#And now it will always be too late for me to say anything

[littlelamy]

thinking about rafe being more involved with sarahs life after the baby and spending time with them and taking the kid to school or maybe picking the kid up and seeing reader who is a teacher and they flirt or maybe it’s parent teacher conference and rafe tags along with john b bc Sarah can’t make it and him and reader are cute and flirting

the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, painting golden streaks across the desks and scattering soft shadows on the floor. it was quiet now, the hum of kids long gone except for a few stray drawings left forgotten on tables and the faint creak of your chair as you leaned back, scanning through a pile of spelling tests.

the knock on your classroom door startled you, pulling you out of the mundane rhythm of grading. when you looked up, you expected john b, who had mentioned he’d be dropping by for the parent-teacher conference. instead, you saw him. rafe cameron.

rafe leaned casually against the doorframe, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans, the other gripping the strap of a sleek leather backpack. his usual cocky smirk softened into something more polite, almost uncertain, as his eyes swept the room before landing on you.

“hey,” he said, his voice low and warm, like he wasn’t entirely sure he belonged here but was trying anyway.

“hi,” you managed, your surprise fading into curiosity. “can i help you?”

“i… uh, i’m here for the conference,” he explained, stepping further into the room. “sarah couldn’t make it, and john b roped me into tagging along.”

you blinked, trying to reconcile the guy who had a reputation for being a little too reckless, a little too intense, with the man standing in front of you. “oh. yeah, of course. take a seat. john b should be here any minute.”

rafe nodded, sliding into one of the kid-sized chairs with an amused grin. “man, these chairs are tiny. no wonder kids are always squirming.”

you laughed, the sound light and unexpected. “yeah, they’re not exactly built for comfort. you’ll survive, though.”

he raised an eyebrow, leaning his elbows on the desk as he looked at you. “is that a challenge?”

before you could respond, the door swung open, and john b burst in, his usual whirlwind energy filling the room. “hey, sorry i’m late,” he said, dropping into a chair beside rafe without missing a beat. “traffic was insane.”

“it’s fine,” you assured him, pulling out the folder with their child’s name neatly printed across the front. “shall we get started?”

the conference itself was straightforward, mostly you going over their daughter’s progress, showing off some of her artwork, and sharing notes about her strengths and areas for growth. but every now and then, you felt rafe’s gaze on you, steady and curious, like he was trying to figure you out.

when the meeting wrapped up, john b stood, stretching. “thanks for taking the time. sarah’ll be thrilled to hear everything’s going so well.”

“of course,” you said, offering him a warm smile. “she’s a great kid. makes my job easy.”

john b nodded, then glanced at rafe. “you coming?”

rafe hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. “uh, i’ll catch up. i just have a quick question.”

john b smirked, like he knew exactly what was going on, but didn’t say anything as he left, leaving you and rafe alone.

“so, a quick question?” you prompted, arching an eyebrow.

he grinned, leaning back in his tiny chair. “yeah, just wanted to ask if you’ve always been this good with kids, or if it’s something you picked up over time.”

you tilted your head, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “a little of both, i guess. i’ve always liked working with them. they’re honest, you know? no filter. keeps things interesting.”

he nodded, his expression thoughtful. “yeah, i can see that. you’re… you’re really good at it. i mean, i could barely survive babysitting her for an afternoon, and you do this every day.”

you laughed, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks. “it’s definitely not easy, but it’s worth it.”

there was a pause, the kind that felt like it held something unsaid, and then rafe stood, towering over the kid-sized desk. “anyway, i should let you go. but… maybe i’ll see you around?”

“maybe,” you said, your smile lingering as he made his way to the door.

but before he left, he glanced back, his smirk returning. “or, you know, if you ever need a break from grading papers, i’d be happy to grab a coffee or something. on me.”

you raised an eyebrow, fighting the grin tugging at your lips. “i’ll think about it, cameron.”

he chuckled, giving you a small salute before disappearing into the hallway, leaving you alone in the golden light of the classroom, your heart fluttering in a way you hadn’t expected.

lamy's notes: i wouldn't mind doing more fics about rafe x teacher!reader! i hope you liked it!!

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesbabygirlx

[dollesung]

FEMME FATALE .ᐟ

PAIRING. jungwon x fem reader GENRE. nsfw REQUESTED? yes. WORD COUNT. 1.7k. SYNOPSIS. after a girls day out with your friends, you show your boyfriend, jungwon, your newest set of nails. let's just say he's more than a fan. WARNINGS. sub jungwon. dom reader. reader also yaps a lot. profanities. handjob. dirty talk. jungwon thinking with his penis and his penis only. (lmao). minors do not interact.

NOTE. i wrote this at the hospital semi-drugged on some strong-ass painkillers. i shouldn’t be held responsible for whatever the fuck i wrote but i will be (i’m jk, not about the hospital and the drugs tho.)

Jungwon was waiting by the couch when you got home.

Arm perched by the backrest, with a late-night show illuminating on the TV. Jungwon was nearly half-asleep, as he blankly stared at the screen, but his face lightened at the sight of your figure entering your shared-apartment.

You had an exhausting, but exciting day out with your girl friends. You spent a lot of hours shopping for clothes and bags, as well as pampering yourself with an entire session at a spa and salon.

You deserved it after tiring your back out at work for months now, project after project piling themselves at your desk. Jungwon, of course, your ever-loving boyfriend who could never resist you, absolutely agreed that you needed some time off and supported your endevour.

“Baby, you’re home,” speaking of, Jungwon greets you as you walk in the door, with a multiple array of shopping bags in both hands. “Let me help you with those.”

You give him a grin, handing over half of the bags and letting Jungwon place them on the sofa. He grabs the remote from the coffee table by the TV and shuts it off, wanting to focus entiret on you. (Not that he cared much about that show, anyway.)

Jungwon sets some of your bags down on the floor, leaving a bit of space for the two of you to sit.

“So,” he begins. “How was your day?”

MORE UNDER THE CUT.

“Oh, it was fantastic,” you gush, repositioning yourself to face your boyfriend. “The girls and I spent waaaay too much cash on this one spa but it was kinda worth it because I’ve never felt so relaxed—“

You begin to tell him loads of anecdotes about your day, the stuff you bought, the stores you went into, and without question, Jungwon listened quietly, resting his elbow against the couch and his head against his hand. He let you go on for a few minutes, wanting to hear everything about your day.

“—then, after that, we went to a Dior store, I bought you a perfume, but thankfully they didn’t have the shoes I wanted in my size because I was sure I was going broke already, and oh—!” You stop mid-rant, suddenly remembering something you had in mind earlier today.

“Yes?” Jungwon pried you to continue.

“I got my nails done!” You exclaimed, excited. “You wanna see them?”

“Of course, baby,” Jungwon responded with interest.

You squealed in delight, excited to show the man your new set. You always loved getting your nails done, but in the last couple of months, you were unable to get them fixed due to work.

“Okay, close your eyes,” you instructed, and Jungwon obliged. You placed your hands, palms down in front of his face and told him to look. “Open them.”

Jungwon eyes fluttered open as you told him to, and he was immediately greeted with the image of both of your hands.

“Tada!” You giggled. “I got them in your favorite color!”

The nails, colored both blue and black with a chromatic finish, shined as Jungwon eyed them, with a hand on your wrist so he could get a better look.

“These are really pretty—“ Jungwon notes, feeling his mouth go a little dry. “And long…”

You give the man a frown. “Do you not like them?”

“No—!” He exclaims, giving you an eager look. “I love them! They’re pretty.. I’ve just.. never seen you go for long nails before.”

Not knowing what to say, you keep quiet, watching as Jungwon continues to examine your nails like he’s never seen anything like it before.

You begin to notice a subtle flush of color in his cheeks, as well as the sudden change in his demeanor. His eyes flick between your face and your hands, and you notice him swallow, before licking his lips.

Then, your eyes flick down, towards his lap.

“Oh,” you vocalize, eyebrows raised and lips curling into a smirk. “Really, Wonnie?”

There was an evident print of his bulge against his shorts, which you swore wasn’t there before, given the fact that he’s been staring at your hands a little longer than an average person would, and his earlier expressions, the puzzle pieces click in your head.

Jungwon seems to have noticed your realization, as he makes a move to pull away and hide. “S-Sorry–!”

You grab the man by the wrist, lithe fingers wrapping themselves around the limb. You can almost feel his pulse quickening. “Don’t hide, baby.”

His face is flushed red, and he’s attempting to look away from you, possibly ashamed. You reach out with your other hand, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look you in the eye. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you comfort. “It’s okay.”

“I-I don’t know why…” He attempts.

“There’s no need to explain, love,” you give him a comforting smile. “C’mere.”

You pull him forward gently, allowing him to settle on your lap. You place a hand on his hip, while your other hand starts to brush up against his leg, leaving feather-like touches from his waist, down to his thigh, to his knees. 

Jungwon’s breath hitches, eyes locked on your hands, watching your every move. Then, after fiddling with the hem of Jungwon’s shorts, you press your palm against his bulge, cupping his half-hard cock against his shorts.

“Ah, n-noona,” Jungwon moans. “Y-Your hand…”

“Want me to stop?” You ask, watching Jungwon’s face for any signs of discomfort.

Instead, Jungwon fervently shakes his head, urging you to continue. You press your hand against him a little harder, eliciting a moan from the other. He throws his head back a little, his hands grabbing your shoulders for support.

Jungwon’s hips produce the tiniest bit of movement, and you’re not even sure if he’s aware he’s done it, but you urge him on, gripping his hip with your other hand and letting him grind against you.

“Fuck,” he curses, already looking breathless as he continues to grind on your hand. “Please?”

“Please what?” You look up at the boy, drunk on the image of him absolutely flushed and panting on your lap. “Let noona know what you want.”

Jungwon gasps, hands clenching against your shoulders. “Y-Your hand, please?”

A small part of you wants to continue teasing him, wants to see how far he can beg just for your hand alone, but you decide to take pity on the boy. You push him off your lap and instruct him to take his shorts and boxers off. 

Drunk on his own arousal, Jungwon follows as instructed, tugging the articles of clothing off of himself and unto the floor. Then, you tell him to turn around and sit back on your lap, right after you lean against the arm of the couch. 

Jungwon hesitantly takes his spot back on your lap, and you pull him close, his back flush against your chest. You start to press open-mouthed kisses against the expanse of his neck, relishing at the way the boy shivers at each one.

“Please, ah– stop teasing me,” Jungwon voices, hands placed on each of your knee.

You let out an entertained chuckle, letting your hands wander under Jungwon’s shirt. “You’re not exactly in the right position to be making demands, baby.”

Jungwon didn’t respond and remained quiet, whimpering as your fingers brushed against his nipples, before trailing back down to his legs. You watched in amusement as goosebumps appeared against his skin when you rake your nails ever so lightly against his inner thighs.

Your take a glance at the appendage between his legs, his cock, now hard as a rock, stood between his thighs, looking a little closer, you can almost see the precum pooling from the tip.

You laugh, amused. “You’re so fucking hard, huh?”

Jungwon doesn’t respond, embarrassed at the entire situation, eyes closed shut to avoid both looking at you and at his own arousal. 

“This what you wanted, Wonnie?” You ask rhetorically, before slowly wrapping your fingers around his cock.

“S-Shit,” he curses under his breath.

“Answer me,” you order, giving his cock a rough squeeze.

“Fuck, yes–!” He yelps, panting against your chest. 

“Good boy,” you whisper in his ear with a smirk, before starting a slow pace, stroking his cock with your hand.

“Oh, god,” Jungwon moans, hand loosely holding onto your wrist, as if he was bracing himself. 

You take a minute, stroking his cock at this pace, after a while, you decide to speed things up, focusing on the base of his cock. 

“O-Oh, noona–!” Jungwon’s moans only grow in volume, throwing his head back, against your shoulder. He’s starting to thrash on your lap, legs shaking and eyes closing from the sensation.

“Feels good, hm?” You taunt the boy on your lap, drunk on every moan he lets out. “Feel good, acting like a slut on my lap, Wonnie?”

The boy practically squeals, shaking his head, as if to deny your claim. “N-Not a– shit!”

You didn’t let him finish, the pace of your hand picking up speed as you continued to jerk him off. His thighs begin to shake, threatening to close on your wrists, but your legs keep him from doing so, trapping his legs between yours.

“Look at this fucking cock,” you taunt, giving the organ an experimental squeeze. “Fuckin’ leaking all over my hand.”

Jungwon whines, both hands now gripping your wrist. You’re not sure if he’s attempting to push you off or urging you to continue. ‘’m suh– sorry!”

You take Jungwon’s chin with your other hand, forcing him to look down. “This what you wanted, Wonnie? My hand around your cock, hm?”

He’s nodding so aggressively, eyes locked on his cock, as if he was hypnotized at the sight of your hand– or more importantly, at the sight of your nails, wrapped around his dick.

“Please, n-noona–!” He’s whining, back nearly arching against your chest as you continued your assault on his cock. “I-I’m, ungh, c-close!”

“Want you to cum, baby,” you mouth against Jungwon’s ear. “Cum all over noona’s hand, baby.”

It takes only four strokes before Jungwon was cumming all over your lap. His back arched and head thrown back, eyes shut and mouth open in a silent scream. After a moment, he wilts and nearly collapses against your chest.

As you maneuver him off your lap and onto the couch, you grab a tissue from the coffee table to clean the both of you up. Jungwon is still catching his breath by the arm of the couch after you finish.

“So,” you start. “I’m definitely going back to that nail salon.”

Jungwon chucks a pillow over your head in retaliation.

NOTE. ngl, can't remember writing that ending so idk why it sucks so much.

© dollesung 2025

[puppy4vi]

Jealous Caitlyn and Reader :3

not writing for vi feels wrong lol but it was 3 am and I had a vision ^.^

cw: sexual themes but not super explicit (maybe part two will just be smut if u guys like it..) possessive / toxic Caitlyn, blegh proofreading

Caitlyn doesn’t like seeing you talk to other women, whether it’s to be friendly or not. She doesn’t see a point in you talking to others - she always gives you the attention you deserve, spoils you to your hearts content, and makes sure you are happy, so why do you need other women?

She wanted to be a good girlfriend, treating you to dine at a fancy restaurant as a reward for being so good for her lately. you’re usually on your best behavior for her, it’s the most you can do for your girlfriend who spoils you rotten - though, when one of the waitresses start showing slight interest in you - it causes Caitlyn to raise an eyebrow.

Caitlyn’s hand slides up your thigh at the booth the waitress seated you two in , she lightly taps your inner thigh to get your attention.

She whispers into your ear;

“Did you see how she was looking at you?”

You laugh and roll your eyes. You knew Caitlyn was the jealous type, but you felt like she was over-exaggerating this situation in particular. “Caitlyn, she works here. Do you want her to be rude to m-“ Caitlyn was quick to cut you off.

“I never said that, I just think it’s unnecessary to start a conversation with you when I’m right here. I’m more than capable to answer her myself.”

You just slightly shake your head at her words, which caused her to groan in annoyance. She didn’t like when you didn’t listen to her, especially when she knew she was right (and she always was).

“We’ll see who’s right later on.” Caitlyn whispered into your ear - lightly squeezing your thigh before pulling away. Even though you thought her jealousy was unjustified, you can’t help but feel a slight attraction towards it. The way she wasn’t afraid to tell you what’s on her mind and was so certain to stake her claim onto you made you flustered.

The waitress from earlier returns with refreshments. Before you could say thank you, Caitlyn made sure to cut you off before you could even muster a word. She thanked the waitress in a monotone voice, trying to get her to leave as quick as possible to have you to herself.

Caitlyn spots the waitress slightly ogling you before she left their table, and it just made her eye twitch. She wanted to leave the restaurant right now - to mark you up just to bring you back here - to flaunt her marks she freshly made on you to everyone who works here, but she already drove all the way here. Mind as well get food before you and her even plan on leaving officially.

Caitlyn eyes your short frame as you drink your beverage. She loved how much smaller you were than her, how easy it was to mark you up whenever she wanted. She wished she could get her mind out of the gutter, but when she thinks of any woman ogling you, she can’t help but admire what she makes sure they’ll forever miss out on.

The waitress came back shortly to take their main course order. You clear you throat before speaking;

“ Can I have the-“

“Honey, just whisper your order to me. I’ll say it for you.”

You were going to complain, you really were- but her forceful smile kind of intimidated you (and turnt you on), so you obeyed her command, and she spoke to the waitress afterwards.

“We’ll have the cooked black cod with lobster ravioli please. Apologies for the possible confusion earlier.”

the waitress nods as she writes the order down and smiles

“oh don’t worry if I had cute girl like her around, I’d be a bit protective too” the waitress giggles as she looked at you. It seemed more like playful banter to you if anything -

But oh, did Caitlyn like that. Caitlyn’s blood was practically boiling at the sight of this girl trying to steal you away from her. She wasn’t going to have it. She was about to bad mouth the waitress, though you (thankfully) cut her off.

“Thank you, that’ll be all” you gave the waitress a soft smile before she left the table, but that just made Caitlyn more infuriated. She couldn’t stand this anymore, or just witness this happen without doing anything to her, or you.

“I’m going to have a talk with her” Caitlyn didn’t even eye you as she gets ready to walk over, you grabbed her arm with both of your hands. You didn’t underestimate her strength - she could push you off of her with ease, but you had to try something.

“Caitlyn don’t do anything stupid”

“Everything I do is far from that.”

“Please.”

Caitlyn turnt her head to look at you - pleading for her to not do anything irrational. The mixture of jealousy and arousal running through her body was almost unbearable- she shrugged and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Either I go and take care of that waitress that clearly has a thing for you, or drag you out of this restaurant and have my way with you? Which one will it be?”

Your eyes widen at Caitlyn’s words. You knew how strong Caitlyn was - and how dedicated she is when she’s set on something which can end up ugly. You nod your head yes.

“Okay”

She tries to hold in the grin that’s threatening to slip out onto her face;

“Okay, what? You have to be more specific”

You look up at her. Your doe eyes captivating her as you finally say the words she’s been wanting to hear ;

“I’ll let you have your way with me”

She doesn’t waste any time after that, grabbing you by the arm - making sure to dig her nails into you to leave a mark for later. Caitlyn drags you out of the restaurant and takes you into her car. Once you two get in - she doesn’t bother to talk to you at all - just ready to take you home and play with your body for hours. The car ride is filled with silence and unspoken tension.

Once you two arrive to your shared home - Caitlyn turns to sustain eye contact with you, telling you it’s time to get out of this car before she doesn’t even bother walking into that house.

You both get out of the car and Caitlyn walks over to grab your wrist - leaving her signature painful grip as always. She drags you through the house and straight into her spacious bedroom. Caitlyn doesn’t even bother to close her door and starts to play with the edge of your skirt with one hand, and unbuckling her belt with the other.

“You liked the attention she was giving you, huh? You like seeing me get like this”

“Caitlyn no- I-“

“Save it.”

She successfully takes her belt off and bends you over her legs - sitting on the bed as she pulls your tiny skirt up.

“Gonna bruise your body up so no one will be able to look at you without seeing my mark.”

She teasingly rubs the belt against your butt. You can’t help but shiver at the cold metal against you. She tauntingly laughs at you.

“Should I spank you until you cry, princess?”

[gf2bellamy]

hi loveee i have a new request for uuuu

another rlly simple and cute one where spencer just loves head scratches (no this is totally not based on me……) and he somehow exposes that to the whole team and it’s just some rlly cute thing (bonus points if they’re on the jet and at the end after all the teasing he just lays his head on reader’s lap and gets head scratches)

you can decide whether it’s pre or secret relationship :D

danke schön

- 🐚

headscratches — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of a case, just a tiny bit ( very tiny bit ) of angst, secret relationship a/n: hiiiiii 🐚 ! i totally get u i love head scratches too - thank you for ur request i hope you like this <3<3<3

Your exhausted feet carried you up the steps of the BAU jet, every muscle in your body aching from the long case. It had been a grueling few days—little sleep, too much stress, and way too many hours spent chasing down leads. But at least it was over now. The case was closed, and you could finally breathe. 

Thankfully, your wonderful boyfriend had taken it upon himself to carry your bag, saving you from having to drag it up the stairs yourself. You barely managed to collapse into one of the plush seats by the window before Spencer stowed your things away and settled in beside you. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, turning your head to look at him. 

Spencer gave you a small, knowing smile, his eyes softening as he nodded. “Of course.” 

The two of you were alone on the jet, at least for now. The rest of the team was still wrapping things up , which meant you had a few rare, stolen moments of privacy. It was a relief—not just because you could finally let your guard down, but because no one on the team knew about your relationship.

Keeping things under wraps was tricky, especially when you worked together every day, but moments like this made it worth it. 

As the jet’s engines hummed to life beneath you, Spencer leaned into you slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours. He always did that when you were alone, like some part of him just naturally gravitated toward you when there was no one around to notice. 

Without thinking, you turned to your side reaching up and gently brushing a few strands of hair from his face.

His hair was always a little unruly after a long case, messy curls falling into his eyes, and you had developed a habit of fixing it for him. 

He let out a quiet breath at your touch, his eyelids fluttering slightly as he relaxed against you. 

“You okay?” you asked, your voice softer now, laced with quiet concern.

Spencer gave a small nod, offering you a gentle smile. “I’m okay,” he murmured. Then, tilting his head slightly, he asked, “Are you?”

You nodded, and before you could say anything else, his hand found your knee, his touch light and reassuring as his fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns.

But the moment didn’t last long.

The familiar voices of your team filled the jet, breaking the quiet, and as soon as Spencer registered their presence, his hand slipped away.

Like it had never been there at all.

Spencer immediately reached for his satchel, pulling out a book as if he had been reading the entire time. You turned your gaze toward the window, pretending to be lost in thought.

It wasn’t long before Emily and Derek flopped into the seats across from you.

“I can’t wait to get home to Sergio,” Emily sighed, stretching out in her seat. 

Derek chuckled. “That cat��s got you wrapped around his little paw.” 

You turned toward her, curiosity piqued. “How is he?” 

Emily waved a hand. “Same as always. Demanding, dramatic, and somehow convinced he’s royalty.” She rolled her eyes fondly before adding, “Lately, he’s been obsessed with head scratches. I swear, if I even walk past the couch, he flops over immediately demanding them." 

You laughed. “Sounds about right for a cat.” 

Emily shook her head. “I don’t get it. What’s so great about them? He acts like it’s the greatest thing in the world.” 

Before you could reply, Spencer, who had been silent up until now, lowered his book to his lap and spoke without hesitation. 

“Head scratches are scientifically proven to reduce stress and increase oxytocin levels,” he stated matter-of-factly. “The repetitive motion stimulates nerve endings in the scalp, which can trigger a relaxation response. It’s also associated with bonding, which is why many social animals, including humans, find it soothing. It's quite comforting.” 

It took a second for the weight of his words to register. 

Then, as if on cue, all three of you turned to look at him. 

Spencer blinked, his lips parting slightly as he realized his mistake. His book was still open in his lap, but he suddenly seemed much more interested in the stitching of the pages than the words on them. 

Derek’s grin spread slow and wide. “Wait a minute…” 

Emily gasped. “Oh my god.” 

You barely held back a smile, eyes locked on Spencer as the tips of his ears turned a shade of pink. He opened his mouth, probably to backpedal, but it was already too late. 

Derek leaned forward, resting his arms on the table infront of him as he grinned. “Are you telling me you like head scratches, pretty boy?” 

Spencer quickly looked down, flipping a page in his book despite very clearly not reading it. “I was simply stating a scientific fact.” 

Emily wasn’t letting it go. “Oh no, no, no. That was way too specific.” 

Derek laughed loudly, leaning forward with a wicked grin as he reached out and ruffled Spencer’s curls. 

Spencer immediately jerked back, his entire body tensing as he shot Derek a horrified glare. He hastily smoothed down his hair, his blush deepening. 

Derek, of course, looked way too pleased with himself. “Oh, come on, I had to test the theory,” he teased, shaking his head. “And judging by that reaction, I’d say someone is pretty damn picky about where his head scratches come from.” 

Emily laughed, clearly entertained by the discovery. “Seems like he doesn’t like it when you do it,” she pointed out, eyes flicking between the two of them with amusement. 

Derek leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah, I noticed. Interesting.” 

Spencer huffed, flipping a page in his book with a little too much force. “It’s not that interesting,” he muttered, keeping his gaze stubbornly locked on the text. 

You smiled to yourself at Spencer’s embarrassed form, watching the way he kept his head down, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the book in his lap. You knew better, of course. 

You knew Spencer liked head scratches—most of your evenings together looked exactly like that. Him stretched across the couch, head resting in your lap, curls slipping through your fingers as he read.

Emily, still watching you, narrowed her eyes slightly before shifting her gaze to Derek. The two of them exchanged a look—one of those silent conversations that meant absolutely nothing good. 

“Spencer Reid,” Emily drawled, her grin widening, “do you only like head scratches coming from certain people?” 

Spencer slowly looked up from his book, suspicion evident in the way he narrowed his eyes. “What?” 

Derek smirked. “You heard Prentiss.” He leaned forward. “Do you only like head scratches when they’re from her?” 

You turned toward them, blinking. Wait, what? 

It was a known fact that the two of you were close. If someone was looking for Spencer, they usually found him with you. If you were missing from the bullpen, Spencer always knew exactly where you were. And everyone on the team knew he wasn’t a particularly touchy person—except with you. 

What they didn’t know was why. 

What they didn’t know was that this wasn’t just friendship. 

That the late-night conversations, the lingering looks, the small, stolen touches all meant something more. 

That you weren’t just his best friend. 

You were his. 

And now, you were all sitting on the jet, the team watching way too closely, Spencer’s ears burning bright red as Derek and Emily smirked. 

Spencer cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “That’s—” He hesitated, eyes flickering to you for just a second before looking back at his book. “That’s not relevant.” 

Emily gasped. 

“Oh my god,” she whispered, turning to Derek, “that was not a denial.” 

Derek grinned. “Nope, not at all.” 

Spencer groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is ridiculous.” 

You pressed your lips together, trying so hard not to laugh. 

Emily tilted her head, eyes gleaming with mischief. “So, hypothetically, if someone else did it…” 

Spencer shot her a sharp glare. “Hypothetically, they wouldn’t.” 

Derek laughed, pointing at him. “Oh yeah. That’s so an exclusive privilege.” He turned to you, grinning. “Man, you must be special.” 

You shrugged, playing it cool despite the warmth creeping up your neck. “I guess I just have the magic touch.” 

Spencer exhaled sharply, closing his book with a thud. He turned to you, eyes soft but exasperated. “Are you enjoying this?” 

"Maybe." You shrugged your shoulders as you gave him a teasing smile.

Spencer shook his head, feigning disappointment—but you knew better. He was never disappointed in you.

You smiled softly, and out of habit, reached up to brush his hair out of his face. His eyes flickered shut for a moment, just barely, before reopening with a look that was almost a warning.

A silent, don’t push your luck. 

But you were in the mood to tease. 

To your luck, Derek was already slipping his headphones on, and Emily had her eyes closed, arms crossed as she settled into her seat. The hum of the jet filled the space, covering the small shuffle of movement as you let your fingers slip back into Spencer’s curls. 

His breath hitched, and you felt him tense—just for a second—before melting like he always did. 

You bit back a grin as your nails gently scratched against his scalp, moving in slow, soothing circles. 

Spencer exhaled, the tension in his shoulders draining as his eyes fluttered shut again. His grip on his book loosened slightly. 

You loved how easy it was, how little effort it took to make him relax. 

His head dipped slightly, unconsciously leaning into your touch, and you took the opportunity to gently guide him down. Your hand pressed lightly to the back of his head, tilting him so that his cheek brushed against your shoulder. 

For a moment, he resisted—a small, fleeting moment of hesitation—before giving in entirely. 

You kept scratching lightly, feeling the way his body settled beside you, warm and familiar. Your fingers threaded through his curls, slow and deliberate, as he let out the softest sigh. 

You smiled, pressing your cheek lightly against the top of his head. 

Spencer Reid, the most brilliant mind you had ever known, was undone by something as simple as your fingers in his hair. 

And you loved it. 

Your eyes drifted shut, fingers still moving in slow, rhythmic motions through Spencer’s hair. His soft curls tickled your cheek as you rested your head against his.

What you didn’t notice? 

The way Derek and Emily were now watching the two of you like hawks. 

Derek, one side of the headphone pushed back , slowly raised an eyebrow as he exchanged a look with Emily. She barely suppressed a grin, tilting her head slightly, as if to say, Are you seeing this? 

Oh, he was definitely seeing this. 

They had their theories, of course. The team had always suspected there was more to you and Spencer than just friendship. It was the little things—the way he only let you touch him so easily, the way you always knew how to get him out of his head when no one else could, the way he looked at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky. 

And now? 

Now, with Spencer completely nestled against you, his head tucked against your shoulder, your fingers threading through his curls that could only come from familiarity? 

Yeah. Their theories had just been confirmed. 

Derek smirked, leaning closer to Emily. “Told you.” 

Emily scoffed, but the amusement in her eyes was unmistakable. “You didn’t tell me anything, Morgan. We both knew.” 

Derek chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “Man, they really thought they were being sneaky.” 

Emily grinned. “Should we say something?” 

Derek considered it for a moment, watching as your fingers absentmindedly combed through Spencer’s hair, his entire body visibly at ease. 

He let out a small laugh. “No. Let them have their moment.” 

For now, at least. 

Because later? 

Oh, they were absolutely going to tease the hell out of you both. 

[mihii-i]

Hiii, can You write Moder!mizu g!p and female reader with Breeding Kink ? (Obviously safe)

netflix and chill.

Pairings: mizu x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, g!p, modern au, breeding, marking, digging ur nails idfk, begging, mizu has a diq obviously read the request, if you don’t like this don’t interact cause I don’t headcanon this either but others do so leave me alone, netflix and chill yippee, penetration yay :3, raw sesbian lex because protection is for losers amirite (this is a joke pls use protection irl guys), mention of pregnancy but it’s up to u if reader is pregnant or not, shy mizu shy mizu shy mizu, she’s lowkey pathetic while fucking reader but it’s cute so who gaf, grinding lol, why are all my nsfw mizu works so freaky god, I always get embarrassed writing them, not proofread.

A/N: ouuuu my goodness you know what hell yeah let’s repopulate Japan with more blue eyed kids also no need to mention safe! I will automatically make nsfw fics safe unless the request says otherwise, and even then it’s heavily limited I may not hc this but yay let’s go🕯️

A gentle illuminating glow of the glossed flatscreen panned along the shadows of your face in the muted wake of darkness circling the couch. The only light present radiated from the warmth of the TV saturating yours and Mizu’s features as your cheek nudged into her shoulder, fabric nuzzling against your skin as her arm remained curled along your torso. You often found yourself huddled up to your girlfriend’s side quite late at night, eyes fixated on the familiar dynamic animation of the Netflix logo booming forward to dissolve into the familiar account menu.

Quiet hums of the dialogue ensued from the running show, screen flickering an array of flashes that reflected various changes of color lighting up your body. However, the dialogue only registered as a bellowing white noise that you drowned out from your view fixating on a certain someone, eyes transfixed upon her sharp features with adoration, so much so you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Mizu kept her eyes locked onto the blaring screen before her, arm fitted snugly around the fat of your hips as she relished in the feeling of your weight pressed to her side. Despite staring so intently, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as your gaze flitted up to Mizu’s stern expression. Strangely enough, she was far too focused on the show she was initially uninterested in, the aversion to any sort of attention likely beholding less innocent intentions behind the stoic front she kept before you in this moment.

“…pretty fucking boring right now isn’t it?” You interjected, cutting past the awkward silence fostered between you two.

She only delivered a silent nod as her mind swirled with an odd compulsion, thumb circling along the edge of your hip as the cool steel of her rings briefly brushed up below your shirt to elicit a small shiver from you.

Despite knowing that she wasn’t quite upfront with her feelings, tending to be more of the reserved type when it came to anything nagging at the back of her head like a parasite, Mizu tended to atleast hint at, or make obvious what exactly was bothering her. A tinge of worry clouded the widening pupils of your eyes taking in her figure lounged across the sofa, hand continuing to brush up along your body casually as the ongoing images of the show flashing by ran through one ear and out the other.

Storms of quiet, internal fury thrashed about in the deep pool of cerulean flashing across Mizu’s eyes as she firmly lowered her sights from you, the fabric of her black sweatpants rubbing up against itself as her thighs clasped together as far as they could go. Yet, the diffusing warmth of your body secure against hers continued to rack her head with the fury of unbecoming thoughts that ran rampant in her head just about now.

Fuck…you always snuggled up against her like this while watching Netflix, or anything..so why all of a sudden does it feel so unbearably hot? Especially in the frosted grasp of winter, and the lack of heaters in your dorm.

Everything around the two of you was consumed by a deathly silence eating at the pits of darkness swallowing up your surroundings apart from the TV itself, even the entrance to the kitchen appearing as a gateway to hell. Nuzzling closer to Mizu, your gaze periodically flickered over to her in the midst of each agonizingly long moment of dialogue, perturbed by your girlfriend’s unusual behavior today. Had you done something wrong? Was she uncomfortable..?

Clearing your throat, you managed out a barely audible reply, nearly close enough to a whisper as your fingers sank into the plush armrest of the couch to help yourself up. “I’m gonna go grab some more popcorn..okay?”

You wriggled out of Mizu’s grasp for a moment, finally earning a reaction from her as her head snapped up in your direction, eyes finally wide with a bit more life rather than mindlessly staring at the screen like a corpse. Rising to your feet, you trudged over to the shrouded abyss of a kitchen, sluggishly running your hand along the cool walls to navigate the lights.

The sharp brightness flooded into your eyes as you squinted upon recoiling, biting back a mewl of irritation at the sudden intrusion poking at your eyeballs. You weakly treaded through the tiled floors, the low cut of your pajamas pooling against the tiles as you rummaged through the pantry in search of a popcorn bag while longing to head back to the comfort of your dimly illuminated spot hemmed in Mizu’s grasp.

As you made your way back to the couch, Mizu seemed far more tense than she actually was, your expression wrinkling at the sight of her visible discomfort. Falling back into the grasp of the cushions swallowing you whole, you carefully allowed your hand to gravitate toward her, placing it onto bony ridges of her shoulder. She jerked forward in response, glancing over at you with an expression of internal panic scribbled all over. Seriously, what the fuck was going on with her?

“Mizu, what’s going on with you today? You’ve been all jumpy and stuff, it’s getting worrying.”

“Don’t..worry about it. I’m just not feeling well.” She dismissed, only earning a disapproving scoff from you.

“Bullshit. You never act like this. When you’re sick or something it takes me a while to notice.”

You craned over, hands planting onto the oppsite end of the couch past her thigh as you reached over to graze the bridge of your nose briefly below Mizu’s chin. Back slightly arched down, you shifted a hand over to rest on the opposite end of her waist, staring up to her face with a puzzled look. Her face was strangely a deeper shade of red, the warmth from her body practically burning your skin as you twisted your torso over to look straight up at her in the awkward position. Perhaps she really was sick if her face was this flushed?

“I- maybe I’m more sick than usual-“

Her words were hoarsely hitched out in a near gasp at the sensation of your proximity brushing up against her, your hand dangerously drifting closer to her thighs as she tried to clasp them together in a futile attempt, breath catching in her throat at your fingertips dancing along the woven fabric of her sweatpants stuck to her thigh.

“Oh come on, you’ve never been this cautious before! Just tell me what’s got you so-!”

As soon as those words left your lips, your fingers idly traced over the solid tent embedded at the center of her pants, cutting your words off abruptly as you saw Mizu’s eyes squeeze shut at the fleeting shock of her body twitching up.

oh…oh.

Your expression almost fell agape at the fact that you didn’t realize her hard-on sooner, head fogged with embarrassment as the blush seeping across your face mirrored hers while you bashfully looked away. You swallowed back the lump residing in your throat as your eyes averted back to the now prominent erection poking through the fabric between her thighs, Mizu’s expression beholding a hint of embarrassment, keeping her eyes averted.

Gods..she could’ve just said she wanted to knock you up and you would’ve complied. Seriously, this was about to be a Netflix and chill session.

“Sorry..” Mizu croaked out, wanting to bury herself in a hole and never come out from the sheer humiliation she felt from her girlfriend finding out that she was absolutely bricked. To be frank, she couldn’t exactly choke out any more words despite her embarrassment, considering the need to bury herself into the warmth of your cunt overpowered any other sense in this moment as her cock ached in the confines of her clothing.

Upon regaining your composure, you sighed out a small chuckle as your finger slipped along the waistband of her pants, her body curling up slightly at the smallest touch of your skin along hers. Of course, your hand retreated from her pants as your thumb ran along her bottom lip, her eyes boring into yours as they dusted over in a heightened intensity of need—her gaze alone screaming out that she needed your hands against her skin once more. A soft exhale made its way through your nose, lips pursed as you surveyed her taut muscles rolled back instinctively.

“Can I?”

She finally breathed out, her hips rolling up in small, almost unnoticeable motions if your hand wasn’t situated atop the tent in her pants as she desperately sought more friction from your touch. You let a smile stretch your lips as your legs mounted over to straddle her thighs comfortably, finding your pussy resting along her shaft throbbing between your legs.

—

“W-Wait..Mizu slow down..”

Your pleas were gagged by the crescendo of moans spilling from your feverish lips as she drove herself into you, trails of angry red marks blooming in a wake of fresh hickeys along the skin of your collarbone, up to your throat. Hands scrambling below you, you desperately rummaged along the empty cushions of the the couch your back was flush against to find some semblance of balance to ground yourself, only being able to weakly grip the edges before they slid off.

The engulfing heat of your cunt swallowed Mizu whole, velvety walls clenched around her flesh as the veins of her cock nudged up along the blanking heat tightening around her. A series of low whimpers wrenched out of her throat with each thrust burying herself into you, hiccuping back the shallow breaths accumulating in her chest at each of your lewd responses to her cock lodged inside you.

She was fucking big, no doubt. You couldn’t even bite back the strangled moan that the other dorms would definitely hear when Mizu first shoved herself into you, your cunt stretching to accommodate her girth protruding your hole as she sank deeper into you. Body jerking upward with each thrust, you could only cry out an incoherent string of moans as Mizu continued to ram into you, seeking more of your cunt’s warmth as the tip of her cock brushed along your womb.

Mizu continued to fuck you ruthlessly into the couch, your hands flying up grasp at her back to ground yourself as your nails dug crescents into her flesh, mouth hung open from the euphoric sensations pulsing through you at the delicious stretch of her cock massaging that one spot that made you cry out. Her pathetically desperate movements were far too adorable to you, the way she tried so hard held back those whimpers you loved oh so much, digging her cock to reach deeper into you as her head bowed down beside your chest, hair spilling over her shoulders and freely flowing down her back.

It was all just perfect. The way your insides practically molded to accommodate her, feeling the supposed illusion of her own stomach swelling with her deepening thrusts, her dick twitching within you with each fervent movement of her hips hilting forward—it’s as if you were the lock to her key. The way she kept trying to find a spot deeper that someone of her length could easily reach in a desperate attempt to nestle herself within your warmth forever. Hell, you imagined what it would feel like if she just got you pregnant at this point.

And as if she read your mind, linking you two intellectually in the raw instinct and desire consuming you two in this moment as she continued to sheathe herself into you, your moans harboring a few aroused gasps at the sight of her cock coated in your glistening slick. Mizu finally gasped out as well, her words slurred together and deeply craving the safety of your cunt grasping her tightly.

“Please..please please please, fuck- let me put a baby in you, (Name)..” she sobbed out, fighting back the urge to throw her head back in bliss as her words came out desperately. “Let me cum inside…I’ll take good care of you, and our kid..just-“

She was cut off by the tide of pleasure flooding her body, rubbing the ridge of her leaking tip along your g-spot like a puppy in heat as she mustered up every ounce of strength she had to continue fucking you. Damn it. She seriously wanted plant a kid inside you didn’t she? The way her dick practically begged your cunt to foster her inside your slick heat so she could leave herself inside you, wanting to spill inside you and have a baby of your own that mirrored the two of you.

She seriously was making it tempting wasn’t she?

Mizu lowered herself onto you weakly, pressing herself up against you, her skin flush to your own as her hips persisted in now gentle thrusts rolling within you to jerk up against your abdomen at an angle. Through your pleasured haze, you only responded with a nod, gaping your jaw to try and speak through the flurry of whines and cries assaulting your throat in sync with Mizu’s own.

“P-Please..yes. God- just fill me up already you- mmph..”

Mizu was near ecstatic at your words, her hand snaking behind your head as her moans persisted. The unfelt taste of what she thought your slick would feel like seeped into her mouth within the illusions of her fucked out mind, eyes rolling back weakly as she whimpered out a small series of ‘thank yous’ alongside your name as if it was a mantra on her lips, cock twitching against the spongy interior of your cunt.

Her hips swiftly met yours in one final motion, a hiss sizzling from her grit teeth as she pushed herself against you as if she had been deprived of your touch for an eternity, tits shoved up against yours, silently pleading to never let go. A long, guttural moan was ripped out of you as her hot cum spilled into you, decorating your insides a salty white. You watched, amused as Mizu tried to shove back in any drop that dared to leak out of your pussy, trying to keep her fluids inside you to swallow every ounce of her cum.

Mizu merely collapsed on top of you as she withdrew herself from your cunt, cheek nuzzling against your left breast as you let out a breathless laugh. As monstrous as she was while fucking you, she was just a woman who was satiated of her need and adoration she had to express, her arms locked around your body as her eyes nearly fell shut. Huh. The bright blue in her irises seemed to also bask in the afterglow of sex along with her body.

“Are you mad I probably knocked you up?” She hummed, her hand wrenching out from the weight of your back to lace her fingers with yours. You hummed in response, bringing your limp hand near your chest.

“Not at all.”

“Good…I just..kind of want a family with you someday..genuinely. Just, to have a peaceful life that’s all.”

“You’re cute when you’re not being all stoic and mysterious you know.” You replied with a gentle laugh.

“Well get used to it. If we’re gonna be parents sometime then..”

she trailed off, her head lulling against your chest as she dozed off, her energy fully spent from the aftermath of her intense orgasm as well as yours.

—

“Ugh- what the-?”

The vibrations of Mizu’s phone buzzing violently against the glass coffee table not too far from the couch jittered along the glass, her eyes catching sight of the sliding accept button for the incoming call as well as the barrage of notifications front the friend group chat with you, Mizu, Akemi, Ringo, and Taigen in it. She tiredly climbed off of you, clutching the blanket pooled at the foot of the couch and carefully tucking it over you before making her way to the phone. Of course, none other than Taigen calling her.

Her mood was already killed when she saw that she had to get off cuddling her girlfriend to lift a call, and what could Taigen possibly want that wasn’t chewing her ear off for a sparring match at kenjutsu practice? Of course, she didn’t notice you groggily blinking your eyes open as you sat up, muscles sore and aching from your previous activities.

“What?” Mizu demanded, putting the phone on speaker as an unamused expression remained plastered to her face.

“Why haven’t either of you been answering our texts in the groupchat? We wanted to make plans to meet up at a sushi restaurant on Saturday.” Taigen huffed, his voice coming through as to inquire what could possibly keep you two from answering.

After a moment of silence his voice cracked into the speaker again, sneering out to earn a reaction of sorts to get an answer. “What? Were you two fucking or something? Is that why you were away from your phones?” He asked, his tone wasn’t exactly condescending or mocking, just a little annoyed.

Mizu only scoffed, responding back in a hoarse voice. “Good job, you’re not a total moron. She’s pregnant now.”

A shocking silence gripped the atmosphere, Taigen’s shocked expression already palpable through the confines of the audio call screen—before he finally spoke up, the groupchat exploding with messages since the other two were probably with him.

“…Mizu what the actual fu-“

A/N: HELLO??? I ACTUALLY GOT LOWKEY EMBARASSED WRITING THIS IM FRYING. WAY MORE THAN MY OTHER MIZU FICS CAUSE THIS ONE EAS LIKE FREAKY FREAKY YK

also sorry if it’s kinda subpar cause I just got back from midterms haven’t written in a while and my brain is fried in hot oil- anyway I’m gonna consume 30 gallons of holy water after this I love the freakiness but holy shit. ALSO HEY WHY IS THE MIZU X READER TAG DYING OUT KEEP IT ALIVE. It’s ok mihi is here to save yall with another mizu fic

Also it’s so funny bc I lowkey imagine myself as reader when writing the mizu fics..and I know I would be snapped in half by the way she’s handling reader here because I’m like fucking 5 foot 1 help

Also I cannot crop the fuckass banner and make it look good help me so it’s big for now you get the luxury of square image banner and not thin rectangle AHHHHHHH

mizuuuuu ahahahahdhdhd

[cognitiveoverload]

Rejection (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: Being Hotch’s favorite is hard, but when he suddenly asks you out, you don’t really know if you’d like to make things harder for yourself.

tags: fem!tech analyst!reader

note: There will be more parts, not necessarily in chronological order. What do you think, what situations will they find themselves in? Send an ask with your idea, and let’s see what will happen.

At first, it was just a casual and genuinely innocent observation from Spencer. “Have you noticed that Hotch calls only you if he needs something?” he asked one day as he sat between you and Penelope in your little den.

But then this comment spread through the BAU like wildfire, making everyone think back of all the times their boss needed information, and look at that, they all remembered the same detail–it’s not just the fact he was always calling you, it was the fact he always called you by your first name.

And that’s how the constant teasing began. Derek, Emily, JJ and Penelope tormented you, with Spencer occasionally joining to spit out some facts about the both of you, while Rossi targeted Hotch as far as you knew. It was mortifying, really, but you got used to it.

What you still can't get used to is the change in your boss’ behavior. Recently he’s been different, although you can’t quite put a finger on what it is that changed. Sure, maybe he shows up a little more often in your office, strictly when Penelope isn’t around, and he brings you coffee when you’re working late or arrive a little too early as he does.

“How are you holding up?”

You turn your swivel chair around to look at Hotch, who’s standing in the door with an almost worried expression on his face. He sent Penelope home a few hours ago when a case affected her too much, and now apparently it was time for another wellness check in your little office. It’s hard to miss the way he’s flexing his fingers, a clear sign that he’s nervous, although you’re not a profiler, so you remain silent before you say something stupid.

Thinking about his question, you realize one thing. “It didn’t really affect me. Does this mean something’s wrong with me?” you ask him.

His lips part as he takes a shallow breath and thinks about what you just said. For a moment you think he’ll not give you an answer, but then he sits on the edge of your desk and watches you with a small smile. “It only means you’re tough. Look, you said, ‘It didn’t really affect me,’ which tells me it did affect you, just not as intensely as it did Garcia for example,” he explains kindly.

Nodding, you look down at your hands in your lap, but your gaze rises when he bumps his leg into your thigh. You expect him to say something, but Hotch remains silent, and he even acts like he didn’t do anything at all. There is one little thing that’s different, though. That barely visible smirk, the one you’ve all seen before.

Times like this it’s hard to comprehend the extremes in his behavior. He can act like this, so kind and supportive, but he can play rough too, especially when he loses control. And times like that, like a few days ago when he yelled at an agent who tried to take a case from him, you can’t help but think about how he could yell at you any time with you even thanking him.

Because, as pathetic as it might sound, an angry Hotch is simply irresistible. You probably have some issues that should be analyzed, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

“I often wonder how you all can do this every single day. Penelope told me to brace myself when I arrived, but… It’s hard sometimes,” you admit quietly. “Yet, there are cases that don’t really make me feel anything. I can’t really wrap my head around that.”

His brown eyes soften in sync with his expression, and then his lips curl into a smile. “You’re a good person, never forget that. Not feeling anything might be your brain’s way of protecting you. Either way, if you ever want to talk, you know where to find me,” he tells you as he stands up.

You nod, then return to your computer once he’s heading to the door. But then the sound of footsteps suddenly dies, and when you turn around to see if he has just disappeared into thin air, you find him watching you with a thoughtful look. Your brows furrow in confusion, but you don’t say anything, you just wait for him to spit out whatever’s on his mind.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asks casually.

It seems like an innocent, regular question between co-workers. The members of the BAU often team up in pairs or bigger groups to grab something, even Hotch joins them for a drink in a bar or dinner in some restaurant nearby. But he has never, ever gone out to eat with someone alone. Maybe with Rossi, but that doesn’t count.

So, it’s no wonder you have to think about the offer. You would be on thin ice, the team already has a little too much fun with the fact Hotch is playing favorites with you. If you have dinner with him alone, they might think you’ve been in some secret relationship all along.

In the end, the rational–or maybe rather paranoid–side of your brain makes the final decision. “Thanks, but I’d rather go home after I finish this,” you say, pointing at your computer.

He nods, and you begin to think he’s about to leave, but then he gulps and takes a deep breath, as if he’s gathering the strength or courage to say whatever’s on his mind. “I have paperwork that can’t wait, but I can give you a ride home after I’m done,” he offers, and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify.

“No need, I’ll be fine, but thanks anyway,” you tell him with a forced smile.

The last thing you need and want is Hotch taking you home. He means well, you know that, but you can’t risk being seen by someone who could easily start a rumor. The problem is, he’s almost as old as your dad, so people would talk about your nonexistent daddy issues, and he’s your boss, which would only make things worse.

So far the whole joke about being his favorite is something that stayed within the team, but if it gets out and reaches HR, you’re both done. You don’t want that, but not because of yourself. Hotch is ambitious, he’s insanely good at office politics, and if he wants to be promoted, he can’t be involved in such scandals.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sigh that leaves his lips. He looks almost disappointed, which is something you don’t really understand, because you can’t remember anything that could be even remotely rude. What is his problem? Or is there something he wants to talk about, something he wants to get off his chest?

Before you know it, he closes the door and walks back to you. “I’ve been making offers, and you turn down each and every one of them without hesitation. Why?” You can’t help but give him a confused look, because you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. Well, you know, but why does it bother him? “Is it because we would be alone?”

“It’s just… Wouldn’t it be weird?” you ask.

He inhales and exhales slowly before he suddenly crouches in front of you. “Look, there is a chance it will be weird, yes, but why don’t we give it a shot to see, huh? Come on, just you and me. If you’re afraid someone we both know will see us, we can go somewhere away from the usual crowd.”

You tilt your head to the side as you watch him, observing the look in his eyes, the small smile that makes your heart melt, and you simply can’t get yourself to say no to him. “Why?” you ask, although you know the answer, you just want to hear him say it.

“I’m sure I don’t have to spell it out for you,” he says with a boyish smile.

Gulping, you nod. A date. Aaron Hotchner wants to go on a date with you. But he’s your boss, if you started a relationship, there would be the danger of the aftermath of a breakup. Would you really like to risk it? You love this job, you love this team, you love Penelope, losing them wouldn’t be worth it.

You lick your lips as you push your chair back to build some distance. “I really have to get back to work now, and I’m sure Jack would be happy if you got home before bedtime,” you say, even though it hurts to turn down the invitation.

Hotch lets out a disappointed sigh as he stands up. “If you change your mind… you know. Good night.”

“Good night.”

[adilqalbi]

What's True Love If Not Necromancy?

pairing: ramdevi

tagging: @rc-catalog

word count: 799

tw: light mentions of death

rating: g

summary: a different take on devi waking up for the first time in hertfordshire, finding ram and their conversation.

additional note: A SUPER LATE birthday present for the one and only JB/ @webanglikethat!! Jbaby you're one of the greatest people I have had the honour of knowing. i did my best here but forgive any mistakes. i hope you have an amazing year and whatever troubles you, i hope it goes away asap. i'll always love you (platonically)

Ram hadn't realised just how much he missed Devi until the night she showed up to his room, complaining of a headache. 

She had been unconscious for weeks, but the British physicians had seemingly done their best to help her recover from her injury. 

Now, here she was, sitting on Ram's bed, breathing deeply and massaging her temples. 

Ram sat on the floor at her feet, watching her, his palms resting on her knees, waiting patiently for her to break their silence. 

Finally: ‘’Where are we?’’ Her voice was a whisper, and Ram had to lean in to hear the question. 

He sighed. She didn’t know. Of course, she had been dead, roaming around in the afterlife probably, and now she was back but in a foreign place. 

‘’We are in Britain. Hertfordshire.’’

‘’Hertfordshire? How? This…doesn’t make sense.’’

‘’Shh, I know it doesn’t. I’ll explain everything, rakshasi.’’ Ram ran his hand through Devi’s messy hair, trying to calm her down. 

‘’Please, Ram. Just tell me. I was dead. Dead. What happened?’’

Ram bit his lip. There was no delaying this. She had to know. 

He sat down next to her on the bed, took her hand in his and began. 

‘’You did die. Dixit stabbed you. But, you killed him before your final breath. And, then you died.’’

Devi was silent. 

‘Ram continued: ‘’I figure you would be upset to know that the last time you breathed was in…Christian’s arms.’’ 

‘’By the gods. Dying in the arms of a foreigner.’’ 

‘’Yes, well, it’s okay though. We got you back very quickly.’’

Devi looked up at Ram. ‘’Yes, how did you manage that?’’

Ram rubbed his neck, nervous, ‘’There’s this ritual that can be done. It had never been successful before but it worked with you for some reason.’’

‘’A ritual?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’It had never worked before?’’

‘’No.’’

‘’But, here I am.’’

‘’Indeed.’’

Devi rolled her eyes. ‘’Of course, you would know a ritual. But wasn’t it too big a risk?’’

Ram looked at the bedroom floor, dark oak. He was silent for a few minutes, lost in thought. 

It was risky to have done the ritual. He could have made everything worse. But, he knew one thing was true, which would never change. 

‘’I wanted to do everything in my power to get you back. I don’t think I could live without you.’’

Ram looked directly into Devi’s eyes, ‘’Five years, Devi. Five years of stolen glances, and flirty jokes, and searching for each other in the crowd and yet not being able to talk openly. I’d already suffered for five years, without you by my side.’’ Ram stopped here, his voice failing him. 

Devi completed his thoughts: ‘’And after five years, once we just began taking steps towards…happiness…that’s when I was taken away from the world of the living. And you…’’

‘’Couldn’t bear it. Not for one minute.’’ 

Devi curled her lips inwards, not sure what to say to Ram’s sudden confession. 

‘’I’m sorry, maybe this was too much altogether.’’ Ram quieted down, mentally berating himself for not keeping his mouth shut. He was always so good at it, so what happened now?

The next thing he knew was that Devi was holding his hand tighter. ‘’No, Ram. It’s…I appreciate you so much. I love you dearly. It’s just that…I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting it.’’

Ram raised his eyebrow, askance. 

‘’You were the one who said that what we have can’t be anything more than a secret.’’ Devi smirked, her old self coming back slowly as her mind got used to being alive again. ‘’What changed?’’

Ram looked at her again, her sparkling eyes, her smile. He thought back to how she laughed. 

‘’I want to make you laugh, I think. I want to do that for the rest of my life.’’ 

Devi blinked. She had expected a sarcastic joke, but this was serious. 

She smiled softly again, rubbing her thumb against Ram’s palm. 

‘’Ram…truly…I’d love to laugh with you forever. But-’’

‘’Oh god, there’s a but.’’ 

Devi, ironically laughed, ‘’Listen to me, you rakshasa. But now was not a good time to confess. I came back to life  half an hour ago. I’m pretty sure my body isn’t used to being alive currently. I think I need to sleep, actually. So, if you would please continue your tale of true love later on, I’d love to be able to sleep.’’

‘’True love? What do you mean true lov - wait!’’

It was no use. Devi was already under the covers with her eyes closed.

Under the covers. Sleeping. 

On Ram’s bed. 

In Hertfordshire. 

Where the maids liked to gossip. 

He looked at the empty side of the bed. He thought about it for perhaps one minute. Then he cuddled in right next to his true love.

[pinkyqily]

IT'S OKAY, WE'RE OKAY, WE ARE DEFINITELY NOT OKAY JUJU WATKINS x READER

Summary: After the losing game against Iowa, you and juju get into a nasty argument that leads to your teammates separating the both of you.

Warning: Angst Angst Angst, swearing, throwing shit around, bad juju and reader

Authors note: The match was something, so that is why we get angst for times like this, anyways happy reading feedback and requests are always appreciated 💕.

Tension within the team was high no one said a word as everyone entered inside the bus. All you wanted to do was sit down next to your girl and comfort each other, but that was a no brainer as she passed by and ignored you.

Her ignoring you kinda hurt but you weren't gonna push past it. You tried sending her texts only for her to swipe them each time, you saw her groan turning off her phone.

A pit was forming down your stomach but you ignored the feeling like a fool.

You knew the type of player juju was when things don't go the way they were supposed to. Right now with the loss she was definitely beating herself up over it. no one likes to lose, especially to a team that wears the ugliest shade of yellow.

Arriving at the hotel felt like you were about to step into a battle zone. Once again you tried getting juju's attention by grabbing her hands, but all she did was yank her hands away from yours like you were some insects coming to disturb her.

You tried one last time by tapping her shoulder until she finally snapped at you, raising her voice, something that she's never does always trying her best to be calm with you.

"Bro what the fuck do you want can you not get the hint that maybe I do not want to deal with your shit tonight". You heard her say which was shocking. Because she never had an outburst likes this not even infront of your teammates or others, so her doing this just made you feel like an attention seeker which made you embarrassed.

"First off, watch how you're talking to me because I do not curse at you whatsoever and all I was trying to do was comfort my teammate who thinks the whole world is on her shoulders when the team has a few bad games but it fuck me right?." You said to her.

a few of your teammates who hadn't head upstairs came to where you and juju trying to calm things down, but that only made things escalate.

"Wow this coming from the player that left the 3 pointer line all wide fucking open and probably cost us the game". The moments those words came out of juju mouth she insanely regretted them but it was to late because you already heard them.

"I'm so sorry that not everyone can be there own fucking Judea watkins that's oh so prefect". You threw back at her tears clearly streaming down your face

It was too late for juju to say anything as kiki and Ray came separating the both of you.

The looks from your coaches were equally heartbreaking because no one wants to witness their best players tearing each other to threads.

A wave of guilt filled juju as everything she said to you hit her like a brick stone she was obviously in her head and wasn't thinking at all but the damage was already done. She made you cry and hurt you're feelings what type of girlfriend and teammate was she?. Was all she wondered now.

You we're already walking off with kiki.

She tried saying something but was cut off by one of the coaches who told her not to.

"It not worth it juju just head back upstairs, we'll be having a serious talking about both of your behaviors ray please help juju up to her room". she heard coach say, heading back the other way with ray, head facing down has she pulled her hoodie strings ashamed of how she acted.

What she didn't see was the way you turned around, hoping for her to say something at all it could've been anything but she didn't.

Only leaving both of you to sleep with heavy hearts having a thin wall separating you once more, you guys were definitely not okay and no one was okay.

[buckysouvenir]

friends

pairing: bucky barnes x y/n authors note: day two! yay!

the valentine’s day collection 2025: for the first 14 days of february, i’ll be posting a series of short stories inspired by songs, all centered around bucky barnes.

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

You’re on the other side of the room, laughing at something he said. Your hand rests lightly on his arm, and he leans in just a little too close. Bucky watches it all unfold from where he stands, jaw clenched, fingers tightening around the glass in his hand.

He shouldn’t care. He tells himself that over and over, but the words feel empty.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

His patience has been wearing thin all night. He came here with no expectations, but the second he saw you, it was like a switch flipped inside him. Every moment, every stolen glance, every late-night conversation—it all meant something. Didn’t it?

But here you are, with someone else. Like none of it ever happened.

“All your girlfriends are wasted.” Sam’s voice cuts through his thoughts as he comes up beside him, nodding toward your friends, who are deep in conversation, half-drunk and oblivious. “And you look like you’re about to punch a hole in the wall.”

Bucky exhales sharply, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”

Sam gives him a look that says he doesn’t buy it. “Yeah, sure.”

He tunes Sam out, gaze locked on you. Every part of him is telling him to walk away, but then you finally notice him. Your eyes widen just slightly before you smile—like nothing’s wrong. Like he isn’t standing there, heart pounding, wondering what the hell he even was to you.

You make your way over, leaving the guy behind without a second thought.

“Bucky.” Your voice is soft, almost hesitant. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“Yeah, well…” He shrugs, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Didn’t think I’d find you with him.”

Something flickers across your face, too fast for him to read. “It’s not like that.”

Bucky lets out a humorless chuckle. “Really? ‘Cause it sure as hell looks like that.”

You shift on your feet, and for the first time tonight, you look uncertain. Good. Because he’s been drowning in uncertainty since the moment he saw you with someone else.

“What the hell were we?” he asks suddenly, voice quieter now, but no less intense.

You blink, caught off guard. “Bucky—”

“No,” he cuts in. “Just tell me. Were we just friends? Because it doesn’t make any damn sense, but if that’s all it was, just say it.”

You don’t answer right away. And that silence? It’s louder than anything you could’ve said.

His chest tightens. He exhales sharply and takes a step back. “I get it.” His voice is rough, strained. “I should’ve figured.”

“Bucky, wait—”

But he’s already turning away, already deciding that whatever this was—whatever he thought this was—it’s over.

And he’ll be fine without you.

Right?

#taglist: @cjand10

[just-wrting]

Think I Like You

Title: Think I Like You

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Half Mink!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Master List

Summary: You try to figure out why Zoro won’t take you seriously even if the answer isn’t what you expect.

A/N: I’m not dead! I’m just all over the place with a lot of stuff. I sleep a lot which I can’t tell if it’s a sleep issue or a depression issue, but I’m always tired. I still work full time but also do school part time now. Plus I’ve still got a boyfriend! But he wanted to end this weekend on 1062 which means Zoro brainrot for me.

You stretch and roll over, burying your face into your pillow. Ever since you changed where you nap, you've started sleeping so much better. Something about being more comfortable or something like that. The actual reason doesn't really matter. You're just happy you're sleeping better.

"You owe me for this."

"I don't owe you shit. Not my fault you nap in my spot." You reach up and pat his cheek. "What do I need to do for you to be quiet?"

"I already told you, you owe me."

You open your eyes just a little. "What could I possibly owe you? I don't like to drink, I don't keep money, not to mention I can't even tell if you're the type of man to be swayed by physical charms. What could I possibly offer you, Roronoa?"

"For starters, you can start referring to me by my name like everyone else does." He looks pissed. "You should fight me."

"You didn't take me seriously last time, Moss Head. Why would I bother trying again?"

He pulls on your ear. "I said like everyone else, not like how that idiot says my name."

You ignore him and bury your nose in his stomach. Dinner has been started, and if you don't ignore it you'll end up going to the kitchen early. It's less that Sanji minds seeing you, it's more of the fact that you struggle to suppress the urge to knock shit off the counter and dip your fingers in the sauces. Such is the life of someone like you.

You let yourself doze a little. You can still hear what's going on, but just like every common house cat, you ignore it. What you can't ignore is the gentle scratching behind your ears. As far as you remember, no one has done this since you were a kid. You don't hate the feeling, but you start to feel flustered over it. Ever since you left home, you've made sure affection comes at your own terms so you haven't had this in years.

There's no point in asking him to stop. You're clearly fond enough of him to nap on him, what's the big deal about getting ear scratches? Besides, he's the type to get embarrassed and loud if you point out you're awake. That's not something you feel like dealing with right now. You're too touch starved to complain.

Despite the comfortable conditions, you don't actually fall asleep. You spend the next forty-ish minutes pretending to sleep, waiting for dinner to be done. The time passes by relatively quickly, though you're sore afterwards. You couldn't bring yourself to even twitch, worried that he'd stop.

The dinner call goes off, and you pretend to wake up. You have no clue why you're acting, but it was too late to stop twenty minutes ago. Standing up, you stretch halfheartedly. At first, he doesn't say anything. It's only once he catches up to you that he starts asking questions.

"What's the deal with the noise you make?"

Raising an eyebrow, you look at him. "I don't snore, so I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm not stupid, I can tell you aren't snoring. The other noise, the one that's relaxing. I can usually feel it when you're laying directly on me."

"What do you mean? The other noise?" You pause to think it over before it clicks. "We aren't talking about that."

You know what he's referring to. It's not like it's something you can control, but it's still embarrassing. Of all people to be you around, it's been Zoro. No one on the crew has judged you for being what you are, it's just embarrassing to be a mix. Your mother's human, and your dad's a mink. You look decently human, just with a few quirks.

"What do you mean, we aren't talking about it? We're talking about it right now."

Your face starts to heat up. "I mean I don't want to tell you."

His eyes narrow in suspicion. "Why not? Is it supposed to be embarrassing or something?"

"If I say yes, will you drop it?"

"Yeah, sure."

His face instantly relaxes. If you could smack him, you would. The last time you tried, it hurt. So you put your hand on his shoulder and give him a push. The only thing it does is cause his other shoulder to hit the doorframe, but you use it to march past him.

You take your seat, leaning back against the armrest of the booth seat. Kicking your feet up on the space next to you, you watch the crew carefully. Everyone is smiling and in a good mood, so you don't have anything to worry about. You don't ever admit it, but you care about them even if it's difficult to show.

Zoro picks up your legs and lays them in his lap. Since it doesn't seem to bother him, you're tempted to just sit normally. You have no idea what's going on in that head of his, and you doubt he does either. However, you actually do enjoy touching him, so you'll stay like this for now.

There's more commotion as Sanji brings out the plates. The one you're most interested in is a large tuna fillet that gets set in the middle of the table. You can't stop staring at it, the tender flesh a beautiful golden color. It's hard to tell if it smells better than it looks or looks better than it smells. Sanji has never failed to impress you with his dishes, so you can't wait to sink your teeth in.

Before you can even start to load your plate, Sanji sets a small plate in front it you. It contains a disk of packed rice, some avocado slices, and chunks of fish. You're assuming it's more of the tuna. Whatever it is, it was made specifically for you.

You don't mind the special dishes. You'll try almost everything, and unlike Luffy, you'll eat it slow enough to give a review. Everything tastes good so you don't get the point, but it probably makes Sanji feel better to have honest reviews and not just someone who loves food fawning over his cooking. Though if you're not careful, you worry that he'll start having write an essay about it.

"And for you, a special tune tartare! If you like it, I'll make it again for everyone some time."

You nod. "Yeah, I'll let you know. I always do. Not that you've ever made a bad dish."

You can't stop the tip of your tail from flicking back and forth in mild annoyance. By the time you get halfway through the tartare, all of the fillet is gone. It's not like it's the biggest deal, you just wish you could've had some of that too. It's not fair that since you got a special tuna dish, that you don't get the other one.

"If you tell me what that noise was, I'll share," Zoro teases while pointing at you with a bite of tuna. "I bet you can't resist answering now."

"I'm a cat. I was making a normal noise that cats make. Consider it a compliment."

You lean forward and take the bite of tuna. It's flakey and melts on your tongue with a slightly sticky glaze that has hints of honey and garlic. You lick your lips savoring the balance of flavors. None of them are overwhelming, but it's hard to gauge in just one bite what you think about it.

"You can't just," Zoro stutters. "You can't just take the food off of my chopsticks. Get your own!"

You grab his wrist and lick the glaze off of the chopsticks. It feels like there's another flavor there that you can't quite tell what it is. It's some sort of herby flavor, that while you enjoy, you can't pin down.

"Here!" Zoro doesn't look at you as he shoves his plate towards you. "Just take it since I don't want your germs."

You want to tease him, but you'll leave him alone. It's better to leave it in front of other people since Robin's insinuations are becoming too much. For now you'll just eat the food. Later, you'll tease him.

—-

"You're still not taking me seriously, Roronoa. Why did you want to fight if you won't take me seriously?"

You lunge, hand reaching for his throat. He blocks it with his arm, causing your claws to dig into his skin. Using his arm as leverage, you pull yourself closer to him, swinging your sword at his side. His parry is effortless, and he looks bored. It's so aggravating that he won't take you seriously in a simple sparring match. Perhaps he'd take you more seriously if you actually tried to kill him.

You disengage before leaping over him. This time, you swing your sword at his neck as he turn around. It's once more blocked, and he smirks. You're just barely faster than him as he takes a halfhearted swing at your sword arm with his other arm. You catch the flat of the blade with your knuckles, steeling your arm against the shock wave of the blow.

Kicking your leg out in front of you, you aim for his knees, intending to bring him down. Despite the grip on his sword, he catches your ankle in his hand and pulls your leg to the side. You let your body pivot with the movement, twisting until your leg is behind you. You yank your foot forward as hard as you can, pulling him into your back.

He's quick to let your ankle go and grab your shoulder to steady himself. In a fluid motion, you swing your arm and grab your dagger. You flick it in your fingers and thrust towards his ribs. His hand trails down your arm to your wrist and pins it behind your back. He gives it a squeeze trying to get you to drop the dagger.

"Are you actually trying to kill him?" Nami tells from the side. "Are you stupid?"

You roll your eyes, sweeping your leg behind you and hooking Zoro's. Despite your efforts, you can't get him off balance, only causing him to take a step back. By now you're getting pissed off. You aren't a bad swordsman, it's just that this jerk is ridiculously smart in battle. This is probably the only time he'll use his brain all day.

You jerk your head back, hitting his jaw. The sound of the impact makes you regret it, knowing you'll feel like shit later. You manage to free yourself as he loosens his grip, and you elbow him as you twist back around. The only reason you're still going is because he won't take it seriously. It's like he finds it funny that he's able to fend you off so easily.

You rush towards him, tossing your weapons to the ground. Digging your claws into his shoulders, you use your momentum to knock him over. It only works because he's too busy rubbing his jaw to notice you in time. The two of you tumble to the deck, and you lean in as close as you can.

"Why won't you take me seriously? Is this just a game?"

Faster than you can blink, he's able to flip and pin you under him. He's even more smug than the last time you sparred, and you can't tell if you want to smack him or if you should kiss him. Not that you could smack him, he's got your hands above your head. While kissing him would let you win, you're not willing to fight that dirty in a friendly match.

"You're a brute, Zoro. You can't just manhandle the other crewmates just because you feel like it." Sanji pulls him off you. "If you were in the mood to fight I would've taken the offer."

You tune out their fight as Chopper checks your head and shoulder. You're a bit sore now, but you'll be fine in a few hours. Nothing keeps you down for long, even if it's usually just you going against the doctor's orders. The only thing actually bothering you is the fact that for a moment you thought he was going to answer your question. Though the fact you thought about kissing him is also an issue.

It's not difficult to figure out why you thought that way. Your parents made sure that you knew to find someone strong enough to protect you in case of something happening, even if you knew how to take care of yourself. That, and he's easy on the eyes. Even if he's an idiot half of the time, that doesn't matter. Your parents never said to find a smart man, just a strong one. Everything else was your choice.

Chopper hands you a damp towel, and you use to clean under your claws. Tiny spots of blood rest under them, probably from when you grabbed Zoro. If the pinprick wounds bothered him, he doesn't show it. He's too busy trying to shove Sanji off the boat. As long as you stay dry, it doesn't matter if they end up overboard. They can both swim.

After a few minutes, Nami separates them. You watch her glare at the men before you stalk off to take another nap. The sun is just starting to dip below the water, so finding a nice patch of sun to lick your figurative wounds isn't possible. You'll have to settle for sulking in some weird spot. Perhaps it's time to torment the fish in the tank once more.

Lounging on the sofa is probably the second best place to nap. The sound of the tank constantly humming while you watch the fish swim in tempting circles puts you at ease. You stretch out fully, let your arm and tail hang off the edge. The tip of your tails twitches slightly as you trace the movement of a particularly large bass. That should be tomorrow's lunch, perhaps in a stew. Even though it hasn't been long since you had food, your mouth starts to water at the idea of seafood stew.

"He really doesn't take you seriously, does he?"

You recognize Robin before she even speaks. Her stride is longer than Nami's with her steps being lighter than everyone else's. Not to mention she smells floral. It's never overpowering, but it allows you to pick her out from the crew.

"I guess not. Maybe I should've gone for his other eye."

She laughs, sitting down next to you. You aren't opposed to the company, especially if it's Robin. There something about her that puts you at ease.

"I don't think he'd like that," she muses. "What did he say to you?"

You scoff. "He didn't say anything. Bet he's too proud to take me seriously, like the jerk he is."

Robin smiles knowingly. "I'm sure he has his reasons. Maybe you should talk to him, just the two of you. I'm sure he'd tell you when no one else is around."

You frown. "What is he? A shy school boy? There's only one reason for not taking me seriously in a fight, and it would be him not thinking I'm even worth it. No point in having him tell me that in private, he can just keep it to himself."

She reaches out her hand, gently brushing your hair from your eyes. "Then what do you think about him?"

"I think he's an idiot who swapped out his brain for more muscles."

"Let me rephrase that. What feelings do you have about him?" There's a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "At least figure that out."

You shift so you can place your head in her lap. "I guess he's fine most of the time. I don't know why I enjoy his company, I just do. He's never really pushed me on anything, just sort of letting me do my own thing. Not to mention he's comfortable. As much as I hate admitting it, I suppose I like being around him."

She continues to brush your hair with her fingers silently. It's one of those tactics of hers. She'll stay quiet until you keep talking.

"What do you want me to say? He's nice enough to me, I can respect him as vice-captain, and he's decent looking. Everything else I think about him is my little secret." You're starting to get irritated talking about him. "Actually, I think I'll go talk to him now. I'll drag that answer out of him if I have to."

Robin looks at you with worry as you sit up. "Perhaps this is just a misunderstanding. What are you going to do if his answer isn't what you expect?"

"I'll deal with it when it happens," you say with a shrug. "It's not like it'll be anything surprising."

You take your time wandering around the ship. It's not hard to tell where he is, you'd rather put it off for a little bit longer. This weird feeling in your chest has been bothering you a lot lately. It can't be ignored anymore, but that doesn't mean you're one hundred percent ready to admit it.

Thankfully, he's exactly where you knew he was. You won't tell him that you enjoy finding him when he's working out. Something about him being shirtless is nice. Not that he usually bothers with wearing a shirt, so you can usually just stare whenever you want. Maybe he just likes the attention, and you'll gladly give it to him.

As soon as he leans back on the bench, you sit on his lap and stretch out over his torso. You rest your chin on your hand, pressing your palm on his chest. Watching as he sets the barbell back on the stand, you wait for him to start talking. It would be fine with you if he kept working out, but he seems opposed to the idea.

"Is bothering me amusing to you?"

You tilt your head slightly. "You're not cute when you're mad, so no. I was just hoping we could talk."

"You don't have to sit on me to talk."

"That's just personal preference. Besides, you tend to avoid talking about certain things and this keeps you from leaving." you say with a Cheshire grin. "I enjoy your touch, so this is ideal for me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Zoro looks away from you. “You keep saying weird stuff.”

You don’t even blink as you respond, “I enjoy your touch. That’s what that means. I’ll even be nice and tell you the answer to your question from earlier. As a cat, I sometimes purr when I feel comfortable and content. Though some cats purr when scared.”

“So you’re scared of me? Is that what that means?”

“No. The only thing particularly scary about you is the fact that you’re an idiot.” Your ears twitch. “But since I answered your questions, you can answer mine. Why don’t you fight me seriously?”

He looks at you for just a moment, before looking at the ceiling. It’s like he’s embarrassed by the answer and is hoping you’ll forget about it. However, you’ve already made up your mind about what you want. You’re just waiting to see what he’ll do.

“I-,” Zoro cuts himself off to hide behind his hand. “I could hurt you really bad. That would be bad.”

Your tail swishes on the ground in mild irritation. “So you think I’m incapable of defending myself. That would explain the times you’ve interrupted my fights.”

“It’s not that!” He sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist to make sure you don’t tumble to the ground. “I don’t want you to get hurt if I’m around. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”

You’re nose to nose with him now. Even at this distance, he can’t seem to make eye contact. You can smell the liquor from dinner on his breath. It would be so easy to close the gap and kiss him, but for some reason the thought makes you nervous. You’re usually close to him, so why is this time different?

“Why should you keep me safe?” you mumble. “Do you save me out of obligation for the crew? If so, aren’t there better people on the crew to swoop in and save?”

“Does it matter why?” The way that his lips almost touch yours as he speaks makes you flustered.

You close your eyes. “Yes. I don’t want to get my hopes up if you think of me as nothing more than a burden of a crew-mate. Just be honest with me for once, Zoro.”

You don’t regret the soft begging tone as you say his name. You regret not saying his name in that almost pathetic tone sooner. The way that he kisses you makes your head spin. Even though he’s holding you close, you have to wrap your arms around his neck to make yourself feel more steady.

Zoro kisses you like he’s been wanting to for months. His hold on your waist makes it impossible to move, and the way that his hand grips yours hair makes you moan. You can barely breathe as his tongue explores your mouth, your grip on reality slipping as his fingers dig into thigh.

Even when he pulls away to let you breathe, you find yourself lost in the way he touches you. Sloppy kisses trail down your jaw and neck, coming to an end with his teeth on your collarbone. The way that his fingernails scrape gently against your scalp as he tugs lightly on your hair causes you to expose more of your chest to him as you lean into his palm.

You’ve never felt like this before. Hot, heavy, and breathless all while being lightheaded. You wouldn’t have it in you to resist him if he wanted more. In fact, the pathetic words of begging him to ravish you weigh heavy on your tongue. Yet he just continues to press kisses along every inch of skin exposed to him, ignoring how hard you’re panting as little moans escape you. He’s oblivious to everything but the act of kissing you.

Zoro only pauses after you tug his hair harshly. You didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help the reaction to him biting down on the side of your neck. You couldn’t even help the strangled groan that leaves you as he leaves a mark. For some reason, your body is shaking like you have some sort of withdrawal.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice rough and low.

You kiss him again, desperate to get as close as you can. Desperation courses through your body as you realize just how badly you’ve waited for this. You’ve spent months being almost attached to him so it makes sense, you just can’t figure out how you missed it. The long nights spent curled up in his lap, face buried in his neck has left you craving him so much.

You whine as he pulls away, unwilling to let this stop. It doesn’t even matter anymore how prideful you’ve been up until this. It’s so obvious how much you want him. Nothing could hide it anymore.

“Zoro.” You don’t even open your eyes. “Please.”

He gives your thigh a tight squeeze as you whimper. You can tell that what little restraint he has is fading with each whine of his name. Yet he’s able to pause and hold you close, breathing heavily into your ear. Eventually, he covers your mouth with his hand, stifling your words.

“Not like this,” Zoro says, his tone meaning he’s serious. “If you really want it, I want to make it special.”

“S-special?” You don’t know what that means. When was the last time someone told you that you were special? “How?”

“Just better than in the exercise room on the Sunny. You deserve to be treated better than that.”

You nod, and he lets his grip loosen. Despite the fact that nothing much happened, you feel drained. Maybe it’s because you really enjoy naps, but the exhaustion is hitting you hard. You don’t hide it, letting yourself go limp as Zoro picks you up.

“You can sleep in my bunk tonight. Not that it matters if I say you can as you usually show up anyway.”

You caress him jaw before giving his cheek a kiss. “Thank you, Zoro.”

The flush on his cheeks goes unnoticed by all beside you. Not that it matters, you don’t want to hide your feelings for him any longer. If he agrees to it, you’ll parade your feelings for the world to see.

[rhyrhy]

Vital signs ـــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Greys anatomy AU! Doctor- Abby Anderson

Mlist | moodboards I second chap (you are here) |

Two: Sink or swim 🩺

⚕️ summary: At St. Mary’s Hospital, the rules are simple. Saving lives, avoiding attachment, and never going overboard. However, staying within those boundaries is becoming increasingly difficult under the constant gaze of the head of cardio.

Your feet feel like lead in your shoes. Two hours ago, you found out that your planned one-night stand was actually the head of cardio at your hospital. And now, just when you thought your bad luck had peaked, fate decided to twist the knife. Because despite your best efforts to avoid Dr. Anderson, she was the resident on this case with you. So, you did everything you could by yourself. You pushed through rounds, meticulously checked vitals, double-checked scans. You weren’t about to look incompetent, not on your first shift. That wasn’t an option. You needed be that intern to get that first surgery.

But now… you’ve hit a wall.

Great.

Nine hours in, the morning has blurred into a mess of movement, orders, and adrenaline. Somewhere in between rushing from one patient to another, you and the other interns finally exchange names, though it barely registers. Everyone’s too exhausted to commit anything to memory beyond who’s in charge and where they need to be.

The sleeve of your white coat brushes against the empty desk as you sit hunched over Katie’s chart. The distant chatter of coworkers in the cafeteria barely reaches you, drowned out by the sound of your own thoughts. Your eyes burn from staring at the same scans, the skin of your fingertips dry from flipping through printed ink a million times. Nothing. How could there be nothing when she was clearly in pain? You can’t go back into her room without answers, you need to prove yourself.

At some point, Dina hurries over, eyes wide with barely masked panic.

“I need help. My patient’s O2 stats are dropping, and I have no idea why.” Jesse lingers just behind her, standing a little too close, like he’s waiting for an excuse to jump in. He’s always like that with Dina—hovering, teasing, toeing the line for coworkers.

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your temple. “Ugh, you too? Mine is driving me up a wall. It’s like a phantom pain—nothing’s showing up on these scans.” You glance back at the pages of Katie’s chart. Blood work, normal. Imaging, clear. Symptoms inconsistent. But she looks awful—tired, weak, barely able to sit up without wincing. Something isn’t adding up.

Without realizing it, the four of you have gravitated toward each other like lost kids at recess, huddling together like anxious penguins. Intern penguins.

Or, as General Marlene’s voice echoes in your head, “bottom of the surgical food chain.”

Marlene. Just thinking about her makes your shoulders tense. She’s the reason you got into St. Mary’s. The reason you had to pack up and leave home, leave behind the mess you were barely holding together. You told yourself it was for the best—fresh start, new city, clean slate. No more family drama breathing down your neck, no ex showing up at your doorstep with apologies too late to mean anything. But somehow, standing here, exhausted, drowning in charts and expectations, you’re already wondering if this was a mistake.

Then, as if summoned by your thoughts, a voice cuts through the group like a scalpel.

“Why are y’all just standing there?”

Marlene. She’s leaning over the railing above, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. The overhead lights cast sharp angles on her face, making her look even more intimidating than she did during rounds. Her voice halts conversation. You barely have time to react before she levels you all with an unimpressed glare.

“Rule five: when I say move, you move.” She rolls her eyes and waves everyone off.

A brief pause lingers. Then, after a few awkward head nods and quiet “thank yous,” for whatever help we’d gathered, like a bunch of scolded children, you scatter.

You let out a breath and head back to Katie’s floor. Maybe you didn’t ask enough questions. Maybe you were too focused on her stubbornness. How could your first case—a stomach ache, of all things—stump you this much? The world around you fades into white and black lettering, as you push your hair behind your ear, weaving through patients and doctors, eyes glued to the papers in your hands, praying there’s something you missed.

You press the cold gray button with the arrow facing up, waiting for the elevator. The doors slide open, and you step inside, still reading. A faint hello pulls you from your trance. You don’t feel conversational so You nod absentmindedly in acknowledgment before tilting your head back, letting the bright fluorescent light fill your vision. Your brain is fried. A five-second break won’t kill you.

Then, a familiar chime.

You glance over your shoulder, and there she is, hair pulled back, glasses hooked onto the collar of her dark blue scrubs. You’re still not used to seeing her in this environment. It feels like night and day, remembering the slightly clingy woman who had begged you to stay in bed with her just hours ago. Abby’s hand curling around your wrist under warm sheets, her hair messy, falling halfway over her face. The sleepy rasp of her voice: “Stay a little longer?”

You blink hard, forcing yourself back to reality. Trying to keep those thoughts to a minimum. She leans against the wall, arms crossed, looking way too at ease for someone who just spent six hours cutting people open. Nope. Not going there.

You straighten awkwardly. “Dr. Anderson.”

Her eyebrow raises at the formality, but she doesn’t comment. Instead, she hums. You snap your head forward, keeping your eyes locked on the silver doors, willing the elevator to move faster.

A beat of silence. Then—

“So…” Abby starts casually, like you didn’t wake up in the same bed seven hours ago. “You a hiker?”

“…What?” Your brows pull together, with a small squint of confusion. Was this her idea of small talk, you screamed internally for the universe to let up.

She shrugs, tilting her head slightly. “Utah. Mountains. People out here love hiking. Thought maybe you were one of those ‘find yourself on a trail’ types.”

You blink. “…That’s the most random thing you could’ve said just now.”

She hums, pretending to think. “Well, I considered leading with, ‘Hey, funny running into you here after last night,’ but I figured you’d prefer the small talk.”

Your jaw clenches. “Yes. Definitely prefer the small talk.”

She nods, barely holding back a grin. “Right. So, hiking.” Her gaze flickers downward for a fraction of a second, like she’s mulling over her own words before speaking.

She shrugs,“Just saying. Sounds like a good stress reliever. Can’t help but think they might be onto something.”

There’s a slight twitch at the corner of your lips. “Glad to see you’re adjusting well.”

She grins. “Mhm…Could be a team-building exercise.”

Your brow furrows. “What—are you inviting me—” You cut yourself off, looking away quickly. This was unprofessional. She was your superior. This woman is unbelievable, to say the least.

Moments of silence pass over you two, You don’t wait. The second the doors open, you’re out before she can respond. Just before they close behind you, Abby calls out—

“You let me know if you change your mind about the great outdoors!”

You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch before you can stop them. But as the doors slide shut, you can feel her eyes lingering on you, the weight of her presence pressing against your back.

A dim-lit memory flickers behind your eyelids, The Bar—Abby’s fingers loosely curled around a whiskey glass, the way she leaned in when she talked to you, her eyes unwavering. Her cheek rested against her palm as she listened, intently, to your slightly tipsy ramblings.

“I just… I needed to leave.” Your voice had been quieter then, more vulnerable. “It felt suffocating. Like I was trapped in this version of myself I didn’t even like.” Abby had only nodded, slow, understanding. Watching you like you were the only thing that mattered. No judgment, or chiming in…just listening.

You shake the thought away. Not the time.

The hours tick by, the weight of exhaustion pressing against your shoulders. Your patient, Katie, had been a complete mystery symptoms not quite fitting any obvious diagnosis, test results coming back inconclusive. But now, staring at the latest scan, the pieces finally click into place.

Your breath catches. “Oh my God.”

You scramble for a pen, flipping through her chart, double-checking the notes, re-running the possibilities in your head. It has to be this. A rare complication, but one that makes perfect sense. Your heart pounds as you yank the file off the desk. You have to tell Abby. Now. You spin on your heel, practically jogging down the hall, dodging nurses and patients as your sneakers squeak against the freshly waxed floors. Almost there—

BAM.

You collide with something solid. Hard enough to knock the air from your lungs and send your patient file flying. “Shit—” A pair of hands grab your arms, steadying you before you can completely wipe out.

“Damn, dude. Where’s the fire?” You blink up at Ellie, who’s eyeing you with equal parts amusement and mild concern.

“I—” you shake your head, catching your breath. “I think I figured out what’s wrong with Katie.”

Ellie whistles. “Look at you, solving medical mysteries on your first shift. Next thing you know, you’ll be stealing surgeries from the rest of us.”

You huff, bending down to grab your scattered papers. “Yeah, well, first I have to survive telling Anderson.”

Ellie helps you scoop up the last of the notes, handing them over with a teasing grin. “Well, good luck with that. Try not to walk straight into her, too.” You roll your eyes but shoot her a quick smile before hurrying off. Abby was about to get an earful—whether she liked it or not.

The low hum of hospital machines fills the room as you stand just outside Katie’s door, patient file gripped tightly in your hands. Inside, her parents sit in stiff-backed chairs, her mother wringing a tissue between her fingers, her father rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Their exhaustion is palpable—the kind that comes from hours of waiting, of fear twisting in their stomachs. You take a steadying breath before stepping in. Abby is right beside you, her presence grounding even if she’s the reason you’re feeling twice as nervous.

Katie’s mother stands the moment she sees you. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?” Her voice wavers on the last word.

You exchange a quick glance with Abby, who gives you a small nod, silently urging you to speak.

“We do.” You clear your throat, stepping forward. “Katie has a rare complication called Pericarditis It’s uncommon, which is why it wasn’t immediately obvious, but now that we’ve identified it, we can move forward with treatment.”

Her father straightens. “A rare complication? But she was fine last week. She just had a fever—how does it turn into this?”

You nod, flipping open the file. “That’s a good question. What likely happened is that she had a viral infection—something that probably felt like a cold or mild flu. But instead of just running its course, the infection caused inflammation in the lining around her heart, making it difficult for it to pump properly. That’s why she’s been feeling weak and having chest pain.”

Katie’s mother clutches her husband’s arm. “But you can fix it, right?”

You hesitate, and Abby smoothly steps in. “We have a plan. We’re going to monitor her closely, start anti-inflammatory medication to reduce the swelling, and if necessary, we’ll drain any excess fluid. If she responds well, she could be feeling better in a matter of days.”

Katie’s father lets out a slow breath, nodding. “And she’ll recover?”

You soften. “That’s what we’re aiming for.”

You rub your temples as you finish scribbling notes into a chart, exhaustion already settling into your bones. It’s only your first shift, and yet you’ve somehow run across the entire hospital three times, nearly killed yourself tripping over an IV pole, and barely avoided making an idiot of yourself in front of Dr. Anderson—twice. Intern year was going to be hell.

You glance at the clock. Lunch. Thank God. As you step into the hallway, Jesse falls into step beside you, looking way too smug for someone who’s also running on fumes.

“You look like you just got hit by a truck,” he comments, elbowing you lightly. Scanning over your slumped shoulders.

You glance at him, Straightening up slightly. “Feel like it too.”

Ellie and Dina catch up, Ellie stretching her arms over her head. “At least you don’t have a patient who tried to bite you,” she grumbles.

Jesse snickers. “Pediatrics?”

“Worse. Old fart with dementia. Thought I was his ex-wife.” Ellie sighed, huffing a laugh at her own description.

Dina grimaces, with a shoulder pat that went on a bit longer than normal, or at least you thought. “Yikes Williams.”

As the four of you make your way toward the cafeteria, you let out a deeper sigh. “Honestly, I have bigger problems.”

Jesse raises an eyebrow, curiously spiking. “Bigger than almost getting bitten?”

“I need a roommate,” you admit. “My new place is way too big for just me, and rent is stupid expensive. I thought I’d be fine on my own, but at this rate, I might have to start selling my organs on the black market.”

Ellie smirks. “Dibs on your liver.”

Dina glances over. “Wait, you’re looking for a roommate?”

You nod. Dina nudges you with her shoulder. “I’m literally looking for a new place. My neighbor is wayy too loud at two in the morning. Two. In the morning.”

“Oh my God. Roomies?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Roomies.” You agreed, it might not be such a bad idea.

Jesse groans. “Okay, this is ridiculous. If anyone should be Dina’s roommate, it’s me. I’d make a great one.”

Ellie side-eyes him. “Jesse, your car is a biohazard. I can only imagine what your apartment looks like.”

Dina snorts. “Yeah, sorry, man. I think I’ll take my chances with her instead.” She gestures at you.

You sink into your chair, letting out a deep sigh as the exhaustion from the day settles into your bones. Your scrubs feel heavier than when you first put them on, your feet ache like you’ve run a marathon, and your brain is dangerously close to short-circuiting.

So this really is your life now—running on fumes, chasing diagnoses, dodging Marlene’s wrath, and trying not to make a fool of yourself in front of Dr. Anderson.

Your eyes flick across the cafeteria, landing on Abby at a distant table. She’s deep in conversation with another attending, posture relaxed, fingers absently tracing the rim of her coffee cup. She looks just as sharp and confident as she did in the OR. Like she belongs here. And then there’s you—an intern who spent the morning nearly killing herself with nerves, playing medical detective for the first time, and figuring out how to navigate the fact that she accidentally slept with head of cardio.

Great first day.

Taglist: @sevyscoven

[starpoweredv1b]

With finding out you do like JJK, I gift you this drabble with Nanami.

Nanami isn't a dad. He is still single, and his life is still all about punching that time card. That is until one day, when he is getting off, a colleague begs him for a favor.

"My daughter normally takes the train home, but with all those reports of chikan reports lately, do you think you could possibly take her home?"

She is lucky that Nanami is such a stand-up guy and agrees. Taking time out of his valuble off time, he drives to the nearby college to wait. Still in his suit and tie, he is leaned against the side of his expensive car, always the gentleman he plans to open the door. He gets appreciative looks from girls passing by, but he has no interest in any of them. 'To young' he thinks to himself, that is until he sees his little soon to be passanger. Bright eyes look around the parking lot on the phone with someone, stretching up on tiptoes to try to get a better vantage. Silly little girl, don't you know that isn't how seeing better at a distance works? When she finally catches sight of him, she hangs up the phone and makes her way over to him with a bright smile to match those bright eyes.

"Mr. Nanami?" she asks once she gets close enough to be heard, sweet voice filling his brain like cotton candy and she was just so tiny as she stood in front of him. She would be easy to pick up. Hell, he could do it with one arm if she didn't squirm. Maybe even if she did. "Yes. Your mother sent me to take you home." he says. His voice was full of authority, but still polite. He put his hand out for her bag, but instead, she placed her own small hand in his mistaking it for a handshake instead. Everything about her was tiny. No wonder her mother was worried and asked him to go get her daughter. He would never do anything to her against her will.

In the car, he was now trapped with her smell, too, trying to make idle conversation, but it was hard when she smelt exactly like a vanilla cupcake. It's not the cheap perfume type either. "I'm going to school to be a baker." she proudly tells him the smile on her face makes him want to ruin it with his cock down her throat, but he waits. Ever the gentleman that he is. He doesn't even get home before he is fisting his cock roughly to the scent of her still in his car and texting her mother that he would be more than happy to keep picking up her daughter and making sure she got home safe, free of charge of course.

Over the weeks, he slowly starts getting his little passenger used to his touch. A hand on her back as he guided her to the car. Pushing her hair out of her pretty face when she looks up at him. No, he didn't just trail his fingertips down her face. Everything is slow and methodical until she greets him with a hug after a bad day. Tests and her partner burnt the confections they were working on. She huffed and crossed her little arms as her adorably plump and glossed lips pouted. God did he want those lips around his thumb as he absolutely wrecked her. She wouldn't have to have bad days like this if she dropped out of college and moved in with him. She could make him cute little deserts and breads and he could stuff her tiny cunt full of his hot loads every day. It would be absolutely perfect.

She didn't notice his hand on her thigh. She didn't notice it slipped up and up until he was squeezing the fat of her thigh. She didn't say anything when they ended up at his apartment instead of her home, but she did say, "Please." when she ended up across his lap in his secluded parking spot, making a mess all over the front of his pants

Turns out, she was playing the game as much as he was.

-🐱

🐱 anon singlehandedly feeding this account i swear!!! thank you for the gift it made me (s)cream trust.

making reader into his little housewife slowly but surely, god it definitely drives him crazy just imagining her all rounded and glowing with their kid one day, wearing an apron as she bakes for him. thinking about it would literally lead to him going extra deep if he's fucking her. whispering how good she's doing for him as he spears her open to her cervix. circling her clit with callous experienced fingers as he thrusts deep.

he's also the type to give forehead kisses as he cums deep inside. he'll have his hands on the backs of her thighs, her feet on the broad of his shoulders, and cock head kissing the curve of her cervix as he holds her in a mating press. he'll kiss her forehead so sweetly as he bullies her loaded cunt oh my god i need this man so so bad.

also this inspired me to one day write about burnt out salaryman nanami as a chikan. thank you 🐱 anon i am in love with your asks.

[cherryxbooo]

Love is never easy

Summary: Meeting a certain footballer wasn’t on your bingo card, but falling in love with him was even more unimaginable.

Reader x Pablo Gavi

Genre: fluff/angst

They say love should be simple.

That when you find the right person, it’s effortless, like a perfect pass that lands gently at your feet, as if it was always meant for you.

A connection so natural, so fluid, that you don’t even have to think.

But what happens when love feels like a game you’re always one step behind in?

When you’re constantly chasing, reaching, hoping, only to feel the ball slip just beyond your grasp?

I met Pablo Gavi in the most unexpected way, by quite literally crashing into him outside the stadium on a stormy evening.

The rain had been relentless, the kind that soaks through your clothes in seconds and turns the world into a blur of grey.

I hadn’t even been at Camp Nou for football.

My best friend’s brother worked security there, and I had come to meet her, completely unaware that fate had other plans.

One moment, I was battling my umbrella against the wind, the next, I was colliding into someone with enough force to make me stumble back.

My breath hitched as I looked up, my heart pounding, not just from the impact, but from the realization of who I had just crashed into.

Pablo Gavi.

His brow furrowed as he rubbed his arm where I had hit him, a soft curse slipping from his lips.

"Joder…" His voice was slightly irritated, rough around the edges, but the second his eyes met mine, something in them shifted.

His frustration faded, replaced by something else, curiosity, maybe. Amusement.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now.

I could barely find my words. "Y-yeah, I think so. Sorry about that."

He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head.

"You put up more of a fight than most defenders I face."

I didn’t expect him to remember me after that.

But he did.

The next time I visited my friend, I felt a pair of eyes on me before I even saw him.

And when I finally turned, there he was, leaning casually against a railing, arms crossed, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Still fighting with the wind?" he teased.

That time, I laughed.

The time after that, we talked.

And before I even realized what was happening, he had become a part of my life.

It felt easy. Too easy.

Like a dream you don’t dare wake up from.

But love, love is never easy.

They say the best love stories begin with friendship.

That the strongest bonds are the ones built slowly, quietly, in the spaces between laughter and late-night conversations.

That was us.

For months, Gavi and I existed in a space that wasn’t quite friendship but wasn’t something more either.

A delicate balance of playful teasing and unspoken feelings, of being each other’s first call at the end of a long day, yet pretending we didn’t notice the way our voices softened when we spoke to one another.

It started with late-night phone calls.

"Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?" I’d ask when my phone buzzed at nearly 2 a.m., his name lighting up my screen.

"Can’t sleep," he’d mumble, voice groggy but warm, like he had already been dozing off.

"Tell me something."

"Like what?"

"Anything."

So I would. I’d tell him about my day, about a funny thing my professor said, about how my best friend had tried (and failed) to set me up with someone.

I’d hear him scoff at that, muttering something under his breath that I could never quite catch.

Sometimes, it was the other way around.

"Tough game?" I’d ask when he called me after a match, his voice quieter than usual.

"Yeah," he’d sigh. "I just... I don’t know. I should’ve done better."

I’d listen as he talked, let him get it all out, the frustration, the pressure, the weight of expectations that never seemed to ease.

And when he was finished, when there was nothing left but silence, I’d whisper, "You’re too hard on yourself, you know that?"

His response was always the same, a quiet exhale, a soft "Only you say that."

I never knew what to do with the way my heart reacted to those words.

Then there were the little things.

The way he always seemed to know when I was having a bad day, sending me a simple "You okay?" that somehow made everything feel lighter.

The way he showed up at my university when he had a rare afternoon off, waiting for me outside my lecture hall with a coffee in hand.

"You didn’t have to do this," I’d tell him, but he’d just shrug, like it was nothing.

"You always forget to eat when you’re stressed," he’d say, handing me a sandwich like he had memorized my habits better than I had.

We never talked about whatever this was.

Never acknowledged the way his hand always seemed to find the small of my back when we walked through a crowd.

Or how we lingered just a little too long whenever we said goodbye.

It was easier this way.

Easier to pretend we were just friends.

Even when everything we did felt like something more.

Even when I already knew, I was falling.

And then, without realizing it, I had already fallen.

I fell for the way he looked at me, like I was something rare, something worth holding onto.

I fell for the way his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on my palm whenever we sat in silence, as if memorizing the shape of me.

I fell for the way he always pulled me closer in a crowded room, his grip firm, protective, like he was afraid I’d slip away.

I fell, hard and fast, like I never had before.

But love, love is never just about falling.

It’s about what happens after.

And somewhere along the way, something changed.

It didn’t happen overnight.

There was no sudden, dramatic shift.

It was slow, subtle, the kind of change you don’t notice at first, like the days getting shorter, the cold creeping in before you even realize summer is gone.

It started with the little things.

The way his replies to my texts, once almost instant, started coming slower.

At first, I brushed it off he was busy, caught up in training, exhausted from travel.

But then, the messages themselves became shorter. A simple "Yeah." or "We’ll see." replacing the playful, teasing paragraphs he used to send me.

The voice notes that once made me smile, his laughter, the way he always seemed to have a story to tell, became fewer and fewer, until one day, they just stopped.

The late-night calls faded too.

"Are you awake?" I would text, staring at my phone, waiting for those three little dots to appear.

Sometimes they did. Sometimes they didn’t.

When they did, it was always the same answer.

"Tired. Talk tomorrow?"

But tomorrow came, and we didn’t talk.

At first, I told myself it was fine.

I told myself I was overthinking it. That he was just busier than usual, that he was under pressure.

I made excuses for him, ones he never even had to say out loud.

"He’s training harder." "He needs space." "Nothing’s wrong."

But deep down, I knew.

I knew when he started canceling plans.

It wasn’t dramatic.

No last-minute apologies, no elaborate excuses. Just a quiet shift.

A "Can we reschedule?" here, a "Next time, yeah?" there.

Plans that were once effortless, ones he used to fight for, rearrange his schedule for, suddenly became too difficult to make.

I knew when he stopped showing up unannounced at my university.

When I stopped catching him watching me from across the room.

When his touch, once so natural, so certain, became hesitant, like he was holding himself back.

The first time I felt it, really felt it, was at a party.

It was crowded, loud, the kind of scene he usually hated but endured because I was there.

I saw him across the room, talking to someone, a teammate, a friend, I wasn’t sure.

He was laughing, the kind of carefree laugh I hadn’t heard from him in weeks. And then, for just a second, his eyes met mine.

A beat of silence.

And then, he looked away.

I swallowed hard, trying to push down the sinking feeling in my chest. Maybe he hadn’t seen me.

Maybe I was imagining things.

But later that night, when I reached for his hand the way I always did, he didn’t pull me closer.

He let go.

And that was when I knew.

The boy who once fought for every second with me was now letting moments slip away.

The boy who once looked at me like I was his safe place now seemed distant, distracted, like he was carrying something he couldn’t share.

And then, one night, everything came crashing down.

It wasn’t one thing, it was everything.

A missed call that turned into three. A message left on read. An excuse that felt too rehearsed, too empty.

And finally, the truth, the thing I had been too afraid to admit to myself.

I wasn’t losing him.

I had already lost him.

Meanwhile,

The ball bounced off his foot awkwardly, rolling too far ahead.

Gavi cursed under his breath, sprinting to recover it, but his timing was off again.

The pass he attempted was sloppy, the kind of mistake he never made, and when he looked up, he caught the coach watching him with narrowed eyes.

"Focus, Gavi!" the coach called out.

"Sí, míster," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Something was off with him today, had been for days, if he was being honest.

He felt it in the way his movements were just a fraction too slow, in the way his mind wasn’t fully locked into the game.

Football was supposed to be his escape, the one thing that cleared his head. But lately, it wasn’t working.

And the reason?

Y/n.

He had been trying not to think about her.

Trying to push away the ache that settled in his chest whenever he saw her name on his phone screen and didn’t answer.

Whenever he caught himself reaching for his phone, only to stop himself. Avoidance was supposed to make this easier.

It wasn’t.

He didn’t notice Fermin watching him until his friend nudged him, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Alright, qué pasa contigo?" Fermin asked, keeping his voice low as they walked off the pitch for a water break.

"Nothing," Gavi answered too quickly, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Fermin snorted. "Yeah, sure. That’s why you’ve been playing like absolute shit today?"

"Fuck off," Gavi muttered, but there was no real bite behind his words.

Fermin wasn’t having it. "Seriously, bro. What’s going on? You’re not yourself."

For a second, Gavi considered brushing him off again.

But something about the way Fermin was looking at him, genuinely concerned, made him sigh in defeat.

"It’s about Y/n."

Fermin’s eyebrows raised slightly in recognition.

"The girl you’ve gotten close with?"

Gavi nodded, running a hand over his face.

"I thought you two were good. What happened?"

Gavi let out a breath, shaking his head. "Nothing happened… that’s the problem."

Fermin frowned. "Okay, you lost me."

Gavi hesitated before finally admitting, "I fell for her." The words felt heavy, like they had been weighing on his chest for too long.

"And I don’t know what to do with that."

Fermin stared at him for a beat before laughing under his breath.

"Pablo, you’re acting like that’s the worst thing in the world."

"You don’t get it." Gavi exhaled sharply.

"I never had someone like her before. She’s… different. She actually knows me, not just the football part of me, but me. And if I tell her how I feel and it ruins everything, I lose that. I lose her."

Fermin tilted his head, considering his words.

"So what? You decided the best solution was to avoid her?"

Gavi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I thought maybe if I put some distance between us, it would go away."

Fermin blinked at him. "Go away?"

"Yeah—"

"Are you dumb?" Fermin cut him off, looking genuinely baffled.

"Like, actually, physically dumb?"

Gavi scowled. "Qué?"

"You’re trying to avoid losing her, but you are losing her. Right now. Because you’re pushing her away." Fermin threw his hands up.

"Bro, you’re literally doing the one thing you don’t want to happen."

Gavi clenched his jaw, looking away.

He knew Fermin was right, but hearing it out loud made his stomach twist.

"Just talk to her," Fermin said, his tone softer now.

"Be honest. If she doesn’t feel the same, then yeah, it’ll suck, but at least you’ll know. At least you won’t lose her like this."

Gavi sighed, staring down at the grass beneath his feet.

"And if she does feel the same?" he asked quietly.

Fermin smirked, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Then you stop being a dumbass and finally do something about it."

Gavi rolled his eyes, shoving his hand off. "You’re annoying, you know that?"

"And you’re dramatic," Fermin shot back.

"Seriously, this is some novela-level shit."

Gavi groaned, tossing his water bottle at him. "Shut up, tío."

Fermin just laughed, dodging it easily.

"Nah, but for real, you owe me when you and Y/n get together. I'm talking VIP tickets, front row seats."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Gavi grumbled, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips now.

For the first time in weeks, he felt like he knew what he had to do.

He had to stop running.

And he had to tell you.

Pablo had called.

Twice.

And then he had texted. "Can we talk?"

But I didn’t answer.

I told myself it was because I was still mad.

That I wasn’t ready to hear whatever excuse he had for pushing me away like I meant nothing.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

I was scared.

Scared that if I let him back in, he’d hurt me again.

That I’d start hoping, start falling again, only to end up in the same place, alone, confused, wondering where it all went wrong.

"You’re overthinking this."

I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts.

My best friend sat across from me, legs tucked under her as she scrolled through her phone like she hadn’t just said something completely outrageous.

"I am not overthinking," I defended, arms crossed.

She gave me a pointed look. "Oh really? So what do you call ignoring him for days instead of hearing him out?"

"I call it self-respect."

"Mhm, sure," she said, unimpressed.

"Or maybe… just maybe, you’re terrified of whatever he has to say because it might actually make sense."

I groaned, flopping back against the couch. "Why are you on his side?"

"I’m not on his side," she argued.

"I’m on the side of common sense, which neither of you seem to have. Look, men are dumb, babe. They don’t know how to act. They get feelings and then short-circuit like malfunctioning robots."

That made me laugh.

"So what, you think he just malfunctioned?" I teased.

"Obviously," she said dramatically.

"Poor guy probably thought ignoring you would fix his feelings. Meanwhile, here you are, going through all five stages of grief in your pajamas."

I smacked her arm, but I was laughing now, the weight in my chest feeling just a little lighter.

"I hate you," I muttered.

"No, you don’t," she sang, standing up and stretching.

"Alright, I gotta go. Just… think about calling him, okay? At least to yell at him properly. You deserve that much."

I rolled my eyes but nodded.

"That’s my girl," she said before grabbing her bag and heading out.

The apartment was quiet now. Too quiet.

I sat on the couch, staring at my phone, thumb hovering over Pablo’s contact.

Should I call him?

My best friend’s words played in my head. "You deserve that much."

She wasn’t wrong. I did deserve an explanation.

But was I ready to hear it?

To let him back in when I wasn’t even sure I had fully healed from the way he had pushed me out?

I sighed, rubbing my temples. Maybe I’d sleep on it.

Maybe tomorrow—

Knock, knock.

I frowned.

Was my best friend back? Did she forget something?

I stood up, walking over to the door. "Did you leave your—"

My breath caught in my throat.

It wasn’t her.

It was him.

Pablo stood there, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his hair slightly messy like he had run his fingers through it too many times.

His eyes met mine, and for a second, neither of us spoke.

"Can we talk?" he asked, voice quiet.

I should’ve slammed the door in his face.

Or at least made him wait longer, the way he had made me wait for an explanation.

But I didn’t.

I stepped aside, letting him in.

Pablo sat down on the couch, his knee bouncing slightly like he wasn’t sure how to start.

"I know you’re mad at me," he finally said.

I crossed my arms. "No shit."

He sighed. "I deserve that."

"Yeah, you do."

Silence.

He ran a hand through his hair.

"I messed up, Y/N. I know that. And I hate that I made you feel like I didn’t care, because I do. More than I should, probably."

My heart clenched, but I kept my expression neutral.

"Then why did you push me away?"

Pablo hesitated, like he was still debating whether to be fully honest.

Then, he exhaled sharply. "Because I fell for you."

I blinked. "What?"

"I fell for you," he repeated, looking at me now.

"And I freaked out. I thought if I ignored it, if I put space between us, maybe I wouldn’t ruin everything."

I stared at him, waiting for the logic to kick in.

It didn’t.

"So let me get this straight." I leaned forward.

"You caught feelings… and your solution was to avoid me?"

"Yes?"

"Pablo, that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

"Okay, Fermin already told me that, no need to gang up on me," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

"No, because—" I let out a frustrated groan.

"Do you even realize how badly that hurt? You were my best friend, Pablo. And then you just… disappeared."

His eyes softened, guilt flashing across his face.

"I know. And I hate that I hurt you. But, Y/n, I didn’t know what else to do. I’ve never had someone like you before. Someone who actually sees me. Not just the footballer, but me."

My heart skipped a beat.

"And I didn’t want to lose that," he continued, voice quieter now.

"I thought if I told you how I felt, I’d ruin what we had. But then, avoiding you just made me lose you anyway."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Yeah, it did."

Silence again.

Then, softer this time, he asked, "Can I fix it?"

I exhaled slowly. "You really are an idiot, you know that?"

He cracked a small smile. "Yeah, I’m getting that a lot lately."

I didn’t even realize I was smiling too.

The tension in the room slowly shifted, the weight in my chest lifting ever so slightly.

"So what now?" I asked.

Pablo hesitated before saying, "I don’t want to just be your friend anymore, Y/n. I want more. But if you don’t feel the same, I swear I’ll—"

I cut him off by grabbing his hand.

"You’re an idiot," I repeated. "But you’re my idiot."

His breath hitched. "So…?"

"So, you better not run away again."

His grin was instant, and before I could say anything else, he pulled me into a tight hug, burying his face in my shoulder.

"I won’t," he promised. "Not again."

I let myself melt into his embrace, my heart finally at peace.

We broke the hug, but his gaze never left mine.

Before I knew it, I felt his hand on my cheek, gently pulling me in for a passionate kiss.

Damn. It really was worth the wait.

Eventually, we both pull away to catch our breaths.

"So, does this mean we’re together now?" Pablo asked, grinning.

"I don’t know," I teased. "Are you gonna ignore me and be stupid again?"

"No!"

"Then I guess so."

He smirked. "You could’ve just said you wanted to be my girlfriend, princesa."

"And give you the satisfaction? Never."

He groaned, flopping onto the couch dramatically.

"Great. I’m dating a menace."

I threw a pillow at him. "And I’m dating an idiot. Perfect match."

He caught the pillow, tossing it aside before grabbing my hand again, this time intertwining our fingers.

"Yeah," he murmured, looking at me with that familiar, warm gaze.

"Perfect match."

And for the first time in weeks, everything felt right again.

The end

[undomesticated-animal]

Honestly, body euphoria has done WONDERS for my ability to keep a physical self care routine, and I keep thinking back to Young Domi being so fucking OVERWHELMED by the thought of having to haul myself through the daily gauntlet of mirrors, lights, smells, self-shaming, and dysphoria inducing body modifictions made in a desperate bid to feel worthy of my skin. The idea that this could ever be anything but NEUTRAL AT BEST was laughable to me, so much so that I didn't even realize how terrified I felt by the possibility it could be real.

I can't go back and tell Past Domi all the things I understand now that I know would have mattered so much, but I can say them on the internet and maybe someone gets to learn them faster than I did.

Body euphoria isn't just for trans and intersex folks. And I mean this more than just "oh cis people should get gender ephoria too" (it's true!) because I also mean that the idea that body euphoria/dysphoria is neatly segmented up into little slices of life with no crossover is unrealistic and painful for everyone. Thinking that I was only allowed to care about my euphoria around gender actually made it REALLY hard to recognize I was having DYSphoria around my gender at all. After all, I avoided thinking about that in exactly the same ways I avoided thinking about the dysphoria around other aspects of my embodiment! I must just be bad at body positivity, "it's always easier to do for others than for myself 🤗 teehee" was a go to blow off for me when people asked me to confront how visibly uncomfortable I was in my body.

Because the thing is, it ISN'T easier to do for others than yourself. It really isn't. The part that's easier is avoiding the shame we feel about it. But once we confront the shame, loving your body is the easiest thing in the world. <- this is gonna be where Past Domi went "oh fuck this noise" and bounced but HEAR ME OUT

A body you cannot live with is a body you cannot care for, and a body you can't care for is a body you will almost always struggle to live with. This feedback loop is the CORNERSTONE of body dysphoria for a lot of people. It's a chicken and egg situation where it's nearly always going to be impossible to know what came first, but once either is present, the other will kick into gear to really hunker down in your psyche.

The feedback loop works the other direction too though. This is why people tell you to find the little things that make a tiny difference. They are (usually) not telling you that it'll be enough on its own, but every one of those you find uncovers new ones, and little by little you start feeling up to bigger pieces of self care because you've recovered enough to start putting int the front-loaded work for the worthwhile outcome

When that upwards feedback loop clicks? It's night and day. Like I genuinely don't know how to describe what it's like to just sort of.....wake up different. But it happens all the time, and it KEEPS happening. And you start to realize you're not "waking up different" you're just....getting to know yourself without feeling so uncomfortable with what you're learning that you shy away from yourself

I dunno man, I don't have a point here, but I've been processing old grief lately and the grief of how long I spent viciously hating myself and truly believing that's what neutrality feels like.....Little-Domi deserved better, and so do yall

[midnight-mourning]

Vessel for Your Good Intent

Okay the art's going to be late(r) BUT, enjoy this little thingy I've whipped up for you all. A little peak into one of the au's i'm keeping locked up in the drafts, hope you enjoy! Last one of @divinit3a's January Cafe Prompts

Words Chosen: serpetine, gold, pacts & deals, shapeshifter, precious

Word Count: 1715

"Make a deal with me."

You glance up from your book for a moment, over to the empty mirror. Feeling shy today, apparently. 

You chuckle, looking back down to continue reading. "I've already made a deal with you. Several, if I recall."

"Make another." He drawls, somewhere beside you now. If you had to guess, in the reflection of the clock sitting beside you.

"Why? I have no need for it at the moment." You peek up to see if you can catch him, but the clock holds nothing. "I take it you are then, was that last offering not enough for you? Feeling a bit peckish, love?" 

The tinge of a smirk grows on your face in that moment as the silence lengthens. He never did like it when you used his nicknames back at him. You go to stir your tea, only for a hand to grasp your wrist as you jump. Right. Silver. Reflective as anything else. 

Your surprise slips into annoyance, if only to help hide the racing of your heart a bit better. 

His words are a hiss in your ear now, sharp, a warning. "I don't rely on you, pet. This is just for fun fun fun, you know that."

"Just making sure." He releases you, slipping back into the shadows before you can catch a true glimpse, as usual. 

You reach for your tea again and take a sip, assuming the conversation is done with. 

"I meant it as an opportunity for you." In front of you, from the tea cup's reflection, startlingly you into almost spilling and making a fool of yourself. 

You frown now, staring directly at the small silhouette on the side of your cup. "Again, why? Business is good, my health is fine, what could you have that I'd want?" You wait a moment, then add. "Right at this moment." Given how your previous wording was received, you can tell he's being more particular today, and you have to be a bit more cautious. 

Not that you already weren't with his previous proposition. 

"Because I know you want more, and I'm in the mood to offer it." The small, shadowed figure shrugs. The ray-like projections from his head flit back and forth.

You tsk, setting the cup back now. "Well, I don't. You know that. I would have made a better deal if that was the case."

"That's the best part, though." Back to the mirror, the pale visage of his face sits in the corner, grin unwavering as ever. "You don't even have to give much at all. Practically a steal steal steal, just for you!"

"What's the catch?"

"No catch~"

You snort. "There's always a catch. Always."

The smile turns to a frown, then, a small grin. "Let me weave a story for you."

Your eyes widen. "No, you know I don't like it when—" Too late, his hands are over your eyes and your world is smothered in darkness. 

"Don't worry, I think you'll like this one."

"You say that every time..." You mutter. 

Just a quiet chuckle in response as the darkness starts to shift, lighten, become a scene. 

You've yet to get used to seeing yourself in an outside view like this. You're in your shop, hard at work organizing herbs and other ingredients. It's quiet, peaceful, but tiresome work. A shift. 

Now, you're in a larger space, grander, standing behind the counter as customers pour in and out of the busy location. You give directives to your full team of employees, who answer each order with obedient nods and words of acknowledgement. You're respected, admired for your work. People take pride in being able to visit your shop and buy your products. 

Another shift, a lavish party in some grand parlor, no, now a ballroom. You're the star of the evening, no one else can compare. Everyone there holds you in high regard, they're entranced. The gold and silver throughout the room cannot compare to your own radiance. 

Shift again, a surrounding of gold. Coins and treasures, you realize after a moment. All of yours, more than you can dream, more than you'll ever need. You have nothing to want for. 

Another. You're in your kitchen. It takes a moment to realize you're no longer watching, but living this one. There's the sound of feet pitter-pattering hurriedly down the stairs, a few children suddenly appearing and rushing past you with an exchange of giggles. Ready for breakfast and their days to start. 

As you face the stove again, a pair of arms wrap around your waist, a face burying into the side of your neck to press a kiss there. Some murmured apology you can't quite catch as your hand reaches up to grip one of the arms. The person, man, chuckles, releasing you to spin the two of you into a dance, humming a tune that's familiar and not at the same time. 

The children from before laugh from the other side of the room, sounding further off than that. You have everything you could ever want. Fame, fortune, notoriety, a family, someone who loves you—

"That's enough." You whisper, finally looking up into the golden eyes of the man. Serpentine. Out of place on his otherwise human appearance. "I thought I told you to stay out of my head."

The eyes widen, the smile on his face slipping. "I was just—it wasn't meant like that."

"It certainly seemed like it." You step back, crossing your arms over your chest as a poor attempt to shelter yourself. 

He frowns now, seeming to be thinking as he too, steps back. Leaning against the opposite counter. 

With his focus elsewhere, it all seems to freeze. Even the air itself seems to pause. 

He glances back to you after a moment. "Pacts, deals, bargains, they're... the typical way to be able to express ou-my, desires. They're the only way, for that matter." That last bit is muttered, softer than should be possible for a demon. And yet.

"You could try just saying them outright." You offer with a quiet huff. "Though what more you could possibly want beyond my being, I'm more than just curious about."

He stands upright then, eyes wide. He nods, finger wagging as he takes a step towards you. "There, you've said it there. That's what I want. You. All of you. Whatever you'll let me have. I'll take it." 

"I already told you I have no need for—" You halt as your heart jumps to your throat, words dying as suddenly he takes your hand and brings it to his face, cradling it against his cheek. 

"Not like that. Not how you're thinking. More than that, you mean more than that. Precious. Irreplaceable. Let me prove it. Please." He falls to his knees, gripping your hand for dear life. The scene around you ripples. "Please just, make a deal with me. Please."

You can only stare down at him with a sense of horror and utter disbelief. "I think that's enough pretending, Shapeshifter. You've made your point. You don't need to wound my pride any further."

You knew that if enough time passed between deals a demon would become desperate, but this was absurd, even for the game he was playing. To be down on his knees, practically begging you, the little human bound to him and not vice versa, it was one hell of a way to toy with you. 

"This isn't a matter of pride." The grip on your hand tightens, the scene wobbles dangerously. His next words are seething. "Is it so hard to believe I'm speaking with a sense of genuinity?" 

You look around for anything to pull you out of this fantasy entirely, relying on your words for the moment to keep the tension from falling. "Of course it is! You didn't just ask me that, did you? After all you've done? After what you've—" You find what you've been searching for, the weight of the small bottle heavy in your pocket. You grip it with your free hand, pushing the cork out with your thumb. 

"I, you're not, but I don't, this isn't..." He can't seem to find the words, but it's the, utter devastation in his tone that makes you hesitate then. 

You keep the bottle in your hand, looking down at him with a hardened gaze. "Can you say, with absolute certainty. That anything you've said to me is completely and entirely genuine? That you’ve meant it wholeheartedly, with no ill-intent?"

A moment. You give him just a moment. 

For you think if you gave him anything more you'd hear a response you can't handle. 

You rip the bottle from your pocket and splash the water over him, the effect is near instant. He hisses as steam rises from his form, now cowering against the pain as the scene starts to collapse in on itself. You need to be quick. 

The half-empty bottle smashes to the ground, and you kneel in front of him, picking up one of the broken pieces.

He catches on instantaneously. "Wait, don't—" 

You use it to prick your finger, hovering it above his ever-changing form. Switching between the illusion and reality. 

It takes a moment, but finally, a few drops fall down onto him, and he stabilizes with a gasp. 

The fantasy collapses completely and you suddenly find yourself back in your chair, having to take deep breaths to center yourself again. Once you do so, your eyes dart around the room, looking into each reflective surface. 

Not the mirror, not the clock, not the spoon, not the cup. A flash of fear wells up in you, you don't dwell on it. Come on, where—

"That stung." You turn. 

The window. 

You don't hide your relief, shoulders sagging. "That was the point."

You watch the faint shadowed form, faint, but only because of the light streaming in. Not wavering, not weak. 

"Thank you." He states, disappearing without another word. 

You wait a moment, and realize that he's actually gone this time. 

For now. 

You sit back in the chair, running a hand through your hair with a sigh. Then you pause, pulling your hand back to examine it. 

No mark. Not even the hint of a scar. 

You don't know what to make of that. 

And that's all you get for now, back into the drafts it goes, had a lot of fun writing for these prompts, can't wait to see what comes next :)

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist

[b3ach-bunn7]

STEPHANIE

Gojo is your physics tutor and you’re sort of in love with him

Textfic, fluff, Highschool!au

(art Creds to @/eldritcheaven on twitter!)

—————————————————————————-

September 16th

5:38 pm

You: hiyaaa :D

You: is this Gojos number? Shoko says u can tutor me 😙

Gojo: whats the tutoring for

You: uh school?

Gojo: I mean what subject..?

You: OH LMAO

You: physics :((

Gojo: okay

Gojo: who r u again

You: Y/N

Gojo: okay meet me at the library Thursday after school

You: okayyy see u there 😁

September 18th

6:40 pm

You: gojo how am I gonna finish all this work BY MONDAY

Gojo: that’s three days

Gojo: this is easy stuff

You: FOR YOU

You: I have cheerleading until seven tomorrow night and Saturday

Gojo: okay..

Gojo: that’s my problem how?

You: okay just say u hate me

Gojo: I hate you

You: whatever

September 21st

1:06 am

You: IM DONE!

You: r u impressed

Gojo: no

You: wtf

Gojo: bring it to me at lunch so I can grade it

You: okayyyy

You: goodnight 🩷

Seen

September 21st

1:40 pm

You: GOJO WHERE R U

Gojo: in the library

You: why aren’t u in the cafeteria

Gojo: because it’s too noisy

Gojo: I can’t read in there

You: ha ha nerddd

Gojo: shut up and hurry up.

You: Okayyyy okay

You: Can u see me 🤔

Gojo: no the bright orange cheerleading costume is really hard to miss

You: 😒

You: So is the bone white hair and glasses

Gojo: hurry up

September 21st

8:12 pm

Gojo: ur so shit at physics

You: Uhm okay

You: thanks? 😭

Gojo: im sorry that was rude

Gojo: fear not that’s why I’m here

You: okay

Gojo: don’t worry it’s nothing my genius can’t fix

You: try not brag challenge fail

Gojo: you free tomorrow?

You: I should be yeah

Gojo: okay come to the library after school

You: can’t wait… 😔

September 22nd

4:06pm

You: Gojo

You: GOJO

Gojo: you are literally in front of me speak

You: nk the librarian is looking at me 😓

Gojo: okay so what

You: don’t look so annoyed at me

Gojo: im not annoyed at u

You: okay fine

You: do u have a highlighter

Gojo: …

You: DONT ROLL UR EYES AT ME

Gojo: there is LITERALLY ONE RIGHT IN FRONT OF U

You: omg ur first caps lock 🙁🩷 I’m so proud

Gojo: stop laughing

You: I’m sorry u look so angry over a highlighter..

You: and I can see you smiling too 😒

Gojo: shut up.

September 23rd

7:06 pm

You: Nerdjo I have a question

Gojo: never call me that

You: 😒😒okay.. can I ask u a question now

Gojo: if it’s about the work I gave u just wait until Friday

You: UTS NOT

Gojo: oh

Gojo: okay what

You: would you rather only drink water for the rest of ur life or be allowed to drink anything you like but it always has to have a drop of pee in it

Gojo: where is the pee coming from

You: You don’t know..

Gojo: is it healthy pee

Gojo: because if not then idk what’s in it and I could contract a disease like typhoid or smth

Gojo: and also utis and that’s painful enough as is without me drinking to catch it

Gojo: also how much is a drop

Gojo: is it a ratio thing? So every 1% of any drink I drink is pee or is it always a drop

Gojo: because in that case I can just drink a lot of smth and the pee will cancelled out

You: wtf

Gojo: sorry I’m rambling

You: No.. don’t apologise.. U have opened my eyes

You: I never thought of it like that

You: Also do u think it would like make my drink yellow..

You: Cause that’s GEROOSS

You: voice note elapsed: 00:40

Gojo: voice note elapsed 1:02

September 24th

2:06 pm

You: IM SO EMBARASSED

You: Walk of shame to my seat in my cheerleading outfit god TAKE ME

Gojo: ha ha ha

Gojo: don’t be late next time

You: Shut up

You: I hate Yaga and he hates me

Gojo: he loves me

You: yeah cause ur good at physics and I’m poo at it

Gojo: better focus then

You: okay

September 24th

2:20pm

You: Gojo

You: Gojo

You: NERDJO!!

Gojo: stop texting me

You: move u bag from the chair next to u

Gojo: what???

You: MOVE IT

You: I’m coming to sit next to you

Gojo: tf why

You: the guy next to me won’t shut up

You: and I need ur nerd aura to make me smarter

Gojo: ur so stupid

Gojo: hurry up then

You: WOPPEE OMW

September 25th

1:06 am

You: Gojo r u awake

Gojo: we have school tmrw go to sleep

You: U R 😏

Gojo: freak

Gojo: what do u want

You: I’m bored

You: And I’m confused on question three on the history hw 😓

Gojo: okay..

Gojo: ask me tomorrow

You: Or I can call u rn an u can help me..?

Gojo: .

You: PLEEEEAAAAAAAAAAASE 🙏

Gojo: you have ten minutes

You: YAY

Gojo and Y/N

25/9/2024 Time elapsed: 30:07

September 25th

11:05 am

You: GOJOOOO

You: Can I sit with u in econ today 😏

Gojo: what do u need help with now

You: Uhmmm I don’t need help

You: I just wanna sit with u..

Gojo: oh

Gojo: okay

You: YIPPEEEE

September 26th

12:21 pm

Gojo: YOU WATCH ANIME??????

You: WHY R U YELLING 😭😭

You: Yes… it’s my deep dark secret don’t tell anyone 😔

Gojo: okay with the sasuke keyring on ur bag…

You: LOL

You: how did you even see it where r u..

Gojo: stalking you in the corridors watch out

You: Okay Joe from you

Gojo: ur living ur own Netflix series rn 🩷

You: EMOJIS???

You: Who r u and where’s Gojo gone??!?££?

You: Whats ur favourite anime

Gojo: voice note elapsed: 1:34

September 28th

2:06 am

Gojo: do u think time travel is real

Gojo: or like will be real in the future

Gojo: I feel it could be because like we just advance in technology more and more as time goes by

Gojo: like if u said FaceTime would be a think in 1920 they’d probably hang u

Gojo: there was that Stephen hawking thing he did with like the party invite but

Gojo: if I was from the future I wouldn’t time travel just to prove him right like u just have an ego now

Gojo: food for thought 🩷

September 28th

7:21 am

You: SORRY I WAS AT PRAVTISE and U messaged me at like one am?)

You: But I thinking about you the whole time

Gojo: awwwww youre making me blush

You: SHURRUP

You: i was thinking about ur question not u

Gojo: same thing kinda

You: enough

You: voice note elapsed: 00:54

Gojo: girl u r not Snow White dinosaurs will eat u

You: We will find out when I time travel to the Jurassic era and kiss one

September 29th

3:37 PM

Gojo: why do u keep staring at me do ur work

You: Cause i have a question for u but im shy..🥺🥺

Gojo: EW cringe

Gojo: just ask me

You: You keep looking at me with those bombastic blue eyes im nervous

Gojo: ur so dramatic

You: DONT LAUGH AT ME

Gojo: so text me then

You: okay….

You: We have a pep rally soon can u come

Gojo: was that it..

You: YES

Gojo: girl im coming anyway geto is playing

You: UR FRIENDS WITH GETO???

Gojo: hes my best friend

You: Wait thats true ur always together

You: You know allll the girls on my team have a phat crush on him🤧

Gojo: mhm

Gojo: and are you one of those girls?

You: Nah hes not my type

Gojo: and what is ur type

You: Boys with bombastic blue eyes😏

You: R U BLUSHINGGGG

Gojo: shut up and do ur work

September 30th

9:45 pm

Gojo: ar eu home

You: Yeah why..

Gojo: play roblox with me

You: LOL

You: How’d u know im a gaymer..

Gojo: hoe u is not a gaymer

You: HEY

You: ill have u know im plat on overwatch..?

Gojo: wait actually

You: Actually

Gojo: ….

Gojo: HOP ON OW

You: Uhm sorry i cant im doing the hw my annoying tutor sent me

Gojo: im sure ur sexy smoking hot tutor will let u off this time

You: YAY

Gojo and Y/N

30/9/2024 Time elapsed: 3:46:07

October 1st

12:34 pm

Gojo: pep rally in five days

Gojo: r u nervous

You: Gojo texting me in school..?

Gojo: dont change the subject sweetheart

You: POO

You: Im scared yeah

You: I always am before a game tho

You: Like what if my shirt slips when I’m flipping and i flash my bra

Gojo: the game will get ten times better?

You: HEY

Gojo: JOKUNG IM JOKING

You: As an apology take me out for lunch today 😙

Gojo: ugh fine

You: XD

October 2nd:

2:07 pm

You: WHERE R U

You: GOJO

Gojo: me and geto went out for lunch

You: COME BACK NOW

Gojo: are you okay????

You: YES I WANNA GIVE U A HUG AND A KISS

Gojo: are you having a stroke??

You: SHOKO GAVE ME THE KEYRING

You: A LITTLE NARUTO TO MATCH MY SASUKEEE

You: THANK U SM

Gojo: ur welcome

You: 😁😁😁

You: Bring me back a coke

Gojo: ugh fine

Gojo: do i still get that hug and kiss

You: hmmm I’ll see

October 3rd:

10:21 am

You: image attachment

You: LOOK LOOK LOOK

Gojo: WELL DONE

You: A BBBBBB

You: IN PHYSICSS WHO AM I

Gojo: WELL DONE

You: Thanks for the tutoring🤤

Gojo: wait im the goat

You: hoe EYE am the goat..?

Gojo: i guess it was a team effort

You: Yeah duh

Gojo: good job sweetheart

You: 😁😁😁😁

October 3rd:

9:06 pm

You: ik we had plans but let me come home then we can play

You: Practise ran so late sorry pookie

Gojo: wait ur at school rn??

You: Yes….. kms shortly😔

Gojo: how r u getting home?

You: Walking

Gojo: girl..?

You: My parents r working and i cant drive leave me ALONE

Gojo: wait im coming to get u

You: You dont need to do that gojo

Gojo: i do im omw

You: OKay

You: Btw i like ur new glasses

Gojo: u noticed?

Gojo: stop staring at me all the time omg..

You: I cant help it

You: i love u and all four of ur bombastic blue eys

Gojo: not picking u up anymore

You: IM SORRRY🙏🙏🙏🙏

You: PLZ COME MY KNIGHT IN SHINING GLASSES

You: PLEASEEEE

Gojo: ughhh fineee

Gojo: just because u begged so nicely

You: ahahahah SHUT UP

October 3rd

10:15 pm

Gojo: r u home

You: u literally just watched me walk through my door

Gojo: so..

Gojo: what if someone took u from inside

You: Ur right hoe…

Gojo: im always right

You: Yeah yeah freaking nerd

Gojo: dont hate me cause u aint me

Gojo: ima graduate cum laude in the future

You: Why u talkign about cum u freak

Gojo: shut up

You: cum laude more like cum load 🤣🤣

Gojo: i hate u

You: LMAOOO

You: Ik ur laughng rn

You: Call me

Gojo: say please

You: Please call me four eyes🤞

Gojo and Y/N

03/10/2024 Time elapsed: 4:20:07

October 4th

3:47 am

Gojo: omg did I tell you

Gojo: I was reading this essay on behavioural psychology and it was talking about how like the concept of territoriality in humans it’s so interesting

Gojo: it’s related to how primates make their space

Gojo: not like actually of course nobody is peeing anywhere

Gojo: it’s also related to quantum physics in an weird way

Gojo: voice note elapsed: 2:12

October 4th

7:54 am

You: Whatever you say gorgeous 🙏🙏🙏

You: THATS COOL THO A

You: I got like a quarter of what u said but icloveee psychology

You: I wanna study it at university

You: my fav part is attachment and like child development and stuff

You: so ur next rant topic is going to be about that thanks 🩷

Gojo: did u actually listen to all that

Gojo: sorry I get carried away

You: Duh I listened and don’t apologise or ill shoot u

Gojo: thanks 🩷

Gojo: i bought u a coffee

You: YAYY

You: I’ll meet u at the entrance

October 5th

1:07 am

Gojo and Y/N

05/10/2024 Time elapsed: 2:39:07

Gojo: good luck for tomorrow

You: Thank u 😁

You: I’m gonna need it…

Gojo: shut up ur gonna do fine

Gojo: I’ll cheer u on from the stands

You: YAY

October 6th

3:54 pm

Gojo: get off ur phone and lock in

You: I CANT FIND U

Gojo: I’m like the third row from the bottom

Gojo: next to Shoko

You: I SEE U

You: I recognise those bombastic blue eyes anywhere🩷🩷🩷🩷

Gojo: awww is that big smile all for me

You: Shut it

You: Are those big flowers all for me??? 😁

Gojo: no they’re for the huzz

You: What if I kill you?

Gojo: plz don’t

Gojo: they are for u

You: Ur such a nerd

You: Thank u 😏

You: Ur coming to getos after right??

Gojo: yes

You: Good

Gojo: but

You: Butbwhat

Gojo: we could hang out instead

Gojo: just me and you

You: Are u asking me out on a date gojo????

Gojo: yeah kinda

You: I can see u blushing from over here

You: DONT TURN AROUJD

You: Ofc I’d rather hang out with u

You: See u after the rally😙😙😙😙

Gojo: good luck

Gojo: u look pretty in ur uniform

You: Thwnk u 😁😁😁

—————————————————————————

NERDJJO ONE CHANCE PLEASEEEE 🤞🤞🤞😓🥺 these text fics r so fun to write oh my sigma..

guys I know Gojo was kinda mean at first but he thought u were using him for his smarts… also idk I headcanon that he’s not as energetic as he is canonically.. like u think hes always bragging and dry but hes actually just itching to tell u facts about quantum physics

I HOOE U ALL ENJOYED 🩷 as always drop any asks in my inbox !!!!