoke.

“Whatever you have to say, brother, can wait. I have something important to tell her as well.” Then Kuai Liang spoke.

“I have something just as important to say to her.” Tomas pitched in.

“Why don’t you all just tell me what you want to say.” You were snappy since you were tired.

There was silence. They were unsure about confessing right now. But if it has to be done, so be it. Bi-Han will go first obviously. He pulled you in close, glared at his brothers, then looked down at you with a less cold look.

“Ever since the first time I saw you kill that fool, I knew you were the perfect woman for me. Skilled, precise, vicious even. You belong next to a grandmaster like me. I would hate for some incompetent fool to have their hands on you and ruin a perfectly good woman like yourself.”

To be honest, you were shocked. Did Bi-Han really have his eyes on you this whole time? You would have never guessed.

I mean it’s not like he deliberately made time to train you every time you were at the temple. It’s not like you caught him giving you that devilish smirk whenever he watch you kill someone else in your own devious way. And when you asked everyone else if he has ever smiled at them that way they all thought you were mad. Cause when the fuck does Bi-Han ever smile. There was never even a twitch in his lips at anything enjoyable other than you. Alright so there were signs you just didn’t think too much into it.

Now it was Kuai Liang’s turn. He yanked you away from his brother and held you close. He looked at you more warmly and a less cold expression overall.

“Your beauty and intellect has awed me. I have never met a woman with your skills. You are a rare kind of person that I would hate to let go of. My desire for you burns brighter and hotter than the fire I produce.”

Kuai Liang’s words were sweet. You believed him since he was always such a gentleman to you. He always complimented and applaud you for your plans. Your ways of execution were unlike anything he has seen. You always appreciated that you felt equal to him. He never held back when you two would practice which helps make sure you were always at your best.

Don’t forget about Tomas. He pulled you in by your waist. His head rested on your shoulder, just appreciating your presence before confessing.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen someone with such skills that could rival a hunter. Not even in my homeland did I see many like you. I see so much potential in you and I want to be next to you as you develop your skills further. No one could rival you.”

You always heard Tomas cheer you on. He wanted to know your tricks and you would happily share them with him. You two had a closeness that came from your sneaky skills. He was great to practice with when preparing for your next assignments, except you wouldn’t actually kill him of course. You appreciated that he saw that you were actually sweet and never questioned if you were just putting up a persona or not. He wasn’t afraid of hearing that sweet voice of yours and think that you were about to poison him.

He let you go and now they were all looking at you. It’s your call. Whoever you will pick will have you for himself. Now pick. Who will you be with?

Bi-Han

(So…this is your choice)

You walked up to Bi-Han. You had your eyes on Bi-Han for some time. He is strong, he helped you better your skills, he’s got a handsome face, and a voice that sends shivers down your spine. Clearly, you’re digging him too.

That devilish smirk came back. In his mind you made the right decision. A woman like you is fit for a grandmaster. Your devious tactics combined with his high title is a great combo.

You didn’t even have to verbally say yes to him he took your approach to him as the answer. Unexpectedly, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

Well he can’t have you in front of his brothers since they wanted you just as badly. You didn’t know where he was taking you but you recognized soon that he took you to his office. Just for extra measures since the locks apparently aren’t good enough, he froze the door handle. Now no one could get in and no one can get out.

Bi-Han wiped all the papers off the desk before placing you down on it. He leaned his body against yours to the point he pushed you onto your back. You heard a little hum of desire before he spoke up.

“Finally, we are alone. I have you all to myself.”

Kuai Liang

(Is this correct, reader?)

You walked up to Kuai Liang. You need a gentleman like Kuai Liang. Not just that but his body drew you in. So warm and well built. All those times he would pin you down during practice made you fall for him hard. Even his serious expression was attractive to you.

You made Kuai Liang a happy man today. A lovely lady like you is something he has dreamed of. One that is just as tough and precise when plan making as he is.

“You have quite a way with words, Kuai Liang. I can tell it came deep from your heart.” You commented as you placed your hand on his chest.

He looked at you so lovingly. In your heart you felt like you made a good choice. He held your face as he leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead. The kiss felt hot. His desire truly does burn hot.

You heard a groan come from Bi-Han. At least Tomas can act happy for his brother. Kuai Liang will surely get shit for this from his brother. But it doesn’t matter. He has you and he couldn’t be more happy.

“Do not worry about him. He is just upset that I have a beauty like you in my arms now.”

Tomas

(Your eyes see true)

You walked up to Tomas. You want someone who sees so much in you. To hear that you remind him of his homeland made your heart melt. You never heard something so sweet.

Tomas was ecstatic. Being picked is such a wonderful feeling. He picked you up in his strong arms and twirled you around as if you were a princess. Hey, I bet he would give you that princess treatment you deserve.

You giggled as he placed kisses all over your face. His beautiful huntress. All his.

Of course Bi-Han groaned and wanted to start a fight with Tomas. For once, Tomas would not let his brother get in the way of his happiness. He threw a smoke bomb in Bi-Han’s direction which made him go into a coughing fit. At least Kuai Liang was happy that his brother found love, and that he didn’t get hit with a smoke bomb. He turned his attention back to you again.

“Perhaps we should go somewhere more private, my dearest.”

Bonus: All of them

(I’m the writer I get to have a say!)

“Well, you clearly all like me. Why not I just date all of you.” You said it so casually.

You stumped them all. It wasn’t because they didn’t think of that it’s because it’s not something one would usually say in a situation like this. But you ain’t the usual kind of gal, are you.

“Can’t I love you all equally? Don’t brothers have to share anyways?” You keep bringing up these points which stump them further.

Ah yes, the tactic of confusion.

You can easily love them all. They will get their own special treatments. There is so much to love about each one of them. You were already debating on this before so you had this all set in your mind.

“Perhaps you can. I am unsure how this could work but it will not hurt to try.” Kuai Liang answered.

“Yeah, I think this could work out. You always find a way to make things happen. it will make everyone involved happy.” Tomas added on.

Kuai Liang agreed with Tomas which made them both on board with this. Bi-Han was more hesitant. He should have you all to himself. But it would make some things awkward around her. Oh fine! At least he still gets you.

“Fine. We will have it your way. But I get to have you first.”

Bi-Han picked you up and threw you over his shoulders. You get a sense of deja vu but you never experienced this, right?

All the brothers start to argue and insist he put you down. It was a no from him every time. You sigh as you realize this could get a little complicated.

Oh dear, looks like Bi-Han needs to learn that sharing is caring.

After notes: Alright yall I gotta go gamble and fight senior citizens for pickle rick, giants football, and a Japanese switch. I will throw hands. Sorry if this ain’t the best I did my best. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #bi han x you #bi han x reader #bi han mk #kuai liang x you #kuai liang x reader #mk1 kuai liang #tomas vrbada x you #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada smoke

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XVIII

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself, and... idk, I didn't mean to put anything warning worthy here, but if you think of something I guess let me know. <3

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII

----------------------

The days that followed after Satoru told you he liked you, it seemed that everything had gone back to normal and you two were slowly falling back into your usual routine: meeting up early in the mornings, bantering in between classes and missions, and eating lunch with Shoko when all of you were at the school. It was comforting to have things return to how they used to be, or that was what you thought.

“What’s up with him?” Shoko asked across from you.

Satoru had business to attend so he had just left you and Shoko at the table in the cafeteria.

“What do you mean?” you looked in the direction he had gone but could no longer see him.

From your perspective, Satoru had not changed much since that day he walked through the school holding your hand; he had not pressed the subject of whether you liked him back still any further either, and since he appeared to be okay in this grey zone where you two were sitting, you had not brought it up either. However, Shoko, as perceptive as ever, had noticed how Gojo, who always seemed to like your personal space, was moving into it almost permanently these days; how he was not even bothering to be discreet with the way he looked at you or remained by your side when you were in the same room, and how, if he was not careful, it would be evident to everyone pretty soon.

At first, Shoko had believed it was all in her head; since that day, years ago, when she first considered that Gojo could have some kind of crush on you, the notion had prevailed. In fact, she had thought she was looking into her friends’ relationship too much, maybe because none of them seem to pay any mind to how they were perceived, so it was not entirely impossible her eyes were just making her believe what she had accepted as true for so long was finally materializing.

Gojo’s laid-back attitude had been one of the reasons why Shoko doubted he cared seriously about whatever feelings he could have for you. Other than that rocky season in high school and a few other occurrences through the years that followed, Satoru had never taken any steps towards an actual relationship with you. Hence, Shoko thought it's a harmless crush.

But as of lately, he looked more... intent. Or maybe...

He’s losing his grip.

“You’ve never found him annoying, have you?” Your friend looked at her almost empty plate and it somehow reminded you of a similar talk you had had months ago.

“A bunch of times, but I guess I don’t find him too annoying,” you answered.

“Isn’t that all love is about?” Ieiri’s eyes connected with yours.

Her comment caught you off guard, and she might have noticed the way your smile froze because her gaze did not leave yours.

You did the only thing that could think of: laugh it off. “Yeah, I guess, if love is annoying, that is.”

Are you finally annoyed by it, Gojo?

“You tell me.” Shoko smiled and put the last bite of her food in her mouth.

***

“Why won’t she just admit she likes him?” Satoru asked while looking at the movie playing in front of him.

Maybe it was a rhetorical question, but you did not look at him before replying “Because there would have been no movie if they were that direct.”

It was a Friday night and Satoru had made an impromptu proposal to you to have a movie marathon at his place. You had accepted but now, into your first movie of the night, you were having trouble to stay focused on the story, which was supposed to be some sort of romantic comedy, not half as bad as many, but the romantic scenes were making you self-conscious.

You watched the scene where the protagonists had gone from arguing to making out and you felt the need to look somewhere else.

From the corner of your eye, Satoru seemed unimpressed.

He’s unfazed, of course he is.

Actually, Satoru was only calm on the surface. Unbeknownst to you, he had also perceived the change in the air between the two of you when the more intimate scenes started playing. He thought he should have chosen a different film, but suggesting changing it now would only make the unsaid more obvious, so he was sticking it up with the most unexpressive face he could manage as the actors on the screen seemed to melt into each other.

Satoru had not meant anything suggestive by choosing that movie; he had just played the first thing he found as he always did when you had not planned in advance, and under normal circumstances, that would have been fine. You had watched all kinds of films together, including romantic ones, the good and the bad ones, but now…

Satoru was already looking at you when you were about to steal another glance in his direction.

His gaze revealed a question he dared not ask, or rather, a question he had promised himself he would not ask until you were ready.

He was trying to be a good friend, even if he wanted to be more than that. It had took him a while to figure out his feelings, so he had resolved to give you as much time as you needed. Yes, Satoru was convinced he could wait patiently, but…

Is he leaning forward?

At times… His resolve weakened.

“[name]…”

The look he was giving you was that of a kid who wanted to ask for something but did not know how. In his clear eyes, there was need but also fear of being denied.

What is your answer? his eyes were asking.

The winter had also frozen time in your friendship, in this safe spot in Satoru’s place, where you could still be friends and pretend nothing needed to change as it never changed in the years before, not in his apartment nor in your friendship. But time must go on, does it not?

“Satoru...”

His phone rang.

Both of you looked at the phone that was screen-down on the coffee table in front of you, and it seemed to take Satoru a couple of seconds to decide if he wanted to pick it up, but he finally did.

“I’ll be right back.” You got up and went to the kitchen.

Giving him some privacy to take the call was an excuse; part of you just wanted to escape of it all, ask Satoru to take it back, let everything remain as it was, stay in the known, but the other part, the part that had been falling for him all this time wanted to see it through.

Are you in love with him?

For a second, you were back in your living room with Haruki, his question and your answer resonating in your head as you watched the cup of tea travel steady from the table to his lips.

“Some people think knowledge that doesn’t change behavior is worthless,” his eyes did not meet yours, and you did not reply immediately.

“If you knew he liked you, would you act on it?” He had almost finished his cup.

"I don't know," you replied.

Months ago, you had been convinced you wanted to act on your feelings, but now, the idea of change was scary, the idea of trying to later find out it was not what you wanted, was scarier; the idea that you and Satoru would never recover if that happened, was terrifying.

“To change something, you first need to accept the possibility of change, and of course you need to know that those possibilities exist. I guess in that way, that knowledge is not worthless, even if nothing actually comes out of it. We should accept the possibilities.”

His feelings were sudden but if there is a possibility...

“Okay, I can accept that,” you said lowly to yourself.

“You can accept what?” Satoru was looking at you and taking the sodas you had just mindlessly pulled from the fridge from your hands.

The room felt a few degrees warmer with his proximity.

“Nothing, I was just...” Your gaze drifted to the door leading to a small terrace where Satoru had installed a couple chairs to sit on when the weather was nice. He almost never did it though, and you could use some fresh air. “Do you want to go outside?”

A smile played on Satoru’s lips. “Isn’t it cold?”

“Just for a bit.”

That was how you and him needed up outside looking at the city lights. You looked up but it was impossible to see the stars. Satoru mirrored your gesture and then directed his gaze back to the city.

“Do you ever regret it?” he asked.

“Regret what?”

He shrugged. “Staying here, doing what we do, not going somewhere quieter or… somewhere where you could see the stars.” He looked up again and you kept your gaze on him.

Why was he asking that now you did not know, but you answered him honestly.

“I do not regret it.” It was true. Even when you did have the opportunity to do something else or be somewhere else, you chose not to leave. “This is pretty too.”

The lights of a city that never seem to sleep were probably not as fascinating and mystical as the stars that burned millions of light years away, but they had some beauty of their own.

“I guess so,” Satoru agreed, and he wrapped an arm around you, and after some silence he spoke again.

“Aren't you cold?”

You nodded your head. “But can we stay here a little longer?”

And maybe what you really wanted to ask was can we stay like this a little longer?

In any case, Satoru would have given you the same response as he held you tighter.

“Of course.”

----------------------

Note: I'll try to proofread... Oh, and sorry about basically disappearing. Thank you a bunch for the kind messages during my silence. <3

Thank you for reading!

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh @stellasloth @bloopsstuff @cheesemachine44 @tetsuski

#gojo satoru #jjk #gojo x you #jjk fanfic #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x reader #pay it no mind

[vodika-vibes]

Congrats on 500, love that's amazing!!!

If I could have Wolffe and Wmerald during spring that would be absolutely lovely.

My Choice Remains

Summary: After the attack that costs Wolffe his eyes, he’s taken to avoiding you. Luckily, you’re just as stubborn as he is.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader

Word Count: 717

Warnings: Wolffe is a little insecure here

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @the-bad-batch-baroness (you love wolffe after all)

A/N: Sorry that this took so long! It kind of got...lost, in the shuffle of all of the other requests! T-T

“Found you!” You lean over so that Wolffe is forced to look at your face, and you note that he seems surprised to see you. To be fair, it is early enough that the sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, even the recently bloomed spring flowers are still sleeping.

The surprise fades quickly as he leans back to look at you, a stern look on his handsome face, “Found implies that I was lost.”

Your grin never wavers, “Weren’t you?” You ask as you plop yourself on the bench next to him and temptingly offer him the breakfast sandwich and caf you ordered for him specifically.

The sandwich and caf that you’ve been ordering every morning for the last month.

Wolffe glances at the food offering, and then sighs and takes the bag and the styrofoam cup, “I knew where I was.” He replies as he pulls the sandwich out of the bag.

“So you’ve been avoiding me then.” 

“...no.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Wolffe.” You reply as you take a sip of your own caf, “But that’s okay, I happen to think it’s one of your good traits.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you.” He counters as he glances at you.

“Really?” You lean over to try and look at his face, but he turns his head away from you, “Because, it kinda seems like you’re still trying to avoid me.” You shift on the bench so that your knees are touching his, “Is this about me agreeing to go on a date with Comet, because it wasn’t a real date-”

“No, it…wait. What? What date?”

“Oh. He didn’t tell you. Never mind.”

Wolffe finally turns to look at you, an unhappy scowl on his face. And you finally see why he’s been avoiding looking at you. The scar and cybernetic eye don’t detract from his looks, in your opinion, but you have the feeling that he won’t appreciate that comment. “What date?” He demands.

You roll your eyes, “It wasn’t a real date. Comet bumped into a cute little thing at the farmer’s market-”

“Comet goes to the Farmer’s Market?”

“Yes, he does. Stop interrupting me,” You chide lightly, “Anyway, she asked him out, and he freaked out and asked me to take him on a practice date so he doesn’t mess up too badly.”

“...how was the practice date?”

“Not terrible. Aside from the fact that he said that my haircut was ugly.”

“It’s not.”

You beam at him, “Yes, I know. Comet apologized right after he said it.” Wolffe hums and turns his head away from you again, or he tries to. You don’t let him, your fingers gentle against his jaw, “May I see, Wolffe? Please?”

The paper wrapper of the breakfast sandwich crinkles in his suddenly clenched fist, but he allows you to tilt his head so you’re looking at him properly.

The injury looks like it’s healed properly, it’s not red or inflamed. And the cybernetic eye looks like it’s working as well as his natural eye. You lightly trail your thumb over the scar, and Wolffe closes his eyes.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” He admits, gruffly.

“Well, you avoiding me made me worry more, Wolffe.” You point out gently, “I thought I had done something to make you hate me.”

He huffs out a laugh, his breath fanning across your face, “You could never.”

You hum quietly, “Did you think that I wouldn’t still find you attractive because of the scar?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, “...you did always like my eyes.” Wolffe finally admits.

“Silly man,” You lean in and press a light kiss just over the scar under his eye, “I like you. Everything else is just…window dressing.”

Wolffe sighs softly, “Was worried that you’d regret choosing me.”

You shake your head, “My choice, Wolffe, remains. You. Always you.” You lightly press your free hand against his cheek, so you’re cupping his face between your hands. “But I can be patient until you believe me.”

He sighs again, “Thank you.”

You beam at him, “Of course. That’s what it means to love someone.”

And the look he shoots you is so soft, and so adoring, that you know that you won’t have to wait long for him to realize that you’re not going anywhere.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes 500 followers celebration #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

[koiibiito]

SHit I fell in love with your writing ❤️ Don’t know if you accept requests but if you do, will you consider writing one where reader cheats on her shitty bf with Enzo? My boyfriend is emotionally abusive and I am gathering the courage to leave him. I’m at the point where all he wants is s** but nothing he does can even turn me on anymore, funny what psychological trauma can do to you. Don’t mean to dump everything on you, I just feel like you’re such a cool person to talk to. AND I like to imagine that Enzo is capable of treating me the way I deserve.

pairing: enzo vogrincic x f!reader

length:

tw — infidelity (on reader’s part), hints of an emotionally absent partner, semi-public sex, mutual pining, feelings.

a/n. oh dear anon i am so so sorry to hear what you’re going through. it has been a while since you sent this and i sincerely hope you’ve dumped your abusive bf (hopefully an ex by now?). you can ABSOLUTELY come talk to me anytime, although i gotta say i don’t have tons of long-term serious relationship experience. and, you are so fucking right, Enzo would be the best boyfriend there is, he’d spoil you with sm love that there won’t be any room for you to think of any other men!!

second nightlife fic of the day. im not an alcoholic but i love substances. <3

one last thing: i do not condone cheating, like at all. break up with them, tell them you need a clean break, idc make sure they know you’re currently not together anymore, and then you can sleep with anyone as much as you like.

It is never hard to find Enzo Vogrincic in a crowded room. As demure as he seems, he stands out, broad shoulders and wide stance making him appear large, commanding… though perhaps it is easier for you to find him, seeing as though you are always looking for him.

You wonder if he knows you’d be here.

The party was far out of your usual social bubble, a gathering of young actors, amateurs and professionals alike, most of whom went to the same acting school, all muddled voices and low lights, a bass thumping music from the corner of the room. You wouldn’t normally venture out this far on a weekday night, but you’d heard mutterings from a friend about the open invites her older sister had mentioned, and you had hoped that Enzo heard the same rumor mill as well.

You planned to leave if he wasn’t there, but now you are just waiting for an opportunity to get closer, or perhaps for him to seek you out.

He is a vexation to you, a temptation that never seems to go away, not even after you found your partner over a year ago. You still found yourself awake at night, wishing you were in someone else’s arms, in his arms. You religiously check your phone, look at his location, dreaming that you were there in his apartment, that he would text you and beg you to come over.

But you know he never would. Up until recently, he had been dating the same girl, he was loyal to a fault, even if that fault meant you’d never get to touch him like you wanted to.

He is your forbidden fruit, the box warned to never be opened, else you’d both have to face the consequences.

However, you have a feeling that the consequences would surely be damned tonight.

You feel the heavy presence of his gaze since you spotted him, felt like you were being pulled into his gravity well, all your thoughts churning and tumbling around him, your lungs tightening when you catch his eyes across the room. It’s maddening, as if there were whispers in your ears telling you to go to him, to touch him, an invisible cord tugging at your heels to get closer.

He must have felt it too, that pull, because before the night’s over, his hands are on your waist, large palms gripping at the fabric of your skirt as he leads you into a back room. He’s polite about it, using his size to help the two of you navigate between the throngs of people, but his grip is harsh, crushing, like he’s afraid if he let you go, you’d disappear into the crowd.

“Do you know anyone here?”

There is more to his question, you can hear remnants of more words resting under his tongue, suppressed but still heavy.

“No,” you shake your head, lacing your fingers into his as you spot a surprisingly empty couch against a forgotten wall.

The music in this room is dulled, sound bouncing off the walls in a vicious repeat of being heard and unheard. The ceiling is lined with neon lights, the kind that cycled through colors, and there were cups, empty and full, left neglected on the floor, the furniture, simple yet sufficient enough to show that this room is still in use. You wonder how many people have come and gone from this room.

Enzo takes the lead when it comes to the couch, body weight sinking into the worn cushions. Then he’s tugging you into him, onto him, spreading you across his thighs as you settle into his lap.

“Then what are you doing here?”

He says the words like he doesn’t already know the answer, like his hands aren’t back on your waist, fingers sneaking under the sides of your shirt to rub against too-hot skin.

Your mind is swimming, still trying to catch up and recognize that he has pulled you into his lap, that he is making the move to touch you, to begin prying open the lid to something that should not be opened.

Confidence is bubbling in your throat. You feel powerful like this, your hands on his shoulders, body hovering over his, his brown eyes looking up at you like he wants something, something only you can give him.

“I’m here for the same reason you are.”

You are here because his lingering touches give you hope, every brush against your lower back on your way to work, every smile and quip that he throws over his shoulder just for you. You are here because you need to feel him, you need to know if what you are craving is truly what you are missing.

He is here to see if you really want him, to know if all your late-night texts are more than just flirting with temptation, to know if you will run away when he finally touches all the places on your body he thinks about on restless nights.

You both know all the reasons, which is why your body is quick to mold against his, legs snug against his thighs, hands tracing his neck, his face. His hands are bolder, slinking farther up your top, hot and heavy and engulfing against your stomach, up to your breasts.

No one knows you here, no one will know. Only you two know the history that lines every caress, every excited breath and heartbeat.

No one is going to know that when he presses his mouth to yours, he is kissing something that doesn’t belong to him. But in that moment, you are his, and he is yours, and neither of you are going to let that go to waste.

Enzo groans against your lips, a soft grumble that sends tingles down your spine. You nestle in closer to his lap, slanting your mouth against his hungrily as he gropes at your breasts, thick fingers dipping underneath the fabric of your bra. You can feel him getting hard within his jeans, pent up lust brewing from where your core is pressed against his erection.

As your tongue slides into his mouth, you urge one of his hands to trail lower down your body, grasping it gently as you place him underneath your skirt.

“Touch me,” you whisper, losing the words in his mouth.

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Two of his fingers curl against your damp panties, tracing over the outline of your pussy. You moan quietly, still aware that there are people walking in and out of the room, though it’s not like anyone is sober enough to pay the lovebirds on the couch any mind.

You kiss at his jawline, trailing your lips down his thick neck, being careful not to leave any marks behind, though there is something pressing in the back of your mind that tells you to claim him.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he says it with a grin, his other hand now pinching at your hardening nipple beneath your shirt.

“I’m always wet when you’re around.”

The rumble that leaves his chest almost startle you. It sounds possessive, like he is coming alive at your words, coming alive from touching the most sensitive parts of your body.

He roughly moves your panties to the side, fingers now dancing within your slick, back and forth, fingertips brushing against your folds and spreading you apart. He prods your tight hole, testing the waters before plunging one of his fingers inside of you.

You hiss out a sound of delight, head tipping back and spine arching at the sudden wave of pleasure. After a few quick pumps, he adds a second, keen eyes watching how your chest heaves and your mouth falls open.

“I bet that feels better than your own pretty fingers, baby.”

It is not even a question; he knows the answer to that. He leans forward, licking up your exposed throat with a flat tongue, greedily taking in the sweetness of your skin as he keeps his fingers moving inside of you.

You are gripping onto his shoulder for dear life, nails piercing into the tight threads of his t-shirt. Your hips rock down against his hand that is obscured by your skirt, your thighs growing hot as they rub against his dark jeans.

“You’re so tight,” he breathes against your neck, eyes closing as he focuses on feeling you, “like someone doesn’t fuck you right.”

A strangled sound leaves your mouth, shocked and sharp, but smothered by the moan that soon follows as he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing and rubbing against the fleshy patch of your inner walls.

You cannot remember that last time you touched yourself without thinking of him. You can’t even remember the last time you didn’t close your eyes during sex and wish that he was on top of you, moaning your name and whispering praises.

You move to press your forehead against his, sweet little sounds still pouring from your lips.

“I need you to fuck me right, please.”

“You sure you want me to stuff this pretty little pussy under your skirt? Fuck you right here?”

You nod silently, brain sloshing with bliss, shocks of heat and pleasure still rolling from where he’s driving his fingers inside of you.

“Yes, I want you so, so badly, Enzo.”

One of your hands is sliding down his chest, fingers almost catching in the grooves of his muscles. Deft fingers work at his belt buckle, hastily pulling at the leather like nirvana was waiting within his jeans. He moves to help you, releasing his hold on your breast so his hand can aid yours in freeing his cock from his zipper.

You settle in closer, wrapping your hand around his cock, thumb tracing a thick vein as you keep him pressed close to your belly. His head falls back against the couch, massive shoulders sagging with a breathy sigh as you pumped his wide cock in your palm. His skin is hot and silky, pre-cum sticky against your fingers.

A whine leaves your chest as he pulls his fingers out of you, covering your small hand with his slick covered fingers to have you sliding against him harder, faster.

“Sit on me, baby, let me feel you.”

Your hands return to his shoulders for balance as you lift your thighs up enough to let his cock settle between them.

He keeps his grip on your thighs, easing you down onto his length. You mold your lips to his again to keep quiet, a burning, blooming line of ecstasy stemming from where his cock is sinking into your depths. He tastes so good, warm like bourbon, like foreign, forbidden spices that you cannot get enough of.

Enzo mumbles curses against your mouth, his fingers so deep into the flesh of your thighs that you worried for a moment that he is going to bruise you. Let him, your mind screams, you want something to remember this moment by.

You gasp as he finally sheathes all of himself inside of you, your legs back to resting against his jeans. One of his hands finds your face, cupping your cheek and keeping your mouth on his, lips wet and messy as they move against one another.

Your inner walls burn from the intrusion of his fat cock, but you feel so whole, like you were made to sit on him and suck him into you.

“You feel so good, so fucking tight,” his voice was cracking, like he is holding in his sound.

You rock your hips tentatively, whining softly when you feel the sweet stretch of his cock inside you, feel the thick length of him plunge deeper inside you. You could’ve cum just like this, just from the thrill of it all, of finally having the man you want most, seated inside your cunt.

“No one’s here,” he muses, gaze settled over your shoulder to look at the empty room, the ghost of music the only presence left, “be a good girl and stay quiet for me, okay?”

You nod against the hand still placed against your cheek, nuzzling into it for comfort as he begins to thrust his hips up into you.

“Fuck, oh fuck, yes, anything you say,” you mutter, eyes closed as he uses the hand on your hip to help bounce you into his lap.

You both fell into a brisk rhythm, bodies rocking and bucking against each other, fingers digging into skin, moans left stuck in your throats.

It’s all so much, the feeling of his jeans against your thighs, against your clit every time you sit back into his lap, the feeling of his breath against your neck, of his cock splitting apart your wet insides. You can feel your slick against his thighs, feel it pooling against his dick every time he leaves your wet heat only to pump back in again.

“What are you going to do with the cum I leave inside you?”

You whine at the thought, causing his palm to press against your mouth to keep you quiet.

“You’re gonna leave it inside you, alright? Let it sink into your panties all night.”

You nod your head eagerly, hips rolling a little faster to get you closer to that point. You want to feel him cum inside you, want to feel his seed drip slowly from inside you for the rest of the night.

His thrusts are getting a bit frantic, the rhythm breaking as you feel him twitching inside of you. Then his thumb slides beneath the fabric of your panties, rubbing tight, quick circles on your clit. The shock of pleasure has you panting against his palm, eyes squeezing shut as you feel that tight coil inside your belly ready to burst.

“God, I want you to be mine.”

He says it into your throat, planting wet kisses between the words against your skin.

If only he knows you are already his. You have been for so long, every other thought you have is about him, every weak moment you have revolves around how badly you want him, how you need this.

You’re pressing up that orgasmic ladder hard and fast, the thrusts of his cock and the swirling of his thumb throwing higher and higher towards the peak you desire.

Then, the world suddenly doesn’t exist anymore. You see white behind your eyelids, feel heat explode from inside your core, waves of euphoria washing over your body as you cream around his cock. You can feel your walls sucking him in tighter, fluttering with each crest and ebb of your orgasm, bringing him to the point of stopping as you milk his cock for all the cum he promises.

You cry into his hand, grateful that it’s there to stifle your sounds of ecstasy as you come apart around him. You feel his cum coating your insides, thick and warm, cock drooling relentlessly until all the cum cannot be contained inside of you, instead spilling out from where his cock meets the spread folds of your cunt.

You pry his hand from your face, crashing your lips onto his as you feel a rush of heavy emotions come in the wake of your orgasm.

He holds you close, smoothing his lips over yours with tender kisses as he pets your cheek, runs his fingers down your back.

“Come home with me,” he whispers against your mouth, hope laced between his words.

“I—I can’t, I shouldn’t.”

You can tell the weight of your actions are settling into his composure now, ses the realization flash across his eyes. But then something new falls into his resolve, a look of determination.

“Come home with me and stay with me.”

A thought flashes across your mind, the image of the body you had left behind at home in bed, and then that picture blends into one of you wrapped in Enzo’s arms, comforted and whole and desired like how you wanted.

You brush your hand across his cheek, feel his grin tug against your palm.

“You’ll have to pull your cock out of me before I can follow you home.”

#lsdln x reader #lsdln smut #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic smut

[nerdieforpedro]

Angel in Disguise

Javier Peña x plus size female reader

This fic and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: a little over 1k

Summary: It's raining and it reminds you of your recent interactions with your best friend Javier Peña.

Warnings: unrequited love, angst, one person you work for should not drive, slight self-esteem issues?, possessiveness

Notes: I haven't posted anything for Javier Peña for a long time. I'm glad I was able to write something. This is one of two for @undercoverpena 's April Showers Challenge.

Main Masterlist/ Javier Peña Masterlist/ Writing Challenges Masterlist

Leaning against your desk, you’re looking out at another rainy day. Thankful that you keep a pair of rain boots in your office and at home. You’re thinking of last month and last week, how you’ve lied to Javier and yourself. It’s for the best though. 

Large drops remain on the window as the sound of the water falling intensifies. Last month you had finally worked up the, well with a shot or two of liquid courage to tell him. Tell Javier Peña that “yeah, we’re friends Javi but I want more from you. Have wanted more from you. I could make you happy, because I know you. We know each other. I can give you something simple, a life together.” One of your favorite dresses, your deep violet one that had the open shoulders you liked. Pretty and not too sexy you felt, just right.

Nothing was right that night. He walked in with a woman you were pretty sure was at least ten years younger than him or maybe she had excellent skincare and always used sunscreen. His hand looked perfect on her waist and so did hers on his. He introduced her to you as his girlfriend of the last six months. You’d heard him mention someone but didn’t think it was the same person. Was she the one that had large mood swings? Javier would never admit it but you know he craves a bit of drama. Something you rarely have any of. Dinner was nice at the bar. She seemed nice. Neither of them stopped smiling nearly the entire night. 

The only silver lining is that you live on a lower floor than Javier so you don’t hear that. You’d go insane if you heard them doing that. You’ve heard the rumors and have gotten the sense (though given your feelings you could be biased. Highly doubtful,) that most of them are true.

That night you went home by yourself, threw off your dress and flopped across the bed. You weren’t sure if the rain came down first or your tears but you do know that you cried yourself to sleep and woke up cold. 

That was last month. Now they’ve been together for seven months.

This week at work you were legitimately busy given that the ambassador you work for has decided to drive drunk and hit a lamppost, damn idiot. Of course he wants to use his diplomatic immunity and the policia would like to make an example out of him. Negotiations are led by you as you represent the embassy. Javier was able to catch you one day, say hello, how are you and ask what you thought of Camilla. Her name is even pretty, like her. She was polite and complimented your dress that night. Nothing bad to say about the woman except she exists or is doing so next to Javi.

You lied right to your friend’s face and told him that you like her, she seemed very sweet, that you three should go out for drinks and that she’s beautiful. The last one wasn’t a lie, she was stunning. The rest of it you’re still unsure how you made it all drop from your mouth so easily. His eyes light up and Javier says something that is as honeyed as it is a stab, “I’m glad you like her. I was worried you might not and then I’d have to wonder if she’s really right for me. You’re the best ángel.” You think you smiled and gave him a hug before going back to dealing with the ambassador issue. It’s a blur. Getting back to your office and stopping yourself from yelling took priority over before getting back on the phone about this drunkard’s problem which is yours.

Finally into the next week, you’ve settled the dispute between the policia and the ambassador. He’s required to pay for the damage and a substantial amount of money to the city of Bogata with a suitable donation to the policía as well. You should have left a few hours ago, but then you might have run into Javier on your way out. You need to steady yourself before seeing him. ‘Just act like I did two months ago. It will be fine.’ That’s what you tell yourself but you know your body will betray you when you see him. You feel the melancholy and longing again. 

The gray skies match your mood. Subdued. Drippy. Unsettled. Foreboding. Closing your eyes, you feel them fall against your cheek again, the tears rolling down. Twisting your body to reach for the tissue box you now keep on your desk, you pat your eyes to see Javier Peña in the middle of your office.

“Hey amiga, qué paso? (friend, what’s up?) You’re crying.” It’s kind that he asks, Javier is always kind. Before you can tell him you’re fine, he’s got an arm around you and kisses your forehead. “What’s wrong?” You won’t tell him why, he’s happy and you know he deserves it. Given the small pieces of how he came to be at the embassy. Broad strokes and rumors are what you know. Javier doesn’t talk about his time in Columbia or pursuing the Cali cartel. When it’s mentioned his face hardens, letting people know to change the subject.

“Just a tough day today, that's all Javi. Thanks.” Your head leans against his chest, breathing in his scent. Keeping your hands around the tissue you’d been dabbing your eyes with. A thought you immediately regret enters your mind:

Could she be an angel in disguise and leave him broken on a rainy day such as this? Maybe Javier would be standing out in the rain? Could you take him against your chest like he’s doing with you now?

No. It wouldn’t be the same. Javier is being a sincere friend to you right now. You would have an ulterior motive. 

A few more tears fall across your cheeks as a gust of wind blows the rain loudly against your window. Even the sky is scolding you:

Leave that man be, you’re the angel in disguise. 

Peeps who want a hug from Javier 😭:

@guelyury @yorksgirl @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @javierpena-inatacvest

@theywhowriteandknowthings @goodwithcheese @maggiemayhemnj @readingiskeepingmegoing @bitchwitch1981

@harriedandharassed @bishtrouille @schnarfer @katw474 @megamindsecretlair

@tinytinymenace @magpiepills @pedroshotwifey

#pedro pascal characters #javier pena fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena x you #javier pena x plus size reader #undercoveraprilshowerschallenge

[bullet-prooflove]

All About You: Dean Archer x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mandy426 @helsinkibaby @hufflepuffgirl

Dean doesn’t do this. He doesn’t fuck in storage closets in the hospital where he works. He leaves that to med students who've seen too many reruns of Grey’s Anatomy. However right here, right now he just can’t help himself because it’s been a few days since he last saw his wife and he’s been needing to blow off a little steam.

Your hands are in his scrubs, bypassing his underwear, fingers wrap around his hard cock. He’s leaking already, moaning into your mouth as your thumb spreads it across the tip of his dick.

Your lips take a detour, kissing a heated trail along his jaw until you find that spot, that deviant space just under the hinge of his jaw that makes him thrust into your hand as he says you’re name.

“Don’t you dare make me come in my pants...” He mutters, his words cut off as you bite down just a little making him moan.

He feels your smile against his skin before you kiss lower, lips brushing over his neck, his chest, his collarbone before you sink to your knees in front of him, pulling his scrubs down along with you.

“That isn’t what I meant...” He tries to chide you but your lips are already enveloping his cock, your tongue teasing over the tip causing his breath to hitch.

Christ you feel good, he’s almost forgotten what it’s like to be loved by you.

His fingers gently pull the hair tie from your hair, allowing it to fall across your features and something just clicks, you’re not the M.E anymore. You’re his wife, the one that he’s barely seen in almost a week.

You take him deeper and he says your name as his fingers tangle in your hair, his head tipping back against the wall. He won’t last long, not after all this time apart. He can feel that tingle of ecstasy at the base of his spine as your palms come to rest on his hips, pinning them to the wall.

He will never admit it to anyone else but he loves when you force his pleasure, when you coax it out of him. It’s hard for him to get his head out of work, to forget the responsibility that comes with being Head of the E.D. This is the only way to do it sometimes, to remind him he’s Dean, not Doctor Archer.

“Sweetheart.” He warns you as the rapture tears through his synapses like an IED, stealing away every inch of his sanity.

All he can focus on is you in that moment, the hot, tight sensation of your mouth as he spills his release down your throat. He tries to catch his breath as you draw away, your hands lightly guiding his scrubs back up his hips before you tuck him back in.

“You’ve been stressed lately.” You say by way of explanation. “It’s not good for you.”

“You can just say that you missed me .” He says with a knowing look.

“I thought showing you was a better use of our very limited time together.” You tell him as his watch goes off, signifying the end of his break. He sighs as his hands come to rest on your waist drawing you against him. Your perfume floods his nervous system, the sensual scent of rosewater washing through his senses as he breathes you in.

“I wish I could return the favour.” He says regretfully, his fingertips teasing over the elastic of your own scrubs. “Because I really would like to.”

“I know.” You tell him, your palms coming to rest on his chest. “But…”

“Tonight.” He says, his forehead coming to rest upon yours as he clasps your hand to his heart. “I’ll grab takeout on the way home, run a bath, I can use that massage oil that you like…”

“That sounds like heaven.” You say and he can tell from the look in your eyes that he’s not the only one that needs a break. The past week has been gruelling for the both of you. He should have checked in more, he thinks, made himself more available.

“Tonight is gonna be all about you.” He promises as his watch goes off again, signalling he’s needed elsewhere. “I’ll make sure if it.”

#dean archer #dean archer x reader #dean archer x you #steven weber #one chicago #chicago med

[braineater444]

To Be a Princess

Chpt 3

Last/Next

TW: Disordered eating, Violence, Not proofread (just tell me and I’ll correct any mistakes)

A/N: This isn’t crazy because I’m going through a lot and just want happiness for a moment lmao. Short and sweet.

Hajime munches on his own salad and watches as you finally finish separating out all of your lettuce and eat only the cucumbers and other small things. He smiles.

“The villa we bought… it’s almost done.” Hajime breaks the silence. You have no idea what he’s talking about. “Haruchiyo is going to be watching you here while Mikey and I go see the progress today.”

“Who the fuck is Haruchiyo? And why can’t I come?”

“You’ve met him before. And I just don’t want to bring you. You’ve been… difficult lately.”

So, you’re being punished? “Whatever.”

“You know, I don’t really like Haruchiyo. He’s a bit- If he wasn’t bringing Mikey I would’ve had someone else do it.”

Huh?

✮✮✮

You do recognize Haruchiyo. A scarred face with a bright pink mullet and blonde roots starting to show. The man who drugged you on your night out. Your one perfect chance to run that he didn't let you take.

“Why do they always have me doing stupid shit. I am not a babysitter.” He huffs as he falls into the plush cushion of the couch right next to you.

“Because you look like that.” You respond flatly to words that weren’t aimed at you. You’re sure you’re right, though. Look at him. Without the scars he still would look crazy.

His head turns to meet your gaze. There’s a moment of quiet consideration before his lips crack into a crooked grin. He raises his hand slowly to meet your mouth. Suddenly the nail of his thumb presses into the gash on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and make you jerk to the far side of the couch.

“At least I don’t look like you, right?” He quips and smiles to reveal unusually straight and bright teeth. “Guess that’s why you couldn’t go either.” He shrugs.

Your brows furrow.

“What did he do that for?” Haruchiyo prods. He turns his body to face you and curls up on the couch. His head rests on the cushion and he waits for you to tell the story with a closed smile and a glimmer in his big, blue eyes.

It’s a visceral thing to recall. Your face aches at the memory.

“A couple of days ago, we got into an argument.” You can’t recall what about. “I took the elevator down and he followed me, so I ran and tried to knock on the neighbors doors, but nobody answered.”

Hajime was pissed. You can still feel his hands almost pulling out your hair as he dragged you back home. The burn of the carpeted hallways against your knees and your throat raw from screaming. It never quite leaves you.

Haruchiyo snickers and shakes his head.

“When he caught me, he slammed me into the wall, so I think that’s how my lip was busted. But my eye,” You point at the black eye and cut that sits right under it. “He punched me once and his ring sliced me pretty deeply.” You can still see the anger on Hajimes face so clearly in your mind.

Haruchiyo is keeled over in tears from his laughter. It’s not that funny. At least not to you.

“Are you fucking dumb? No one lives in this place.”

It’s obvious now. No cops were called. Neighbors certainly would’ve heard your screams. But no one came to help. No one will come to help. It’s been a slow realization.

“We thought about starting to rent it out later this year but I couldn’t tell you shit about what’s going on with that. I doubt it’ll happen now, with him beating you up in the hallways and stuff.”

✮✮✮

“She can’t come to my place? Why do I have to stay here?”

You can hear bits of what Hajime is saying over the phone.

I’ll be back in the morning…I don’t trust you….

“Whatever.” Haruchiyo rolls his eyes and hangs up before Hajime finishes talking and immediately calls someone else.

“I’m stuck at Koko’s place with this girl. Come over?” He smirks at something you can’t hear. “Yeah, okay.”

✮✮✮

Ran is an objectively beautiful man. Even the absence of a soul behind his eyes adds to his allure. It’s a shame. Ran could model, but instead he’s this.

“Hajime is going to kill both of you.” You giggle as you watch Ran pour one of Hajime's favorite expensive wines into Haruchiyos mouth. It slightly overflows and starts to trail down his chin before Ran catches it with his index finger and licks it off the digit.

“He’ll kill Haru, not me. I was never here.” He speaks playfully as he turns to you. Haruchiyo sits behind him on the too big kitchen table rubbing his leg against Rans. “Open up. Your turn.”

You don’t really like Hajimes wine but you do as you’re told. Your head is tilted back and your mouth hangs open in wait, but before the splash of the dark red wine hits your tongue, you feel the warmth of Ran’s hand on your neck holding you steady.

It feels good to do something that you know will piss that man off even if it’s just swallowing down his favorite nasty drink.

After Ran takes his own swig he says something about how good the wine is, but you don’t hear it. What you do hear is his next statement:

“I would never let that happen to my face.” Both he and Haruchiyo laugh when your only response is a middle finger.

So, Ran knows he’s good looking.

Haruchiyo leans into his friends chest and Ran embraces him with the bottle still in his hands.

“Yeah, but it makes sense for Koko. Remember that uhh… The guy?” Haruchiyo looks up at Ran who’s still lost in grimacing at the marks on your face.

Ran shakes his head. “What guy?”

Haru pulls out of Rans arms to really look at him. “The blonde one? With the- uhmm. The ugly hair.”

Rans brows knit closer as he tries to remember. He nods as if he’s following, but you can tell he’s still confused.

“Koko stalked him for a while. What was his name?”

“The faggot with the burn mark across his face?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, Koko- NO. Girl!” Haruchiyo turns to you with wide eyes and a smug grin. “Before you, there was this like… guy. And I don’t know if they were dating or not but they definitely broke up and- uhm…” He looks to Ran and snaps his fingers trying to remember what happened.

“Yeah.” Ran sounds much calmer. “A couple years ago, it ended between them and Koko went and beat the guy about it.” He shrugs and takes a sip of the wine. “They weren’t together, but Koko was obsessed with him so when the guy didn’t want anything to do with him he lost it.”

“I remember after that he got worse. So I think it makes sense why he’s weird now.”

Ran thinks for a moment and then nods. “They used to be best friends before they got separated, then I don’t know. I see the guy sometimes and I think he remembers me.”

It would’ve been nice to know this before getting this far in.

“You think they fucked?” Haru muses.

“I hope. For Kokos sake.” Ran scoffs.

✮✮✮

“What would you do if I tried to leave?” You can’t tell if you’re being serious when you ask and Haru doesn’t seem bothered enough to answer aloud.

He only pulls up his shirt just enough to flash the gun tucked in his waistband. Without looking, Ran says “Be good.” And you can’t tell if he’s talking to you or Haru with the way his eyes never leave the tv screen.

“Shooting me doesn’t really seem like the solution.”

The man shrugs and rests his head on Ran’s shoulder.

“You’re too malnourished to get very far anyway.” He teases.

He’s right. You drop it.

You have no idea what movie you’re watching. It’s late and you’re a little tipsy. This is the best life has been in a while. Why run?

#Haru: What a waste of building. Beautiful building. #me changing this chapter last minute after having worked on it for a month 😿 #tokyo rev x reader #bonten x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tw: violence #tw: ed

[amongemeraldclouds]

no take backs

As the earth collapsed around you, your sworn enemy decides to confess his feelings for you with a kiss. So when the world doesn’t end, what happens next?

Jess Mariano x f!Reader

Warning: 18+ only MDNI, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex, piv, v!fingering, reader has anxiety (only plays a small part in the story), earthquake (no injuries)

Author’s note: Based on this request then I expanded on the concept. This fic is set after he left Stars Hollow.

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Jess Mariano Masterlist | 2.4k words

“Just because I’m letting you drive me home, does not mean we’re friends,” you huffed as you climbed into the passenger seat of Jess Mariano’s beat up car. Vintage, he called it. You’d never admit it, but you found it cute how he was proud of it. To him, it was his key to freedom, going anywhere he wanted whenever he wanted. Except for when nature had other plans.

“Well, a coworker could take his other coworker home, okay?” He said, closing the car door as he slid his keys into the ignition and started up the car. You relent and gave him your address.

It was just your luck that the Earth’s tectonic plates decided to shift in ways that damaged your car, but not your mortal enemy’s. Perhaps it was karma and you were being encouraged to make amends with him in the name of world peace. Try as you might however, the word “peace” and Jess Mariano just did not fit.

It certainly did not feel peaceful being trapped in a car with him. Your cheeks blushed as you remembered how soft his lips felt against yours and the eager way they moved as if it was the final thing he would ever do in his life. And for a few moments back at the publishing house, tucked safely beneath a table while the world shook violently around you, you were both convinced it was your last moments.

It was confusing. The way your heart hammered and you didn’t know if it was from fear of dy*ng or the way his kiss invaded your entire being. From the moans it elicited from your throat, to the air it stole from your lungs, and the butterflies that rushed in your stomach. It was hard to tell if it really was just an earthquake or the mind-shattering truth that your enemy might not actually hate you at all.

Then it was over too soon. The air felt cold without him close to you and he was pulling you up from under the table.

“So we’re just not going to talk about it?” You asked, piercing the awkward silence.

Jess just shrugged and spoke casually, “talk about what?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, of course he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. But he had no right confusing you with a kiss after constantly making your life a living nightmare.

“Jess, you kissed me,” you deadpan, addressing the elephant in the room. “Coworkers don’t kiss other coworkers.”

“A lapse of judgment in a life-threatening situation,” he dismissed, keeping his eyes straight on the road.

Your mouth curled, the sweet aftertaste of his kisses turning sour. You fumed in silence as you looked outside the window with unfocused eyes. You weren’t sure what you were more upset about: his denial or your disappointment - having to face the horrid fact that you also didn’t hate your enemy.

“Shit, the road’s blocked,” Jess drew you out from the thunder of your thoughts as you looked at the cars lined up ahead. It was like a scene from one of those post-apocalyptic films you’ve seen and dread sank in your chest. Perhaps you should stick to watching cheesy rom coms because this pessimism was not helpful at all.

“Can we go somewhere else?” You whispered softly, anxiety bearing down your chest.

Jess looked at you with concern. “Sure, let’s find somewhere we can park until things get better,” he replied with an equally soft tone and you hated it because he knew all about your anxiety and penchant for panic attacks. You didn’t like being weak around him, not if he could be sweet and caring only to take it all back when you’re fine.

He parked the car in between buildings, sheltered from the wails of emergency response vehicles and the rush of people trying to go home. You exhaled after going through rounds of breathing exercises to calm your anxiety.

“My my, a secluded alley. Jess Mariano, whatever do you plan to do with me?” You quipped, mildly accusing him or m*rder when the other meaning dawned on you, something that made you blush. Well, it was too late to back out now.

He smirked, “whose to say you’re not the one who wants to do things with me with that line of questioning, huh?”

“I wouldn’t do anything if I was the only one who liked it,” you hedged. Perhaps life was too short to keep denying your feelings. If there was ever a better time to learn that lesson, it was now. You just needed him to admit he felt it too.

“I don’t like the idea of being k*lled, thanks,” he scoffed as he plastered on a smug smile.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you looked outside the window, an idea forming in your head.

“It sure is getting hot,” you comment innocently as you undid the top buttons of your blouse. Jess’ eyes followed your movement and you don’t miss the way his breath hitches.

“Better get comfortable, right?” You said, adjusting the car seat to lean back and you felt your blouse open slightly to reveal your cleavage. You were not going to make it easy for him to deny his feelings.

“Stop that,” Jess demanded while his eyes told a different tale of desire and longing.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied lazily. Two can play that game.

That’s right Jess, you thought, here’s a dose of your medicine. You continued, “this is much better.” You leaned your head back and stretched on the seat, aware of how your skirt inched up your legs.

You let out a satisfied moan, sighing in pleasure at thoughts of getting comfortable. If by comfort, you meant the satisfaction of derailing Jess’ denial and stubbornness. His eyes traced your legs then followed your chest when they rose and fell with your sigh. 

Jess grunted and you bit back a smile. “Okay, fine. So I kissed you,” he admitted.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “You said it meant nothing, so why would it matter?”

“I never said it meant nothing, I said it was a it was a lapse of judgment.”

“There’s a difference?” You raised your eyebrow, challenging him to continue.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he steeled himself. To Jess Mariano, telling the truth meant peeling back the layers of his sarcasm, which was as painful as stripping off his skin.

“You know when they say the world is about to end, you’d think your life flashes before your eyes. But all I could see was you. And it wasn’t just because you were in front of me. God, I closed my eyes, and all I could see was still you. Laughing at your own jokes, greeting everyone with a smile, typing away on your computer. It would be such a shame if I didn’t get to kiss you if that was the last thing I’d ever do, damn it. But then the earthquake stopped and we were fine.”

Your eyebrows creased as you let his words sink in. “Is it really so bad that we survived?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “I don’t think I could ever survive you. You frustrate me because you’re just so…you! You’re not someone I could just kiss once and get out of my system. I’d always want more and then I’d inevitably screw it up. It was better that you hated me from the start.”

His eyes burned with untold stories of heartbreak and self destruction. Despite all the ways he infuriated you, you wanted nothing more than to hold him. You had a feeling you were just seeing who he truly was beneath his smug smiles and his devil-may-care attitude.

“Jess, I don’t hate you,” you confess. “Don’t just make it one kiss,” you continue, allowing yourself to be just as honest as him. “Have another one, and another, and heck - have all of me!”

He looked at you in disbelief, as if he wished for the stars and he was told he could have the whole damn galaxy. A spark of joy and hope ignited something wild in him that he no longer let himself think of past regrets and mistakes.

He inched towards you, looking into your eyes for permission and you bridged the distance in response, kissing him. It was fiercer than when you both thought you were on the brink of de*th, because this time, it was a celebration of life and the possibilities that lay ahead.

You felt it when he sucked on your bottom lip and you moaned in pleasure, a small sound for all the words you couldn’t say. How all those time spent hating him was just a shield from your admiration of the man who took destiny in his own hands and never let the world define him.

The man who wrote stories and downplayed them through luck and how ink fumes must have altered his publisher’s minds to pick him. He never once acknowledged his talent, but secretly you did with the way you underlined your favorite sentences and re-read his book as if his words could wrap you in a sweet embrace.

He always kept you at an arm’s length and made your life hell, but it was heaven just being beside him. And you never dared to admit it. Until now, when he’s unbuttoning your blouse as he unravels your secrets. His mouth moves to your neck, setting your body on fire.

“Wait, what if someone sees us?” You ask, a wave of sobriety washing over you.

Jess just smirked, his lips pink and swollen, hungry for more of your kisses. “That’s half the fun.”

You rolled your eyes but god - you needed him. “And the other half?” You asked, mirroring his smirk.

“This,” he just says as he resumes your kiss.

It’s agony when you pull away again just to alleviate your anxiety, “can we at least go to the back?” It’s not much, but it’s better than being right by the windshield.

“Spacious,” he nods, moving away so you could climb over to the backseat. You felt the heat of his stare behind you as you settled in. 

He promptly followed suit until your bodies are tangled again with him laying you down the seat, careful so you don’t hit your head. You bring your hand to his stupid hair and run your fingers through it. His hands return to your blouse and your back arches on instinct when he unclasps your bra and he takes a moment to look at you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes as he squeezes your breast while he licks the other, planting soft tender kisses.

In his car, the sirens and chaos faded. You were consumed by Jess’ touch, both curious and possessive at the same time. His free hand traveling down your leg as he caressed it, slowly making his way to your inner thigh. You can’t help the way you squirmed beneath him as you held your breath in anticipation. In response, you palm his erection beneath his uncomfortably tight jeans and you’re rewarded with a grunt.

He teased you through your panties and you open your legs for him as he moves the thin fabric aside to feel your soft folds. You bite your lip and try to stifle your moan, but Jess brings his mouth to your ear, “I need to hear you, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” You cursed in response, your mind swimming in a haze of euphoria.

His fingers send shockwaves of pleasure as he spreads your liquid heat, exploring your folds and paying attention to which sensations left you whimpering. He exploited them skillfully, rubbing and teasing, eager to make you a moaning mess for him. You gasped when he plunged his fingers inside you and you arched your back, needing him deeper.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he admires as he pumped his fingers in and out. You moved your hips against his hand, needing more of him. He was finally here, doing things you used to just dream about, secrets stashed beneath soft covers in your moonlit bedroom.

“Jess, please. I need to feel all of you,” you begged and his eyes darkened.

“I’m all yours,” he replied as he removed his fingers and cleaned them off with his tongue. “Fuck you taste so good.” 

You helped him free his hard length and you don’t stifle the needy moan that escapes you this time when he fills you up. He takes a few slow movements before building up to a steady pace, the delicious friction making your toes curl. “You feel amazing, Jess,” you tell him.

He kissed you as he rocked his hips into you, a clash of teeth and tongue. There was nothing gentle in the way you moved against each other, it was pure want and longing crashing into each other. It was months of fantasies finally coming true and desires unleashed building in your core.

The car moved along with you, giving you extra leverage to find your rhythm. The irony was not lost on you that as the world shook around you once again, things were falling into place this time.

Filthy, desperate whimpers escaped his lips and you spread your legs wider, needing him deeper inside you. He squeezed your breast in response and teased your taut nipples, eager to worship all of you. You closed your eyes when you felt yourself teetering on the edge.

“Look at me,” Jess tells you instead and so you do. You see the lust and passion in his eyes and it’s enough to unravel you. Little earthquakes of ecstasy erupt through you as you shuddered against him. He increases his pace, eager to coax every last aftershock of your orgasm. It doesn’t take long before you feel his release warming your insides. He rests his head in the crook of your neck as he recovers his breath.

When he pulls out, you swipe his spilled seed from your leg and bring it in your mouth, enjoying the salty taste. “Fuck you’re so hot,” Jess breathes out. 

You grin. “So this happened. You gonna deny it?” You challenged him as he held you.

“Nope,” he said with a grin. “This happened. You’re mine and I’m yours. No take backs.”

“No take backs,” you echoed as you leaned in for another kiss.

It was perfect. The world could end at that moment and you would not mind at all.

Still you were glad to stay alive. Because then, you could always go another round, and another. So it goes.

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Jess Mariano Masterlist

#jess mariano smut #jess mariano x you #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano fluff #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano #gilmore girls #amongemeraldcloudswrites

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Glynda: “You’re back. And the beast?”

Jaune: “Monster is slain. Bangarang.” *snaps his fingers so that he ends up pointing distantly at the ground*

Glynda: “You look tired. You should get some rest.”

Jaune: “Can’t. I have to help team CMAD with their serial killer mission."

Glynda: “Why?”

Jaune: “Why do I have to help them or what help do I have to give?”

Glynda: “Well, both at once I suppose.”

Jaune: “The killer came up into my network about a week ago. It’s sort of my responsibility to keep an eye out for people like this.”

Glynda: “Your network?”

Jaune: “My criminal contacts in the city. I have the name and semblance of the killer.”

Glynda: “That’s most useful.”

Jaune: “That’s what I strive for. I wake up everyday and say ‘oh, if only I could be most useful today.’”

Glynda: *narrows her eyes then offers a dismissive half shrug*"Ozpin often wished to be able to tap into those elements for this very reason but couldn’t figure out how to get started. I mean, it’s nice to say you want to build trust and contacts like that and quite another to go out and succeed at it.”

Jaune: “They want you to kill people for them sometimes. And sometimes you have to kill some people just to put the fear in ‘em. Or torture people. Whatever.”

Glynda: “Should you be telling me this?”

Jaune: “I mean, what are you gonna do about it? What is anybody gonna do about it? Besides, I thought it was ‘most useful.’”

Glynda: “Maybe not what you have to give up to make it happen. That’s perhaps why Ozpin never succeeded.”

Jaune: “You have to have a hard stomach. And at any rate I need to be able to see my sisters coming or, god forbid I even say this, my Mother? Could you imagine her rolling up on us?”

Glynda: “I don’t really want to. Would she?” 

Jaune: “She mostly acts through intermediaries when she can. I can… feel her? Her location? All the time. So I’d know if she was moving around at all. Instead she just hangs out on one of the kingdomless continents. Ayan. So she stays far away from any kingdom and acts from the shadows.”

Glynda: “I don’t know how concerning that is. How concerned should I be?”

Jaune: “Somewhere between one and ten. Depending on how much thought you want to give it. Just don’t think about it very much. That’s what I do. And I’m… mostly fine?”

Glynda: *shakes her head at him. Gentle but firm denial* 

Jaune: “Well, I’m as ‘okay’ as could be expected?”

Glynda: “I don’t think so."

Jaune: “Exactly how ‘okay’ am I supposed to be?” 

Glynda: “Well ideally with a one being the worst and a ten being the best you’d be at a ten, Jaune."

Jaune: “I’m like a five. A hard five. That passes muster.”

Glynda: “A hard five which way?” 

Jaune: “Yeah, fair cop. Good point.”

Glynda: “I wasn’t even making a point."

Jaune: “Well you made it anyway."

Glynda: "Go to bed, Jaune. Your serial killer can wait. What? Are you excited to add to your little collection?”

Jaune: “Am I more or less messed up if I say ‘yes?’” 

Glynda: “You’re just a mixed up kid.”

Jaune: “I mean… yeah. I knew that. But am I more or less fucked if I say I want to add her sniper rifle to my collection?”

Glynda: “You know her weapon?”

Jaune: “Answer the question.”

Glynda: “I… I would say that you’re more mixed up than less. Not everyone has a collection of weapons from serial killers they’ve stopped. Not everyone thinks about adding to it. You are more mixed up than not. You’ve got to really be at least a four out of ten. Admit that to me.”

Jaune: “It’s really probably at most a three.”

Glynda: “Go to bed.”

Jaune: “I’ll go to bed. After I send team CMAD my dossier so they're not going in blind. I think she’s too dangerous for them or hee police to take on. If they find her, sure, good enough. But I really don’t think they should fight her.”

Glynda: “You can’t coddle them.”

Jaune: “I’m tryin’ not to but there’s a serial killer on the loose and they have some real power.”

Glynda: “What about you?”  

Jaune: “What about me?”

Glynda: "You’re a serial killer serial killer.” 

Jaune: “What? I’m not a… serial killer.”

Glynda: “Don’t emphasize ‘serial.’ It doesn’t do anyone any favors.”

Jaune: “Mass murderer? Sure. Spree killer? Probably. But I don’t do it for psychological gratification.”

Glynda: “Don’t emphasis ‘psychological!’ You need to find a sweet girl to look after you. Help put you back together. If you even like girls that is. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

Jaune: “I like girls. I’ve got team RWBY.”

Glynda: “They’re not here. What’s wrong with Miss Gainsborough?”

Jaune: “You mean besides the fact she’s my student? Off limits, remember? Besides, she’s seen a little into how fucked I am and probably shouldn’t want any of that mess.”

Glynda: “What if she does anyway?” 

Jaune: “I think I would know by now? I'd like to believe I would. But I don't really understand girls. Just throw me at a monster or serial killer or something and let me worry about that. Girls are complicated and hard and complicated."

Glynda: "Not really."

Jaune: "Girls like games and hints and teasing around."

Glynda: "Do you think I'd play games?"

Jaune: "I think you're probably an exception and not the rule. You and Weiss both."

Glynda: "Miss Schnee?"

Jaune: "Yeah. I mean, I think so. She doesn't like games or hints or playing around with her feelings either. I think that's why she barely tolerated me when we went to school here."

Glynda: "You were attracted to her? In your time as a student?"

Jaune: "Still am. That hasn't really changed. She was my first real crush. I had fake memories of crushes before that but I really woke up for the first time at Beacon after I was set loose. And then I met Weiss. Beautiful. Smart. Way out of my league. We're not even playing the same ball game." I ran a hand through my hair and felt the grime there. 

Glynda: "Good for you." 

Jaune: "Why?"

Glynda: "I think that's healthy. I'd be a shade more concerned if you really weren't attracted to anybody and you had nothing to strive for. Not that there's anything wrong with being asexual. But it's important to have personal goals for yourself and not just professional ones."

Jaune: "I'd love to impress her. Still. I'm just not really sure how. You know? In her time as the heiress or whatever she probably had all sorts of guys appeal to her so she's pretty much seen it all. I have no moves to make that she hasn't seen somebody else do better than I can. And I doubt my little collection of mass murderer trophies would make her stop and think in a good way."

Glynda: "Have you tried not appealing to her at all. Maybe you should just be honest with yourself and her and let your personality impress her."

Jaune: "I'm a schizoaffective loser."

Glynda: "You're not a loser just because you're schizoaffective."

Jaune: "I know that. I’m not stupid. I have totally separate reasons for why I'm a loser. I'm not funny and my personality isn't particularly pleasant to be around."

Glynda: "You have charm. You can be funny. Not exactly cracking jokes or something similar but you have a certain dry humor. Use that to impress her. Plus you've become surprisingly competent."

Jaune: "Well, thanks. I'll just use all those assets when I see her again and blow her away. Anyways. I'm safe. I'm back. My mission was a success and I thought you'd like to know that." I pulled my scroll from my side pocket and started tapping away and putting together what information I had on Cerise Genfield for CMAD. "Let's see if we can't wrangle ourselves up a serial killer. Yee-haw. I always did love outlaw justice. It's super fake. And it's basically all the murder with none of the guilt ."

Glynda: "Do you really think that?"

Jaune: "A little."

Glynda: "Go to sleep. Let the police and team CMAD track her down."

Jaune: "I hear you. I'm off to bed." 

#glynda goodwitch #rwby #rwby incorrect quotes #jaune arc #weiss schnee #whiteknight #white knight #motion sickness