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#fucks sake i need to go calm down
lil-lesbian-historian · 10 months
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Fanfiction has ruined some of y’all’s brains so badly. Gaiman said to expect 3 seasons of Good Omens. That’s how much content he has planned for the show - meaning there’s a definite end he’s looking towards.
What did you really think s2 was going to be? The two of them running around and then being at the Ritz just like s1? That’s not an interesting show, it’s just fan service fluff. (Which is obviously fun and all but not something you should base 3 seasons of TV show on)
Gaiman told you what has to happen for Crowley and Aziraphale to be together in the show: Aziraphale has to heal from his past ‘relationship’ to be in a healthy one with Crowley. What Nina says about her and Maggie is not just a character talking to fill up run time, it’s the show saying something too.
TL;DR: Aziraphale is in a toxic relationship with heaven and needs to get out of that mindset before he can be with Crowley. It’s natural story progression and some of y’all have fanfic brainrot where everything must be instantly gratifying.
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singsweetmelodies · 1 year
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Why are you posting Carlando and even Piarlos content if you don't like Carlos? Math ain't mathing...
well, firstly, anon, this is tumblr dot com, not maths class. i've said repeatedly, and i will say it again, that i reserve the right to be as hypocritical and insane as i want here. after all, it's tumblr - if i can't be insane and hypocritical here, then where can i?
example: anyone who watches my blog at all during a race week will know that i am NO max fan. not in the slightest. and yet i will occasionally reblog maxiel fic recs. why? well, because they're quite often quite well-written. at the end of the day, i'm a fangirl and also a bisexual disaster, so if there's a well-written gay fanfic, the chances are relatively high that i will read and enjoy it. also: i think there's quite a significant difference between fic!max (who i occasionally enjoy) and driver!max (who i despise quite passionately.) fic!max has a lot of background and nuance that can make for fascinating characterisation, and as a writer, i just enjoy that.
now for carlos specifically: please let it be known that i do not hate him the way i hate max. not even close. i am, however, a dedicated chirlie (charles girlie) and anyone who gets in the way of charles doing well is automatically in my bad books. i do try to be at least a little reasonable about it, though, and yes i absolutely do realise that a lot of major fuck-ups this season were ferrari's, not carlos' (see: silverstone 2022.) but yeah, unfortunately the way carlos has handled a lot of interviews this year really rubbed me up the wrong way, and i read one too many comparisons of carlos girlies calling him more talented than charles as well. which.... babe, no.
like i said at the start, i am fully aware that i'm a hypocrite lmao. but i'm not HERE to be unbiased. we are watching a sport - everyone is biased towards their favourites, and i'm not going to apologise for that.
and as for carlando and piarlos - i treat them the same way as i would maxiel. carlos might not be on my favourites list as a driver, but he's an interesting character to explore in fic. i am at the end of the day a writer, and i like interesting characters to explore, so yes, i am quite happy to post carlando or piarlos or very very occasionally even charlos content (because akira is the best and might convert me one day. we'll see.)
anyway! the last thing i wanted to say to you, anon, is just a gentle reminder again of the PURPOSE of fandom. it is an escape from real life, somewhere where we can come to have fun. the same rules and restrictions and - dare i say it - morals that we use irl do not apply here. they just don't! fandom should be about what makes one happy, and nobody really has the right to police that, i don't think.
so tl;dr - anon, i am here to do whatever it is that makes me happy in that moment. if that's carlando and/or piarlos, then that's what i'll do. if you have a problem with that, then i'm happy to point you in the direction of the Unfollow button, lmao - curate your experience! see what you want to see. have fun!
x
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fingertipsmp3 · 9 months
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Girl help I just realised this coding course me and my friend signed up for has a PRESENTATION COMPONENT?? As in we have to PRESENT something to a group of who knows how many people?! ONLINE????? What, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck
#if it were just me i wouldn’t be that bothered. like i literally used to teach. public speaking is nbd for me#even if it’s to faceless people on a screen like idc… what are they going to do. shoot me bc my code is wrong and i say ‘um’ too much? lmao#they have to find me to shoot me#also i’m humble enough to know that my presentation won’t stand out from the rest as being particularly good or bad#yet egotistical enough to know that i won’t fuck it up completely because i’m too generally good at presenting#my friend though. presenting with my friend is actually going to be terrible because she is going to fully shit her pants#and I’M going to be the one who has to tell her a million times ‘you’re not going to fuck up and anyway it doesn’t matter if you do’#and she WON’T LISTEN#like don’t ask for consolation if you’re not going to be consoled goddamn#and i get it! i’ve had that anxiety. i STILL have anxiety. i’ve spent most of the day beating myself up over a badly worded email i shot off#without thinking & received a sarcastic reply to#but for god’s sake CALM DOWN. you’re facing s class of your peers who are too nervous about their own presentations to listen to what you’re#saying; not a fucking firing squad. and if in doubt you can just let me talk the whole time#or i’ll just write out word for word what you need to say and put it in front of you#teamwork is optional for the project but i already know she’s going to make me team up with her and it’s going to be bad#i hope presenting is optional as well lol bc i can’t DO this with her. i do not have sufficient patience#when i was a teacher i was basically mother theresa but now that i’m a barista i don’t want to hear whining#it is a big problem#personal
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astaerion · 2 years
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lynslegion · 1 year
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I think I finally understand the immense rage and disappointment I've seen expressed by quite a lot of wlw in regards to canon pairings in media. I'm not even sure how to put into words the way I feel right now but I'm unhappy with myself for how much I'm letting this affect me. I should be better than this but I just feel so...upset.
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cryolyst · 35 minutes
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cold-kitty · 2 months
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Due to very, very high demand for part two of my Yan!Mermaid (looks at my notifications and cries), here it is.
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Contains: NSFW, dub-con, same warnings as the last one other than that
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Yan!Mermaid who starts clinging to your leg as you sigh, so happy that you're giving him another chance.
Yan!Mermaid who watches your hand signals and listens to your foreign words, not understanding a thing but tries to listen for your sake.
Yan!Mermaid who forces himself not to straddle you when he sits next to you, his tail swaying slowly behind him.
Yan!Mermaid who watches you fish all day, just enjoying your presence.
Yan!Mermaid who pouts and whines and clings to you when you try to leave. no no no no no! don't leave! i don't wanna be alone! stay with me, i promise to keep you warm!
Yan!Mermaid who tries to climb into the trunk of your car, and somehow manages.
Yan!Mermaid who happily slides out of your truck when you arrive home, smiling wide.
Yan!Mermaid who's surprised when you don't seem happy too. you look mad, but you suck it up and groan.
Yan!Mermaid who doesn't like how you put him in a tank with the fish you caught, he wants to sleep in your bed!
Yan!Mermaid who climbs out of the tank when you're asleep and crawls across the floor to your room, curling up in bed with you.
Yan!Mermaid who lets his mind wander to when he was grinding against you, how good it felt. y-your skin is so w-warm and soft... a-ah...
Yan!Mermaid who is immediately worked up again, pressing himself against you tight.
Yan!Mermaid who lets his hands greedily trail over you, gently squeezing your thighs and watching the flesh bounce back into place.
Yan!Mermaid who hesitantly pulls down your pants. he promises himself that he's just looking, but he can't resist the temptation. s-so pretty...
Yan!Mermaid who starts by squishing the flesh of your ass, watching it jiggle. he continues to do that for a while, almost mesmerized. he loves watching you squirm in your sleep too.
Yan!Mermaid who sticks his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and getting them wet.
Yan!Mermaid who starts by pushing one finger into you, slowly so he doesn't hurt you. he watches how your unconscious body squirms and reacts to the intrusion.
Yan!Mermaid who slowly pushes another finger into you, but that wakes you up. you look behind you almost immediately, a horrified look on your face.
Yan!Mermaid who expects you to hurt him, staring at you with wide and fearful eyes. he starts moving his fingers nonetheless, hoping that it might calm you down, twisting and curling them with slight hesitation. oh please don't hate me! you're just so irresistible!
Yan!Mermaid who watches as your body starts to quiver softly, your head falling back into the pillow. you were giving up to the pleasure, even if reluctantly.
Yan!Mermaid who feels encouraged, his fingers thrusting fasted, twisting and curling them to his hearts content. he makes sure to get real close to you so he can hear all of your soft whimpers and moans. a-ah... keep making those sounds... so cute...
Yan!Mermaid who keeps this up until you cum, and oh my God is he so happy. he watches as you convulse softly, pulling his fingers out and licking them. he doesn't mind if it's nasty if it's you.
Yan!Mermaid who lowers himself down and starts licking up the cum that fell onto the bed.
Yan!Mermaid who pats your back reassuringly as he positions himself behind you, helping you out though the whole thing. stroking your hair, praising you in his language, kissing every inch of your body, going as slow as he can.
Yan!Mermaid who cuddles you the whole night after that, kissing you softly. he's so happy, so fucking happy. he finally got to mate with you like a real lover, even if it was only one short round.
(BONUS NSFW: Yan!Mermaid definitely does analingus, %100. Yan!Mermaid puts your needs and wants before his, if he wants to go fast and you want to go slow he goes slow. he hates seeing you in crying, so he refuses to overstimulate you, nothing rough or degrading, and he doesn't dare leave marks on you. Yan!Mermaid AFTERCARE, SO MUCH OF IT.)
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Does anyone know how mermaid dick works? Like honestly, how. Is it in the tail? Just hanging out there? HOW!?
~🐈‍⬛
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ragingbookdragon · 3 months
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Whoever decided to ring her doorbell in the middle of a midnight thunderstorm was either a serial killer or a poor soul stuck out in the rain. Either way, she still felt sorry enough for whatever poor bastard was stuck outside and decided to open the door, but her expression dropped into annoyance when she saw the man leaning against the doorframe.
“Hey,” he murmurs, gazing at her. “Long time no see.” She starts to close the door and he sticks his foot in it. “Wait, please, don’t close me out.”
“Like you did to me,” she retorts, opening the door. “What do you want, Simon?”
He glances back towards the rainy street and hefts his rucksack higher on his shoulder. “To stay the night.”
“Seriously?”
“Please?” He begs and she pauses—Simon Riley wasn’t a man who begged often.
She gazes at him a moment longer before sighing and opening the door. “Clothes and shoes off at the door. Mask too. You’re soaking wet.”
“What gave you that ‘int? The rainstorm?”
Turning, she shoots him a glare. “I’m letting you stay the night despite you breaking my heart. I’d be a little less sarcastic.”
“Sorry,” he mutters, starting to strip his clothes as he shuts the door behind him. He hands her his clothes, standing in his boxers, then cups the front of himself and asks. “You wouldn’t happen to have any of my clothes shoved in the back of your closet…would you?”
“Bottom drawer in the chest of drawers.”
“You kept my clothes? Aw, you still car—” he falls silent when she glares at him. “Going now.”
As she disappears into the laundry room, she calls out, “What did you do, walk here from the base? You know Birmingham has cabbies, right?”
“I’m not wasting money to drive twenty minutes when I can walk within an hour.”
“You know you’ll get sick from this.”
“Wive’s tale. Can’t get sick from the rain.”
“Smart-ass,” she retorts, shoving his clothes in the dryer.
He comes around the corner, leaning against the doorway with a hand towel thrown over his shoulder, short blonde hair sticking up in all directions, evident he’d dried off with it.
“That is a decorative towel, not for use.” She glares at him. “You know that too.”
“You moved the other towels.”
“Oh, for god’s sake,” she mutters, then looks at him, eyes trailing down to where the sweatpants hung low on his hips. “Put a fucking shirt on, floozy.”
“I couldn’t find one,” he replies with a small smirk. “You must’ve used ‘em for fuel for the fireplace.”
She stands up straight and walks up to him. “Why are you here, Simon?” Her voice is quiet, calm, waiting.
He looks down at his feet, shifts his weight and murmurs, “Missed you.”
“You left me.”
“I know.”
“You start going to therapy yet?” She asks and he purses his lips.
“SAS doesn’t exactly offer therapy, y’know that, right? Not exactly ‘ow we operate.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “You know I asked that friend of yours, what was his name? Soap? He said that the SAS offers routine psychiatric care and therapy. He also happened to mention you conveniently manage to get out of it every single time.”
Simon lets out a grunt and pinches his brow. “Soap can’t mind ‘is own fuckin’ business.”
“He’s your friend. And he was also drunk.” She waves a hand. “Regardless, you haven’t done the one thing I told you that you would have to do if you wanted to come back—no, when you came crawling back.”
“I don’t need therapy. I just want a second chance.” He shifts to his full height, looks at her with a pleading look. “Things were good between us, love. You know they were.”
“Sure, when you weren’t shutting down when you were hurting emotionally or running off to God knows where when you had a mission and didn’t leave me a notice.”
Simon sighs. “I was protectin’ you. I didn’t wanna drag you into all the shit I ‘ave to deal with on a daily. I didn’t want you to have to put up with…all of…”
She gives him a hard look. “Simon Riley, what part of me gave you the notion that I ever need to be protected or sheltered from what you do?”
He swallows thickly and gazes into her eyes. “Love…you’re too pure for me. What I do…you don’t need to know the horrors I’ve committed. You’re…you’re too beautiful for such things.”
“You mean how you kill people with no emotion? How you’ve taken lives with your bare hands? How you shove so much of yourself down into the black hole until there’s no humanity left but ‘Ghost’, the hollow killer?”
Simon stares at her, throat bobbing as he replies, “I can’t drag you to hell with me, it would kill me, love. What if—”
“Do you know the moment I knew I was in love with you?” She interrupts and he falls silent. “I was sick that one day a year ago, bad sick. And you told me not to go into work, but I didn’t listen and when I came home early, I could barely walk straight.” She places a hand on her hip. “And you helped me into the bathroom. Ran a bath in the dark, lit a few candles and you bathed me. Washed my hair. Took care of me. You were so gentle and so loving. Like a priest tasked with cleaning his alter, you cleansed me and made me feel safe.”
He shifts uncomfortably but his body language is anything but repulsed; it’s soft. “You started cryin’ when I was washin’ your hair. Thought I got soap in your eyes. But you said you just felt so loved.” He smiles then. “You were like a kitten really. Could barely lift your head. So tired and weak.”
“Mhm. And then you tucked me into bed and crawled beneath the covers with me. Laid up beside me, never once acted sexual. Just…caring.” She looks at him. “Do you remember what I said to you before I went to sleep?”
“No,” he mutters but he looks up at the ceiling and she knows he’s lying, it’s his tell-tale sign.
She gives him the benefit of the doubt and closes the distance between them, lays her hands on his chest, and says, “I said, ‘This is the real man beneath all that coldness. The real Simon. The one I knew I loved more than anything. No matter what.’”
Simon shudders beneath her touch, feels weak in his knees like he might drop to his and worship at her feet, beg for forgiveness like a sinner in confession. His chest aches, tightening as the words tear violently at his chest, a reminder that he left one of the only good things to ever come into his life, all because he was too afraid to let the walls come down, too afraid to be vulnerable, too afraid to risk being hurt—because if she hurt him, he’d never come back from it. In the end, he’d felt like a fool trying to protect a damsel who never needed saving in the first place; and he was left with the realization that she’d been protecting him the entire time.
“I know what you do, Simon. I know it’s hard, even if you don’t think it is. I know that no matter how you push your humanity down into that hole that it’s still there. I know killing someone takes something from you every time but, Simon, I’m not your enemy. I love you.” Her eyes are calm, but her voice is firm. “And I will not stand on the outside of the lines under some guise of protection. You either be upfront and honest with me about everything or you leave, and you don’t come back.”
Simon knows she’s asking him to choose now, and he feels that creeping anxiety rise in his throat like bile until he manages, “Can…can we talk about everything in the morning?”
She sighs and pulls her hands away. “Yeah, I guess so. Sheets and blankets are in the hall closet. You know where the couch is.”
“You’re not going to let me sleep in the bed?” He sounds incredibly offended.
“Couch, Riley.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but he can’t help but smile when she sets the bedding out on the couch for him. “Goodnight, love,” he murmurs as she passes, and her shoulders tense and she waves a hand.
“Goodnight, Simon.”
He sits on the couch for a few moments, watches the rain splatter against the window, the clock ticking on the wall, before he pulls out his phone and simply types, “I love you,” and sends it.
It’s quiet for a solid ten seconds before he hears, “You absolute bastard!” From the bedroom followed by, “Get in here!”
Simon gives a victory dance as he clears his throat and attempts to look innocent as he steps into her bedroom; she glowers and points to the other side. “You’re on that side.”
“You can make me,” he retorts and crawls into the middle of the bed, groaning when all the bones in his body snap and pop.
She rolls her eyes and goes back to her book, but after a moment, she shifts against the headboard, getting comfortable again. Simon lifts his head, watches her, then he moves and lays his head in her lap, his arms wrapped around her hips under the pillows behind her. Her eyes rise to the wall in front of her and she stares unamusedly at it before she switches the book into her other hand and rests her right hand at the back of his neck, gently thumbing the juncture of his spine and skull. He groans beneath her touch, shifts himself so that she has control over moving him, body going slack when she scratches her nails into his scalp.
“You’re like a cat,” she mutters, feeling his lips turn up against her thigh.
“Meow,” he mimics, and she snorts, feeling him move until his head is pressed into her stomach, face turned so she can see the right profile.
He watches until she puts the book down on her nightstand and turns into him; they gaze at each other, and his eyes gently shut when she cups his face, thumbs brushing over his features.
“You know I’m giving you another chance, don’t you?”
Simon swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “…yeah.”
“But we’ve gotta change. Or else we’ll end up back where we were before we broke up.”
“I know.” He opens his eyes and looks at her. “I’ve missed you, love.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she murmurs, bending down to press her lips to his forehead. “Doesn’t feel the same without you haunting my apartment.”
His lips turn up in a smile as she pulls back and lays on the pillows; Simon rises and crawls up her body, his nose brushing hers as he whispers, “I’ll do better for you. I’ll change. I swear it.”
“Yeah?”
His gaze turns solemn in a way she’s never seen before as he replies, “On their grave, I will.”
She smiles softly at him, pulls him down so his face is tucked in her neck, and replies, “Get some sleep.”
“I love you,” he mutters against her warm skin, arms tucked safely around her, body weight comfortably on her. “I love you more than the world.”
“I love you,” she says back, reaching up to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.
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jongseongsnudes · 7 months
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pretty
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bff!jake. 1.6k. smut ft. roommate!jay.
“i- wh- what the actual fuck?”
“i said what i said, let me suck you.”
“you’ve lost it,” the startled man leans away from you, his face contorted from your sudden suggestion, “all that studying finally broke you.”
“god jake,” you roll your eyes and lean forward, almost closing the gap between your bodies entirely, “why are you making it more complicated than it needs to be? i just need to suck your dick for like a minute.”
the poor man’s expression is one that has you immediately in a fit of laughter, confusion, disgust with a hint of arousal, all displayed across his face at the same time.
yes, it was a weird request to make towards your best friend but it’s not like you haven’t done it before. and for some unexplainable, wild reason, sucking his dick always calmed you. especially in times when you were stressed over your head about classes.
like right now.
“who asks their bestfriend shit like this like it’s the most normal thing to do?”
“for the last time. sim jaeyun will you let me suck you off?” you get up from the bed as you say so, arms folded, your tone more of a threat than a question, “you do realise jay is next door, and i’m pretty sure he’d be more than willing to let me suck-”
“okay okay! for fucks sakes suck me then! no need to bring out the government name.”
your hand is already at his thigh before he could even finish his sentence, immediately palming him through his sweat pants. with an accomplished grin on your face, you kneel down in between his spreaded legs on the floor, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. it’s something you know for a fact jake likes you doing, giving him that full attention, like he’s the only thing that mattered to you in the moment.
“fuck- why do you do this shit to me?” he whispers, his voice much lower than before. he watches you through lidded eyes, his gaze entirely on your new submissive position in front of him, “you’re so evil.”
“and you love it, jake.”
the way his dick twitches in your hand to the call of his name only excites you more, further pushing you to get a move on. so you do just that, pulling off his pants and boxers down to his ankles in one quick motion before grabbing onto his member.
the man’s deep groans instantly fill the room as you begin to jerk him painfully slow, your evil self enjoying the situation a little too much. you can’t help but pout when you notice the way his clutch on the bedsheets tightens because it should be your hair he’s gripping. not the damn bedsheets.
“c- come on don’t tease.”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about...” lies. you knew exactly what you were doing, and to make things worse for him, you decide to lean in closer to his leaking tip. but obviously not close enough.
the frustrated sigh that emits from his throat is hard to miss, the sound making you chuckle a little to yourself.
he’s so desperate for you, just like how you wanted him to be.
“you’re so hard jake... look at you.”
“i swear to god- oh shit!”
your lips pressing onto his tip is enough to have him in a puddle, his words no longer coherent. it makes you feel good to be able to make jake turn into such a mess, without having to do much at all.
“you enjoy doing this to me don’t you?” there’s a sudden change in his eyes, his gaze dark and serious as he reaches out to grab the back of your neck, holding you still in place to look at him, “you’re such a brat.”
if there’s one thing you’ve learnt about jake over the years, is that the man is a big softie when it comes to you, always letting you have your way no matter how ridiculous it is.
but the only times jake will not let you have your way are times like these. it’s as if something switches in him, going from soft to dominant all in two seconds when you push the right buttons.
when you were bratty.
and god was this jake hot.
“jake...”
“you were all talk before,” he taunts, a smirk forming on the end of his lips, “go on. show me what that mouth can do besides shit talk.”
and you didn’t need to be asked twice, especially not by jake sim.
your mouth quickly wraps around his hard on, barely managing to take half of it before you can feel it hit the back of your throat. although you’ve done this numerous times before, jake’s size always managed to surprise you.
no more words are needed, the room now filled with his grunts and the sound of you slobbering all over his dick. you know you should be embarrassed by your noises, but you’re not, your only goal now was to please the man.
often enough, you’d imagine how good it’d feel to have him fuck you with it. making you feel good, making you cum.
it was so wrong to have such fantasies about your best friend but every time you’re in bed with your hands down your pants, there’s no one else you’d rather think of but jake sim.
tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes as you continue moving your head, sucking on his length like your life depended on it. hard and fast, edging the man closer and closer towards his release.
his tightened grip on the back of your neck tells you that he’s close. so you do what you do best, grabbing onto his base with both your hands, stroking it in sync with your mouth.
“f- fuck- i’m gonna-” he mumbles while trying to pull your head away but you don’t budge, hinting for him continue on. and he does just that, finishing deep in your mouth, his cum slowly dripping out the corners of your lips as you pull away.
he tastes bitter, the vast amount a little hard to swallow but you manage nonetheless. the sight of you struggling has the man smirking, obviously loving the way you look with his mess dripping down onto your top.
“you look so pretty like this.”
“pretty only like this? wow you’re such a gentleman sim.”
“no,” he chuckles before pulling you up, your body slightly falling onto his at the force. his arms are quick to stable you, literally manhandling you to straddle over his lap in which you were more than happy to do, “you’re always pretty. the prettiest.”
your heart unknowingly skips a beat to his sudden compliment, as if you didn’t just suck him off and as if there wasn’t a massive cum stain on your top. you knew jake had a way with his words when it came to the ladies but this? this wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, not to you, his best friend.
“what?” he laughs, his hands already at the ends of your top, hastily pulling it over without hesitation, “where did that bratty mouth of yours go?”
“jake...” you whimper at the coldness hitting your skin, the sensation making you hard inside your bra.
“shit. you’re perfect.”
he yanks on your hair as he says so, pulling your head back so he could attack the exposed skin on your neck. you’re already a moaning mess at this point, the feeling of his lips on your sensitivity, one that has you seeing white all over.
“you don’t like it when i’m nice but prefer it when i’m like this?” his grip in your hair tightens more, making you whimper out in surprise, much to his liking. you could feel him smiling into your skin, as if pleased by your reaction to his actions.
the man is being rough and as sick as it was, you were enjoying every second of it.
“you even sound pretty, i wonder what you’d sound like if i were to fuck you,” jake’s voice is one you’ve never heard from him before, raspy and deep. even deeper than his morning voice, which you’ve always found so fucking hot already.
“do you want me to fuck you?”
“god yes jake, please.”
you never understood why you and jake hadn’t fucked yet. you’ve sucked his dick, given him handjobs and he has fingered you here and there. but that’s all it ever got to. despite the oh-so-obvious sexual tension that always followed you both aound, you two just didn't fuck.
“as much as i want to hear you, you have to try to be quiet tonight,” his lips makes its way towards yours, leaving behind a trail of gentle kisses on your skin, “jay is next door-”
“maybe you should’ve thought of that 30 minutes ago, when i was sleeping. too late now.”
and to your horror, there standing at jake’s opened door is his handsome roommate jay who looked like he was about to burn the apartment down with his glare alone. the man’s unkempt hair and boxers-only outfit tells you perhaps he had been sleeping, which made you feel awful for being so loud just now.
but despite his glares, you noticed one other thing. it’s that he’s looking directly at you, at your barely covered chest, like he had been the entire time he was standing there.
fuck.
end.
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miyasturniolo · 14 days
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RECORDING | chris sturniolo
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pairing: bf!chris x f!reader
summary: when chris stayed over at your place one night while you were home alone, you both started watching a film but as the evening progressed, you both became aroused, but he expressed a desire to capture the intimate moment on video.
warning: smut, dominant chris, pet names (ma, good girl, mama, slut), unprotected sex, swearing, rough sex, hair pulling, use of y/n, praise kink, recording sex, dirty talking, oral female receiving, p in v, nipple playing, fingering, teasing, choking kink.
a/n: not my photos, found on pinterest. I had to mention about the star stickers which the teacher have.
WORDS: 2.3k
miyasturniolo on wattpad
you - pink | chris - orange
-
Chris was nestled between your legs, resting his head on your stomach. His eyes were fixed on the film playing, while his hand absentmindedly rubbed your skin.
You ran your hands through his brown hair, giving him a gentle massage that elicited a subtle pleasure, though he would never admit it, he secretly enjoyed when you touched his hair.
The movie played in the background, a choice he made and you agreed to. He fidgeted slightly but remained between your legs, his gaze still fixed on the movie instead of his usual tendency to chatter about it.
The only noise in the room was the Tv playing. "I don't get why people can't just express their feelings. No need for those awkward teenage drama moments," he remarked.
You chuckled softly, continuing to braid his hair, although it was too short for a full braid. "Exactly”
He let out a sigh of relief. “Finally, someone who agrees,” he said. “I swear I would lose my mind if you didn’t agree”
You looked at him before speaking. “You can’t really say anything though, you were a nervous wreck to ask me out”
“I WAS NOT!” He rolled his eyes, he knew he was lying to himself.
You smirked and moved your hands out of his hair, which made him to look at you. “Why did you let go?” He asked.
He noticed you grabbed your phone and saw that you had received a message from someone, which made him frown, though he didn't show it. “Who is it?” he inquired.
“A friend” You simply replied to his question, but you didn't respond to the text. Placing your phone on the bedside table, you then put your hands on his shoulders and began massaging them.
He let out a small moan, initially feeling tense but eventually relaxing. He smiled and rubbed your thigh before turning his attention back to the movie.
The heat of his body against yours as he lay between your legs made him reluctant to move. He reassured himself that he would be fine, especially since he was only wearing boxers.
After five minutes, you shifted your hands so they were on his chest while he leaned against you even though he jumped slightly at your touch.
He couldn't resist the desire for your hands to caress his skin, no matter how warm he felt. His heart briefly sped up before calming down.
"You're so touchy," he whispered, taking your hands from his chest and placing them in his own. "I'm not," you replied.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he said, shifting so his head rested on your chest. He continued to stroke your knuckles, but you eventually withdrew your hands, which he didn't seem to mind.
You were not following the movie's plot, but he appeared to understand it. You didn’t know but he wasn’t focusing on it, he was just thinking of what happened if he recorded you two.
"Can I record?" he asked, leaving you confused as he struggled to explain himself. His gaze was fixed on you, noticing your confusion, which made him huff in frustration.
"What I mean is, can I record? You know..." he trailed off, struggling to articulate his request. "Record what?" you questioned.
"For fuck sake. Can we record us having sex? I promise not to share it with anyone, I'm just... turned on and I think it would be different to have a recording of it," he blurted out quickly, his words not going unnoticed by you.
His proposition left you stunned for a moment, but Chris stood by his words. He was eager to go through with it, confident that you trusted him enough not to share it with anyone, not even his brothers, and he wouldn't risk posting it online due to his status as a YouTuber.
"Please?" he whispered, clearly aroused by the idea. The thought of capturing the way he made love to you on and having it on his phone for when you were apart seemed even more enticing to him.
He shifted slightly so that his erection pressed against your leg, silently conveying his desire. He exhaled softly, showing his determination.
“Can you promise to not show?” Your confident tone reflected your certainty that he wouldn't show it, but you wanted to confirm. He nodded and kept his gaze fixed on you. “Alright, go get the camera,” you instructed, kissing his forehead.
Without hesitation, he complied, eager to capture the moment. He was undeniably aroused and well-versed in what to do; he enjoyed hearing your moans and desired your vocal pleasure. He had a repertoire of tricks up his sleeve.
After adjusting the camera angle, he began recording. He had long harbored this desire but lacked the opportunity or courage to act on it. The scene felt reminiscent of a porn video.
Returning to the bed, he climbed on top of you, his eyes locked on yours. Your innocent appearance drove him wild, though he was aware of your true nature.
He started by softly kissing your lips, but soon the air was thick with lust, leading to more passionate kisses. He was clearly eager for more.
Your heart raced as his hands slipped under your shirt and squeezed your breasts, causing you to let out a soft moan that made him pause to maintain eye contact with you.
"Do you like that, ma?" he whispered before planting a kiss on your neck, eliciting shaky breaths from you. "Use your words," he instructed. "Yes," you managed to utter.
He played with your nipples through the shirt from a brand called Fresh Love, which belonged to him. With a smirk, he then removed your shirt, leaving you in his boxers that you found comfortable, while he remained in his own.
"I know you're so soaked for me and I know I'm right," Chris said as he caressed your cheek. "I'm going to make you lose control with how intensely I pleasure your tight little pussy."
“then do it..” your voice was heaven to him.
He slowly released his grip and glanced down before proceeding to undress you completely, exposing your naked body to him. "Fuck mama, you are so stunning. I can't believe how incredible you are."
He was unsure where to begin, your body felt incredibly soft, adorned with fading hickeys from your last intimate encounter.
Before kissing you, he gazed into your eyes as your hands found their way into his hair, causing a whimper to escape him. Despite the sensation, he didn't pull away. "You're so handsome," you whispered, prompting a smile to grace his lips during the kiss.
The kiss lingered a little longer before he gently pulled back to catch his breath, his breathing slightly erratic but he paid it no mind. "You're so beautiful," he replied.
His desire for you was palpable, yearning for the touch of his cock against your skin, or even better, to be inside you. He craved everything, but most of all, he craved you and your happiness.
With that in mind, he guided you to the end of the bed, ensuring the camera could capture both of you. With your legs spread open, he admired your pussy, his blue orbs fixed on it, taking in every detail he adored.
"You're such a good girl for listening," Chris murmured as he ran his thumb over your folds, eliciting a surprised moan from you. "I'll make you climax if you widen your legs," he promised, and you complied.
Once you released his hair, he moved his hand to your thigh, his fingers slick from how wet you were for him, but he didn't mind. Despite your hesitation, he kept his hand on your thigh to maintain the connection.
Suddenly, his tongue traced a teasing path around your folds, eliciting moans from you as you tugged at his hair, causing him to revel in both pleasure and pain.
"Wow, aren't you a fan of hair pulling?" he teased, although he secretly wished you would do it more. Your nails lightly grazed his scalp, intensifying his moans and sending more sensations through your body.
Your essence coated his tongue and soon his lips, ending the teasing. His desire was palpable, his arousal demanding attention.
"Close your legs while I taste you," he pleaded, the vibrations still resonating through your body. You followed his request.
With a slight smirk, he intensified the head game, adding a rough edge that you both craved. He was eager to leave his mark on you.
As he hit the sweet spot with his tongue, you couldn't help but clench in pleasure, your moans like music to his ears.
"You're such a slut for me, and I love it," he murmured, feeling your thighs around him driving him wild. Sensing your impending climax, he intensified his efforts, determined not to let up.
"I'm close..." you gasped, but he only quickened his pace, eliciting even louder moans from you.
Your orgasm left his lips and chin glistening, he loved the way you taste and even more than Pepsi.
Your passionate cries fueled his desire, momentarily forgetting they were being recorded, grateful for the genuine sounds of pleasure you were sharing.
He guided you to open your legs, pulling away with a groan of anticipation, his arousal evident as he prepared to take things further.
"You taste so good," he whispered before kissing you again, savoring the lingering flavor on your lips but soon pulling away. As he laid you back on the bed, he noted, "You look so innocent.. even though you aren’t.”
"The way you look at me makes me want to fuck you roughly until you see stars," Chris says to you, making you smile. "Then you should do it," you reply.
He smirks, kissing your neck and leaving a few fresh love bites on your body, in addition to the faint ones.
"Your words, not mine," he says against your neck before pulling away to look at his body on top of yours, then he takes off his boxers.
Both of you naked, the room filled with passion and love. He was large, maybe even too large, but you didn't mind; he always found a way to make it all fit.
As you lay bare together, with him on top of you, he kissed your lips once more before using his two fingers to stimulate you, "Please, Chris," you whimpered.
The recording was still in progress, indicating that everything was being captured.
"Tell me how much you need me, come on, y/n," he smirked, encouraging you to speak. "Badly," you responded.
He then removed his fingers from your intimate area, kissed your forehead, and slowly entered you with his sizeable length.
You let out a mixture of a painful groan and pleasure due to his size. "Take it slow, you're doing great," he whispered, gently moving your hair aside.
Continuing to push himself into you, he kissed you and whispered sweet words. He grunted and moaned though, trying to maintain control as you felt tight around him.
He caressed your cheek before starting to thrust into you, already targeting your g-spot. "Good girl, ma," he praised as he increased the intensity.
The pain had transformed into pleasure, and Chris found your moans endearing now that it was all about pleasure.
He began to get more intense, gripping your legs as he gazed at you. You looked so beautiful, the way you arched your back and your eyes rolled back; he loved it because he knew he was treating you right.
Your bodies were colliding with a rhythm that seemed endless, and the sounds of your passion would surely echo in a recording.
He grunted as he felt himself losing control, realizing he wouldn't stop even if he tried. It was like a powerful addiction once he was inside you, and he couldn't resist it.
Continuing his movements, he left harsh hickeys all over your chest as well, while your hands explored his back, leaving definite scratches.
"Shit," you whispered, beginning to feel your climax, which made him smile as he could already tell by the expression on your face and the way you were tighter around him.
"Let go for me, ma" he urged, picking up his pace. He grasped your neck, causing your breath to catch and your eyes widen in surprise as he pleasured you thoroughly.
As he continued hitting the spot you desired, you quickly coated his dick and a bit of your bedsheets in seconds. Your moans grew louder as he released his grip on your neck slightly, but still applying some pressure.
He climaxed inside you, letting out a groan and closing his eyes tightly. "fucking hell, ma" he whispered before laying on top of you, still inside you.
Your sweaty bodies pressed against each other, but you didn't mind. You ran your fingers through his damp hair, both of your heartbeats racing, especially yours since he had fully released your neck now, allowing you to breathe properly.
He snuggled closer to you, locking eyes with you. "I love you," he mumbled, his face flushed from the heat.
"I love you too," you replied, causing him to smile as he traced his thumb over the fresh hickeys on your neck and breasts.
You praised him for him for how good he was which he thoroughly enjoyed. He smiled before shifting to cuddle you better, no longer inside you. “I should get those star stickers which teacher have and give you some since you’ve praised me.”
MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO
1K notes · View notes
un-lawliet · 6 months
Note
WHAT IF teen!Gojo and teen!reader are best friends teetering on the edge of lovers but they get into a petty little argument and start ignoring each other right???? so reader goes on a date with someone else to be petty and Gojo internally freaks out. So, him and his friends get in disguises as Gojo tries to sabotage the date without being noticed but instead he accidentally helps the other guy look great and impressive every time💀
Geto, shoko, and Nanami don’t help Satoru. They just watch and laugh😭 good fluffy ending though pls
THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST !!!!! i loved this idea so so much- i kinda tweaked the request slightly but i hope this is ok <3 i love you and thank you for your patience !
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“Normal”
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- in which you’re on a date with someone that isn’t Gojo.
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“Does this count as stalking?”
It absolutely did count as stalking.
Gojo, Shoko, Nanami and Geto were currently huddled in a dimly lit booth hunkering down as to not be seen by you…or your pompous looking date sat opposite you.
“It’s not stalking.” Gojo splutters, glaring at Geto through the top of his sunglasses, “It’s just..just-”
“You tracking Y/N down and making us watch her on a date.” Shoko muses, rolling a cigarette between her fingers, reaching for her lighter.
“Exactly!”
Nanami groans, his head falling backwards, hair falling over the curve of his eyebrows, hiding his face slightly.
Shaking his head, a small grin dances across Geto’s calm face, watching as Gojo pouts and glares at your table, eyes completely trained on your face.
“‘S’not even that good looking, she just has a thing for guys that flatter her.” He grumbles under his breath, flicking the fancy wall he leaned on.
“Think most girls enjoy feelin’ pretty Gojo.” Shoko replies, hand still feeling around in her pocket, “Oh fuck sakes, I’ve lost my lighter…Hey- Geto, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare one on ya?”
Geto nodded, tossing her a purple lighter from across the table, smiling gently as she thanked him.
“You shouldn’t smoke inside.” Nanami mutters, now staring down at the menu in-front of him, finger tracing along the prices in thought, seeming to pause on the brownie section.
“No one can see, we’re fine.” She sighs, taking a drag and blowing it towards Gojo, grinning as he dramatically clutches his chest, gasping for air.
“What’s the point of us even being here Gojo.” Nanami huffs, side eyeing the bakery stand parallel to their table.
“Because, I need to show her that this..this loser is nothing compared to me!”
“I don’t know Satoru.” Geto muses, taking a sip of his camomile, “Y/N seems pretty into him.”
“Suguru!” Gojo gasps in horror, betrayal dripping from his voice and on to the curve of his disgusted face.
Shoko wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, inhaling before continuing. “He has a point Gojo, I mean look, you ever see her smile like that?”
Gojo whips his head around to stare at you, and Shoko covers her mouth to hide a poorly restrained giggle, sharing a glance with Geto.
“I make her smile like that- She smiles like that with me!!” He whines, and Nanami rolls his eyes.
A waitress smashes a glass from behind the café’s counter, you jump slightly in your seat and turn to look over at the sound, you don’t notice the group of strange looking teenagers ducking down at your movement, concealing themselves poorly in their seats.
Your date laughs at you, you blush and turn back to him bashfully, excusing yourself for being so on edge.
Gojo glares.
“So what’s the plan then Gojo.” Nanami drawls, resting his face on his palm.
“Yes! The plan!” Gojo splutters, looking away from your pretty, pretty face to look at the three of them.
He hesitates and Shoko groans.
“You do have a plan don’t you?”
“Of course I do!..So, the plan..the plan um, well-”
“He has no plan.” Geto interrupts.
“Jesus Christ Gojo.”
“Does that mean I can leave?”
“Shut up!” Gojo exclaims, “I’m thinking give me a second would ya?”
“Nanami if your leaving I’m coming with you.”
“Wanna go now Shoko?”
“Guys!”
Gojo slumps forward in his chair, his face resting on the table as he whines.
Geto rests a hand on his back and chuckles, shaking his head at the two other sorcerers.
“It’s ok Satoru, we can all figure something out ‘kay?”
“Yea?” Gojo replies, his voice muffled by the table.
“Yea.”
Instantly, Gojo springs up, his eyes as wide as his smile.
“Ok let’s brainstorm.” Geto suggest, his voice like honey as he removes his hand from Gojo’s back and reaches back to his tea.
“What if we spill tea over him!” Gojo gasped, pointing towards the cup in Geto’s hand, a sharp look crossing his face.
“Stupid. Y/N would see us.” Shoko grumbles.
“No- See Shoko, the point of a brain storming session means we make suggestions and listen without judgement.” Gojo argues, crossing his arms.
“Yea but your idea was stupid.” Nanami concludes, watching as Shoko nods.
“You suggest something then Nanamin!”
“I’m suggesting nothing, this whole idea is foolish.”
“OoOoh “Foolish” is it?”
“I’m leaving.”
Nanami stands up reaching for his bag, scowling at Gojo.
“Hey, hey Nanami c’mon ignore him he’s just..” Geto pauses with a quick regard to Gojo, “He’s just Satoru.”
“An idiot.” Shoko chimes.
“Yes, an idiot.”
Nanami sighs as he sits down, placing his brown bag back at his feet reluctantly ignoring Gojo’s grin.
“…What if we trip up the waitress as she’s bringing them their food.” Shoko suggests, twirling a piece of hair around her finger.
“That could work!”
“No, Satoru, that just causes trouble to the waiting staff.”
“And?”
Geto rolls his eyes, “We don’t need to cause anyone any trouble just because you’re too afraid to just ask Y/N out.”
“I am not afraid!” Gojo moans, putting his face in his hands.
“Uh huh, that’s why you fell out with her when she told you about the date.” Shoko laughs, wiping off ash from her arm.
“What was I supposed to do?” Gojo queries, frowning.
“Talk to her?” Nanami deadpans, “Like a normal person.”
“Our Gojo isn’t normal though.” Shoko winks, nudging an unamused Nanami.
“Focus guys.” Geto says, clapping his hands twice to draw attention.
Your sweet laugh echoes through the cafe, and Gojo pouts, shoulders slumping.
You were supposed to be sitting opposite him laughing.
It was supposed to be his food with which you shared.
And yet one petty argument about some random guy you had met in returning from your last mission asking you out, had ruined everything.
The shared glances between you and Gojo, how you leaned on his shoulder when you slept in classes, the way he would always keep an eye on your cursed energy when joining you in battle.
All those little moments had dissolved in the bitter moments after you informed him of your date, a small smile dancing in your eyes.
“He said I was pretty Toru’” You had said, your eyes wide, and Gojo wanted to cover the love sick gleam glistening in your eyes with his hand.
“I always think your pretty.” He mumbled, watching you cock your head in confusion.
“What was that?” You questioned, leaning towards him slightly, trying to recall his quiet words.
“Nothin’.” His curt response didn’t phase you as you moved backwards, a charming skip in your step.
“Think he sounds stupid.” Gojo was never good at expressing his true feelings, and in that moment, Gojo’s sheer panic over you leaving him overpowered his aloofness.
“You think someone thinking I’m pretty is stupid?” Your shoulders fell, and you turn to him, a small lour crossing your face.
“What? No? That’s not what I-”
“It what’s you said though Toru’” You sighed, and Gojo cursed at himself for the glimmer of insecurity that appeared to vex you in that moment.
“It’s just- Well he’s just stupid.”
“So you are calling him stupid for telling me I’m pretty.”
“No! He’s stupid! Not his words!”
“That’s the same thing Gojo!”
“Is not!”
“Is too!”
And now Gojo’s watching as Geto summons one of his smallest and weakest curses to push your stupid dates chair over, sunglasses off and held in his fist.
“Oh so we’re actually going with this plan? I wasn’t imagining it?” Shoko muses, stealing a forkful of Nanami’s brownie.
“Nobody else had any better ideas.” Gojo silenced, waving a hand in her direction, practically clamouring on top of Geto to watch.
“Satoru watch it, I can’t see where my curse is going with you on me.” Geto scolds, brushing the white haired man off.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Nanami’s disinterest oozes out from his voice, nudging his plate over to Shoko who smiles brightly at his offer.
Geto flexes his hand, ensuring that the curse went unnoticed by you, it ducked under a table and weaved between chair legs.
“Make sure Y/N doesn’t see it!” Gojo panics, his hand covering his mouth.
Geto pauses, and looks over his shoulder towards Gojo, eyebrow raised.
“…Sit down Satoru.”
And Gojo immediately drops, hands on his legs.
The curse bobbles over to under your dates chair, and Geto smiles, before releasing his hold.
.
.
.
The sound of your dates chair toppling over boomed through the cafe, and with a swift flick of his finger, the curse dissapears, and all four of the sorcerer’s immediately drop their heads.
“Oh my God? Are you ok?!” Your concerned voice follows, and you stand up instantly, rushing towards your date, who grins at you from the floor.
“Oops, must have slipped.” He smiles, accepting your hand in helping in up, wiping the memory of his fall off of his jeans. “At least I have a pretty lady to help me in my moment of weakness.”
You giggle, and push his shoulder, “Oh shush you tease.” Bending over to pick up his chair.
“Oh no don’t worry I got it.” Your date winks, helping you lift the chair.
“How??!?!” Gojo groans, watching you swoon, “What is happening?”
“Man.. She must really like him eh?” Shoko offers, sharing a cheeky smile with Geto.
“Maybe it’s hopeless.” Nanami chimes in, “Do you want to finish this?” He asks Shoko, gesturing to the half eaten brownie.
“Actually?”
“Yea go on, you seem to be enjoying it.”
“Maybe.” Geto cuts in, “Maybe we should just leave them be? Let it fizzle out naturally?”
“What if there is no naturally Suguru.” Gojo mopes, kicking the leg of the table.
“Gojo it’s obvious she likes you, and it’s obvious you’re both smitten.” Shoko says, her voice muffled and she finishes Nanami’s brownie.
“..You think?”
“Everyone thinks.” Nanami replies, “Haibara thought you two were dating when we first joined the school.”
“How is Haibara by the way?” Geto questioned, “Why didn’t he join us?”
“Not sure, he said something about needing more sleep before his first solo mission.”
“Isn’t that next week?” Shoko adds.
“He likes his sleep.”
“Come on guys! Focus!!” Gojo exclaims. “I’m in a dire situation here!!”
“A dire situation that could be solved with a conversation, Gojo.” Nanami rolls his eyes.
“Try the curse again Suguru.”
“Satoru it didn’t work once, it probably won’t work a second time.”
“Ugh.” Gojo slumps back, a sigh escaping his lips. “If you’re all so sure Y/N likes me, then why is she with that loser right now?”
“She probably got tired waiting for you to make a move Gojo.” Shoko replies.
“Yea the “will they, won’t they” becomes tiresome after a while.” Geto agrees, pushing his empty cup towards the middle of the table.
“Ah!” Shoko says pointing over at you.
“They’re leaving Gojo.” Nanami affirms, joining Shoko in pointing.
“What?!?” Gojo gapes, “No!”
Geto laughs, shoving Gojo to his feet, watching you leave the cafe. “Go get her Satoru.”
“But how?” Gojo moans.
“Just go!” They all exclaim, and Gojo pauses for a split second before he’s bounding towards the door.
By the time he’s outside, you’re waving goodbye to your date, promising to call him as he walks the other way.
You look happy he thinks, and suddenly feels very out of place.
Gojo’s begins to turn to go back into the cafe, admitting defeat, when he hears your voice behind him.
“Gojo?” You gasp, disbelief permeating from your voice. And Gojo freezes, turning around awkwardly to face you.
“Hi.” Gojo replied, scuffing his shoes against the ground as he approaches you, hands in his pockets attempting to appear cool.
You look at him, your mouth slightly agape as you fiddle with the sleeve of your jumper, processing his appearance.
“You followed me to my date?” You ask accusingly, glancing around.
“He didn’t offer to take you home?” Gojo chooses to ignore you, refusing to acknowledge the implication of your words.
“I told him I could go back by myself.”
“Some guy.”
“Satoru.” You pause, lifting a hand to stop him, “Why are you here?”
A car drives past the pair of you, it’s headlights cast shadows across his perfect face and your hold yourself back from staring.
He stalls, looking at you for a moment. “C’mere, I’ll walk you home.”
“Satoru.”
You’re tired of his deflections, for once you just want to talk.
You both stare at each-other, silence decorating the air between you.
And Gojo shakes his head, stepping backwards and looking away.
“You look good.” He mutters.
“Good?”
“Pretty alright? You look pretty, he was right.”
“My date?”
Gojo’s sunglasses fall down the bridge of his nose slightly as he leans down to look at you.
“Who else?” He muses.
You don’t understand, your heart fluttering pathetically in your chest as you prove further.
“Why are you telling me this now?” You ask, your voice light, scarce of hope.
“Because.” Gojo hesitates, hating how unsure he sounds in this moment. “Because you are.”
You step towards him, it’s a slow movement and Gojo watches you almost cautiously.
“It took me going on a date with someone else for you to finally say something?” You tease, your hands shaking despite the confidence in your words.
“Would have said something without him, y’know?”
“..Really?” Your eyes widen, a tiny grin crossing your face.
Gojo nods, and you take another step and hug him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest.
And Gojo’s smile almost hurts his cheeks as he wraps his arms around your figure, pulling you in closer.
“You’re an idiot.” You mumble, looking up at him.
“But you like me.” He replies, cockily grinning down at you, blue eyes sparkling.
“Yea, I do.” You whisper, clinging to him, moving your head backdown to face his chest, face burning with your confession.
A small kiss is placed on the top of your head and you hold back a giddy laugh, pulling away from his embrace completely.
“So…Does that mean you’ll let me take you out?” Gojo questions, taking your hand and pulling you gently along to walk with him.
“Hmm I don’t know..Are you asking?” Your head leans on his arm, grabbing his arm as you walk.
“I would take you somewhere much better than that shitty cafe.”
And you’re laughing, “You love that cafe Toru.”
And he laughs with you, a long arm circling around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
And Geto, Shoko and Nanami watch from the window of the cafe, shaking their heads.
“Idiots.” Shoko says.
“Completely.” Nanami agrees.
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Masterlist <3
Feel free to leave a request !
A/N : HELLLLLOOOO PEOPLE !! ABBY’S BACK !!! thank you for the request sweets this is literally one of my favourite concepts ever I cannot cope!!!! I love teenage Gojo so much :( BUT ALSO Shoko <333333 — i hope everyone is happy and healthy, i finished this at 2am and i have school tmrw pls kill me rn i hope a car hits me when i walk in, genuinley this no longer a joke.
LOVE YOU
3K notes · View notes
animexts · 9 months
Text
"You better die after me"
Characters: Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani and Sanzu Haruchiyo.
MASTERLIST | Open Requests!
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Ran Haitani
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"You better die after me" Ran says suddenly, watching Y/n make their lunch.
"What are you talking about silly?" Y/n says laughing.
"I know I'm kind of stupid sometimes-"
"Sometimes?" Y/n interrupts Ran, causing him to snort, and pull her onto her lap.
"I need you to know I mean it when I say I'm not going to live a life without you in it." Ran says kissing Y/n's cheek.
"Rindou wouldn't like to hear that."
"Oh come on, you know he likes you more than me." Ran says making Y/n laugh.
He watches her smile with hearts in her eyes.
"Please let me die first."
"Alright, stop saying those things Ran!
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Rindou Haitani
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"Woman!" Rindou says entering their shared room.
"What was Haitani Two?" Y/n responds without looking at her husband, still making the bed.
"You better-" He stopped as soon as he understood what she had said. "What did you call me?"
"Haitani two" Y/n says smiling innocently at husband.
"For the sake of our marriage, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."
"Right, and why did you look so angry?"
"Oh right...You better die after me!"
"Than you -" Rindou interrupts his wife holding her face and kissing her nose.
"I couldn't bear to see you go, so obey my order, and don't die before me!" Before his wife can answer, Rindou kisses her mouth.
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Sanzu Haruchiyo
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"Where is your lady, Sanzu?" Ran asks teasing Sanzu.
Yes, he knows that the best way to tease this maniac is by talking about his lady.
"She's home, safe at home." Sanzu responds without looking at Ran.
"How are you so sure she's safe?" Rindou says, making Sanzu look at him.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Sanzu gets up, facing Rindou.
"Calm down Sanzu, they're just being idiots." Kakucho says rolling his eyes.
The Haitani brothers laugh and go back to talking normally, but Sanzu can't stop thinking about what Rindou said.
He steps away from the group and, with trembling hands, dials his number, which he has memorized.
"Come on, fuck, pick up, please." he says as he hears it call three times.
"Hi love"
Sanzu closes his eyes relieved to hear his girlfriend's voice.
"Damn it, for the good of society You better die after me."
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4K notes · View notes
evie-sturns · 2 months
Text
ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ
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summary: matts been so busy with his filming schedule, that when he comes home you're basically begging for his touch for almost an hour, he finally gives in.
contains: smut, fingering, needy reader, softdom!Matt, swearing, small argument, crying.
--------------------└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘----------———
matt and I have been dating for almost a year, and in the past few months, he's been so busy to the point where I've just been hanging out at his house during the day, today is one of those days. I've been touch-deprived bed rotting in Matt's room.
the front door unlocks with a bang from downstairs, i sit up in matts bed, the blankets slowly falling off my chest. "matt!?" i call out, rubbing my face.
"hey baby", matt says while walking into the room, his voice is low and croaky. he doesnt even look my way as he slumps down on his desk chair.
he throws on his headphones, instantly starting to edit the Wednesday video.
"for fucks sake." i groan quietly, throwing my head back down into the pillows.
"matt." i whine, he looks over his shoulder at me "mm?" he says, his long fingers resting on the keyboard.
"i need you.." i say, maintaining eye contact with him.
he nods, turning back around to his computer, starting to edit again.
its not even been 10 minutes before my mouth is opening again.
"matthew."
"sweetheart what is it."he says, pulling his headphones off and spinning his chair back around to face the bed.
i pout my lips, "please come here, you can edit tommorow."
"i told you it'll be a while, i know your upset but this is very important." he says in a tone that reminds me of my childhood, hes acting like my dad.
"so more important than me then hm?" i roll my eyes.
"don't be silly." he replies.
-
45 minutes later
11:29pm
i've been laying in matts sheet for almost an hour while hes been editing, hes stopped replying to me everytime i say his name now.
i let out a dramatic sigh, which of course matt pays no attention to.
"for fucks sake matt!" i raise my voice, sitting up in bed.
"what. literally what." he says, slamming his headphones down into the desk.
"look, should i even be here? should i even be with you? you've quite literally payed no attention to me for like 3 months?! am i just a fuck toy now or what."
his eyes widen "oh please." he scoffs in disbelief, he head shaking in shock.
i stay silent, i need to have a proper conversation with him for once.
he powers off his computer before standing up abrubtly. he almost stomps over to the bed before laying down next to me. "happy?" he asks, his voice monotone.
"no, im fucking not matt." i say, my voice breaking followed by a sob.
i see matts head snap round to look at me, his eyes squinting.
"are you crying- shit.. wait."
i hide my face in my hands while matt sits up, he lets out a shaky breath.
"oh fuck no please don't cry" he says, placing a hand on the side of my face. "look at me, look at me y/n." matt says sternly.
i slowly peel my hands away from my face, tears now streaming down my cheeks. matts face is painted with guilt and concern.
"sit up." he says, which i do.
he grabs both sides of my face
"i love you so fucking much, you know that." matt says softly, staring into my eyes.
i shake my head "i'm not sure i know that anymore." i sniff.
matts jaw drops slightly, a silence filling the room.
"no, no nope. please don't ever say that." he starts.
"i am insanely grateful for you, work has been piling up like crazy and i know, i know i haven't had time for other people but once i get my yesterday's problem launched everything will be calm."
i hear the front door open from downstairs, chris and nicks chatter getting louder as they walk upstairs, but matt doesn't even bat an eye as he keeps rambling on.
"you're my favorite person ever, and i know i've been a proper dick these past weeks, but tommorow i have a day off, and if you would want we could go out, or-.. just lay here the whole day i really dont mind."
i wipe my eyes, leaning foward and grabbing matts jaw, pulling him into a passionate kiss.
we both pull away to catch our breath "can i do anything for you right now? to make you feel better.." matt says gentley, playing with my hair.
i nod, "just one thing.."
he nods, "yeah?" he smiles sweetly at me.
"i don't wanna say itt.." i say, my cheeks turning red
he lets out a small laugh, “it can’t be that bad"
i grab his hand, rings decorating his pinky finger, his pointer and his thumb.
i push down all of his fingers execpt for two, the ring finger and middle finger.
matt nods understandingly “yeah?”
“yeah..” i say back.
“you’ve got to tell me with your words gorgeous.”
“i need your fingers.” i reply
“where do you need them?” he teases back.
“in.. me?”
“there you go.” matt says, a smile spread across his face.
i lay back down in the sheets, peeling my shirt off my body. matt lays down too, “can you lay on your side for me?” he says, which i do.
he turns onto his side aswell, grabbing my waist and pulling me towards his body, my bare back pressed against the soft fabric of his shirt covering his torso.
he spoons me as his hand, which is decorated in rings, snakes round to the waist band of my pyjama shorts.
i feel his chest rise and fall against my back as his hand slowly pulls down the shorts to my knees.
matt traces random shapes up the inside of my thigh, slowly getting towards where i need him most.
a pathetic moan escapes my mouth as the cold metal of his ring grazes past my hole.
i haven’t been touched in so long that the smallest touch is embarrassingly driving me crazy.
“please.” i groan out, earning a small chuckle from matt into the back of my hair.
i look down at matts hand, which is resting on my pelvic bone.
"matt please-" i start but he cuts me off "i know, can you be nice and quiet for me? chris and nick are across the hall."
i nod "yes- yeah" i instantly reply.
his two fingers dip down to my clit, he rubs it slowly, barely applying pressure.
his elbow rests on my hip as his fingers pick up the pace, i feel matts breaths from behind me as i reverse back into him more, my back and ass fully pressed against matts chest and crotch.
i feel one of his fingers push against my entrance before he presses fully inside of me, his long finger filling me up. "fuck.." i say softly.
the feeling from matt ive been craving all day is turning me into a moaning mess.
he quickly adds his second finger, curling both of them inside of me. i grip the bedsheets in front of me as he repeatedly hits my g-spot.
i slam a hand over my mouth as i feel the knot in my stomach build up.
the fact i have to be quiet is making this 10 times hotter due to the fact matt usually lets me be as loud as i need to be, which is always loud.
"god 'feel so good around my fingers." matt says, his voice hoarse from behind me.
that'll do it
the knot in my stomach snaps, my hand thats on my mouth falls down into the mattress, gripping the sheets, "fuck matt oh my god!" i scream out, clenching around his fingers.
i feel matts breaths hitch against my back, he instantly pulls his fingers out of me and covers my mouth. "shh, shush" he laughs slightly.
i catch my breath slowly as matts hands keep on my mouth.
i roll over onto my back, matts still laying on his side.
"gross" i smile, "oh shit- yeah." matt says, taking the hand which was just inside me off my mouth.
i cuddle up next to him "thank you" i whisper as i pull up the blankets.
"no- no thank you for forgiving me" he says, rubbing my arms softly.
my eyelids feel heavy, somehow tired after doing nothing all day. matts tense underneath me, i assume hes just mad at himself about earlier but then the realization hits me that hes just fingered me for a few minutes without getting anything back.
"matt" i say, sitting up and pulling the blankets down. "what?" matt says, running a hand through his hair.
i point to his sweatpants, that have a very obvious tent.
"you're hard! why didn't you tell me i could've helped?" i say, reaching for his waistband.
matt grabs my wrist, stopping me "no- no its okay, i don't want you to have to do anything for me after i've been shitty to you."
"thats gotta hurt matt cmon, its okay." i laugh slightly, resisting matts grip on my wrist.
"no, no go to sleep sweetheart it'll go away in like 5 minutes." he says with a smile, pulling the blanket back up over us and playing with my hair.
i sigh "are you sure, i dont mind helping-" he cuts me off "im sure, get some rest."
-
10 minutes later.
i sit up in bed after hearing the bathroom door slam shut. matts no longer next to me.
my eyebrows scrunch as i stand up out of bed, stumbling over to the bedroom door and opening it.
i walk down the corrider to nicks room, i open it to find him fast asleep with chris on their beanbag.
i shut their door, walking over to the bathroom door.
i slowly push it open to find matt standing over the toilet, his eyes shut and head thrown back as he repetedy runs his ringed hand up and down his length quickly.
"oh-"
matts eyes open and his head swings round to look at me "what are you doing!" he says, frantically pulling up his sweatpants.
"im sorry im sorry!" i say, slamming the bathroom door shut.
i hear the water run before matt walks out of the bathroom only a few seconds later, his cheeks are a deep red and he has small droplets of sweat on his forehead.
he smiles at me awkwardly but i instantly grab his shoulders and spin him round.
"matthew go finish up in there, you've been hard for almost half an hour."
"o-okay yep thank you." he replies instantly, speed-walking back into the bathroom eagerly, slamming the door shut behind him.
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2K notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 4 months
Text
softness
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.
word count: 3.5k
a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.
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She’d made her entrance into the world early.
About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.
Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.
And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.
For several months, all you could do was hope.
Hope for a smooth pregnancy.
Hope for a safe labor and delivery.
Hope for a strong, healthy baby.
When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.
“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”
Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”
He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.
On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.
Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.
“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”
“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”
For a split second, that panic had ceased.
“She?”
Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”
“I did?”
“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”
Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.
“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”
He truly, honestly hadn’t.
It’d slipped before he could even think about it.
But his accidental slip had been right.
After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.
“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”
“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.
Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.
“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”
Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.
“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”
Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.
“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”
You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.
“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”
He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born. 
“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”
“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.
Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”
Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.
“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”
Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.
“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.
Dr. Porter walks into the room.
She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.
“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”
Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.
Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”
“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”
“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”
“How’s she sleeping?”
“Like a rock.”
“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”
You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”
“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”
Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”
“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”
After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.
Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.
“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”
“No.”
Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.
Your face falls. “Why not?”
“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”
“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”
“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”
“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”
“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”
“Take off your shirt.”
His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.
“What?”
“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”
The blood drains from his face and he pales. 
It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.
He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.
Still.
The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.
Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.
The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.
The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.
The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.
Joel?
He isn’t soft.
Nothing about him is soft.
Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.
“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”
Joel swallows harshly.
“What is it?”
“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”
Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”
His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.
Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.
The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.
And when it does, it breaks down.
“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”
Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”
You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.
The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.
It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.
He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate. 
And Rosemary stops crying.
She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.
Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”
“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”
Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.
“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.
“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”
Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really believe it?”
Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”
“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”
“Of course I do.”
“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”
Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”
Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.
Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.
Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”
“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”
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writingouthere · 5 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader, you go to check out a potential apartment and Sukuna joins because he is very helpful. Longest one yet so strap in!
cw:Sukuna waving his red flag like a matador while you do your best SZA impression
Sukuna thought you seemed more stressed than usual when he got home. You still talked through dinner and entertained your daughter but he could tell something was weighing on you. While Bug chased some very melted ice cream around her bowl with her spoon, he brought over some dishes to where you had already started washing the pans you'd used to make dinner.
"Thought I was responsible for the dishes since you made dinner," he reminded you, gently nudging you out the way.
"It's really not a bother and besides, you're already doing us such a big favor, letting us stay here," you said and you sounded a little choked up at the end which made him turn the water off so he could give you his full attention.
"How many times do I have to tell you I don't mind?" He couldn't help some frustration edging into his tone which only made you look sadder. He sighed and dried his hands on the towel, a new addition you had gotten, it was covered in sunflowers and it reminded him of you every time he used it.
"What's going on, you seem off today?"
You hesitated and he put his hand on your shoulder. He preened when you put your smaller hand on top of his and squeezed before giving you his full attention.
"I-I went to go see an apartment today and it was just awful." Sukuna barely fixed his face in time for you to look up at him. He had no idea you were even looking at other places. You'd barely been at his place a month and he had thought you had a good routine going on. You both split the household responsibilities and you spent your time not working together. He picked up your daughter twice a week now from daycare and took over Sunday mornings so you had some time to yourself. Someone at the grocery store had cooed over your adorable family and you hadn't even corrected them.
Obviously, you still weren't getting it and Sukuna reminded himself that it wasn't your fault. It was still like pulling teeth to get you to talk about your ex and honestly what he'd heard about your family hadn't really impressed him either. You had been taking care of yourself for far too long and it only made sense that you would be worried about being a burden on him when other people had made you feel like that rather than seeing caring for you as the privilege it was.
"Why was the apartment so awful?"
You bit your lip and he felt some concern that wasn't related to you potentially leaving. "What?"
"It was the usual, you know. It was over my budget and it was too small, I mean Bug is getting bigger every day, she needs her own room too. Then the building looks like it's only days away from collapsing and the guy who showed it, I mean he was just such a creep."
"Creep, how?"
You sighed and squeezed his hand again, but he wasn't sure if it was for your sake or you were trying to calm him down since he was sure his anger was obvious.
"It doesn't matter-
"Of course it matters, you're trying to find a home for you and your kid and some guy is making you feel uncomfortable in the space you might end up living-"
"-well I'm not going to live there, so. Doesn't matter," you say stubbornly and Sukuna hums but doesn't argue.
It's clear this is weighing on you, and while Sukuna has no intention of you moving out, unless it's him along with you, he figures this is a two birds one stone situation. Because fuck him if he was going to let you wander around the city being harassed by some dumb fucks who thought they could take advantage of a single mom.
"Are you seeing any other places," he asked and you bit your lip.
"Well, there was this one other place but after today I'm not sure-"
"Let me go with you," he said and you looked up at him and well, with the tears just beginning to fill your eyes and the little glimmer of hope he could see peaking out, how could he do anything but assure you. "Let me go with you and you can look around the place without worrying about anyone bothering you. Besides, it would make me feel better if I could scope out the place you and Bug might be moving to. I want to make sure you'll be safe."
Of course, you two would be safe because you would be with him but whatever got him to the showing.
"What about Bug?"
"Yuuji can watch her. He's been dying to babysit since he met her."
This was true. Sukuna's brother was suspicious, rightfully, of Sukuna and his intentions towards you, but Bug's cuteness was a great distraction whenever the three of them were together.
"Okay, okay. Tomorrow, could he watch her tomorrow?"
"Let me call, him. Don't worry, I'll take care of you, okay?"
You nodded and Bug started calling for you both. You went over to give your toddler the attention she clearly wanted while Sukuna finished the dishes and thought over how he would handle this situation tomorrow.
-------------------------------------------
The next day, Yuuji showed up bright and early with the two idiots that were always with him these days. Sukuna rather liked the Fushiguro kid but the woman that was always with him still got on his last damn nerve. Her and Yuuji together were a threat to decency laws and his fucking eardrums.
"Morning! Where is my precious baby girl," Yuuji cooed stepping in as if he still lived there as Fushiguro gave him a quick nod and Kugisaki walked in without even a hello.
"She's not your baby," Sukuna said, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.
"Well, she isn't your baby either, so."
Before Sukuna could literally murder his brother, you came out with Bug on your hip.
"Uji!!" Your daughter loved Yuuji and you put her down so she could run over and greet her favorite uncle.
"Thank you so much for watching her," you said grabbing your purse off the counter. "Are these your friends from school?"
The two freeloaders introduced themselves while Yuuji started flying your daughter around like he was a plane. At least your daughter would be tired by the time you two got back.
"Let's get going, we got to get there by nine," Sukuna said, putting his hand on the small of your back and directing you towards the door. There were several loud calls of good-bye and good lucks as you two shut the door and made your way to the car.
When you get to the apartment, the super is waiting at the front door of the building. Sukuna sees him shoot you a smarmy grin that abruptly drops off when he takes Sukuna in.
"Good morning miss, I wasn't aware you were bringing your...."
"Partner," Sukuna states firmly and holds out his hand. "Pleasure," he says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. You only look on in amusement as the fucker shakes his hand and then turns his eyes back on you, much more subdued than he'd been at first.
"Right, so the apartment is on the fourth floor. A walk-up but good way to stay in shape..."
He drones on as you and Sukuna follow behind.
"You cannot carry a stroller up four flights of stairs," he says in a tone that the super can definitely hear. "Bug also can't walk up four flights of stairs, especially after a whole day of daycare. Besides these stairs look like they might crumble and drop you to the fucking basement at any second." You smack his arm and the super looks pissed off until Sukuna stomps on a particularly wobbly stair for emphasis and he looks a little nervous. No way he was letting Bug walk up this deathtrap.
He keeps a running commentary of everything he sees, none of it good on the way to the apartment. The cracks in the ceiling, the chipped the paint, the flickering light on the third floor stairwell that makes him feel like they stepped into an 80's slasher flick. On and on he goes and he doesn't stop once they're in the shithole apartment itself.
A one bedroom, not nearly enough space for two, definitely not three which makes him even more irritated at the fact he clearly hadn't factored in at all to the choice in apartment.
He's in the middle of guessing outloud if the shower head would fall on top of you in the first week or the second when you snap.
"I know it's a piece of shit, Sukuna. I'm not an idiot, I'm desperate." You are more irritated than he's ever seen and the fucking creep of a super shoots him a smirk before Sukuna turns the full force of his glare on him. The man mumbles out something about giving them time to take in the space and leaves them alone, the door closing firmly in his haste.
"I don't think you're an idiot," Sukuna says, more calm than he feels because he definitely feels a type of way about all of this. "I just don't think this place is right for you or Bug. Do you expect me to apologize for caring?"
"Is that what this is? You come here to help me and all you've done is shit on the apartment and scare that poor man half to death."
"That poor man was fucking makes eyes at you until he saw me behind you."
"I know, but he got the point when you squeezed his hand so tight I think one of his knuckles popped!"
Sukuna snorted at that and even you seemed a little amused. You sighed and leaned against the wall behind you.
"I can't live with you forever Sukuna, we need a home."
Sukuna wanted to scream, to shake you and say that he was your home. Home for both of you but he knew you weren't ready to hear it and that if he misstepped you might end up living somewhere that seemed a strong breeze away from collapse.
"It's not forever," he finally said and this was true. You would need a new place soon, just not this place. "When I say I don't mind, I mean that I like having the two of you with me." You seemed a little surprised by this admission and Sukuna weighs his next words carefully.
"You're my friend and I care about you even if I have an unconventional way of showing you." You scoff and Sukuna presses on, he can see you softening. "Just wait a little longer. This place isn't good enough for the two of you but another place might be. I'd rather you stay with me longer and find the right place instead of rushing and choosing somewhere shitty because you think you're putting me out or something."
"What guy wants some mom and her kid crashing with him for months on end," you ask and you seem almost genuinely curious.
"You're not some mom, you're you and I happen to really like that kid." You smile and Sukuna knows he's got you. "I mean as we speak she's probably putting Yuuji and his loser friends through the ringer and that's reason enough to keep her around."
"You think anything will be broken by the time we get home," you ask and he feels the clump of blood and flesh that makes up his heart squeeze just a little tighter. Home.
"Oh, definitely but that's why we're not paying them for their services." You laugh and Sukuna walks a little closer to you. You watch him, a little confused but he thinks he sees some anticipation too as he closes in on your space and puts a hand on your cheek. He leans in and he knows he's not making it up that your eyelids flutter as he gets closer.
It's tempting but when Sukuna kisses you for the first time, it's not going to be in a place like this while some scumbag is probably listening through the door.
"Let's go home," he says and he presses a gentle kiss against your cheek. You'd done the same to him many times by now and he can see the appeal when he hears your sharp intake of breath and finds himself surrounded by the smell of your shampoo.
While your quest to find an apartment was unsuccessful, Sukuna thinks that important progress was made today. It fills him with a sense of contentment that manages to sustain him even as the two of you come home to an apartment overflowing with chaos and a spiderweb of cracks across his tv.
When he goes to kick Yuuji's ass, Bug makes sure to lend her support to her poor uncle by clinging to Sukuna's leg and laughing while the two men roll around on the floor to your amusement.
Like he would ever let you leave this.
also people have been suggesting that I make a masterlist or create some sort of tags and while I know what these are(kind of), I'm also not sure the specifics so any advice on how to make this all easier to find would be appreciated! I've been creeping on tumblr for literally over a decade but never written like this before.
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selarina · 5 months
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tw angst, breakup
gojo satoru who’s just so used to kindness and patience from you because from the moment you met him, you knew you were soft for him. practically invisible mush. but things have changed now, he broke up with you. and he’s seeing you without the blue and white hues of kindness for the very first time.
it’s almost noble that he broke up with you. one could see it that way, but you see it as selfish.
you always knew his family and jujutsu society wanted him to marry someone with influence and power. marriage was a matter of politics after all.
but you didn’t really care. you knew what you were getting into after all. you’re not an impulsive person, you think deeply and rationally about these things. you didn’t jump face first into love, you slowly sunk yourself down further and further until you reached the riverbed.
so when he mentioned that his family was talking about marriage with Aya Tsukino, the infamous crystalline sorcerer — you were barely phased.
it admittedly hurt a little. you did always imagine a more traditional route with love — with altars, rings, vows, cakes and champagne. i mean, who doesn’t? but you saw reality for what it was and told him it would be fine.
that you would deal with it when it comes, that you would be okay being his dirty little secret if it was okay with ms. aya
but he’s a week away from the wedding — the biggest of the millennia so to speak, and he should be out there attending a celebratory party in his name, but he’s out here standing in your dimly lit bedroom breaking up with you.
you don’t react when he breaks up with you, that wasn’t when you started withholding your kindness from him. no, that night you gave him a measured response — i understand. no, you’re right. yeah, we can try to be friends. i understand. take care. and he surprised that you remained as calm as you always do, but he supposes he shouldn’t have doubted you.
but when he shows up on the day before his wedding — his excuse being he really wanted his jacket back — he sees you laced with anger for the very first time.
he can tell he’s interrupting but he doesn’t really care, he’s not the kind to but he’s especially not the kind to care when he’s practically signing away his love life tomorrow day. so he barges in regardless, and you let him.
he sees the opened bottle of wine — half-empty, a glass of red wine — half-empty again. a romcom of some sort up on TV, throes and throes of pillows and blankets on your couch. there’s a sadness that fills his already bleating heart up, but he doesn’t break.
he maintains the facade — he wants his jacket back, and he definitely isn’t here to see you.
you come out of your room — your expression neutral still as you say, “i can’t find it.”
and he believes it, but if you can’t find it, he needs to leave now and he doesn’t want to. so he insists that he needs it, because he “can’t sleep without it.”
and you frown, “you’ve been sleeping fine for a week.”
“i haven’t,” he says, plainly. you notice the dull blue from behind his black glasses and you think maybe he isn’t lying, so you merely nod as you go back into your room to scramble through your wardrobe.
it takes you about 20 minutes but you show up, and he notices the lack of a hoodie in your hand.
“couldn’t find it?” he asks.
“nope,” you respond. “are you sure it’s not with you?”
“i’m sure,” he says. “can you look agai—”
“nope,” you say. your voice comes out stern and he notices the reclusiveness in your posture. hands folded, and eyes almost a glare. “i think you need to leave. i'll send it with takashi if i find it.” takashi, your driver.
“but i need—”
“for gods sake — gojo. you’re a grown man. take a fucking pill or something.”
there’s no mistaking the anger in your voice now. no, it’s not just slight agitation, it’s anger. it's anger, and it's making you see things in shades of orange.
"what—" he says lowly, as he looks no worse than a kicked puppy. he reaches for his glasses, taking them off as you see his eyes for the first time in 2 weeks. they looks sad, but then again, they always had a certain sadness to them.
his eyes change now, ever so slightly, there's a certain anger brimming through the blue as he stares back at you now, "all i asked for is my jacket."
"well, if gojo satoru wants his jacket. i guess i should put my life on hold, and scramble across the earth to look for it, right?" you roll your eyes with a scoff. and he's taken aback. you've never been petty. you've never been this detached. not when it comes to him.
"not like i'm interrupting much," he speaks up and he knows that he's going to regret what he's about to say before the words even leave his mouth. "you're having a sob fest, if anything — me showing up here is helping."
"are you fu—" and then you laugh, but there's no mirth in your laughter. "how dare you even talk to me like that? you'r— you fucking break up with me. with your bullshit excuses. and then you have the fucking audacity to talk to me like this?"
"bullshit excuses? i broke up with you. for you," he yells back. "you would've been miserable, baby."
"i would've managed," your response is immediate.
"you were upset when aya kept kissing my cheek."
"i never said that."
"you didn't have to," he groans. "it's my- it was job to see that. and that's why i know you would've been miserable."
"i've told you this time and time again. i don't mind being miserable as long as i got to be with you. what's so hard to understand about that?"
"what kin- why? why even—"
"because i love you."
"what kind of love makes you debase yourself in such a way. it's fucking pathetic," he replies, and there's some contempt in his voice.
you see how he views you now more clearer — like you're some sad thing. like you're the world's greatest loser and you should dig yourself into a hole until you've moved on from him.
you're only used to love from him, and that made your decision to stay with him feel revolutionary — like you could've lived the worst life socially if it meant you could stay in love but now — now you're not sure about any of this.
"you would've been miserable. so i made the decision for us. you'll thank me one day," he says.
"maybe," you say with a sigh. you're tired and frankly all you want is for him to leave so you can chug the rest of that wine and pass out. "maybe, but it was our relationship. and you made this decision all by yourself. so don't ever blame me for our end."
part 2
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