#Ever Heard of Dark Humor | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anisespice · 7 months ago

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“ baby steps ” || tokyo rev.

continuation of this post.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, ANGST w/ comfort (mostly in mikey's), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be A LOT of errors :// mikey's is LONG, ran + sanzu's are silly goofy, mikey + sanzu's are a lil unhinged lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: can i just say thank y'all so much for showing "accidents happen" the love that i didn't think it would get, it was made on a whim so i'm so so so happy y'all enjoyed! i tagged as many as i could (or that tumblr would allow) sorry if i missed some of you :( thank you for your patience and let me know how you feel about this continuation format :) !! notes ii: also also, pt. 2 for "accidents happen" coming soon! notes iii: MY COMPUTER CRASHED AND I THOUGHT I LOST EVERYTHING BUT IT'S OKAY IT'S OKAY :'))))

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow , @captaincyberqueen , @cherryblossiren , @niragiswhore , @awkwardaardvarkforever , @valentsoup , @lovely212 , @miffysoo , @yandere-kouhai , @i-am-just-a-girl-ur-honor , @wisteriarose214 , @kindadolly , @yuwaimo , @sweetbella1221 , @simpingfor-wakasa , @sirachano0dles , @yutahg , @slowlikehonee , @blurpleuni-squid , @haruchiyoreen , @istanstraykidss , @loyard176 , @msluccapotato , @luv444lay , @backgroundcharactera , @jegelskeranime

Ever since you picked up your daughter, there’s been a hovering presence that wouldn’t go away no matter where you went. From the park, to the grocery store, all the way home it clung to you like a bad itch. Despite looking over your shoulder and being met without any sort of threat, that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling. And it only intensified when you received a knock on your front door.

You made a confused hum, checking the time on the microwave to confirm that it was indeed past the reasonable hour for potential visitors. Not to mention, you weren’t expecting anyone.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, instincts telling you that something wasn’t right, that your best option was to pretend you weren’t home. However, the person on the other side knew otherwise as they knocked on the door again, this time with more fervor. You inhaled sharply, taking hesitant steps towards the door until you were mere feet away from it. Eventually, you worked up the courage to look through the peephole, your brows furrowing in distress when all you could see was black—They were covering it. All the more reason not to open the door…

What if it’s a robber? Ridiculous, they don’t knock.

What if it’s just the neighbor? Why cover the peephole?

More and more did your mind swirl with endless possibilities, each one becoming less and less believable. Taking a long, deep breath, you doubled-checked the door-chain was on before slowly cracking it open. And as you attempted to peek through the sliver, nothing could’ve prepared you for the arm that forced its way through, startling you as you yelped, stumbling back as it made a grab at you.

Before you had the thought of shoving the door closed on the offender’s arm they grabbed the little chain, then yanked it clean out of the wall. To your terror, a dark hooded figure entered your home, head hung low, concealing their identity.

You began to hyperventilate, backing up to keep distance as they staggered further into your home before kicking the door closed behind them, effectively blocking you from the exit. Surely, someone heard your scream and would check in, or call the police. But, how long did you have before the intruder decided to make a move? Not to mention, your sleeping child just down the hall…

With that last thought in mind, you immediately steeled your nerves.

Even if you had to use your bare hands, you were going to do whatever it took to keep your baby out of harms way.

You reached for the closest weapon without taking your eyes off the figure, hands clasping onto a discarded umbrella that was leaned up against a closet door. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. Taking a defensive stance, you prepared for what you assumed to be the inevitable.

“I-I don’t know who you are, or what you want…b-but if you don’t leave…my..my boyfriend will be home any minute! H-He knows how to fight, and he’ll fuck you up if you try anything!”

Your means of intimation fall on deaf ears. It were as if you hadn’t spoken at all. They just…stood there. Watching you from the darkness. That feeling, that hovering presence you’d been weary about all evening…there was no doubt in your mind it was because of this individual. Suddenly, they gave a watery chuckle, hand coming up to rub the lower half of their face as the chilling noise dissipated into soft snickers.

You sweatdropped. “I mean it! He’ll be here real soon, so you better get out of here before-”

“[_____]…” the figure finally rasped, voice heavy with an emotion you couldn’t decipher in the moment. You froze, eyes widening.

“…How the hell do you know my name?”

Without much urgency, they stepped forward into the light. Beneath the warm glow, it took you mere seconds to recognize the person standing before you. You gasped, trembling hands dropping the umbrella, it landing with a harsh clatter. Soft, mortified hitches in your breath echoed through the small space, memories flashing before your eyes as you covered your gaping mouth.

“M.. Ma..” you whimpered, throat tightening. A shell of a man, who gazed upon you with stormy eyes flooded with tears at the mere sight of you.

He gave another strained laugh, muttering to himself as he soaked you all in. “Needed to know.. Needed to know it was really you…”

Mikey eyed you up, intensely, eerily silent as he did so. Then, he took in the surroundings, the warmth, the interior, the smell of dinner—It truly felt like a home. A bitter pill to swallow once he reminded himself that you built it without him.

His sharp gaze returned to your stunned expression. He sneered.

“Must’ve been easy for you. To forget me and move on, just like that. Like I was nothing.”

You blinked, taken aback. All you could do was remain speechless, cemented to the ground with thoughts and questions racing in your head. Now matter how many times you opened your mouth, no sound would come out aside from choked whimpers.

“Do you know…how long I’d been searching for you? Been mourning for you?” He hissed through clenched teeth. “When you left, I thought… I thought someone had taken you. That I lost you all because I was too stubborn to say I’m sorry…”

As he spoke, Mikey slowly closed the space between you. The more he came into the light, the more you could see how the years had treated him. His cheekbones were more pronounced, the dark circles under his eyes as well. His lips were dry, cracked, his fair skin now ghoulishly pale. If not for the black hoodie you would’ve mistaken him as such; ghost of your past.

Your shoulders shook, hands hovering over your face as you gaped in disbelief. He’d been looking for you?

That night, that stupid fight you could barely remember…he made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with you. He pushed you away. Pushed so hard that you almost believed he really wouldn’t have cared if you dropped dead. You knew he didn’t mean it, knew it was just another dark impulse…but none of that mattered when all your pregnancy tests came back positive just hours prior.

That night, you made the decision for the sake of your daughter. And also, for his sake. At the time, you were certain he wasn’t ready to be a father. He was quick to rage, merciless, losing himself to the darkness you tried to protect him from. If you had stayed, you were certain Mikey would’ve never forgiven himself if he lost control in front of his own flesh and blood, if the child grew to resent him for something he struggled to control.

You thought you were doing him a favor…but it appears to have done the opposite.

“And this whole time…you’ve been here, alive. Playing fucking house with someone else.”

You stiffened. Someone else? Your visible confusion only irritated him further.

He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You said it yourself. Too bad he won’t be coming home anytime soon. I’ve already got Sanzu and the Haitanis looking around for the bastard. And when they find him, I’ll make him regret sticking his filthy dick inside you.”

Confusion morphed into realization. You did threaten him with said hypothetical boyfriend…But, that was before you knew it was him!

“Oh, Manjiro…” you whispered. He glared, scorned.

“Don’t you dare pity me. I mean, you got the family you always wanted, right? So who cares who it was with, right? Congratu-fucking-lations.”

You shook your head, exhaling deeply as you held your face in your hands. For years, he thought you dead. Then, when he received word of your appearance, he finds you with child. And not once did he consider that child to be his? It’s like…he couldn’t fathom the thought.

If only he had looked just a little bit closer, he would’ve seen that she had his eyes. How they resembled those pools of ink that used to shine with so much hope back in his youth, so playful and full of love…those same eyes that now gazed upon you with contempt.

It stung.

He thought so low, not only of himself, but of you as well.

Taking a deep breath to reel in your emotions, tears began to well up in your eyes. He assumed they were tears for your doomed lover, further breaking his heart as Mikey clenched his fists to the point of nearly drawing blood. Luckily, even though you struggled to find the right words, someone else happily found them for you.

“Papa..?”

Both of you instantly drew your attention on the toddler standing near the kitchen, one fist clutching her blanket while the other rubbed the sleep from her eye. You glanced at Mikey, and he was stiller than stone. His once dead-stare had morphed into what could only be described as incredulous. Surely, he heard her incorrectly…

With a sniffle, you crouched down to address her, offering a soft grin as you nodded earnestly. “That’s right, sweetheart. Papa’s finally come home.”

The little girl blinked sleepily, taking a second to reboot. But, as soon as the words registered, a bright smile stretched across her face as she excitedly rushed towards Mikey, throwing herself onto his legs and hugging them like a koala as she chirped, “Papa, home!”

Said man hobbled a bit at the force, arms windmilling as he caught himself to keep from falling backwards. He didn’t know what to do with himself, especially when those big, round pools of ink opened and stared right up into his soul. Mikey’s heart nearly stopped. With a hitch in his breath, the gangster did everything he could to hold his composure, looking between you and the child as you both gazed at him with so much warmth…it was suffocating.

Sensing he was overwhelmed, you reached down to scoop up the bubbly bundle, holding her close as you eyed Mikey, apprehensively.

He resembled a cornered animal—Muscles stiff, jaw tight, eyes wild. After a moment, Mikey began to slowly back away into the shadows of your home, conflicted, devastated. It wasn’t until his back hit the door did he eventually fall to his ass, of which caused your child to giggle at how silly he was being. However, all you could do was hold back tears, watching as the reality started to weigh down on a man who just discovered he was a father.

Nervous, you gently explained. “I didn’t leave you because of our spat, Jiro…and I never moved on. I just…thought that I’d be doing more harm than good sticking around when I found out I was pregnant…I didn’t want to add any more stress on your plate, so I…”

Mikey didn’t respond. He sat there, stare vast and unfocused. But, you knew he hung on to every word. So you continued. “I wanted to tell you. But…I wasn’t sure how. At the time, I believed you had stopped caring about me altogether. And to hear you’d been looking for me, I-I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you harbored all that guilt. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”

Your daughter wiggled around in your hold, making small grunts in complaint. Her eyes were trained on his figure huddled in the dark, wanting to be acknowledged, wanting his attention. “Papa!”

Mikey flinched. He focused his gaze on the two you, haloed by the light emitting from the living room. You both were like salvation, reaching down to a broken sinner…How could she want anything to do with him? When he had missed so much already…

To keep from accidentally dropping her, you placed your daughter back on the ground, watching wearily as she wobbled all the way to Mikey, blanket in tow. You weren’t worried about him hurting her, far from it…if anything, he appeared to be the fragile one.

Eventually, she made it to her destination, standing before him with a curious, but eager expression as she rested a hand on his knee. Mikey watched her, took in all of her features, every last detail as he engraved it to memory. She was beautiful, just like her mother. One would think his genes didn’t stand a chance. But the eyes. That was all him. From his mother to his older brother to himself, there was no doubt in his mind that those were Sano eyes.

His lower lip quivered, reaching out hesitantly to caress her cheek. She didn’t cower away, merely babbled as she began patting his knee, allowing his thumb to rub over her chubby cheek. You clasped your hands over your mouth, growing even more emotional at the delicate moment. Mikey looked enamored already, eyes subtly sparkling from what you could see as they interacted.

“I-I told her stories, about you. And I made sure to show her photos, too. Old ones, but still you nonetheless. I wanted her to know who her father truly was. Despite everything else…”

Your daughter cooed, then placed her blanket in Mikey’s lap before climbing into it. Mikey didn’t dare move, rigid as she made herself comfortable. He looked up at you, looking for guidance, for reassurance. Your encouraging smile was enough for him to hesitantly place his hands on her small back for support, carefully adjusting so that she was stable. She laid her head on his chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, sighing contentedly.

And, for the first time in years, he smiled.

When you hadn’t seen her familiar pigtails bobbing around, or heard any of her excited chatter with the receptionist up front, worry couldn’t even begin to describe what you felt the moment you realize…your daughter wasn’t here.

As soon as the meeting looked like it was wrapping up, you politely excused yourself from the room. Masking your worry wasn't too difficult, but there's no doubt a couple people might've noticed the spring in your step as you exited. One of them being Rindou Haitani. He watched you speed down the hall with mild interest, corner of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly as he thumbed around on his phone beneath the table. Having been updating his older brother during the meeting while he was on his smoke break, he was more than eager to inform him of the storm that was no doubt heading his way.

Little did the younger Haitani know, he was already dealing with one.

"And then, Haruka-kun tries to take Momo-kun's bento box because she had cuter animal shapes, but Momo-kun already said no, and so Haruka-kun pushes Momo-kun, and then tries to take it! But I pushed him and hit him with my fist, like this," she clenched up her tiny fist and held it up to Ran before striking down on his forearm with all her might. It didn't even pitch. "Like that."

The lavender-eyed man merely gazed upon her with mirth. "Did you now?"

"Mmhm! And teacher got so mad, and said that she would tell Ma about me fighting, but she's stupid because Ma didn't pick me up today, and I told Haruka-kun if he snitches, I'll beat 'em up!"

Ran lowly whistled. "Quite the little menace, ain'tcha?"

She pumped her fists. "Yeah!" Then, she paused, holding a finger to her chin in thought. "Wait...what's a menace?"

"Ah, something you inherited from your old man." He ruffled her hair, much to her displeasure. Though her innocent jab earlier regarding his age still hit a sore spot, he was starting to like the sound of it. She, on the other hand, wasn't convinced.

"I already told you; Ma was on her happy juice when she said that. She said not to believe anything she says when she's on happy juice. It makes her do silly things."

Ran chuckled. He knew that all too well. The little girl wouldn't be in this world if not for your inability to hold your liquor. But judging based on how you've raised her so far, clearly you made the right decision keeping him in the dark.

He'll admit, he wasn't the best in terms of commitment. Throughout his day to day, Ran just didn't have the energy. With being in Bonten, keeping an eye out for his younger brother, handling business, dealing with numbskulls and disposing of their bodies, there was never a time to even consider settling down. One-night stands and on and off flings were the easiest choice. At least, until he stumbled upon you.

You were the whole package and more. Classy, independent, witty, and a looker to top it all off. When Bonten started collaborating with the organization you worked in, he couldn't help but to be drawn to you—Like a moth to a flame. It started out as the occasional bantering, trying to one-up the other, catch them off guard. Ran was smooth with his words but could never quite beat your sharp tongue. Thus, things escalated to something more flirtatious. Harmless, but it didn't take long before the months of tension between the both of you began boiling over...and throwing alcohol into the mix, it was the first time Ran finally felt like he had the upper hand. Seeing how poorly you handled just a few glasses of wine, it endeared him. Seeing a piece of you that no one else had the privilege to witness. Your sloppy side, the clumsy, whiny, touchy side. After that long, passionate night beneath the sheets, the one time you and Ran allowed yourselves the space to be vulnerable with one another...you found yourself pregnant. And Ran found himself being nonethewiser.

He wonders, if he hadn't left the next morning and completely ghosted you...would you have kept him in the picture?

Suddenly, his phone dings. Reaching back to pull it from his back pocket, Ran half expected it to just be another update on the meeting or Rindou cursing at him to hurry his ass back inside. But, it wasn't that at all. And at the sound of your kitten heels rushing out of the building and halting at the top of the steps, Ran didn't even need to look up to know who was glowering down from them.

"Hey, Ma! Guess what, the purple man isn't such a meanie after all!"

Ran snorted, finally looking up from his phone to greet the woman who not only still had his heart, but evidently his first child. You, on the other hand, weren't so thrilled to see him.

"Rika. Wait inside. Ma's got some words for the purple man."

He smirked. "Wanna say 'em over a glass of wine?"

"You son of a-!"

"Bad word!" Your daughter covered her ears. You flushed, your composure nearly slipping just by being in his prescence. Ran, immediately seeing the opportunity, teasingly pouts at you whilst covering her tiny hands with his larger ones, shielding her.

"Honey, please, not in front of the child. Can't have her repeating those dirty words at school, can we?"

You fumed, speaking through clenched teeth. "Haitani, as soon as I get her in this building, away from you, I swear to God, I'm gonna wring your neck."

He hummed, amused. "Well. Guess she didn't get her violent side from me after all. Speaking of which, did you know at school today-"

"Hey! No snitching!"

“...What did you say?”

You were hoping you heard the teacher wrong. Surely it was just your exhaustion taking the wheel. But, when her kind smile didn’t falter, nor did her gushes for the supposed “adorable display”, you immediately grew suspicious.

While heading home from work, you went to pick up your children from daycare. And when you arrived, the teacher merely informed you that it was already taken care of by your very handsome and very devoted husband.

“I-I think you’re mistaken. My boyfriend and I aren’t married…”

The teacher, finally coming back down to earth, tilted her head in confusion. “Eh? You aren’t?”

“Did he…say we were?”

“Well, no. I just assumed since it was easy to tell who he was here for. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.”

You choked on your spit. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.

You did everything in your power to keep from strangling the poor woman. Sure, she didn’t do anything wrong per say…but she sure did make a grave error. And your struggle to restrain your intrusive thoughts must’ve shown on your face from the way she placed a concerned hand on your arm. “Are you alright, miss? You look like you’re about to faint.”

“M-Mhm, yep, great, just peachy.” You squeaked through clenched teeth, sweatdrop on your forehead. “Could you um…confirm something for me?”

“Uh.? Er, sure. I’ll try my best.”

With tense shoulders and a tight smile, you asked, “Their…father…did his mouth have two scars in the corners?”

The teacher blinked, confused. Shouldn’t you already know that answer yourself?, she was probably thinking. And she would be right; you did know. But her simple, hesitant nod was the final nail in the coffin that was your delusion—Haruchiyo Sanzu had found you. And to make matters worse, he had the children.

Your smile faltered, twitching ever so slightly. Covering it with a forced chuckle, you cried, “Oh, that’s..wonderful! He’s always been self conscious about them, and I’m j-just.. beaming with joy that he’s embracing them more. Have a nice evening, Ms. Yuki.”

The teacher didn’t get a chance to respond as you quickly turned on your heel and began speed walking home. You’d apologize for your abrupt exit another day…right now there were more important matters to worry about. For instance—How on earth did Sanzu find you? How did he know about the twins and where they were? Oh, God…did he know about Satoru?

Dialing him up a few times only for the calls to go straight to voicemail weren’t reassuring in the slightest, having you rush across oncoming traffic just so you could avoid any further delays for your fraying nerves. You could see your apartment complex up ahead, heart thumping in your throat at the familiar, black SUV parked a couple blocks down. Had it not been for the heavily tinted windows and no license plates, you probably would’ve overlooked it. He knew where you lived. Stomach in knots, muscles stiff, nerves shot. You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or devastated. Your kids were safe at home, but at what cost? You stood in front of the building, rooted to the ground. Despite mentally preparing for this exact scenario for years, it all went down the drain the second you went to that daycare and discovered your children were missing.

It wasn’t until your phone vibrated did you snap out of your thoughts, shakily pulling the device out of your back pocket to check the notification.

from : unknown 1:06 pm “ hi, mama.~ ”

Your stomach twisted. Attached to the message were two photos.

The first photo was of your kids eating McDonald's in the kitchen, happily cheesing and waving at the camera. You couldn't hold your choked gasp, hand coming up to hold your quivering lower lip—They were safe.

The second photo...was of Satoru. Tied to a chair, gagged, and beaten senseless. And standing behind him, holding him by his hair so that he could pose for the camera, grinning like a cheshire cat...

Another message pops up. Your grip tightened around your phone.

from : unknown 1:09 pm " daddy's home.~ "

#🍁wasabi #*weakly holds up to the light*#it...is...FINISHED #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #mikey x reader #mikey sano #manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #ran x reader #ran haitani #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo

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i-like-loserz · 1 month ago

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honey, baby

synopsis: san needs your attention

pairing: husband!san x afab!reader

warnings: SMUT (18+), jealousy, handjob, begging, teasing, sub!san, dacryphilia, pet-names, house-wife!reader, messy endings, light marking kink, reader does not get off..., not proof-read :0

word count: 2.5k

note: i'm sorry, we all need some sub!san in our lives... right...

masterlist

How delicate his hand is, adorned handsomely with understated rings, pressing gently against the small of your back as he leads you through the room. Artificial chatter, decorated with an occasional bout of posh laughter, settles finely above the jazz playing in the background.

Your heels click softly against the marble flooring, each step lining up perfectly with his.

Together, you’re a vision of excellence.

San is the man that everyone wants. The definition of a gentleman. He’s charming, polite, and patient. But also unbelievably beautiful. He comes from a background of old money, but his legacy never stopped him from looking elsewhere for love.

Then there’s you. A woman who can blend into any crowd, disarming even the most stuck-up aristocrat with an easy smile. No one knows where you came from, but they don’t really care – or rather, they stopped caring once they realized how easily San would drop them for bothering you.

The two of you act as the personification of refined love.

Modest, refined, and lovely. Rarely sharing even a single kiss in front of an audience.

San nods to a few guests as he passes them, politely acknowledging their existence, but never making a move to engage with them. He exudes this aura of cool confidence – as if every breath he takes is calculated and perfected. This way, no one ever questions his decisions or fights his whims…not like you anyway.

The wine glass in your hand has a bare sip of red left in it. The rim is spotted with the seductive print of your lips, reflecting the small tastes you took throughout the night to keep yourself relatively sober.

You would have gone for another but a heated whisper, pressed exquisitely against the edge of your ear, drew away any thoughts of humoring your husband’s guests. You settle it gently on a counter, no longer needing the prop of a hostess.

San’s leading hand presses more insistently against back with each step he takes. His breaths grow deeper, his body draws closer.

Usually, he’s able to wait until the party ends – watching you with dark eyes as you see the last of the crowd off, thanking them for visiting with that polite smile you’ve perfected. You’re so good to him, putting up with the lifestyle he was born into and taking the role of the perfect housewife and hostess that pays attention to every need her guests have.

But now, San needs your attention to be directed at him.

—

He broke while you were in the middle of a conversation with somebody’s plus one. And San knows he was a plus one because he didn’t recognize the man…or his name…or his “successful tech” company.

He’s not usually a jealous man, but something about this guy…

San was sitting next to you, charming yet another investor of his father’s business, when he heard a low voice speaking to his beautiful wife, “Please, call me Yunho, Mr. Jeong is my father.”

It peeved him.

You laughed politely, displaying your easy going nature by complying with his wish, repeating his first name before offering your own. San bristled at the sound of another man’s name coming from your lips.

Who even is this guy?

There were no Jeongs on the guestlist – and he would know, he’s the one who checks off on that stuff. This is a business party, not some get together that can be crashed so unpleasantly by an overnight millionaire like him.

The investor he was once trying to woo was getting pulled into a different conversation. And thank god for that. He wouldn’t have been much fun to talk to when he’s distracted like this anyway.

San took that as an opportunity to turn his body toward yours. He watched intently as you continued your friendly interaction with a handsome stranger – who seems to be leaning closer with every pretty word you speak.

You looked effortlessly beautiful as you rambled about the recent trip he took you on, excitedly describing your favorite restaurants with that familiar brightness in your eyes. He’s suddenly longing to hold your hand right then and there, to pull you onto his lap and nuzzle his face against the crook of your neck.

His hand moved before he could think about it, gently brushing over your forearm to get your attention. When you turned to look at your husband, the man in front of you retreated from his slow shift into your space, suddenly uneasy by how San was staring him down.

“Honey?”

At the sound of your voice, he shifted his attention from the offending man to you, the tension in his shoulders easing at the affectionate pet-name. San rounded his eyes innocently, softening his expression.

“Baby…” He said timidly in a bare whisper, fully knowing that that name was strictly off-limits in public. You raise a questioning eyebrow, wondering what made your husband so needy all of the sudden.

“San.”

San leaned closer to you, a hand slowly shifting from the velvet couch to the top of your thigh. The guests continued to bustle around the two of you, unaware of the sudden tension settling between you. You let him push closer until his lips barely brush against ear.

“Pay attention to me…”

—

You’ve never left your own party early. You have actually trained yourself to have the same amount of energy greeting the guests as you do leading them out. The party doesn't end until you've seen everyone out.

So will anyone really notice a scant 15 minutes of your absence?

Well, you hope not.

San couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. Instead, he pulled you into an oversized laundry room at the end of the hall, sliding the door shut before you could protest about being too close to the party.

“Sannie, wait.”

Your words are lost to the air.

He’s already pressing desperate, hot kisses against your throat. His broad body effectively pins you to the door as his hands, itching to undress you, drag over your soft curves covered by the fine fabric of your dress. Eager fingers grope over your tits before settling delicately around the base of your neck.

His suit jacket rests in a heap on the floor, leaving him in his unbuttoned vest and wrinkled dress shirt – a view you’d love to devour if not for the people who stand on the other side of the door.

“Maybe we should stop –”

“I can’t, I-I need you, baby.” He’s begging you – each word pathetically whined out from his pouty lips. “Need you close to me.”

“What if they notice that we’re both gone? What if they come looking?”

Pitiful moans are pressed onto your skin as he helplessly grasps at your body, scared that you’d leave him wanting and overwhelmed by his need to feel you against him.

At this point, San wouldn’t care if the whole party saw him fucking you against the dining table – least of all that Yunho guy. He doesn’t care if they can hear him whining for you, begging you to let him fill you up like he does every night. He wants to show you off, hold open your cum soaked thighs just to show them that you love him and he’s your good boy.

But at the same time, letting anyone see you like that irks him like nothing else. You’re his and he’s yours.

“Please.” He implores, eyes glistening with a needy look. He gently takes your hand and leads it to where he needs you the most. You give in easily, pressing against his cock which strains against his perfectly tailored trousers. He’s already throbbing from the faint sensation of your touch.

“Please…?” You tease under your breath, now fully gripping the shape of him through the layers of his clothes. He watches the way your hand moves over him with a dazed look, appreciating the way your small hand looks, fisting his clothed cock with glazed eyes.

You squeeze him abruptly, nudging him for an answer and he responds with a surprised whine, his hips jerking up against you from the intense sensation.

“Please t-touch me.”

“I am, baby.”

His dark eyebrows pinch in frustration, “You know what I mean.”

You hum understandingly, slowly unzipping his pants as you taunt him.

“You’re so needy…”

He sighs as you pull down his briefs along with the restricting fabric of his pants. His thick cock slaps against his covered stomach, flushed prettily in a deep shade of pink, gently weeping pre-cum at the tip. Everything about San is pretty – especially the enamoured way he stares down at you with his signature pouty lips and flushed cheeks.

Eyes locked with his, you idly run a finger against his bare hip, so close to where he wants you to touch. He stutters out a shaky breath, his body shivering from the delicate sensation.

“K-kiss me.” He cups your jaw and moves impossibly closer to you. Your chest meets his as he holds you close, his hips pressing his hard cock against your body. He dips down to hover his soft lips over yours, “...Please.” He adds in a whisper – drenched in desperation.

As if you could ever deny him.

“You’re cute…” You whisper back before pressing your lips onto his.

You feel him immediately melt against you, his cock twitching eagerly against your stomach as he finally tastes you on his tongue. You hope he doesn't notice how you subtly rub your thighs together, an attempt to relieve the ache between them.

Your hands drift from resting on his chest to tangle in his hair, tugging gently at the ends, if only to hear that breathless whine that you adore.

As you draw away for a breath, you notice a smear of red messily decorating his lips. He doesn’t seem to care though, looking down at a similar mess on your lips with a heated gaze.

You can tell that he’s imagining the same stain at the base of his cock. San has a thing for marks, especially because it’s you who’s leaving them.

You lift up his dress shirt before pressing the palm of your hand against his aching erection, drawing a cute whimper from him. His stomach flexes from the sudden coolness of the air touching his heated skin.

Oh, how you want to lick over each defined ab, make him cry out from your teasing before biting into the firmness of his stupidly broad chest – but you don’t have time for that right now.

“Look at you,” You wrap your hand around him and slowly start to jerk him off, “almost about to cum from some kissing.” San bites his bottom lip to keep his moans down as your thumb repeatedly rubs over the edge of his sensitive tip.

“C-can’t help it, you taste s-so good.” His hips thrust eagerly against your hand, cock generously leaking as he feels himself already approaching the edge.

Your wrist moves in quick, practiced motions, slick noises filling the space between you. You can't help but dip your other hand under his dress shirt, feeling up his perfect body with the edge of your nails to make him tremble.

“I'll let you taste more tonight if you cum for me like a good boy."

San nods eagerly, but you can tell by that hazy look in his eye that he'd agree to jump off from the second floor balcony if you asked him.

You can tell that he's getting close by the way he's bucking into your slippery fist, whines growing louder and more desperate. It almost looks like he's about to cry as he stares down at the way your hand is wrapped so perfectly around his throbbing cock.

“About to c-cum,” he pants, eyes glistening sweetly. "F-ffuck, baby… Y-you’re s-so good to me. Don’t want it to get on you, though, and ruin your pretty dress.”

"No?" You tease as you watch him struggle to move a mere inch away, hips still thrusting in want. How cute. His eyes squeeze shut at your honeyed tone, knowing you were going to make it harder for him to back away. "You don't want to see me covered in your pretty mess?"

"Nnghh~" You watch him scramble to hold off his orgasm, legs shaking as his hands grip your waist tightly to ground himself. "please -- !"

You finally let him make some space between you, finding it adorable that even in this state, he's worried about protecting you from the people outside.

You give him one last squeeze, fingers brushing over his dripping tip before whispering: "Okay, baby~ Cum for me."

And he does. Oh, how he makes a mess of himself.

His broad shoulders shake as he curls his body into himself, head dipped while spilling out the most pathetic breathy whines against the top of your shoulder.

His hips shake sporadically as each rope of cum covers your hand, dripping miraculously over his lap and onto his once perfectly-pressed pants. Somehow, he stayed true to his word. Not a drop touched your dress.

"Good boy..."

He groans as you milk him with a tight fist, body shuddering from the overstimulation. Your other hand soothes him, rubbing gently over his stomach as he moves through his high.

---

San's panting, leaning against the washing machine with a fucked-out look on his face. He pulled his briefs back on, opting to leave the pants unbuttoned and barely hanging onto his hips.

At this point, it would be better for him to change – his pants are stained with drops of cum, his shirt is wrinkled and stretched out, his hair has been fluffed into a mess.

Maybe you should just tell everyone that he wasn’t feeling well…

You press a light peck to the side of his flushed neck before moving away from him in a hurry. You wash your hands in the small sink at the corner of the room and find a few tissues to take off your ruined lipstick and any residual sweat.

You try to fix your hair to look decent – though there is no mirror to really check – and smooth out your dress. Thankfully, San only made a mess of himself (at least, visually). You were planning to slip into a bathroom on the way to the parlor anyway.

“Ok, baby.” You throw the tissues away before turning back to your husband. His eyes are still half-lidded with lust, watching how easily you go back to being the refined woman from earlier this evening. “Clean yourself up, I’m going back out. I’ll tell them you’re feeling under the weather.”

“You’re so beautiful.” His raspy voice is endearing.

You feel your cheeks heating up at the compliment. You try to stamp it down, try to stay composed, but he always knows what to say to make you feel this way.

“You are beautiful, baby.” You respond with a gentle smile, walking back to him to give him one last kiss. One turns into many. He shyly smiles back, his dimples deepening as you scatter more kisses around his face.

“Wish me luck out there.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair to reduce the fluffiness.

“Come back to me soon, okay?”

“Anything for you, my love.”

#san x reader #san smut #choi san x reader #choi san smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #san x you #choi san x you #san choi x reader #san choi x you #san choi smut

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adelheidvonschicksal · 2 months ago

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Frowny Face

Summary: Nobara and Itadori try to figure out the similarities between Megumi and his son. They manage to find that the infamous Zen'in frowny face is a dominant trait.

Tags: Megumi x F!Reader, Humor, Fluff, SFW, 1200 wc

Notes: I had this drafted for weeks. After seeing the epilogue and the grandkids, wish I had posted sooner, I felt there wasn't a more appropriate time for this. Happy belated-birthday 'gumi.

“No, no, look again, he definitely has his eyes,” Itadori points out.

Nobara lowers her face towards the baby currently blinking at the two of them from the comfort of his plush crib. Megumi stands off to the side, arms loosely crossed over his chest and an increasingly spreading scowl as his two friends, if he could call them that right now, poke and prod at his kid.

Nobara was the first one to point out how much his child was growing and starting to resemble his parents before noticing that his new emerging features leaned heavily to your side of the family, leading to this search to pick out their similarities.

“I’m not seeing it,” Nobara disagrees, failing to find the hint of dark blue that Itadori swears he can see in the baby’s right pupil. To her, all she can see is black all the way through both eyes, like the majority of the Zen’in clan geezers from those centuries old family books she helped Maki trash; unfortunately, this didn't include Megumi so they couldn't even count it. With a hand on her hip, she turns to Megumi. “Sheesh, he doesn’t resemble you at all. The misses really said copy and paste, huh?”

Megumi huffs, about three seconds away from shooing them into the kitchen where you’re making dinner. That’s until Itadori pipes up, “Sure he does.” And for a second, Megumi thinks they’ll finally drop this silly discussion. “He has the same grumpy face his dad does.”

Megumi sighs. He should’ve known better.

“Now that you mention it,” Kugisaki can barely contain her laughter as she reaches into the crib and gently pinches a chubby cheek. Your son makes no expression at her playful squeeze or poke to his belly. His tiny legs kick the same way any other baby would when tickled, but the flat line on his face refuses to budge. “This is the least smiley baby I’ve ever seen,” she concludes while Itadori nods in agreement as he goes in to tickle the baby’s foot – just to make sure.

Megumi knows the two idiots don’t mean any harm by it, being the person to receive the brunt end of their jokes and observations over his life, the kind that can only be made out of innocent obliviousness and overconfidence, but he can’t help but feel more defensive when it’s his kid.

“Do you two have nothing better to do than to shame a baby?” he gripes. “It’s late, go home.”

“Oh, lighten up, we were only teasing. He’s adorable,” Nobara dismisses as she notes how much bigger her future-partner-in-crime has become over the past few months. Looking back on it, she can’t recall any time she’s heard him laugh or much of anything. Sure, she’s seen him get fussy while babysitting, but she’s rarely heard him cry. “But you have to admit he isn’t very expressive…for a baby,” she mentions with a hint of concern, concern that isn’t needed from Megumi’s point of view.

“Maybe you two just aren’t funny,” he says, watching the way Itadori attempts to get his son to laugh by making silly faces; it results in little more than a fist full of pink hair getting tugged.

“I’m being serious. I mean…” she tilts her head, trying to word it delicately. “Does he smile at all?”

Megumi nods. “He smiles.”

“Does he?” Itadori presses, craning his neck as he struggles to free his hair.

“He does,” Megumi repeats, his eyes softening at the memory of that innocent and joyful giggle he first heard like an unimaginable dream come true. “It’s just when you’re not around.”

Nobara rubs at the back of her neck apologetically. “Sorry. I didn’t mean any offense by it. He’s a good baby,” she compliments before moving to help free Itadori’s hair from his iron-like grip. “And strong too,” she adds, looks at him, and clicks her tongue when she once again fails to find the bit of blue Itadori mentioned earlier, but it provides an opportunity to cut through the awkwardness they unwittingly created. She fakes a sigh. “Unlike your genes. I don’t think they even had a battle plan.”

“Very funny,” he puffs out between their chuckles then he hears another voice coming from the direction of the kitchen.

“That’s not true,” you say as you pad into the room with a milk bottle in hand, the grin on your face trembling as you try not to laugh with them. “They have a lot in common.” You begin to list off on your fingers. “They both like the same fruit and animals, he really likes books when you read to him, and do you think his hair maintains itself?”

Nobara breathes out an "oh" at your explanation. “So, he gets mom's good looks to balance out dad's aloof personality? Makes sense."

Your resistance breaks as you let out a giggle, ignoring the pout on your husband’s face. “Are you guys staying for dinner?”

“No, we should really get going,” Nobara states with a small yawn. “Mission reports won’t write themselves.”

You nod, handing Megumi the bottle of milk as you walk the others to the door and wave them off.

“Have a good night,” Itadori calls out while Nobara makes you promise to phone her tomorrow and to come hang out if you’re free.

Locking the door, you walk back in and head towards the crib.

“You really shouldn’t entertain them when they get like that," Megumi reminds you.

“You know they only do it to mess with you. It’s how they show they like you.”

“You mean they’re idiots.”

“Yet you open the door right up every time they come over.”

Megumi gives you a doubtful look. “Not by choice. It’d be like trying to stop a rampaging bull from barging in,” Megumi states, and you let out an amused huff.

No matter how much he complains and comments that they haven't changed one bit after leaving school, he enjoys them. You remember how excited he seemed when Itadori called to ask if it was okay to pop in since they were nearby. Well, excited in that he immediately started to straighten out the house even though he had already cleaned earlier that morning. It's cute little quirks that often gives him away and the ones that make you like him even more.

“If it makes you feel better, I think you have a great personality and good looks,” you compliment with a brush of your hand over his hair. You look down at your son, who still seem unmoved by all the events of the evening. It makes you laugh because Nobara and Itadori were right. Your son does have Megumi’s ever-dull facial expression.

“And both my boys have the cutest frowny faces,” you say, holding up your son to your face to nuzzle his nose. As you pull him away, your eyes brighten at the wide smile that flashes on his face followed by a warm giggle. “Hello to you too,” you coo and cuddle him again, causing another fit of giggles to fill the room, and the sound resonates in his chest and makes him forget any problems that arose on the way to getting to this point in his life.

“You forgot to tell them one thing,” Megumi says, coming forward to kiss your temple. As he told the others, his son does smile, and Megumi does too. “They both smile when they see mommy.”

#megumi x reader #jjk x reader #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro

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halfgirl-halfdolll · 2 months ago

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Extremely self-indulgent. For the neurodivergent girlies. English isn't my first language, so my apologies for any mistake. I also have no idea how to write a Scottish accent 🧘🏻‍♀️ bear with me

You knocked on the dark hardwood door as you've had done plenty of times before.

It has been almost six months since you've signed that contract. That one, the one where you forfeited 4 years of your life in exchange for stable wages and proper housing.

For someone with no life, no family and no friends (besides the online weirdos you'd talk to from time to time), that was kinda good, if you could say so yourself.

You had stability, even though it came with the cost of being tied down to a military base chock-full of people who didn't really understand you.

That was fine though. THAT, you were used to. It comes with the neurodivergence: the side eyes, the whispers and the isolation.

What you weren't used to, however, was how your heart would race like a rabbit on a run for its life whenever you knocked on that one door. And you had to knock on it quite a lot of times.

You rapped your knuckles against the hardwood once more when you got no reply, cracking the door open just a little bit to peek inside.

"Cap?" You said, voice almost a whisper. After a few seconds, you heard an answer.

"Come in, love. Didn't know it was you." A strong, booming voice came from inside and you swallowed the lump on your throat that always formed whenever you had to go to Price's office.

Not because you were afraid of him, no. On the contrary. Maybe Price and the rest of the task force were the only ones who didn't treat you like an aberration – probably because they were aberrations of their own merit.

Maybe it was stupid of you to get giddy over being treated well by some of your coworkers, but when the bare minimum was so rare, you latched onto it like a dog with a bone.

And in spite of yourself, you couldn't control your own heart. It would be racing like a schoolgirl with a crush whenever you went to visit any of the men from the task force. You gave up on trying to tame it.

"Hi Cap" you said, with a small smile, approaching his desk. On the corner of your eyes, you saw the other three burly men that made up 141 and waved.

"Hey, lass, good ta see ya!" Soap hollered, voice loud as ever. You could probably feel it vibrating inside your bones if he spoke for a little longer and you loved it; as much as you envied it. What wouldn't you do to be just a little bit outgoing like that? Maybe things would be just a tad easier.

"How can I help my favorite secretary?" Price asked, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled, crow's feet getting a lot more pronounced in a way you probably thought of more than you should.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I'm your only secretary."

"Doesn't make my statement any less true."

You shook your head and placed a manila folder in front of him.

"I need your autograph, Cap."

"What for?"

"Because I'm your biggest fan and I wanna put it on my refrigerator...?" You answered humorously, and Price raised an eyebrow. You sighed. "We need to authorize the training of a few new recruits and they need your approval. So I need you to sign it."

Price huffed out a low chuckle and began leafing through the needlessly thick document. You poked your finger into the folder, fishing out the last pages, and walked towards the other men sitting on the other side of the office.

"I like today's dress, love." Gaz was manspreading on one of Price's armchairs, head resting on his palm as he gave you an once over. If it were anyone else, you'd probably hate the way you were being perceived – it usually made you feel like a bug being watched through a magnifying glass. But under his gaze, you just felt like a doll being admired.

"Do you, now? It's one of my favorites." You bowed dramatically while holding the hem of the dress. It was just another one of the black frilly dresses that you wore like a signature. It flew around you as you spun on your feet to show the black ribbon on the back.

"Adorable as always. If I wasn't selfish, I would say it's wasted inside this base, but I like to have you around way too much." His eyes gleamed with mirth and, in any other situation, you'd think he was secretly mocking you – but not Kyle. Not any one of them. You knew the compliments were genuine, even if they didn't understand why you insisted on sticking out like a sore thumb when it brought you so many problems.

You knew they would never really understand how masking could hurt you, but you were grateful they still defended your decision on just being yourself.

"Look at tha' key on yer neck." Soap pointed at your necklace. "I ken what's tha' for. It's the key to my heart, aye?" He said with an exaggerated wink and a smile that could blind you.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." You rolled your eyes, smiling, and pushed a paper into his hand and did the same with Gaz and Ghost.

"I need your autographs as well. You heard my explanation already."

" 'm not built for a life of fame, love." Simon grunted, shifting on his seat right beside Soap.

"Too late, the spotlight already found you. Now you gotta give me your autograph or I'm gonna cancel you on social media."

He huffed.

"Don't ya think I should have been canceled a long time ago?"

"Probably." You shrugged, and handed him a pen. "I like my favorites problematic, what can I say."

Soap barked out a laugh, mindlessly scanning the document and Ghost merely shook his head.

"Do I gotta sign this? Don't really feel like training new runts." The masked man muttered and you shrugged.

"Don't shoot the messenger. I don't really want new young men around me either." You walked back towards Price's desk after collecting the documents and placed them neatly inside the folder after he was done surveying every single fine print.

"What do you guys want for lunch?" You asked as you tucked the documents under your arm. Price clicked his tongue.

"You don't have to keep bothering with making food for us, love. We can all eat at the canteen like everyone else." The older man leaned back on his chair, folding his arms.

You looked to the side, with a small pout on your lips.

"But if I make you guys' lunch, then I can emotionally blackmail you into eating with me at the kitchen." You mumbled, avoiding any and all eye contact.

"So it was all a ploy to keep us nearby? I thought you were doing that because you liked us. I'm so hurt, dear." Kyle spoke up from his seat, a dramatic hand over his chest as he leaned his head back. You put a hand over your mouth, hiding your grin.

"Maybe I'm just learning a thing or two from hanging around tacticians?"

"Aw, Captain, come on. How can we leave the poor doll hangin'? And we get ta eat actually good food, not that canteen slop! Come on!"

Price sighed, shaking his head in defeat.

"Anything you make will be great, love."

"As long as it has proteins and carbs." Ghost added from his seat and you snickered. He had already seen you eating your comfort foods before and, needless to say, he didn't approve of them.

"As long as it has proteins and carbs." Price repeated, with a nod.

"Proteins and carbs, okay, got it." You said with a fierce nod, walking back towards the door to the older man's office. "Meet you guys at the kitchen?"

"1200, sharp." Price said, with eyes as soft as the smile under his moustache. You gave him a small salute on your way out.

"Yessir."

This will probably be a little anthology of scenes I think of, involving poly!141 x neurodivergent reader who works for them as a secretary. They might not have much continuity but I'm using this as a self-healing, self-indulgent blog, separated from my main. Expect mostly fluff and angst from me.

#141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #call of duty x reader #cod fluff #call of duty fluff

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tsukiflwr · 5 months ago

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❝ I MIGHT LET YOU MAKE ME JUNO… ❞

𝓹airing ∿ hyung line! enha x f!reader ᰔ 𝓱eadcanons ; slightly suggestive, fluff?, humor? 𝔀: slightly suggestive, skinship, kissing 𐙚 𝔀c 1485 ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓻oro's note. this idea came to me out of know where ﹒ ꒰ 𝓵ibrary ꒱

𝓢. enhypen hyung line reacting to you singing along to ‘juno’

LEE HEESEUNG

“wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?” you quietly sang along to the song as you scrolled through your pinterest feed, saving all the cute pictures in the proper section. your feet kicked in the air, matching the tempo of the song. you were laying on your stomach in your boyfriend's bed while he was at his computer, his attention on the game he was playing – or at least you thought it was. you had stolen his attention from his game as soon as he heard you sing something about his dads genetics.

he quietly slipped off his headphones – not like you could have heard it anyway if he didnt, you had your own headphones on – and he got up from his chair, a small smirk adoring his lips at how cute you looked in his shirt. you didn't flinch at the sudden touch of his hands on your ankles, softly pushing your elevated legs down on the bed so he could straddle your thighs. “seungie?” you hummed in confusion as you felt him press his chest against your back, taking your headphones off for you.

heeseung chuckled and placed a few kisses on your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear as he whispered huskily “the answer is yes” you giggled at the feeling of his breath on your neck, and you felt chills go down your spine at your boyfriends tone. ”to what question?” you sassily asked as you turned your head to the side, your breath hitching from how close he was to you. he couldn't help but smirk at your reaction, his eyes dropped to your lips before slowly looking back into your eyes, his tone teasing “I'd loveee to try out your fuzzy pink handcuffs”

PARK JAY

jay knew what you were doing before you even played the song; you had been dropping subtle hints – if you could even call them that – for days. sending him cute videos of baby’s while he was off at work, he noticed quickly that the parents were all on the younger side. he had noticed the change in you, ever since your new neighbors moved in next door and your eyes fell on that adorable baby – you had been wanting one of your own.

“one of me is cute, but two though?” you sang along to the song that was playing through the car speakers, the song of your choosing of course. you fiddled with your fingers in your lap as you tilted your head to look out the window, looking at all the buildings that lit up the dark sky. the corner of jay’s lip twitched up into a small smirk as he listened to you sing along. he quickly glanced at you before looking back at the road. he shook his head as he let out a small chuckle, his eyes on the road as he moved his right hand to rest it on your thigh, gripping the plush of your thigh as he said smoothly “you know all you had to do was ask”

“hmm?” you hummed in confusion as you tilted your head to look at him, your breath hitching as you took in the sight. from his perfectly slicked back hair and that single strand of hair that was draped over his black framed glasses, to his perfect side profile and down to his adam's apple, and the top of his chest that was exposed from the first few buttons of his black button down being unbuttoned – something he did on purpose because he knew it would drive you crazy to look at from across the restaurant table.

you bit your lip as he squeezed your thigh harder, his touch leaving a chill in his wake. you felt like you were in a daze as you watched him lick his lips quickly, before that mischievous smirk is adoring his face once again as he repeated his words “all you had to do was use your words and ask me to put a baby in you” your mouth drops in slight shock at how calm and smoothly he said that, he chuckles and slips his hand high up your thigh and under your dress “but you have to be a good girl and say please”

SIM JAKE

jake bit his lip to hold in his groan as he quietly walked into the kitchen. he had just woken up from a nap when he heard you singing from the kitchen. his eyes immediately went to you and his jaw went slack as he took in the sight of you. there you stood at the counter whisking something in a bowl, clad in one of his shirts and from where he stood it looked like that was all you were wearing, his eyes lingering on your swaying hips to the beat of the song. you smiled and paused your whisking when you felt him hug you from behind. you opened your mouth to greet him, but you were cut off by the loud groan leaving his lips “you are driving me fucking crazy”

“what did I do now?” you couldn't stop the giggle from leaving your lips at the slight hint of grumpiness in his tone. jake moved his hands that were holding your hips to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you back flush against his chest, a small groan slipping past his lips at the feeling of you pressed against him. he pouted as he mumbled into your neck “you singing those lyrics, god i can't concentrate on anything” you smiled innocently and resumed mixing your cookie dough “oh…oops”

“Oh, that's all you got to say princess hmm?” jake teased with a playful huff, slipping one of his hands under your shirt to softly caress your stomach, resting his chin on your shoulder. he eyes your pretty side profile before dropping down to watch as you start to put perfect sized circles of cookie dough on the cookie pan. there was something so domestic about seeing you wear his shirt, baking in your shared kitchen, singing lyrics about wanting a baby. god he wanted nothing more than to have a family with you.

jake let out a loud groan as his imagination started to run wild, he moved his chin off your shoulder and gently dropped his forehead to rest on the middle of your back, his hold on your waist tightening. he closed his eyes as he whined out needily “fuckkk now all i can think about is putting a baby in you” you bit your lip to hold in your chuckle at how whiney your boyfriend sounded, you tilted your head to the side so he could hear you clearly as you tease “if you let me finish these maybe you can”

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon watched you with a small smirk as he leaned against the doorway of your bathroom, watching as you leaned over the bathroom sink to look into the mirror as you did your eyeshadow. he pushed himself off the doorway and moved to stand behind you, finally alerting you of his presence as he rested his hands on your hips. he softly caressed your sides as he asked “who’s juno?”

you pulled the eyeshadow brush away from your eyes as you pulled back from the mirror a little, gaping at your boyfriend through the mirror is disbelief “you're kidding – you've never seen juno?” you watched as he shrugged, shaking his head no with a cute smile. you roll your eyes playfully in false disappointment as you stand up straight, giving him a teasing smile “remind me why I'm dating you?”

sunghoon chuckled and moved one of his arms up, flexing his muscles in the mirror. smirking at you as he answered in a flirty tone “oh my muscles definitely” you giggled as you turned around to face him leaning back against the counter as you looked up at him. your boyfriend caresses your side before resting his hands on the counter, trapping you in his arms; enjoying how you looked up at him with your pretty eyes. he leaned closer to you, whispering huskily with a smirk “so are we?”

you rest one of your hands on his hip, fidgeting with his sweatpants before leaning forward to place a few soft kisses on his bare shoulder, smiling at the chills that spread across his skin. “hmm?” you raised your eyebrow as you let out a hum of confusion. sunghoon let out a groan at the feeling of your lips on his now warm skin and the feeling of your fingers teasingly slipping under the band of his sweatpants. he moved one of his hands from the counter to cup your jaw, making you look up at him as he whispered with an innocent smile; his dimples out “gonna try out some freaky positions?”

𝓻oro's note. hi my lovely people !! I’m so sorry that it’s taken me forever to get another post out, I’ve been superrr busy. I hope you guys enjoyed this , pls let me know what members part you liked the most !! I will not be making a maknae line ver !! ꒰ 𝓷av ꒱

likes, reblogs, comments and feedback are heavily encouraged !

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cumironi · 5 months ago

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YOU WILL GO DOWN IN HISTORY AS THE WORLDS BIGGEST IDIOT : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

the first time you meet your senior, GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU . . . you think they are the weirdest and most idiots person you've ever met, especially that special kid, gojo satoru.

warning : fluff

w/c : 7,8k | [☆] MASTERLIST

THE FIRST MEETING

you were walking to the mall with yuu haibara and nanami kento, enjoying the break from school and missions. as the three of you strolled down the busy streets, yuu was excitedly chattering about all the things he wanted to do at the mall, when he suddenly said, “oh, by the way, we're meeting some of our upperclassmen today! and i heard you know shoko ieiri?”

you nodded, recalling the times your father made you visit jujutsu high before you officially enrolled. shoko was always there, casually smoking or chatting with some of the older students, and she was one of the first people to welcome you with her relaxed demeanor and dry humor. but as for the others you were supposed to meet today, you didn't really know them—just heard bits and pieces from conversations around school.

“geto suguru and gojo satoru, right?” nanami groaned at the mention of their names, rubbing his temples as if he could already feel a headache coming on. “great, just what we needed... gojo-unbearable-satoru and his sidekick.”

you chuckled, not entirely sure what to expect but amused by nanami's reaction. “are they really that bad?” you asked, curious since you’d only ever heard that they were an insanely strong duo, both special grade sorcerers, which was a big deal considering their age.

“they’re both ridiculously powerful, but gojo is... gojo,” nanami said, his tone dripping with exasperation, “geto’s alright, i guess. but gojo's insufferable.”

as you arrived at the mall, you spotted shoko first, leaning against the wall near the entrance with her phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other. beside her stood two guys who had to be the infamous geto and gojo. geto looked calm, with long hair tied up and a gentle smile on his face. gojo, on the other hand, had that cocky grin and his signature sunglasses, radiating an aura of arrogance even from a distance.

“there they are,” yuu pointed out cheerfully, waving at the trio.

you hesitated for a moment but followed yuu and nanami as they approached the group. shoko spotted you and gave a small wave, her expression softening slightly. “hey, you made it,” she greeted you, her tone as laid-back as ever.

as you and the other first years finally approached, geto and gojo turned their attention toward you all. gojo was the first to speak, eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses as he shamelessly scanned you from head to toe. he had that smirk—the kind that screamed he thought he was better than everyone else—and he leaned forward, one hand still stuffed casually in his pocket.

“hey, so this is the new kid?” he drawled, his tone light but with an unmistakable hint of mockery. geto nudged him, a silent warning flashing in his eyes, but gojo barely seemed to notice, too caught up in his own amusement.

you raised an eyebrow, already unimpressed. you’d heard all about gojo satoru from your family—the endless talk about his six eyes and his bullshit special grade powers like he was some kind of walking legend. honestly, you’d had enough of that nonsense to last a lifetime.

crossing your arms, you met his smirk with one of your own, not backing down in the slightest. “wow, the great gojo satoru, huh? must be exhausting, carrying around all that ego,” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “heard so much about you—mostly that you’re just an arrogant prick with some fancy eyes.”

gojo blinked, a flicker of surprise breaking through his smug expression, but it quickly turned into a grin. “oh, i like this one,” he said, clearly entertained by your sass. “she’s got some fire.” nanami and yuu couldn't believe what they were hearing, their eyes widening at your boldness. gojo, however, seemed to delight in the fact that you were snapping back at him instead of cowering away like most people did.

he leaned in closer, a sly smile on his lips as he looked down at you, his sunglasses hiding his eyes but the mischief in them was palpable, “well, well, well... the little first year has some bite.” geto watched with amusement, leaning against the wall and hiding a smirk behind his hand.

geto chuckled softly, giving you a knowing look as if to say he was used to this kind of reaction toward gojo. “don’t mind him,” geto said, his tone much gentler, “he likes to push buttons.”

“yeah, well, he’s not pushing mine,” you said with a shrug, refusing to let gojo’s attitude get to you. you weren’t about to be intimidated by some guy who thought he was untouchable. if he wanted to play that game, you’d play right back, with just as much sass and zero tolerance for his bullshit.

gojo laughed, a sound that was as arrogant as it was charming. he liked you. you were different from other people he’d met, and to say he was pleasantly surprised would be an understatement.

“oh, i like this one,” he repeated, his smile widening. “she’s not scared of me, suguru. it’s refreshing.” geto chuckled again, shaking his head slightly, “yeah, she's not intimidated by your god complex,“ he teased.

as the six of you strolled through the mall, browsing shops and occasionally stopping when something caught yuu’s eye, you couldn’t help but notice how geto and gojo kept glancing at you, their heads tilting toward each other as they whispered and smirked like they were sharing some inside joke. it was irritating, really—especially gojo, who seemed to be making it his personal mission to get under your skin.

you tried your best to ignore them, pretending to be engrossed in whatever store display was nearby, but you could feel their eyes on you, that smug energy radiating off of gojo like a beacon. he’d throw out little comments here and there, light jabs that were clearly meant to see if you’d react.

“so, what’s your deal, huh?” gojo suddenly said, breaking the conversation you were having with nanami about some new movie. he fell into step beside you, leaning in with that same annoying smirk. “you’ve got quite the attitude for a first year. something to prove, maybe?”

you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to look at him as you continued walking. “and you’ve got quite the mouth for someone who’s supposed to be ‘all-powerful,’” you shot back, keeping your tone casual but laced with a bite, “maybe try using it for something other than annoying people for once.”

geto snickered softly from behind, clearly entertained by your responses, while gojo just grinned wider, like he was enjoying every second of your defiance. “oh, come on, don’t be like that,” gojo said, pretending to pout. “we’re just trying to get to know you. you’re kinda fun when you’re not glaring at us.”

the entire time, yuu was stuck between looking like an excited kid in a candy store and watching the interaction between you and gojo like he was watching a tennis match. seeing someone stand up to gojo’s arrogance was a rare sight, especially for someone as much younger as you.

nanami, on the other hand, was simply exhausted by the whole thing, his eyes narrowed as he looked at gojo and muttered something that sounded like ‘annoying prick.’ while gojo continued his verbal banter, geto quietly watched.

“yeah, fun,” you muttered, your patience wearing thin, “or maybe i just have a low tolerance for bullshit.” gojo laughed, the sound loud and obnoxious, drawing a few stares from passersby. “guess we’ll just have to see how low that tolerance really is,” he teased, nudging geto, “bet i can make them snap by the end of the day.”

you stopped walking, finally turning to face him with an unimpressed look. “oh, please,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “if you think i’m gonna lose my cool over some smug, overconfident special grade who thinks the world revolves around him, you’re in for a long day, gojo.”

for a split second, you thought you saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but he quickly covered it with another grin. geto chuckled again, nudging gojo as if to tell him to ease up. “looks like you’ve met your match, satoru.”

“yeah, yeah,” gojo waved him off, still smirking. “but that’s what makes it interesting, right?” you just rolled your eyes again, turning away from them to continue walking. if gojo thought he was gonna get the better of you, he was sorely mistaken. you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you snap—not today, not ever.

by now, nanami was silently rooting for you not to let gojo get under your skin. yuu was practically vibrating with excitement, enjoying the spectacle like it was a circus show. and geto—geto was clearly entertained, barely holding back a smile behind his hand as he watched you brush off gojo’s attempts to rile you up.

despite your outwardly unbothered demeanor, gojo was not about to back down. he loved a challenge, and there was something about your attitude that intrigued him.

so he continued, throwing out more snide comments and subtle jabs.

YOU AND GAKUGANJI'S GUITAR

ever since that first meeting at the mall, geto and gojo had made it their mission to annoy you every single day. they always found a way to tease you or mess with you, and it felt like they had some kind of radar for whenever you were in a decent mood, swooping in just to ruin it. and it didn’t help that your classmates started hanging out with them more, dragging you into their chaos whether you liked it or not.

you’d tried to brush them off, but they were relentless—gojo especially, always throwing some sarcastic comment or smug remark your way, while geto would watch with an amused smile, occasionally adding his own little quip that was just enough to push your buttons. it was like a game to them, and you were the unwilling participant.

one afternoon, you’d finally had enough and decided to take some time alone, venturing into the forest to clear your head. you needed some peace, some quiet, and more than anything, a break from those two idiots who always seemed to find you no matter where you went. but it wasn’t just for relaxation; you were digging for something with a shovel in hand, trying to keep your mind focused and away from the usual annoyances. the quiet, the solitude—it was exactly what you needed.

you were deep into your task, almost losing track of time, when suddenly you heard a voice behind you—smooth and way too familiar.

“what’re you digging for, a body?” geto’s voice rang out, and before you could even register it, you jumped, letting out a scream as the shovel slipped from your grasp and clattered to the ground. your heart raced, and you whipped around to find geto standing there, his expression half-amused, half-surprised at your reaction. geto and gojo stood there, both grinning like they’d just won the lottery. gojo was barely holding back laughter, while geto wore that usual smug smile, clearly pleased with himself for catching you off guard.

“damn it, geto!” you snapped, pressing a hand to your chest to steady your breathing. “are you trying to give me a heart attack? what the hell are you doing here?”

gojo snickered, leaning against a tree with that same insufferable grin. “we were just taking a walk and saw you out here,” he said, clearly not sorry at all. “but now i’m curious—what are you digging for? burying evidence or something?”

you huffed, quickly realizing that your attempts to have a moment of peace were quickly being ruined by the two special grades who had a habit of making your life more difficult.

you crossed your arms, trying to regain your composure and glare at them defiantly, but your heart was still racing from being startled. “none of your business,” you grumbled, turning away to pick up the shovel.

gojo snickered again, leaning against the tree and looking like he was enjoying himself way too much. “aww, no need to be so defensive,” he teased. geto’s eyes flicked to the electric guitar lying on the ground near the hole you were digging, and he immediately recognized it. a smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned closer, arms folded casually.

“is that gakuganji’s guitar?” geto asked, his tone filled with amusement.

your movements froze instantly, your back still to them, slightly bent over as you were mid-dig. the tension in the air shifted, and even gojo raised an eyebrow, the smirk on his face growing wider as he realized the significance of geto’s question.

you let out a frustrated sigh, your gaze darting between geto and gojo as you tried to keep your composure. the shovel felt heavy in your hand, and you shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous this all looked.

“it’s not his guitar,” you said, forcing yourself to sound casual despite the nervous tremor in your voice. you avoided eye contact, focusing on the ground as if it held the answers to your predicament. “i—uh, I just found it here.”

geto raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your story, while gojo’s grin grew even wider, clearly relishing the situation. “oh really?” geto said, his tone skeptical. “just found it, huh? out here in the middle of nowhere?”

gojo let out a barking laugh, unable to contain his amusement any longer. "oh, this is rich," he snickered, clearly enjoying your obvious lie.

geto chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “seriously? you really think we’d believe that?” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “out here, in the middle of the forest, you just happened to stumble upon the esteemed gakuganji’s prized guitar?”

gojo leaned against the tree again, still snickering. “nice try, but you’re gonna have to do better than that.” you scowled, feeling your patience snap as gojo and geto continued to mock you. their laughter and disbelief were grating on your nerves, and you couldn’t hold back your frustration any longer.

“fine,” you snapped, turning to face them fully with a fierce glare. “it is his guitar. that old bitch was pissing me off today and i hate him, so i took it. happy now?”

a moment of shocked silence followed your admission, the duo clearly not expecting such a straightforward response.

gojo’s laughter faded as he stood up straight, his smirk becoming more intrigued than mocking. “seriously?” he said, his eyes flickering between you and the guitar. “you really took his guitar just to mess with him? that’s ballsy.”

geto stayed quiet for a moment, eyeing you with a mix of surprise and admiration. “you really don’t like being pushed around, do you?” you crossed your arms and scowled at the two of them, clearly fed up with their reactions but unable to mask your irritation.

“hey, he was a bitch, okay?” you snapped. “he’s just lucky i only took his guitar and didn’t yank out all those hairs on his face. i’ve got more patience than he deserves.” gojo's grin returned, wider than before, clearly impressed by your audacity. “damn, you really don't hold back, do you?” he chuckled.

geto chuckled softly as well, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “never a dull moment with you around,” he muttered.

you shrugged, focusing on your digging as if the ground was the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen. “yeah, well, some of us don’t have time for polite small talk,” you said with a hint of a smile. “i prefer getting things done, even if it means ruffling a few feathers.”

you gave them a quick glance before returning to your work, feeling a bit more at ease now that you knew they weren’t completely against you.

despite their initial surprise, gojo and geto chuckled, clearly enjoying your defiant attitude. they exchanged amused glances.

“ruffling feathers is an understatement, i think,” gojo said, leaning back against the tree again. “you're more like a tornado that just blows through everything in sight.”

geto nodded in agreement, his smirk softening into a smile. “but it's definitely entertaining.” gojo snickered, leaning against the tree once more. “feisty, rude, and unpredictable,” he noted. “you're definitely a unique one, that's for sure.”

geto chuckled softly, looking at you with a hint of admiration in his gaze. “looks like there's more to you than meets the eye,” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. you rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance at their comments, but deep down, a small part of you was secretly enjoying the attention. it was the first time they'd actually given you a compliment—even if it was backhanded—and it didn't completely suck.

“oh, please,” you muttered, digging with more force than needed. “don't suddenly start being nice to me—it's weird.”

but gojo just chuckled, undeterred by your dismissive tone. “oh, we're not being nice,” he teased. “we're just stating facts.”

geto nodded in agreement, a smile still on his face. “like it or not, you've caught our attention,“ he said, his tone playful. “you're not easy to ignore, you know.” you turned to face them, your cheeks flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. your glare was as sharp as you demanded, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

gojo shrugged casually, clearly enjoying the effect his words were having on you. “it means you're interesting,” he said with a smirk. “we keep an eye on things that pique our interest.”

geto leaned against a tree opposite to gojo, his arms crossed as he added, “and you, y/n, have definitely piqued our interest.” you felt your eyes widen, and your cheeks started to heat up as the realization sank in. “shut up,” you muttered, trying to sound annoyed but unable to completely hide the embarrassment in your voice.

gojo chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “aw, looks like someone's blushing,” he teased, his smirk growing wider.

geto's smile turned into a soft chuckle as he watched you try to brush off their comments. “it's cute when you get flustered,” he remarked, his tone light and playful. you grumbled under your breath, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as gojo and geto’s teasing continued. their comments were starting to get on your last nerve, and you were done playing along.

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” you muttered, barely hiding your irritation as you turned away from them.

without another word, you took the shovel and, with a determined swing, cut the guitar in two. the sound of the wood cracking echoed through the forest, and you threw the broken pieces into the hole, your actions rough and deliberate.

“take that, you old bitch,” you mumbled to yourself as you covered the hole with dirt, clearly imagining it was gakuganji’s neck you were burying instead.

gojo and geto stood there, watching your dramatic display with a mix of surprise and admiration. they had expected you to be defiant, but your fierce determination took them by surprise.

as the sound of the guitar splitting echoed through the forest, they exchanged amused glances. gojo's smirk widened, while geto chuckled, clearly entertained by your boldness. geto spoke up first, his voice filled with amusement. "that was certainly a... unique way to say 'fuck you,' wasn't it?"

gojo watched you with a mix of fascination and surprise, his usual smirk softened by a look of genuine admiration. he could practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as he took in your fierce, unapologetic display. it was like you had turned the whole situation into a dramatic, personal statement, and it had a profound effect on him.

his eyes were fixed on your form, and he felt a rush of excitement that he couldn't quite ignore. for a moment, the teasing and playful facade melted away, replaced by a deeper, more intense emotion. the raw intensity of your reaction had hit him harder than he expected, and he was almost afraid you’d notice just how much it affected him.

gojo nodded absentmindedly, still caught up in the rapid beat of his own heart. “yeah,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “definitely one for the books.”

geto's smile widened as he noticed the subtle change in gojo's demeanor. he saw the way his smirk faded into something more sincere and felt the shift in the air. he knew gojo well enough to recognize when something had piqued his interest, and your defiant display had certainly done just that.

he glanced at gojo, a knowing look in his eyes, before turning his gaze back to you. “careful, satoru,” he teased, a sly smile on his lips. “you're looking a little smitten over there.”

you noticed gojo’s reaction before you heard geto’s teasing remark. the slight pink in his cheeks and the way his posture seemed a bit more tense caught your attention. even though you couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark glasses, you could tell from the way his expression had shifted that something was definitely different.

you gave gojo a look of disgust, clearly unimpressed by his sudden change in demeanor. “seriously?” you said, your voice dripping with annoyance. “what’s wrong with him?”

geto chuckled, enjoying the fact that you had noticed gojo's unease. he loved to see his friend squirm, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

"aw, don't be so hard on him,” he teased. “he's just experiencing some... unexpected emotions, that's all.” gojo shot geto a dirty look, silently signaling him to shut up, but geto just snickered and ignored his silent plea.

you maintained your disgusted expression as you took in the interaction between geto and gojo. yhe way geto was teasing gojo and the evident discomfort it caused him only added to your irritation.

“weirdo,” you muttered, shaking your head as you tossed the shovel to the ground with a clatter. you turned on your heel and started walking away, clearly done with the whole situation and eager to put some distance between yourself and the bizarre scene.

as you walked off, you could still hear geto’s laughter behind you, but you chose to ignore it, focusing instead on finding some semblance of normalcy away from their antics.

gojo's eyes followed you as you walked away, his demeanor still a mix of surprise and mild mortification.

“great,” he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. “thanks for that, suguru.”

geto just shrugged, his smirk still in place. “what? i was just being honest. it's not my fault you have a thing for the feisty ones.” gojo shot geto another glare, his cheeks still slightly pink. “shut up,” he muttered, sounding more embarrassed than angry.

geto chuckled again, clearly enjoying the situation a bit too much. “oh come on, don’t deny it. i saw the look on your face. you were practically swooning.”

“i’m not,” gojo retorted, his voice coming out more defensive than he intended.

“you are,” geto insisted, grinning widely.

“i’m not,” gojo said again, his tone more strained as he tried to maintain his composure.

geto’s grin only widened at gojo’s weak protestations. he knew he had struck a nerve.

“oh, come on. you can’t fool me,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “i know the look of a smitten man when i see one. and you, my friend, are wearing it loud and clear.”

TREE AND TWO PARASITE

you sat under the tree, savoring the shade and the cool breeze against your skin. the popsicle in your hand was a perfect escape from the relentless heat, and you eagerly opened the package, snapping the plastic off with a quick twist. the moment the cold, sweet treat touched your tongue, a satisfied moan escaped your lips, the icy chill instantly refreshing.

you leaned back against the tree trunk, enjoying your brief moment of peace. you were supposed to be training with yaga’s curse doll, but you couldn’t be bothered—combat practice was the last thing you felt like doing today. you were perfectly content to hide out here, enjoying your popsicle and the quiet, far from yaga’s stern instructions and that annoying doll.

just as you were getting comfortable, you heard rustling nearby, but you ignored it, too caught up in the bliss of your popsicle to care who might be approaching.

as you were lost in the bliss of your moment, the sound of footsteps approached, followed by familiar voices. before you could even react, gojo and geto appeared out of nowhere, their presence instantly breaking your peaceful escape.

you groaned in annoyance, already expecting some kind of teasing from them. but what you didn’t expect was gojo leaning down with that stupid smirk of his and snatching your popsicle right out of your hand. without a second thought, he put it in his mouth, his grin widening as he enjoyed the stolen treat.

“are you serious?” you snapped, glaring up at gojo, who was clearly pleased with himself. the audacity of it made your blood boil, and you could see geto trying to stifle a laugh beside him, clearly enjoying the show.

“come on, satoru,” geto chuckled, giving him a playful shove. “you’re really gonna steal a popsicle from her?”

gojo just winked, still savoring the cold treat. “what? sharing is caring, right?” he said, voice muffled slightly by the popsicle, as if that made his actions any less infuriating. your annoyance only grew as geto chimed in, clearly finding the situation hilarious. gojo’s cocky demeanor made you want to punch him in his smug face.

you crossed your arms, glaring daggers at him. “oh, come on,” you snapped. “that’s mine!”

but gojo just chuckled, shamelessly enjoying his stolen popsicle. “finders keepers,” he said through his smug smile, his fingers holding loosely around your popsicle.

you huffed, eyes narrowing at gojo as he shamelessly continued to enjoy your popsicle. the audacity was enough to make your blood boil, and you were done playing along with their annoying antics. without missing a beat, you reached over and snatched the popsicle right out of gojo’s hand, earning a surprised look from him.

“this is mine,” you said firmly, taking a deliberate lick of the popsicle as if to prove your point. “if you want one, buy it yourself.” your glare dared him to argue, and you could see geto stifling a laugh at gojo’s expense.

gojo couldn't hide his surprise at your boldness. he had expected you to protest and whine, not take back your popsicle with such determination. and the way you took a defiant lick, without a care in the world, was both irritating and admirable.

he glanced at geto, clearly annoyed at the amused look on his friend's face. gojo opened his mouth to say something, but geto beat him to it.

“oh, looks like she’s not messing around,” he teased, a wide grin on his face. you rolled your eyes at geto’s comment, not in the mood to entertain their teasing any longer. with a deep sigh, you finally turned your attention to them, still holding your popsicle like a prized possession. “why are you guys even here?” you asked, annoyance lacing your tone.

as they sat down, you noticed gojo positioning himself beside you—way too close for comfort. you didn’t even realize how close until your shoulder brushed against his. you flinched slightly, your personal space suddenly feeling invaded.

gojo, seemingly unfazed, leaned back casually, his shoulder still lightly pressed against yours. “what, can’t we just hang out?” he said with that insufferable smirk, as if he owned the world and everything in it.

geto leaned back against the tree, clearly enjoying the dynamic. “yeah, we figured you could use some company, y’know? since you’re so ‘busy’ running from training,” he added with a chuckle.

you shot gojo a quick glare, scooting away just a bit to reclaim some space. “if i wanted company, i wouldn’t be hiding out here,” you mumbled, taking another lick of your popsicle, as if to reclaim the moment they interrupted.

as you shifted away to maintain at least a hint of personal space, gojo’s smirk only widened. he chuckled at your attempt to distance yourself, clearly enjoying your stubborn defiance.

“aww, don’t be like that,” he teased, leaning in closer again. “you know you love our company.”

geto just chuckled and shook his head, finding the whole scene amusing. “he has a point, y/n,” he joked. “we’re pretty entertaining, you have to admit that.” you let out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes as gojo leaned in even closer, completely disregarding your obvious need for space. you turned your head, giving him a flat, unimpressed look before shifting your gaze to geto, who seemed all too amused by the whole situation.

“no, you two are not entertaining,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “if anything, you two are going to go down in history as the world’s biggest idiots.”

you took another defiant bite of your popsicle, savoring the cold sweetness while ignoring the way gojo’s shoulder brushed against yours yet again. gojo’s smirk morphed into a full grin, not at all bothered by your insult. in fact, he seemed to thrive on your defiant attitude. he leaned in even closer, his shoulder still pressing against yours despite your obvious discomfort.

“oh, wow. harsh,” he remarked, his voice dripping with amusement. “aren’t you just a ray of sunshine today?”

geto chuckled and chimed in, clearly enjoying the exchange. “yeah, you do seem a bit prickly today, y/n. what’s got you in such a grumpy mood?” you raised an eyebrow, fixing both gojo and geto with a serious, unamused expression. their teasing was getting old, and you weren’t in the mood for their games. gojo’s smug grin and geto’s easy laughter only fueled your irritation.

“seriously?” you said flatly, your gaze shifting between the two of them. “you two are the reason.”

you held their stare, refusing to back down or give them the reaction they were fishing for. “maybe if you both found something better to do than annoy me every chance you get, i wouldn’t be in such a ‘grumpy mood,’” you added, your tone laced with sarcasm.

gojo chuckled in response to your flat tone, clearly loving the fact that he was getting under your skin. “aww, don’t blame us for your bad mood,” he said, his voice oozing with mock innocence. “we’re just here to brighten your day.”

geto chimed in, his smirk mirroring gojo’s. “yeah, we’re just spreading a bit of joy and cheer.” the two of them chuckled at each other, obviously enjoying the effect they were having on you.

you rolled your eyes, thoroughly annoyed by their nonchalant attitude. “yeah, because being a major pain in my ass is such a great way to spread joy and cheer.”

gojo’s smirk only grew wider at your biting remark. he found your feisty side downright amusing. “oh, come on. you know you love it when we annoy you.” geto chimed in, clearly enjoying the exchange. “yeah, your grumpy little huffs and eye rolls are the highlight of my day.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk still firmly in place. “and don’t forget your adorable little scowls,” he added, his voice filled with mockery. you let out a heavy sigh, your patience wearing thin with their constant teasing. “so annoying,” you mumbled under your breath, leaning back against the tree with an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

despite your words, there was a small part of you that didn’t mind their company as much as you pretended to. but admitting that, even to yourself, was a hit to your pride that you weren’t willing to take.

you crossed your arms and stared up at the sky, trying to ignore the way gojo’s presence lingered too close, and how geto’s laugh seemed to fill the space around you. it was frustrating how they managed to worm their way into your day, no matter how hard you tried to keep your distance.

gojo chuckled at your mumbled complaint, not buying your exasperated act for a second. he had known you long enough to catch the subtle hints that you weren’t as annoyed as you were trying to appear.

he leaned in even closer, his shoulder still touching yours. “aww, don’t be like that. you know you love having us around.”

geto chuckled at the exchange, clearly enjoying the back and forth between the two of you. “yeah, admit it. we’re the best part of your day.” you couldn’t help but chuckle, a small, genuine smile tugging at your lips despite your best efforts to stay annoyed. you shook your head slightly, glancing between the two of them, their expectant faces so full of mischief and teasing.

“yeah, right,” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully but unable to keep the warmth out of your voice. they both grinned, knowing they had managed to break through your defenses, even if just a little.

gojo and geto exchanged a knowing glance, clearly pleased with themselves for making you crack a smile. they knew they were slowly chipping away at your stubborn exterior.

gojo leaned in even closer, his arm brushing against yours. “see, you do like having us around,” he said with a smirk, enjoying the way he was able to get under your skin without even trying. geto chuckled and nodded in agreement. “yeah, we’re growing on you like a fungus.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your cheeks as gojo leaned even closer, his presence both irritating and oddly comforting.

“please, shut up,” you muttered, turning your gaze away, but the slight upturn of your lips betrayed your attempt to seem unbothered. gojo and geto shared a knowing look, both of them clearly amused by your reaction. they could tell that you were trying to hide your feelings, but they weren’t buying it for a second. the way your cheeks blushed gave you away.

“aww, look at that,” gojo teased, his smirk widening. “our little grouch is blushing.” geto chuckled and nodded. “yeah, i bet she secretly loves our company.”

you let out a huff, deciding not to dignify their teasing with a response. instead, you shifted slightly between them, settling onto the grass and lying down with your back to grass. closing your eyes, you block out their smug expressions, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face.

“i’m going to take a nap,” you announced, your voice muffled by the wind. “be useful for once and don’t let yaga find me.” they can clearly see the exhausted in your face, the bag under your eyes. their heart softens as they take the sight of you between them, deciding to stop teasing you for a while and let you rest.

gojo and geto exchanged a brief look at your sudden change in behavior. they could both pick up on your exhaustion, the bags under your eyes all the tell-tale sign that you hadn’t been getting enough rest.

they both silently agreed to back off on the teasing for the moment, knowing you needed a break. gojo sat back a bit, giving you some breathing room, while geto settled on his back, resting his arms behind his head. “alright, get some rest,” gojo said, his voice softer than usual. “we’ll keep an eye out for yaga.”

the two of them settled into a comfortable silence, both of them quietly observing you as you laid between them, your eyes closed in exhaustion.

gojo quietly observed your sleeping face, taking in the way your features looked uncharacteristically relaxed in sleep. he found himself thinking, for a moment, how oddly peaceful you looked when you weren’t bickering with him.

geto glanced over at gojo, noticing the soft look on his face, and chuckled quietly to himself. he had seen that look before and he knew exactly what it meant.

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bellaxgiornata · 1 month ago

Text

Under the Influence

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.8k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Drunken Confession

Warnings/tags: 18+; Fluff, light humor, drunk Reader, pining

Summary: Drunk after a girl's night out, you accidentally slip up about your feelings for Matt.

a/n: This fic is literally months overdue, but it was written and I finally was able to edit it and share. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Stumbling into your apartment, you felt far less capable of walking in the heels you’d put on earlier than when you'd first slipped them on and left to grab drinks with your friends. But tonight's girl's night out with everyone had been long overdue with how constantly busy everyone had been, which meant you'd accidentally gone a little overboard with the drinks. In all honesty, you’d drank a bit more than you usually did whenever you went out with Foggy, Marci, Karen, and Matt to Josie’s on your usual Thursday night outs. So now, admittedly, you were a bit drunk.

Slipping out of your heels after you shut your apartment door, you balanced yourself with a hand against the wall. The room around you spun ever so slightly and you tried to blink away the sensation, focusing on removing the uncomfortable shoes from your aching feet one at a time. It had been so long that you’d forgotten just how painful it was to go out drinking and dancing in heels. Shoving your shoes to the side with a foot once they were off, you pushed yourself off of the wall and nearly tripped over your own feet in the process of turning around.

“Far, far too much alcohol,” you mumbled to yourself.

Barefoot, you sluggishly padded your way over to the kitchen and stopped in front of your fridge, pulling the door open to retrieve a bottle of water from the side door. You twisted off the cap, letting the fridge door fall softly shut as you drew the bottle up to your lips. Beginning to chug the cold liquid down in the hopes that it would help to ease your growing headache, you closed your eyes and internally begged the room to spin less–or at least slower.

Lowering the bottle from your lips, you wiped the back of your other hand across your damp mouth, feeling your exhaustion from the evening beginning to finally settle into you. But just as your body had begun to relax, a sound from outside your living room window quickly caught your attention and caused your eyes to snap back open. Growing alert, your head darted over your shoulder in a delayed response, the room once more spinning in your vision as you squinted at where you thought you’d heard the noise. Another metal groan from your fire escape met your ears and a brief surge of fear rushed through you.

“No need to panic,” Matt's familiar and somewhat muffled voice called out from behind the glass. “It’s just me.”

You almost immediately relaxed at the sight of him rising to his full height on the dark fire escape. Expelling a soft sigh of relief, a little smile slipped its way onto your lips next, thrilled that he was here even if you hadn’t been expecting a visit from your masked best friend this evening.

“Why’re you out there?” you called back.

“Because I'm…on patrol?” he answered through the glass.

Your grin grew wider as you turned more fully towards the window in your living room, the red form of him more noticeable with how he was standing on your fire escape just beside your window, the faint light from inside your apartment washing over him. Or rather washing over the two red forms of him, but you assumed the second was due to the alcohol in your system and not the sudden existence of a second Daredevil.

“You can come in,” you called out again, taking a few unsteady steps towards the window before immediately halting and grabbing onto your kitchen counter to steady yourself. “‘S’always unlocked for you,” you slurred out. “Unless you're–you're waiting for me to play you a theme song to enter to.”

“Theme song?” Matt’s confused voice called back.

“Y’know,” you continued, an amused grin pulling at your lips, “like if–if superheroes had a theme song or…something.”

You caught the sound of his laughter from out on your fire escape, the noise drawing forth a warm, pleasant feeling in your chest. You loved making him laugh.

“I’m not even going to ask what you’d suggest that would be right now,” he called back.

Teetering unsteadily on your feet, one hand still clutching the kitchen counter to keep yourself upright as your other hand still held onto the cold bottle of water, you giggled at the idea as he raised your window wide enough to climb through. The first song that came to mind was “Birthday Cake” by Rihanna, most likely due to it having been one of the last songs playing before you left the bar tonight, but also because you’d noticed how nice of an ass Matt had from the moment you met him–even if that was not what the song was about. Though the idea of him easily slipping through your window right now as that song played had you biting your bottom lip and fighting down a laugh. But of course Matt's sensitive ears still caught the sound, his head darting up before he smiled in your direction. A pang of sadness punched you in the gut at the sight of his charming smile beneath his cowl.

Why was he only your friend?

“Keeping this unlocked just for me?” he asked, righting himself in your living room before turning and closing the window after himself, shutting the sounds of the city back out of your apartment. “I'm touched but also now greatly concerned about your safety,” he teased as he focused back on you. “You're just on the third floor, don't assume I'm the only one willing to risk climbing up that.”

Your eyes followed the movement of his gloved hand, watching as he gestured at the fire escape behind himself. Before you had a chance to respond, the sound of his voice drew your vision back to the red lenses of his cowl, your hand gripping the counter even tighter in your grasp.

“But a theme song?” he asked in amusement. “Really? How much have you had to drink tonight?”

You laughed lightly, the thought of that particular song being the theme song for Matt's alter ego becoming more entertaining by the second.

“You're so dramatic,” you teased back, your words slurring together a bit as you ignored that little ache in your chest at the continued sight of his handsome smile. “You'd definitely have a theme song playing as you enter places.”

His head cocked curiously to the side at your comment and you couldn’t resist the grin at the sight. You always thought his head tilts were adorable; the way he listened closer to what you were saying often reminded you of a dog. The image of him on all fours hovering over you in bed briefly surfaced in your mind at the thought and you felt your pulse accelerate. Faintly through the haze of alcohol you caught the briefest twitch of his lips before he was speaking again.

“Excuse me, but, dramatic?” he shot back.

His voice quickly pulled you back from the mental image in your mind and you felt your face growing flushed. You hoped he’d blame the alcohol for the shift in your body as you nodded, the movement causing Matt to once more double in your vision.

“Yeah, I mean you–you're wearing a costume, Matt,” you said as you gestured at him. “That's pretty dramatic.”

He placed a hand against his chest, your eyes following the movement. You knew how strong and solid that chest was from the few times you'd had an excuse to hug him, but now you were itching to place your hand against it, too. Or to run your hand along the mysterious material of his tight-fitting suit in general.

“This is armor,” he pointed out simply. “It's not a costume.”

His voice once more drew you out of your thoughts, your attention returning to his mouth. The earnestness in his words had you biting your lip and fighting back another giggle. You noticed his smile had grown at the sound, his ears having still caught the noise.

“Matt, it–it has horns,” you countered, biting back a smile.

The corner of his lip twitched at your comment. “Fair point,” he agreed. “But you are drunk.”

“And that–” you said, swinging a finger towards his chest, “–is a poor change of topic.”

His head further canted to the side, his lips straightening along his face. “From the ever so important costume discussion?” he asked.

“No,” you said, setting your half-empty water bottle down and taking a step towards him. You stumbled and threw a hand out, catching yourself on the counter beside yourself with it again. “From why you're here.”

An amused chuckle rumbled out of him and you swore the sound itself vibrated through your entire body. Dammit, you would never cease loving being the cause of his laughter, even if somewhere in your mind you were aware he was laughing at you a little right now.

“Sweetheart,” he began, “we weren't discussing that even remotely. I can’t change the subject from a subject we weren't even on in the first place. I mean I know I smelt the alcohol on you from the sidewalk but…you’re far drunker than I anticipated.”

A heat ignited in your stomach at the term of endearment Matt occasionally threw out at you, your ears hardly hearing much else he’d said. Matt and you had only ever been friends, and in the years you'd known him he'd never called anyone else ‘sweetheart’ before–at least, not from what you'd ever heard. It both confused and excited you every time he called you that, the term slipping out of his mouth almost as if by accident each time.

“I uhm,” you began, pausing as your inebriated brain tried to catch up. “I may have…drank quite a bit tonight.”

Matt expelled a breathy laugh, one hand finally reaching up to remove the cowl from his head. You watched with bated breath as his handsome face revealed itself to you in the dim light of your living room. His other gloved hand reached up, combing through his dark strands of hair. Your heart clenched at the sight of how beautiful he was–as if you needed the reminder right now when you were about to go to sleep alone and drunk.

“I know,” Matt told you.

He took a step towards your coffee table and placed the cowl down on it, the gesture so casual that you wished it happened more often. Licking your lips nervously, you forced your gaze to return to Matt’s face once he began speaking again.

“You mentioned going out tonight, so I figured I’d make sure you got home safe,” he told you. “It wasn’t a busy night so I came up to check on you once I noticed just how much you smelled like alcohol. Wanted to make sure you were doing alright.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, surprised at his concern. “You–you didn’t have to…”

He grinned back, shrugging a shoulder. “I know,” he agreed. “I wanted to.” His expression shifted to something softer, his eyes focusing down on your body. “You sound very tired though. Maybe you should get to bed?”

Nodding your head, the room once more spun around you as you tried to push away that part of your brain which was still stuck on the way he’d called you ‘sweetheart.’ There was a nagging thought somewhere in your brain telling you that him showing up like this was something he never did for your other friends. Instead of focusing on that, you took a few steps towards your living room in an attempt to make it to your bedroom, but you swayed so much that your foot caught along a floorboard and began your inevitable drunk descent to the floor.

Matt immediately darted forward as you'd begun to fall, his gloved hands catching you by the shoulders in a tight grip before you'd gotten too far. Your hands instinctively flew up in response, grabbing onto Matt’s biceps to further steady yourself as your eyes snapped shut, a wave of dizziness rolling through you. Somewhere in your mind, though, you still noted how firm his muscles were beneath your death grip.

“Okay, you’re incredibly drunk, sweetheart,” Matt teased, your ears catching the affection in his voice and the term of endearment again. “Maybe I should help you.”

Swallowing hard, you slowly opened your eyes. His face was right before yours, the concern written on his expression was plain as day even with the hint of amusement. For a moment you lost yourself staring at him though, almost as if you were in a trance examining the laugh lines beside his eyes and the flecks of color inside of them as they focused on your chin. He had the prettiest eyes.

“You alright?” he asked.

Blinking rapidly, you realize you’d just been openly gawking at him. Flushing, you nodded and tried to right yourself, your hands releasing his biceps. “Yeah, sorry,” you muttered.

Matt didn’t completely release his hold on you, though he did instead wrap one of his arms around your shoulders as he began to help guide you through your living room and over towards your bedroom. The walk felt like it was longer than it really was with your mind hyper-focused on the weight of his arm around you, gently leading you across your apartment and into your bedroom.

When you reached your bed, Matt’s gloved hand darted out and pulled back the bed sheets before you had a chance. Not feeling as if you could easily slip out of the dress you’d worn tonight, and far too shy to ask Matt for help with something like that, you carefully climbed up into your bed still dressed in it. Sliding your legs beneath the sheets, your earlier exhaustion once more washed over you, your eyelids growing heavy as you began to lower your head down to the pillow. Beside the bed, Matt gently tugged the blankets up and over you, a hard to read expression on his face that was a vast difference to the amused one he’d had when he first showed up. Briefly you wondered what was on his mind before the thought vanished.

“You should get some rest,” Matt said softly, tucking you in. “You’re going to be feeling that in the morning, I can promise you that.”

Groaning at the truth in his statement, you rolled onto your side towards him. “I hate that you’re right,” you grumbled.

He chuckled lightly, the sound drawing a faint smile to your lips as you continued to stare up at him. The urge to reach out and touch him grew so strong that you had to force your hand to hold onto the sheets of your bed, fisting the material in your fingers. What you wouldn't give to trace the line of that jaw, to feel the scratch of his stubble along your fingertips.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Get some sleep.”

Eyes growing half-lidded, you emitted a discontented groan at his words. You much preferred the idea of staring at his handsome face with that confusing expression on it instead. Matt’s amused chuckle met your ears in response.

“You’re clearly exhausted, are you really going to fight me on going to sleep?” he asked.

The words tumbled out of your mouth in a tired jumble, your brain too exhausted and inebriated to know what you’d even said even after you’d said it.

“I’d rather look at you.”

Somewhere in your mind, you registered that Matt had stiffened beside your bed. A soft, warm look grew in his eyes as he gazed down at you lying there, but you weren’t fully aware of everything coming out of your mouth at this point, so the words only continued to spill out.

“‘Cause you’re so beautiful,” you continued. “And I like looking at you. I could stare at you all night, really.”

Matt paused for a moment, a crease forming between his brows. Silence momentarily fell over the bedroom as the exhaustion continued to drag you under.

“You…like looking at me?” he hesitantly asked.

Eyelids lowering against your will, you faintly nodded against the pillow. “Mhmm,” you hummed out, sleep gradually beginning to take you. “Always…liked you.”

“You–you have?” Matt questioned in surprise.

Barely awake, you hummed out an affirmative. “Shame we’re just…friends,” you murmured.

You swore you felt something rough brush gently along the side of your cheek, but with your eyes closed you couldn’t tell if you’d imagined it or not. And then just as quickly afterwards, you’d fallen asleep.

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @millennial-birkin @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1 @scriptedmoon @lucienofthelakes @sarahskywalker-amidala @flowher @loves0phelia @a-half-empty-g1rl @zomtart @justvalkyrie @steve-chandler

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil #Tuna-Tober 2024

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forlix · 1 year ago

Text

𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.

— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit

𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡

y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx

if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom

11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views

bokkie 🐣 liked your post.

“My tweet?”

You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.

“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"

A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:

je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀

You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"

je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch

You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."

je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(

An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”

At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.

“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”

Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.

You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.

je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again

“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."

Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”

You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.

“Yeah, you alright?”

“The mouse,” you say helplessly.

“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”

A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”

“I know.”

This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.

Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.

Do you agree? Absolutely.

Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.

Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.

A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.

But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.

There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.

The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.

A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.

“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”

Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.

It’s either your mom, or…

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.

“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"

“Yes, please.”

He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.

You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.

There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.

That is all he needs to know.

Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.

je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??

y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 9 months ago

Text

(Dark!) BNHA: Toxic Relationship

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

Boys -> Hawks + Bakugo + Dabi + Deku

Reaction: Moments from your toxic relationship with your Pro-Hero boyfriend.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Abuse; Manipulation; Non-con.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Let me know if you like this reaction format or what 🙂

–

Hawks

“Y/n is a real clutz, y’know. Can’t even walk on even ground without tripping over her own feet.”

Your cheeks flame with humiliation as the camera pans to the crowd that laughs heartily at the demeaning words, as if Keigo had dropped the funniest joke they’ve ever heard.

“That’s adorable.” the woman laughs, “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she has no quirk? I believe you said she is quirkless, right?”

Keigo chuckles, nodding as he crosses an ankle over his knee.

“She sure is. Can’t even imagine what type of quirk she’d have, she’s just not the type.”

Your hand grips the remote tighter. What does he mean by that? Does he think you’re not good enough to have a quirk?

You consider turning off the TV, but fortunately the interviewer changes the subject. They casually speak about the current stance of heroes and their struggles on fighting off criminals and villains.

Keigo is charming as usual, delivering answers that are a perfect portrait of responsibility with a sprinkle of humor. He’s good like that, even though his previous answers left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Somehow, they end up reaching the topic of hobbies and free time.

“Going Pro Hero leaves little time for myself, so sadly I don’t really have much time for hobbies. Wish I had.” he says humbly. “My girlfriend has lots of them, though.”

You inhale sharply. Not again.

For your misfortune, the woman gets interested.

Perhaps because it’s an exclusive interview and her network channel gave her orders to squeeze every drop of information they can get on Hawks’ personal life.

“What type of hobbies? She looks like she’s a great cook.” she tries to guess, but Keigo bursts laughing, holding his belly in an exaggerated mannerism.

“Nah, cooking isn’t really her department. Burned eggs and half-cooked pancakes are more her style. She doesn’t even-”

You change channels in a heartbeat, bursting in tears at the low insults.

You’re not that bad. Sure, you’re not amazing at cooking, but never once did Keigo complain when he eats the food you diligently make after he returns from patrols.

And now he slanders you on national television?

And the worst part? It’s not even the first time he’s done this.

Dabi

“There’s nothing to eat in the fridge.”

“There is.”

“There isn’t.”

You stop writing your notes, swallowing back an annoyed sigh, already aware of what was happening.

“There is food in the fridge.” you repeat, “You just have to cook it.”

Dabi looks at you, unimpressed.

“No shit Sherlock. Maybe you can do it for me.”

“You serious?”

Meeting his arrogant smirk, you huff.

“Dead serious, babe. Not like you’re busy anyways.”

Your mouth drops at his audacity and you open your arms to indicate the mess of books, papers and pens in front of you.

“I’m studying, Dabi. Can’t you see that? Grow up and cook for yourself, yeah?” you snap your attention back to your books, but your mood has already turned sour.

You pretend to scribble down a few words when Dabi walks to you slowly. He peeks into your annotations, snorting.

“That handwriting is kinda shitty.” he mocks you. “Besides, what exactly are you even studying for? You’re not exactly cut out to be a doctor, y’know? Not enough brain cells in you to become that.”

You glare at him, angrily swatting away the hand that condescendingly tries to pet your hair.

“You’re such an asshole, Dabi. Maybe if your life revolved around something other than your stupid daddy’s issues, you would actually get a job. Not like Endeavour is worried sick about you, not when he’s got Shoto.” you spit the words venously.

Not the nicest words, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to bother.

A dark shade crosses Dabi’s face, his amused expression turning colder. You’d be lying if the sight didn’t ignite some fear in you.

“Is that so?” his crooked smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And why would I need a job - or Endeavour, by that matter - when I have you?”

His hand reaches for your shoulder and there’s an edge in his eyes that immobilizes you. You shouldn’t have mentioned Endeavour.

“I’m not with you because of that bitchy attitude, you know. I like my girl to know who’s in charge. Respect is really important in a relationship and your behavior is making me really upset, baby.” his tone is scaringly soft, and his hand travels to your neck.

You hold your breath when the staples on his hand scratch against the delicate skin of your throat. “So, if you need me to remind you of your place, I’ll gladly help you with that.”

His fingers heat up at a low temperature, not enough to actually burn you but it doesn’t stop the lonely tear that slides from your eye, the only sign of the chilling terror you’re feeling.

He leans forward, kissing your forehead before sliding his hand away.

“Are we understood?”

The nod you give him is shaky at best, but Dabi smiles nonetheless.

“Now, how about that food you’re gonna make me?”

Bakugo

“I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Besides a low hum, Bakugo doesn’t acknowledge you much, too busy French kissing your neck.

His hands head for your ass, provoking a wince in you when he gropes it with unnecessary strength, your left ass cheek being kneaded like it’s dough.

Katsuki uses his grip on your ass to push your hips forward even as you complain again. The thin fabric of his sweatpants does nothing to hide the hardness that shamelessly rubs against your thigh.

“Katsuki.”

Once again he gives no sign of hearing you, rolling his hips with more urgency and you barely catch the tired groan that almost rolls away from you.

The clock on your side reminds you that despite the early hour, you’ll only have 6 hours to sleep.

You really have to sleep and if you’re being honest, tonight you’re not feeling sexy or horny enough to sleep with your boyfriend.

But that doesn’t make you feel any less awkward when Bakugo’s movements turn more vigorous and needy, humping your naked thigh as if he’s fucking it while you remain as alive as a statue.

“Fuck, this isn’t enough.” he growls against your skin, and your heart skips a beat when his hands reach for your shorts, tugging them down halfway until you panickedly grab his wrist, wiggling your body away from his.

“Seriously, Kats, I’m not in the mood tonight.” you say, quickly pulling back your shorts.

“You fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls through gritted teeth, still hovering above you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you timidly nod.

“Maybe we can do this tomorrow? It’s just that-”

“Yeah, whatever. Not like you haven’t used that stupid excuse on me before.”

Your eyebrows raise with surprise at the bitter tone on his voice as he gruffs, pushing himself off you.

“I’m not making up excuses.”

“The hell you aren’t.” he looks at you, angry. “Every time I try to start something, you turn into a damn nun. Always too freakin’ tired, too busy or not in the mood.”

He scowls, spiky blonde hair falling to his eyes.

“All you have to do is open your goddamn legs and let me do the rest, and you can’t even do that.”

His words hit a sore spot and he turns his back on you, settling on the distant side of the bed after delivering strained punches to the pillow to soften it up.

“Maybe I go after those Dynamite's groupies that are always throwing themselves at me. Since you never want to fuck anymore.”

You’re left too stunned to speak, sadness blossoming at the cruel meaning of his words and it’s a struggle to swallow the tears.

He wouldn’t really, would he? But your mind lingers on the disturbing thought. He’s popular with girls, even with his angry mood.

Bakugo is tall, muscular and not even the ever present scowl in his face is able to contradict the attractive facial features he’s been blessed with. Meanwhile you’re just mediocre, if even that...

Your insecurities strike back, taunting you.

Your hand reaches for his arm before you even realize it, and you’re mildly surprised when he doesn’t shake you off.

“The hell you want now?”

Pulling on his arm until he finally turns to the side, you kiss him.

He groans against your lips, allowing your hand to rest on the warm plane of his chest and you let it slide lower until it touches his clothed member.

Neither of you speak a word, but you feel Bakugo smirking against your lips while he practically shoves your shorts down.

You allow yourself go limp underneath him, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the way he wants to. Holding back a tired sigh when the fluorescent numbers on the clock mock you.

You really have to wake up early.

Deku

“Are you serious, Izuku?”

The tall hero jumps, eyes widening almost comically when he realizes you’re standing on the bedroom’s doorway and not cleaning the kitchen, like he clearly assumed you to be.

“I wasn’t- The phone-” he stammers with his words, plowing your phone onto the bed with a bit too much force.

Crossing your arms, you flash him a frustrated glare.

“You promised me you wouldn’t spy on my phone anymore, Izuku.” your stern tone has him frowning and Izuku practically sprints closer to you.

“I wasn’t spying! I was just- just checking the time.” his words aren’t convincing enough for you to actually believe in him.

You squint your eyes at him, dodging his grabby hands with a nasty slap, despite the hurt expression on his face.

“Izuku.”

“I wasn’t! C’mon, you gotta believe in me.”

You don’t.

“Even if I did go through your phone - which I didn’t - why would that be such a problem?” he complains, dragging his voice. “Do you have something to hide or what?”

You point a warning finger at him.

“Don’t you dare. This isn’t about me. You’re the one who went behind my back because you’re just too insecure to fully trust me.”

He shakes his head, emerald eyes turning feverish.

“You’re being dramatic, of course I trust you.”

“You don’t, stop lying.”

“I do trust you!” his voice rises in volume.

“No, you don’t!” you scream, voice breaking before you crumble in tears.

You’re exhausted. Of arguing, of dealing with Izuku, of everything. When did things turn so frustrating, so tiring? Why does he always have to ruin things for you?

Izuku curses under his breath before rushing to you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace as you cry on his chest.

“You don’t. You never will and I know that.” he stays silent, not contradicting you this time.

He lets you cry on his chest, his hand gently caressing your hair as he mutters apologies.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Izuku hugs you harder, arms tightening around you. “I’ll do better, okay? I promise, I will.”

And like a fool, you accept his promise - even if you know it’s meant to be broken.

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naburi · 6 months ago

Text

LET’S CLEAN UP

KARINA X READER

TAGS: GYM, EXHIBITIONISM, TEASING, MASTURBATION

1.5K WORDS

Long pitch black hair, white pale skin, dangerous curves that can lead you to hell, soft body that feels like heaven. You have been a member of this gym for 3 months now, you heard different rumors about how fine this young woman is, you don’t believe the rumor until you’re looking at her eye to eye alone in the gym.

She’s always wearing a mask, sometimes adding a cap, and wears baggy clothes to conceal her seductive parts but how long can someone hide their busty mounds, they lightly bounces in her every walk, her big front always revealing itself no matter her clothes. They said she’s trying to not attract any unwanted attention but her body does the opposite. That busty body takes all the eyes in every vicinity it occupies, they said when she’s around, men only do two things, they either try to keep their glances discreet or they try to lie to themselves that they are not distraught by how one woman can be that sexy. For everyone, her body is the perfect distraction.

She’s a former trainee who gave up on her dreams due to how dark the K-pop world is. They hear rumors about how small companies tried to take “advantage” of her while big companies tried to make her “audition” with a promise of debuting with their girl groups. Some say she’s too sexy for K-pop, that her body is made to be seen in a different “industry.” These rumors pique curiosity in all the minds of the gym members. They all wanted to see if there’s any truth to these rumors, regular gym members said they saw her during office hours, some say they saw her late at night, it seems like she’s actively avoiding crowded hours in the gym. Some say that these stories about this woman are just a hoax to attract more people to go to this gym. You believe the latter because if she’s real, she should be famous or trending in this social media world we live in.

Tired eyes but can’t seem to find sleep, it’s 3 am but your body feels more awake than ever, you decided to tire your body to sleep and hit the gym real quick. Driving on, you expect to see at least a few people in these early hours. When you arrived at almost 4 am, you saw a few cars in the parking lot. Sliding your card and entering the exclusive 24 hours gym, only background gym songs are the only thing that welcomes you. You walk around to see if there’s any people with you. It seems like you have the gym by yourself which actually excites you. You rush happily to the locker room to bring down your things, suddenly you hear the automatic doors open. You humorously get annoyed by the fact that you can’t enjoy the gym by yourself now, until you see the silhouette of who shares the gym with you.

Long pitch black hair, white pale skin, wears a face mask and baggy clothes that forms around a busty body. This is the first time you have seen this person, the sudden realization hits you. The rumors, the rumors about a woman, a woman who is now in front of your eyes. You're trying to keep your glances discreet because you don’t want her to creep out by you. Both of you doing some stretching at the same time, you're a few feet away from her, you saw yourself looking at their reflection through the big gym mirrors, which she quickly noticed. You got embarrassed how she caught you looking at her. After you both finish stretching up, you move to the dumbbell rack to lift some light weight first, she moves to the treadmills to do some light cardio first. She started to walk and you noticed the light bounces of her mounds, the mirror in front of her only gives you a better look of those bounces. You’re trying to do your workout but this woman is too sexy to keep lying to yourself so that you are not distracted. After doing some dumbbell raises, the only thing you can do is to stare at her, it seems like your body is more honest than you.

She’s now doing light jogging, those mounds are bouncing even more. She’s wearing a large white shirt trying to cover her large mounds, her bottocks are also forming out of her large shirt with every jog she takes. Your eyes are glued to every curve of her, it takes you a minute to realize that she’s also looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. Your stares can’t hide their intentions, you want to see more of this woman, there’s a lot on your mind and none of them are morally right. You want to see more of her which excites her. She’s finally done with her treadmill warm which feels like an endless runway walk. You saw her smirk after turning around to move to the barbel rack. Looking at you to make sure she still has your attention, she removes her white shirt showing a gray tight shirt which reveals boobs that are made to be sinned. How those boobs shape, how they paired perfectly to her lustful body is what makes it Dangerous.

You're still stuck at your seat, still can’t believe what you’re witnessing. She’s now positioning herself to do RDLs, her ass infront of you, she leaning forward showing how those massive boobs are hanging down to her slim body. As you rise up, while torso is going down, your getting overwhelmed by the doggy positions filling your head, this distraught shows in your face which she happily saw, each movement she did feels more sluttier than the early ones, its seems like your in a trance with how her body moves. She moves inside the barbell rack, positioning to a barbell squats. Putting the bar on her back, she moves her butt straight down, stretching her black pants to conform to her busty ass, the thought riding you while slamming that ass to your dick. Made you caress your dick over your tight shorts, you didn’t care is she saw you touching your hard dick, her body made you unable to think properly, seeing her face in the reflection, you saw her give a head nod, you know what she was signaling to go on, but you don’t want to be wrong. Her seeing you hesitate made her look dissatisfied, this pushed you to rushly touch your dick again, she gave you a nod again, she’s now waiting at what you're about to do. You put your hands in your shorts to rub it. This made her smile for a while but she stares at you trying to indicate something. She wants you to let her see how you can’t control yourself around her.

You move down your shorts which made your dick sprung out in hardness, she put the bar on the rack, now she’s the one watching you. You move your hand from up to down slowly, letting her see how hard she made you feel. She gives a signal again, she wants you to let it out how horny she made you feel. You start to beat your hard dick while keeping your eye contact with her. She’s also getting hot from the scene she’s looking at, she starts to touch those busty boobs over her tight shirts. She put two hands on the side of her boobs squishing both of her inwards, she put her hands under her boobs pulling the massive pair upward to give you a better perspective how big they really are. This makes you hornier, you want to stand up to touch them yourself but she stops you with a threatening glare. She’s setting boundaries you can’t cross or else she will stop the session. You sit down again which she rewards you for. She pulls her shirt up to reveal a sweaty sports bra that keeps the seductive boobs to show its true beauty.

She pulls down her bra revealing a glistening massive boobs, it’s more than you can imagine, the sweat which looks like oil made her boobs more erotic, how her boobs have the roundest of shape, how her boobs might be the best pair of tits you ever laid eyes on. She's looking straight at you while making a circular motion touching her erect nipples. The sight of you beating your dick harder made her play with her nipples more and starting to pinch them, her erotic face while she’s touching her boobs made your body even hotter. She sits down at a nearby gym bench, resting her back, groping one of her tits while inserting one into her mouth, she’s sucking and licking her tits like she’s craving for it. One of her hands is touching herself over her pants. How her slim fingers made her boobs that much massive, her body sweating due to how hot she feels, how heavy she breathes as she’s having the highest of her libido. This sight of a woman touching herself made you have the best climax you ever had. You sprut it all over the gym mat, some still flowing out of your dick. Your head rests back on the bench, you're sitting and letting your high go.

“Let’s clean up”, are the first words you heard from her.

#aespa smut #k pop smut #reader smut #karina smut #karina x reader #smut

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reidmarieprentiss · 4 months ago

Text

Lost in Translation: Part One

Summary: Six years after Spencer Reid left you all alone in your dorm room, you’ve moved on and built a new life in Virginia, becoming close friends with Derek Morgan. When Spencer unexpectedly reappears as part of Derek’s team, old feelings resurface.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, friendly fluff

Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption, past rejection, reflecting on past hurt, seeing the person who hurt you, Spencer still being a dumb man, talks of past hook ups

Word count: 9.2k

a/n: hiiii this is kind of a filler? it's just a lot of angst and build up for the reconciliation 👀

main masterlist prologue part two part three part four

Six years later, Reid sat on the back of an ambulance, the adrenaline of the situation slowly ebbing away as medics checked him over. His hair was mussed, and his face bore bruises from the day's takedown, but his eyes were clear, focused, if a little distant. Hotch approached, relief etched across his face, but concern still lingering in his eyes as he looked down at Reid.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly,” Hotch said, his tone light, though laced with genuine worry.

Reid glanced up, then looked off into the distance, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Hotch,” he said, pausing for just a moment before meeting his gaze, “I was a 12-year-old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school.” He let the statement hang in the air for effect before adding, “You kick like a 9-year-old girl.”

Hotch’s serious expression cracked into a grin, the tension of the day releasing in that shared moment of humor. He gave Reid an appreciative nod, proud that even now, even after everything, he could find a way to see the light in the darkness. They’d taken a risk to apprehend the unsub—a risk that had paid off. The case was closed, and most importantly, Spencer was okay.

Once the team returned to Quantico, Penelope Garcia came barreling toward them like a whirlwind, eyes wide with concern as she made a beeline for Spencer.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” she asked, fussing over him, brushing nonexistent dust off his jacket. “I heard what happened, and I nearly had a heart attack, and you know how hard I work to keep this heart in tip-top shape.”

Derek let out a chuckle, looping an arm around Spencer's shoulders and giving him a good-natured shake. “Don't worry, Baby Girl,” he said. “Pretty Boy here is tougher than he looks.”

Elle stood nearby, a smirk tugging at her lips. “So what do you say, Reid? Can we take you out for a drink to celebrate? Show you a little team bonding now that we’re back in one piece?”

The offer made Spencer stiffen, a flicker of unease passing through his eyes. He hadn’t had his first drink yet—never quite found the right moment. His last encounter with alcohol flashed through his mind, from when he was still working on his PhD. He'd been at a party, talking to someone he wanted to take home... until they got too drunk and threw up on him, which put him off the idea of drinking ever since.

“Uhh,” Spencer started, rubbing the back of his neck as he awkwardly shrugged Derek’s arm off. “I’m not sure—”

“Nuh-uh,” Derek cut him off with a playful but firm shake of his head. “None of that, kid. You’re part of this team, and it’s time we show you what that means. Drinks on us. One drink won’t hurt, right?”

Spencer looked between them—Derek’s grin, Elle’s teasing smile, and Penelope’s excited nodding—and felt the reluctant pull of acceptance. They weren’t going to take no for an answer, and for a moment, he let himself relax. Maybe a night out with the team wouldn't be so bad.

The bar was loud and buzzing with life. The team was clustered around a table, drinks in hand, and the mood was light, almost celebratory. Laughter echoed over clinking glasses as Derek teased Spencer about finally being out for drinks, Elle and JJ swapped jokes, and Hotch even cracked a rare smile as Penelope regaled everyone with her overly-dramatic reenactment of their last case. Spencer found himself laughing along, more relaxed than he thought he’d be, though he stayed firmly planted with his untouched glass of club soda.

Amid the fun, Derek's phone buzzed loudly, and he stood to answer it, holding up a hand to excuse himself. “Hold that thought, guys,” he said, flashing his signature grin as he walked a little away from the table, pressing the phone to his ear. The team continued their conversation, only pausing when Derek returned, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, guys,” he said, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “My lady is in distress; I gotta go rescue her from a bad date.”

That earned a round of good-natured chuckles from the team. Elle raised an eyebrow, asking, “Need us to come with, knight in shining armor?”

But Spencer, the one to always take things literally, frowned in confusion. “Your girlfriend is on a date with someone else?” he asked, tilting his head like he was trying to figure out a complex puzzle.

That only made everyone laugh harder, JJ practically doubling over and Hotch shaking his head with amusement. Derek just clapped Spencer on the back, his chuckle deep and hearty.

Penelope, ever the playful dramatist, wiped away an imaginary tear. “As much as it pains me that my Chocolate Thunder has another woman in his life,” she sighed, draping an arm dramatically over her forehead, “that’s his best friend, not his girlfriend. He’s just playing superhero tonight.”

“Yeah, she’s just my little lady,” Derek explained, still smiling as he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “And trust me, she needs saving from some pretty questionable dates.”

Spencer nodded slowly, his eyes darting around as if processing this new piece of social information, a small “ohhh” escaping his lips as he finally understood. The rest of the team just laughed and clinked their glasses together, waving Derek off as he headed out to play the role of rescuer once again.

—

You smiled awkwardly, forcing a laugh as you tapped your foot under the table, hoping the nervous rhythm would hide your growing discomfort. Across from you, your date sat with an overly self-satisfied grin, clearly pleased with themselves for whatever joke they’d just told.

“Funny, right?” they said, leaning back confidently, their voice loud enough to make a few heads turn.

“Mhm,” you nodded, plastering on your best smile, the kind you’d practiced for uncomfortable situations just like this. “So funny.”

The date was dragging on, each minute feeling like an hour, and you kept glancing at the exit, hoping for some way to end it without seeming rude. You were running out of excuses when finally, you heard a familiar, steady voice that filled you with instant relief.

“Y/N! Baby!” Derek’s voice boomed from behind you, his face contorted into a fake, but convincingly angry, expression as he made his way over to your table. “It’s time to go,” he said through gritted teeth, playing the role perfectly.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, exaggerating your surprise as you quickly gathered your things, casting a regretful glance at your bewildered date. “Sorry, I have to—um, gotta go, you know how it is.”

“Now,” Derek growled, his eyes flashing dangerously as he reached for your arm with a protective grip. You couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips as he pulled you away, your heart racing with gratitude at how he always showed up just in time to save you from situations exactly like this.

As soon as the two of you stepped outside, you burst into laughter, the tension from the horrible date evaporating with each breathless chuckle. “What was that?” you cried out in amusement, doubling over as you tried to catch your breath.

Derek grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “I thought it would be funny to make it look like you were cheating on me,” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You laughed again, shaking your head as you nudged him playfully. “Wow, thanks, Derek. That’s just great! I’m sure they think I’m a horrible person now.”

“Better they think that than you being stuck in there any longer,” he teased, shrugging playfully. “Besides, who wouldn’t want to believe they were dating me?” He gave a mock-innocent smile, and you couldn't help but laugh harder, grateful that your night had turned from painfully awkward to genuinely fun—all thanks to your "knight" in his shining sense of humor.

—

After graduation, you packed up and moved to Virginia, seeking a fresh start and the next chapter of your life. It didn’t take long for you to meet Derek Morgan—charismatic, warm, and the kind of person who instantly made you feel like you’d known each other forever. Quickly, you were inseparable, your friendship deepening with every shared joke, every late-night conversation.

When you first met Derek, it wasn’t at a bar, but in the paint aisle of a hardware store. He was standing there, staring at the rows of paint swatches like they might leap off the shelf and attack him, clearly out of his element. You, meanwhile, were lost in your shopping list, trying to mentally organize what you needed. It wasn’t until you absentmindedly turned and bumped into him, sending a few swatches fluttering to the floor, that either of you spoke.

“Oh, sorry!” you said, laughing awkwardly as you bent to pick up the fallen cards. “I didn’t see you there.”

“No problem,” Derek replied with a chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Though, I think I need all the help I can get. You know anything about paint? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure these swatches are written in a different language.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at the paint chips in his hand. Normally, you’d have kept to yourself, but something about his friendly demeanor made it easy to offer help. “Well,” you said, pointing at the colors, “if you’re looking for something neutral but warm, I’d go with this one. It’s versatile, and won’t make the room feel too dark.”

Derek grinned, visibly relieved. “I like the way you think. You might’ve just saved me from turning my place into a disaster.”

That lighthearted, slightly awkward interaction became the start of an unexpected friendship. You didn’t realize it then, but Derek saw more than just someone who could offer advice on paint. He noticed the cautious way you carried yourself, the hesitation in your voice, and the guarded way you held back, even in a simple conversation. It was subtle, but Derek could sense it—that you were someone who had been hurt, someone who was used to keeping people at arm’s length.

It was in that moment, after you helped him, that Derek decided he wasn’t going to let you disappear into the background. He saw someone who needed a friend, even if you didn’t know it yet, and he was determined to be that person for you.

He pushed his way into your world, piece by piece, until you found yourself leaning on him, confiding in him, and letting him be the kind of friend you never thought you'd find again. Derek was determined to be there for you, and in a way you never saw coming, he had become the person who would stand by you, even when you were reluctant to let him in.

Over time, you confided in Derek about your college heartbreak, sharing all the hurt, the confusion, and the sense of betrayal that still lingered. You never mentioned names, though—the pain was still too raw, and you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it in more detail than necessary. Derek listened, always understanding, never pressing for more than you were ready to share. He knew when to joke to make you laugh and when to sit in silence to let you breathe.

At first, the attraction between you and Derek was undeniable. His charming smile, his confidence—it was easy to get lost in that. One night, curiosity and chemistry got the better of you both, and you found yourselves in a brief, passionate rendezvous. But once the moment passed, you both realized that while there was undeniable physical chemistry, the emotional spark that would take you beyond a fling wasn’t there.

So, you stayed friends—really good friends. And it was a decision that felt right. Derek became your closest companion, someone you trusted deeply, someone who knew all of you without needing to be anything more than your best friend. And from then on, your bond was stronger than any attraction that had once been between you.

Derek had always been eager to introduce you to his team, his “family,” as he called them. But every time he brought it up, you found yourself hesitant, a lingering anxiety wrapping tightly around your chest. The thought of meeting a group of strangers made your pulse quicken, and after what happened with Spencer, you found it hard to let people in—afraid that they’d get close only to walk out when you finally let your guard down.

But Derek was persistent. He’d reassure you that they’d love you, that they were good people, that they’d make you feel right at home. And after months of coaxing, he finally wore you down. So on the night he arranged for everyone to meet at a bar, you arrived early, nerves buzzing through you as you kept fidgeting with your glass of water, the ice clinking noisily. Derek sat beside you, his hand casually draped over the back of your chair, giving you little reassuring nudges and playful teasing to calm you down.

It wasn’t long before they arrived—Elle, JJ, Hotch, and Penelope. They came in together, the energy between them electric and warm, like a group who had seen each other through everything and then some. You felt the weight of their eyes on you as Derek quickly waved them over, and before you knew it, introductions were happening all at once.

Elle, with her steady, confident smile. JJ, kind and instantly friendly, making you feel a little more at ease. Hotch was reserved but polite, offering you a nod that felt more comforting than intimidating. And Penelope—bright, enthusiastic, and full of life—immediately pulled you into a hug that you didn’t quite expect but somehow needed.

“Welcome to the team... kinda!” Penelope laughed, pulling back to look you up and down, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

The team was warm, and their humor put you at ease more than you expected. “Derek told me you were gorgeous, but wow!” Penelope said, grinning as she gestured to your outfit. “He did not do you justice! I should've known he’d undersell a masterpiece.”

You blushed, ducking your head, and Derek rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh, come on, Garcia, now you’re just making her nervous,” he said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying the playful teasing.

“Someone has to make up for your terrible intro,” Elle joked, raising her drink in your direction. “He probably didn’t even tell you our names before dragging you here, did he?”

“Well, actually—” you started to defend him, but JJ leaned in with a grin.

“Oh, he probably did,” she said, flashing a knowing smile. “But did he tell you the good stuff? Because Hotch over here is not just any team leader—he’s secretly a rock star at karaoke.”

Hotch looked up from his drink, arching an eyebrow with mock disapproval. “Secretly, JJ?” he said dryly. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who signed us all up for ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ last time.”

The conversation flowed smoothly, light and airy, with everyone sharing bits of their day and funny anecdotes about past cases. You were finally feeling like you could relax, laughing along with the team and even chiming in here and there. Penelope asked about your work, Hotch teased Derek about his dedication to “fitness,” and JJ leaned in with questions about your interests, trying to make you feel comfortable.

Then Elle, who had been quietly observing, tilted her head with a curious smile. “So, Y/N,” she said, her eyes twinkling with humor, “we heard Derek had to save you from a bad date last week.”

A groan escaped you before you could help it, and Derek let out a bark of laughter beside you. “Oh, man, don’t make her relive that nightmare,” he said, shaking his head.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you said, smiling despite yourself as all eyes turned to you, eager for details. “I mean... yeah, I was on a pretty terrible date. The kind where you just... start praying for a natural disaster to get you out of there.”

Penelope gasped, holding a hand to her heart. “Spill! What happened?”

“Okay, okay,” you said, waving your hands, “So I’m sitting there, right? And this person—well, let’s just say they were a little too confident. They started cracking all these jokes that were... I mean, I think they thought they were funny, but they were more like... really weird stand-up comedy? And then, out of nowhere, they start quizzing me on, like, the most random trivia ever.”

JJ snorted into her drink. “Like what?”

“Like, ‘What’s the capital of Paraguay?’” you said, imitating your date’s deep, overly-serious tone. “And when I didn’t know, he looked at me like I just insulted his whole family.”

The whole table burst into laughter, and Derek shook his head, leaning back with a smirk. “See, I told you—you dodged a bullet there, lady.”

“And that’s where Derek came in,” you continued, grinning. “He stormed in, looking like an angry boyfriend ready to throw down, and said ‘Baby, we gotta go—now.’ Scared the poor chap half to death.”

“That’s my Derek,” Elle said, raising her glass in a toast.

You shrugged with a playful smile. “Gotta admit, it was a pretty solid rescue.”

Penelope’s eyes shone as she giggled, “I wish I knew I could call on Derek every time I get stuck on a boring date. You’re lucky you used it!”

“Yeah,” you said, your smile turning genuine as you looked over at Derek, who just winked at you. “I am lucky.”

You felt the anxiety still fluttering inside but found yourself starting to relax in the presence of their welcoming smiles. Maybe Derek was right—maybe this could be the start of something good.

But that thought was ruined the moment Spencer walked into the bar, a wave of panic hit you like a tidal wave, your pulse spiking as you leaned into Derek, whispering frantically, “That’s the guy!”

“What guy?” Derek asked, his brow furrowing in concern as he leaned closer.

“The guy from college! The one who led me on? Smashed and dashed? Broke my heart?”

Derek’s eyes went wide as the realization hit him, and he started to push up his sleeves, his expression shifting from confusion to determination. “Oh shit. Which one? I need to go have a little chat with this asshole.”

“That one!” you pointed discreetly, your voice tight with urgency. “String bean, 10 o’clock.”

Derek’s gaze followed your finger, his mouth opening in disbelief. “Spencer?”

“Wait,” you froze, eyes darting between Derek and Spencer. “How do you know Spencer?”

Derek blinked rapidly, running a hand over his face. “No way. No fucking way.”

“What, Derek, what?” you asked, anxiety gnawing at your insides.

“Derek, what’s going on?” Elle asked, noticing the tension suddenly spiking at the table.

But before either of you could explain, Spencer was already walking toward your group. And without hesitation, Derek shouted across the room, loud enough for the whole bar to hear, “Spencer Reid, you whore!”

The bar fell into stunned silence, every conversation dropping as heads turned toward Derek and then to Spencer, who froze mid-step. The confused, panicked look on Spencer’s face was mirrored by the team around you, all of them staring at Derek as if waiting for some kind of explanation.

But none of that mattered, because the second Derek’s words hung in the air, you felt like you were going to combust. Your chest tightened, your ears burned, and you needed to escape—now.

You couldn’t bear the sight of Spencer standing there, eyes wide and confused, especially not when he looked so good—his curls a bit longer, his frame more filled out but still carrying that awkwardly endearing energy you remembered all too well. It only made the hurt twist deeper in your chest, the flood of memories rushing back as if no time had passed at all.

Before anyone could say a word, you bolted out of your seat, practically running toward the exit, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you pushed through the door, away from the memories, the hurt, and the undeniable pull that Spencer still seemed to have on you.

After Derek’s loud declaration, the team was left bumbling in confusion, their chatter overlapping as they tried to make sense of what had just happened.

“Wait, what did you just say?” JJ asked, her eyes darting between Derek and Spencer, trying to catch up.

“Did you just call Reid a whore?” Elle added, her voice rising with disbelief.

Hotch's expression hardened with concern and confusion, his eyes narrowing at Derek. “Care to explain what’s going on here?”

Meanwhile, Penelope’s gaze darted frantically between you, Derek, and the stunned Spencer, her mouth hanging open as if trying to piece together a puzzle with half the pieces missing. “Okay, someone fill me in, because this is getting juicy—”

Through it all, Derek’s eyes were locked on Spencer like a hawk eyeing its prey, shoulders squared, jaw tight, and very ready to pounce. Spencer was still standing frozen in place, his expression an awkward mix of shock, confusion, and now—seeing Derek’s glare—genuine fear. He didn’t know whether to step forward, run, or explain himself. It was as if the whole bar had gone silent, the weight of everyone's eyes pressing down on him like a spotlight he couldn’t escape.

“Pretty boy,” Derek said, his voice low and almost menacing as he kept his eyes locked on Spencer. The tension between them was palpable, the friendly atmosphere of moments ago evaporating into something heavy and dangerous. “Over here. Now.”

Spencer swallowed hard, glancing around the bar as if trying to find an escape route, but there was none—just the team’s bewildered faces and Derek’s unwavering stare. Slowly, hesitantly, he started walking toward the table, his eyes darting nervously between the team and Derek, clearly aware that whatever was going on was about to explode.

The whole team was silent, eyes wide as they watched the confrontation unfold, utterly confused but drawn in, unable to look away.

“What’s going on, Derek?” Spencer’s voice came out weak, barely holding it together as he stood awkwardly in front of the table, hands fidgeting at his sides. He glanced nervously at Derek’s clenched jaw, clearly realizing this wasn’t just some joke he wasn’t in on.

Derek huffed, his eyes narrowing further as he stood up to step closer to Spencer, his presence towering over him. “Y/N Y/L,” he said, the name coming out like a loaded accusation. “Ring a bell?”

The color drained from Spencer’s face, his expression shifting from confusion to sheer panic. Of course, he knew that name. He knew it well—he’d never forgotten. You never gave him your full name, but that hadn’t stopped him from wanting to know everything about you after that night. And so, in a moment of curiosity, guilt, and longing, he’d used his professor access to look you up in the university directory, hoping to learn more, hoping to... maybe reach out. But he'd never followed through, instead burying that memory deep, where he thought it would stay forever.

Now, that past had clawed its way to the surface. Spencer gulped, eyes wide, his voice coming out as a barely audible mumble. “Um... why?”

The whole team’s heads bobbed back and forth between the two men like they were watching a tennis match, confusion written all over their faces. JJ’s brow furrowed in disbelief, Elle leaned forward as if ready to pounce on whatever truth was about to spill out, and Penelope’s eyes sparkled with intrigue, biting back a question to let the moment unfold.

“Because she was just sitting here,” Derek said, his voice darkening with barely contained anger, “and when you walked in, she ran out.”

The weight of his words dropped like a bomb, and the team’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. It took a moment for the pieces to fall into place, but when they did, the tension in the air became almost suffocating.

“Wait...” Elle gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as the realization hit her. “Is that what Y/N was whispering about?”

JJ's eyes darted to Spencer, shock and disappointment painted across her face. “Oh my god, Spencer!” she exclaimed, her voice rising above the din of the bar. “What did you do?”

Spencer's head hung low, his face pale as all eyes landed on him, his teammates' judgment clear in their expressions. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out—he was caught between the truth, the shame, and the past he’d tried so hard to forget.

The tall man let out a long breath and sat down heavily at the table, facing the expectant and confused gazes of his team. He hesitated, struggling to find the right words, the truth weighed down by layers of regret and fear. But there was no hiding from this now, and he knew he had to explain.

“I... I didn’t really talk about this before, but during my PhD days, I had a bit of a... busy intimate life,” he started, his voice low and wavering. He avoided eye contact, staring at the table like he could find his words hidden in the wood grain. “I was young, and it was my first time experiencing freedom like that. There were a lot of... flings, one-time things. A lot of people came and went.”

The team remained silent, eyes fixed on him, soaking in every word. Hotch sat back with his arms crossed, his face unreadable, while JJ and Penelope exchanged a shocked glance. Elle leaned in, not wanting to miss a single detail.

“And then I met Y/N,” Spencer continued, a small, wistful smile ghosting over his lips at the memory. “We started out just... bumping into each other, especially in the library. Thursdays became our thing, and before I knew it, we were friends—real friends. And I... I fell for her, hard.”

Derek’s jaw tightened as Spencer spoke, clearly trying to hold his tongue. But he stayed silent, trying to remain calm and listen, though his knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the table.

“One night, before the summer break, we hung out and... well, things got intimate,” Spencer confessed, his voice trailing off as if he could still remember every detail of that night. “But then, afterward, I... panicked. I’d been left before by people who only wanted one thing, and I was so sure Y/N would do the same. So I left before she could leave me. I thought I was protecting myself.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the team processing everything they’d just heard. Penelope’s mouth hung open in disbelief, and JJ’s face was a mix of understanding and disappointment. Elle just stared, eyes wide as she tried to piece together this new side of Spencer she had never seen before.

Derek leaned back, trying to take deep breaths to stay objective, but it was clear he was struggling to reconcile this side of Spencer with the man he knew—and with your story, the pain you'd carried for so long.

Finally, the silence broke when Elle, still processing everything, blurted out, “I thought you were a virgin.”

The unexpected comment drew a stifled chuckle from Hotch, who quickly tried to cover it with a cough, shaking his head as he glanced away to regain his composure. Spencer shot a look of offense around the table, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

“That’s not the point,” Derek said sharply, steering the conversation back to its heart. His tone softened but stayed firm. “You broke her heart, kid.”

Spencer’s expression crumbled with shame, his eyes dropping to his hands fidgeting in his lap. “I... I didn’t know that,” he said quietly, sounding more vulnerable than any of them had ever heard him. “She was... she was here? Tonight?”

Penelope nodded solemnly, her usually bright demeanor clouded with concern. “Yeah, she was sitting right with us,” she said gently. “She ran out. Spencer, she ran right past you.”

Spencer’s face fell, the weight of what he’d done settling heavily on his shoulders as he replayed the moment in his mind—the stranger rushing past, too fast for him to recognize, too wrapped in his own world to realize the depth of pain he had caused.

—

Flashback

After you fell asleep with your head resting on Spencer’s chest, he stayed awake, propped up on one arm, his other hand idly tracing shapes on your back. The rise and fall of your gentle breaths sent soft puffs of warmth against his skin, and the sound of your slow, even breathing filled the quiet room. Spencer watched you with a tender smile on his face, his heart swelling with every peaceful sigh you let out.

For that moment, everything was perfect—the warmth of your body against his, the soft glow of the moonlight through the window, and the quiet intimacy of sharing a bed after everything that had happened between you. He couldn't help but let his thoughts wander, to imagine waking up like this every morning, to imagine the rest of his life with you beside him, sharing sleepy smiles and whispered secrets in the quiet of dawn.

And that's when the panic hit.

The thought of getting so close to you, of letting his heart fall so fully and completely for you, terrified him. He had spent so long protecting himself, closing off his emotions to keep from being hurt, that the idea of letting you in was too overwhelming. He was sure that, like everyone else, you’d leave, and he didn't think he could handle the pain if it came from you. He felt the fear grip him tight, his pulse quickening as he realized what it meant—that he had to go, now, before he fell any deeper.

As much as it broke his heart, Spencer carefully slipped out from under you, moving inch by inch to keep from waking you. But when he finally pulled away, your face scrunched up in your sleep, and your arm reached out instinctively, searching for the place he had just been. The sight nearly broke him, and for a moment, he almost crawled back into bed, almost let himself stay.

But the fear was stronger. He left, quietly slipping out into the dark, knowing he would never see you again, knowing that the one chance at something real was lost the second he closed that door behind him.

—

As soon as you got home, you collapsed onto your bed, the soft sheets barely registering beneath you as you clung to a pillow, burying your face in it. The tears came fast, heavy sobs shaking your body as the weight of everything you’d been holding in finally poured out. Memories of Spencer rushed back in a flood—the way he’d held you, the tender words he’d whispered in the quiet of the night, and the intimacy you had shared.

You knew, even before it happened, that sleeping with him was a mistake. You’d told yourself as much a thousand times. But the moment he left you, without so much as a word afterward, it felt like that final blow to your heart—confirming everything you feared. The pain of being abandoned, of realizing that maybe you had meant nothing to him after all, tore at you with a fierceness that left you breathless. You hugged the pillow tighter, the softness no comfort to the ache inside.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, every emotion too overwhelming to bear. The embarrassment of bolting from the bar in front of Spencer’s team, the fear of realizing he was now part of your immediate circle, and the deep grief over what could have been. It was too much. The tears had left your eyes swollen and your throat raw, your body exhausted from the turmoil swirling inside you.

When you woke the next morning, groggy and disoriented, the sound of your phone buzzing pulled you from the comfort of sleep. Fumbling for it, you squinted at the screen before bringing it to your ear, your voice thick with sleep. “Hello?” you managed, slurred through the haze of morning grogginess.

“Hey, baby,” Derek’s familiar, warm voice sighed through the line. “I’m at your door with tea. Let me in?”

A disgruntled huff escaped you, not exactly ready to face the day, but you still dragged yourself out of bed. You padded over to the door and opened it, finding Derek standing there with two cups of tea and a look of understanding. Without saying a word, you took the cup he offered, wrapping your hands around the warmth and letting it soothe the ache in your chest as you sipped.

Wordlessly, the two of you made your way to your tiny balcony, the fresh morning air brushing softly against your skin. You both settled into the cozy, cushioned nook—Derek’s arm draped over your shoulder as you leaned into his warmth. The silence stretched between you, comfortable and unpressured. Derek didn’t push you to speak, letting you take your time, knowing you needed the quiet after everything.

For a long while, the soft hum of the city below and the gentle sway of plants on your balcony were the only sounds filling the space. It wasn’t until you’d both nearly finished your tea that Derek finally spoke.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with care, his gaze watching you carefully, ready to listen.

You sighed heavily, your fingers tightening around the warm ceramic of your mug. “I never thought I’d see him again,” you admitted, shaking your head as you tried to process the shock of it all. “What are the odds?”

Derek, ever the one to lighten the mood, snorted softly. “I bet Spencer would know the answer to that,” he quipped, a small grin tugging at his lips.

You turned to glare at him, shooting him a look that clearly said not funny. Derek raised his hands in surrender, his grin faltering. “Sorry. Too soon?”

You nodded, sighing as you leaned back into the cushions. “It’s always too soon with... him,” you said, your voice weighed down by all the unspoken emotions you hadn’t yet unpacked.

Derek shifted beside you, the teasing gone from his expression now as he grew serious again. “He told us what happened, you know?” he said quietly, as if trying not to make it worse but knowing you had to hear it.

Your chest tightened at the thought, embarrassment rising again. “Great,” you muttered, your voice tinged with bitterness. “That’s even more humiliating. The entire team knows now?”

“Yeah,” Derek admitted softly, nodding as he looked at you with sympathy. “But they also know it was him who messed up, not you.”

You stared down into your cup, feeling the sting of tears welling up again, threatening to spill over. The warmth of Derek beside you was a comfort, but it wasn’t enough to lift the heavy burden pressing on your chest. His words, meant to soothe, only left you feeling more confused, more vulnerable.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly, barely above a whisper, your voice shaky with emotion. You didn’t dare look up, afraid that making eye contact would break the fragile barrier keeping the tears at bay.

Derek took a deep breath, shifting slightly as if choosing his words carefully. “At the bar, after you ran out... Spencer sat down with the team, and we... we didn’t know what was going on at first. So we asked.”

You finally looked up at him, your brows furrowing slightly, a mix of anticipation and dread building in your stomach.

“He told us about his time during his PhD,” Derek continued gently, his voice calm, as if he was trying to soften the blow. “Said he... he slept around a lot back then, had a lot of one-night things, you know? And then he met you. Told us how you two became friends, how it wasn’t like the other times.”

Your heart clenched at his words. Hearing it from Derek made it real in a way that felt almost unbearable. You squeezed your mug tighter, the warmth doing nothing to soothe the ache in your chest.

“He said after you two slept together,” Derek went on, “he panicked. Thought you’d leave him, like everyone else had. So he left first.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your tears from spilling, but it was no use. You could feel the sharp sting in your throat, the familiar ache of heartache you thought you’d buried long ago. “He left because he thought I’d leave?” you asked, your voice thick with disbelief and hurt.

Derek nodded, his eyes full of sympathy. “Yeah... He thought he was protecting himself. But, obviously, he regrets it now.”

You didn’t know how to respond. The conflicting emotions—anger, sadness, confusion—swirled inside you, leaving you breathless. Spencer had left because he was afraid of losing you, and in doing so, he broke you. And now, all these years later, you were supposed to find comfort in knowing he regretted it?

“So that’s why he never... reached out?” you whispered, more to yourself than to Derek.

“Yeah,” Derek said softly. “He was scared. Scared that you’d see him like all the others did—someone to use and then leave.”

“Basically, he’s a coward and a moron?” you asked, your voice flat but sharp with anger, needing to hear it said out loud to fully grasp the ridiculousness of it all.

Derek chuckled softly, a wry smile pulling at his lips. “Yup. That sums it up,” he said, rubbing your arm in slow, soothing circles. His voice remained calm, but he could sense the storm brewing inside you. “Do you think you’ll want to see him again?”

“Fuck no,” you snapped without hesitation, the words coming out harsher than you expected, but you didn’t care. “He ruined any chance he had with me. He broke my heart, and all because he was scared?” The bitterness in your voice rose as the anger bubbled to the surface, mixing with the lingering pain. “I hate him.”

Derek’s smile faded into something softer, more sympathetic as he listened to you vent. He could feel the intensity of your emotions, the raw hurt that still lingered beneath the surface. But he didn’t push you further, just stayed close, offering his quiet support.

“I get it,” he said softly. “You’re allowed to be mad, to feel all of it.”

You nodded, though the tears were already blurring your vision again. The anger felt good, cathartic in a way, but it didn’t take away the hurt. Spencer had shattered something inside you, and no explanation, no regret from him could change that.

Derek stayed with you for the rest of the day, determined to lift your spirits and bring some lightness back into the heavy atmosphere that had settled over you. After the emotional morning, he suggested a change of pace—a "no more thinking about him" kind of day.

The two of you moved back inside, and after raiding your fridge, you ended up sprawled out on the couch with a pile of snacks between you. Derek flipped through channels until he landed on an old action movie, something so absurd and over-the-top it was impossible not to laugh at the cheesy explosions and dramatic one-liners.

As the movie played in the background, you both sat there, munching on chips and teasing each other. “If I ever get into a high-speed chase, I’ll make sure to drive into an alley with just enough space for me to barely escape, but the bad guys can’t,” Derek quipped, waving a chip in the air like it was his master plan.

“Obviously,” you laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “Because clearly, that’s what makes you invincible.”

“Oh, I’m invincible, baby,” Derek grinned, flexing his arm dramatically. “I don’t need an alley to escape the bad guys.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing at his theatrics. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see how ‘invincible’ you are next time you try to carry all the grocery bags at once and drop the eggs.”

Derek clutched his chest in mock horror. “Low blow, Y/N. You know I was saving us from multiple trips.”

“Sure, sure,” you teased, tossing a chip at him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Invincible.”

He caught the chip mid-air and popped it into his mouth, smirking as he chewed. “Not everyone can be as perfect as you, baby.”

The day passed in a blur of easy conversation, laughter, and moments of comfortable silence. Derek didn’t push you to talk about anything heavy, and the weight that had sat on your chest all morning began to lift, replaced with the warmth of knowing you had a friend who could make you forget the world for a little while.

By the end of the day, you were curled up under a blanket, feeling lighter than you had in days.

—

“Derek!” Spencer called out, jogging to catch up just as Derek was waiting for the elevator. His breath was a little ragged, his urgency clear. He needed to talk, needed to know.

Derek turned, his eyes scanning Spencer’s face, reading the familiar mix of emotions. He had softened toward Spencer since the initial blow-up, knowing that his friend was hurting too. Spencer had made a mess of things, but he was still one of Derek’s closest friends, and Derek couldn’t ignore his struggle.

“Sup, Reid?” Derek greeted casually, though there was a layer of understanding beneath the light tone.

“Hi, um,” Spencer panted, catching his breath from the jog. “Did you see Y/N again this weekend?”

Derek nodded, his expression softening even further. “Yeah, I did.”

Spencer’s eyes flickered with hope and uncertainty, hesitating before speaking again. He clearly wanted to ask more, but the words seemed caught in his throat. Derek saw the struggle and decided to give him an out.

"Come on, man. Let’s grab a drink," Derek offered, nodding toward the door as the elevator opened. He knew this conversation was going to be heavier than a quick exchange by the elevators.

A little while later, the two of them were sitting side by side at the bar. Their beers sat untouched, the weight of their conversation lingering between them. Spencer had been unusually quiet all night, his usual rambling replaced by a tension that had been hanging over him since he saw you again.

“So,” Spencer began cautiously, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass as if the movement could steady his thoughts. “Uh... how’s Y/N been?”

Derek exhaled, setting his beer down with a quiet thud. He hated being caught in the middle of this, but Spencer’s eyes were so full of uncertainty, so full of regret, that Derek couldn’t ignore the question. He had to be honest. “She’s... doing alright,” Derek said carefully, trying not to reveal too much. “Keeping busy. Working on some new projects.”

Spencer’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, and he nodded slowly. “That’s good,” he muttered, though the slight tremble in his voice betrayed just how much hearing about you affected him.

“What, uh, what does she do for work?” Spencer asked, his fingers nervously twisting the beer bottle in his hand, his gaze avoiding Derek's for a moment.

Derek sighed, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading but humoring Spencer for now. “She’s an interior designer.”

“Oh, cool,” Spencer muttered, nodding absently, still twirling his beer. There was a beat of silence before he asked, “How did you two meet?”

Derek smiled at the memory, a small chuckle escaping him. “We ran into each other, literally, at a hardware store. I was standing there, staring at paint, and she bumped into me. She ended up helping me pick out a paint color for my walls, and, well, the rest is history.”

“That’s nice,” Spencer said, his voice quieter now, as if he was picturing the scene in his mind. “She, uh, she likes it? The job, I mean?”

“She loves it,” Derek replied with a soft smile, thinking about how passionate you were whenever you talked about your latest project. It was clear how much joy your work brought you, and Derek admired that.

The conversation hovered for a moment, Spencer swirling the beer in his hand, staring into the golden liquid as if it might hold the answers he was looking for. He didn’t dare ask the question that was lingering on the tip of his tongue—Does she ever talk about me?—but Derek could feel it hanging in the air between them, thick with unspoken regret.

Derek leaned back, exhaling softly. He knew Spencer was desperate for some sign, some hope, but he also knew you hadn’t mentioned Spencer much since the first time you told Derek about him, and this most recent run-in.

But Derek couldn’t lie, and he wasn’t about to give Spencer any false hope. “She doesn’t want to see you, Spencer,” Derek said gently, watching the way Spencer’s expression crumbled, the tiny shred of hope slipping through his fingers. “She’s... still hurt.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the table. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper, full of regret and guilt. “I know.”

—

The Humane Society was always a favorite outing for you two, mostly because Derek loved the idea of being surrounded by dogs, and you were more than happy to tag along to play with the animals.

You knelt down by one of the cages, your fingers scratching behind the ears of a little brown puppy with floppy ears and bright eyes. “You are too cute,” you cooed, watching as the puppy wagged its tail excitedly. “How is it that I've managed to leave here every time without adopting?”

Derek was busy with a scrappy terrier, laughing as the dog tugged at his shoelaces. “Because I’m here to remind you that you have plants you’ve barely managed to keep alive.”

“Low blow,” you snickered, standing up to join him. “But I could definitely handle one of these guys. Look at their little faces!”

Derek raised an eyebrow, his smile teasing. “Yeah, you say that now, but when you’re knee-deep in chewed shoes and puppy accidents, you’ll be texting me to dog-sit.”

You grinned, nudging his arm as the two of you continued walking down the row of cages. “I think we both know you’d love it.”

“Okay, maybe,” Derek admitted, glancing down at one of the puppies that had followed you to the edge of its cage. “But only because I’d get to play with them all day.”

“Exactly.” You shot him a grin. The day was filled with laughter and excitement, the two of you in your element—just two friends enjoying the company of animals and each other.

—

Derek was in the bullpen when he felt Spencer approach, that familiar presence hovering like a shadow. He looked up from his paperwork, knowing exactly what was coming.

“Hey,” Spencer said, his voice quieter than usual. “Can I ask... has Y/N said anything?”

Derek leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Reid, man, I’ve told you—she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I just... I don’t understand how I could’ve hurt her this much. I didn’t think...” He trailed off, unsure of how to explain his regret without making excuses.

Derek rubbed a hand over his face, torn between wanting to protect you and wanting Spencer to see the bigger picture. “Look, I get that you didn’t mean to hurt her. But man, you’ve got to understand—she trusted you. And when you left, it wasn’t just about what happened back then. It’s about the fact that you walked away without a word.”

Spencer blinked, absorbing the weight of Derek’s words. “I didn’t know it would be this bad,” he whispered.

Derek shook his head slightly, his voice firm but not unkind. “That’s the problem, Spencer. You never thought about what it’d do to her. She wasn’t just mad. She was heartbroken.”

—

The sun was warm, and the café’s outdoor seating was just breezy enough to make the day feel perfect. You and Derek sat across from each other, laughing over your latest failed online shopping attempts.

“I swear, I ordered a rug, and it looked like it belonged in a dollhouse when it arrived,” you groaned, rolling your eyes dramatically. Derek threw his head back with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Y/N, at this point, you should just let me handle your shopping. Your luck is terrible,” he teased, sipping his iced coffee.

“Don’t even try, Morgan. I can’t be trusted to order anything online, but I’m a wizard in an actual store.” You wagged a finger at him before diving into your sandwich. “Besides, you love dragging me around for advice.”

“Yeah, okay,” Derek grinned, “but we’re heading to the home goods store after this. No more rugs, though. Promise me.”

You smirked. “No promises. Let’s see where the wind takes us.”

The rest of the day was filled with easy banter as you roamed the aisles of a nearby store, pointing out throw pillows and quirky decor that caught your eye. Derek kept up the playful commentary, pretending to be appalled at your taste, but you could tell he was having just as much fun as you were.

At one point, he held up a neon-green lamp, his face mock-serious. “This. This is the statement piece your living room has been missing.”

“Oh my god, put that down before it blinds me,” you laughed, shoving him playfully as you moved on to the next aisle.

—

Penelope, Hotch, and JJ were deep in conversation when Derek noticed Spencer hovering nearby, clearly wanting to ask something but too nervous to interrupt. Derek already knew what was coming. It had become a pattern—every few days, Spencer would subtly try to ask about you without making it obvious.

As soon as the group dispersed, Spencer sidled up to Derek, eyes darting nervously around the bullpen. “Did Y/N say anything about... that thing you guys did last weekend?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “We grabbed lunch and went shopping. You want details about the food she ordered, or are you gonna admit what you’re really asking?”

Spencer’s face flushed, his hands twitching at his sides. “I... I just want to know if she’s okay.”

Derek sighed, his expression softening. “She’s okay, Spencer. It was a long time ago. But listen... you need to understand that just because she’s functioning now doesn’t mean she’s not still hurting.” He lowered his voice, giving Spencer a hard look. “If you really want to fix this, you’ve got to stop waiting for her to just be fine and start thinking about what you need to do to make things right.”

Spencer bit his lip, nodding. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but Derek shook his head. “She’s not ready, man. Don’t push.”

—

As you sat in the car, driving back from the movies with Derek, you stared out the window, feeling peaceful. That is, until he finally broke the silence.

“So,” he said, his tone more serious than usual. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

You blinked, turning to him with a slight frown. “Talk about what?”

Derek glanced over at you, his brow furrowed slightly. “Spencer.”

The mention of his name hit you hard, but you quickly forced a smile, brushing it off. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Come on, Y/N. You’ve been great at pretending you’re fine, but I know you better than that. You’re good, but you’re not that good. I am a profiler, sweetheart.”

You sighed, leaning back in your seat. “I’m fine, Derek. I’ve moved on. I’m happy now.”

Derek didn’t respond right away. He pulled into a parking lot and turned off the engine, giving you a pointed look. “I know you’re happy, and I’m glad. But pretending those feelings don’t exist doesn’t make them go away.”

You bit your lip, staring down at your hands. “What do you want me to say? That it still hurts? That I’m angry? Because I am. I’m all of those things. But it doesn’t change anything. Spencer’s in the past, and I’m not letting him mess up what I’ve got now.”

Derek’s expression softened, his voice gentle as he leaned back. “I’m not saying you have to do anything. I just don’t want you to keep bottling it up.”

You exhaled slowly, the tension slipping out of your body as you met Derek’s gaze. “I’m fine. Really. But... thanks for asking.”

Derek smiled, nodding as he started the car again. “Alright. Just know I’m here, okay?”

You smiled back, feeling grateful for the reminder. “I know.”

“Would you be willing to talk to him? He’s pretty beaten up about the whole thing,” Derek asked cautiously, his eyes flicking over to you with that careful, almost too-soft look. It was the look he reserved for moments when he didn’t want to push you but knew he had to ask anyway.

Your stomach tightened at the mention of Spencer, the name still carrying more weight than you wanted to admit. You kept your gaze out the window, watching the buildings blur by, pretending the question didn’t send a ripple of unease through your chest.

“Derek…” you started, your voice trailing off, unsure of how to respond. The thought of seeing Spencer again, of opening that old wound, felt like more than you could handle.

“I know,” Derek cut in gently, sensing your hesitation. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was worth it. But I’ve talked to him, Y/N. He’s... not the same guy he was. He messed up, and he knows that.”

You shook your head slightly, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of your seatbelt. “I don’t know if I can, Derek. He left. Without a word. I don’t know what there is to talk about anymore.”

“I get that,” Derek said softly, his voice low and careful. “But maybe there’s some closure in it for you. And for him. You don’t have to forgive him, but maybe hearing him out would help. For both of you.”

You sighed, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Closure. Did you need it? Or was keeping Spencer in the past the only way to really move on?

“I don’t know,” you murmured finally, your voice thick with uncertainty.

Derek didn’t push any further, his silence a testament to how well he understood you. “It’s your call, babe,” he said after a long pause. “But just think about it. No pressure.”

You nodded slowly, your heart conflicted as you continued staring out the window, the unease still swirling inside you.

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sea-lanterns · 4 months ago

Text

A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET

synopsis: (slasher! AU) the killer that haunts your dreams is real.

featuring: rosaria

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dom character, character is a serial killer, mentions of blood, mentions of gore but nothing like that happens, rosaria has knives, dark humor, reader is a virg.in, slight degradation, knife play, predator and prey ki.nk, cunnilin.gus (reader recieving), biting, reader gets nicked accidentally, may be ooc.

art credits: tomie

Perhaps it was the paranoia that was gnawing at your chest, but you felt as if someone was watching you from the dark corners of your room ever since you got into bed. For the past few nights or so, your dreams have been haunted by the same, shadowy woman that would chase you down in various parts of your town, waking you up just before she could get close enough to get her hands on you. Every night you would wake up drenched in a cold sweat, heart pounding with adrenaline as everything these dreams did made you feel as if you were living it in reality. You hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in a while, the bags under your eyes prominent and worrying everyone you knew around you.

Get therapy perhaps? No, no matter what everyone suggested, you knew this was more than simple nightmares and hallucinations. The woman felt real, she is real. The way she would hunt you down with a looming prescience, her tired smile haunting your visions while she dragged her blade-like gloves across the wall, emitting a painful screeching noise that would play on repeat whenever you started feeling anxious. This wasn’t good, you needed this to stop and you needed it to stop now.

“I’m going insane…” you mumbled to yourself, laughing deliriously from the lack of sleep and staring at the ceiling of your room. Oh goodness, you were tired. You needed sleep but you knew that if you fell into dreamland, that woman would appear again and try to kill you. Every touch, every breath, she drew closer in your sleep, taunting you to close your eyes and let her ravish you in your dreams.

“I can’t…” your eyes felt heavy, her smile a taunting reminder for you to close your eyes. “I…”

Close your eyes…

It felt as if she were whispering it into your ear, your consciousness on the edge of falling towards her. You wondered if you could do something about this, something that could stop her from tormenting you with her prescience. But alas, you found yourself feeling heavy, the ghostly hands caressing your cheek and drawing you in like an invisible invitation.

You can’t…

Close your eyes…

The curse you let out was violent. Angry. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for falling asleep so easily, trying to will yourself to wake up before the woman appeared again. As you looked up at your surroundings, you found yourself on the campus of your university, yet there was no one else around and it was pitch black dark outside.

You began walking along the path of your campus, feeling uncomfortable with being out in the open like this. You figured you should probably hide, but honestly it wasn’t like hiding was your best chance of survival. No matter where you ran or hid in your dreams, that damned shadowy woman would always find you.

A memory of her appearance flashed before your eyes, her tall, looming figure casting her presence in your mind. Rosaria… you remembered her name. How she would purr it in your ear moments before she was about to strike. Rosaria… you wouldn’t dare forget it, her wicked smile stretching ear to ear like a cat toying with a mouse.

You jolted when you thought you heard the screeching noise of metal against metal. Her claws. Oh how could you forget about her claws? They were the thing that frightened you the most about her. The way they would eerily scratch against the wall to warn you of her presence…

Speaking of her claws, you should probably move faster. It was getting to the point in your dreams where she would make her presence known.

You hurried off the sidewalk and into one of the buildings of your university, hoping you could survive until your brain eventually woke up. Your university looked and sounded eerie without anyone else inside the building, your footsteps echoing on the tiled floor as you kept a lookout for your killer.

Everything felt straight out of a horror film, each moment of silence building up the suspense. You were surprised you didn’t wake up automatically due to your unusually high heart rate (or die of a heart attack). As you continued walking, you felt as if your footsteps were echoing a little louder than usual…

You stopped. Took one step forward, and the step ricocheted twice as loud through the walls. Another step. Another. You stopped again and felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You didn’t think she would find you so soon.

Without turning around to see if she was actually there, you bolted. The footsteps behind you breaking into a sprint as well as panic began to settle into your nerves. How does she always find you so fast? You let out a cry and tried upping the pace, not bothering to look back. “Leave me alone!” You cried out desperately, tired of these endless nightmares where you felt like you were in a constant death cycle.

Rosaria didn’t say anything, but you knew she could hear you. Your mind whirling with ways of how to escape from her and mapping out possible hiding spots. The boiler room… you figured you could hide in there, almost no one ever knows how to get down there except for you and the custodians.

You took a sharp corner and ran to the door that had a Do Not Enter sign. So, like the rebellious woman that you were, you entered anyway.

It was darker than usual in the basement. The cinder block walls were covered in a thick mildew that made you cover your nose with your sleeve. You forgot how musty it was in here, but nevertheless you found yourself a nice hidden corner to tuck yourself in and hide. You didn’t know when your body would finally wake up, when this nightmare would finally end. All you could do was sit there and wait, hoping morning came before that woman could find you…

You recalled the first time you encountered her in your dreams. She had some pretty nasty scarring on her face that came from what looked like a burn, however underneath all that rough exterior, you could make out a beautiful face underneath.

Damn. For a woman as insane as she was, she was still attractive for your tastes. You rested your head on the metal of some pipe, scrunching up your nose at the thought. Of course you had a thing for scary women, but honestly now was not the time to crush on your killer…

You heard that high-pitched screeching noise of her metal claws dragging against the wall again, causing you to tense up. She was close. You held your breath and tried to make yourself appear as small as possible, shoving yourself deeper into the corner that you wedged yourself in. The handle of the basement door twisted open, its click reaching your ears and making you freeze in place.

How the hell did she find the hidden door?

The woman’s heavy, intimidating footsteps slowly roamed around the basement. A small hum leaving those cracked lips of hers as she got closer and closer. Well, you were trapped. With your back against the wall, you knew you had no place to run and squeezed your eyes shut.

Her footsteps suddenly stopped, but they sounded quite close to where you were hiding. This was it, this was how you would die. In your dreams, in your sleep, where no one will be able to figure out the real cause of your death in the real world.

Cold metal lightly traced the bottom of your chin, making you let out a whimper. A small, strained chuckle left the woman in front of you, her face stretching into a grin at the sight of you.

“Open your eyes, girl.” Her voice was raspy and grated, it was like she hadn’t spoken in a long time. Her grip tensed a bit more around your chin, making you yelp pathetically for fear of her claws nicking you. She chuckled at the yelp, gently brushing your cheek with a claw and silently ushering you to obey.

You did, slowly opening your eyes and focusing on the woman in front of you. Rosaria…

She was just how you remembered her. That same, sleazy smile plastered on her disfigured face, the burn marks and scars running over her skin but failing to hide her beauty. Your biggest fear was standing right in front of you, cupping your face in her hands (claws?) and having you knelt pathetically on the floor for her. You hated it. Hated how pathetic you looked, hated how she stared down at you like the victor of the hunt. She had you cornered so easily and you hated it.

“You look like you want to bite my nose off.” Rosaria chuckled, gently poking your nose with the tip of her finger. She would pinch it if she could, if not for the knives she had on her fingers. “Like a cornered rat…”

You glared at her, as that nickname was uncalled for. However, it seems that Rosaria didn’t see it as a bad thing, as she continued “petting” your face and making your nerves dance under her fingers.

“--and to think that I found you in the boiler room too. Don’t look so upset, rats are quite the intelligent creatures, and it took several dreams of chasing you to finally have you in my grasp.”

You gulped as her bladed fingers slowly traced over your cheek, over your lips, and then down your neck. Maybe you were just imagining it, but her eyes almost looked…intrigued. Watching the way a small lump of saliva went down your throat from how nervous you were, admiring the goosebumps on your skin as she traced a blade over the groove of your neck, almost like she was about to slit it.

“You are surprisingly calm for a woman who has several knives to her neck.” Rosaria comments, finally making eye contact with you again and smiling. “Or perhaps, you’re too scared to say anything to me?’

Well what can you say? Please let me live? Fuck you for ruining my sleep schedule? It didn’t matter anyways, your last words would be heard from a serial killer that only existed in your dreams. There really was no point in talking to her.

Your lips formed a thin line and you closed your eyes, admitting defeat and knowing when you had been bested. She won. She caught you and wore you down, your body too tired to even fight back after all these days.

Rosaria simply stared back at you for a while, her face blank as she watched you submit yourself.

“...Silly girl.” she chuckles, licking her scratched up lips and tilting your chin up to look at her. “Are you waiting for me to slit your throat? Gouge out those pretty eyes perhaps? Murder you?” She let out another dry laugh, watching the tears in your eyes make your pupils appear all the more glossy. Gods above you were cute. Quite pathetic, but very, very cute to the killer. “You’d be fun to murder, but much more fun to keep around.”

“...H-Huh?” the word came out quite dumbly, almost instinctively from how tired you were.

“Don’t get me wrong. I quite enjoy hunting pretty girls like you,” she ran a blade across your head, almost like a caress. “You scream, you cry, it’s adorable. But…I like you, little rat.”

She grinned again when you subtly pouted at her. She would have to keep calling you a rat more often. “You are very resistant, staying awake for as long as you can, drinking all those caffeinated energy drinks so you don’t fall asleep.”

“H-How did you–”

She cut you off before you could question her more, one of her blades moving dangerously quick to shut your lips. She was amused at how quickly you froze up, fear settling in as you were afraid she would cut your lips. “Hush now…” she murmurs, lowering her body a bit so that she is directly in front of you. “Don’t question things beyond your understanding, girl. Your cute brain will hurt too much.”

She laughed as she belittled you, treating you as if you were some child. You gritted your teeth and wanted to say something back, but the blade on your lips was still there. “Listen…I know how desperately you wish to wake up, to get away from me…”

She leaned in and purred into your ear, a shiver running down your back.

“So why don’t I help you?”

You nearly jolted at the implications, your face feeling hot from how much adrenaline was rushing through your veins. Rosaria smiled at your fear, before clarifying herself. “I won’t kill, or harm you in any way. To wake up from my dreams, your heart rate must exceed a certain amount, yes? Then your body will wake up on its own…”

Your breath hitched when you suddenly felt another set of blades trail down your stomach, her other hand making its way to your nether regions.

“I can accelerate your heart rate in another way.”

Before you could ask her what she meant, she suddenly moved closer to you, her lips dangerously close to yours. A gasp left your lips, having never been so close to your killer before. She was even more attractive up close, every scar and burn on her face simply adding to her horrifying beauty. You couldn’t look away from her.

“May I…?” she hummed.

“What?”

“Kiss you.”

She was blunt with her answer, tracing your stomach under your shirt with a blade. “I promise you’ll feel even better than…” she laughed a little, “Say, getting killed.”

Her humor was dark, but it was fitting for a woman like her. You wanted to say no at first, but the more you thought about it, the more you gazed upon her and her features, you felt a small part in the back of your mind say yes.

“Okay…” you responded meekly, a bit hesitant but curious. Rosaria’s smile widened, pulling you so close your lips nearly brushed against her on the spot. “You’ll enjoy it.”

She then pushed her lips against yours, the feeling bringing a burning feeling to your core. Her lips were dry and slightly cracked due to her scars, but even if it felt odd at first, you found yourself almost intrigued by the feeling. Her lips were warm. Somehow comforting in a way as she pushed you up against the wall and kissed you harder.

Oh…how soft your lips were. Rosaria had long forgotten what soft, unscarred lips felt like. She wanted to touch them, kiss them, lick them, she was absolutely enamored by how sweet and plush they were.

“Damn…you’re soft…” Rosaria murmured, her lips turning into a grin mid-kiss, before smushing them against you once more. “You might die of asphyxiation because of me instead…”

She chuckled at her dark jab of humor, before growling more hungrily into the kiss and wanting her tongue inside you. As you whimpered at how rough she was getting, you felt her hot tongue lick a stripe against your lips, seeking entry into your mouth. You obeyed, parting those lips she loved so much and allowing her to taste you from the inside.

Rosaria loved the submission. Her eyes fluttering shut in pleasure while she groaned at the feeling of your tongue meekly pushing back. She parted away and licked the messy drool from the corner of your mouth, smirking at the absolutely dazed expression you gave her as it was clear this was your first time. “Never had another woman’s tongue in you before?” Rosaria hummed, gently tapping the outside of your cheek. “It’s okay, that means it’ll be easier to get your heart pumping twice as fast…”

She dove right back in for another kiss when you weren’t paying attention, dragging her blades down to your shorts. They were the thin kind, just comfortable sleeping shorts you often wore to bed, which made Rosaria all the more happier. “So thin and raunchy…I can’t believe you sleep in these every night.” She smiled and used the tip of her blades to tear the fabric with ease, the sound ripping through your ears and causing goosebumps to form on your thighs. Rosaria pulled away from you, licking her lips as the tatters of what used to be your shorts hung from your knees.

The woman’s eyes narrowed upon your choice of underwear for the night. Simple, yet very cute cotton panties that barely covered your virgin cunt. She didn’t miss the way your arousal so shamelessly seeped through the fabric of the underwear, clearly turned on by what she was doing to you. “Ah…so wet, hm? Never realized you got all hot and bothered by serial killers?” She grinned at your embarrassment and pulled the elastic on the waistband with her finger.

It seemed she was gauging how far the elastic would stretch before it inevitably snapped under the sharpness of her blade, enjoying the thrill of seeing more and more of your privates.

“So pretty and hot.” Rosaria rasped, the growl in her throat prominent as she finally tore your panties to shreds. You let out a gasp and tensed at the sight of her finger blades so close to your cunt, dangerously close as something so sharp next to something so sensitive was making you scared.

Scared…? Or aroused? You honestly had no idea as that small pulse of heat in your core was difficult to gauge.

“Mmm…spread your legs for me, pretty girl,” Rosaria hummed, ushering for you to lay on your back and prop yourself up using your arms. You were in such a vulnerable position, legs spread and stomach exposed, looking like a little rodent that had been ensnared under the claws of the carnivore. “Have you ever been eaten out?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head no, having only seen that sort of thing in pornos and 18+ films. Rosaria smirked and suddenly got down on her knees in front of you, opening her scarred lips and extending her tongue out almost teasingly. “Well, you’re about to experience it now.”

She grabbed your hips, ensuring you wouldn’t squirm away –which was pointless because you had nowhere to squirm to– and caged you underneath her mouth. It really did feel like you were about to be eaten by a predator, the way she so hungrily drooled at the sight of you twitching so needily. After savoring the sight of you for a few more moments, Rosaria was finally ready, letting out an almost animalistic growl and licking up your inner thighs.

Just like the rest of her, her tongue was quite rough. Except it wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought, her rough tongue slowly inching its way to the delicate muscle of your clit, making you arch your back a little. “Mm…down.” Rosaria commanded firmly, making your back hit the floor again as she licked small ministrations getting closer to your heat. With each lick, each hot breath from her mouth, you felt your pussy throb with need, a choked gasp leaving your throat.

Rosaria smiled to herself at how desperate you looked, having successfully gotten you to submit and feel the pleasures she had to offer you. She took one last look at your pathetically lustful face, before focusing on her next target; your clit.

She leaned in and finally placed her tongue on your swollen clit, making you jolt and whine at the sensation. Rosaria had to hold you down again, groaning and getting impatient with you for being so jumpy. “Down.” She growled again, gently nipping at your clit as punishment for disobeying her orders.

You cried out, legs shaky from the stimulation that Rosaria was giving you. She went down again, slowly licking long stripes across your clit before wrapping her lips around it and sucking. Though the noises she was making were raunchy and embarrassing for you, you couldn’t deny the satisfaction she gave you whenever she paid attention to the areas you needed the most.

Your body heat only rose more as Rosaria traced her tongue more over your folds, sliding the tip in between them and making your heart rate spike. The more gasps and whines you let out, the more Rosaria slobbered over your cunt, getting hungrier and hungrier for your orgasm.

“Oh…shit.” Rosaria grumbled to herself, slotting her tongue deeper and getting drunk on the taste. “You taste really good…”

Her tongue continued to make wet slurping sounds, trying to draw you closer to your orgasm. You had never gotten wet or orgasmed before in your life, so to have your virginity taken by a nightmarish serial killer was almost pathetic when you put it into words–

Oh, but what the hell. She felt so good and you couldn’t bring it in yourself to be mad anymore. Your hands made their way to Rosaria’s hair and tangled into her wine-colored hair, tugging on them and bringing her closer to your cunt. She let out an almost breathless sigh at that, smushing more of her face into your thighs.

“Didn’t think you had it in you to do that to me.” She groaned, enjoying the way you grabbed onto her short hair. “You have guts I’ll give you that.”

She let you hold onto her like a lifeline, pushing her tongue further and watching you cry out in ecstasy. You didn’t think her mouth would feel so good, and Rosaria didn’t think your pussy would taste this good. Both of you were entangled in a world of pleasure with each other, your whines further spurring Rosaria on and making her want to see you orgasm for the first time. You felt your body getting close, your heart pumping wildly in your chest and making you feel as if you were about to burst.

“Coming so soon…?” Rosaria hummed, that same sleazy smile stretching on her lips. “Quite pathetic, but it’s adorable.”

You would normally have something snarky to quip back at her, but the only thing that left your lips was a half-strangled moan. She continued pushing you, edging you with her tongue as she brushed over your entrance with those scarred lips of hers. This, combined with the sensation of her thick tongue maneuvering deep inside you was enough to make you see white. Your walls tightened and your thighs instinctively clamped around Rosaria’s face, causing one of her claws to accidentally nick you in the process.

It didn’t hurt, if anything it felt more like a paper cut, but Rosaria was so stunned by your reaction that she didn’t expect you to suddenly orgasm on her tongue. A loud, needy whine escaping your throat and making her own pussy throb at how much you enjoyed her. As your hot cum spilled out onto Rosaria’s face for the very first time, your heart rate had accelerated at speeds that you didn’t even feel when being chased by Rosaria previously.

You felt your body go numb from the aftershocks of your very first orgasm, the dreamy world around you starting to fade.

“Good girl…” Rosaria said under her breath, kissing your clit for the last time, before you closed your eyes. “Next time wear some sexier panties the next time you go to sleep.”

You blacked out after that.

You jolted from your bed, covered in sweat and with your heart hammering in your chest. Your breathing was unsteady and you felt like you had gone on the wildest roller coaster in your life, the adrenaline still coursing through your bloodstream from the aftermath of what occurred in your dream.

The cracks of daylight began to seep in through your bedroom window, telling you that you had slept through the night and that it was now morning. The world of reality suddenly didn’t feel too real to you anymore, and you wondered if the dream was a genuine dream that you had, or if it really was the ghost of Rosaria haunting your nightmares again.

A dull ache made itself known to you between your legs, causing you to wince. As you moved the blankets off of you, you were shocked to see the absolute mess you had left on your sheets; a giant wet spot which formed at where your pussy was, and tatters of your shorts and underwear left scattered around your bed. However, what shocked you most of all, was the small line of red that you saw on the outer part of your thigh, a small trickle of blood that didn’t hurt, nor did you feel when you went back to reality.

If the mark was anything to go by, you knew that these dreams were definitely real, and that Rosaria was real too if this was the case. You gently traced the red mark with your finger, but didn’t make an effort to clean it up, too distracted with your own thoughts to think straight.

Slowly, you slide out of bed, but not before looking at the can of a half drunken energy drink sitting on your nightstand.

You looked at the drink, sloshed the liquid inside it to see how much was in it, before throwing it out in the bin.

#rosaria smut #rosaria x reader #slasher au #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin women smut #genshin women x reader #genshin rosaria smut #genshin rosaria x reader

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alisonsfics · 1 month ago

Text

knight in shining armor

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: you knew carmy would do anything for you in theory. when your abusive ex-boyfriend shows up at the bear, you learn carmy has zero hesitations when it comes to protecting you.

word count: 2k

warnings: mentions of abusive ex, violence (very minor and not graphic)

“God, I cannot wait to finally go home.” You groaned to Sydney as you cleaned down your station for the night. It had been an especially rough night at the Bear. “Tell me about it,” she responded, laughing to herself.

Carmy walked by the two of you, catching your attention. “I mean, nevermind, I love it here so much. Please, don’t fire me.” You teased sarcastically, glancing over at Carmy.

His lips curved upwards. He tried to hide the way that your sense of humor always brought a smile to his face. But he wasn’t as discreet as he thought he was.

“Don’t worry. This place couldn’t run without you.” Carmy joked. Sydney glanced between the both of you, noticing the pink tint on Carmy’s cheeks. She had to fight the urge to tell you both to get a room.

“Hey guys, Fak left early. Can one of you guys run this check out to table 13?” Richie called out. You quickly nodded and set down your towel. “Sure, Richie. I can do it.” You volunteered, taking it out of Richie’s hand.

You walked out to the one table with guests left: three men sitting in a corner booth. You heard them all deeply chuckling, fully focused on their conversation.

“Thank you for dining with us tonight. I just wanted to drop this off—” you started to say but froze when your eyes landed on one of the men.

It was your ex-boyfriend Anthony, well not just your ex-boyfriend, your abusive ex-boyfriend.

You felt a shiver run down your spine. His cold dark eyes stared back at you, leaving you with a sense of powerlessness.

The check fell out of your hands and clattered onto the table, hitting the silverware. Your only instinct was to run to safety.

Carmy was your safety. He was the only one you’d ever told about Anthony. He was the only thought in your head. You spun on your heel and headed back towards the kitchen.

You felt like the room was spinning around you. Your hands started shaking. You felt unsteady on your feet, like the ground could be ripped out from under you at any moment.

You stumbled into the kitchen, your anxiety clouding the noise in the room. You saw Carmy and Sydney having a conversation and laughing, but you couldn’t hear any of the words, only mumbles.

You ran to Carmy’s side. He turned to face you with a smile, about to explain whatever he and Sydney were talking about, but he noticed the panic in your eyes.

You breathlessly mumbled the word “Anthony,” hoping it was enough to jog his memory. Carmy furrowed his eyebrows at you, wondering if he’d misheard you.

It’d been years since you told Carmy about Anthony, so the name was far back in his memory.

The kitchen doors slammed open, smacking against the walls. Pots clattered onto the floor, falling off a shelf near the door. You jumped backwards, your heart starting to race.

Anthony stomped into the kitchen, and you could see the recognition in Carmy’s eyes.

Carmy grabbed your wrist and tugged you behind him. You cowered behind Carmy, not able to look at Anthony.

“Get the fuck out of here. I want you out of my fucking restaurant, you piece of shit.” Carmy yelled, snapping his fingers and pointing towards the door.

Sydney walked up next to Carmy, confused by all the chaos. “Yo, what the fuck is going on?” Sydney asked, looking at Carmy for an answer. Sydney’s gaze bounced between the rugged man standing in the doorway and Carmy’s death grip on your hand.

The pit in your stomach felt like it was going to swallow you whole. You kept your eyes focused on the floor, trying to convince yourself it was just a nightmare.

“Get this fuckhead out of here. Nobody lets him in ever again, you hear me? Where the fuck is Richie? Richie?!?” Carmy yelled, as the majority of the staff came walking into the kitchen from the locker room.

The silence of the room rang in your ears. Marcus jogged up next to you and Carmy. He’d immediately recognized the panic in your face and rushed to help.

Anthony lurched forward, attempting to grab your hand away from Carmy.

Carmy used his free hand to slap him away. “You don’t get to fucking touch her. You will leave her the fuck alone.” Carmy screamed. His face was bright red, his jaw clenched. Carmy was a fiercely loyal guy, but it was to an even higher degree when it was you.

It was only then that Anthony spoke. His words ran through your chest, making all your muscles feel tight. “You really have this little fucker whipped for you. Little manipulative bitch at it again.” Anthony yelled. His words seemed to hang in the air.

You got up the courage to look over Carmy’s shoulder, and you saw Anthony staring back at you.

Then, he turned his attention to Carmy. “Hey, short stuff, unless you’re her little boyfriend, I suggest you stay out of this conversation. It’s frankly none of your business.” He spoke, and Carmy’s grip on your wrist tightened.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go talk.” Anthony said, holding his hand out to you.

Carmy moved his hand to the small of your back and nudged you to stand behind Sydney. She wrapped her arm around your back, holding you close to her as Carmy stepped towards Anthony.

“Listen up, you bastard. She’s not going anywhere with you, and if I ever see you within a block of my restaurant again, I’ll kick your ass.” Carmy threatened.

You realized what he was doing. He was doing everything in his power to keep Anthony’s attention off of you.

It didn’t work. Anthony ignored Carmy and continued staring at you. “You got yourself a little boy toy here? He acts like your fucking protector and savior, and in return, what? You let him fuck you every now and then? Trust me, dickhead, the sex isn’t that good. You can find better. Nobody needs a little slut like her.” Anthony scoffed down at Carmy.

Anthony smirked, when he saw Carmy clench his jaw.

Before you could even process what Anthony said, Carmy punched him in the face, and Anthony fell back against the wall.

Richie finally emerged from the back door after Tina had gone to get him. “I wouldn’t recommend that.” Richie said, pulling the gun out of his waistband before Anthony could jump towards Carmy.

Richie wouldn’t use it, but Anthony didn’t know that.

“Get the fuck out of my restaurant.” Carmy snapped as Anthony ran towards the front door and his friends ran after him.

Carmy spun on his heel and pulled you into his arms. He cradled your body, comfortingly running his hands up and down your back. “It’s okay. It’s okay. He’s gone.” He whispered in your ear.

The room was silent as everyone processed what’d just happened.

“Richie, can you give us a ride back to my place? She can stay on my couch tonight.” Carmy asked softly.

Richie quickly nodded and grabbed his car keys as you both followed him to the car.

Carmy sat in the backseat with you, keeping your hand tightly in his. He was the best friend you’d ever had. He cared about you more than he could explain, which was partially due to his unconfessed feelings.

You didn’t utter a single word on the drive to Carmy’s apartment. Carmy quickly thanked Richie for the ride as he brought you upstairs. He was very aware of the glossy look in your eyes. He recognized and understood the trauma response better than anyone.

He held the front door open for you, keeping his hand protectively on the small of your back. “You want me to start the shower for you?” He asked you softly. You gave him a weak nod and followed him through his bedroom.

You waited silently as he set out a towel and everything you needed. “I’ll order some dinner while you take a shower, okay? Let me know if you need anything.” He said, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

You stayed in the shower extra long, letting the hot water run over you. You’d felt grimy since Anthony looked at you, so you hoped you could wash off the feeling.

You finally got out of the shower and dried yourself. You slipped your bra and underwear back on and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

You don’t know what about it set you off. Maybe it was the defeated look in your eyes staring back at you. You felt like you were in the past again. You’d spent so many hours staring in the mirror at bruises Anthony had left on you. All the memories you’d forced into a box were spilling out.

You sunk down to the floor, cradling your legs in your chest. The tears poured out of you, and your whole body shook.

Carmy glanced down at his phone, realizing it’d been a while since he heard the water turn off. He cautiously walked over to the bathroom and softly hit his knuckles against the wooden door. “You doing okay?” He mumbled through the door.

You tried to respond but no words would come out. Your muscles stayed rigid, no matter how much you wanted to stand and open the door.

Carmy opened the door a crack, making sure you were okay.

He saw you curled up on the floor with splotchy cheeks and watery eyes. He felt his heart break. He quickly rushed towards you and picked you up bridal style off the ground.

You normally would have been self-conscious of Carmy seeing you in your underwear, but you were so detached that you almost didn’t notice.

Carmy’s eyes didn’t linger anywhere that wasn’t your eyes. He set you down on the side of his bed, and then quickly grabbed some clothes out of his dresser.

He lifted your hands up in the air and slipped one of his sweatshirts over your head. He grabbed the matching pair of sweatpants and slid your feet through the leg holes.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, as he helped you stand, so he could pull the sweatpants up to your waist and tie the strings.

You stayed completely still, still clinging to him. He wrapped his arms protectively around your waist. “You hungry?” He whispered. You simply shook your head.

“C’mere,” he said, guiding to his bed where he pulled back the covers for you to climb in. He crawled in to sit next to you. He turned on the tv and put on one of your comfort shows.

You leaned over, resting your head on his shoulder. He smiled down at you, running his fingers through your hair.

He didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could say to fix this.

“Carmy?” You said, your voice coming out weak and fragile.

“Yeah, honey? What’s wrong?” He asked. He’d never called you a pet name before, but it just slipped out. “What if he comes back?” You croaked, your voice cracking.

He pressed a kiss against your temple. “He won’t come back, but if he did, I would keep you safe again. I promise, okay?” He assured you. He waited for you to respond and saw you fighting back tears.

“You risked your life for me. I don’t know how to thank you.” You mumbled, unable to meet his gaze.

He quickly shook his head, dismissing it. “You don’t need to thank me. I'd do anything for you.” He said.

Carmy was in disbelief that he’d actually been able to admit that after all these years. You paused and looked up at him, picking your head up off his shoulder.

You softly placed your hand on his face, cupping his cheek. His eyes glanced down at your lips.

You were worried he’d hear how fast your heart was beating as you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. He kissed you back gently, with a delicateness you’d never seen from him.

He rested his hand on your hip. You felt weightless when his lips were on yours.

You both pulled away slowly. You searched his eyes for any sign of regret. All you saw was the giant smile on his face. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

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