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bluesidez · 3 days

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Firefighter!Miguel Part 2

content warning: the urge to use AAVE was slipping through the nerves of my fingers. I tried to hold off, so if you see something that looks grammatically different, then it’s probably AAVE that I couldn’t NOT add. this is all fluff too! there are also mentions of food, but that's a norm for these drabbles

word count: 2.2k, proofread! (I think there's no mistakes 😭)

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“Eileen! Is that you?!”

You internally groaned as your grandma hopped out of the motorized shopping cart to greet yet another person.

The trip to the grocery store to buy ingredients turned into a meet & greet with the star being your grandmother knowing everyone in the town.

You felt loopy, going from almost burning down your house to contemplating whether or not the hot fire captain would prefer yams or potato salad. Maybe both?

You grumbled to yourself as you scanned the aisle for a specific brand of cookies for some banana pudding. If all else fails, this was a dessert you could make with no oven.

“And now we’re here, trying to find this child something to cook with,” you heard your grandma fuss out. Why did your business have to be the topic of the conversation?

You turned and walked the short distance to your grandma and another woman who was….her old coworker? Her church member? Or maybe they went to school together….

“Good morning Ms. Eileen,” you say, thankful that you caught her name. You couldn’t keep up with everyone like your grandma.

“Is this the baby?!” she says, shocked eyes going from you to your grandma and back to you.

Your grandma nodded, a smile growing on her face.

“Child, I haven’t seen you since you were this little!” she says, holding her hand about 2 feet off the ground. She turns back to your grandma, “This can’t be the baby!”

You stand there with your lips in a line as you wait for the realization that at least two decades have gone by since you’ve last seen her.

Or more like since she’s seen you. You’re still trying to gather who she is.

“Yeah, this is my grandchild! All grown up and now we’re trying to win over a husband,” your grandma says, shaking your arm.

You wanted a hole to swallow you up or possibly grow some wings so that you could take flight. Anything to get out of this conversation.

“A husband?!” Ms. Eileen smiles mischievously. “Who are you trying to marry?”

“Uh-”

“Honey, this child got the Fire Chief ringing my doorbell!”

“He’s actually the Fire Captain-” you mumble, trying to get your two cents in

Ms. Eileen holds your hands and starts doing an excited bounce as she vocalizes her excitement.

“I need to get right then if we’re fixin’ to have a wedding!” she said, gesturing to her hair as if to fix it.

“It’ll be soon! Just wait and see!” your grandma says, putting her hands back on the handlebars of the car. “Let us go on and buy the rest of this stuff. We’ve got a lot to do. It was good to talk with you!”

Your grandma starts to move forward, somewhat ignoring Ms. Eileen as she started to open her mouth again.

“Leave me some of that food ok?” she calls out.

“If there’s any left, I’ll let you know!” your grandma says as she turns down the aisle.

You chase after her, waving to Ms. Eileen as you leave.

“Who was she again?” you ask as you two go down a new aisle.

“Eileen Wilkins from the school.” So she was a coworker! “She still doesn’t know how to stop talking, though.”

Your laugh sneaks out of you as you watch your grandma stop at some seasonings.

“Why do you say that? You were keeping the conversation up.”

“I was just being nice! It was fine until she started bragging about that granddaughter of hers. That girl doesn’t know her left from her right. How she make it to nursing school?”

“Maybe she’s a hard worker!” you respond.

Your grandma snorts, “Yeah. Working hard at paying somebody else to do her work.”

You just shake your head at your grandma. What are you going to do with this woman?

“Will you call the number already?”

“I don’t really want to do that,” you say, tapping your foot against the ground.

This would be the fourth station within the area that you called with no record of a "Captain O'Hara." You were starting to believe that you and your grandma made him up. Just a small figment of both of your imaginations. What your grandma saw as a suitor and what you saw as a hot guy just trying to do his job.

"You need to want to call," your grandma, responds. "We didn't get all of this food made for nothing. And you're wearing my good necklace! He won't know what hit him when sees you."

You both decided on soul food. Tin pans full of food for the entire crew from greens to mac to fried catfish. Then, there was a hefty styrofoam takeout plate made especially for him. Your banana pudding for him in a tupperware container with Nilla wafers patterned along the side.

Not to mention, you spent an unhealthy amount of time deciding which scent you should wear.

You looked infinitely better than you did when he last saw you with ingredients dusting your front and smoke coming out of your windows.

Still, it would all be for nothing if you couldn’t find his station.

While yon were staring off, your grandma tapped your phone, impatience riddling her frame.

“Grandma!” you shout, holding your phone as if it were a game of hot potato.

“Just ask if he’s there!” your grandma says.

“That’s not how this works-”

“Station 29, this is Captain O’Hara speaking.”

“Hi! Hello,” you turn back to the phone in a rush, embarrassed that he might have heard you and your grandma. You introduce yourself properly this time, saying that you wanted to bring some dinner down to the crew.

You hear a noise of shock as he starts to speak again, “That would be amazing actually. The crew was just trying to decide what to eat. When can we expect you?”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” you say, a little too quickly to be honest.

“Perfect. We’ll see you then!”

You end the call and look up to your grandma who’s staring at you with a small smile.

“Now you tell him to bring back my good tupperware,” she says, instantly switching back to her regular self.

You just shake your head. Grandmas will be grandmas.

“I’m just trying to get you a good man!” she fussed. “And that’s my good tupperware. He’ll hear from me until I get it back.”

“And who were you just on the phone with? You’re smiling real hard there.”

“Shut up Parker,” Miguel fired back. “And why are you even in here. Aren’t you supposed to be washing T29 right now?”

“I finished that an hour ago, thank you very much. You’re so touchy!”

Miguel got up and shuffled Peter out of his office, “I’m not touchy. You’re just irritating me like usual.”

“Oh my god? You do have someone you’re talking to,” Peter says as he digs his feet into the ground, stopping Miguel. “How come you didn’t tell me? Is it that lady with the tree-loving cat? No! It’s the guy whose dog keeps getting stuck in the wall! There’s a theme here.”

“No, I’m not- Will you move? I’m not dating anyone with daredevil pets,” Miguel responded, trying to push Peter in a new spot.

“Cap is dating?” Ben asks as he walks by the two bickering like cats. “When can we see them?”

“I’m not dating-”

“Miguel! You didn’t tell me anything,” Jess says as she comes down the hallway.

“Why won’t you ever address me as Captain?”

“I will if you tell me who you’re dating,” she says with a smile on her face.

“I’m going to lose my mind,” Miguel mumbles, letting Peter fall to the ground instead of fighting him.

“Well if you weren’t talking to your lover, who was that?” he asks from the ground, the wind knocked out of him.

“While you all were slacking, I was making sure that everyone goes home with a full stomach. Remember the kitchen fire from earlier this week? They’re bringing some food for us.”

“Will it be safe to eat?” Ben says, eyes flittering to Jess nervously.

“It was a broken gas line, you idiot,” Jess says with her mouth turned sideways. “At least wait until the food is here before you judge it.”

“No way,” Peter says from the ground. “You put them in your lap and now they’re bringing you food.”

Miguel lightly kicks Peter in the thigh, making him scream out a scale of keys.

“That face gets so many people,” Jess sighs annoyingly.

Firefighter!Miguel who jogs out to the car when you arrive. No, he wasn’t watching the clock or his cameras. He just happened to see some movement in one of the security cameras.

He opens the door for you, helping you out of the car.

It’s like you’re a totally different person from the frantic little baker from earlier.

“Can you help me get the plates out of the trunk?” you say, voice barely reaching his ears with how soft you’re speaking.

“Of course,” he replies.

He manages to carry all four hot tins of food, leaving you with just two plastic bags to carry.

Firefighter!Miguel who places the tins on the table with ease.

“Is there anything else?” Peter asks, walking up to his side.

“No, I think this was all of the tins,” Miguel replied with his hands on his hips.

“Show off,” Peter whispers with a smile on his face. He patted his shoulder and walked towards the entrance.

Miguel blushed, realizing how that might have read to you.

Firefighter!Miguel whose eyebrows raise as you hold him back from getting in line, a plastic bag aimed towards him.

“I made you a separate plate. You were especially kind to me and I wanted to show my appreciation,” you say with a smile on your face.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the bag. “Should I give you the verdict?”

Your heart beats faster, watching his pretty face light up. You nod your head, hopeful that he’ll love the food.

Firefighter!Miguel who has you sit next to him at the table. The crew is quiet for once. Nothing but smacks and the shuffling of cups could be heard.

“Don’t be rude, guys. Say thanks,” Miguel chides at his crew.

At the sound of his voice, everyone starts thanking you profusely.

Miguel starts to open his bag and you feel like you could break out in a sweat.

You watch as he opens the plate and his eyes go big.

“Hey, how come he gets the extra stuff?” Ben whines from the end of the table.

Jess elbows him to shut him up, eyes throwing daggers.

You may or may not have added some fried chicken and potato salad to his plate.

You wait anxiously as he takes a bite.

Is it weird that you counted the seconds as he chewed?

“Damn, that’s good,” he says, leaning back in his chair.

If everyone could hear your thoughts, they’d truly be terrified at the screams going on right now.

“You like it?” you ask, biting your lip.

“This might be the best food I’ve had in a while,” he replies back. “Thank you!”

Your smile grows, watching as he tears away at his food. His laser focus doesn’t stop him from smacking Peter’s hand away from his banana pudding.

Firefighter!Miguel who walks you back to the car. Everyone was chatting and laughing at the table. The after-food glow on all of their faces.

“Everything was really delicious. Thank you for this. You didn’t have to,” he says as he opens your door.

“Stop, I really wanted to thank you guys. You all are the true heroes. Oh! And my grandma would really appreciate it if you brought her container back.”

Miguel chuckles, giving you that pretty smile of his. He looked so pretty that way. The black shirt he was sporting was hugging him just right too.

“Of course,” he responded. “We still have to check out your kitchen too, yeah?”

You nod, shocked that he remembered.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you my number and we can work that out tomorrow.”

He hands you a card, writing down what you assume is his personal number. As he hands the card to you, your heart picks up as his fingers graze yours.

“I’ll see you then,” he says, waiting for you to get in your car before he closes it. He taps the hood and walks backwards, watching as you back out of the driveway.

You give him a little wave and squeal to yourself when gives a hearty one back.

Firefighter!Miguel who is hounded by his crew when he gets back inside.

Some of them are making kissy faces and the others are patting his back in encouragement.

“Would you all get back to work?” he sighed, annoyed at all of the attention.

He moved fast to his office, face in flames.

Firefighter!Miguel who groans out when he scoops some banana pudding in his mouth.

You were good. Really good.

He makes an angry face as he takes another bite, “My god.”

“Oo, they got you real good,” Jess snickers as she steals a bite of his dessert.

“Hey!” he said, moving too late to stop her.

She laughs as she runs from his office. Miguel gets up and locks the door, making sure that no one else could steal his food.

It was specifically made for him, after all.

divider by: @dollywons + @starzyyy1 ❤️‍🔥

a/n: Special thanks to @slushycoookie for giving me ideas! It was brilliant and much needed ☺️

If you want to be on the taglist, sign up here!

taglist: @snails-doodles22 @xerorizz @questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003

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reiding-writing · 1 day

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Hi congrats on the Milestone, for the event can i ask for prompts 15 and 16 (angsty ones) Ty! 💖💖

EAVESDROP [CLIMACTERIC]

/ˈiːvzdrɒp/

15. "You heard that?”

16. "I didn't mean it.”

WARNINGS: miscommunication (i hate and love miscommunication way too much), happy ending

spencer reid x gn!reader || fluff || 3.0k || event masterlist!!

a/n: when i said that these were going to be coming out slower i unfortunately meant it 😭 didn’t help that i had massive writer’s block with this one either rip—

main masterlist!!

You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You just happened to get to the office early that morning and figured it’d be an opportune time to make yourself some coffee.

But once you heard your name in the mix of the conversation that Spencer and Morgan were having you found yourself waiting around the corner until they finished what they had to say.

“—should just ask,”

“That’s awkward, besides, if I was going to then it’d have to be something more meaningful,” You can hear Spencer sigh in exasperation as he shuts down Morgan’s suggestion, and your imagination tells you he probably has his face furrowed almost in a pout like he usually does when he’s frustrated.

“Then plan something, you can’t just wait for something to happen, you have to take action man,” Morgan sounds determined in his beliefs, and it leaves you with a furrowed expression as you try and piece together what they’re talking about and how it relates back to you.

Spencer wants to ask you something. In a ‘meaningful’ way. Because he’s been sitting around waiting for something for too long.

What?

“I know that,” Spencer lets out another sigh, and you can hear the sound of his mug hitting the kitchenette counter. “I’m just afraid that they’re going to turn me down, okay? I really like them and I want this to go well,”

If their conversation was a tv show you would’ve rewound it to hear what Spencer just said again.

Spencer Reid. Dr Spencer Walter Reid just openly admitted to liking you.

There’s a major part of your brain that tells you that he just meant it platonically, that he just really valued your friendship and didn’t want to ruin it by asking you whatever he was going to.

And then there was another part of your brain telling you that that was complete bullshit, because what kind of question could possibly be so bad that it would mean you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore?

It had to be something inherently romantic, or Spencer’s concerns wouldn’t make any logical sense, which was a very off brand thing for him.

“It’ll never ‘go well’ if you don’t actually ask,”

The small flutter in your heart only proves to increase at Morgan’s reply, and if you were an actual part of the conversation you’d agree with him.

You wanted Spencer to ask you whatever was plaguing his mind, whether it be to take you on a date somewhere or even if it’s just to get lunch with him on your shared break. Any step forward was a step in the right direction, and you wanted that next step.

He doesn’t.

The whole day goes by without a single peep from Spencer in relation to his little pep talk with Morgan in the morning, and it was beginning to frustrate you just a little.

Of course you wouldn’t actually be frustrated if you hadn’t overheard the conversation they were having, but that wasn’t your fault. It was like the fates were trying to bring you together.

And you were letting them drag you in whatever direction they deemed fit.

“Hey Spencer!” You catch him right as he steps into the elevator, and he sticks out a hand over the motion sensor to keep the door open for you.

“Hey,” Spencer gives you a small, awkwardly endearing smile as you join him inside the elevator, retracting his hand to grip the strap of his messenger bag.

“Thanks,” You let out a stuttered exhale as you catch your breath from the mild jog you made to reach the door, pulling on the shoulders of your shirt to straighten it back out.

“No problem,” He gives you another small smile, and then the conversation falls silent, the sound of the doors opening as the two of you reach the ground level being the only thing to break the stillness of your joined company.

You couldn’t really tel whether the lack of conversation was awkward or not, but you did know that the longer you were in his sole company the more that you wanted to oust your knowledge of his earlier conversation with Morgan, to the point where you were rehearsing how to bring it up in your head.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Spencer gives you a small wave as the two of you step out of the elevator and into the covered parking lot, stuffing his hands into his pockets and turning around to walk away before you can reply.

You swear you catch the tiniest glimpse of him mouthing something to himself with a furrowed expression as he turns around, like he’s berating himself for something, and your brain decides that it’s the perfect time to just go for it, his name tumbling out of your mouth to no consciousness of your own.

“Spencer—”

He turns around at your call and your throat goes dry, your impulsiveness biting you right in the ass as you lose your confidence immediately under his gaze. “Yeah?”

“You… uh-” You watch as his eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion, and you clear your throat to throw your inhibitions out the window. You couldn’t just not tell him now. “I overheard the conversation you were having this morning with Morgan, the uh… the one about me?”

You can practically see the colour drain from his face at your admission, and it immediately makes you regret bringing it up. He wasn’t ready yet.

“You-” He lets out a sharp exhale through his mouth, tugging at the strap of his back awkwardly. “You heard that?”

You give him a small guilty nod with your lips pressed together, and he sucks in a breath like he’s forgotten how to breathe. “How much of it did you hear..?”

“About… three quarters of it,”

He shuts his eyes, head dropping until the hair framing his face catches against his eyelashes.

Of course you’d heard it all. Because him stumbling over himself over how to properly approach you to Morgan wasn’t humiliating enough.

No, you just had to be there to hear it.

There went any minuscule chance he had of actually managing to build something with you. You probably thought he was some weirdo who had some stalkerish fantasy of you.

“Spencer—”

“I didn’t mean it.” Your attempt at elaborating was very quickly short lived as he cuts you off.

“I- What?”

“I didn’t- I was just saying that to get Morgan off my back about not dating anyone,” Spencer knows he’s speaking straight out of his ass, but it’s the only thing that he can think of to say to possibly salvage a fraction of your friendship with him without making everything weird. “I didn’t actually mean any of it-”

There’s a small pause, silence flooding the space between you until you feel like you’re drowning in it.

“Oh,” There’s a split second where the astonishment shows across your face, and Spencer swears he catches a glimpse of disappointment in your irises before it’s covered up with something else. “Right- Yeah no that makes sense he can be quite annoying about that stuff can’t he?”

He gives a pathetic laugh at your response. “Yeah…”

“Well I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then…” There’s no mistaking the awkward tension between the two of you as you rifle in your pocket for your car keys.

“Yeah… See you tomorrow…”

—

“I messed up. I messed up really bad.” Morgan barely has time to leave the elevator before Spencer is practically dragging him into the conference room to speak to him privately, without any chance of their conversation being heard.

“Well good morning to you too boy genius,”

“I’m serious Morgan, this is really bad-” Spencer’s face conveys absolute desperation, almost bordering patheticness from just how rifled he seems.

“Okay okay damn,” Morgan raises his arms in surrender, a silent vow to take Spencer’s worries seriously.

“They overheard our conversation, the one about me being afraid to ask them out.” Spencer sighs in absolute indignation, taking a hand through his hair with an expression like his doctor just told him he wasn’t going to wake up tomorrow morning.

“Oh-” Morgan’s eyes widen slightly at Spencer’s confession, straightening up and furrowing his eyebrows. “And?”

“And I told them that I was just saying I wanted to ask them out to get you off my back about dating-”

Morgan’s shoulders drop, and he narrows his eyes slightly in a mix of confusion and absolute astoundment that he would fumble the bag that hard. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want things to get awkward, but when they walked into the office this morning they didn’t even say good morning and we’ve been sat in a stalemate for almost ten minutes which suggests that they didn’t believe what I said and I did make it awkward and-”

“Reid-” Morgan holds up a hand to stop Spencer’s rambling mid-sentence. “Slow your roll a minute, what actually happened?”

“They caught me on the way out of the elevator to the parking lot yesterday and told me that they overheard our conversation,” Spencer drags his hand down his face in exasperation. “And I panicked and said that I didn’t mean it and that it was just to get you to stop asking me about my dating life, so that it wouldn’t make our friendship awkward…”

He exhales heavily, leaning his body weight against the conference table in defeat. “But I don’t think they believed me, and now they’re acting like I’m a stranger to them and I don’t know what to do,”

“Right… Okay,” Morgan takes a few seconds to take in the information through furrowed eyebrows. “And you’re sure it’s because they don’t believe you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It was Spencer’s turn to furrows his features at Morgan’s response. What else could it possibly be to do with?

“Look, I’m not going to say anything, but you need to come clean and talk to them, right now.”

“What—” Spencer barely gets the question out of his mouth before Morgan is leaving his side to open the door of the conference room and yelling your name across the bullpen to bring you over.

“What are you doing?” Spencer Whisper-yells through his teeth as he watches you approach from over Morgan’s shoulder, and he watches the way your curiosity turns to begrudgement as you realise that Morgan wasn’t the only one there.

You literally fizzled out after realising that Spencer was there, what else was he supposed to think?

“You two need to have a conversation,” Morgan points between the two of you before tugging you into the room by your forearm. “I am going to stand outside that door and you are not allowed to leave until you’ve spoken to each other properly, no bullshit. You hear me?”

It feels like you and Spencer are two five year olds as Morgan looks between you, but you both nod stuntedly either way, and true to his word, Morgan leaves the room and leans his weight against the closed door so you can’t push it open to leave.

“So…”

“So-”

The tension between the two of you is palpable as you both try to start the conversation at the same time, but the fact that you were so similar in your awkward attempts at breaking the silence makes you laugh a little, which in turn makes Spencer laugh as well.

It was a little silly, but you were both glad for the break in the stalemate you’d put yourselves in, even if just for that moment before you found yourselves surrounded by silence once more, albeit a slightly more comfortable one.

“Well… Uh…”

“I’m sorry I assumed you liked me, romantically I mean,” You cut off Spencer’s awkward attempt at breaking the silence with your own blurted excuse. “I didn’t mean to make things awkward between us I just thought—” You cut yourself short before you can finish to save yourself from your own embarrassment.

Spencer can only blink at your apology.

“I— What?”

“When I cornered you in the parking lot yesterday, I should’ve known it was just Morgan bothering you, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” You clasp your hands behind your back, nervously wringing your hands together.

So it wasn’t because you didn’t believe him. You did. And you looked… upset about it? Dejected maybe? Spencer couldn’t be quite sure, but whatever emotion you were displaying it wasn’t something objectively positive.

“I— You didn’t—” Spencer exhales heavily through his mouth, clenching his hands into fists as he internally fights with himself over whether to just spit it out and get it over with.

‘You need to come clean’.

Morgan sounded extremely assured in his statement when he directed Spencer earlier, like he knew what the outcome was going to be.

It wasn’t a case of ‘come clean because the truth is better than lying’, it was a ‘come clean because whatever happens afterwards isn’t going to be negative’.

“I lied to you,”

Spencer’s brain always worked faster than his body, but apparently he’d managed to override his own instincts and let his mouth make the decision for him before he could think through all of the possible consequences.

“…What?” The traces of disappointment in your eyes are diluted by a mix of surprise and confusion as you turn them up to his, and Spencer feels his throat dry out almost immediately.

“I wasn’t trying to get Morgan off my back, I…” Spencer lets out another small sigh. “I really was asking him for advice, I… I really like you, a lot, and I just didn’t know how to tell you without ruining our friendship so Morgan was trying to help,” He lets out a small laugh, his fingers raking through his hair animatedly as he laments his own patheticness. “It didn’t go very well, clearly,”

There’s a small pause after his confession, the silence settling in Spencer’s chest and making him feel nauseous as he waits for a sign of how you’re going to respond.

The blankness on your face isn’t very reassuring.

“You’re being serious?”

“…mhm…” Practically all of the conviction in Spencer’s tone disappears at your question, and he half-wishes that he could travel back in time so this conversation never happened.

“I like you too Spencer,”

“I underst—” Spencer lowers his head as he dejectedly accepts your rejection. Except it’s not a rejection. “What?”

“I like you too,” You repeat yourself with determination, your eyes practically boring holes into his, and he swears he can feel his knees trying to buckle underneath him.

“You uh… Really?” Spencer blinks at you like a deer in headlights, his genius brain seemingly unable to comprehend how the conversation, one Spencer was sure would end in your rejection and end with the two of you as practical strangers, somehow turned into this.

You give him a firm nod. “I’d like to go out with you Spencer, on a date, anywhere you like,” Your confidence starkly contrasts his shattered composure as you give him your proposal like you’re presenting in a board meeting. Although he’s sure it’s almost entirely feigned, and the way you fiddle with your fingers is evidence enough of his theory. “Please?”

There’s a tinge of desperation in your tone as you add your small plea at the end, and it makes Spencer realise that he’s just blankly staring at you.

“I— Yes— Yes I’d love to go on a date with you Uh—” Spencer thoroughly stumbles over his words in his rush to wipe the traces of doubt in your features. “I’d really like that…”

“Good— Good,” You let out a short laugh of relief at his answer, and he echoes it with your own as you stand in a shared dome of fluster together.

“Do you want to get lunch? Uh, together?” The way Spencer phrases the question was like a middle schooler trying to ask out their crush rather than a grown man, but it only makes the sentiment more endearing.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Your answer is joined by a soft laugh that echoes from the back of your throat, and it makes Spencer’s heart flutter.

“Okay,” Spencer returns your chuckle with his own, gesturing curtiously towards the closed door like a true gentleman, and you have to suppress the urge to stamp a kiss against his pink cheeks as you pass him to push it open.

There’s less resistance than there should be as you push it open, with Morgan decidedly having left the two of you to your own devices to return to his desk without either of you realising.

He shoots the two of you a wink and a thumbs up as you walk down the stairs, and Spencer’s cheeks turn a slightly darker shade of red at the ‘unfortunate’ realisation that he’s due in for a whole load of jests and teases from him going forward.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #mgg #climacteric 🪶

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xxnghtclls · 2 days

Text

Pond and Poetry

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Permission Universe ❤️

Rating: Mature

Wordcount: 1,358

Fluff! Flirt and a little bit of dirty talk… Soft Sukuna all the way tho.

Summary: Sukuna meets you in the garden, while you’re busy playing with Kois. And then you flirt. Just flirt. I got some Permission feels recently so I couldn’t resist to write this.

—

Warm sun on your skin and green grass beneath your figure, as you lay in front of the pond. Spring is here, the air is not cold and not warm, perfectly balanced by cold breezes and the warmth of the sun. Cherry blossoms start to bloom and small little wild flowers poke their head out of the ground.

Colourful Kois are swimming quietly in circles. Back and forth and left and right.

And you watch them with a thoughtful smile on your face, while you let the sun warm your figure. The sight reminds you of the time, when you and Ak-

When you were watching the Kois together.

The kimono you’re wearing is heating up with each minute, coating you comfortably. Supporting your head on your right hand, you reach with your left one into the cold water.

Your finger dips in, an attempt to touch one of those big fishes, that sometimes disappear beneath the reflection of the sun.

However, this reflection is interrupted, as suddenly your tall King steps onto the bridge next to the pond. Without greeting him and now having a better look at the Kois, you manage to brush your skin against the smooth surface of their scales. Your eyes light up and you smile.

“Got you.” you whisper quietly, as you see the outlines of familiar spiky hair and a huge figure imprint a shadow on the water.

You blink and finally look up to your right, seeing Sukuna’s gentle eyes looking down at you, his head being propped up on his right upper arm, just like yours. He’s wearing his Hakama pants and black cloak, while he leans against the balustrade of the bridge. He cocks his eyebrow at you.

“Childish brat.” he teases, flashing his teeth into a smirk. You huff, before you stick your tongue out at him.

“Let me.” you mutter, before you turn back to the Kois, as you keep twirling your finger in the water.

He huffs at your response, as he keeps watching you.

“Join me.” you continue almost inaudible, as you wiggle up your feet and swing them back and forth.

No response.

Except a pull on your heart. And you know what’s up.

You sigh, before you retrieve your hand from the water and tap with your palm on the spot next to you.

Two times.

Tap.Tap.

“Come.” you say softly, still not looking at him.

And you can feel his eyes boring into your figure and how his shit eating grin eats you up, before you hear him shift. Sukuna’s naked feet move over the wooden bridge, then through the fresh grass, until they come to a halt at the spot you pat on with your hand.

Don’t look at him.

One of his hand brushes against your moving left ankle, before you feel his foot gently push against your hip.

You ignore him.

He huffs again.

Unbothered, you dip your finger back into the water.

Another attempt of touching those colourful scales.

With a soft breeze, you finally feel him crouching down next to you.

More.

He takes a strand of your hair, fiddling it between his fingers. You quietly retrieve your finger from the water again and reach behind you.

“Closer, my Love.” you mumble softly, as you get a hold of his cloak and pull. One, two times.

And you can feel his grin again. You know he’s just watching you, waiting with what you’re coming up next.

It’s amusing to him. Actually... for the both of you.

To your surprise however, he leans down. His teeth find the shell of your ear for a moment, before he lays down to your left, on his stomach, just like you.

“They’re your gift for me after all.” you say with a satisfied grin on your face, still not looking at him.

As long as he’s this mute, giggling hunk of a man, you would rather admire the fish... And you know it’s a lie.

You have to force yourself to keep looking at those Kois, because you can’t get enough of him. Still.

After all this time.

Because you are his and he is yours. For now and all eternity.

“What now?” he whispers quietly in your ear, his pretty nose presses against the side of your head, taking in the scent of you and your hair.

“You’ll get a kiss if you can touch one of them.” you nudge your head to the pond, before turning your head to finally look at him.

His expression slackens and his lip rises into a mix of a sneer and pout, before he rolls over onto his back and closes his eyes. It makes you snort.

But, you catch yourself, trying to suppress a laughter.

Behave.

You lean over and with the index finger of your right hand, you give him a poke on his bottom lip.

“A kiss on your lips then.” you say cheekily, as if you just upgraded your offer significantly, while you watch how the shadows of the trees and the light of the sun dance with each other upon his facial features.

He blinks his crimson orbs open, still holding his unamused expression, as he grabs your right wrist.

Too much?

You inhale.

“A kiss on my lips then?” a new offer, using a mature voice this time.

A pause.

And a breeze, while he contemplates your new offer. You watch Sukuna’s hair move from the breeze, before his lip twitches. He pulls you closer. Close enough, to let his lips slightly brush over yours.

“A kiss on your lips it is.” he breathes. “And a kiss on your cheeks. And...”

“And?” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“...the sound of your thighs.” he concludes, brushing his nose against yours. “And how they mute my ears.”

Oh.

Heat rushes to the cheeks in your face and to the lips between your legs.

Heartache.

“Maybe you should write poetry.” you cock your head to the side, trying to act over your embarrassment and arousal.

“Maybe I should.” Sukuna smirks quietly in response, as his eyes pierce through you.

God.

You chew on your lip, as you lean back into your previous position and turn back to watch the fish in the water.

“There.” you dip your left finger back into the cold, as you watch him in the corner of your eyes, how he rolls back over on his stomach, leaving the black cloak laying in the grass.

Sukuna reaches for the water too, but his finger brushes over your hand first.

So gentle. So slow.

His touch feels electrifying, sending a feeling of home and love through your whole body.

Those fingers that killed many men and women and children. Those fingers that did such cruelty.

So soft against your skin. You focus and watch his hand closely.

And your heart starts racing.

His index finger follows the line of your hand, along your own finger and finally dips into the water as well. Sukuna’s hand stays resting upon yours, as you both slowly circle your fingers in the water.

It almost drives you insane.

The Kois keep dancing around your limbs, coming closer, swimming away again.

Sukuna quietly guides your hand closer to one of them. A gentle vibration flows through your hand and you notice how the fish grows slower in its movement.

Careful.

Your fingers brush against the scales. In unity. Along the whole length of the fish. “Got you.” he whispers against your hair, sending shivers through your whole body.

Sukuna then guides your whole hand underwater and turns it upside down, making it able for you to even hold the Koi for a few seconds, until it swims away again.

Your eyes light up again, as your heart is beating in your chest. And Sukuna pulls on it.

“Use me as your canvas.” you whisper, your voice almost trembling, wetness rising between your thighs, before you look back at him and his eyes falls to your lips.

“I will.” he stares and you stare back at his wrinkly eyes, before he leans closer. “Gonna write my poetry all over your body.”

—

lmk if you want to read how Sukuna’s poetry looks like ✌️

#sukuna #true form sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #nighty writes #drabbles #permission #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #true form sukuna smut #one shot

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spencerreidswifey-13 · 2 days

Text

The Locket

You and Spencer had been working together forever, had known each-other so long you felt closer to him than your own relatives. You knew you loved him, he knew he loved you; so what was the problem?

The problem was neither of you guys were brave enough to say it out loud, afraid the other might not reciprocate.

Whenever Hotch gave orders you always made sure to pair up with him, whenever the team was laughing he was the first person you would look at. You always had your mind on him. So when Hotch needed you to pick a person to find an old file with you, you jumped at the opportunity to spend time with Spencer alone.

“Hey y/n, so we’re looking for the Booker case?” Spencer said as you were walking down the hall into the filing room.

“Yup, the ‘67 one. That’s if we can find it though.” You laugh wryly and Spencer gives you a tight lipped smile in response.

You walk into the room and he shuts the door behind you, Spencer immediately goes to find the shelves that hold the cases from the 60’s (not sure if that’s how the FBI actually organizes it but just go with it). You just watched as his beautiful hands gloss over the labels, his shiny brown hair falling over his eyes.

“Well I think this is going to be harder than I thought. I can’t find it I…I don’t know where else it would be.” He said.

“We’ll find it, its gotta be somewhere here. Maybe it was labelled wrong?” You got a light “hmph” from Spencer. You continued looking.

It had been almost an hour and a half of looking through old boxes. Files were scattered all over the floor and you were starting to get tired and overwhelmed, you could tell Spencer was getting frustrated.

“This is dumb and I’m getting coffee, want something?” You asked.

“No that’s okay, no one gets my copious amounts of sugar right.” He laughes then rubs his eyes and continues pouring over files.

You kept looking, taking occasional breaks and having deep conversations ranging anywhere from star trek to is-there-a-god?

He loved talking to you

You came back ten minutes later with two cups in your hand, one for you and one for Spencer.

“Here.” You hand it to him. “I made sure to fill the cup with sugar before the coffee, should be enough. I really hope it is because if it isn’t you are insane and need help.” You joke as he takes a sip and laughs.

“Perfect.”

“Good.”

A heavy silence filled the room, not awkward or unwelcome but peaceful; just enjoying each others company.

You continued search for another thirty minutes, and still nothing. You were about to give up and leave when Spencer started to speak.

“I like your locket.”

“Huh-oh! Thanks, sorry. Just a bit zoned out.”

“who’s inside it?”

“sorry?”

“who’s photo is in your locket”

“Oh no one’s yet, I just wear it because I think it looks pretty” You say

Theres a pause as you stand up and scour the last shelf to check.

“Wait I found it! Someone put it in the 90’s shelf with double homicides, idiot.”

You go to open the door and give to Hotch but a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Can you put me in your locket?”

huh?

“Uhm, sure…Can I ask why?”

Another pause. You think you’re not getting an answer so you turn again but Spencer finally continues.

“Because I love you.”

Oh?

“Wait you..sorry? I-I don’t understand I..”

“I love you y/n, I’m just sorry I didn’t say it earlier”

The next thing you know your lips are crashing onto his, his hands trail up to your h/l, h/c hair. Your hands start to explore as you trace the hemline of his shirt, one of his hands lowers to hold your hip. The kiss gets more passionate and you can’t help but feel like you’re dazed, in a REM like phase.

You pull away but he goes right back for another kiss. This one was different, more sincere. No trace of desperation or lust, just love. Pure love and admiration.

You both stop and look at each other.

“Do you know how long i’ve wanted to do that?” Spencer says, a little out of breath.

“Maybe. I’d assume probably the same amount of time I’ve been waiting too.”

You smile and he laughs.

“We should really get these to Hotch.” You say with a deep blush on your face and swollen lips.

“Sure”

You gave the file to Hotch, he gives you his thanks for finally finding the missing papers. Spencer is waiting for you outside his office.

“I know what happened what cut short but, do you maybe want to go for a walk or something after work? I know a really good ice cream place…” He suggests.

“I’d love that. Thank you Spence.”

“Don’t thank me, I’ve always wanted to.”

Always wanted to.

The next day you printed out a photo of you and Spencer and the aforementioned “really good ice cream place”, and put it in your locket.

The End.

Authors Note:

Ok guys first story how do we feel..? i def didn’t proof read this so if it’s ass just know i dont even know what happened either lmao

idrk if i like it or nah but lmk if you have any ideas or requests :)

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #y/n #romance #cute shit #pookie #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst

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atinylittlepain · 3 days

Text

Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed.

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again.

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat.

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right.

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it.

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more.

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label.

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working.

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort.

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself.

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.”

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?”

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.”

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now.

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever.

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer.

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works.

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away.

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?”

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.”

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.”

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it.

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again.

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor.

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?”

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner.

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her.

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places.

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier.

“So, you do live around here then?”

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.”

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.”

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust.

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.”

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured.

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers.

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?”

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.”

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that.

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again.

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest.

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #marcus pike au #marcus pike angst #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you

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gojos-fr-bae · 2 days

Text

Liar pt.8

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Pairing: Gojo x fem!eader

Warnings: ANGSTTTT, but fluff at the end, cussing, drinking, grinding, NOT PROOFRED, i don't think there's anything else but as always lmk if there is.

Note- the italics is a flashback, actually, Satoru's entire section is a flashback from pt 7.

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: VFYVKD. Guys, I think this might be the last part to this series😭😭😔😔 This has been a journey, thank you so much for everyone who has read this far, I truly and deeply appreciate every single one of you❤️❤️ I don't want it to endddd, so lmk if you would like me to keep writing for this au bc I would LOOVE to.

(Requests open)

Satoru

He was beginning to feel like he was slipping. He hadn’t had a glass since the shot he took before Kaito came to spend the night with him. Although it was now night and hours since his son had left, he naively thought that he had overcome his addiction since he hadn’t felt the urge to drink the whole time he was with Kaito.

Oh how wrong he was. He needed to get a drink and fast. He jumped into his car and began speeding to the nearest liquor store, only to find it with an eight-person line. He didn’t have the patience to wait that long and made his way to a bar. Any bar, honestly speaking, he had no idea where he even was.

He quickly went over, ordered, and chugged five tequila shots consecutively. Once the alcohol finally kicked in, he finally began to feel like himself again.

‘He was is disgusting. What kind of pathetic, sorry excuse of a man can’t survive without drowning himself in alcohol? How was he supposed to win you back and be a father for Kaito in such a state?’

These were the thoughts that ran rampant through his mind as he ordered a glass of whiskey, this time much more relaxed, seated on his stool, staring lifelessly into the endless abyss.

He was slowly sipping his drink when he felt a pair of hands clutch his shoulders before slowly gliding down his arms. Because of his inebriated state, he wasn’t able to sense them approaching, however, he just chose to ignore, only seeming to amuse the stranger. He slowly turned his seat to face them.

He was completely unamused when his eyes landed on a young woman clearly intent on getting into his pants. She clearly thought that she was the most beautiful girl in the room, therefore disarming a chance at him, but all he could think of was how ugly she looked in comparison to you. He just rolled his eyes, trying to go back to wallowing in self-pity. The lady just wouldn’t let up, turning around before she began grinding against him to the beat of the music. Foul, Satoru thought, feeling his patience run out.

“Get away from me you fucking slut,” he hissed, venom lacing his words as he placed his hand on her waist, trying to push her away when next thing he knows, a palm is making contact with his cheek, landing a harsh slap across his face. It was only then that he finally sensed your cursed energy. He quickly turned to face you, heart plummeting when he saw tears streaming through your face.

Shit, he can only imagine what this looked like to you. He tried to reach out to you but you just screamed at him and ran away from him.

He began to panic.

His heart was racing.

The world around him was spinning and despite how hard he tried, he couldn’t move a single inch. His vision was getting spotty and all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. He felt like he was going to vomit.

WHY! WHY HIM, WHY NOW! WHY COULDN’T HEJUST CONTROL HIMSELF AND STOP FUCKING DRINKING! He was absolutely torturing himself in his head as he spiraled.

He finally mustered the strength to run after you, leaving the unnamed girl where she stood, utterly confused.

He ran as fast as his legs could take him but you were nowhere to be found.

He leapt into his car and drove as fast as the vehicle could go. He was at Jujutsu tech in about five minutes but that was the longest five minutes of his entire life. He had to get to you. He needed to explain, he needed to make sure you know that it wasn't what it looked like.

Y/N

After crying your heart out on the sidewalk, you eventually made your way back to Jujutsu Tech. You texted Shoko and asked her if she could take care of Kaito for the rest of the night. You felt so guilty for staying away from him for two nights in a row but you just couldn’t bear to have him see you like this.

Just as you were about to close the dorm door behind you, you heard running and frantic breathing approach. You didn’t even bother trying to fight Gojo as he forced his way through the door you were trying to shut.

“Y/N p-please” he took a pause, slightly hunched over as he attempted to catch his breath, “I pro- I promise it wasn’t what you looked like!” he tried to explain, clearly panicked.

“What the fuck do you mean it’s not what it looked like, Gojo.” you questioned, putting emphasis on how you said his name. It felt like you were continuously stabbing him with a jagged dagger and he felt his knees getting weak but he couldn’t let you go, not now.

“My love please! I swear on my life it wasn’t! I wasn’t trying to do anything with her fuck! I don’t even know her name!” “Then what was it Gojo! She was grinding on you and you were FUCKING ENJOYING IT, DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME! I KNOW WHAT I SAW!!” You yelled your throat raw.

“I was trying to get her away from me! Please, believe me, I promise,” He dropped on his knees, reaching for your hands with his own shaking ones. Tears began to trickle down his face as his breathing grew heavy.

A small part of you wanted to believe it, but you were struggling. Deep down, you were telling yourself that he was telling the truth. But that was a part of you you hadn’t seen since Gojo was sealed. You survived this long without listening to it, so why start now?

“Gojo…let’s get a divorce-”

“NO! NO! BABY PLEASE! Don’t do this to me! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE, MORE THAN BREATHING, MORE THAN MYSELF MORE THAN ANYTHING! DON’T LEAVE ME-”

“Gojo you were gone for years! I LIVED WITHOUT A HUSBAND FOR YEARS! And from what it looks like, you CLEARLY didn’t feel my or Kaito’s absence! And from what it looks like, you’ve moved on-”

“BUT I HAVEN’T! I HAVEN’T! I GO TO BED HOLDING A PICTURE OF YOU CLOSE TO MY CHEST EVERY SINGLE NIGHT! I HAVE NEVER TAKEN OFF YOUR RING SINCE THE DAY I GOT BACK AND FOUND YOU GONE!” He cried, showing you your ring, which laid on his fingers. You would be lying if you said you didn’t notice it, but you just assumed that was due to how expensive it was. It would’ve been a waste to let it collect dust in a drawer.

“Y/N, you and out baby boy are the only fucking reason I wake up every day. You two are the light of my life and when I lost you. I was so distraught I even started drinking and you know better than anyone how much I hate that shit but it’s the only thing that takes my mind off of everything!”

You were now crying too, touched by what he was saying. You could see in his eyes that he meant every word and it shook you to your core.

You stayed anchored where you stood, sobbing now as Satoru got up off his knees and took you into his arms. Hugging you as tightly as he could without breaking your ribs.

You couldn't even move. You just stood there and cried with him, feeling the weight of everything that had transpired over the past couple of years wash away.

All that grief, suffering, and pain over the past few years was washing away in your tears.

You love him.

You had pushed down your feelings for him so deep that for a moment, you forgot they were even there. But you love him, and he you, and you knew that there was know way either of you could live without each other any longer.

You love him, and he loves you, and nothing was going to change that.

Not now, not ever.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

The End...?

@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here, @starlightanyaaa

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cevansbrat0007 · 11 hours

Text

Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”.

Well, that couldn’t be right.

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day.

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail.

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store.

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!”

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last.

Sweet Christ! That vision of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read.

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you.

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh.

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him.

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. Nothing harm there, right?

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d crossed paths in high school.

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else.

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?”

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled.

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.”

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye.

“As much as I can be.”

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked.

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.”

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs.

“I guess I’m just having a hard time believing you when you say he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.”

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.”

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back.

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal.

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts.

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy.

But not now.

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak until Ari’s hand is on the handle.

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them.

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going.

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later:

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck.

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END

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aurasplanet · 9 hours

Text

PERV carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — both are 18+, part two to caught, carl is a few years older than reader, reader is daryl’s adopted daughter, perv!sub!carl, carl is a peeking tom, cock slapping, oral (m and f!receiving), reader is kinda a mean!dom

ever since that night you haven’t left carl’s mind. the way you controlled him without even touching him, it drove him crazy. you instructed his every movement, told him when to stop, told him when not to stop. safe to say he was fucked stupid even though you didn’t lay a finger on him.

and he swears you’re tempting him.

the skimpier clothes you wear, always talking about how hot it is so no one bats an eye. but he sees right through you, he sees that teasing look you give him. you want to get another reaction out of him. his pride is telling him not to satisfy you, but everything else in him is screaming to give in.

then there’s the closeness, all of a sudden you’re always near him. if you can get away with it, touching him too. not in the way carl wants, in the way it’s so sickeningly close it drives him nuts. he’s always had his eye on you, you weren’t that much younger than him, close enough in age. but it’s different now.

“hey carl.” fuck, he can just hear it in your voice. it’s teasing and it’s flirty, and no one seems to notice a thing. trust, if daryl could tell, carl would be pounded into flat stanley.

carl gulps when your arm comes over his shoulder, your face way too close to his for him to act normal. “hi,” he breathes out, hand nervously coming up to your waist. he was standing next to his dad, who was going over something with your dad, and everyone’s dad, glenn.

“now that’s a little close.” daryl grumbles, pulling you more towards him. they’ve come to notice the shift in your friendship, of course never chalking it up to you watching carl fuck himself. but did they need to know that anyway?

you look up to your dad with pleading eyes, “actually, i was here to ask if i could babysit judith today?” carl’s eye widens, babysit judith his ass. she’s at the age where she does hardly anything but sleep. of course, that’s in his favor, and he’s growing nervous at your offer.

daryl looks between you and carl with a scowl on his face, then to glenn and rick who shrug. rick’s always happy for the extra help, not yet knowing what it’s like to have to watch over a grown daughter. “fine.” you clap and grab carl’s hand, walking away with him with a small ‘thank you’, ignoring their confused looks.

“why are you taking me with you?”

you take your hand out of his and cross your arms, “do you not want me to?” he shakes his head frantically and grabs your hand again, letting you lead him. he soon realizes you’re on the path to your house, not his.

he tilts his head, “what about judith?”

“she’s with olivia. she’ll cover for me.” you’re not exactly sure about that, but you’re willing to risk it.

carl nods, walking with you and trying to keep up the same pace. despite being so lost in his head. he clears his throat, “so… uh, what are we gonna do?”

you giggle, “you’re cute carl.” you don’t miss how his ears turn red, the confusion spreading over his face. no doubt he’s never been called that before. “we could… read comics?”

he can hide the dejection on his face, that little cover up story, sneaking off together, all to read comics? “are you just trying to drive me crazy?” you turn to him with a smile and wink, walking him up your steps.

the longer he’s there the more pissed off he gets. you truly did just read comics. despite the glances you kept sending his way, like you were waiting for something, you never actually did anything. don’t get him wrong, he loves the spider-man volumes you have, but he thinks he’d love his head buried between your thighs more.

he can’t help but zone out thinking about it, adjusting his jeans when they get too tight. you watch him amusedly as his eye stays on one page for a good five minutes. “you done yet?” his gaze snaps up, looking to his side for you before looking up.

“when did you get up?”

“oh a long time ago.” you didn’t, you just stood up to go shower, but it was funny to mess with him. watch his pretty face turn red knowing you’re the only one who’s done it. “anyway, i’m gonna go take a shower.”

his face turns possibly even redder and he just nods curtly. he watches you walk around your room to grab everything you need, focus trained on your hips especially. when you turn around he scrambles to pick his comic back up, squinting his eye shut when you laugh. he waits until you go into the bathroom, he waits until the water runs to finally breathe.

he looks down and fucking hell is his boner obvious. he doesn’t know whether to be upset that you didn’t make fun of him this time or not. he sighs, unzipping his jeans and palming himself through his boxers. he has to be quick, before you can get out and catch him, again. or maybe he could let it play out… his head was a mini battle field.

no matter how hard he focused the running water brought him out of his head. he felt so gross, but it couldn’t be too bad if he stole a peek? just so things wouldn’t have to be all his imagination anymore.

he zips his pants and looks out the door, making sure daryl hasn’t come home yet. he crosses the hall to the bathroom, furrowing his brow at the ajar door. he pushes it a little and pokes his head in just enough to see. he swore he could cum then and there, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away no matter how hard he tried.

he lost track of time, practically drooling at the sight in front of him like some stupid teen boy. which he guess he had a mind of, after all that little night you two had together was the first time he did anything with anyone.

his eye widens when you step out, while body on display with water droplets cascading down. he was frozen, unaware of his hand going down his pants as you changed in front of him. he felt dirty, you had no idea did you?

oh you did, he should have known better, seriously. it’s you, he’s him, he’s a fucking perv. you knew it, you knew you had to tempt him. it’s what you had been waiting on. you needed him to finally give in and do just what you expected so you had the excuse to use and punish him just how you wanted.

he leans his head against the edge of the door frame, eye shut and mouth agape in a silent moan as he tries to get off before you notice. but you swing the door open, fist latching onto his collar to bring his face towards yours.

“what are you doing?” you ask with a knowing smirk. god, he’s so shameless. he looks embarrassed but he hasn’t faltered or slowed his movements at all. he kept eye contact and his heavy breath mixed with yours before he kissed you. it was needy and hungry and messy, full of inexperience and desperation.

you separate from his lips, attaching yours to his neck. you smirked at his moans, pushing him against the counter and motioning for him to sit on it. you place your hand over his and squeeze, a whine leaning his throat in response. you suck and nibble on the skin of his collarbone, hand traveling from his back to his hair, giving it a small tug.

he whimpers your name, “so loud, what if someone walks in, huh?” he squirms and you smirk at his reaction, picking your head up to look at him. swollen lips, dilated pupil, and that look that was begging for you.

"y/n!" carl gasps, your tug a bit harsher this time. the force led you to be in control of his head, and you lifted it so he would look into your eyes. he looked embarrassed, his pretty face painted with pink. "don't look at me like that.”

he attempts to get out of your grasp to no avail. he felt so small under your gaze, like a prey facing its predator. and he hates how turned on he was getting from it. he hates how despite everything he’s built up, the thought of finally getting taken care of is too fucking good to pass up.

he was lost in his head until he felt the cold air of his room hit his now bare cock. he whimpered at the feeling, glancing down to your eyes that were already set on his face. his cheeks once again returned to their pink hue that seemed to come around every time you did. he sucked in a sharp breath and let his head fall back when he felt your hand wrap around him, giving his cock a few strokes.

he felt bliss in that moment, eye screwed shut. but his moment was quickly ruined when a searing pain travel from his erection and up his body. he jerked forward, tears springing his eye as he looked down at the culprit. you just stared back at him with that innocent smile that kills him.

"why'd you do that?" he asked, lip trembling.

“you didn’t think i’d let you get away with being a dirty perv?” he blinks and you just start jerking him off once more at the lack of response.

he whines your name, shutting his eyes, snapping them open again when you slapped his cock for a second time. "stop!" he cries, his head falling back.

"you know, you look pitiful," you mutter, voice merely above a whisper as you slowly dragged your hand up and down his shaft. "nothing is tying you down or forcing you through this. you like it." carl rolls his eye at your accusation. he knew you were right, he just wasn't going to admit it.

you begin licking from the base of his cock to the tip. carl was a whining mess now, squirming on the countertop, trying his best to keep his eye on yours. you started to bob your head up and down, delicious noises escaping from the boy above you. you wanted to laugh at him, how desperately he wanted to close his eye, shy away from you.

you slide off him with a pop, "what's wrong, carl?" you ask innocently, the look on your face similar to your voice. he whimpered at the sight of you, your mouth so close to him while all you did was lazily jerk him off.

carl just pants, breath quickening when you went back to the task at hand. it took everything in him not to buck his hips up, because with your rules, he didn't know what would come to him if he did. your pace quickened when carl warned you of his approaching orgasm, whines, moans, and groans leaving his pretty pink lips. his stomach muscles would contract every now and then. finally he came, whimpers of your name falling from his lips as if it were the only word he knew.

you kept going until he pushed you away, "no, can't take anymore..." his voice was shaky, and he repeatedly took in breaths. he looked so pretty, shaking and panting. all because of you.

"well, what am i supposed to do then?" you fake pout, tilting your head teasingly. you stand up, taking off your shit and giggling at carl’s shameless gawking gaze. he adjusted in his seat, watching with amazement as you continued to strip in front of him. "shirt off," you instruct, the boy obeying immediately.

carl thought for a second before he opened his mouth, "sit here." his face was red as he moved, picking you up and placing you on the counter.

you quirk a brow at him, “what are you planning?” he opens his mouth to speak, but you’ve reduced him to something so small he can’t even force it out of him.

“i’ll show you.” his hands messily fiddle with your shorts, tugging them off of you. he attaches his lips to you immediately and you feel him groan into your pussy, the vibrations causing a moan to leave your lips. you couldn't help but move, slightly riding his face. he seemed to be enjoying it, his eyes closed.

you gripped at one of your breasts, then using one of carl’s hands to replace your own. you knew he was trying to jerk himself off secretly, failing miserably, but you decided not to interrupt him. after all his mouth was so good, albeit inexperienced it was him. and he was enjoying it as much as you were. if not more.

carl whimpers, mumbling the words ‘gonna cum’ into your cunt. "hold it," you command, combing your fingers through his hair, causing a moan to rip from his throat.

"can't!" carl’s eyes were screwed shut, nose scrunched up and lips forming an 'o' shape.

"you can, and you will. you're not incapable of such a simple task, carl," your voice was stern, the control you had over him driving him crazy. when you felt let yourself dangerously close, you gave carl permission. he was very loud, adorable moans of your name leaving his red and swollen lips, although muffled. his hands go to grip your thighs tightly when you cum on his tongue, afraid you were going to disappear if he hadn't kept you close.

he rests his head on your thigh, looking up at you with a small laugh. "thank you..." he trails off, his face was red, and his voice was very quiet. everything seemed awkward to him now. he stands up and you lean forward to give him another kiss, it was softer this time, a small moan from carl traveling to your mouth.

“you shouldn’t be thanking me for a punishment.”

carl shrugs, leaning his head on your shoulder. “got you to myself though now, didn’t i dixon?”

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

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sonicku · 2 days

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Okay wasn’t expecting to wake up from my nap to a Sonic and Shadow Tails Tube but I’m not complaining! Suppose it only makes sense with the run up to SxS Gens and the movie, haha.

I’m sometimes less of a fan of how they’re depicted in more modern stuff, and a little of that shines through here, BUT, this is actually really well done in my opinion! I mean just having an episode for only them (and Tails, of course) is great on its own, but I love how even with bickering they weren’t unreasonable with it? Like it didn’t feel contrived like it does sometimes, and they actually made sure to mention some of the times they’ve helped and cared about each other. And all of it was just so fun to watch, it’s a really entertaining dynamic! Love them so much, can’t wait to see more of them this year!

However, seeing acknowledgment of Prime again meaning they very likely really meant it was canon gives me real mixed signals. On the positive side it means all of the stuff that happened between Sonic and Shadow there is canon (which would be incredible to me, that show did so much for them) and so are my favs like Nine and Dread, but it also means we just have to accept Sonic had a short time where he was just wildly out of character? And nobody in universe cared? New headcanon that he didn’t take his Adderall, or something, I don’t know. Guess I’ll just have to get over it haha.

(Also nice to see Sonic call Shadow a faker, it’s generally been flipped in fandom portrayals of them I see (which I can still get behind tbf!), but it was always Sonic who gave out that nickname, not Shadow, so cool to see them use it.)

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #tailstube #sonadow #yes this was written with sonadow biases #but i’m sure a general audience can still get me haha #sonicku

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fandomfluffandfuck · 14 hours

Note

It’s been a bit since I wrote about feral!Bucky but I genuinely cannot put into words how much Steve (and me) loves him

Bucky now associates physical touch with pain, with torture. He hides from visitors, scampers away from touch, and never lets anyone get close to him. Nevertheless, Steve wakes up from a nap one day with Bucky curled into his side, and Steve is pretty sure that if he could, Bucky would be purring like a kitten.

“Bucky?” Steve asks tentatively, trying not to spook him. Bucky doesn’t seem to be upset by Steve sudden consciousness, instead just making a small noise and wrapping his arms around Steve’s chest possessively. He mumbles something that sounds like “Stevie”.

“You alright, angel?” Steve asks with a grin, confused but pleased with the change in Bucky’s demeanor. He knew Bucky had always been closer with Steve, trusting him more than others, but this was still new territory. He slides his arms around Bucky, which causes Bucky to make a happy noise that Steve hasn’t heard in years.

————

Also, maybe Bucky’s a bit territorial now that he’s been given more freedom. The poor thing doesn’t know what to do with himself. However, after consulting a bunch of psychiatrists and Dr. Banner, Steve knows what he needs to do. He empties out an old walk in closet, and fits it with as many soft things as he can find. He buys as many plushies as he can afford, and stuffs the closet with them. He remembers how much Bucky hates harsh lights now and decides to buy those pretty string lights that Peter has in his room at the tower. He shows it to Bucky when it’s finished and they’ve both had a good day.

“It’s all your own space, Buck. I’m never going to come in here without your permission. I swear it.” Steve says, holding Bucky’s hand, which lately Bucky won’t let go of.

“It’s… mine?” Bucky says, slowly, tentatively. He’s scared that all of this will be taken away.

“Yeah, Buck. Yours.” Steve says, as comforting and securely as I can, trying to make his confidence transfer to Bucky.

Steve is tackled in a hug, and there are tears wetting his shirt. He hugs Bucky back, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Thank you.” The whisper is so soft, so small, that it’s almost imperceptible. But Steve hears it. He’ll always hear Bucky.

————

Then, of course, there’s the moment when Steve’s telling Bucky about life back in Brooklyn, a topic that Bucky is very interested in. He’s going on about something that they did to piss off Becca (“we were teenagers, Buck. The best entertainment we had was making that poor girl mad.”) when Bucky stops him.

“I remember.”

Steve drops the pencil he’s holding. “You… You do?” There’s so much hope in his voice. There’s unshed tears in Bucky’s eyes, and a small smile on his face.

“Yes. Rebecca. My Becca.” Bucky’s smile gets bigger, as does Steve. Steve rushes to his side, hugging him. Bucky’s crying, and Steve’s not far behind him. Bucky laughs, and it is the best goddamn sound Steve Rogers has ever heard. “She was so mad. I can’t believe we did that.” He giggles, and it makes Steve feel like maybe everything will be okay.

previous feral!Bucky

Me too! I am such a fucking sucker for feral Bucky

I am beside myself thinking about Bucky being so touch adverse only for Steve to wake up and find him tucked into his side 😫 and there's something so special, too, about Bucky having moments in recovery where he's so suddenly more himself. It makes it so much more painful to see the rapid realignment. It's as if he's found two loose ends and knotted them together as quickly as his fingers would allow to ensure that he doesn't misplace them again. Gah! It's so just 🤌🏻ouch🤌🏻

Oh my god!! The territorial thing, yes! I've had this in my notes for actual years, waiting for me to come back to it and do something with it:

Sometimes, during Bucky's recovery, he latches onto things with this ferocity, holding until his fingers hurt, distraught when he accidentally breaks it, if the object of desire is fragile, claiming "mine." He won't let anyone touch it, not unless it's over his dead body. Steve has genuinely never been so distraught and proud of someone for grabbing a mug and declaring it as their own. Bucky deserves to have his own things.

Same wavelength, lmao

That's so fucking sweet, though! I love the idea of Bucky having his own space. (And I love the idea of Peter's room in the tower having fairy lights. Fuck yeah.)

Ah! That last part is the fucking best. Steve will never be as eager to be interrupted as he is when he's in the middle of a story, and Bucky stops him because he remembers. He doesn't need to tell him again, he remembers. Steve could fucking kiss him. Steve will kiss him. Steve will pick him up and spin him around, clutching his waist all the while, a huge grin on his face.

In conclusion:

Thank you so, so much for this!!

#asks #sillysickly #anon provided writing #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #hurt/comfort

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gabessquishytum · 2 days

Note

Can’t stop won’t stop thinking about warprize cat Dream and cow Hob.

It came up a bit on discord but I’m obsessed with Dream being insecure about his barbed penis. His past owners were not fans, and he would get punished if it “got in the way” while he was servicing them. So with Hob he tries his best to keep it covered up, or to lay on his stomach when they have sex.

Hob, of course, loves everything about Dream’s body (although he loves it best when Dream is healthy and comfortable), but beyond that he actually really truly wants to experience those barbs on his skin. The few times he managed to catch a glimpse of Dream’s cock Hob practically started salivating at the thought of it inside him, in his arse or his mouth or rutting against his belly or tits.

He’s already been working hard to help Dream grow more confident and comfortable, so he figures there’s no need to feel too guilty about focusing some of his efforts on getting Dream confident and comfortable about his prickly cock specifically.

-🦇

YESSSSSS.

Look, Dream has already worked out that his new "owner" Hob is weird. Or maybe cowpeople in general are weird. Anyway - Hob is kind, good natured, gentle... and he's so fucking horny, Dream can barely keep track of him. Hob’s appetites seem endless. He's trying hard not to tire Dream out, so some nights he'll head off for a nice long bath and Dream can hear him pleasuring himself. He's insatiable and it's kind of... fascinatingly hot. So day by day, the more he's exposed to what Hob likes and how Hob acts in bed, Dream starts to hesitantly believe that Hob really and truly does want to see and feel his cock. So one day, Dream lies on his back instead of his front. He lets Hob have a good look and a little feel, and then he gets shy again... but it's progress.

A week later, Dream is sitting in Hob’s lap and rutting his spikey cock up against Hob’s soft plump stomach. He's clumsy and hesitant, but it feels really good, and Hob isn't yelling at him... in fact he seems to like it! Dream does at least feel safe fucking against Hob’s tummy since it at definitely won't cause any lasting damage. He'd feel so awful if he hurt his kind, sweet owner's hole...

Hob is proud of his precious catboy. He's being so brave and confident, even though Hob knows that he's scared! When Dream finally cums, Hob showers him in kisses and treats. He can't wait to show Dream that his body is appreciated and loved for all its unique glories! One day he's getting that lovely spikey cock inside him - and he just knows that it'll be heavenly!

#🦇 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw hybrids #cw genitalia #catboys #cow hob #warprize au

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crazyco0tz · 2 days

Text

I’m working on a new way to submit nsfw requests but until then I’ll gladly take this request^

{ stray kids favorite reward }

Hyung!line

Warnings: soft smut, pegging, dom!reader, fem!reader

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

*chan

Simple enough his favorite reward is def getting to cum. he loves his rewards to be simple, once he’s finally getting to cum he needs you to hold him through it whispering about how much he deserves it! (If he actually does deserve it)

If it’s been a long time since hes cum he’ll make sure he’s been his best then he gathers up the courage to ask; “Can you pleaseeeeeee make me cum miss? It’s been days…”

Very few times you pity his pathetic begs enough to actually let him but most of the time you tell him off for being oh so needy

in fact all you need to do is place your hand on top of his clothed dick and he does all the rest

But he still needs to hear reassurance from your silky voice. “So good for me” “can’t hold it anymore baby?” “You deserved every bit of this” ect ect.

He eats up every “good boy” and “I’m so proud of you” like candy~ he could definitely cum untouched just by hearing your voice.

*minho

He also likes it plain, he has made it very clear that his all time favorite reward is kisses, EVERYWHERE

after you both finish he loves being called a good boy while he flops over so you can kiss all up him back, bonus points if you have plumping gloss on, he loves the tingling feelings it really makes him relaxed especially after all the dirty things you just did to him

Sometimes hes just so fucked out that he just lays there with a smile on his face while he feels your lips pecking on every hickey and scratch you gave him. PAMPER HIMM TOO!!

Whether it be wet sloppy kissed or soft pecks he just loves to have your lips all over his body especially his face. Calling him your pretty doll while smothering his face with kisses after he made such a mess on the bed is just perfect.

*changbin

I feel like he would be on his hands and knees begging just for you to use a vibrater on him. I can just imagine him about to cum all over your hand before pulling your hand away and pleading. “No!! N-no… I wanna cum with the vibrater today.. please?” How could you say no?

He also goes crazy for remote controlled vibraters too, his favorite sensation controlled by you? He LOVES it

But just because it’s a reward doesn’t mean you can’t be a tease. “I’ll bet I can make you cum with this in under 10 seconds binnie~” his flushed cheeks didn’t deplete his confidence.

“HA! I’ll bet I can lasted more that 40 se-. AHH~ F-FUH.. Y/NNIE!” The second the wand touched his tip he was practically screaming in under 10 seconds. And he loves every second of it.

Hyunjin

Lingerie+pegging he wants to feel pretty and what better way to make him feel like a princess then to put him in some cute baby blue stockings and fuck his brains out. unlike the others he’s humble and never asked for a reward he always waits and when it does arrive it’s so worth it

“Aw arent You pretty?” You coo, he giggled in excitement “I’m v-very pretty!” You peck his cheek before leaning into his ear “so pretty I think you deserve a little something~” he instantly hops up and runs to your shared room

His favorite position is when you hook both of his legs over your shoulders so you can hit his special spot every time.

He also seems like a “fuck me until I can’t speak” kinda guy, which you gladly do. Only 5 minutes in all that can come out of his mouth is “AHH~ AH~ AHHH~ M-MOR..MORE~” while he clutches his pretty lingerie mini skirt in his hands

But he’s always so sad that he gets cum all over his fancy lingerie by the end of it, but you can always make him feel better by stripping it off and fucking him again🤷‍♀️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My first nsfw post LETS GO

Anyways pt.2 coming soon obvvv

Bye sweeties😮‍💨😮‍💨

#stray kids reactions #stray kids #sub stray kids #sub!stray kids #sub!idol #sub!kpop #sub kpop #sub!bang chan #sub!changbin #sub!minho #sub!hyunjin #kpop reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #kpop #sub!skz

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lightwise · 2 days

Text

TBB S3 E12 Reaction

Alright, this was the last episode that was truly represented in the trailer. I can’t wait to see Hunter kick some Juggernaut butt (why does that sound so bad lol)

- Hemlock wipe that damn smirk off your face

- Again with the shoulder shoves dude

- No why is CX-2 just walking away? We need to follow him and find out who he is!! *low-key screaming in frustration* lol

- I love how Hemlock is so arrogantly confident and uncaring that he comes across as almost respectful in how he takes the time to explain things to other people

- Come on Emerie, you’ve come so far! Don’t keep playing into Hemlock’s hand! You know Omega isn’t safe here and neither are you

- Lol he’s too busy to even wait for the test results. Bitch

- I do wish they had given us Crosshair telling Hunter and Wrecker about Omega. BUT I was very much correct that Hunter would not waste time being angry

- Every time Crosshair says something more about Tantiss it just keeps getting worse and worse 🥺🥺 don’t make that man go back there! Dee’s vocal inflections and the way he talks about Nala Se and Tipoca City is so regretful

- The trust and vulnerability he’s willing to show though with his hand shaking and admitting he doesn’t want to go back he’s so traumatized 😭💔

- No WAY they are bringing back Admiral Rampart! Kudos to those who called that one

- PHEEEE and AZZZZ

- Cross goes from pointing his rifle in Phee’s face to straight up telling her they’re taking her ship 🤣

- Okay, it finally happened. I finally teared up. Phee and Crosshair immediately sass each other, then she drops the fact that she and Tech were close and talked a lot and he TOLD HER ABOUT CROSSHAIR (and in a good light) and we got a BROWN EYES 👁️ 👄 👁️. I was in a puddle on the floor 🥹🥹🥹

- The way she treats all of them like family and helps them and puts her life on the line for them. It is just so satisfying to see her relationship with the Batch continue to develop like this. Truly family to all of them.

- More Andor vibes with this labor camp

- Of course Rampart is still a dramatic bitchy asshole. Prison hasn’t changed him AT ALL (except for the beard. Sorry guys but I’m just not seeing it 😆)

- Aw Wrecker giving Mel a little pat. He’s so sweet

- “Oh relax. I expect you to know a stealth approach when you see one” 🤩🤩 TECH you need to come back and marry this woman RIGHT FREAKING NOW

- Gosh they were so made for each other 😭

- That entire maneuver was insane and incredible

- Hunter’s helmet float 😄 at least one of them was having fun

- As others have pointed out I also really appreciate that they animated Phee with so much aging and tiredness and lines and wrinkles showing on her face. She’s a real woman who’s seen and done a lot of things and she’s incredibly gorgeous and badass and caring and intelligent and she doesn’t need perfect skin or a youthful glow to be completely amazing

- When are we getting the “day in the life of a storm trooper” workplace comedy? I need it Star Wars!

- It’s so good to see the boys working together like this

- The textures and lighting in this episode are just so real looking

- Wow Wrecker really just sucker punched that guy

- And he actually remembers plan 55 😁 so proud of him

- The music when they saunter in 😂 and we got a “how touching” too?!

- Rampart’s face is in the dictionary next to the word offended

- “Hunter, they’re sealing off the bridge!” Hunter: drives faster

- And he was giving Phee a hard time for her flying?? Boy is approaching Evel Knievel levels!!

- I need to see Hunter in a dirt bike rally now 😧

- Pretty sure Hunter is firmly in his Joel Miller Era. He does not care what he has to do or who he has to kill at this point

- “Not exactly a stealth exit boys” such a great line

- “We’re all in this together” sure Rampart sure let’s see how chipper you are about that next episode

- Emerie and Omega’s glances at each other 🥺

- “This is your new home” yeahhh I don’t think so

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #star wars

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ectobabble · 2 days

Text

Glitter Roots Fic Snippet

✨Glitter Roots✨<- // I started this in January and it didn't do well, I wrote way too much, so I'm spamming it. Sorry.

---

Rate: PG | Sunshine x Sunny | Tooth Rot Fluff + Comfort

Reader/MC has Dissociative Identity Disorder

Glitter Roots is a prequel to 'The Imposter' from Shiny's perspective. Expecting to work with Sun and Moon in the theater, Shiny is disappointed that they were locked away in Parts and Service.

Shiny's existence is based on external validation and performing for others, essential for survival as a child but a hindrance as an adult. They pour their heart and soul into the daycare and the well-being of Sun/Moon, regardless of their own needs. Sun/Moon struggle with the memories of the reprogramming and virus but learn how to be a person again while sprouting a relationship with their new handler/assistant.

----

Meeting Sunny:

“SUNNY!” They exclaimed like a child, running up to him and dropping everything that they were doing with the technician.

Sun startled at the noise but eagerly stood up to greet them. “Hello! WOW. Your outfit? It’s exciting!” He pressed his hands against the glass. “Are you from the daycare?” He tapped his fingers on the glass nervously.

“I’m going to be at the daycare. It’s my first day! And then I went and talked to my boss, Lydia about what I’d be working on and she said that I’d be working mostly with you because she said that I remind her of her daughter and she said that we’d be good working together. Maybe her daughter is good with kids, she didn’t want to talk about it. You know her? Or remember her, I mean. She said she worked at the daycare before it closed down. Now it’s opening again and…”

Shiny had to stop to take a large breath. You’re talking too much. Too excited again. Stop. Stop it. That didn’t stop their mouth from running. “I have been waiting to meet you for so long. I used to watch you perform back when you did theater! You were amazing!”

Sun put up a finger, to try and wedge his way into the one-sided conversation but failed.

“You can call me Sunshine. Lydia said we could put nicknames on our pins for the kids and I thought that was awesome! My friends used to call me Sunshine at summer camp! I wanted to keep it since it’s less serious and I thought it’d be cute. Actually, maybe I should have asked you first? Is that okay? I hope that’s okay! I should stop talking. Sorry. Talking. I’m talking more… It’s good to meet you. I hope we can hang out sometime!”

“Ho-Ho Ho! Aren’t you quite the chaaaatterbox! You say you’re in summer caaaaamp?! That sounds like so much fun! How old are you, little superstar? You look so tiny!”

Sunshine immediately lost all the charisma they had built up, so much so that Sun flinched at the sudden change in expression and tone. “I’m old enough to have a job… I like what I like and age shouldn’t matter… I heard you’re not a fan of adults either. I hope it’s not a bad thing.”

“Wow, really?” He cocked his head, though there was a noticeable change in his demeanor. “I can’t tell with the face paint.” He didn’t say whether it was alright or if he liked it… now that Shiny was thinking about it, he didn’t say if their name was alright either. They weren’t making a good impression with anyone…

Sunshine: …I gotta fix it. It can’t end like this, they’ll take over and I’ll lose everything again. I can’t go BACK. This has to work so they can’t get mad at me.

If Sun didn’t like it then they could tone it down! Lydia seemed to think it was too much. The little kids liked it… Sunshine started analyzing everyone’s reactions during the day. Maybe their other was right, they weren’t cut out for this. They quit their only job, their safety net, and took a risk on a stupid dream-. “I’m glad you can’t tell. That’s good.”

“Did you do face painting today?” Sun tilted his head, tapping the glass. “I would have loved that! Who painted you? Did Lydia?”

Sunshine winced, their voice had gotten much weaker. “I uh… did it before coming over. I figured it was okay because… kids… daycare.”

“It looks so happy! Like flower freckles!” He chuckled. “It matches the clips in your hair. I bet the kids liked it. It reminds me of the theater costumes we used to have! Ah, memories…” It sounded like it was sad nostalgia.

“Lydia got a little upset about it since the kids wanted to face paint too… I had to promise to not do it on days when we’re not painting. That’s my bad. I don’t think before doing things… I wanted it to be extra special. I really really really want to make this job work.” They closed their fists and and shook them to punctuate their words. They needed to be liked. They needed this job. They needed friends and have people depend on them.

They couldn’t go BACK.

“I do remember Lydia! She is one of the nicer staff. I didn’t mind working with her… She’s such a nice granny. Do you know when I’m scheduled to get out? I have been very good. They say I’m all better now! Healthy! Tip top shape.”

Sunshine frowned. “I - uh - don’t… Actually, I’m not supposed to really be here. I came down after work… and the technicians are ignoring me right now so I think it’s okay?” Behind them were the technicians tolling away at some service bots, unbothered by Sunshine hanging around.

“Rulebreaker.” He gasped.

“Not really. See, I got a pass!” They showed Sun their security badge. “My workday ended and I just came here because Lydia said that you were here and I really wanted to see you. I’ve always wanted to work with kids and never got the opportunity to apply.”

“Juuuust because you have the means, does not mean that it is right.” Sunny crossed his arms and looked away dramatically, then he completely dropped the act and leaned down to be face to face with them and whisper, “I am glad you visited though. It’s been a while since I’ve talk talk TALKED with someone new. You look like a rainbow threw up on you!” He giggled. “You must like color a lot.” Sunny prompted them, trying to continue the conversation. He probably was just as attention starved as Sunshine was.

But he didn’t like it, did he?

“I do.” Sunshine was afraid they were going to slip from being out again. If there was one thing their other fed off of it was insecurity and doubt, and they could get a full meal out of something as small as this.

Other: Did you put this shit in our hair again? Oh man, where are we? Are you playing dress up? Are we out in public looking like a clown?! Against their will, Sunshine began to take the pins out of their hair. It was a losing the battle. As they lowered the head to pull the clips out, the light caught on the glitter roots.

Sun gasped. “You got glitter glue all up in your hair!”

Sunshine was shaking a little. People liked it though, right? They made people smile today and the kids seemed to like it… “Oh. I did that on purpose. It’s hair gel mixed with glitter. It’s a trend.. Or it was…” That was a scary thought too; it was a trend eight years ago and yet they remembered seeing it like yesterday. “I saw it online and I thought it’d be cool to try. It’ll wash out… and its biodegradable. Team Mother Earth! Haha…” Sunshine cleared their throat, pulling another clip out.

“No no no! I’m sorry, new friend! It looked good! I haven’t seen a person that colorful before. You look like a little fairy. Heh!”

“I realize now that I overdid it…” Sunshine was getting self-conscious, a foreign feeling.

“You look perfect for the daycare! Don’t listen to the sticks in the mud! I’m sure the kids loved it! Avant garde! Inspired! You look like arts and craaaaafts.” Sun sang as he spun his rays. “That’d be great at parties - we should play dress up with the kids sometime to do plays! I’d love that! We should definitely do that.”

“I want the party on the inside to match the party on the outside.” Sunshine was gaining their confidence back, if only a little. “I hope, uhm, we get along when you come back out.”

Sun clapped his hands. “We shall see! I’m so excited to see the kids again! We’re going to have so much FUN! We should add face painting sometimes! I miss fingerpainting. My ballpit! It’s still there?”

“It is!” Sunshine suddenly jumped, remembering something important. “Here! I wanted to give you something anyway. I got this for you because it’s my first day and I figured ‘Hey, this would be cool! Maybe he’d like it as a welcome present back to the daycare.’ I used to watch you do theater before and it really helped get me through some dark times. That’s pretty much the reason I wanted to start working here is because I wanted -.” They took a much needed deep breath. “Sorry. I meant to say: I got you this.”

Shiny lifted up a little party bag they had prepared and impatiently waited all day to give to him. 💖

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