#it depends on what your needs are and what you’re looking for

[gojoest]

i’d die a thousand times for you ┊ hurt/comfort, suggestive, MDNI, gn! reader, established relationship, pet names (pretty, love), lovely banter, v brief somno mention if you squint, this blurb was provoked by ch261 (no spoilers though), not proofread we die like this, wc: 1.1k

you watched satoru carefully.

searing every feature on his precious face deep into your consciousness while he was soundly sleeping next to you — the way his nostrils flared with each breath he took and the way his eyelids slightly fluttered in slumber, cheek squished against the pillow leaving his mouth agape and drooling from the corner of it.

you thought you’d never get to see him like this ever again, not after what you witnessed with your own eyes in shinjuku.

—you shut your eyes close, tightly. shaking your head, desperately trying to dispel that sight from your memories like your life depended on it. it always reached you in your nightmares but you’d never let it catch you when awake. not when he was here.

when he came back to you, for the first time in your life, you considered it possible — that there might really be god, because his return was no miracle. it was god having mercy on you for he would never give one more than they could handle.

you trailed your fingers along his forehead — tenderly brushing back his hair that felt fluffier than ever between your fingers — before sliding them down his temple to his cheek and then to his cutely parted lips that planted a soft kiss on your fingertip.

“morning, pretty”, satoru spoke with a sleepy timbre, eyes remaining close.

“morning, handsome”, you greeted him back. “did i wake you up?”

“no, been awake for a while”, he smiled, “can’t miss my favorite part of the morning — having you be the creep and stare at me while you think i’m asleep. makes my chest swell with joy”, he slowly opened his eyes and looked at you, his smile growing bigger.

“can’t have you be the creep all the time, that’d be unfair”, you teased, shifting into a sitting position with your back against the headboard of the bed.

he rolled closer and laid his head on your lap, taking your hand into his and pecking it sweetly then putting it on his chest, right on top of his heart, while keeping his over yours. “so we’re basically switching roles?”

“that’s right”, you gave a nod. “we are”

“then there’s a lot more you need to do, i’m afraid”

“walk me through it then, please”

“alright”, he cleared his throat. “first”, he shifted your hand from his chest to the top of his head, “you need to pat me and slowly run your fingers through my hair”, his hand carefully guiding yours. “then you need to lean down a little bit and kiss the tip of my nose”

after you did as he instructed, it took him a hot minute to wipe the silly grin off his face but eventually he continued, “and now you have to caress my cheek and think very hard about how you might just die from happiness because i look ridiculously cute and you love me so very much. after you’re done thinking, you have to whisper it into my ear. you have to be very thorough with your confession, by the way — the required word count is minimum 1k”

“now you’re just making fun of me”, you softly flicked his forehead with your free hand, “no way you’re doing this to me every morning”

“i do even more than this but i don’t want to freak you out, so i’m just easing you into the basic stuff”

“more than this?”

“well of course”

“what is it?”

“can’t tell”

“come on”, you insisted.

“try to guess”, he lifted an eyebrow with a challenging look.

“okay. give me a hint and i will”

“something a freak would do”

“oh……”, a gasp left your lips at the realization, “don’t tell me you…”, gasping again you covered your mouth with your hand.

“oh, yeah”, he shook his head affirmatively.

no words were needed, a quick glance at his idiotic grin was enough to provide you with the answer. it was written all over his face — satoru would often jerk off to you while you were sleeping.

“by the way — if you’re up to fulfilling this part of the creep role, i am definitely watching. heheh”

you laughed, “that’d be off-script though — you’re supposed to be asleep while i do that or it beats the purpose”

“i can pretend to be sleeping, don’t you worry”, he adeptly assured you.

“it wouldn’t be very creep of me if you’re not in deep slumber, so — no”

his lips curved down into a pout. “fine”, he mumbled. “at least do the last part — tell me you love me”

leaning down slowly, your lips charged towards his for a short peck before you whispered into his mouth, “i love you, stinky”

“i love you too, pretty”, he reached for the back of your neck and pulled you in for another kiss. “now — say it again, but louder”

and you did. you said it again and again and again, in between every kiss, until your eyes welled up and it got harder to speak while holding back the tears.

you leaned back and covered your face with both of your hands. “i’m sorry”, you muffled.

“hey, love”, he sat up and pulled you into his arms. “shhh, come here”

he knew exactly what crossed your mind right now for the same thought occupied his as well — just as much as he was grateful to be here, to be as lucky to have this morning banter with you — so were you. in fact, he was more than lucky, perhaps even god’s favorite child, to make it back to you. thinking about the possibility of leaving you behind, alone in this bed, in this house, in this life — made his heart ache, because he was on thin ice back in shinjuku. the pain and loneliness he would’ve caused you would be a one-way ticket for him to hell — and he wasn’t having it. before you, he didn’t really care whether he’d go to hell or heaven. but now, heaven is a must. because you were an angel, and that was the only place he could meet you again if the worst were to ever happen.

“i am here”, he whispered. “i am here”, his repeated a few times until his voice started cracking and he just held you in silence.

“you better”, you pulled away from his embrace and straddled yourself on his lap. cupping his cheeks in your hands, you nuzzled your nose against his and breathed in his scent. “if you die again, i swear i will kill you”

“but if you’ll hold me like this every day, i don’t mind dying a thousand times”

“don’t ever joke about this, you idiot”

“but i am not joking. i mean it — i’d pay any price as long as i get to be with you like this”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader

[svtswhorehouse]

OT 13 : edging vs overstimulation

Seungcheol : overstimulation. honestly, i feel as if he’s the type of person to use it as a punishment. ya’ll would probably go through like a hundred different positions and he’ll make you cum with every single one before he can switch to the next. would hit you with that faux sympathy and imitate a pouty face when he slows down to check on you. when you say you’re okay, he’ll slam back into you again. won’t stop until you use your safe word, but will take a break if you really need it. needs to see your mascara running, desperate doe eyes, and fucked out expression the entire time.

Jeonghan : edging. oh baby, good luck with this one. A MENACE. would probably do it for hours until you’re crying and a babbling mess. he lowkey gets off on how pathetic and dumb you get for him. likes being begged, so he might gaslight you into thinking you don’t want it as much as you say you do which will make you even more desperate. the type to use anything from his tongue, to his dick, to toys — you’ve grown to hate vibrators overtime. also another one who would fake being sympathetic and imitate your sad face. he would probably play dumb like “what baby? why are you crying?” he’s a meanie overall, and will do it just for fun but he’ll make you feel good so don’t you worry your pretty little head.

Joshua : edging. he’s honestly such a sweet and caring person, but he’s also friends with jeonghan and apart of the 95’ line so what do you expect. some days he would choose to be nice, but other days he would decide to be a tease. honestly, not that bad though. he would only do it for a little while before deciding you’ve had enough. lowkey likes it when you cry. he has the biggest hands in seventeen so he utilizes them a lot, especially when it comes to you. enjoys the way you clench around them whenever he stops. he definitely takes time to examine your face which a teasing smile and ask you “what’s wrong,” even though he knows he’s being an ass.

Jun : edging. tbh, does it just to laugh and be a little shit. will be fingering you, pull away really quickly and look back up at you with a smile on his face. will probably be like “ha, you thought,” or “gotcha.” let’s out the cutest giggle whenever he does it that sometimes it’s difficult for you to be mad at him. does it a few times before you smack him on his shoulder and threaten him with no pussy for a week. will definitely let you cum after that.

Hoshi : overstimulation. HOSHI IS A MUNCH AND NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE. would probably choose to live between your thighs if you let him tbh. def eats pussy like he’s a starved man and it’s his last meal he’ll ever have. probably enjoys it more than you do. you can push him away all you want, but he’ll come right back (will literally beg you if that’s what it takes, he loves pussy). main dancer and his stamina is insane, so he doesn’t mean to overstimulate you really, he can just go for hours. you would definitely have to take breaks in between rounds with this one.

Wonwoo : edging. finds it amusing. might tie you up, just to keep you still whenever he decides to go to town on your pussy. he’ll shoot you a little smirk from time to time which will end up pissing you off because he def knows he’s being an asshole. prefers to edge you with his cock, he likes the way your pussy flutters around it whenever he stops. also, his favorite time to do it is whenever he’s gaming. he’ll have you sit on his cock and have you do all the work while he plays a video game. it’s only when your whines start getting louder and movements start to get fast when he’ll place a firm hand on your hip and hold you in place. loves when you look at him all teary eyed, but still promises he’ll make you feel good after. no one said how long his game was gonna last though so good luck.

Woozi : wild card. depends on what HE feels like. you have no say. you just shut your mouth and look pretty for him. if he’s stressed he’ll edge you, but if he needs a mental break or something, he’ll overstimulate you. will definitely happen in his studio the most, just cause that’s where most of his stress leads back to — writing and producing. enjoys cockwarming while he works, but if you’re being stubborn and moving too much, he’ll decide to fuck and overstimulate you. will be like “i thought this is what you wanted baby? couldn’t stay still cause you wanted my cock so bad hm?”

Dokyeom : overstimulation. he’s just happy to please overall. also another one that doesn’t mean to overstimulate you. he just wants to make you feel good and when you try and push him away, he just might look at you with puppy dog eyes. also loves when you sit on his face, he feels like he can be as messy as he wants. asks why you’re crying, but not in a mocking type of way, he just genuinely doesn’t know that it feels too good that it’s getting hard to hold yourself up. it’s a good thing he’s strong.

Mingyu : overstimulation. i feel like he has an oral fixation and cures it by eating you out tbh. this big and beefy man specifically loves it when you sit on his face. if you hover over him for a second too long, he’s pulling you down and holding you in place. obviously he’s ridiculously strong so when you try and pull away, he doesn’t let you. will gaslight you into thinking you can take one more, even if it’s the hundredth time and you’ll agree just because it feels too good to say no. will cage you in with his arms and fucks you so good you wouldn’t be able to utter an audible sentence. likes when yours eyes get all dazed and it looks as if there’s not a thought in your head. he’ll be on a mission to make you squirt.

Minghao : edging. says that you need to practice patience ???? might use it as a learning experience for you ???? might make you want to kill him after ???? lmao. i feel as if he’s more likely to deny your orgasm completely than to edge you. like he would edge for a bit, but overall wouldn’t let you cum. he says it’s to learn to be more patient, but really he just enjoys how desperate and whiny you get after. will definitely fuck you nice and good when y’all get in bed for the night. might tease you by edging you once, but when tears start to brim your eyes, he’ll let up. just, be a good girl for him and don’t piss him off.

Seungkwan : edging. honestly, he’s sweet with it. will check in on you often and make sure you’re doing okay. seungkwan’s favorite way of edging you is by literally having you grind on his thigh. he enjoys how easy it is to get you off and likes to see his skin coated with your slick. also, he def knows his quads are strong af so why would you not wanna ride his thigh? will mutter words of encouragement and praise, even when he stops your movements. knows that him shaking his leg really helps so he’ll stop moving altogether when he feels like you’re getting close. a sucker for your tears so he might give in if you play your cards right.

Vernon : honestly, whatever you want. goes with the flow and the mood. vernon is the type of guy who might let you take the lead. if you wanted to dom for the night then okay. if you wanted to fuck in a bathroom then okay. if you wanted to be edged or overstimulated then he will help you. won’t do it as a punishment, but it’s also not something that he thinks of. you might have to bring it up or give him hints before he can act on it. you might also have to control it so like when you think you’re gonna cum you might have to push him away, or if you want to be overstimulated, just take the lead and hold him close.

Dino : overstimulation. another main dancer right here. he has a lot of energy in him. you would want it as much as he’s happy to give it though. y’all are definitely the type of couple to fuck like two bitches in heat. he would be on a mission to either see how many surfaces y’all could fuck on or how many rounds he’s capable of going which will therefore lead to you getting overstimulated. honestly, doesn’t mean to overstimulate you he just gets a little excited. will apologize after and be so soft with you though so it’s okay.

#seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #svt imagines #jeonghan x reader #seungkwan x reader #seungcheol x reader #joshua x reader #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #jun x reader #junhui x reader #jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #wonwoo x reader #seokmin x reader #dokyeom x reader #minghao x reader #mingyu x reader #vernon x reader #dino x reader #chan x reader #svtswhorehouse #mingyu smut #scoups x reader

[justalittletotheleft]

“princess, why doesn’t daddy check your pull-up before you sit on the couch. we wouldn’t want anymore leaks on the furniture, right super soaker?”

your cheeks go pink as you stomp your legs.

it’s not fair! daddy held off changing you this morning, leaving you in a wet nighttime diaper. oblivious to your bladders needs, you ended up flooding your diaper past capacity and soaking the armchair you were sitting on. you were so busy watching cartoons, you didn’t even notice until daddy came to get you.

needless to say, your bottom is still sore from this morning and you glare at the cushion still airing out across the room.

“i’m dry daddy! i’m a big girl, i know when i potty!”

you scoff as daddy tries to hold back a laugh.

“awe, is that right munchkin? you’re definitely dry, huh? not even a little wet?”

daddy crosses his arms, still trying to hold back laughter.

you reach down to your pull-up to exaggerate how sure you are.

“yeah! i’m totally dry-“

you feel the padding squelch against your crotch.

what the fuck?? you don’t even remember going!!!

the padding is hot against your palm, you literally had to have just gone while daddy was talking! how did you not notice?

“something the matter princess? is your pamper not as dry as you thought?”

daddy smirks as you look up at him, shock written all over your beet red face. you can’t even respond to him.

“awe, is someone loosing their potty training? seems like those hypnosis tracks really are working.”

your heart beat gets faster.

“what hypnosis??”

you had only brought up your hypnosis kink once to him, he seemed to brush it off at the time so you never spoke about it after that.

“well, a little birdy told me all about how you wanted to become a fully obedient diaper dependent baby girl! so, as your daddy, i learned a bit about hypnosis and slipped just a few little triggers in while you were in dreamland.”

you stare at him, dumbfounded. how didn’t you notice you were being hypnotized?

“let’s try another one out hm? why don’t you make daddy a present in your diaper?

you feel your stomach bubble, as you feel your sphincter completely relax.

all you can do is feel the back of your pull-up in horror as the mess slides out of you.

you try your hardest to clench down, anything to try an stop it, but nothing happens. you truly feel like a potty training failure as the mess fills the seat of your pull-up.

“oh no! did the little baby make a boom boom in her pull-up? how naughty! you’re definitely not ready for potty training.”

you whine, feeling the pull-up hang low between your legs as your mess begins to cool.

“let’s try out one more! icky diaper-butts aren’t allowed on furniture, so go on the floor like a good baby. you heard me princess, sit.”

you feel your legs collapse beneath you, slamming your butt against the cold hard floor, spreading your poopy throughout your whole pull-up.

you try getting up, moving in anyway so you don’t have to be in your mess but nothing happens. your legs feel like lead, all you end up doing is squirming in your mess.

you feel yourself start to cry. you’re sitting on the floor, pull-up full front to back, and have absolutely no control over your own potty training.

“oh, it’s okay potty pants! daddy will change you before bed! for now, just relax and watch your cartoons! be careful not to wet or make any more presents!”

you whimper, feeling your muscles completely relax. all you can do is cry as you fill your pull-up past capacity.

as is leaks onto the floor, you have a feeling you won’t be seeing pull-ups, god forbid bug girl underwear for quite a while.

[junrenjun]

love and lacrosse jackets

pe teacher!vernon x chemistry teacher!reader (fem)

genre: fluff

wc: 3k

warnings: reader is referred to as ms. (and other fem pronouns), reader wears vernon's clothes

a/n: this is not an understand series update and i apologize for that. however, here's a vernon teacher au with a little side of lacrosse and dad!seungcheol

You were suddenly thrown out of your thoughts by one of your students sighing and turning from her worksheet. “Ms. y/n, can I ask a question?” 

You knew this student, Maya, was likely trying to get out of doing her assignment. She was too smart for her own good. “Depends. Is it about the worksheet?” 

She paused for a second, turning her head slightly away in order to avoid your gaze. “...no.”

You continued. “Do you need to go to the bathroom or the nurse?”

Maya sighed and mumbled, “no.”

You turned back to your computer while giving your final response. “Then I think you know the answer. I would be happy to talk to you once you’ve balanced all those equations.” 

You should’ve known she wasn’t giving up that easily. If anything, she probably gave up halfway through the worksheet because she knew the answers and was just looking for something to entertain herself. “Mr. Chwe lets us ask him questions all the time.”

You snorted. “Mr. Chwe is a PE teacher Maya. You don’t have worksheets to do in his classes. Unfortunately, you do in chemistry. So please finish this or at least study for your quiz next week.” 

Maya was apparently taken aback by this. She was quick to defend herself, saying, “how do you know we don’t do worksheets in PE?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Maybe you should've been a college professor instead of a high school teacher. “I’m the girls lacrosse coach and he’s the boys coach. We spend a lot of time together and I’ve never once seen him make a worksheet.” 

An evil grin spread across Maya’s face. You internally groaned at this. That expression means she’s up to absolutely no good. She turned and tapped on her partner’s arm. Great, now she’s distracting other students too. “Henry, wouldn’t Ms. y/n and Mr. Chwe make a cute couple?” He grinned and started going off on a tangent about how funny it would be if the two lacrosse coaches were dating. 

This conversation really took a turn for the worse, didn’t it? There’s nothing you could do but groan, out loud this time, and put your head in your hands. Your neighboring teacher, Mr. Seokmin, really has impeccable timing though. He stuck his head through your door and grabbed your attention a few moments later. “Hey Ms. y/n, do you have a student that can run an errand for me real quick?”

Now was your chance. “Maya, since you seem to have no interest in balancing any more equations, why don’t you go help Mr. Seokmin?”

Before she could protest, the physics teacher grinned brightly at her before exclaiming, “perfect! Come on Maya, I need someone to help me carry these projects to the library.” Once she was finally out of the room, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

It didn’t last long though because your other students suddenly started giggling and murmuring amongst each other. Henry, who was still turned toward you, decided he needed to continue Maya’s antics in her absence. “You did say you and Mr. Chwe were close.” More giggles were heard. 

You’re not sure what you did to deserve this treatment from your 3rd hour honors class of all people, but clearly it was something. “Alright if you all don’t go back to your work I’m not offering any extra credit on this next quiz.” The rest of the hour passed in silence. 

“What’s with the long face?” Vernon thought the joking would cheer his best player up, but it just made Henry frown even more. 

After a few moments of silence, he finally answered, “I had a quiz in chemistry today. Don’t think I did too well on it.”

Vernon was quick to ask him which teacher he had. “Your favorite, Ms. y/n,” Henry responded. 

The PE teacher rolled his eyes at the comment but still clapped his hand on the player’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine, kid. She offers extra credit. But she also told me you and Maya were pestering her the other day instead of doing your work, so maybe you should put a little more effort into understanding the material next time.”

Henry grumbled, knowing nothing good would come of an argument. “Yeah, whatever you say Coach.” Then, he dropped his bag on the ground and ran out onto the field to start warming up.

Vernon felt someone approach him from behind. “See dude, even the kids can pick up on you and y/n’s chemistry. Haha, get it? Chemistry? Y/n teaches chemistry.” The head coach could barely restrain himself from flicking Mingyu in the forehead. He was a great assistant coach, but an incredibly annoying friend. 

“Why can’t I just be friends with a coworker and fellow lacrosse coach?” Vernon complained. Mingyu simply watched on as his friend continued. “Just because we’re both single doesn’t mean we should get together. I mean she’s really cool and works really well with the kids. And she’s an insane lacrosse player, an even better coach too. I think she could get the girls to state this year. I just think…” He’s cut off by Mingyu smacking his arm. 

For once, he’s grateful for the assistant coach’s intrusion, because he turns around to find you jogging up to him. Weird, he thought to himself, since you and the girls have a game today. You skid to a stop next to the two, and make eye contact with him. “You don’t happen to have an extra SVHS shirt do you? I think I forgot my coaching shirt at home today and I really don’t want Seungcheol getting on my ass for it.” 

Vernon’s world comes crashing down at that moment. Maybe he does have a teensy little crush on you. Because the thought of you wearing his clothes has him swooning. Mingyu, ever so helpful, snaps him out of the moment by clearing his throat to yell at the boys for messing around. Vernon blinks at you for a second before stammering out, “uh yeah I think so,” and reaching into his bag. He pulls out a gray quarter zip with the words “SVHS” and “Coach Chwe” embroidered on the chest. He debates hiding it from your sight and shoving it back in his bag to save you both the embarrassment, but he knows how strict Seungcheol is as an athletic director. 

He eventually tosses it to you, stuttering out something about good luck while watching you throw it over your head. Once it’s on you say, “I have the same one, so hopefully no one sees the difference. Thanks Chwe.” He can’t even process your words because his brain is simply malfunctioning seeing you in his clothes, especially ones that say his name. He’s no better than his high schoolers. Before he knows it, you’re turning on your heel and jogging back to the main field. 

Someone comes up behind him, filling Mingyu’s absence, since the assistant coach ran off to lead practice drills in the middle of Vernon’s little crisis. He hears the lacrosse captain snickering and then telling him, “damn Coach, you’ve got it bad. You’re redder than a tomato.”

Vernon simply cannot handle it any further. “Oscar, for heaven’s sake, please shut your mouth and go back to practice.” Oscar throws his hands up in mock defense, before grabbing the ball that rolled over to Vernon’s feet and running back onto the field.

You really need to give Vernon his coach’s jacket back. It didn’t help that you weren’t a morning person, and seemed to accidentally leave it at home whenever you left for work each day. It also maybe didn’t help that it smelled just like the boy’s lacrosse coach, who, admittedly, smelled pretty damn good. But, you couldn’t hoard Vernon’s things forever. You were lucky enough that you had gone a week without him mentioning the jacket at all, which you chalked up to him knowing you were busy.

Tomorrow, you told yourself. Tomorrow you would take the jacket back to school and give it to him. You even laid it out with your own jacket, which you were going to wear the next since you had a game anyways. That, however, was a mistake. Because in the morning, groggy from lack of sleep, you accidentally threw on Vernon’s jacket and shoved your own into your work bag. 

How no one told you until 3rd period, you’re not quite sure. Mainly because Seokmin had specifically complimented your outfit when you visited him before your first class. You thought maybe it was because you were wearing a new pair of pants. Clearly it was not and the physics teacher was using it as a means to tease you (and Vernon by proxy). If only you had known.

Maya stepped into your classroom extra peppy that day, which was already a recipe for disaster. The fact that she was the one to catch that you were wearing Mr. Chwe’s zip-up certainly did not help. A gasped “oh my god” stopped you in the middle of your lecture. You pointedly looked at the girl before asking, “Maya, is everything alright?”

The poor girl could barely contain her excitement, practically shaking in her seat. “You’re dating Mr. Chwe! I knew it!”

You were caught so off-guard that it took you a while to respond. “Maya, where did you even get that idea from? And you’re being disruptive, I’m trying to teach about equilibrium.” 

She stood from her seat and pointed at you, before excitedly exclaiming, “your jacket. You’re wearing Mr. Chwe’s jacket!” You looked down and, sure enough, Vernon’s name was plastered across the chest. To put it plainly, you were mortified. In fact, you’re pretty sure you’ve embarrassed yourself even more when you don’t respond for a solid minute. 

Finally, when you’re done wallowing in pity in front of a bunch of 16 year olds, you make your way to your desk and pull out a hall pass. You hand it to Maya swiftly before telling her, “if you’re too invested in this to learn chemistry, go bother Mr. Chwe about it. It’s his planning period.” She gapes up at you before scrambling out of the room.

You turn back to the rest of the class, making sure to pointedly look at Henry. “No other questions about my love life?”

A deadly silence spreads across the room. Henry sinks back in his chair but you watch a hand creep up from the back of the classroom. You sigh and call on the girl. She’s clearly surprised you even allowed her to speak, because the question is whispered to the point you can barely hear it. “Why do you have Mr. Chwe’s jacket?”

The inquiry is enough to throw you off the deep end. “Ok, I’m not teaching the rest of class. I don’t care what you guys do as it’s either A) not disruptive or B) asking me about my personal life.” 

Seungcheol is surprised when there is a knock on the athletic office door in the middle of 3rd period. Students should be in class and if it were a staff member, they would have just let themselves in. He tells whoever it is to come in and is slightly less surprised to see Maya standing in front of him. She doesn’t let him speak first, quickly letting out, “do you know where Mr. Chwe is?”

He raises an eyebrow at the girl. “You got a hall pass kid?” he fires back. Maya waves the piece of paper around in his face. He rolls his eyes. 

She puts her hands on her hips and looks pointedly at him. “Seriously though. Do you know where Mr. Chwe is? It’s supposed to be his planning period or something.”

Seungcheol is still confused why she needs to see Vernon in the middle of 3rd hour and how she managed a hall pass for it. “Why?”

Maya plops down on the chair in front of his desk with a sigh, clearly this conversation was not happening without a little bit of a fight. “Ms. y/n sent me to ask him a question.”

The athletic director can’t help but let out a snort at the girl’s comment. Maya is suddenly interested in his reaction. “Why is that so funny? Do you think they’re dating too?”

Seungcheol is surprised yet again. “Do you think they’re dating?”

Now Maya snorts. “Obviously. Ms. y/n is wearing his lacrosse jacket today.” She laughs when the man’s eyes practically bulge out of his skull. He rustles around his desk, grabbing a notepad and writing another hall pass for the girl.

After scribbling for a second, he passes the note to the girl and tells her, “Mr. Chwe is in his office, room 218.”

The girl grabs the note from his hands and gleefully gets up to skip out the door. She stops midway through and calls out over her shoulder, “thanks Dad!”

“I’m not dating Ms. y/n, Maya. You know that.” Vernon sighs exasperatedly. “Why are you even asking me this?”

He knows he’s in for trouble when she smirks. “She’s wearing your coaching jacket today. Care to explain that?”

Vernon knows he should’ve asked for it back sooner rather than later. But he was secretly hoping that he would be able to see it on you one more time. And the longer you have it, the more likely it’s going to come back smelling like you (not that Vernon cares anyways right?). He doesn’t miss a beat though, explaining to Maya that he lent you his jacket for a game and that you probably mixed it up with your own. She’s not impressed, but she knows it’s an explanation that’s most likely true. This doesn’t stop her from interrogating Vernon further. “Do you want to date Ms. y/n?”

His silence is incriminating. He can tell by Maya’s mile wide grin. Trying to put an end to it, the lacrosse coach stands up from his desk, telling her that he’ll walk her back to whatever class she left from.

One tiny important detail he forgot is that you teach 3rd hour honors chemistry. A class that one of his players, Henry, shares with Maya. And he’s currently standing outside your door, watching as you type away on your computer. Sure enough, “Mr. Chwe” is embroidered across the chest. Vernon thinks he might combust on the spot. His student clearly picks up on this, muttering something about how she’s “seen middle schoolers with more balls.” 

He waits outside your door as Maya enters the room. There’s only a few minutes left of the period, so he figured it would be better for both of you to talk away from prying eyes. As the bell rings, he patiently watches the students trickle out your door. When he’s sure that everyone is gone, he steps into the doorway. What he does not expect is for you to walk straight into his chest, stumbling back with the cutest “oomph” he’s ever heard. 

Vernon is stunned but you look completely mortified. Probably because you just ran into the man whose jacket you’re wearing basically without his consent. His assumption is correct because you start mumbling out apologies. “I’m so sorry I thought this was my jacket when I grabbed it this morning. I didn’t mean to wear it today, I made such a mess of this. I shouldn’t have even asked for it in the first place. I was just about to change, give me a second I…”

The lacrosse coach cuts you off in the middle of your little rant. “Do you want to go out with me after your game on Friday?” 

You blink at him, not even processing the words he just said. When you finally do, your cheeks flush and you glance down at your watch. “Do you think you can ask me that in like 4 hours, Chwe?”

Vernon has no idea what you mean by that. He gawks a little bit. Do you need time to think about it? Are you not interested? Do you already have a boyfriend? Shit, he should’ve thought this through.

You break him out of his little trance with a small chuckle. “We’re on the clock Vernon. And you have a class in three minutes.” 

He glances at his watch. His freshman PE class is probably waiting for him. He mumbles something about meeting him on the main field before practice. Then he’s out the door. You’re left there, stunned, still in his jacket. You don’t bother to take it off the rest of the day.

A few hours later, Mingyu and Seokmin are watching you both converse from afar. Vernon’s cheeks are the reddest they’ve ever been. You’re fidgeting nervously but also smiling. It seems to be going well. Seokmin turns to the assistant coach before saying, “took them long enough.”

They hear someone approaching and turn to see Seungcheol. “You both owe me $20.” 

Both the teachers roll their eyes at him but reach for their wallets. Maya pops up from their other side, walking up to her father. “I should be getting at least half of that. I did all the work.” 

Seungcheol grunts, pondering her proposition. He turns to her. “What about this? You can either get $20 now or $200 if y/n is Mrs. Chwe before you graduate college?”

Maya’s eyes brighten and that sinister smile spreads across her cheeks once again. “Deal.” (She’s $200 richer at her college graduation).

#vernon x reader #vernon chwe x reader #svt #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen x reader #vernon chwe #hansol x reader #hansol chwe x reader #vernon chwe imagine #lu writes #choi seungcheol #lee seokmin #kim mingyu #teacher au #lacrosse au #svt teacher au

[roachspeaks]

King!Sukuna x Princess!Gojo!Reader

Part 1 to a possible series? If it’s something the people would like to see. Ideas and feedback are very appreciated. MDNI

Warnings: smut, Sukuna doing another woman, brother Gojo, young child Choso(it will come together later trust me), mentions of Sukuna cumming in another woman(nameless faceless concubine), Sukuna being a little bit of a dick, fluffy material?, uraume being possibly ooc?, Sukuna being slightly sexist(i think), cursing,(let me know if i missed anything)

MDNI

Arranged.

You’d always hated the word. Your soon to be marriage wasn't arranged. It was just seen as a fact. Something you’d endure for the sake of your kingdom, the survival of your family and people. You had no choice in the matter and you hated it. One of the downsides of being a princess in a falling kingdom. An enemy kingdom, ruled over by the infamous king, Sukuna. Threatened siege if there wasn’t an agreement. A compromise. He wanted heirs, and trade from your family. But you suppose that was just a perk of being a Gojo. Always highly desired, and yet making enemies everywhere. Your brother, Satoru, wanted to fight it. But that was what he always wanted to do. Fight against the inevitable. Your family saw it easier to just hand you over. That way there would be no war, and they’d gain an ally. As well as more heirs to both the Gojo line, and partially the Sukuna one as well. The elders in your family viewing the arrangement as beneficial on all accounts, send you off as soon as they can. Satoru, your precious baby brother, insists on accompanying you to make sure you’re safe on your journey. You want to refuse his offer, you want to keep him safe within the walls of your childhood home, but he’s stubborn. 

So now, you sit in a puffy white dress your parents, the king and queen, had practically forced you into. Claiming it would make you look like more of a presentable bride. You ride on your horse, a cloudy white stallion contrasting Satoru’s jet black mare. You’d always had a habit of doing the opposite of one another. Opposite temperaments, opposite passions, opposite opinions. Most notably opposite opinions. He adores his freedom. Sure he has his responsibilities as crown prince, but he has gotten extremely talented at avoiding those things. You however, do not have that luxury. You're the eldest, the most responsible, dependable, the one your family knows they can put pressure on. You love your family, more than the silly freedoms and indulgences that Satoru chases. 

“You look ridiculous.” He smiles teasingly, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. There’s a sadness in his piercing blues. You can’t even imagine Satoru admitting to the fact that he’s gonna miss you, but you know. He hopes you know.

“What? You don’t like my bridal attire?” You chide back. Raising your nose at him in a sort of mock offense. 

“You look like a cream puff.” He bursts out into laughter, and you can’t help but giggle(more modestly than his loud, obnoxious hysterics). You were gonna miss his laugh. 

“Oh please. You couldn’t pull this off.” You roll your eyes jokingly. He snorts, but then his face falls a fraction. He’s not smiling, his mouth in a tight, tense line. His eyes drift to where he holds his leather reins. The edges digging into the pale flesh of his hands. 

“If you ever need me…” He starts, glancing between his hands and you. 

“I’ll write you, I promise.” You smile that kind signature that he’d grown to both love and hate. He hated that your kindness made you a target for your families agenda. He recognized a long time ago that the only reason either of you existed was for the benefit of the Gojo line, and he refused to fall in line with what they wanted. He just wished you’d fight with him…

“If that Sukuna bastard lays a hand on you,” If he got any angrier at the thought, there’d be steam leaking out from his ears. “I’ll kill him.” He finishes confidently. As if there was no way he could lose. And you believe in him. In the dedication and loyalty carved into his features. 

“You think you’d win in a fight against the cursed king?” She chuckles slightly. 

“Oh yeah, I’d win.” He grins proudly. So incredibly sure of himself. But that was just Satoru, and you loved him for it. 

The rest of the ride is quiet, uneventful. Then you notice as the environment around you starts to change. As you loom closer to Sukuna’s kingdom, the sounds of birds and life fade into silence, and dark clouds roll into the sky seemingly out of nowhere. Both you and Satoru pull on your hooded cloaks as it starts raining heavily. Your loyal steeds not appreciative of the sudden change in scenery, but they press on. It doesn’t take long until you’re at the gates. The walls are tall, made of dark coloured stone. Sharp wooden spikes lining the top of the wall where guards notably patrol. It’s an intimidating sight. 

You are quickly recognized by the guards, just by the look of you and Satoru it’s clear what family you belong to. The large, heavy looking gate is opened, and you both ride slowly into the large open space. Houses stretching far, shops can be seen down one road, while stables can be seen lining another. But the thing that catches your attention is the castle. It’s tall and every part is so…intimidating. Is that truly where you’d be living? This place seems so..devoid of life. Of color and sunlight and joy…

You dismount your horse, thankful that though you may look like a cream puff, your dress reaches just high enough that it doesn't drag on the muddy ground. There is a short, fat, angry looking man that shouts at a small boy to fetch your things from your horses. The boy in question couldn't be older than 12. With a dark brunette head of longer hair, tied up in spiky pigtails, and notable redness under his eyes. Like he’d been recently and frequently crying. As well as a scarred line running from his cheek, across the bridge of his nose, to his other cheek. He scrambles to do as the man instructs. But the bags are heavy, so you go to help him. 

“Hey, I’ve got these two. Okay?” You speak softly and sweetly. Helping him with the heavier bags. “What’s your name hun?” You smile.

The boy stares awe struck at you for a couple seconds. His mouth hung open as he stares. Like he was staring at an angel. 

“Choso…I’m Choso, Kamo.” He fumbles over his words. Clearly anxious.

“Well Choso, would you mind helping me bring my things inside.” You Nod to the castle. He seems to squirm at the thought. 

“That’s king Sukuna’s domain, I don’t want to get into trouble..” He speaks quietly.

“I won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise.” You raise an eyebrow to him, and he cracks a little smile. Practically beaming as he helps you with your things. 

You turn to Satoru, drawing him into a tight hug. This could be the last time you ever see your baby brother, and damn if you’d let him get away without one hug.

“Stay out of trouble.” You whisper. “And tell Suguru and Shoko they have my thanks for keeping you safe.” You give him a light squeeze. He returns it silently. 

Then, with a guilt ridden look, he rides off. And you’re left to carry your things into the throne room of the castle. Little Choso at your side. Well really behind you, glancing around nervously at every movement or flicker of candlelight. 

You find the throne room easily, it’s in the center of the castle. But when you arrive at the entrance, the big dark doors. There’s a girl, an advisor from her attire. Long white and black robes, she seemingly guards the entrance. Looking slightly irritated, but mostly just stoic. Her hair is white, with unique red splotches. Cut short, with bangs just almost covering her eyes. When she catches sight of you, she stands up a little straighter(if that was even possible). 

“You’re the Gojo princess, correct?” She speaks respectfully, no malice or ill intention in her words. 

“I am, I was hoping to see lord Sukuna, before anything else.” You speak slowly, and she nods in understanding. 

“He is…occupied. But I'm sure he won't mind your interruption. Too much…” She murmurs the last bit. “ Though I will warn you, the…business he is attending to is not for the eyes of a young boy.” She warns, waiting for your reaction. 

Slightly puzzled, you respond. “Well…would you take Choso here, to where I’ll be staying? To deliver my things.” You glance at Choso, who still looks determined to finish his task in the big scary castle.

“I’d be happy too.” She replies, seemingly relieved to get to leave her place at the door. “Come along then.” She holds her arm out for Choso to walk ahead of her. “Good luck…” She sighs quietly.

You push open the throne room doors, using minimal force that doesn’t get you very far. Stepping through, to a rather shocking and…crude, sight. Your future husband, the king of a kingdom, with a…concubine, in his lap. His cock inside of her as she raises herself up and sinks back down onto him. You seemed to arrive at the most inconvenient moment(for you) because he glances at you, making direct eye contact as he grabs her hips, slamming her back down as he fills her up. Spurts of white dripping out of her gaping hole down her thighs as he unhooks her leg from his own thigh. Pulling out of her harshly. Shoving her off of him as if she was an animal. An object for his use. The woman doesn’t say a word, actually she only says four. Murmuring something about ‘thank you my lord’ as she scurries out of the throne room. Her shawl wrapped around her bare upper half. You take not that her other clothing(what little of it there had been to begin with) had been torn, 

Sukuna looks upon you, with a rather bored expression etched into his face. Resting his head against his hand, his elbow perched on the arm of his throne. He doesn’t bother putting his cock away, still covered in various juices, still standing rock hard.

“Lord Sukuna…” You address him, breaking the weird silence that suffocated the room. 

“Princess.” He looks you slowly up and down. “I’d apologize for the…mess. And the filth..” he glances toward where the woman had scurried off to. “But I don’t care.” He finishes crudely.

“My lord, excuse my bluntness, but why am I here? You’re clearly making an effort to get an heir in…other places.” You speak with a sort of frustration. You’d been dragged to a whole different kingdom, a dreadful one, to find the man who claimed he wanted heirs, spilling himself into another random woman. 

“She cannot give children. Neither can any of the concubines in this castle. They are infertile, deemed undesirable by others in society. But they get their use serving here.” He explains it with such..simplicity. Like it’s the most basic of concepts you don’t understand. 

“And you intend to continue…this, throughout our entire marriage?” You question, growing more irritated at the circumstances.

“If my desires are not satiated.” He rolls his eyes. As if this is boring him further, as if you don’t entertain him. But you aren’t here to entertain him, you’re here to keep your kingdom from war. “Well? Come here.” He orders.

You slowly, begrudgingly make your way over to him. Standing before his throne. Up close, he’s very handsome you have to admit. Pink hair and those intense red eyes…

“Sit.” He pats his thigh. And your eyes widen. You would not sit. Not when he was still dripping in the essence of another woman. Sure, he may be handsome. But your self respect, your dignity, would not allow this. 

“I will do no such thing.” You scoff. Glaring at him with a fury he’d never seen in any woman before. It almost surprises him. Almost. He could play chase, usually he’d bore quickly of cat and mouse, but for a pretty, stubborn little thing like you? This would be fun.

He watches as you storm off, and only when you exit the throne room, does he let his grin spread across his face. He’d have you begging for his cock before the official wedding ceremony, he was sure of it.

Meanwhile, you slowly make your way through the castles halls, eventually finding Choso sat on a decently sized bed. In a room with large windows. At least it didn’t feel like a prison. 

“You’re still here?” You ask carefully, still recovering from her previous interaction with the cursed king.

“I thought I’d wait for you to find your things, in case you got lost.” He stands from the bed. Looking stiff, like he’d been caught doing something bad.

“Won’t your mom be wanting you home?” You inquire, not meaning anything by it. But Choso’s face sinks. Looking visibly sad. 

“I don’t have a mom, I had my brothers…but they’re gone now.” He mumbles. His eyes drifting to the floor. This poor thing…

After barely a moment, an idea pops into you’re head. You could invite him to stay here with you. Surely Sukuna wouldn’t care(it didn’t seem to you like he cared about much of anything). 

“Choso, would you like to stay here with me? For the night, and if you wanna return to town in the morning, you’re more than welcome.” You offer the same sweet, kind and inviting smile you had when you’d first arrived. He’s practically tearing up as he hops around, excitedly chanting. ‘Yes yes yes yes’. 

That night Choso sleeps beneath the moonlight couch that sights by the window. A couple blankets wrapped around his sleeping form. You lay restless longer than you should. Just staring up at the ceiling. Wanting to be almost anywhere else. You’re grateful for the seperate sleeping arrangements, even if it’s probably only until the wedding. Tomorrow would be better, you’d just avoid Sukuna with his rude, vulgar tendencies. And he could fuck all the concubines he wished. Hopefully when you consummated you’re union, it would just take. Then you’d hopefully never have to do it again. He’d get his heir, and that would be the end of it. Though it’s an unrealistic sentiment, you hope for it to be possible. As you slowly drift off. Plagued with nightmares of some dark creature, four arms, covered in familiar black markings. The ones you’d noticed on Sukuna…

I do not give permission for my writing to be copied, republished, put through ai simulations, or anything of the sort.

If you’d like to add to this, or submit asks and feedback you can and are encouraged to do so through reblogs, comments, and asks. I’d love to interact.

#x reader #Sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk au #sukuna x reader #Jjk x reader #anime #Gojo!reader #smut #sukuna smut #Jjk smut

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

✵ Part 2 of what is now a sweet, soft Tim moments miniseries!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: Tim Bradford cares more about you, his boot, than he should. He has a dream about you and realizes that he's in a bad spot.

Warnings: fluff, minor angst, Tim and r making things hard on themselves

Word Count. 1.0k+ words

A/N: Many thanks to the kind words of @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses @writings-of-a-demigod and @newobsessionweekly on the first part! Thanks for the inspiration and love! Here's more soft Tim realizing how he feels.🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Well, what do you think?”

Tim watches you spin in the new outfit before you place your hands on your hips and look at him. He’s been waiting outside the dressing room for too long, but he can’t find it in himself to ask you to leave. 

“It’s beautiful. So were the last five,” Tim tells you. 

“That’s not helpful,” you lament. “I have to pick the best one!”

“It’s a charity dinner, not your wedding. Just pick what you like, what you feel good in, and let’s go. We do have a shift to finish.”

“We have fifteen more minutes of our lunch break,” you point out. “Let me try on one more.”

Tim stands and counters, “Only if I get to pick it.”

“Okay,” you agree softly. “I’m in room 2.”

Tim nods and turns like he’s on a life-dependent mission. He navigates through the racks of clothing as if a suspect is hiding in them. When he finds something he thinks you’ll like and knows you’ll look great wearing, he picks it up and returns to the dressing room. 

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” he says as he passes the hanger over the door. 

“And you always make things so easy,” you argue playfully. “Oh, this is nice.”

Tim returns to the plush chair in the waiting area and leans back. His belt digs into his side, but he doesn’t bother to move. He’d prefer to leave than to find a new position. When you emerge in Tim's suggested outfit, you smile at him, and Tim stands quickly. 

“That’s the one,” he murmurs. 

“I think so too. You have better taste than I anticipated, Bradford.”

You return to the dressing room to change into your uniform again, and Tim feels like he has been kicked in the chest. Everything about this has been domestic, slow, just you and Tim, but then you called him Bradford. And, when he stands beside you in the checkout lane, both dressed in patrol blues, Tim is cruelly reminded that you are his rookie, partners at most, and this was just a convenient trip for you. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For coming with me, for putting up with me, being so nice. Everything.”

“Of course,” Tim answers. 

“I, uh, I was wondering if you had an outfit for the dinner?”

“I’ve got a suit somewhere in my closet.”

You nod and look down at the outfit draped over your arm. 

“I think you need one more thing,” Tim adds. 

“What? I’ve got the outfit, shoes, a-“

“A date,” Tim interrupts. “Do you… would you want to go with me? As more than two cops from the same station?”

You look at him wordlessly and shift on your feet. Tim immediately begins to regret asking and tries to find a way to make a joke or a reason to call you boot and put everything back in perspective. 

“I’m sorry,” he decides on. 

“No, I want to say yes, I just assumed you were kidding.”

“Why?” Tim questions, reaching toward you. 

“You were nice to me the day that I got my hand sliced open, but you told me then that-“

Tim wakes when his arm jerks. He expects to feel you beside him, but as he sits in his bed, in his house, in his lonely existence, he realizes it was all a dream. He was nice to you that day, but he wonders if there’s something he could do now to show you it wasn't a one-off kindness. You’re his rookie, but Tim needs more. 

“Oh,” he murmurs as everything sinks in. He dreamt about you because you affect him and his emotions more than you’ll ever know. That date, the touch he misses without ever feeling, everything about the dream was the unconscious pursuit of Tim’s true desires. 

“This is bad, Kojo,” Tim mumbles. “Very bad.”

The following morning, Tim can’t make eye contact with you. He hasn’t been nervous around a woman since he and Isabel were dating. As he sidesteps you to avoid touching you, he wonders if there is any chance you want it, too. There’s too much risk, he decides; your safety and his judgement are more important than his feelings or some high school-level crush on the one girl he can’t get. 

“So,” you begin as you get in the shop. “Sergeant Grey said days with lots of events are hectic. Does that make this the bad?” you ask. 

“When are you going to stop asking me that?” Tim asks. “You’ll know when the bad is.”

“Well I thought a dozen stitches was bad, but if that was the good, I’d like a heads up from you before the bad really happens.”

“That part wasn’t the good,” Tim huffs. “The bad is… it’s the rest of it. Everything until you pass your exam and start seeing the ugly that scars the good.”

You purse your lips and nod to yourself. “You’re in a good mood today. Chipper, almost.”

“It’s not supposed to make you happy, but it’s police work.”

“I think it’s the bad for another reason,” you admit. “Because I can’t talk about anything. Questions, ideas, opinions, even just how I feel, nothing I say or do gets taken seriously now, but the second I mess up, no one will forget it. My bad days can ruin me.”

“It gets better,” Tim assures. He notices your eyes on him when you say ‘how I feel’ but doesn’t push. “But keeping a low profile as a rookie has its pros and cons.”

You nod and look out the passenger window. This is the bad, and you are already in the worst of it; you and Tim are hiding your feelings from each other and trying to keep them from affecting yourselves. The lies that you and Tim think in a vain effort to stay professional and protect your hearts only make it harder to see that the person sitting beside you sees past your uniform. Your only concern is that the ugly will scar you before you escape from the bad and invite Tim into the good beside you. No matter where you are, in the good, the bad, or the ugly of police work, Tim will be beside you. But maybe you need his hand in yours and a promise that there’s more. Because this is bad, but it could get a whole lot worse. 

#tim bradford x reader #fluentmoviequoter tgtbatu #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x fem!reader #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

[scenesniper]

☆ florian brand ; general sfw & nsfw headcanons

pairing / florian brand x afab gn! reader

disclaimer / possession, jealous themes, manipulation themes, overstimulation

word count / 1,174 words

⭒ florian brand is a man who masks his true nature. he presents him as need be, a humble and altruistic man. in reality, he is a man who does what needs to be to get by. a man who hides himself from the rest of the world.

⭒ when he first saw you, so helpless trapped in the fire. this was not a new sight to him but oh, something awoke in him. the mere sight of you completely overwhelmed the man of want. of need. your arms frantically clutching his shoulders as he carries you out of the fire. he can’t help but think how pathetic you are, just like everyone else. “i am your savior. you do not need anyone else.”

⭒ his brain is already going into gear mode, racking up on how to mark you his. and so he decided, he doesn’t wish for you to just want him. he needs you to need him, unable to do anything but depend on him. “no one could ever love you like i do.”

⭒ he is a manipulative and cunning man, that you had already suspected ever since you met him. he seemed far too good to be of a man with that sham of a smile. he scared you with the way he looked at you, already having expectations of you. it was intimidating to be in his presence.

⭒ in this tiny town, there are far too many fires to be marked as “wildfires” and too little of individuals who’d just want to start fires every now and then. there can only be a serial arsonist you suspect and you can only be cautious to florian brand. yet, everyone brandishes him as a savior. he was this town’s liberator and even though he was the one who saved you from the fire, he was simply off putting to you.

⭒ he knows of your suspicions on him and finds it so humorous of you to be scrambling around about. after all, there will never be any evidence that points back to him. dropping tiny little evidence and hints every now and then just to tease your little self, he was done playing with you and decided that it was finally time for him to approach you more. not just as the boy next door, but something much more.

⭒ he’d frequent and commute to your house your neighborhood more often. since it was a tiny town and florian is a busy, sociable man in the morning and day, the townspeople around you didn’t suspect at all. it’ll start with morning visits, you’d open your door to start on your chores and already, florian is passing by your house. greeting you with a “good morning!” and then nodding his head and waving to the rest of the townspeople in acknowledgment.

⭒ then, as time progresses, those morning acknowledgments would be nightly visits. he’ll finish his work shift and you’ll find himself knocking outside your door. don't let the little fire investigator in.

⭒ kissing with florian are straight up make out sessions, no matter how soft you go at him at him, he’s going to have his tongue deep down in your throat and your lips will start to bruise.

⭒ when you’re finally all in, he’s the type to be showing you off. he loves physical displays of affection and loves to brandishes you in his love. your shoulders (his favorite place to mark you) would be littered with his hickies. he loves to give you kisses, repeatedly in one area. and especially in a private setting, he’ll be giving you trails of kisses down your waist to your hip.

⭒ florian is average in size and in width, much skinny (even though he’s very strong). however, give him some time with you and already, he knows exactly where to get you absolutely mindless.

⭒ he’s such a childish man, he gets too easily jealous as if he’s a little school boy competing for his first love. he’d absolutely have jealous sex with you, repeatedly ranming himself into you in that same area of yours and yet, it hits differently and so deeper each time.

⭒ he’s the type to just fuck you over and over as he blabbers on and blabbers on in your ear. when he gets really into it, he’ll start biting your ear to the point it’ll feel like it’s about to break off and you have to give him repeated jabs in his back for him to finally notice he’s hurting your ears. or better, pull his hair and make him look at you. god, he loves that fiery look in your eyes and that sharp pain that comes with it.

⭒ he loves oral (reader receiving). he loves to suck on your clit and getting lost in it as he goes down on you. he’s the type to close his eyes and just enjoy it all but every now and then, he’ll look up at you and bats his little eyelashes with his eyes upturning and you know, he’s chaffing at you and loving it. after he’s done, with your legs shaking with how many time you came in his mouth, he’ll show off his tooth eating grin to you with your essence dripping down his lips.

⭒ he loves to overstimulate you and everything about your body parts. he’ll flick and play with your clit on hours and end, humming to himself and whispering lovely pet names to you such as “dear” and “honey”.

⭒ he gets off on your praise. everything you say with him, especially praise, keeps him going during sex. even degradation as any emotions that you feel towards him. whether it be happy, sad, or even mad at him, it has his blood boiling with endearment. he loves your attention and every form of it. as long as it’s directed towards him and nobody else.

⭒ he loves overstimulation. he loves to br overstimulated, you bouncing on his cock or him ramming you in to the point your mind goes blank and you’re practically twitching by the end. he gets so full of himself when he sees that sight of you.

⭒ he loves mirror sex. balls deep in you and having that sight all to himself, your bodies touching each other and you gripping his shoulder like the first day he met you. he’ll take you by your chin and have you turn your head to see yourself and him. “look how good you’re taking me darling. so lovely.” sex with florian is all messy, filled with need and want.

⭒ during sex and aftercare, you can always smell a faint gasoline on him. but what can you say? in fact, you already stopped caring about that little investigation of yours. you must be imagining. who are you to question him as he cleans up the mess and as he stradles you so lovingly in his arms with soft, buttery kisses to put you to sleep.

#florian brand #florian brand x reader #idv x reader #identity v x reader #identity v x reader smut #idv x reader smut #identity v x reader smut headcanon #identity v x reader smut headcanons #identity v x reader smut hc #identity v x reader smut hcs #idv x reader smut hc #idv x reader smut hcs #idv x reader smut headcanon #idv x reader smut headcanons #identity v smut #idv smut #florian brand smut #florian brand x reader smut #florian brand headcanon #florian brand headcanons #identity v smut headcanon #identity v smut headcanons

[lau219]

Enemies with Benefits

Part 8

Previous part here

...................................................................................…….

“I said no,” Y/N repeated herself as she and Tommy argued with each other across the bar top.

She was standing behind the bar, taking an inventory of the liquor bottles and prepping the tills in the registers for later that night, and he was standing on the other side, leaning across the bar as they spoke, a cigarette between his fingers.

“You don’t solely get to call the shots anymore, love,” he replied to her. “Now that I own this place, I can make changes if I want.”

“You’re supposed to take into account what I have to say on anything regarding operations,” Y/N.

“Yeah, but this isn’t operations, this is...atmosphere.”

Tommy then took another drag from his cigarette, which was almost burned down to the end, and Y/N’s eyes went to his hand as he raised it to his lips.

“Is that your third or fourth pack today?” she asked sarcastically.

“Fifth,” Tommy replied back, meeting her sarcasm as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and stubbed it out in the ashtray sitting on the bar in front of him.

“You need to cut back on those things,” she said, shaking her head.

Tommy smiled and raised an eyebrow.

“Worried about me, are you, love?” he asked.

She shook her head again.

“Just don’t want you to keel over until after I win our bet,” she answered. “I need you alive long enough to sign this place back over to me.”

Tommy smiled again.

“Whatever you say,” he responded, and then he reached for his pack and pulled out another cigarette, swiftly lighting it.

“Oh my God, stop!” Y/N said, stepping up to the bar and reaching over, pulling it from his mouth where he’d just placed it. “Seriously, you have a problem. You need to find something else to occupy your hands.”

Tommy gave her a wicked grin.

“You wanna help me with that, love?” he said. “Bring your ass over to this side of the bar and those cigarettes will be long forgotten.”

Y/N smirked at him.

“Nice try,” she said, but she couldn’t help but wonder how it’d feel to have his hands on her. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew exactly how to touch a woman.

“Besides,” Y/N continued, still holding the cigarette between her fingers, “the fact that you smell like an ashtray makes the chances of that happening very low.”

“So, the chances are high if I cut back?” he asked with another wicked smile.

“I didn’t say that,” Y/N responded with an amused smile of her own.

“I think that’s exactly what you’re saying,” he insisted, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

Still looking at her, Tommy continued.

“Well, we can’t let that one go to waste,” he said, and he tried to take the cigarette back from her. In response, Y/N stepped back and pulled it out of his reach, bringing it to her own lips instead and taking a drag.

“Such a hypocrite,” Tommy said as he shook his head.

“Hardly,” she replied. “You have a dependence; I indulge occasionally.”

Tommy’s eyes were glued to her as he responded.

“You should indulge more often,” he said lowly.

He didn’t think it was possible for her to get any sexier, but he stood corrected as she seductively brought the cigarette to her lips again and met his eyes. It turned him on just as much as the first time she’d done it that night they’d discussed her working for him. As he watched her lips wrap around the cigarette, his mind immediately went to the thought of those same luscious lips pressed warmly against his, and then eventually wrapping around his cock. But he was pulled out of the thought as Y/N reached for the ashtray between them and stubbed out the cigarette.

She needed the distraction, because the way Tommy was currently looking at her had sent a shiver up her spine, although, admittedly, not in a bad way. Averting her eyes, she spoke as she pushed the ashtray aside.

“My answer is still no,” she said, returning the conversation to what they’d been arguing over. “You’re not installing some ridiculous, over-the-top lighting system in here. That’s not the image I want for this place. This isn’t some tacky, obnoxious dance club with seizure-inducing flashes running nonstop all night.”

“It wouldn’t be tacky, and it will drive up business,” Tommy replied as he looked at her. “It’ll make people dance more. The more they dance, the more they drink. The more they drink, the more money we make.”

“Business is just fine, thank you very much, and I’m not letting you turn my club into some sleazy rave destination.”

“Our club,” Tommy corrected her, holding her eyes.

Surprised by his rephrasing, Y/N paused for a moment, but then she shook her head yet again.

“You need to start getting used to hearing the word ‘no’, Shelby,” she said.

He smirked.

“Maybe you’ll be more inclined to listen to my suggestions about atmosphere after you see your office.”

Y/N scrunched her brow, not understanding.

“What? What do you mean?” She hadn’t been in her office yet that day, having been up front talking to him since she’d arrived earlier that afternoon.

“I may have made a few changes already,” Tommy replied.

Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“What did you do?” she said, her voice low with accusation.

Tommy smiled at her expression, jerking his head in the direction of her office.

“Come on,” he said.

“What did you do?” Y/N asked again, staying planted in her spot.

Setting his phone down on the counter, Tommy walked down the length of the bar and rounded it, stepping behind the bar and walking up to her. Placing a hand in the small of her back, he nudged her forward, then followed behind her as she reluctantly began to move.

“Only one way to find out,” he said to her, his hand remaining on her back.

Although her mind was mostly focused on preparing herself for whatever he was about to show her, Y/N couldn’t ignore how much she found herself enjoying the feel of his hand on her or the closeness of him behind her. And although she’d told him he smelled like an ashtray, it was actually his cologne that was most prominent – an arousing, masculine scent that invaded her senses and fit him perfectly.

Once they made it to her closed office door, Tommy stepped in front and to the side of her, reaching for the doorknob. As she gave him another suspicious glare, he simply smiled and raised his eyebrows before then turning the knob and pushing open the door.

The room had been completely changed. It was nearly unrecognizable, and Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief as she took it all in.

Her old, heavy, scratched up desk had been replaced with a slimmer polished wood design, behind it which sat a cushy desk chair. On the desk itself, two pretty lamps gave off a warm light to the room and highlighted the brand-new laptop that was sitting on the desktop. The walls had been re-painted a lovely shade, and several new pieces of art had been hung on the walls to join her own pieces she’d already had hung up previously. There was a new wide file cabinet in the back corner that matched the wood of the desk, on top of which sat a vase of fresh flowers and a small TV. Finally, two plush, inviting chairs sat in front of the desk, and her other personal items that had been in the office previously had been arranged back to fit in with the new furniture.

She stood silently in the doorway for several moments, just processing not only the changes, but the fact that Tommy had done this for her. She could feel him watching her, waiting for some kind of reaction, but she was speechless. Finally, he broke the silence.

“What do you think?” he asked her.

Slowly turning towards him, Y/N shook her head.

“It’s...it’s...unbelievable,” she said, her expression still one of shock.

“Good or bad?” Tommy asked, almost looking concerned, worried that she wouldn’t like it.

“Good,” Y/N answered, turning from him and looking around the room again. “I love it. But...” she turned to him once more. “Why did you do this?”

Tommy smiled at her floored expression.

“Because when I looked at the books, I saw that you’ve not done a thing for yourself in eight years. You’ve repeatedly given your employees bonuses, replaced equipment, remodeled and repaired this place, but you’ve done it all while sitting at a desk and using a computer that the Smithsonian has placed bids on for their next exhibit.”

Shaking her head again, she met his eyes.

“We don’t have the money in the budget for this right now,” she said.

“This wasn’t taken out of the budget,” he replied.

Y/N’s eyes widened.

“You paid for this?”

Tommy just smiled again.

“Why?” she asked him again. “Why did you do this?”

“If you’re gonna continue to run this place as well as you have, then you need the right space to do it in.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” Y/N responded. “I mean, it’s too much. It’s...” she looked at him again, repeating herself. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Tommy stepped closer to her.

“Do you like it?” he asked her again for confirmation.

She nodded.

“I love it.”

“Then it’s not too much,” he concluded.

Still looking at him, Y/N took a step closer to him.

“I feel like I need to thank you, but that just doesn’t seem right,” she said, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “You’re not supposed to be anything but awful,” she teased him.

Tommy smiled widely in amusement as he took another step closer to her, their bodies not far apart.

“I’ll forego the spoken words in exchange for a different form of appreciation,” he responded. “My hands still need something to occupy them, anyways.”

“You also still stink,” Y/N replied, a playful smile of her own on her face.

“So, if I didn’t, you’d be thanking me right now?” he asked, both of them knowing exactly what “thanking” meant.

Stepping as close as possible to Tommy without touching him, Y/N reached up and patted his chest through his jacket, tapping his pack of cigarettes that he kept in his interior breast pocket. Their eyes met when they both looked up, and she smiled mischievously.

“I guess you’ll never know,” she said.

———————————————

It was 30 minutes before they were going to open the doors, and Y/N was giving the staff a final rundown of the plan for the evening. Now with Tommy as the new owner, they were treating this night as somewhat of a grand re-opening, and a line outside had already formed to get in.

They’d advertised that the place was under new ownership, and a new drink menu had been created along with new food options. Although they hadn’t settled on Tommy’s idea for the lighting system, they had installed the new sound system that Y/N had already set the money aside for before Tommy had even come into the picture. He’d hired a well-known DJ for the night, and everyone was excited to see how things would go.

“If you see a single ID that looks suspicious, give it to Trevor immediately,” Y/N said as everyone was gathered near the bar. “And if anyone looks or acts like they’ve been overserved, do not give them another drink. Either push some food on them or give them something non-alcoholic, free of charge.”

“Are we still doing the complimentary shots?” one of the bartenders asked.

“Yes, you can,” Y/N replied. “But do it early before people have too many other drinks in them already.”

“Hold that thought, love,” Tommy suddenly spoke up, pushing himself off the bar, which he’d been leaning against. He was there to observe and watch how everyone handled the crowd, and how the changes they’d incorporated would impact the evening.

“What?” Y/N asked as she and everyone else looked over to him.

“What’s with all the complimentary offerings?” Tommy said.

“A borderline drunk will gladly accept a free soft drink over being cut off completely, and that keeps them from getting too rowdy,” she replied.

“And the shots?” he asked.

“It’s something we’ve always done, occasionally giving a free round to people. It keeps them coming back.”

Tilting his head, Tommy held her eyes.

“Can we have a word?” he said.

Y/N looked back at him for a second before directing her attention back to the staff briefly.

“You guys can finish setting up,” she said to them. “We’ll have a final huddle in a few minutes.”

As the staff dispersed, Y/N walked over to Tommy, meeting him against the bar. He looked incredibly handsome in a dark suit jacket and button up, and as his cologne filled her nose again, she was momentarily distracted.

“I don’t want you giving out anything for free,” he said to her as she stopped in front of him.

“Why? What’s the big deal? It’s soda and cheap vodka. It keeps the drunks at bay and makes people come back. It’s not a significant loss.”

“How often are you doing this?” he asked her.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders.

“Often enough to know that it doesn’t impact the bottom line a lot.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Tommy said. “Every penny counts. This isn’t a free-for-all, and now that I’m owner, I don’t want any unnecessary losses.”

“Already throwing that fact around to get what you want, huh?” Y/N said to him with an irritated look.

“It’s simple math, love,” he replied. “And I’m not a fan of subtraction. Or handouts.”

“What do you call what you did to my office, then?” she asked him.

He looked at her seriously.

“Investing in something worthwhile,” he replied.

Y/N paused, her expression softening slightly as she looked back at him for just a second before speaking again.

“Really, it’s not a big deal,” she said. “It’s barely a loss.”

“No,” he said plainly, shaking his head.

“Shelby, you can’t just come in here and start changing the way I do things.”

“As the owner, I can,” he said.

“You’re supposed to take my say into account,” she reminded him.

“I have, love,” he said. “And after consideration, my decision on this stands.”

Y/N released an exasperated breath, deciding that she’d fight him more on this later, when there wasn’t a line at the door.

“Fine, whatever! But this conversation isn’t over,” she said to him. Then she whipped around and walked off to tell everyone that there wouldn’t be anything handed out for free tonight.

As the evening unfolded, they soon discovered that the changes they’d incorporated were a huge success. People were having a great time, and everything was running surprisingly smoothly. Y/N and Tommy didn’t speak again, Y/N too busy darting around to monitor and help anywhere it was needed and stepping in for any problems or hiccups. Tommy would get up occasionally to walk around and observe things from a different angle, but he mostly stayed seated at a table off to the side that he’d claimed earlier, and he and Y/N’s eyes met several times throughout the night as she moved around the place.

It was captivating to watch her. As always, she was in her element, and Tommy smiled to himself as he thought about how confident she’d been when she’d proposed her little bet with him. He had yet to decide when he’d take her on their first date, but as he watched her pretty face light up as she talked and laughed with people and noted how insanely gorgeous she looked in her little black dress, he decided it would be very soon.

After a few hours, things had calmed down slightly, as the staff had gotten into a groove with the new drinks and food, and everything was flowing well. Standing near the edge of the dance floor, Y/N was talking with Elise when, all of a sudden, the lights in the entire place dimmed briefly and the music stopped for just a second. Looking up at the ceiling and then around the room in surprise, Y/N was trying to figure out what was going on when the DJ suddenly began a bass-heavy song and lights began flashing around the room. Once again looking up, Y/N saw that multiple sets of light systems had come down from the ceiling, and as the music and flashing continued, she realized what he’d done.

That bastard had already installed the lights before he’d ever even told her about it.

Immediately, Y/N turned around and set her gaze on where she knew Tommy was sitting. As she found him and their eyes met across the room, he smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders casually.

Narrowing her eyes, Y/N tilted her head and released an offended scoff of disbelief. She glared at him for another moment before making a quick decision and marching over behind the bar. Moving past a few of the bartenders, she grabbed several trays from the back bar and began loading them up with shot glasses. She then handed a liquor bottle to Matt and ordered him to start filling the glasses as she worked on her own tray.

“I thought we weren’t handing out shots,” Matt said as he picked up the tray and passed it to a server to start handing out. He then took the next tray Y/N handed him and filled more shot glasses.

“Plans have changed,” Y/N replied calmly, and she began lining up shot glasses on the bar top and filling them generously.

After several minutes, countless shots had been poured and handed out, and Y/N looked over to Tommy again. He hadn’t noticed what she’d put in motion, and she smiled to herself as she reveled in being about to piss him off. When the server who she’d sent to go talk to the DJ returned, she grabbed the microphone that was kept behind the bar for making announcements, and then she got Matt’s attention.

“Help me up here,” she said to him, slapping the bar top with her hand.

“What?” he said, raising his eyebrows at her.

“Help me up onto the bar, and then get ready to catch me when I jump off in a minute.”

“Are you serious?” he asked her.

“Are you gonna help me, or not?” she replied.

Not responding, Matt instead grabbed Y/N’s hand, helping her step up onto the rail and then pushing her under her butt to hoist her up onto the bar top. Once she was situated and standing, Y/N looked across the room and made eye contact with the DJ, who then slowly faded out the music as he simultaneously flicked a spotlight onto her, the microphone poised near her mouth.

“Hello, everyone! Can I have your attention please?”

Y/N watched as everyone in the room turned to look up at her. She knew Tommy was one of the many sets of eyes that were now on her, but she didn’t look over to him.

“Is everyone having a good time tonight?” Y/N asked the crowd through the microphone. Her question was followed by a plethora of shouts, screams, and whistles of positive confirmation as she began to speak again.

“As some of you may know, I’m the manger here, but as we’ve advertised for this evening, we’re now under new ownership.”

A few more shouts and whistles came from the crowd as she paused, and then she lifted the microphone once more.

“With this new owner comes extreme generosity. In fact, he’s the reason you all have a shot glass in hand right now. This shot comes to you free, compliments of our new owner, and he’s here tonight. What do you say we thank him?”

Once more, Y/N paused as the crowd again released a mix of hollers and whistles. Quickly, she looked down and stretched her hand out to Matt, and he lifted a filled shot glass up to her. After taking it from him, Y/N raised the glass in the air in a toast.

“To our new owner,” she said into the microphone, “his generosity knows no bounds. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Tommy Shelby!”

With that, Y/N stretched out her hand that held the microphone to point across the room to Tommy, and at the same time, the DJ flipped the spotlight onto him. The crowd erupted into applause and screams as they turned to Tommy, who momentarily looked like a deer in headlights. Quickly he recovered, rising from his seat and looking over to the DJ, motioning for him to cut the spotlight as the people in the crowd downed their shots and the music resumed once more.

Watching him, Y/N smirked in triumph as Tommy turned from the DJ and looked up at her from across the room. His jaw was set in a hard line, but Y/N continued to smirk at him as she held his eyes. People from the crowd were already approaching him to talk, which she knew he’d hate just as much as her free handout to them. Lifting her arm once more, she raised her shot glass to him and gave him a cheeky grin before tossing back the contents of her glass. She then looked at him once more before swiftly turning around, looking below for Matt, who caught her in his arms as she jumped down off the bar.

Smiling to herself, Y/N replaced the microphone behind the rail before picking up a clean shot glass and pouring herself another.

He thought he was so clever. Thought he was so slick.

Well, Tommy Shelby had met his match.

Part 9

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @febris-amatoria @allie131313 @natalie--rushman

@beastofburdenxo @aphroditeslover11 @garrison-girl-08 @meister95 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree

@hannibellector @neonpurplestars89-blog @betty21rose @hudson-bay-girl @fuseburner

@wild-rose-35 @fairytale07 @judig92 @galactict3a @runnning-outof-time

@ceirinen @devotedlyshadowytheorist

#modern tommy shelby #modern tommy shelby x reader #modern tommy fic #modern tommy shelby smut #modern tommy #modern peaky blinders #cillian murphy #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fic #18+ only

[hanafubukki]

I binged your Lilia with a baby daughter and I couldn't get enough. Can you imagine if General Lilia gets yeeted into that timeline and he finds out that not only did his future self marry a human but also actually have a child with her. If current timeline Half Faces are already kinda rare so imagine from his time where he's at war with them. Also how Lilia's little girl interacting with her Papa (who isn't really her Papa but also isn't lmao) Also, MC who he is married to. I just wanna see his Tsun Tsun ass be flustered but confused lmao. Ok, thank youuu!

[referring to these posts: 1, 2, and 3]

Hello Anonie 🌺🌷🌻

I'm happy that you enjoyed them anonie! I had a blast writing them. 🌟💚

Ohhhh Anonie you guys know how to hit my weak spots 😂💕💜 Babies, General Lilia, time travel shenanigans oh my 🤣💚 You and me 🤝 wants to see General Lilia tsun tsun butt be flustered mwah chef kiss.

General Lilia being sent to the future is a curse and a blessing...depending on who you ask 😂 jkjk

Just thinking about it and I just?? Love the thought of General Vanrouge meeting a new born baby or up to a 1 year old. Something about him just holding her with these awkward hands just has me so soft 😩🥹

But then I also think our Lilia might be possessive and go ‘My Baby’ on him, even though that’s literally himself 🤣

I have so many thoughts sooo many on how General Vanrouge’s reaction to Malleus and Silver could go, and even Sebek. But more so on Malleus and Silver. Also his reaction to his future self too, you know??

In reverse, our Lilia’s reaction to his past self. It can go many ways as well. Depending on how General Vanrouge reacts. Papa instincts ✨

But we’ll skip that because this ask is about baby and General Vanrouge ✨✨

A part of me thinks that our Lilia is going to just yeet the baby at his past self. Deja vu right?? Don’t worry, he knows himself and knows the General will catch the little one.

After flicking Lilia on the forehead for his actions and letting Mal and Sil deal with him, you go to the General who’s frozen. He caught her of course, but he seems stumped on what to do.

You can’t blame him really. After being in war and seeing and dealing with what he has. This peace and quiet must be new, not to mention being in the future.

So you go to him and as gently as possible, making sure to not frighten him, move his hands so he’s more comfortably holding the baby.

Unknown to him, but his eyes softened as the little one curled into him while making cooing noises. You know your Lilia is taking a bunch of pictures.

“See? You’re a natural.”

He looks at you in disbelief but you can see the amazement in them too.

You tell him how he has no choice but to hold the baby now because she will cry if you move her from her new favorite spot. He flusters a bit at that.

Time goes on, General Vanrouge wears casual clothing and hangs up his armor temporarily after Lilia had a talk with him. His weapon is with him, you all understand why. His need to protect what’s his is engraved even though he doesn’t see it yet.

[Sometimes you see your Lilia looking at the armor. His eyes mixed with emotions. You simply lay your head on his shoulder; he kisses your hand]

The General gets attached to your daughter. She babbles at him and pulls at his hair. He tries not to flinch. For someone who was against raising kids, the General doesn’t say anything when your daughter stuffs his hair into her mouth or drools on him as she sleeps.

Lilia’s proud, “that’s my girl!” is often heard.

At one point, you take pity on him. You take a hairbrush, running it carefully through his hair before tying it in a high bun. You fondly roll your eyes at the pout your Lilia has before taking your daughter to feed. For the General’s sake, you chose not to comment on his flustered expression.

Our Lilia is repeatedly saying “spoilers” which irritates the General whenever he asks a question. You get why it’s frustrating but the scene is rather funny and your baby girl’s laughter agrees with you.

“I won’t have you ruining my future! I’ll have you know I wouldn’t change anything for the happiness I have now, so you have to be patient.”

Malleus and Silver both have the sweetest smile. They know exactly what he means.

The General watches how his future self acts. You can see the slight scowl and twitch of his eyebrow. He’s questioning his whole existence.

What surprises you is his question to you.

“Are you sure you want to be married to that?”

“Hey!”

You laugh softly, tenderly tucking a stray stand behind his ear, “Yes. He’s you, isn’t he?”

The smile you give him then has him falling deeper unbeknownst to him.

Anabskdkds okay, but why am I the one flustered now?? Qbskwjwjejr 😂💞🥰

Ahhhhh this was longer than I expected but I had so many ideas and I wanted to especially include that last one 🥹💞

Thank you for sending this in Anonie 😭💚 Currently screaming into a pillow and rolling in bed. Ahhhhh 💞💞💞💚💚

#answered #Anonie ask #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #twst silver #diasomnia #general lilia vanrouge #general lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #general Vanrouge x reader #general vanrouge #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #no major twst book 7 spoilers #mallleus draconia and twst silver mention

[mononijikayu]

“i canʼt hold enough of you in my hands.” — gojo satoru.

His little fingers peeked out from the blanket, and you couldn’t resist the urge to gently stroke them, feeling their soft warmth. You looked at your husband, who let out a little laugh as you showed him your son’s little chubby fingers. There was much to love about your little dawn. If life had ever begun, it would be when your son was born. And Satoru believed that as much as you did — that’s for sure.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, family, comfort, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: l'amore dice ciao (slow take) by armando trovajoli

NOTE: i knew i said i wasn't going to write more, but i ended up writing this because i ended the other one so sadly that i realized i needed something that was genuinely happy. so i did that. i'll be writing more within the next eleven days. but we'll see, depending on my schedule!!! i love you!!! enjoy <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

IT WAS QUITE AN EXPERIENCE, BRINGING HOME A BABY IN YOUR HUMBLE ABODE. You had never expected to be so overprotective over anything in your entire life, especially not on a simple car ride. But here you were, cradling your most precious treasure in your arms, heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and overwhelming love. Your newborn son, Satoshi, nestled against your chest, was the very embodiment of fragility and new beginnings.

The car ride from the hospital to your home felt like an eternity. Every bump in the road, every sudden stop or start, sent a jolt of worry through you. You tightened your hold on Satoshi, making sure his tiny head was well-supported, his small body swaddled snugly in a soft blanket. The world outside seemed too chaotic, too unpredictable for someone so small and innocent.

Beside you, your husband, Gojo Satoru sat with his bright blue eyes fixed lovingly on the little bundle in your arms. His usual carefree demeanor was replaced by a focused intensity, every bit the protective father. 

He kept glancing between you, sleeping Satoshi, the road ahead, and Ichiji who seemed more tense than usual. Satoru’s tension could be felt from that far, you suppose. But you can’t fault your husband at all. His hand occasionally reaches over to rest reassuringly on your knee, as though it was to calm him and you simultaneously. 

“Are you okay, darling?” he asked softly, his voice a gentle caress.

You nodded, but the anxiety still lingered. “I’m just… it’s so surreal. He’s so tiny, so perfect. I want to make sure everything is perfect for him.”

Satoru’s cerulean eyes softened, and he reached over to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You’re already doing an amazing job. He’s lucky to have you as his mama, darling.”

Satoshi stirred slightly, making a small cooing sound that melted your heart. You looked down at his tiny face, marveling at his delicate features. He looked exactly like Satoru, that’s what his mother said. And you could definitely see it. His small mouth quirked joyously the way his father does. His white–silver locks were as tender and soft as Satoru's own. His chubby cheeks were warm too. And you were so in love. So entirely absorbed by your love for your son. 

His little fingers peeked out from the blanket, and you couldn’t resist the urge to gently stroke them, feeling their soft warmth. You looked at your husband, who let out a little laugh as you showed him your son’s little chubby fingers. There was much to love about your little dawn. If life had ever begun, it would be when your son was born. And Satoru believed that as much as you did — that’s for sure. 

The car pulled into the driveway of your little home, and Satoru quickly got out to open the door for you. He extended his hand to help you out, his touch steadying you as you carefully stepped onto the pavement. You whisper a thankful retort to your husband, who grinned at you and turned to Ichiji, who nearly jumped when Satoru thanked him genuinely. 

Satoru led the way as you walked into your home, his six-eyes trying to check for any changes in the house. When you both got in, it seemed safe enough but then again, Satoru led you to the nursery. Every inch of the nursery was built by your husband. He was excited about trying to make it as bright as possible, as colorful as possible and he had meticulously prepared in the weeks leading up to Satoshi’s birth. 

The quaint little room was better than you could have imagined it. Satoru had not wanted to show you anything until the baby arrived. It was a surprise for both you and your little boy. It was just a perfect little haven of soft pastels and gentle light. You were impressed with how it all blended together, how he had managed to put everything into a theme. But you knew that’s just how much your husband loves your son. Looking at him, you wondered how much more you could love this man, how much more love your heart can take for him.

“Did you do everything from scratch?” You whispered to him, mindful of your little boy. 

He hummed in reply. “But it’s not just me. ‘miki and ‘gumi both helped, y’know? I couldn’t have done it without them!”

You smiled when you heard that. When you told the two that you were expecting, it was a whirlwind.  Tsumiki was jumping up in joy, Megumi seemed stunned that there was to be a baby. You didn't expect Megumi to have a loud reaction, he was always more quiet. But you knew that overtime, he was just as excited as his elder sister. He showed that through his little acts, like asking about the baby, asking if you both needed anything. He was tender like that.

You wouldn’t say that your pregnancy was a dream. It was hard. You were nauseated all the time, you were crying day and night, you couldn’t keep food down. But your two little ones did what they could to help you out. Megumi knew that you couldn’t eat much, but he would make sure there was already hot tea and some slices of fruit you can eat for you to enjoy in the mornings.

Tsumiki made sure that she helped you out with some small tasks Satoru allowed you to do, that she could embrace you when you feel like crying about some little things. They were both wonderful with you throughout the pregnancy, they’ve always been wonderful to you since you met them. 

At this moment, you wanted to see them both. And you were sure they’d like to see you and the little one. But you knew that they won’t arrive until tomorrow. You were thankful that your mother took Megumi and Tsumiki with her until you could come home from the hospital.

You gently laid little Satoshi in his crib, tucking the blanket around him. Satoru stood beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist carefully. He lets out a small sigh as both of you watch as your son settles into his new environment. The room seemed to glow with a serene tranquility, the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?” Satoru whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You leaned against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “He is. And he’s ours.”

“Hm, he’ll always be.” He agrees, his hand tracing across the small of your back. “The kids will love him, I’m pretty sure.”

“Tsumiki will just gobble him up.” You laughed softly.

“And Megumi’s gonna be a bit flustered, ‘m sure.”

“Hey, he’s just a little shy! He’s trying.”

Satoru kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering as if trying to imprint the moment in his memory. “Hm, he is.”

“Thank you.” 

“What for, darling?”

You smile at him. “For giving me this lovely little life.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Darling, if anything, I should be the one saying that, hm?”

“I love you.” You whispered against him, letting your hand trail against his free hand. “Genuinely.”

“Love you too, very much.” He squeezes your hand back. “All four of you. We’re going to be okay, darling.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of happiness and the sheer weight of the responsibility ahead. “I know. ‘cause we have each other.”

He smiles. ”Nothing better than that.”

As you stood there, watching over your son, you felt a profound sense of completeness. The future held many uncertainties, but this moment was perfect. Surrounded by the love of your husband and the new life you had brought into the world, you knew that together, you could face anything.

Satoru’s hand found yours, squeezing gently. “Welcome home, my little dawn.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “This is just the beginning.”

You nodded, resting your head against Satoru’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. In that small, serene nursery, surrounded by the promise of new beginnings, you felt a deep and abiding peace. 

This was your peace.

This was your home.

And this was your future. 

You were truly content now.

SOMEHOW, ADJUSTING WAS QUITE A WORD TO LEARN. Life as new parents to your little boy, Satoshi, was a whirlwind of joy, exhaustion, and moments that you knew would become cherished memories. And though it was hard most days, stressful even — you both would not trade it for anything else.

Gojo Satoru, ever the dedicated father, decided to take paternity leave, putting his duties aside to focus on his growing family.  He didn’t care about what the higher ups were going to say about it.  He just sent a phone call, turned off his phone and left them to deal with the situation until he could come back. He was not going to let any sense of his duty ruin his first glimpses as a father.

The decision brought a new level of warmth and connection to your home, a sanctuary away from the chaos of the world outside. It was more common now to see Gojo Satoru standing by the kitchen at two in the morning, trying to warm up frozen breast milk or being up and about by seven to make Megumi and Tsumiki’s bento boxes and see them off to school.

Satoru’s presence was a source of comfort and strength postpartum. He refused to let you raise a finger while he was in the house. You were still healing from the birth, he said. The best thing for you is to enjoy your relaxation and rest, while he does his part. It’s the smallest thing, he says to you as he gives you your breakfast that morning, there’s nothing to worry about. 

Most nights, when he lets you go to sleep as much as you can — you end up waking up to walk towards the bathroom to pee and you would see him, sitting in the living room. You would stand there, watching him as he finds himself cradling Satoshi, whispering sweet words of love and promises for the future. His cerulean eyes, usually so full of mischief, softened with a tenderness that melted your heart each time you saw him with your son.

You couldn’t help but enjoy seeing him so domesticated, to be at such a peace with himself, with his life. This was such a far cry from the Gojo Satoru you had known in your youths. And it was so beautiful, how genuinely graceful he had adapted to his new life. He was always there, with a gentle touch and a reassuring smile, ready to do what he had to for your comfort. 

“He’s just so small!” Tsumiki gushed, looking at the baby and then at you and Satoru. Her smile was from ear to ear. “Satoru-san, he looks exactly like you!”

Satoru laughed softly, a sound filled with pride and joy. “Hm, doesn’t he? He was born on my birthday too! My precious little ‘toshi.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of the moment. “Yes, he does. But look closer, Tsumiki. He’s got my nose and my stubborn streak already.”

Tsumiki leaned in, examining Satoshi’s tiny features with a thoughtful expression. “Oh, you’re right! I can see it now. He’s a perfect mix of both of you.” She looked up, her eyes sparkling. “He’s going to be so loved.”

Megumi, standing a bit shyly to the side,  as he looked at you and nodded. “Yeah, he is.” He stepped closer, peering at Satoshi with a mixture of curiosity and affection. “Welcome home….Satoshi.”

Megumi and Tsumiki were adjusting well to having a baby around the house. Satoru teased them both about being Satoshi’s elder siblings often, Tsumiki was gleeful and Megumi was always bashful. It was so lovely to watch. The house became more livelier than ever before.

You always noted that Tsumiki was a natural caregiver, always ready to lend  a hand with diaper changes or soothing Satoshi when he was fussy. You and Satoru often told her that she didn’t have to, but she insists that she wants to  spend time with him. She adored him, her nurturing nature shining through in every interaction.

Megumi, on the other hand, was more reserved. Shy about expressing his love for Satoshi with words, he found other ways to show his affection. He would sit quietly by Satoshi’s crib, reading aloud from his favorite books, or he’d be the first to arrive when Satoshi’s cries echoed through the house, ready to offer a pacifier or a comforting touch.

Satoru reached out, ruffling Megumi’s hair gently. “You’re going to be good to him, hm? Aren’t you, Megumi? I’m counting on you to help keep an eye on him when I’m not around, ‘kay?”

Megumi’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he nodded with determination. “I will.”

You felt a wave of gratitude and love for your makeshift family, the bonds between all of you growing stronger with each passing moment. “Of course we will.” you said softly, looking at each of them in turn. “We’re going to take care of each other, always.”

Tsumiki smiled warmly. “I’m so happy. It’s like our family keeps growing, and it’s just... perfect.”

Satoru pulled both Tsumiki and Megumi into a gentle hug, careful not to jostle Satoshi in your arms. “We’re a team, always remember!” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “No matter what, we stick together.”

“Of course!” Tsumiki cheered in reply.

Satoru looked at Megumi, pulling him closer. “What about you, ‘gumi? We’re all in this together!”

Megumi flustered, trying to shove your husband. “Ugh, stop—”

“Ehhhh! Just say it once, come on now!”

“I don’t wanna!”

“Megumi, come on! Satoru–san has a point!”

“I still don’t want to!”

As you watched this heartfelt moment, your heart swelled with emotion. The little ones have had quite a rough life, you knew that much. But to know that they have a home here, that they were happy here. The love and unity in your heart for your little home were palpable. Despite the challenges ahead, all the things you may never know — you knew that with your husband and the kids, you’ll always be fine.

Satoshi stirred slightly, his tiny hand reaching out as if sensing the warmth and love around him. You gently kissed his forehead, whispering softly, “See, Satoshi? You’re so loved by everyone, you know?”

Satoru glanced at you, his eyes shimmering with unabashed joy. “We’re going to give him the best life, darling. I promise you that.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace and contentment. “I know we will. Together.”

The gentle hum of life outside seemed to pause in reverence for the precious moment unfolding within your home. Satoshi nestled peacefully in your arms, his tiny fingers curling and uncurling as if grasping at the very fabric of love that surrounded him. The soft murmur of your family’s voices filled the air, a symphony of warmth that your little boy seems to be so in love with.

“Hey... can I hold him?” Megumi asked, his voice hesitant but hopeful.

You turned to Megumi, seeing the earnestness in his eyes. This was a big step for him, wanting to connect with his new brother in such a tangible way. You looked at Satoru, who was grinning. You smiled and nodded.

Satoru’s smile was warm and encouraging. “Of course, Megumi. Just be gentle, hm? He’s still too small, after all.”

With careful movements, You carefully handed Satoshi over to Megumi. The young boy’s face lit up with a rare, genuine smile as he cradled the little bundle in his arms. Satoshi, sensing the familiar presence, settled almost immediately, his tiny hand reaching up to grasp Megumi’s finger.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Look at them.” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “We’re really doing this.”

You leaned into Satoru, your heart swelling with love for your family. “Yes, we are, aren't we?" you replied softly. “And it’s perfect.”

Megumi looked up, his expression one of pure wonder. “He’s so small.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “But he’s... perfect.”

“You’re doing great, Megumi,” you whispered, your heart swelling with pride.

Tsumiki joined you, her eyes shining with happiness. “He loves you, Megumi. You’re such a good big brother to him already."

“....am not his big brother.” he says shyly, scarlet blush across his face. 

“Nah, you are.” Satoru whispers at him, smiling as he pats Megumi’s hair. “You will always be his big brother, okay?”

You giggled. “And he’s happy about it too. He’s happy to be carried by his big brother Megumi.”

Megumi’s cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t look away from Satoshi. “I just….. want him to be happy.” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “He’s happy because he’s surrounded by love.” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “And because he has the best siblings in the world caring for him.”

You smiled at him, so full of love.

“I love you, all of you, my love.”

Cerulean eyes looked at you, tenderly.

“I love you too, darling. So so much.”

epilogue

One afternoon, you found Satoru in the kitchen, attempting to bake cookies with Tsumiki. Flour dusted his hair and apron, and Tsumiki giggled as she helped mix the dough. The sight was a blend of chaotic mess and heartwarming sweetness.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you teased, leaning against the doorway with Satoshi nestled in your arms. The smell of burnt sugar was already wafting through the air, a clear indicator that things might not be going as planned.

Satoru flashed you a mischievous grin, his blue eyes sparkling with playful defiance. “I’m a man of many talents, darling. Baking just happens to be one of them.” He tried to flick flour at you, but it mostly ended up on Tsumiki, who erupted into fits of laughter.

“Yeah, sure.” you said, laughing as you shook your head. “I think you might need to add ‘kitchen disaster’ to your list of talents.”

Just then, Megumi walked in, drawn by the noise and commotion. He took one look at the flour-covered Satoru and the batter-splattered Tsumiki and rolled his eyes. 

“You’re making a mess.” he said dryly, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “We could just buy cookies from the local bakery.”

“Come on, Megumi!” Satoru called out, waving a dough-covered hand. “Join the fun! We’re making memories here!”

“Satoru–san’s right, Megumi!” Tsumiki says, giggling as she plays with the batter. “Come on!”

Megumi looks at you and you laugh, nodding. “Go on. It’s not that bad. If anything, we can clean it up. It’s okay.”

Reluctantly, Megumi sighed and pursed his lips. He slowly grabbed an apron  from the hook and joined in, his serious demeanor softening as he started to help. Slowly, the kitchen started to be filled with laughter and playful teasing, a symphony of familial love.

When the cookies finally came out of the oven, they were slightly burnt and oddly shaped. Satoru picked one up, examining it critically before taking a big bite. “Mmm, just like I remember from years ago.” he said with a straight face, making everyone laugh. “Didn’t you use to make us bake after missions?”

“Yes, but it did not look like that.” You smiled at him. “We could make new ones, if you want?”

“Yeah, let’s make one that’s digestible.” Megumi says as he started using the cookie cutters on his batter.

“Hey! They are perfectly digestible.”

“I don’t know, my love.” You tout as you looked at him teasingly, “It doesn’t seem to be good right now.”

“Oh just you wait, I’ll make another batch!” He says, almost determined to prove you wrong. “‘miki! Get more flour and butter! I’ll get the eggs!”

“I’m on it, Satoru–san!”

“Satoru, be careful, don’t run!”

“But I gotta get it done soon!”

“This isn’t masterchef, don’t rush!”

In the end, your husband made a more pleasant looking batter — but it was because you were making sure to watch everything as you cradled your little son in your arms. Megumi didn't need anything else but praise when it came to his cookies. They looked so round and perfectly golden. Tsumiki’s own batch was also pretty, she added pink sprinkles in her batter which made it more bright. 

When all the dishes were taken care of, the cookies were left to cool. Megumi prepared both of you a cup of black coffee, while Tsumiki plated the rest. Satoru whistled as he settled everything away where it belonged. 

"These cookies are... interesting," Megumi remarked, taking a hesitant bite.

Tsumiki giggled, nudging him playfully. "They're not that bad, Megumi. It's the thought that counts, right?"

Satoru leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. "Exactly! Besides, the company is what makes them taste good." He ruffled Megumi's hair, earning a good-natured eye roll from the boy.

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "I have to agree with Satoru on this one. Being together makes everything better."

Satoshi, sitting in his high chair with a cookie of his own, babbled happily, bits of cookie smeared around his mouth. His bright eyes sparkled with joy as he looked around at his family.

"Satoru-san, can we make more cookies tomorrow?" Tsumiki asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

Satoru chuckled, wiping a smudge of flour from his cheek. "We'll see, Tsumiki. Maybe we'll try making something else. How about a cake?"

"Yeah!" Tsumiki cheered happily with infectious excitement.

Megumi looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking up. "Can we make a chocolate cake?"

"Chocolate cake it is," you agreed, laughing at the enthusiasm of your children. "But maybe we should let Satoru handle the mixing next time."

Satoru feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Hey, I think I did a pretty good job! Next time, I'll show you all my true baking skills."

"Sure, sure," you teased, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "We'll hold you to that, Mr. Talented."

The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and lighthearted banter. As the evening wore on, you found yourself marveling at the simple joy of being together. The challenges and uncertainties of life seemed distant, overshadowed by the love and warmth of your family.

Later that night, as you tucked Tsumiki and Megumi into bed, they both looked up at you with sleepy smiles.

"Goodnight to you, Gen-san!" Tsumiki whispered, her eyes already drooping.

"Goodnight, sweetie," you replied, brushing a kiss on her forehead. "Sleep well."

Megumi gave you a small, shy look with a blush on his cheeks. "Thanks for the cookies..... And for everything."

Your heart swelled with love as you kissed his forehead too. "You're welcome, Megumi. Sweet dreams."

Back in your bedroom, you found Satoru already lying down, Satoshi nestled in his crib nearby. You slipped into bed beside him, feeling his arms wrap around you instantly.

"Thank you for today," you whispered, resting your head on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur in the darkness. "Thank you, too. For everything. I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world."

You smiled, closing your eyes as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Me neither. Together, we'll make every day special."

One night, as you lay in bed with Satoru beside you and Satoshi nestled in his crib, you whispered, “Thank you for being here, Satoru. For all of us.”

He turned to you, his eyes filled with love and a hint of mischief. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, darling. You and the children are my world.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Even if your cookies are terrible?”

He laughed softly, pulling you closer. “Even then. But don’t worry, I’ll keep practicing. One day, I’ll get it right.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you kissed him gently. “I’m sure you will. But until then, we’ll just enjoy the burnt ones together.”

Satoru chuckled, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Sounds like a plan, my darling.”

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet hum of your sleeping children and the gentle cadence of your husband’s heartbeat, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, your family would face them together. And with Satoru’s unwavering love and determination, you were certain that your home would always be filled with laughter, warmth, and the sweetest memories.

You wanted more of Gojo Satoru.

You wanted everything of him.

You wanted more of him in this life.

You can't hold enough of him, you think.

You can't hold enough of him in your hands.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk x oc #jujutsu kaisen x oc #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x oc #satoru gojo x you #satoru x you #satoru x oc #gojo x oc #gojo x you #satoru fluff #gojo fluff #gojo jjk #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #kayu writes ! ! !

[aptericia]

Commissions are open!

I'm currently opening 5 commission slots! All prices are in USD

You can DM me here, or through my payment platforms:

ko-fi: https://href.li/?https://ko-fi.com/aptericia19601 artistree: https://artistree.io/aptericia

***15% OFF COMMISSIONS FOR FANDOMS IN MY PINNED POST (Revolutionary Girl Utena, Fire Emblem 9/10 & 16/16W, Thunderbolt Fantasy, and Octopath Traveler)***

I will draw:

fanart

original characters

characters without visual reference (i.e. from a written description)

complex designs

mild blood/gore & body horror

I will not draw:

heavy gore

romantic or sexual acts

anything else that makes me uncomfortable

lineart-only style:

1/2 body: $20 full body: $30

flat color style:

1/2 body: $25 full body: $40

cel-shaded style:

bust: $30 1/2 body: $40 3/4 body: $50 full body: $60

fully-rendered style:

bust: $35 1/2 body: $50 3/4 body: $65 full body: $90

backgrounds:

transparent / flat color / simple graphic: $0 simple background: $5-$20 complex background: $20+

extra characters: +70% of listed price

What to expect:

Message me on tumblr, ko-fi, or Artistree for inquiry! Let me know what you’re looking for and I will confirm if I can draw it. Don’t worry if you don’t have all the details figured out—I’m happy to discuss with you! You do not need to provide references for characters who can easily found on the internet, however for OCs and characters from non-visual media, please provide me with descriptions or examples. Same goes for any specific poses, clothes, backgrounds, etc. you’d like me to include. Once we’ve settled on an idea, I’ll send a rough sketch and confirm the price. After I receive the payment, I’ll continue working and send you updates at various stages of the development (lineart, flat colors, etc). You may request changes at each of the stages (minor ones are free, however large or many changes will require an extra fee). When the last update is approved, I’ll send you the final version in high resolution. The amount of time a commission takes is highly dependent on the specifics, but most take under a week. If I expect your piece to take longer than that, I will let you know. By default, I will post the finished commission to all my socials and may use it to promote my services. If you would NOT like your commission to be used this way, please let me know.

Things you ARE allowed to do with your commissioned artwork:

post the artwork to social media

use the artwork for social media icons, banners, etc.

edit the artwork as you wish; however, if the edits obscure my signature then you must credit me

Things you are NOT allowed to do with your commissioned artwork:

claim the artwork as your own

sell or otherwise make profit off the artwork

input the artwork into generative AI programs

#my art #commissions open #art commissions #revolutionary girl utena #fire emblem #fire emblem path of radiance #fire emblem radiant dawn #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem three hopes #thunderbolt fantasy #octopath traveler #octopath traveler 2 #long post

[the-cabin-complex]

Hi! We're looking for some advice. We've known we're a system for a while now and a lot of us want to make some system friends online or join a discord server but the host is kind of... Idk, scared? about it or just shy. Any tips?

Honestly, people are a lot more chill than they seem. And if they’re not, they’re not for you.

It’s kind of like going to a cafe, you might only go there a couple times before deciding you don’t like the vibe, or the coffee tastes weird to you, or the band that plays there sometimes is just too loud for you. That’s totally okay! I can definitely give more in depth advice if you want it, but in general

Do no harm, take no shit, and keep this in mind ⬇️

[ID: a meme of the “if it sucks… hit da bricks!” running skeleton. Text in the meme reads:

Just walk out. You can leave!!! da share zone (partially cut off by edge of frame)

Doesn’t match needs

Hard to keep track of triggers list

Overwhelming

Not accessible

Too few people

Too many people

Discourse heavy

Too much drama

If you just feel uncomfortable

Literally you are not obligated to go anywhere on the internet and if anyone says differently, book it

If it sucks… hit da bricks!!! Real winners quit. /End ID]

—Tony

#none of the reasons listed are all encompassing and necessarily a reason to leave #it depends on what your needs are and what you’re looking for #but in general I figure this is an important part of curating who you interact with online #tony’s tag #asks

[orangerosebush]

I think one of the things that most helped me chill out and not worry about people behaving in ways I both do not understand and can’t control is finally leaving for college. Looking back, it’s no wonder I was so combative in this vaguely “hall monitor way” during high school. It sucks growing up in an environment where if you don’t know exactly how to tailor your behavior and hide parts of who you are, shit gets bad. I was constantly surveilling my own behavior so I didn’t get harassed by my dad (who also had no control over his life in the sense he was too depressed to hold down a job for long). Just a constant diet of meanness and cynicism for the brain. So when I see stuff online that’s a bunch of (unhappy) gay teens being shitty and policing each other over pointless community in-drama, I feel like that particular personal history I have is one of the biggest “it gets so much better for you one day, I promise, and a lot of the b.s. you’re going through right now is coming from other teens who are profoundly messed up in a similar way — though that doesn’t excuse it” I can offer.

[nikosheba]

A couple job interview hacks from someone who has to give a job interview every single goddamn day: (disclaimer: this goes for my process and my company’s process, other companies and industries might be different)

1. There are a few things I check and a few questions I ask literally just to figure out if you can play the game and get along with others in a professional setting. Part of the job I interview for is talking to people, and we work in teams. So if you can’t “play the game” a tiny bit, it’s not going to work. Playing the game includes:

- Why do you want to work here? (just prove that you googled the company, tell me like 1 thing about us, I just want to know that you did SOME kind of preparation for this interview)

- Are you wearing professional clothing? I don’t need a suit just don’t show up in a ratty t-shirt and sweatpants.

- Are you able to speak respectfully and without dropping f-bombs all the time? Not because I’m offended but because I don’t want to be reported to HR if you wind up on my team.

- Can you follow simple directions in an interview?

2. Stop telling me protected information. I don’t want to know about what drugs or medications you’re on, I don’t want to know about you being sick, I don’t want to know if you’re planning to have children soon, I don’t want to know anything about your personal life other than “can you do the job?” 

3. When we ask, “What questions do you have for me?” here are my favorites I’ve heard: - What does the day-to-day look like for a member of your team?

- If one of your team members was not performing up to his usual standard, what steps would you take to correct that?

- What can I start doing now to accelerate my learning process in this job?

- What are some reservations you have about me as a candidate? (be ready for this emotionally....it will REALLY help you in the future, and I’ve had people save themselves from a No after this, but can be hard to hear)

- In your opinion, what skills and qualities does the ideal candidate for this job possess?

- What advice would you give to a new hire in this position/someone who wanted to break into this industry, as someone who has worked here for a while?

Those are just my tips off-the-cuff. I work in sales in marketing/SAAS, so these can be very different depending on the industry, but I wish the people I interview could read this before they show up. 

[chososdiscordkitten]

Baby Fever?!

Synopsis: JJk men/reader have baby fever ≽^•⩊•^≼

Includes: 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 Content: afab!reader, topics of pregnancy, marriage, breeding, and having children. mostly nsfw (sorry anon) (a.n) Jesus my page has been full of baby fever nd marriage recently.

Dedicated to; this ask.

MDNI

Satoru Gojo

Ever since you first became official- Gojo had this little habit of asking to give you a baby. You always shook him off, telling him ‘no’ because it was far too soon and you were too young to start having children. 

Birth control became a necessity because of the little need he had to finish inside of you.

On one occasion of him asking the incessant question- you leaned in real close to his ear, “I will impregnate you.” you whispered.

This unlocked a whole other can of worms in Satoru’s mind. The urge to breed you was strong, but that little promise lit a fire in his soul. 

But one day, while out on a date- walking down an empty street, a child no older than 7 or 8 ran up to Satoru, Tears staining his cheeks and asking for his mom. 

Though you hardly saw Satoru interact with children in your daily life, you could see his demeanor change from a normal playful one to a more serious and authoritative one.

Crouching down to the child’s height and asking where he last saw his mom and his name—all with calm. 

You watched the little interaction unfold before you with wide eyes- the thought that Gojo was too immature to be a father completely being thrown from your mind as Satoru stood up straight and held the child’s hand in his. Guiding him back to where the child last saw his mom and reuniting the stressed mom and the crying child.

After that, more and more little instances Satoru did, made you start contemplating his little offer of giving you a child. 

Whenever you’d go shopping with him, you’d always pretend to accidentally stumble across the baby aisle.

Gojo perked a brow, watching your eyes admire the little socks attached to the onside in your hands. 

Corner of his lip curled up with a soft giggle, stepping over to you and whispering- “You’re actually considering having a kid?” he teased watching you furrow your eyebrows and hang the little onesie back on the rack. 

You shoved him with your elbow, scoffing and making a mental note to never bring this up again. 

That night, you were scrolling on your phone- watching any video that popped up of a chunky baby with a soft expression. 

Satoru was beside you, focused on his phone, but the sound of a child’s laughter made him look over at you with furrowed eyebrows- peeking over to your phone and watching the tiktok you were looking at. 

Some video of a mom showing their child’s massive hair bows- he was about to laugh at how silly the baby looked. Only he scanned your expression and got a hint as to why you hadn’t scrolled yet. 

Satoru rolled atop you, resting his head on your sternum and urging you to put your phone down. 

Holding his head in your hands- “I can give you a baby if you want one so bad~” he teased, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. 

Parting your lips with a soft gasp, “Satoru Gojo!” you feigned shock, whispering, “A child out of wedlock? What would the clan think?” you teased, mushing his cheeks together as he rolled his eyes. 

Pulling your hands from his cheeks and hoisting himself up- face to face as he placed a hand between your thighs, urging you to open them. 

Placing a kiss on your lips with a smile- “I am the clan.” he scoffed smugly. 

Toji Zenin

It all started with one little sentence he littered during intercourse, legs bent to your chest, and Toji pounding into you like his life depended on it. 

Something along the lines of, “Gonna breed this perfect pussy-” in a low husky tone. It was muttered- like his internal thoughts seeped from his lips without permission. 

But the words stayed in your mind- long after you had cleaned off his copious mess from your center. Even as Toji was snoring next to you- you stayed up thinking about the words he had muttered into the air. 

They made you squint thinking about the possibility of it. Questions you wish Toji was awake to ask him. 

Rare were the times he would sprinkle dirty talk during sex. But the way he said it, it wasn’t meant to be heard as dirty talk. The way it sounded was he spoke it as a proclamation. 

The next morning, when Toji woke up to your face pressed against his chest. Feeling your eyes watch him sleep, he woke up asking you what you needed. 

“You want to-” air caught in your throat, recalling what he said. “..breed me?” you whispered, looking at his hazy eyes and furrowed brow. 

Corner of his lip curled, “Where’d you get that idea?” he scoffed, closing his eyes and pretending not to feel your harsh gaze on his skin. 

“From you- you said it last night.”

Toji nodded ‘no’. As though the idea of him saying that was impossible. 

“Yes, you did- I heard you.” watching Toji’s smug face nod ‘no’ again. 

“You can’t gaslight me Toji- I heard you.” Your determination amused the man- feeling his chest rise in a half laugh against your cheek. 

Even a few days after- the thought lingered in your mind. Toji still refused to believe he said it- telling you that you were mistaken. 

And then Toji caught onto the feverlike smile you’d get on your cheeks whenever you’d see a baby in public. Smiling to himself as you pinched your eyebrows at the little humans. 

But there was this one time- on an elevator with a new mom and a baby in her hands. Toji noticed your staring as the woman struggled to reach into her purse, which caused it to fall and spill her belongings on the ground.

The woman sighed- looking down before peering her eyes back to you- “Could you?” she asked, holding out her baby to you- which you happily took and looked at Toji with the child in your arms. 

Toji swore his eye twitched as he watched you- happily bouncing the child in your arms before the woman reached her hands back to her child. 

After that, Toji started expressing his urgent need to breed you full of his children during intimacy- to which he still denied he said any of those things. 

“Whatever- as long as you don’t become a deadbeat again, I don’t care.” you scoffed, referring to his son he refused to talk about. 

Naoya Zenin

While he was dating you- Naoya took a lot of care in ensuring not to get you pregnant. “Children out of wedlock never result in anything good.” he would defend. He told you to start taking birth control- only you laughed in his face and said no.

That if he wanted to have safe sex- he would have to wear a condom. That you wouldn’t alter your body’s hormones just because he doesn’t wanna get you pregnant. And Naoya obliged. 

Midway through sex, pulling his ear down to your lips and telling him how much better it would feel without a condom- only for his eyes to shut tight- trying to keep his focus on not cumming, going as far as telling you to shut up. Multiple times, knowing if you didn’t, he might just listen to you.

Though you liked teasing him with the possibility. Asking if he didn’t want to see you barefoot and pregnant, waiting for him at home. Watching his neck pulse with a low gulp just thinking about it. 

In truth, you didn’t really want to get pregnant- Naoya had a point in the whole ‘marriage first, then kids.’ thing. You only liked watching his ears turn red and warm whenever you’d try and tempt him with having sex without a condom.

You didn’t think much of it- unknowing of the temptation brewing in Naoya’s mind with every waking day he didn’t marry you. 

Every time you whispered a temptation in his ear- the mental image of you waiting for him at home, swelled with his child and the future of his clan—Naoya was hanging on a very thin thread. 

And once he finally had the guts to ask you- it took very little time for the wedding to be planned. The thought of children was nowhere near your mind on the day. 

A small ceremony with his family, prancing you around like some trophy in front of the elders. 

And that night- Naoya held a gentle hand as he undid the little buttons of your wedding dress- carefully unwrapping you from the costly lace. 

You found it odd- sure. Naoya wasn’t usually the type to take things slow and gentle in this department. 

But when you looked at him, his hips between your knees with your back on the bed. Looking up at Naoya as he undid the buttons of his dress shirt- “We’re not stopping till you’re pregnant.” he huffed, tossing his shirt aside and easing himself onto the bed. 

Had you known your little temptations and offers of unprotected sex would cause his brain to rewire the idea of having kids- you still would’ve done it. Maybe with a little more tact though. 

Naoya no longer saw it as another responsibility of being head of the clan- he saw it as an opportunity to breed you again- and again. Till you were so full there was no other choice than to get pregnant. 

Suguru Geto

All it took was Suguru showing you pictures of him and the two girls he adopted when he left Jujutsu High and telling you countless stories behind the photos for you to look at him differently. 

You saw a certain change in the way you looked at him. No longer a father figure to two teenage girls, you saw him as an actual father. 

Mouthy and mean as those girls could be, you saw how gentle he was with them anyway. And you knew he could make a phenomenal father. 

You chose a tactless form of asking him. Sitting at the table eating breakfast- looking at his soft expression. 

“Would you be a dad again?” 

Suguru looked at you with furrowed eyebrows- “...Again?” unsure of when the first time he became a father was. 

You rolled your eyes, urging him to answer the question with a sigh. 

“Depends.” Geto murmured, looking back down to his phone and earning a kick from your socked foot. 

You scoffed, “On?” 

“If we are stable- money wise, and if the conditions are right.” he grinned, wondering where this topic came from. 

Your cheeks tingled in the slightest when he used ‘we’ to refer to becoming parents, answering another question you had. 

Suguru thought back to the question again, lightly raising his eyebrows at realizing what you were asking. 

“With…You?” 

You laughed- “No Suguru- with your next partner.” tone full of sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. 

“I would be open..?” he squinted, trying to gauge where you stood on this. Watching your face go unchanged at his response- wanting to hear the truth, not just something that he said catered to your opinion. “...To it?”

You grinned, “Suguru, this isn’t a trick question. Just answer honestly.” assuring him that this was a necessary conversation in a relationship. 

He gulped lightly, trying to shake away the worries of saying the wrong thing. Placing his phone on the table and looking at you with his hands between his knees. “I would love-” he grinned, cheeks blushed and avoidant of your gaze. “To have children with you.” 

You couldn’t help the shy little laugh that left your lips- “But we are a smidge too young- don’t you think?” you grinned, watching his head nod with a scoffing smile. 

“I did the teen dad thing- so maybe a little too young.” he joked- 

You nodded agreeingly, looking at him with love filled eyes- “We’ll wait till we are 40.” you grinned, watching his shoulders move in a small giggle. 

“Till 50- if we can.” 

Kento Nanami

You both had been toying with the idea of children. Small comments like, “Awe Ken-” looking at him with a soft smile. “You would be a wonderful dad.” whenever he talked about the fears of becoming a father. 

The talk of kids was spoken early in your relationship. Often were the times when the conversation of how many would come up a few minutes before bed. 

Playing with your hand in the dark, lying on your back with Nanami beside you. 

“How many?” You asked softly- hearing Nanami hum, close to falling asleep. 

A low exhale left his lips; “Two. Maybe three.” His voice husky from how close he was to falling asleep. But he was always happy to answer your questions- knowing they would keep you up if he didn’t answer. 

Rolling over onto your side and placing your head on his chest, “Twins?” you asked with a smile. Picturing the future with him as he put his hand onto your back.

Nanami let out a soft exhale with a smile. “Twins are a handful,” he spoke softly, his eyes daring to drift off to sleep as you caressed his torso.

You thought about it- remembering that you would have to carry them. “Okay. No twins.” 

Hearing his heartbeat against your ear as you thought of another question. 

“When?” 

Nanami gruffed a soft laugh, rubbing small circles on your back. “We’d have to be married first.” he mumbled. 

“Then wait a year or two.” his voice dwindling its tone as he eased into the exhaustion.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Why?” softly blinking your eyes. 

“A year of blissful marital life before children come into the picture.” Nanami spoke, half asleep, as the tiny part of his brain that filtered his words refused to work. 

You grinned, “You wanna marry me?” softly giggling against his chest.

Nanami sighed- pressing his hand onto your back a little firmer, holding you close. “I do. Dunno why I haven’t ask you yet.” his words breathy and bordering on sleeping. 

“Should get on that-” he exhaled, hearing his breathing ease into a heavier pattern against your ear.

After that, conversations about children only came up more and more. There was talk of names and if you’d move into a house instead of an apartment. 

Slowly your own baby fever stuck onto him- you sending tiktoks of the chunky babies you’d get on your fyp didn’t help either. 

The words “Practicing won’t hurt” were uttered whenever you mentioned the word breeding. All too thankful to the iud you had, knowing the apartment would be crawling with children if you didn’t have it. 

Hiromi Higuruma

When you started letting Hiromi cum inside- he kinda just assumed that you were on something. Never hesitating to give you what you asked him for. 

But Hiromi started getting the hints that you had a particular itch in your brain that only he could scratch. 

The topic came up when you joined him for lunch- sitting outside a sandwich shop and hearing Hiromi talk about a case debriefing after this. 

Too focused on telling you about it before he realized you had stopped listening. 

Eyes looking off to the side and your thumbs twiddling in your lap. 

“Honey?” he asked, looking in the direction you were looking and seeing a mother playing with her child. Snapping your gaze back to him- 

“Sorry.” Softly exhaling, “Sorry- you were saying?” 

Hiromi furrowed his eyebrows, watching your eyes glimmer with a nervous light. Reaching a hand out to yours, “What’s wrong?” he asked- all too intuitive at what the look on your face meant. 

“Nothing- it’s okay.” Squeezing his hand assuringly. 

Hiromi raised a brow- parting his lips about to speak only for you to interrupt him. 

“Do you want kids?” preferring to rip the bandaid off rather than ease into a conversation. 

He inhaled again- only for you to speak again. “With me. I mean.” 

The corners of his lips curled, almost in a teasing smile. 

Hiromi sighed, thinking about the question and looking down to his half-finished sandwich. 

“I’ve never been in a relationship serious enough for the talk of children to come up.” he grinned, leaving your question unanswered. 

“You’ve never thought about it?” holding his hand tightly. Scared that you were illusioning yourself into a future Hiromi didn’t want. 

Hiromi tilted his head- thinking about it.

“I think I do…?” 

You pursed your lips, unsatisfied with the half answer. And Hiromi let out a blushed scoff- “If wanting kids meant wanting them with you- i do.” he clarified. Earning for you to look at him with soft eyes and a wiggling pout. 

“You mean-?” you pouted, looking at him with a soft expression. 

His eyes widened at the sudden severity in your gaze, not knowing how much his confirmation meant to you. 

Raising his hand to your lips and pressing a light peck on his knuckles “Can we?” 

“...Now?” 

You scoffed, “No, not now.” with a soft smile.

Hiromi exhaled, thinking of having an actual child- “How ’bout we focus on getting married first?” 

Choso Kamo

Ever since the first time you had sex- Choso always finished inside, no patience nor ability to time his orgasm and pull out in time. 

Not recalling the repercussions of unprotected sex- nor really caring. 

And when the conversation of children came up- You insisted on giving him an army of children. “I think it’s what you deserve.” To which he looked at you as though something awakened in his mind when you said that. 

While on dates, he would see an overly large family struggling to keep the many children in check. He would look at you and remember what you had said. 

‘An army of children.’

Between the two of you- he caught babyfever first. 

Walking through a strip mall- looking for a new pair of shoes when you passed a baby store. 

Choso tugged your hand, looking at you eagerly and leading you into the store. “Just to look,” he said. 

Holding onto a tiny pair of shoes, looking at you, and presenting them in his palm. “Are these really meant to fit a child?” 

You let out a small giggle, nodding your head yes and watching him prattle around the store. 

Asking you questions- as though you had any more idea than he did. 

Watching your face uninterested in the window shopping he was doing- “You don’t want to have kids anymore?” furrowed eyebrows and determined to cut the window shopping if you didn’t. 

You grinned, “Of course I still want to have kids.” taking his hand and placing it on your tummy as though you were already pregnant. 

Eyes wide and cheeks pink as he rested his hand onto your tummy. “You gotta pump a baby in me first.” Smiling at the fact he was already looking for things for a child that hadn’t been conceived yet. 

His mind sparked the idea of watching you grow big with his child. Made his eye twitch knowing that if you acted on your promise. That image wouldn’t be just an idea in Choso’s mind. 

Marriage didn’t make a difference to him- only a meaningless piece of paper. Like a license, or a ssn number, or money. (he’s in denial)

So the next time you had intercourse- Choso accidentally overstimulated himself. Keeping your words of ‘Pump a baby in me.’ in mind as you allowed him to pump you full of potential children. 

You did say an army of them. And Choso was more than happy to assist in creating the small army. 

-

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭: play fighting with the jjk men!

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #kento nanami #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk toji #choso smut #choso jujutsu kaisen #choso x reader #jjk choso #toji fushiguro #geto x reader #naoya x reader #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi x reader #jjk x chubby reader #naoya zenin

[ceilidho]

prompt: construction worker ghost and his elementary school teacher neighbour who made the poor decision to start feeding him (nsfw, 2k) [based on this old ask] [on ao3 here]

-

They say not to feed wild animals. 

It makes them grow soft, lazy. Alters their behaviour. Takes an animal previously capable of finding its own food dependent on humans for sustenance. Makes them lose their natural fear of humans and nearly always results in an increase in human-wildlife conflicts as they start to seek out people. It’s a known fact. You can’t go to a park without seeing it plastered on posters in the bathroom and on the sides of the vending machines under the gazebos where you purchase your post-hike iced tea and veggie roll to eat on a nearby bench. 

You know this. So you really don’t know what possessed you to leave a cooler full of sandwiches on your neighbour’s doormat before turning in for the night. 

He wakes up preternaturally early and leaves every morning around four-thirty or five o’clock on the dot. Sometimes in the fog of sleep, you wake to hear the door to the apartment beside yours crack open and slam shut, and then the sound of lumbering footsteps down the hall towards the staircase before that door opens and slams shut too. 

He never comes home before four o’clock at the earliest. That’s around when you come home from work as well, meaning that you sometimes catch him at the door, him covered in grime and reeking of old sweat while you come flouncing down the hall in whatever colourful dress you’d donned that morning, inevitably paint-splattered by the end of the day. Always something appropriate to wear at an elementary school but colourful enough to keep the kids’ eyes and attention on you. 

You’ve caught his name in half-whispered conversations with the property manager, but aside from that, all you know about Simon Riley is that he works in construction. He certainly looks the part: big, calloused hands with blunt, dirt-caked nails and cut up fingers, knuckles always swollen and thick. Body all strength and brawn. Hard hat tucked under his armpit and decorated with countless stickers from old job sites, the same way his forearm is covered in tattoos. 

You’ve even passed by his current job site once or twice—some new condo complex going up by the canal that’s forced you and hundreds of other commuters to leave an extra thirty minutes early to account for the road closures. You pointedly don’t bring that up in conversation though. That would just be rude. 

At least it would be something to talk about though.

It’s not like the two of you talk. You’re not close by any means. Though you moved in a few months ago, you haven’t had much luck mustering up the confidence to squeak out more than a hi to him in passing. When he grunts back something approximating a hello, it’s all you can do not to break your key in the lock when you hurry into your apartment and slam the door shut behind you, heart beating frantically in your chest. 

It’s humiliating. You’re a grown woman and you’ve talked to plenty of men before. You’ve dated plenty of men before. Just because this one speaks in monosyllables and stares at you with an intensity that makes your stomach churn and your palms grow sweaty doesn’t change anything. Just because this one is built like a redwood with wrists thick enough that you’d need both hands to wrap around doesn’t make him any different than any other person.

And yet, when Simon asks you for your name on a rainy June afternoon after you’ve come in after him for a change only to find him sifting through letters at the mailbox, you garble out something that sounds nothing like your name before scurrying up the stairs to your flat.

It’s humiliating. It’s humid outside and your dress is sticking to all the wrong places (namely, your nipples and the inside of your thighs when the skirt swishes between your legs with each stride) and now you’ve made an ass of yourself in front of the only hot guy in your building. There are serial arsonists with more charm than you. 

So maybe the sandwiches are an apology letter or an olive branch. Or maybe it just makes your heart race to think of Simon opening up the cooler and finding four wax paper-wrapped sandwiches tucked neatly over ice packs. 

All you know is that when you step out of your apartment the next morning, the cooler is empty on your doormat, the lid propped open. He must have taken them with him. 

You smile. A job well done. Apology served fresh, with cucumber slices in the middle. 

The problem starts when you don’t leave him another cooler full of sandwiches on his doormat the next day. 

You didn’t consider that he might think you’d make it a habit. Perhaps that’s partially on you for not leaving a note on the cooler the first time to explain that it was just a one-off; just a way to apologize for being less than chipper around him. But instead of shrugging it off, you come home after a long day to find him standing right outside your apartment, arms crossed over his chest, thick biceps straining against his sweat-stained shirt. 

“Open the door,” Simon commands, nostrils flaring as he glares down at you. He jerks his head towards your door when you just frown, not following. “Been starving here waiting for you to show up.”

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. You’re at a loss for words, never mind that your whole job involves talking. He leaves you speechless though. 

Simon doesn’t move when you step close enough to unlock the door. You try to keep your body angled away so as not to brush up against him, but it’s inevitable. He doesn’t move when the door opens either, forcing you to squeeze by him. 

He goes straight to the kitchen and drags a chair out, letting it scrape across the floor like men always do before taking a seat. You follow after him nervously, apprehensive at having a man in your space. Not just a man, but Simon Riley. It feels sacrilege—not like he has no right being in your space, but you can’t imagine him here, sitting at your tiny dining room table like he comes over for dinner every Sunday. 

When he catches you standing under the archway to the kitchen just staring at him, he barks, “Well?”

That has you scurrying over to the fridge to pull out the cold cuts and pickled red onions. There’s a loaf of bread already on the counter, the bag twisted and tucked underneath because you had to leave in a rush this morning. You don’t know half of what you pile on the sandwiches, but whatever you serve him must satisfy him because Simon digs in with gusto, finishing the plate off in only a few bites while you wash the cutlery in the sink. You watch him out of the corner of your eye the whole while.

He leaves not too long after that, only a light warning for you to not miss tomorrow’s lunch before heading back over to his own apartment. You don’t even get a word in edgewise. 

It becomes something of a routine after that and not one you have any control over. Every night before bed, you leave him a cooler full of sandwiches and other things like cut up fruit or slices of cheese on his doormat, and every afternoon you rock up to him waiting on your doorstep, demanding to be let in. 

He takes to giving you a wet kiss before he leaves, all tongue and his fingers curled around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. When you try to cover his mouth with your hand, he nips at your fingers until you move them and let him slip you some tongue. 

The day you make him a casserole for supper, he bends you over the back of your couch and eats you out. Simon eats like a man starving, glutting himself on the wetness between your legs, licking even over the furl of your asshole and chuckling under his breath when you squeal and flail, your toes just brushing against the floor. 

In the aftermath, you sit panting in his lap while he eats. He gets up only briefly to get the bowl of strawberries and cream you left chilling in the fridge before lifting you up and putting you right back in his lap. You stare bleary-eyed when he holds a finger covered in cream up to your lips.

“Clean me up, pet,” he says, then watches you with half-lidded eyes while you lick his finger clean. 

He makes you suck his fingers too, to keep things even. He does it when you’re angled half off the bed, thick digits stuffed down your throat until your eyes leak big, fat tears that he licks away, hungry for those too. The man is always hungry, always keen to fill his belly. 

The arrangement continues on long enough to become normal, even routine. Simon shows up at your door every day after work waiting to be fed, and then makes you come a couple times before he leaves, a little thank you to repay you for the food. He never really says all that much when he comes around, not a conversationalist of a man. His preference is to eat, fuck, and leave, which you’re happy to accommodate, still too tongue-tied yourself to broach a real conversation. 

That’s all before he starts helping himself to your bed for a quick nap after a big supper. Then for naps that turn into a full night’s sleep, snoring like a chainsaw under the covers with you tucked under his arm, naked breasts pressed against his side, keeping you awake most of the night until you pass out somewhere around one A.M. 

Just as you suspected, Simon gets up at around four or five to be at the jobsite on time, but at your place, he gets up a bit earlier to help himself to breakfast. He doesn't even bother waking you up, just turns you over onto your tummy and spreads your legs before sinking his dick into where you're still stretched out from the night before. If you wake up or squirm, he just leans down and murmurs, “S'alright, pet…just need a pick me up before work. Go back to sleep, you’re okay,” and ruts between your thighs until he comes inside you and leaves you all wet in bed with one last messy kiss to your temple. 

The door slams shut on his way out. 

Because you feed him, he keeps coming back. The workday passes in a blur: attendance, a spelling test, recess, maths in the afternoon, and then you’re driving home in the same daze that has you slamming on the brakes before rear ending an old woman who stopped two cars behind the truck at the redlight ahead. 

You’re home earlier than him for a change, so you unlock the door quickly while there’s still a chance to avoid him. No such luck. When Simon turns up, he pounds on the door until you let him in. And you do. 

It’s a wonder you haven’t come apart at the seams, horny and pent up after this morning. You were too sleepy to come after all, rode hard and put away wet. Still, you flit nervously around the apartment, looking everywhere but at him. 

He always smells rich after working all day in the sun, like sweat and dirt. It's not a particularly nice smell, but it still kind of gets you going. He goes for a shower and then collapses on the couch after, beckoning you over to you crawl into his lap and grind yourself on his thigh because he knows of course. Simon can probably smell it on you, the ache. He shushes you when you whine about it, big hands fitting around your hips and pressing you down until your clit rubs deliciously against the muscle of his thigh and your head goes cloudy, cheek mushed against the pillow of his chest. 

When you come, Simon tips your chin up with his knuckle and murmurs, “Knickers off, love. Haven’t got my fill.”

He feeds you your own slick from his fingers when he kneels on the floor in front of the couch, your legs draped over his shoulders. Your fingers scratch helplessly over shorn blond hair, buzzed almost to the scalp. It’s prickly under your fingertips. 

Simon’s a messy eater. Your slick dribbles down his lips and glistens on his chin. It makes the blood roar under your skin, feverishly hot. 

“Please, Simon,” you whine, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “It hurts.”

You feel his lips quirk up against the folds of your pussy, the flat of his tongue running up the seam and flicking over your clit. He chuckles when your hips jerk. “Greedy aren’t you, pet? Didn’t even say thank you for getting on my knees.”

“You didn’t make me come!”

His voice borders on mocking when he coos, “Poor little thing. It’s gonna be a lot longer ‘til she gets to come if you don’t say thank you.”

Your brain goes staticy, fingers twitching on his scalp. His words echo back in your head. It’s rubbish, is what it is. All this time and he’s never said thank you once for the countless meals you’ve fed him. Indignation bubbles up in you, rising to the surface like fat on the cream, and you raise a hand to rub the tears from your eyes, a harsh rebuke on the tip of your tongue.

The protest dies on your lips when he meets your gaze. It’s hungrier than anything you’ve ever seen. Whatever animal lives under his skin stares back at you with black eyes, drool leaking from its jowls. It’s mindless, intent only on slaking its hunger. Filling its empty belly. And it is not afraid of you anymore. It knows you’ll feed it until it’s full. It knows you won’t let it go hungry anymore. 

So, always leery of the bigger animal in the room, you mumble out a chest-thick, “Thank you,” and shiver when he grins. 

There’s a reason they tell you not to feed strays. They often come back for more.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley/reader