#despite the fact that it was very obviously not gone

[remiivu]

Ghostly Companion-- Chapter 2

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Thank you everyone for reading! This chapter features mostly soft, domestic fluff as I work out the plot! Next update in ~3 days. Enjoy!

[Ao3 link]

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“Hehehehe!” Is what you awoke to, followed by the heart-stopping blare of cars passing by way too close for comfort.

You jolt, held in place by Mr. Crawling’s firm arms. He laughs again, giving your face a poke. “Not ∎∎∎∎!” He coos rather loudly, and you sigh.

“Yeah, good morning, Mr. Crawling,” you say, despite the sun hardly being up. It’s actually still pretty dark, and as you survey your brand new area, you notice that you’re on a rather steep part of the mountains, adjacent to some dirt roads and the scarce road lights illuminating the area.

“∎∎∎ stops!” Mr. Crawling says, rocking the both of you gently in a soothing back-and-forth motion. Huh, for being dead and rather thin-looking, his lap was actually pretty comfortable. 

You eye the area, trying your best to repeat “∎∎∎?”

Mr. Crawling nods quickly with a smile. “∎∎∎!” He says, pointing at the road.

Oh, road?

But– wait, the road is very obviously continuing off towards somewhere, you muse quietly. Perhaps something more like… the path? If you look from his perspective, the monotonous dirt mounds, roots, and rockers were most definitely cut off by the road.

So, path will probably fit somewhat better.

You nodded, “Mhm, path stops. Go with me.” As you stand up, you groan a bit, stretching stiff limbs held tightly together for an extended period of time. Judging by the sky, he must’ve been dragging the two of you for a good amount of time.

You look right and left, and upon seeing no cars, you hurriedly cross the road, watching with relief as he does the same– in fact, he moves much quicker here, traversing the flat land with glee.

Upon crossing the road, you see the lights and tall buildings of your city, numerous of which you recognize based on the shape, ads, or colors. 

“Oh thank god,” you smiled, looking back once more to check on your ever loyal ghost. Though he most definitely didn’t understand your relief, he seemed to mirror your relaxed and happy demeanor, swaying ever so slightly as he waited patiently for you to continue.

You grinned, then began to carefully trek through the remaining hills and bushes, mostly following the road from a safe distance. After all, you weren’t quite sure whether or not other people could see your new companion, and you’d much rather get back to your tiny apartment without any extra screams or the need to act like Mr. Crawling wasn’t 2 feet behind you. 

Fortunately, Japan is much quieter at dawn than at midnight with most office workers having already gone home after a night of drinking or overtime. The few that remain were early risers much too tired to give their surroundings a second thought or still half drunk and passed out near the station or a random nook in an alley. 

Lucky, lucky, lucky you think to yourself as you made steady progress to your apartment building. Feeling slightly more rested and in a better mood, you allowed Mr. Crawling explore the new setting for a few minutes, laughing at his reaction to window displays or any vending machines you passed by.

You felt far more secure walking around an area you know compared to the mountains.

“∎∎∎∎!” Mr. Crawling says, stopping to inspect a small collection of Gachapon outside a large convenience store.

You let out a small snort, his amusement infectious. You can't remember the last time you were that excited over a capsule machine. Maybe it was elementary school? 

“Want one?” You ask, giving your bag a small shake to confirm that it still had coins in it.

Mr. Crawling brightened even more, “Me can?”

You fish out your coin pouch, digging around for some 100 yen coins. You pull out 2, handing them over to his hand and placing them in his palm.

You grab 2 more coins and demonstrate, picking out one depicting cute foods. You inserted the coins and twisted the lever, watching as a yellow ball rolled out. You picked it up, popping it open, and unfurling the wrap covering your brand new keychain, revealing a piece of cartoony buttered toast.

Mr. Crawling scooted closer, giggling out “cute cute cute!” as he poked and prodded at the small plastic thing.

Without a moment of hesitation, he inserts his coins into the same machine you had picked out, his hand turning the lever making a suspicious creak and clicking that, in your heart, signified something breaking. 

Ah, shit… you thought half-heartedly as he took his yellow capsule, popping it open and tearing off the plastic covering. He let out giggles, staring at his tiny new keychain.

A cute fried piece of mackerel with little x marks over its eyes.

You let out your own laugh, absentmindedly patting his head as he poked and moved his keychain. His head jerks up, grin radiant, as he says “Me like ∎∎∎! Thank you!” 

You felt your heart melt as you gave his head a rougher pat. “Of course. Me happy…uh– me happy you happy.”

Mr. Crawling gushed, lunging up to give you a tight hug that nearly brought you to the ground again. Your far more controlled yelp was cut off by your own laughs paired with his giggles as you combed your fingers through his hair. It wasn’t as neat as before, slightly ruffled up and tangled around small pieces of dirt, leaves, and rocks.

Yikes, he needed a bath. Do ghosts need baths? Well, regardless, you probably weren’t that far off, and the remains of dried blood would probably stop looking like the dried mud you knew other people assumed it was when the sun fully rises. 

And so, the moment was rather brief, interrupted by some cars passing by, but it was more warmth than you’ve ever really experienced since childhood, and you truly cherished it.

“Alright, c’mon,” You grinned, taking a half a step back to indicate you wanted to move. “We go.”

Mr. Crawling, as sweet as can be, followed after, keeping his new keychain as… safe as can be tucked between his razor sharp teeth, the little mackerel swaying against his chin and jaw.

You tried your best not to laugh at the sight.

The journey to your apartment afterwards was as tedious as you recalled, the same streets looking hardly any different despite the fact that you were basically kidnapped into a new world and nearly died quite a few times. And, while the rush of laughter was nice, you could feel the remaining exhaustion built up from the past 24 hours weighing heavier on your shoulders with every few steps, your hour-or-so long nap hardly the rest you actually needed.

But, you can’t deny, having Mr. Crawling by your side was the motivation you needed as you hiked up roads and through narrow roads as you began to walk away from the most busting parts of the city, entering a residential area that was fairly secluded from the main streets. 

Your building was more run down than most, cheap with some decent space for one person and some nice, elderly neighbors (that you really don’t want to traumatize). So, you opened the creaky entrance as quietly as you could, feeling confident that Mr. Crawling wouldn’t make much of a peep of noise until you reached your room.

You were 3 floors up, and you stopped yourself from letting out another huff of laughter at how at-home Mr. Crawling appeared to be on familiar concrete floors and stairs. That was too bad, honestly, as your house had wooden floors and some tatami mats, but a part of your mind, despite knowing how sturdy his limbs were, felt better that he wouldn’t be constantly kneeling and crawling on cold concrete floors like before.

And, really, it would be best for the both of you to leave that place as far behind as possible. In fact, you’d like to convince yourself that everything was a dream, and you simply found a ghost in the mountains like all the ghost stories had warned you about. No blood, no torture room, and no man in red.

All normal. Regular life. No deaths or blood or a creepy face peering at you from every dark crevice. 

You pull out your keys, giving your doorknob a soft rattle as it opens, and you breathe in a lungful of air you didn’t realize you could miss so much.

The air was slightly stale, but it was nothing an hour or so of airing out could fix. 

You walk in, kicking off ruined shoes by the doorway and hesitating for a moment when you see Mr. Crawling’s… attire.

It wasn’t bad. For crawling in a damp mountain, it was actually very clean, but you were still on the edge of letting dirt and grime inside.

But when Mr. Crawling tilts his head, mackerel clicking against his cheek, you felt yourself give in with a small sigh, and nod with a smile that you simply couldn’t help.

You walked in, waving him in, and once settled upon the hardwood floor, you shut the door tight, ensuring everything was locked.

“∎∎∎?” Mr. Crawling asked, mouth free of a charm. It was now back in his hands.

You hummed, giving him a blank look that you knew he knew meant you didn’t understand.

Mr. Crawling, hardly deterred, points at your home. “∎∎∎? You ∎∎∎?”

Hmm… You contemplate, looking at your room. Was he trying to say home?

“Home,” you say patiently in your language, watching as Mr. Crawling had a turn of looking confused. “...H..” He mumbles, and you nod.

“Home,” you pointed all around your home. “Home. Me home.”

Mr. Crawling followed where your finger was pointing rather comedically, head craning backwards and torso twisting around to see everything you were showing him. “You ∎∎∎. You… home?”

Your smile was instantly matched by his as you nodded quickly in affirmation. “Yes! Me home! Me language. Home.”

Mr. Crawling giggles, then crawls further into the house, exploring. You take the time to get settled, placing your bag on the hanger and plugging your nearly dead phone into the nearest outlet. Stretching your tensed, spent muscles, you finally took the time to look at yourself in the mirror and cringed at the sight.

Firstly, your hair was an utter mess, grime and browned blood crusting up in it, on your face, and on a good amount of the rest of your body. Your clothes were frankly ruined, and you’ll have to burn them or something. There’s no way you’ll be able to explain why that much blood from a presumably missing person is all over you.

You give a glance at Mr. Crawling who paused his cabinet-inspection to, in turn, look at you. 

… surely… you contemplate, not even registering the way he’s shuffling a bit under your gaze. Surely I can leave him alone for… 20 minutes? I need to shower at least… scratch the bath. I’ll probably fall asleep if I stay there. 

Mr. Crawling hurriedly began shoving stuff back in, the clacking and banging drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” You question, eloquently, as Mr. Crawling asks, holding a dustpan, “You mad?”

… Oh? “No, no.” You quickly reassure, crossing the room to bend down a bit and pet his head. “Me happy you happy. You… uh..” You pause, eyes scrunching shut as you begin digging in your mind for a word.

“You… can.” You eventually settle with, feeling assured that he understood when he smiled. You watched for another few seconds as he re-emptied the now-messy floor cabinet, digging out items that you’ve frankly forgotten about, before turning away with a small laugh and walking off to the bathroom.

You pulled out a spare set of clothes, dumping your current ones into a pile, and watched as grime and crust poured into the drain.

________________________________

When you step out, feeling refreshed and relaxed, you spotted a mini pile of mess surrounding your brand new roommate who seemed eager, mackerel keychain in mouth, to explore.

You hummed, observing his dirty appearance, before making a decision.

After all, you can’t have someone that dirty resting on a clean, white futon– or even the tatami mats he thankfully hasn’t walked over yet. He needed a bath earnestly. 

“Mr. Crawling,” You say, watching him turn in excitement.

“Hello!” He greeted, crawling towards you.

A brief half-second thought ensures that you truly had no word associated with water, wash, or anything along those lines, so you simply pointed into the bathroom, motioning towards yourself and your clean body.

“Uhm, wash. Bath,” You said, heading inside the still steamy room as you rinsed the tub and began filling it with water.

Mr. Crawling inspected it, peering at the warm water. “You,” you said, pointing inside the filling bathtub, followed by the motion of you washing your hair.

He tilts his head, jaw gently chewing at the keychain in his mouth. Then, when he sunk his arm in, you nodded fervently. “Yes yes,” You encouraged, motioning for him to get in.

When he sinks in, clothes bubbling to the surface, you contemplate asking him to take it off, but…

Yeahh, maybe not. You weren’t ready to see… whatever male ghosts had down there.

You pushed the fabric into the water, letting it soak up water until it sunk on its own and grimaced at the small wave of dirt that rose to the surface.

Yikes.

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Giggles erupted from the bathroom followed by small shouts of laughter periodically for the next 30 minutes as Mr. Crawling enjoyed the bath, splashing water out the tub and nearly melting when you firmly scrubbed his scalp and feet-long locks of hair.

You had drained and refilled the tub about 3 times now, the water finally a consistent clear color, that allowed you to wash and rinse the poor guy with some peace of mind.

“Good good! Happy!” Mr. Crawling cheered as he pushed his head up against your palms and fingers pressed against his head. “Thank you! Thank you!”

You laughed yourself, rinsing out the shampoo by scooping up buckets of water and pouring it over his head. “You really needed this,” you mused, gently layering a thin amount of conditioner onto his hair and letting it sit out on the side of the tub.

You can already see your bank account taking a foreseeable hit once your hair products run out.

Mr. Crawling giggled, taking out his now-warm arms to pet your (thankfully still wet) hair as you briefly scrubbed his legs and arms and attempted to wash his torso through his clothes. They seemed to be thin enough, after all, and it doubles as washing the fabric.

You snorted as hair fell into your face, large damp fingers clumsily pushing them away before you could really react. “You safe!” Mr. Crawling chirped, using his warm hands to cup your face and keep anything else from falling onto your eyes.

You felt your heart skip a beat as your cheeks began to warm themselves up, a soft smile firmly planted on your face. “And you’re very sweet,” you hum good naturedly, finishing up with a last rinse, drain of the tub, and wash down with the nearby showerhead.

You squeezed out as much water as you possibly could from your brand new sentient, crawling mop before helping him out of the tub and onto a towel. You gave him a small warning, motioning him to cover his ears as you plugged in the hairdryer, doing your best to dry him off.

He giggled, pulling his hands off his ears after a few moments and observing the hairdryer, reaching out to touch it a few times. “Cool! Noise ∎∎∎.” He said, watching his hair fly all around the room.

By the end, your arms were sore and your eyelids were heavy with the need to sleep, but he was dry and clean– very, very clean, skin no longer various shades of gray and clothes a step lighter than they used to be.

Before you could stand up and begin your voyage to your bed, he gently tugged you down, pulling you to sit on the towel.

“Huh?” You ask, watching as he fiddled with your hairdryer. He giggled when it roared to life, pointing the heated air at your head and clothes.

Oh… You relaxed, smiling as he tried his best to dry off whatever remaining moisture was in it. It was only slightly damp anyways, the air having done its job, but the tenderness of his fingers trying to run through your scalp and the warmth of not only the hairdryer but also the comfort of returning to some sort of semblance of a normal, soft, and loving life was enough to give rise to brand emotions that surged up from your chest and into your eyes. 

You did your best to choke out anything threatening to escape your throat, but there was no hiding the tears burning in your eyes or the way your body tensed up against the knees pressed against your back. 

Suddenly, the hairdryer shuts off, and a head smelling like your favorite shampoo pops in your vision, followed by “You sad? Hurt? Sad, you sad, me ∎∎∎.”

You sniffled, giving yourself that at least, and shook your head, quickly wiping off any tears. “No. No, me happy. You… nice. You nice… much. Me happy. Thank you.” 

Still, Mr. Crawling looked concerned, giving your body a quick check over and closely inspecting your head to ensure he really didn’t hurt you. When he finds nothing, he leans back, crawling to your side.

“You rest?” He says, and you give a jerky nod.

“Yeah, me… rest. Need rest.” You mutter, standing up and kicking the towels off to the side as well. You could clean that up later.

You lead Mr. Crawling out the room and into the small alcove covered in a tatami mat, opening a cabinet and pulling out 2 futons, unrolling them onto the floor. You then grabbed your pillows, blanket, and hurried to make yourself as comfortable as possible, handing him his set so that he could do the same.

But, instead of setting up his bed like you, he just sat right beside you intently, merely laying down the futon and pressing his pillow against your side.

“What are you doing?” You mumble, voice slightly nasally and eyes a bit puffy. You simply laid down, too tired and half-embarrassed to remain sitting up, but let out a small noise as his body laid on top of yours.

“What are you–”

“You rest,” Mr. Crawling says with a smile, face pressed against your abdomen and his blanket resting against his legs. “You rest. Me ∎∎∎∎ you safe.”

And, honestly, you don’t bother with trying to refute anything anymore. You sighed, letting your overworked muscles relax and gently resting your hand on his head. You were home, you were safe, and you… you weren’t alone. You had someone there with you now. Someone who protected you and could keep you safe in your sleep.

You blink open your eyes briefly when you felt something cold and foreign press into the other hand resting at your side, but upon seeing the small mackerel and toast keychains resting in your palm, you let out a small snort and let your eyes fall shut once again, mumbling a small “goodnight..” as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep almost immediately.

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.

.

.

“...g…goood…niight…”

That's all! Gave you guys a bit of a longer chapter (~3.2k words) as an extra thanks! Hope you enjoyed ^^

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[Ao3 link]

[megwritesriddles]

In the Middle of the Night (In My Dreams!) ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 21 - Somnophilia. Riddle has to figure out a way to keep Reader happy and covering for his ever increasing duties outside of the castle. What initially starts as a transaction escalates when they're both more willing than he expected, leading them to explore the slightly more forbidden together.

Tags: Somnophilia (consensual), Mildly dubious consent, Fingering, Hand jobs, Oral sex (f and m receiving), Friends with benefits, Denial of feelings, SoftDom!Riddle, HeadGirl!Reader, Manipulation, Faking an illness (chronic fatigue is very real, he's just a lying POS, only briefly mentioned).

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Okay so despite this poll (sorry), I edited this into a less dark kinktober fic and will then release a much darker (non-con elements) part two after I finally finish kinktober!! This works as a stand alone if you're not into reading that kinda stuff (which I totally understand, ily dw)!! It just felt too dark for kinktober... even tho I literally have non-con as the prompt for day 25.... idk okay!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

PART 2 COMING SOON !! (but works as stand alone)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

The moment the two of you had been announced as Head Boy and Girl at the start of the year, Riddle knew he had to get on your good side. Not only for the purposes of professional engagements and living in the same quarters but also because there would be a lot he’d need from you. Last year, he had found a flaw in the enchantments around the castle, discovering that apparition in and out of the castle was in fact possible, so long as you did so from the room of requirements. He has started attending to business outside of the castle regularly, rallying supporters in closed-off magical communities, among trolls and elves. He also searches for artefacts and researches dark magic when he finds the time, visiting isolated collections owned by old eccentrics who he is able to charm easily. He’s made himself a busy life outside of Hogwarts which he’s determined to keep up in order for his plans post-graduation to go as smoothly as possible. Which is where you come in. 

He leaves for these expeditions every weekend, but obviously, he’s not actually allowed to leave the castle. He has to ask you to cover for him if anyone asks where he’s gone. He concocts a rubbish story about having chronic fatigue and having to rest all the time he can, and that he can’t possibly be disturbed while he’s resting as he’s taking special potions for sleep. It’s all a lie, playing on your empathy, which he knows you have droves of, something you are widely admired for. He tells you that he’s horribly embarrassed about it and doesn’t want anyone to think he’s incapable of being Head Boy because of it, so asks you to cover for him if anyone asks about him. You give him those big sympathetic eyes and agree, workshopping a litany of excuses with him. He almost feels bad with how seriously you’re taking this, how much you want him to feel okay, even though you’ve never liked him much before. Almost. It won’t happen a lot either way, he’s told his ‘friends’ that he will be out of reach and very sternly told them not to question, so they won’t poke around, and anyone else who needs him won’t need him often. He makes a show of being very tired in the evenings in the common room the first few weeks you live together. Soon after, he drops the charade and you don’t seem to notice the falsification happening right in front of you, continuing to cover for him every now and then when it comes up. You even comment optimistically that he seems more energetic lately, to which he smiles.

“I suppose so, yes, it must be that I can finally get the rest I need, thanks to you,” he says smoothly, proud of himself for taking this as another opportunity to keep you pliable. You seem overjoyed to be helping.

In return, he keeps you sweet. At first, he merely observes you to get an idea of what might keep him on your good side. Then, he starts showing up for you. He brings your favourite pastries from breakfast (you have a bad habit of sleeping in, which sometimes makes him wonder how you got this job, but alas), accompanied by a coffee just how you like it. Complimenting you whenever you try a new hairstyle or dress up nicely on weekends. The first time he’d done it, he’d commented on a trim you’d gotten to your hair over the weekend in Hogsmeade. You were baffled, saying no one had noticed a thing all day. He sensed that you found the fact that he was the only one to notice odd, but he couldn’t help being observant. He told you as much, and you just smiled. He makes sure to do any favours you ask of him, so you can’t throw his refusal back in his face in case you want to stop helping him, he needs something to hold over your head. It’s never much, perhaps helping you with a bit of schoolwork, listening to a speech you’ve prepared for Head duties or just jostling the logs in the fireplace of the common room when the flames die down. He’s surprised you don’t ask for more, considering that he starts asking for a lot from you. 

His schedule outside of Hogwarts gets complicated, requiring him to head out occasionally in the middle of the week. You always cover for him, insisting to professors that he’s ill in bed, even though it’s clear by now that you’ve realised he’s actually missing during these periods. Your enthusiasm over helping him out has dwindled as you get the sense you’re being played, but he treats you well enough that you seem to assume the best intentions. How naive. Having someone so respected by the professors, the head girl herself, lying for him, he knows, is the only reason he’s been getting away with it for this long. He’s ‘sick’ far too often and never seen at the hospital wing, never requesting any medicine or showing any symptoms. He wonders what you think he’s doing when he’s away, doubting you could guess the truth, but you never ask despite your increasingly suspicious looks, which he appreciates. He likes you, you’re discreet, a surprising trait for such a goody-two-shoes as you are. He spends more and more time with you in the common room in his free time, charming you and winning you over, making sure he’s there if you need a favour or a ‘friend’ to talk to. He finds you to be intelligent and likeable, you’re funny, even if he prefers a bit of a darker humour than you have. There are silences as you sit together where you stare at him while he works on whatever schoolwork he deems most important that day, he knows you’re formulating all sorts of theories, your brain turning as you try to make a guess.

“I appreciate you being discreet,” he says simply one night as you sit together, working separately on assignments. The statement is followed by a silence in which he is tempted to look over at you to see your reaction but resists the urge.

“I don’t suppose you’ll ever tell me what you’re up to?” It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out as a statement. You already know he won’t, and he knows it too. No matter how good you’ve proved to be about covering for him, if you knew the true nature of what he was up to, you’d run. Tattle before even letting him explain, which really wouldn’t help either way. He turns to you, extending an arm. 

“Come here,” he nods his head in his direction. You look confused, and he doesn’t blame you for feeling that way, he isn’t affectionate with anyone. He makes a point of never being seen as being soft, which is easy given he isn’t soft for anyone. But he knows the type you are, so sweet and kind, the type that you can be won over with a little affection. There’s no one here to see either of you anyway, he can risk it this once. You slowly scoot into his side and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. He brushes an errant strand of hair from your face and holds you to his side. “I really do appreciate it, I’m always here if you need anything from me,” he whispers. You look up at him and nod. “Good,” he hums. You spend the rest of the night pressed into his side as you do your homework, it’s odd, but he’s warm and solid, and most girls at Hogwarts would kill to be in your position, so you let it be. It becomes a fairly frequent scene, the two of you snuggled up by the fire, especially as the days grow colder and colder. His hands like to wander, brushing places they probably shouldn’t, but you never stop him or say a word, letting your own hands wander a little too. You don’t talk about it, not with him or with anyone else. You know without words that he doesn’t want it to leave the room. It’s just another secret you have to keep for him. 

He starts having the need for more frequent meetings with his little group of in-school followers, the Knights of Walpurgis, as his plans get closer and closer to their time of fruition. The Head Common Room is the perfect place to host, spacious and completely secret, except for from you. He knows he has to sweeten the deal once more to have you leave the common room for long periods in the evening. So one night, while the two of you study together snuggled up, he kisses you. You’re alarmed but immediately kiss back. He knew you would, every girl in the damn school would, but it still feels like an unexpectedly simple triumph. His hand grips your jaw, not allowing you to move away, not that you’re trying to. Your hand gently cups the side of his neck, keeping him close as his tongue carefully breaches your lips, slightly surprised by how willing you are for him. He has a multitude of things he’s considered doing to you, but for tonight, he has to stick with something focused on your pleasure. He doesn’t mind, pleasuring you is an act of domination in its own right. By the end of the night, he has you sat between his legs, your back to his chest as his fingers thrust in and out of you. You squirm and mewl in his ear, your head thrown back on his shoulder, as he holds you securely with an arm around your middle, fucking you on his fingers. He’s high off of the fact he has you completely nude apart from your socks before him, while he’s still fully dressed.

“There we go, darling,” he purrs in your ear, gently pressing his lips to your jaw. “I bet you’ve wanted this for quite a while, haven’t you?” he teases, grinding the heel of his palm against you as his fingers press in and out. You must have, given how quickly you’d let him strip you down, manoeuvre you into the position he wanted, just how soaking wet you’d been from a couple of strategic words of praise. He’d wrongly assumed you’d be a little more prudish, but he was pleasantly surprised otherwise. “I want you to do something for me,” he whispers, slowing his movements a little so you can focus on his words. You whine softly in protest and he smirks. “Tomorrow evening, could you make yourself scarce for… let’s say three hours? Starting from… six thirty?” his fingers caress your inner walls torturously lightly, almost tickling, making you squirm unhappily.

“Where would I go?” you exhale.

“Library? Walk the grounds? Astronomy tower? I don’t mind, darling, as long as you’re not here,” he kisses behind your ear softly. He expects some questions or protests, but none come, only a simple nod. He’s a little surprised how easy things are with you, although it may have a lot to do with how his fingers are currently buried deep in your cunt at present, he concedes to himself. But you’re always easy, always helpful, so willing to give him the benefit of the doubt even though you were more than smart enough to know better. “That’s a lovely girl,” he smiles against your skin. He hesitates, unsure whether to reveal the transactional nature of his kindness toward you, but he feels he must assure you somehow that it will be worthwhile. “I’ll reward you accordingly, I promise. You’ll hurry back to me at nine-thirty, won’t you? I’ll be missing you by then,” he purrs, trying to further pull the wool over your eyes with some flattery. He straightens up to look down at you, your head still resting back on his shoulder. “Won’t you?” he prompts again, kissing your forehead. You nod, giving him a pleading look and bucking your hips helplessly. You want him to keep going, feeling half-insane from his unmoving fingers filling you up.

And that he does, finger-fucking you through two mind-blowing orgasms that night, showering you with ever more ridiculous praises as the night goes on. It’s unclear whether you’re losing your mind to the pleasure and not understanding him, or if he’s just spewing every compliment he can possibly think of. Once you’re thoroughly debauched, he helps you into your bed as your legs are too shaky on their own, laying you down and kissing you goodnight with a slightly stilted tenderness. You watch him in quiet confusion as he retreats from your room, feeling satisfied and yet completely confused. 

It becomes a bit of a routine, whenever he needs you to stay away from the common room, or otherwise go out of your way for him, he pulls you into his lap in the evening and tugs down your underwear, pleasuring you expertly. Soon, it becomes harder to tell, as he begins to get you off every night, whether he’s after something or not. You don’t know if it’s just his efforts to make sure you don’t forget to think of him positively, you’re far from oblivious to the fact you’re being bribed, or if he’s just enjoying it at this point. He stretches out your encounters more and more, especially when you start returning the favour, using your hand on him while he does the same to you. You’re pleasantly surprised how aroused he gets just from fucking you on his fingers, always at least half-hard by the time you can get your hands on him. When he introduces his mouth into the equation, you’re sure he’ll be asking something big of you soon. But he doesn’t, nothing new comes up, other than you also beginning to use your mouth on him. He seems to love it, so you suppose it must have been motivation enough. He likes to take his time, to make you feel helpless and desperate, not seeming to care if it leads him to spend long periods of time kneeling before you, which was something you were certain he would have never been caught doing for anyone.

It’s a nice relationship in Riddle's opinion, he gets off and he gets what he wants from you. You make yourself scarce and Riddle is able to conduct his meetings in peace in a perfect setting. Whether you’re using mouths or hands, it’s always intensely pleasurable. He grows attached to the sight of you on your knees before him, his cock deep in your mouth as you look up at him with those wide innocent eyes. You’re amazing with your mouth, and usually willing to get on your knees whenever he’d like you to. It’s a perfect arrangement in this way. He loves to hold you down and make you scream using nothing but his tongue. Some of his friends say that eating out a woman is demeaning, but he never feels more powerful than when he has you crying and begging. He loves to make you beg, long-forgotten is the fact he’s meant to be doing this just to keep you sweet, just to manipulate you into helping him. He’s lost in it now, and no matter how selfish he gets in bed, you keep covering for him, seeming to misinterpret him as generous rather than intensely power-hungry. It works well for his purposes, so he lets you think of him as a giving lover.

He’s a little surprised that you haven’t asked for any exclusivity or any indication of whether he’s bringing in other girls at the times he asks you to keep away. He’s not, of course, but he doesn’t understand why you don’t care to ask. He tells himself that it doesn’t matter, but deep down it does bother him, every other girl he’d ever been involved with, even briefly, had asked to be his one and only. You’re a sweet girl, the type he assumed would fall in love with him the moment he first got his hands on (and in) you, but you haven’t indicated this in any way. He knows you’re not seeing any other men because he keeps an eye on you whenever he can. Even having gone so far as to cancel a meeting with a tradesman in Diagon Alley to stay back and watch you while you think he’s away. Nothing. You go about your day as normal, come back to the common room and curl up to read your book. Just before bed, you attempt to get yourself off and fail, pouting through your night routine. You can’t do it without him, he notes smugly. He wishes he could come help, but he can’t without revealing his spying. By the time he gets back legitimately, you’re fast asleep. Given all of this, he still doesn’t understand why you’re not asking him for a commitment. It’s not that he wants to commit to you, he doesn’t like the idea of being tied down, even if he currently has no interest or energy to pursue anyone but you, but the fact you haven’t asked drives him nuts. You seem happy to get off with him and go to sleep without asking a single question. He lingers in your doorway, watching your frame rise and fall under your blanket with slow breaths, wondering about you.

He’s surprised when you bring it up. How you’d felt his presence in your doorway while you’d been asleep, despite not being fully awake. He explained that he’d been wanting to help you out (his own evasive phrasing) but that you’d been visibly asleep so he’d left instead. At your expression, he asks you teasingly if you’d have liked him to do it anyway, his teasing smirk only growing when you blush and nod. And so a system was set, he tells you to sleep on the sofa in the common room if you’d like his attention during the night, as he has a habit of waking up in the middle of the night to fetch water. You agree and you proceed together like normal for the next few days, pleasuring each other in the evenings when he isn’t busy. Every night, even on nights he wasn’t actually waking up naturally, he would come into the common room to check for you. For a long time, you’re not there, and he’s a little frustrated with you. Why dangle such a tantalising idea in front of him if you never meant to go through with it? He’d been a perfect gentleman, telling you that you could say no if the idea made you uncomfortable, but at the time, you’d seemed apprehensively excited about it, yet now, nothing. His eyes stay glued on your door as he goes about getting his water each night, wishing he could go in there. He tries his best not to show his disappointment when he spends time with you in the daytime, not wanting to come off as pushy and drive you away. He needed you to like him, staying on your good side was non-negotiable and pushing you on a matter like this was generally frowned upon. About a week and a half later, he trudges from his room to top up his glass and sees a lump under a blanket on the sofa. It’s you.

He immediately slows and lightens his footsteps, not wanting to wake you as it would ruin the fun. He hadn’t had time for you the last four days, between increasing stakes when it came to schoolwork and closing in on a magical artefact outside of it, he’d been gone for everything but class and sleep. He creeps over to you, seeing your peaceful face squished against the velvet throw pillow. You must have missed him, he thinks, since you started your little mutual arrangement you’ve never gone more than two days without each other before, mostly because Riddle found himself quite insatiable. He’d always told himself he was uninterested in matters of the flesh, that he enjoyed indulging but could easily control himself, and that he was only doing what he was with you to manufacture a sense of closeness and keep you in the palm of his hand. Yet, he had to admit that he doesn’t usually go so far for the purposes of manipulation and that he never would have done this in the first place if he hadn’t found you attractive. He was unwilling to sacrifice his own happiness for his manipulation, beyond a bit of necessary flattering drivel. So when he’d allowed himself into this arrangement, even simply under a pretence, he had quickly lost control of it and become ravenous for the sensations you could offer. He watches your parted lips as you breathe softly. Gently, he rolls you onto your back, waiting to see if you wake. You don’t. He slips the plush blanket down your body and exposes you to his eyes. You’re dressed in a sweet feminine nightgown and he finds the look to be sweet on you, fitting. You were a perfect thing to corrupt. Yet, he smirks to himself, you had agreed to this, you were already corrupted, so desperate for him that you wanted him even in your sleep. Surely you did want exclusivity from him, you were just trying to appear laid back to not scare him off. You could be endearingly shy like that at times. Yes, you agreeing to this was surely evidence that you wanted more from him than you had. That you needed him.

He slowly and cautiously shifts you around until he can settle comfortably between your legs. His hands run up and down the soft skin of your thighs, keeping a close eye to see if you stir. He wonders if you’re really such a heavy sleeper, or if you’re merely pretending not to have woken for his benefit. At the moment it doesn’t matter to him, you seem asleep enough, and if you are conscious, you’re hardly objecting. He pushes up the hem of your nightdress and grins at the sight of you already bare for him, with no underwear in sight. Naughty girl, he thinks to himself as his hands skim up and down your inner thighs, leaning forward to press a soft kiss just above the little patch of hair shielding the part of you he wants most. He would love to tease you and draw it out more, but he doesn’t want you to wake before he can explore the more intimate aspects. He carefully lies down, guiding one of your supple thighs over his shoulder, spreading you open for his eager eyes. You’re already a little wet, he wonders if it’s from his teasing now, or perhaps your dreamy anticipation. He knows he can get you wetter easily. He uses two fingers to gently spread you open even more, revealing the sensitive pearl nestled within your folds. He blows lightly on it, making you twitch a little. He grins.

Still trying to let you stay asleep for now, he leans in and very gently touches his tongue to your bundle of nerves. You sigh softly in your sleep but don’t seem to wake. Your dreams are turning sticky-sweet, you begin to feel warm and floaty, but you’re not conscious enough to register this change properly. You squirm slightly and moan as his tongue gently swirls around your clit, not touching to keep you just bubbling below waking. Your breath is hitching softly, and little noises are leaving your throat. He can tell you’ll wake soon unless he stops, but he figures he doesn’t mind. He wants to see your face when you wake up to his head between your legs. Will you be shocked to start with? Or immediately eager and accepting? He was oddly thrilled to discover this. Your hands slide away from where they rested on your stomach, trying to grab something as he starts to lap at you just a little faster, your breath hitching a little more, exhaling shakily. He’s surprised you’re still asleep, he’s tempted to use legilimency on you to discover what you’re dreaming of. Your face is flushed and your lips parted blissfully, so he figures it’s something nice. His tongue slides up and down between your slick folds, the familiar taste of you spreading across his tongue as you become more and more aroused. He gently kneads the skin of your hip, pulling you a little closer to his mouth, trying to coax you awake without startling you too much. Your eyelids flutter, but you remain asleep, whimpering quietly. He focuses the tip of his tongue on your clit, making the stimulation just a little more intense, watching for your reaction intently. Your fingers tangle into the crumpled blanket by your side, curling into the plush material, and he knows you're on the very verge of wakefulness. He smirks, gently suckling your clit into his mouth. 

This rips a loud moan from your chest, which in turn makes your eyes snap open. You try to sit up, blinking blearily, looking a little bewildered, trying to make out shapes in the dim moonlight, to understand why you feel lost in a haze of pleasure. Riddle's hand moves, splaying out on your stomach, pushing you back down and holding you there. Your eyes snap to him, he grins up at you from between your legs, looking unbelievably smug, his eyes glinting in the light of the moon. The sight of him between your legs, the knowledge of what he’d been doing while you’d been sleeping, coaxes another moan from your lips. He eases up a little now you’re awake, going back to gentle teasing licks against your bundle of nerves. Your heart pounds and you breathe rapidly, partially reeling from the sudden awakening, but mostly just feeling amazing. You lie back against the sofa, trying your best to get your bearings while he continues smothering you with unrelenting bliss. He pulls back for a moment, though he instantly replaces his mouth with his fingers, not giving you a moment to think. 

“Naughty girl, sleeping without underwear to give me access,” he purrs, his voice rumbling in a self-satisfied manner. You giggle sleepily. You had done that, hadn’t you? He smiles up at you. “Was it a nice awakening, my darling?” he murmurs smoothly, leaning back in to continue his dedicated licks. You whimper softly, your hips twitching before he holds you solidly in place, tutting against your sensitive skin.

“The best awakening, so unbelievably arousing,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, watching him work his magic between your legs. He hums against you. He knows this of course, this was quite possibly the wettest he’d ever had you, only increasing since you’d woken up and become conscious of what he was doing. Your hands slide into his short curls as he works, usually, he might complain about this, but you’re still a little sleepy, and he decides to let it go. You sigh pleasurably, your hooded eyes locked on him. His eyes look up to meet yours as he begins to suckle on your clit once more. Intense pleasure floods over you, your head lolling back, your hands tightening slightly in his hair. You let out a string of desperate moans, moans he’s become intimately familiar with over the past few weeks. You’re close and he intends to get you there, to show you how much you need him, to remind you that you can no longer achieve this alone, if you ever could. He doubles down on his actions, gripping your hip a little tighter to keep you firmly in place. “Oh… Tom!” you plead, trying to grind your centre up into his face. You could get so desperate sometimes, Riddle tuts to himself. “Please,” you beg, anticipating his desire to tease you and hoping to get ahead of it. You need this, badly, he hasn’t been around to help you for days, and the scenario was driving you mad with lust. He’s uncharacteristically gracious, not relenting, continuing to lavish you with exquisite sensation, building you up and up. You look down again, and as his eyes meet yours, the coil in your belly snaps. Your whole body tenses, your back arching off of the sofa, a guttural cry escaping you. He holds your hips in place, continuing his assault as you ride out the climax. Tears gather in your eyes and you feel a little humiliated by how intensely this is affecting you. 

After several desperate sobs, you finally collapse back, your hands slipping from his hair. You take several deep breaths as he withdraws from between your legs, sitting up to look down at you. He grabs a tissue from the coffee table, wiping his mouth and discarding it haphazardly. You smile tiredly, and you feel exhausted by your sudden wake-up, but completely heavenly at the same time. You stare at each other for a moment. It’s an oddly domestic moment. You’ve never seen him in his pyjamas before, a matching shirt and trousers, made of silk or some other such soft material, the type that’s popular with the rich Slytherin boys. His hair is a little curly naturally, this you did know from him getting back to the common room on rainy days, but is now slightly messed up from your hands in it. You cover yourself back up, tugging the hem of your nightdress back down as he watches. He looks almost sweet, he has been sweet to you, in his own way. He reaches over and touches your flushed cheek, rubbing it softly with his thumb, unsure whether he’s trying to prove his effect on you, or just wishing to touch you. 

“I’ll have to think of something to ask of you in exchange for doing that,” he jokes a little unnaturally. You laugh honestly. 

“You didn’t already have something?” you tease, moving to sit up. He smiles, enjoying the way you see through him, just enough to prove you’re not stupid, but not enough to compromise any plans. Perhaps that’s why you haven’t asked for exclusivity with him, you’re not stupid like the others, whether you want it or not being irrelevant to the facts. The facts that were feeling more like theories lately.

“No, believe it or not,” he chuckles, pushing your hair behind your shoulder. “But it’ll be easy enough to think of something,” he pulls you onto his lap and kisses you goodnight. “You always find a way of being useful,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[thelambthatkilledthewolf]

I think that Tim, like an idiot, deluded himself into believing that being mechanized would somehow make his brain perfect and cure his autism. So he didn't tell the crew that he's autistic

I also think that this led to some Issues™

[avirael]

Empty Chairs at Empty Tables

Returning to the Rising Stones gave A‘viloh a strange feeling. In a way everything had returned to normal. The sultana was not truly dead and would recover fully. The Scions were acquitted of all accusations and A‘viloh and Rael were allowed to travel Ul’dah and the rest of Eorzea again without fearing capture.

But to be honest nothing felt like it had returned to normal. Not here and not at all. The Rising Stones felt foreign and empty. The place had clearly been ransacked and only a handful of people had returned. There were a few familiar faces still but everyone who had made this place a safe haven for A‘viloh was gone.

Sure, Riol and the others promised to search for the Scions, and beside the Shinobi now the Immortal Flames too had begun looking for them. But so far Yugiri hadn’t found any clues and A‘viloh worried that there weren’t any to find at all. Or worse, that what they’d find would only prove all of his worst fears true.

“If they are alive, Yugiri and the others will find them…”, Rael said and placed a hand on A’viloh’s shoulder as he stared at the empty chairs and tables around the room. But the dark expression didn’t want to leave his face. “And what if they aren’t?”

For a moment Rael stayed silent and made a face as if they wanted to tell him that everything would be fine. But Rael couldn’t know that for sure and they weren’t one to tell lies.

“…then we find out anyway. At least we will know what happened then and get some closure.”

Closure? Rael should know that A‘viloh was not good at this. He had never been, had never known how to let go and move on. His mind had never let him and if it wasn’t actively reminding him of his losses and failures, they still would frequently return to haunt him in his sleep. His demons knew no closure.

Rael scowled as the Miqo’te grimaced. “You do know, that they are MY friends too, right A‘vi? I‘m worried about them too but while they are gone - and I want to believe they will all return safely - but while they are gone we must continue doing what they want us to. We cannot do much to help the search but we can maybe prevent Ishgard‘s destruction.”

Absentmindedly A‘viloh nodded. “You‘re right. I am sorry…”

But he could not tear his eyes away from the place were their friends had so often sat down to eat or talk or just spent time together. He could still invision it so clearly. Even without the echo the memory was still so vivid in his mind, it was as if he could imagine their ghosts sitting right here this very moment.

For a short second he was presumptuous enough to wonder if this was how Hraesvelgr and Nidhogg felt…

[sunderwight]

SV fic where Shen Yuan transmigrates into the former sect leader, Yue Qingyuan's shizun, right before Yue Qi shows up at the selection trials.

Shen Yuan is not sure why he's in one of his all-time hate-reads, let alone why he's gone so far back before the story actually begins (his system appears to be malfunctioning? something about an error and emergency backup...?), but he's making the most of it. This despite the fact that being a sect leader is a much more prestigious and political role than he likes.

But Shen Yuan is, at heart, actually a pretty good teacher, and he's spent enough time witnessing administrative work secondhand that he can competently tackle most of his duties. Whatever he can't handle, luckily there are other masters on Qiong Ding who always seem eager to curry favor by volunteering at the least hint that they should. Apparently his predecessor was known for being kind of cold-blooded and ruthless. (Shen Yuan gets checked for possession and it's concluded behind his back that he most have lost some of his memories, again, but also everyone kinda prefers this version anyway, again.)

But, so, he picks Yue Qi at the trials without even realizing at first who he's selecting, but just because that kid seems really determined to get in and clearly has been through it. Reminds him of Luo Binghe. Even when he puts it all together, all he feels mostly is kind of bad about it? He never thought Yue Qingyuan was sufficiently villainous to merit his end, even though he didn't blame Binghe for it either. He was always a mystery, an apparently kind person who nevertheless had some inexplicable fondness for the scum villain, turned a blind eye towards his abuses, and got dragged down with him. Shen Yuan feels even worse when he actually gets to know his solemn, smiling, secretive little disciple.

Yue Qi is very determined to advance, and as quickly as possible. Shen Yuan admonishes him. Obviously this kid has a protagonist-like aura and a similar drive to get places quickly, but you can't speedrun your disciple era, Mr. Future Sect Leader! There's no montage mode! Most of his attempts at intervening meet a brick wall that is Yue Qi's impenetrable smile and polite deference if he even hints at displeasure (this kid's gonna make a great politician one day), but Shen Yuan changes tactics and starts manufacturing excuses for breaks, taking Yue Qi on him with trips off the mountain and finding reasons to stop at local festivals and hot springs and etc. He can tell something's off with the quality of frustration that his disciple sometimes expresses, with how there's fear to it, but he's at a loss for the cause and it's difficult to get Yue Qi to talk. Despite appearances, he's actually very distrustful of adults.

When Yue Qi asks to claim his sword early, Shen Yuan says no. He remember how reputedly powerful Xuan Su was, and his disciple definitely needs a stronger base if he's going to pull a sword of that caliber. But he suspects this won't go over well, and when he catches Yue Qi sneaking off to Wan Jian Peak on his own, his disciple finally breaks down and admits that he needs to get strong in order to save his most important person.

Shen Yuan is moved. The way Yue Qi speaks, he's certain this person is a young maiden whom his student has fallen in love with. Truly, the sect leader was so very similar to Luo Binghe at heart! He must have failed in the original story, and that contributed to his difficulties and sorrows later on. Of course Shen Yuan will help him rescue his sweetheart!

Even if his sweetheart is... surprisingly butch? And is a slave owned by the Qiu family, and, wait a second, that name is kind of familiar... oh.

Oh dear.

Shen Yuan is internally screaming even as he helps buy Xiao Jiu out of bondage, even as he gives Yue Qi money to get his newly rescued friend all cleaned up and suitably dressed for the trip back to Cang Qiong, even as he buys the boys tanghulu for a treat, even as the System cheerfully informs him that his new quest is to get Xiao Jiu accepted onto Qing Jing Peak, even as Yue Qi tears up for the first time when he thanks him for helping.

He can only get to sleep that night by consoling himself with the knowledge that his generation is going to retire well before Luo Binghe and The Plot actually show up.

The System: (〜￣▽￣)〜

5 Years Later:

Huan Hua Palace Master: Sect Leader, we need your help! A terrible Heavenly Demon has come to threaten the whole of human society!

Shen Yuan: That's not possible. He isn't even born yet.

HHP Master: What?

Shen Yuan: What?

[ozzgin]

Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)

Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D

Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW

[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]

The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.

Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.

"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."

You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:

"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."

He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.

"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”

Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.

“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.

“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”

“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.

You sigh.

Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.

How's your life with Zzy going?

You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?

On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”

If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”

Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.

As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.

Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.

"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.

"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"

"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."

You sigh once more and roll over.

"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.

"Just go to sleep. Or something."

[furuu]

꒰ ♡ ꒱ continuation of this drabble!

∘ʚ ♡ You stared at him, heart pounding, still trying to process what you were seeing. The bowl lay shattered at his feet, and the tiny blob you had placed in water was no more. Instead, the very real and very imposing Ryomen Sukuna, in all his Heian-era glory, sat casually beside the wreckage. His muscular form and sharp, intimidating presence were a stark contrast to the squishy little blob you had tucked in just the night before.

And yet, despite his terrifying reputation, there was no malice in his gaze. His four eyes, two narrowed slightly, gleamed with what looked like amusement. The way he tilted his head, the playful quirk of his brow—it was all so bizarre. This was the King of Curses, and he was sitting in your room, almost… relaxed?

"You’re awake," he repeated, his voice low and smooth. It had an edge to it, sure, but it wasn’t harsh. "You really went through all that trouble for a little surprise?"

Your throat felt dry. What were you supposed to say? You had gone to bed with a tiny blob floating in a bowl and now woke up to this—an ancient, fearsome being watching you with an expression that was more curious than cruel. It was almost as if he were… amused by you.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. “I… I didn’t expect this to happen.”

Sukuna chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through the quiet room. His gaze shifted lazily to the broken bowl beside him. “Obviously,” he drawled, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “Though, I must say, for a human, you have a decent taste in aesthetics. But next time,” he said, casting a side glance at the ceramic shards, “maybe use something less fragile.”

The teasing tone in his voice caught you off guard. You had expected something much more sinister, but here he was, sitting in your room, acting almost casual. Your mind raced, still trying to reconcile this version of Sukuna with the stories you had heard—the stories that painted him as a bloodthirsty, ruthless curse who tore through villages and devoured sorcerers.

Still, his presence was overwhelming. He exuded power, even in this calm state, and you could feel the weight of his aura pressing against your skin. Yet, he wasn’t attacking. He wasn’t even threatening you. In fact, he seemed perfectly content to just sit there, watching you with that curious, almost playful expression.

You blinked, your mind finally catching up to the situation. “So…” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. You weren’t sure how to handle a situation like this—how does one handle the King of Curses suddenly materializing in their bedroom?

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. He leaned back slightly, resting one arm on his knee as if settling in for a conversation. “So...?” he echoed, a mocking lilt to his voice. “You’re the one who followed the instructions. Did you not expect something magical to happen?” His grin widened, and his sharp teeth glinted in the morning light. “Or were you hoping for something else?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks as his words sunk in. You had followed the instructions on the note, expecting something magical, yes—but you certainly hadn’t expected this. You fumbled for a response, but Sukuna’s deep, rumbling laugh cut through the air before you could find your words.

“Relax,” he said, his voice dropping to a more casual tone. “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you, now would I?”

You swallowed, trying to push down the lingering fear that curled in your stomach. He was right, of course. Sukuna had the power to end you in an instant, and yet… here he was, speaking to you as if this was all some elaborate game. The thought was both unsettling and strangely comforting.

Gathering your courage, you met his gaze. “So… why are you here, then? What happens now?”

Sukuna’s smirk softened slightly, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “That depends on you, little human.” His voice was smooth, almost inviting. “You’re the one who summoned me, after all. You took care of that ridiculous blob form, didn’t you? You must’ve wanted something more.”

You blinked, taken aback. Wanted something more? You had just been following the note, doing what you thought was a harmless little ritual. But now, with Sukuna sitting here, his sharp eyes watching you so intently, you weren’t so sure.

“I didn’t know—” you began, but Sukuna waved a hand, cutting you off.

“Spare me the innocent act,” he said, though his tone was more teasing than harsh. “You wanted something magical to happen, and now it has. The question is… what will you do with it?”

You stared at him, your mind racing. What did you want? This was Sukuna, the King of Curses, sitting here as if waiting for your next move. The situation felt surreal, like you had stepped into a dream you couldn’t quite wake up from.

Sukuna leaned forward slightly, his grin returning, though it was softer now. “Tell me, little human,” he purred, “do you want to keep me around? Or are you going to toss me out like some discarded toy?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the question. Was he serious? You weren’t sure if he was playing with you or if there was some genuine curiosity behind his words. Either way, the weight of his presence was undeniable. Something in you knew that once this door was opened, there was no going back.

With a deep breath, you met his gaze, trying to ignore the way your hands trembled slightly. “I… I didn’t summon you on purpose,” you said quietly, “but I guess… I wouldn’t mind you sticking around.”

Sukuna’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his grin widening. “Good answer.” He leaned back again, his posture relaxed, but his gaze never left you. “Then I suppose I’ll stick around for a bit. Let’s see how much trouble we can get into, shall we?”

You couldn’t help but smile, a mixture of nerves and excitement bubbling inside you. Ryomen Sukuna—terrifying, powerful, and dangerous—was staying. And despite the unease that lingered, you couldn’t deny the thrill of it all.

You let out a soft yawn, the adrenaline finally wearing off. The weight of sleep was creeping back in, and despite the bizarre situation, your body was craving rest. Sukuna’s imposing form loomed over you, but in your sleepy state, the fear and tension had dulled into a strange kind of comfort.

Rubbing your eyes, you glanced at the clock. It was still early, barely past dawn. The whole thing—his appearance, the shattered bowl, his unsettling yet playful questions—it all felt like a weird dream. Too tired to overthink, you found yourself blinking up at Sukuna, his four sharp eyes still trained on you with an amused glint.

Without even realizing what you were saying, you mumbled, “Hold me for the night?”

Sukuna blinked, his grin faltering for just a second. The great Ryomen Sukuna, feared by all, paused at your sleepy, groggy request. His four eyes widened slightly, as if processing the absurdity of your words. You didn’t notice, though—your eyelids were already drooping, too exhausted to care about how awkward your request might have sounded.

“Seriously?” he muttered, but you were already leaning forward, head resting against his chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He hesitated, glancing down at you, completely thrown off by the casual intimacy. It had been centuries since anyone had dared get this close to him—let alone asked him to hold them.

For a moment, Sukuna considered leaving you to sleep on your own. This was beneath him, after all. He was the King of Curses, not some comforting presence. But as your breath slowed and your body relaxed against him, something shifted in his expression. His smirk softened, and a quiet, almost reluctant sigh escaped him.

With an eye-roll, Sukuna slowly, carefully, wrapped his four arms around you. His movements were deliberate, as if testing out how this worked. One arm cradled your shoulders, another curved around your waist, while the other two gently held you in place, your small frame nestled against his chest. It was strange—foreign, even—but for some reason, he didn’t hate it.

You sighed in contentment, snuggling closer to the warmth of his body, completely oblivious to the fact that you had just fallen asleep in the arms of the deadliest curse in history. Sukuna glanced down at you, his gaze lingering on your peaceful face. He huffed, a soft chuckle escaping him despite himself.

“Ridiculous human,” he murmured under his breath, his lips curling into a smirk once more. “You really have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you?”

But even as he muttered the words, Sukuna didn’t let go. His grip on you remained firm, yet careful, and as the early morning light filtered through the window, the King of Curses stayed by your side, cradling you in his four powerful arms as you slept soundly, completely unaware of the strangeness of it all.

Maybe sticking around wouldn’t be so bad after all.・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

[vampiresbloodx]

Only you.

pairings: Agatha Harkness x Reader

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut, slight fluff, angst, hurt but with comfort, reader has chronic illness, death mentioned, slight violence, mind control, spoilers if you haven't seen Wandavision or Agatha all along, kind of canon, witch!reader, reader struggles a lot, Agatha is obsessed with them, g!n!reader, reader has a vagina, dry humping, degration kink, rough sex, oral sex, top!agatha, bottom!reader, lesbian agatha harkness my beloved.

a/n: first fic I've posted in months, god I miss writing long oneshots, the inspiration is to the fact that I'm obsessed with this milf.

Agatha Harkness had always admired you. From afar, there was no real reason why, unlike most of her motives, she’d always want one thing and one thing only; power. You on the other hand gave her something else much fun. 

She was always going to be obsessed with power. That’s just who she is and who everybody else knows. But she likes to think you know her differently, maybe even better. She couldn’t wrap her head around it when she first met you, of course, your arrival in westview was unexpected. With others not hearing of your name in a while, where you have been, what you have been up to. She knew you liked to keep to yourself, it was a skill really. Especially in the witch world. 

Yes, it added more energy to those names everyone admires or fears away from, for instance, every witch in history and till this day has heard of the scarlet witch. They've heard very little of you, but your name does travel around. 

Since the Salem times. 

Maybe you just didn't like the attention yourself, you were a silent one. Despite your magic. 

Agatha knows that every witches magic reflects who they truly are on the inside. Just no one would expect it from you. 

Obviously, she had checked the most obvious place, Westview. But there was no sight of you, she would have sensed your energy anyway, she just couldn’t feel you anywhere. 

After finally returning back to her true self, not the “agnes” from the last three wasted years of her life. Her first thought was wanting to find you. 

She used to feel you everywhere, now, it was just a memory. 

She wasn’t going to allow that to happen. She knew her mind had been twisted and you wouldn’t have gone that far. 

So why couldn’t she feel you? 

Agatha started to panic from the worst case scenarios that could have happened to you while she wasn’t keeping an eye on you. Did Wanda do something? No, this doesn’t seem like something she’d do without a good reason. Unlike her, you actually made an attempt to be close to Wanda, to try and be her friend, you were casted the role as her best friend, it only made sense. 

She hated that. Watching how friendly the two of you were, how you always were laughing around the other witch, how happy you looked. She wasn’t blind to how Wanda was very touchy with you either. 

It made her sick. 

If only she had the one book that made her feel more powerful than anything else in this world and it didn’t fall into the hands of her. 

But was the dark hold really going to save her? 

Why was she thinking so little anyways? Probably the side effects to what Wanda did to her. 

She didn’t like it. 

She needed to find you. 

She had to. 

There wasn’t really any reason to explain herself, just her feeling. 

-

Sometime, somewhere in Salem, 1600s. 

Your body ached. 

Everywhere there was pain. 

Constant, irritable pain. You couldn’t do anything. There was not much to do when you were bedridden most of your life since you were a kid. You didn’t exactly have the luckiest childhood, where you got to experience going to school, having friends, making memories, first love, first kisses. No. it was just seeing doctor after doctor. 

You got sick easily compared to most children, there was never any reason behind it. Some thought it was the usual with the body changing, puberty, growth, but it was more than that. It wasn’t fair. You shouldn’t have to live like this. 

Then one day, it got better. 

You were still young, you had just turned 18. A big time for people your age. You were becoming an adult. And finally, for once you could breathe fresh air without feeling any sort of pain. 

And of course, that was the year the Salem witch trials began. 

On your birthday, you were to be trailed. 

Then to be dead. 

-

Somewhere, sometime, in modern world. 

Times have changed. 

There were no burning witches, no more trails, it was even considered more accepted. Instead now, they had guns, more firepower than before. 

You’d much prefer the bullet to the head than being burned alive any day. 

It was quick and effective. Well, if used right. 

You should be dead. Even after your trial, you shouldn’t still be alive. Maybe you should consider being more “positive” . It's kind of hard to when you spend most of your youth in bed. 

Now things were different for you, which should be a good thing, but it didn’t feel so. You worked, had your own place to call home, didn’t really bother making any friends, you didn’t care if people thought you were strange to be a loner at your age, you liked that. 

Even so, you don’t even know your age. You know you were once 18, then you made it to your twenties or something, and then it all stopped. You didn’t have the ageing effect everyone else got. Witches aren’t immortal beings, though, we possess the power to live longer than humans, we still age, and look “older.” 

You still looked like you could be a damn college student. And yet you didn’t feel like you were at all. 

God, you were born centuries ago. You can’t even remember your birthday. You usually have to make one up to please those around you, so they don’t have another excuse to make you look even weird. 

You didn’t really understand what the big deal was. 

Sure, now, there were real life superheroes, straight out of the comics, captain america, Iron man, the black widow, Thor, whoever else there was, there were too many of them. 

You wondered why witches didn’t also get this much attention as well. Hell, you could literally move things with your mind, okay, so can some special people with abilities, but they weren’t witches. 

They weren’t born with the ability blessed to know witchcraft. Sure, it can be easily accessible, but only you yourself knows that part of you. 

It was all rather complicated stuff really. 

In all of your time being alive, there weren't that many people who moved you, not quite like her. 

There wasn't just one her. 

These women who impacted your life more than you could have imagined, changed it for the better or for the worse, you wouldn’t know. The names that were carved into your skin, so you could never forget. 

You wouldn’t be able to anyways. 

You never spoke of their names out loud, fearing that they would pop up at any moment, you knew that possibility would be low, still, you couldn’t help but wonder. 

The connections you shared with them is what you miss the most. And their touch. 

You sometimes still see her. Either walking outside of where you worked, in a crowd, in the train, in your apartment, staring at you. 

Just in a blink of an eye, a flash of hair the color of scarlet would pass by, then hair dark as night. 

It was a never ending torment. 

You couldn’t get rid of them. 

Even if you had the choice you wouldn’t. 

It would probably kill you if you tried. 

-

Westview, 2023. 

When you arrived, it was late. Most of the residents of this town would have gone to bed already, not you. You wanted to introduce yourself, the new neighbour moving in, this town didn’t seem that bad, everyone so far was nice to you, welcoming. 

Then you finally met her. 

She came to you first, already expecting your arrival. You were surprised when you opened your door and it revealed a woman standing in front of you. And she was absolutely gorgeous. 

“Hi! I’m Wanda, welcome to Westview!” she greeted with a bright smile, your heart immediately warmed at the sight, the sound of her voice soothed you, you felt so relaxed around her, like you already trusted her. 

It was your turn to introduce yourself, you did so, shyly. 

“What a beautiful name” she complimented with a chuckle, enjoying how flustered you easily got as you avoided her gaze, how you fidgeted with your fingers together. 

“May I come in? I made chocolate chip cookies for my boys, I seemed to have made too many, I always go overboard with my baking. Here, try some, I hope you like them!” she grinned, handing you the container of freshly made cookies that made your stomach growl with hunger. 

They were even wrapped in a cute pink bow. 

You wondered how someone so perfect could exist and breathe the same air as you at the same time, you even questioned if she was really and truly real. But when she leaned in for a hug, you couldn’t resist, and you knew she felt real. 

You didn't mean to end up in Westview, and yet here you are. 

Wrapped around a certain witch's finger, who wants you all to herself, while she watches, from afar. 

-

Shortly after meeting Wanda, you met Agnes. 

Though you felt like you already knew her. From somewhere, sometime, you weren’t sure. She looked familiar. You didn’t get this feeling when you had met everyone else, so why was she different? 

You soon found out why. 

Not very long when chaos struck. 

-

You were running, out of breath, you forgot why you were running in the first place. Were you chasing something or was something coming after you? No. You were heading somewhere. The town that was Westview, now turned to shit, as above you, far from your view, two witches fought. All you could think about was one thing only; fuck the dark hold. 

Fuck whoever created that stupid overly powerful book. It had ruined everything for you, it ruined the ones you loved. 

You couldn’t even do anything about it. 

It was so powerful that someone like you couldn't withstand it. 

And it was crushing everything you loved. 

You wish you could burn it. 

It turned the one witch who saved you all those centuries ago into something twisted, dark. She wasn’t always like that, not the woman you first met and knew, fell in love with, who saved you. Who would walk through hell just to get to you. She will still do that, just she doesn't feel the same to you anymore. 

In her eyes, you still saw the soft Agatha hidden behind all that darkness. Her heart was tainted, you weren’t sure if you liked this Agatha now or the one you met, you can’t help but fall more in love with her. 

And she knows it. 

When she heard you cry out in pain, being thrown by the scarlet witch’s power, she stopped. You were her weakness. Wanda saw that. 

How her eyes immediately went to you, how your body was in pain, as you groaned out. You were no match for the scarlet witch, so what the hell were you doing? She didn’t think too much of that, her main focus was Wanda, still she kept her eyes on you. 

Only you. 

Her heart thumped loudly in her ears, there was a loud ringing noise, she couldn’t focus, her breathing turned ragged, out of her own stubbornness, She flew to you, in front of you, you saw an angel, she was far from one. 

She cupped your face, it sent a chill down your spine as you let out a shudder, wanting more of her, to be closer, as you slowly moved your body towards her, the best you can with whatever energy you had left inside you. 

“No” she whispered, forcing your body to not move, you only managed to look up and see her face despite your vision going blurry, you were so so tired. “I want to make this right, I need to, for you, it’s all I ever want, I need just you, I shouldn’t have left you by yourself, it was cruel, a mistake, but I knew we’d always find each other again. From the vow we made all those centuries ago, now, close your eyes, I’ll make it right, rest, you’ll see me soon” and then she kissed you. 

You felt yourself break out in a sob, this made you hate her, made you angry, as you watched her walk away, you couldn’t do anything. 

Then everything went black. 

-

Sometime in 2024. 

Now you can breathe again. 

Just a bit. 

You have always felt like you were suffocating, or drowning underwater, begging, grasping for air. Your lungs tightening, your throat closing, you couldn’t scream, make a sound, it was the worst torture you’ve experinced. Until you had to watch your lover get erased and completely forget about your entire existence. 

You would have preferred getting killed. 

But the scarlet witch didn’t show mercy like that. 

Even if you begged her. 

You wished it was you who had their memory erased, but you remember every single thing that happened. How you got to Westview, when everything turned to shit, it was already going bad from the start, you saw reality break in front of you and everyone else. 

You remembered waking up, Wanda was gone, so were her boys and Vision, and you had met Monica, who helped you off the ground in the first place, she was nice, you were grateful she didn’t suspect you to be working with the Scarlet Witch. 

Even then you found she was trying to help her, instead of imprisoning her, she wanted to help everyone. 

When you had asked her of Agatha, she was quiet. 

“She’s… Agnes now. I’m sorry.” 

You didn’t know why she even apologised to you, knowing Agatha could have quite literally killed her if she wanted to, maybe she felt pity for you, how she saw it in your eyes of you felt for the witch. 

Despite it all. 

Now you were living quite nicely, the apartment building of where you rented your place wasn’t too loud even during the day, at night, you like to go on walks, enjoying the lack of people around, your neighbour had protested to you going out by yourself but you preferred it that way. You worked in a cute book shop just a few streets from your place, everyday you wake up at the same time, sometime sleeping in longer if you wanted to, as you always went out and got your favourite coffee, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun. you’d come back home, slipping out of your work clothes and into something much more comfortable and outside there would be a beautiful sunset. 

As you sit at your desk, drinking a cup of coffee, writing down your day in your journal, keeping track of everything that’s happened, adding down stuff you needed to get from the market, what you wanted to cook, or bake. 

Then there was a sudden knock at your door. 

Weird. 

You weren’t expecting anyone coming over, unless it was your neighbour, who often was a bit nosy but she was relatively nice. 

Letting out a sigh as you’d hope they would have walked away if you didn’t answer the first knock, but then there was another, it sounded urgent, strange. As you stood up, placing your cup down as you walked towards the door, putting on a smile, you opened it. 

The air was knocked out of you in a heartbeat, before your eyes, you couldn’t believe who you were seeing, after all these years, how, why? You couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

“Agatha?” you whispered, not wanting to say the name outloud in fear of her disappearing. 

She bent down on her knees, her hand reaching out as you grabbed it, your hands shook, she stared into your gaze, helping you stand up. 

“How did you… is it really you?” you asked with a gasp, she smiled, walking into your apartment, stepping closer to you as she didn’t let go of your hand. “How did you find me?.” 

“My precious kitten, I'll always find you.” 

Your heart skipped a beat hearing her voice again, it was real, she was real, her touch, her voice, everything. 

You wanted to know how, but you didn’t care. She knew that, she saw it in your eyes, how much hunger there was inside them, your skin felt like it was on fire, you needed her. 

“Kiss me” you whimpered, she closed the door behind her using her foot, as she grinned. 

Agatha pulled you in closer, you smelt her scent, lavender, she always loved lavender. So did you. It became your favourite. You felt her hands grip your waits, as her lips kissed yours, you moaned, wrapping your arms around her neck. She groaned into the kiss, sending a chill down your spine. 

She pushed you against the wall, her lips leaving yours as she kissed down your neck, sucking hard on your skin,causing your body to shudder, leaving a visible mark. You wanted more. You whined, pushing yourself into her more, she chuckled. 

“Needy.” 

You huffed, “you like it.” 

“Touche.” 

Her lips found yours again as she hummed, she was enjoying this, teasing you, your Agatha hasn’t changed not one bit. You felt her knee pressed in between your thighs, with the little clothing you wore to bed, you were grateful, moaning as you ground yourself on her leg. She chuckled, her nails digging into you to keep you still as you fucked yourself on her. 

“So innocent, yet you fuck like a whore” she grinned, kissing along your jawline, her tongue licking your skin, as your head fell into her neck, you were getting close, she knew this, she wasn’t a stranger to how your body reacted around her, it was building up inside you, fast. You cried out as you came, embarrassingly quick, but she didn’t seem to care, as she lifted you up, you thought she would have used her magic, like she would have done, but you soon realised she didn’t have any. 

Agatha didn’t let that stop her from getting what she wants, yeah, she feels more useless and powerful, weak, around you she gained a little of that power back, you made her feel powerful, beautiful. 

She pushes you onto the bed, making you lay down on your back, her hands quickly pulling at your clothes as she rips it off, revealing your bare chest, as she admires you, you shy away. It's been a long time since she looked at you like that. 

“Gorgeous, you’re so beautiful” she murmured softly, your cheeks heated up as you bit down on your bottom lip. You let her pull down your panties, she moaned at the sight, how wet you already were, practically soaking, your wetness dripping down your inner thigh. 

She licked her lips hungrily, she felt like she was a starving dog, about to devour. She kissed up your thighs, using her hand to spread them more wide for her, she stared up at you, you watched her eyes darkened, you missed this, you missed her. 

Your hands found their way to her hair, still felt so soft, you always loved running your hands through her hair, she pretended not to like it, but you saw the way she’d lean into you more, asking you to do it again without saying it outloud, she loved it. 

Her tongue licked up your cunt, making you gasp as you gripped harder, she kept going, still fucking with you, even now, with her head in between your thighs. You enjoyed it. You didn’t want her to stop as you pressed your legs against her head, forcing her to stay there as she wrapped her mouth around your clit, earning a moan from you as more came out as she sucked on it, she didn’t let go until she made you come as many times as she wanted you to, she loved the way you tasted, how sweet it was on her tongue, as she consumed you. 

Your body went limp as you had to practically beg for agatha to stop, you’d reach your limit, and she broke through. She pulled herself away with a wicked grin, your wetness all over her chin, as she leaned into you, kissing you, you tasted yourself on her lips. 

You wanted more. 

You grabbed agatha by her hips as you moved the both of you so that you were now on top, she smiled, giving a small laugh. 

She reached up and cupped your face, her eyes set on you. “Is it your turn for a taste?” she whispered. 

You didn’t answer, with a flick of your wrist, she was naked, as you went down on her, kissing along her skin, biting her, wanting to make her cry out. 

You won’t stop until you’ve consumed every part of her.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Cuddling with 141 (+Roach!)

Summary: How I think Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost and Roach would cuddle + little blurbs.

Word Count: ~ 2.1k

Warnings: None!

A/N: wrote this at 2am😭 hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

Simon “Ghost” Riley 💀

- Tries his hardest to act tough and scary, but only because that’s how a Lieutenant is supposed to act. Or at least that’s what he thinks.

- Also isn’t sure how to cuddle, never saw his dad trying to do anything other than abuse his mom, and his brother was dead before he could ask him for any advice.

- As stiff as a board, has no idea what to do, just awkwardly sitting and glancing at you, increasingly concerned.

- Would eventually get the hang of it only after Johnny made fun of him for being so awful with it, did it just to spite his beloved Sergeant (also practiced cuddling with Johnny, obviously just for practice, nothing more.)

- Likes being the little spoon.

It had been one hell of a mission, 141 barely finding a safe house to rest in for a few hours and restock their weapons and ammo before having to move again. A few more hours, and though Simon knew he should be resting, he couldn’t get his brain off of alert mode, so he settled for watching the game on the telly, even if it was in Spanish. He was mostly fluent, anyway.

You had plopped down next to him after a few minutes, mumbling something about cleaning your gun, taking a rag to wipe it down and try to clear it out, your hands soon slipping down as your eyes dropped.

The other boys had gone off somewhere else in the safe house, probably to find a bed or secure it further like he should be doing right now, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t bring himself to stand up and shake you off.

You eventually went fully limp, head banging against his shoulder, somehow now waking you even then as you mumbled something, hand slipping towards your gun’s trigger. It was then that he moved, but not to get up, simply to gently pry the firearm from your hand as he clicked the safety on and let it drop to the floor.

The game blared in the background, but Simon was more focused on you, still leaning into him, and the fact that he was even entertaining this. His muscles were stiff, quickly growing sore and agitated at him after the constant use of the day. Slowly, he relaxed, finding that you melted into his body a lot easier when he wasn’t tensed up completely.

Slowly sliding one arm around your waist, obviously just to make sure you didn’t fall off the couch, nothing more, Simon leaned his head back against the couch, his own honey-brown eyes fluttering shut soon enough as he found enough peace of mind for an hour or two of rest.

Not much, but a welcome reprieve.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish 🧼

- Has no shame at all. Will cuddle you during exfil in front of everyone with no care.

- Very clingy, and also a living furnace. Good to have in the winters, since he keeps you warm, but a nightmare in the summers.

- Will whine like a puppy if you refuse to cuddle with him for heat reasons or whatever, absolutely desperate, golden retriever of a man.

- Definitely see him as the type to enjoy lying on top of you, or being the big spoon, but is down to experiment with anything you want. And I mean everything. Frighteningly open to experimentation.

- Sleeps wild or like a rock, no in between.

Of course, they’d sent Task Force 141 and their one notoriously cold-sensitive member out to Russia, staking out for any sign of a recent contract signed between them and Germany, an agreement for some form of biochemical weapon that could be catastrophic in the wrong hands.

“Doin’ alright over there, Shivers?”

You heard a Scottish voice ask from the crunchy grass you were all lying in, Gaz and Price twenty feet to your left, Ghost twenty to your right, you and Johnny right next to each other. You could see your own body shaking, feeling the ground leach out any remaining warmth from it despite your thick clothing.

“Yeah, just-t-t cold.”

You saw Ghost glance back at you, probably having heard your teeth chattering from over there. You heard the radio hiss before his voice sounded.

“When I said stay frosty, I didn’t mean it literally.”

His deadpan tone said, earning a hushed bark of laughter from Johnny, and Price shooting you a sympathetic look with Gaz. You sighed.

“Very funny-y, Ghost.”

You mumbled, not even bothering to say it over the radio. Warm palms encompassed your wrists before you could do anything to stop it, and Johnny moved in closer.

“What’re you-?”

“Ain’t gonna be any use to us as a popsicle, eh Shivers?”

You felt the weight of his body settle even closer, nearly right on top of you, gingerly taking your numb fingers and switching your gloves out with his. His gloves were already warm, and larger and kept the air insulated better. Your gloves barely fit his hands, but he didn’t seem to mind. His body heat leaked into you, numb limbs springing back to life as that pinpricky sensation crawled up your body.

You relaxed a bit more into the snow, mind clearer now. Soap moved even closer, now quite literally on top of you, trying not to crush you with his weight but also keeping you nice and warm. After a moment of shifting around and adjusting, you got quite comfortable.

“Thanks, Johnny.”

You mumbled, already seeing the stupid grin he’d be wearing because of the praise.

“Anytime, bonnie.”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick ☁️

- Serial cuddle enjoyer.

- Usually the one to fall asleep first because he’s more relaxed around his team. Has fallen asleep on Ghost’s shoulder before and been promptly pushed off.

- Prefers cuddling in bed over anywhere else, will slip into your bed in the middle of the night if he felt lonely or somehow has a sixth sense for you getting nightmares.

- Likes cuddling in a pretzel sort of position, or face-to-face despite the fact that he buries his head in your neck every time.

Rousing from his sleep for god knows why, Kyle rubbed his eyes, slipping from the warm bed he slept in and padding over to the kitchen to grab a drink of water. His throat was dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper. Probably the consequences of not drinking enough water while on mission, but he was in his little flat and off duty for now, so it wasn’t like it mattered much anyway.

Drinking nearly an entire glass, he heard a small thug, and his sluggish brain snapped awake as instinct kicked in, he put the glass down, approaching your room where he’d heard the sound come from slowly. Your door was already open.

He peeked inside, abruptly opening it to avoid the awful tension of the slow creaks it would’ve made had he dragged it out, only to be met with the sight of you, his roommate, curled up on the floor and sniffling.

His eyes softened and he crouched down next to you, hands moving to brush the hair out of your face as he caught sight of your watery eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

He asked, nearly a whisper for fear of making you jump. You sniffled again, and tried to get to your feet, only to stumble and be caught by Kyle again before being sat on the edge of the bed by him.

“Had a nightmare.”

You answered in a meek tone, seeming a bit embarrassed, which then was overridden by surprise when Kyle sat on the edge of the bed next to you, calloused hands gently shifting your body around until he was lying right next to you, his dark brown eyes gazing into yours.

“I have them too,”

He admitted, watching as you carefully slipped a hand around him, moving closer as he pulled the blanket over both of your bodies. He relaxed, tense muscles going nearly limp as his head leaned into your shoulder, his breathing deepening out as both of your eyelids grew heavy, eventually shutting as you drifted off into a peaceful rest.

John Price 🏷️

- Is just a big bear of a man. Loves cuddling with his missus when he gets home from a mission.

- Prefers spooning, but when his joints get achy and sore he’ll just lay on his back and let you lay on top of him.

- Is a human furnace just like Soap, so you probably won’t be needing a blanket.

- He usually waits until you’re asleep to fall asleep, but on the really rough nights, he’s out in a few seconds flat.

- Enjoys having your hands in his hair.

- Definitely an experienced cuddler.

Just as you finished your shower, you heard the front door unlocking and opening, and not caring much about getting proper clothes on, you rushed over and pulled a very-tired-looking John into a hug.

He chuckled, hand giving you a few little pats on the head as he pulled you in, taking a deep whiff of the smell of your body wash and shampoo, before slowly releasing.

“Missed me, huh? Missed you too, bird.”

He mumbled as you refused to let go, only releasing when he gave you a light little pinch on the arm, leaving you to finish getting ready after your shower as he trudged off to change and probably at least get a comb through his hair.

With a small smile now on your face, you hurried through your skin and haircare routines faster than ever before, throwing on some underwear and pajamas. As you walked into your shared bedroom, you found John struggling to get a knot out of his brown hair.

“Let me,”

You said, gently taking the comb from his large fingers, brushing the ends of the knot out first, working down to the center of it when you finally got it out. He took the comb and placed it down on his little desk with a little “Thanks, darlin’”, then took your hand and led you over to the bed.

He crawled in first, groaning when his body was finally able to sink into the soft mattress of the bed, body aching after weeks of being gone as he laid on his back, you being quick to crawl above him, head laying against his chest.

He loosed a deep sigh, pulling the blankets over both of you despite the warmth already being shared between you two.

“M’ glad to be home.”

He muttered, pulling you closer, arms settling around you as he already began drifting off.

Smiling, you replied.

“Me too.”

Gary “Roach” Sanderson 🪳

- I definitely hc him as nonverbal (like he is in the games, for whatever reason, you can decide why) but that doesn’t mean he’s any worse at cuddling.

- Roach is a little bit of a wild sleeper, so expect a few nudges and maybe some flips from him during the night.

- Enjoys the sweetheart position the most, just because it lets him hear your heartbeat.

- Serial nuzzle enjoyer. Will nuzzle into you at any moment he can, it’s just something he really likes doing.

- Douses his pillowcases with a lethal amount of your signature perfume or what reminds him of you (has an entire candle of it, too.)

- Can be very clingy.

When you got back home from the little girl’s night you’d had, finding Gary wrapped around one of your pillows and holding it with a death grip, your favorite perfume on the bedside table and a lit candle to match in the same scent wasn’t something you’d been expecting.

As soon as you walked into the room, he glanced up, beckoning you closer almost frantically. With a small smile, you held up a finger, signaling to wait for just one moment. You slipped out of the dress you’d been donning, and pulled off the shoes as well, the heels having made your feet ache anyways.

You used some basic wipes to get any makeup off, deciding that the more complicated cleansing process would be left for the morning, and promptly pulled some pajamas on, finally walking over to the bed, and being pulled in.

Within seconds, you were under the covers, and softly laughing at how he hooked one arm around the back of your neck, pulling you gently into where your head was against his chest, and intertwining his legs with yours. The scruff of his slightly unshaven face scratched lightly against you as he rubbed and nuzzled into you unashamedly, peppering a few little kisses on you while he was at it.

“Clingy,”

You murmured teasingly, and he frowned for a moment, raising a brow as if to call you a hypocrite, and you hummed lightly for a moment in thought.

“Touché.”

You said to his silent response, pressing a light kiss to the tip of his nose, before finally settling in and getting comfortable against his body. Within a few minutes, the both of you were yawning, sleep pulling both of you slowly under as the rhythm of your breathing deepened.

[changetyre]

Hope you're doing well, I didn't know your request was open!!

I'm not going to beat around the bush but could you write something like reader tease Oscar P in the shower and he fucks her from behind in front of the mirror??

If you're not comfortable with it, just ignore this request :)

It's so wrong but it feels so right II Oscar Piastri ⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: Oscar tried everything in his power to stay away from his teammate's younger sister despite her constant attempts at getting him to break...key word being tried.

WARNINGS: *18+* Not proofread

A/N: Yay another request and also the first Oscar fic here ;) Enjoy xx

"Yep." Your brother spoke on the phone. He was distracted enough that you knew you could have fun with the guy in front of you.

When Daniel had left the team last year you felt incredibly sad having grown close to the older man who treated you like a younger sister.

When Oscar arrived you saw the way your brother and him didn't truly connect at first like Daniel and him had done but little by little he started opening up.

And you kind of loved the shy and laid-back personality Oscar had so much that it attracted you in a way nothing and no one had ever done before.

The first time you'd tried to make an advance on Oscar he'd completely thought it was you just being overly friendly because you had drunk too much being that it was at a party.

But Oscar truly underestimated you when the following weeks you'd gone far and beyond to get his attention.

It wasn't that Oscar didn't find you attractive, it was the fact that you were his teammate's younger sister. Damn if you had any other last name he sure as hell would've responded to your advances ages ago but he couldn't do this to Lando.

Despite this, you still tried and you weren't going to give up. Oscar flinched, his knee hitting the table as he felt your foot slide from his ankle up to his thigh.

Lando turned to look at him weirdly but Oscar shrugged him off and Lando went back to focus on the call he'd gotten.

Oscar grabbed your heeled foot stopping it just as it approached his crotch. "y/n." He said your name in a warning tone which honestly only spurred you on.

"Ozzie..." you said his name teasingly in the same volume, your bottom lip between your teeth as you leaned forward on the table revealing a little bit more of your cleavage to him.

You saw the way Oscar's breath hitched, his eyes dropping between your breasts as his other hand caressed your leg, letting himself get pulled in by you.

"Okay, I'll be there in 20." Lando hung up snapping Oscar out of his trance.

"What's up?" You innocently asked as if you weren't just trying to get Oscar flustered.

"Something changed with the car settings and we need to go over the race strat again before tomorrow. I have to go." Lando gathered his things. "Oscar, do you mind driving y/n back to the hotel?" Lando asked.

"Uh, sure." Oscar hesitantly replied watching the way your mischievous smile grew.

"Alright, see you later." Lando hugged you not noticing the way you slipped your hotel room key into his back pocket before he went on to say a quick goodbye to Oscar.

Trying to keep control of the situation Oscar quickly asked for the bill after Lando left. He could hear the way you giggled thinking his nervous behavior was hilarious.

"Okay let's go," Oscar said as soon as he'd gotten his receipt.

You got up and quickly linked your arm around Oscar's as he led you both out of the restaurant.

You'd spent the car ride to the hotel making light conversation, Oscar obviously not missing your flirty remarks and the way you tried to bring your hand to Oscar's thigh repeatedly.

In the end, he was only able to stop you by taking your hand in his which you were very much pleased with as you thought he looked sexy driving with one hand while keeping a hold of you with the other.

Finally arriving at the hotel Oscar was more than relieved that this interaction was finally over since he could tell he was starting to lose control, his body felt incredibly hot with how touchy you'd been tonight and he'd constantly just had to remind himself you were his teammate's younger sister.

He led you to the door of your room which was right next to your brothers and consequently a few doors down from Oscar's own room.

"Oh." You faked surprise. "Hmm, I think Lando kept my room key." You commented.

"What?" Oscar panicked. "Are you sure have you checked your pockets?" He had no idea when Lando would get back and he knew he couldn't leave you out here waiting, with his panic he failed to notice the smirk on your lips.

"I don't have pockets Ozzie." you laughed twirling around for him to see your tight-fitting dress which lacked pockets.

Oscar cleared his throat nervously. "Right, uhm." He looked around as if he'd found the solution to his problem floating around somewhere in the hallway.

"Maybe I could just wait in your room?" You innocently suggested but Oscar knew damn well you were anything but innocent.

"Uh yeah." Oscar reluctantly agreed knowing there was truly no other option right now, but he also knew damn well Lando would be getting back to the hotel late...very late.

Walking into his room Oscar tried his best to keep a distance from you. "I'm gonna shower and uhm...you can sit somewhere," he told you as he moved around the room pointlessly trying to look busy.

"Okay, Ozzie." You chirped.

Oscar's head was running wild in the shower. He let the cold water run down his body hoping it would help the situation between his legs that he knew he couldn't walk out of the bathroom with.

But it was useless. Oscar felt like he'd been standing under the cold water for ages and his dick was still as hard as a rock, painful.

"You okay in there Ozzie?" He jumped at hearing your voice. He could see your outline through the frosted glass of the shower.

"What are you doing here?" He asked nervously.

"You were taking a while and my face feels gross so I wanted to wash it out...also my dress was getting uncomfortable." You replied nonchalantly.

The insinuation of this only made Oscar's member ache more. "What-What do you mean?" Oscar shut off the shower.

"Do you have a shirt I can borrow Ozzie?" You moved to the door of the shower.

Oscar's first mistake was turning off the shower, and the second was opening the door to peek outside. He caught sight of your almost naked figure now covered only by a black lace lingerie set that broke Oscar right then and there.

"Fuck you're impossible," Oscar muttered as he lost all self-control rushing out of the shower and immediately wrapping a hand around your throat bringing your face forward and capturing your lips into a sloppy, desperate, and rushed kiss.

"F*ck me Ozzie." You moaned at feeling his large dick slap against the inside of your thigh.

"Is that what you want...Is this what you've been waiting for you little slut." He whispered into your ear as his hand moved down to the lace between your legs running a finger across and noticing how wet you were.

"Yeah...yes Ozzie." Your breath shuttered feeling your body overwhelmed in pleasure at finally having Oscar the way you've wanted him for so long.

"Well, good job...you finally did it." Oscar stuck a finger in you without previous warning making you yelp in pleasure as he began thrusting it in and out of you.

He did this in an attempt to prepare you for him but after feeling the way you dripped down on his fingers he knew you were more than ready.

"Turn around." He turned you around manhandling you and lifted your legs up onto the bathroom counter so you were squatting on your knees, your ass just hanging off the edge wide open for him.

You could see Oscar in the mirror in front of you as he slapped your hole with his dick sliding it up and down your slit a few times to tease you.

"How the tables have turned." Oscar laughed as he felt you rub back against him trying to get him to slide into you.

"Please Ozzie, Please." You cried begging for him to do something already.

"what do you want hmm?" He teased as he pushed the tip in slightly before taking it back out.

"Please just put it in me already, I beg you." You whined to Oscar meeting his gaze through the mirror. "Just this once please." You were so desperate and Oscar loved to have regained control now.

He laughed but he was also desperate to get inside you so without further teasing he thrusted his full length into you. He felt your body trying to jump up at the sudden stretch but he held your hips down so you were unable to move as he began slowly thrusting in and out of you.

"Just this once." Oscar scoffed. "You're insane if you think this is the last time baby," Oscar spoke confidently as he kept slamming into you.

"Ah...fuck...so good." You cried, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you could feel that knot tightening in your stomach.

Oscar undid your bra with one of his hands while his other kept a tight hold of your waist making sure his pace was maintained. He almost came at the sight in the mirror.

Your nipples were pierced.

"Fuck you are a little slut aren't you," Oscar commented as he began playing with the metal on your buds.

This only increased the satisfaction in you. "Ah fuck Ozzie don't stop." You cried.

"Look at me." Oscar panted. "Look at me when you cum." He demanded grabbing your face to look into the mirror.

"Sh*t I'm close." You moaned as you felt your legs start to tremble.

Oscar sped up his pace wanting to join you in your release. "Cum, cum with me."

"Ah cum inside me, please." You cried and that was enough for Oscar to let go. He felt you squeeze around him as he began pumping you full your legs shivering as your orgasm washed over you.

Oscar stayed inside you as you both caught your breaths, you leaned back into Oscar's chest as he caressed your skin gently.

"Fuck that was-" Oscar was about to speak when you were both interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

"Oscar you in there?" You could hear your brother's voice.

You saw the way the color drained from Oscar's face.

"You better come up with something fast Ozzie, wouldn't want him finding out you just spilled inside his sister would you." You giggled.

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Happy Little Accident

Pairing: So'lek/Avatar!Fem!Reader

Summary Here

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, (alien) pregnancy trope, only mentioned smut but strongly detailed, mentioned p in v (wrap it you skxawngs), one-night stand, swearing, hinted unwanted pregnancy, mention of labor, at least one use of Y/n, proofread by me, time jumps, etc.

Word Count: 6k+

Request By: @inolaphoenix

Taglist: @taronyuhunter @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @mooniequeen @avatar-lover

~~~~~~~~~

The moment Priya gave you the blood work on your avatar, you knew you were in deep shit with Alma.

Obviously, humans make mistakes all the time. These things happen. But you didn't have much of an excuse because you were in your avatar form when it happened, and normally, you hate it when people blame alcohol for their mistakes. In your mind, that's not an excuse. You would be a hypocrite if you did the same when Alma finds out your avatar is pregnant.

It was undeniably strange to be pregnant in one body and... empty in the other. After Priya gave you your results, you stayed out of the link bay for a week, too weirded out by the idea. That whole time you remained in your human body, you tried your best to figure out what to do and who to tell.

You should tell So'lek... right? After all, he played his part in this as well. A part of you felt guilty. He rarely smiles let alone 'lets loose', and the one time he decided to indulge in a few drinks and celebrate against the Sky People, you both end up outside of HQ toward the edge of the forest, fucking like rabbits in a frenzied heat which now led to this. 

Not like you regret that night, despite everything. You've had one-night stands in the past (how else are humans going to pass the time on a moon that wants to kill them?) but that night with So'lek was easily the best. It wasn't hateful, but it was definitely rough and desperate. It felt like you were both so into it, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends, unable to keep each other's hands off of your bodies. You felt as though he was mapping every inch of your skin, but no matter how much he tasted you, it was never enough for him.

But by morning, he was gone, and you felt stupid to believe a drunken night would change anything. He was So'lek after all, the lone Na'vi, driven to avenge his butchered clan. He hated humans and had very little empathy for avatars, always saying the word 'dreamwalker' with distaste.  He treats you much like how he treats Alma or Priya. With indifference. You should've known a few drinks and a good fucking wouldn't change a lifetime of hate. Neither would a baby.

The word alone made you hold your breath, out of fear or excitement, you weren't sure. You never thought you'd be a mother, especially on Pandora where the odds weren't exactly in your favor. Up until this point, you had only referred to your situation as a 'pregnancy' and hadn't even used 'child' or 'baby'. Until now, as you finally came to terms with the uncertainty that lay ahead in your future. 

One thing was certain: You couldn't tell So'lek.

If he didn't care for humans or humans that look like Na'vi, you knew it wasn't possible for him to care for a hybrid of the two. You've experienced firsthand what the Na'vi think of you and Alma's avatars... and you've seen firsthand what the Na'vi think of children from said avatars. You didn't want that for your child, even if it meant shielding them from their father.

You knew you needed to plan, but first, you needed some trusted help. Priya gave you your blood work results, but thankfully, she didn't read them because if she did, all of Resistance HQ would know about your pregnancy before you could even wrap your head around the idea of it.

Alma would likely lecture you on contraceptives like you were a child despite the fact you were closer to her age compared to the Sarentu students she taught, so for the time being, you would keep her in the dark. The Sarentu, however...

You have grown fond of the young group of Na'vi since they first joined the Resistance. Alma used to tell you stories about the children she taught back at TAP. Fun stories, embarrassing stories, all of which made you smile or laugh. When you first met the Sarentu after they were rescued, you immediately welcomed them with open arms into the Resistance, and they have grown quite attached to you... well, other than Nor. He looked at you the same way he looked at Alma, the same way So'lek looked at all dreamwalkers.

You decide to confide in Ri'nela and Teylan about your pregnancy and make them promise not to tell Nor, knowing he'd likely tell So'lek. Both were excited for you and willing to help in any way they could. The three of you come up with a system to prepare for the day your avatar would begin to show your pregnancy, but until then, you must plan for your new arrival.

~~~~~~~~~

The regret and disgust he felt after fucking a dreamwalker has kept him away from HQ more than usual-- and that's saying something.

It wasn't as though So'lek was disgusted by you, but mostly himself. He thought he was better than that, stronger than primal desires that come out during a moment of weakness and the influence of alcohol. He should've known that his life of solitude would eventually get the better of him because not even his hand would be able to quench that need to have a warm, wet pussy wrapped tightly around his cock. He saw a chance to have that again, if only for a moment, and the alcohol helped him gladly take that leap. Your own hand was enough to rile him up when you held onto the back of his neck for dear life as he had you pinned against a tree. Maybe you hadn't realized it in the moment of primal desire, but your fingers were absently tracing the base of his kuru and the memory of your touch was enough to make him light-headed.

It wasn't healthy for him to be living out in the wild alone if this is how he reacts to one simple touch, so desperate for that connection with anyone... including a dreamwalker. He was disgusted, but again, mostly with himself, feeling as though he took advantage of you and the moment, ready to do anything to have your tight pussy hugging him and keeping him warm and needy.

He always considered intimacy to be an activity only meant for two individuals who were either mates or people who had a deep connection with one another. He didn't have either of those things with you. At least... that's what he kept telling himself after that fateful night, the night he slipped away once your exhaustion took over and you couldn't keep your eyes open a second longer. He had been internally punishing himself every day since then.

You come from a species that murdered his entire clan. That thought alone made him feel guilt and shame in his gut for ravaging you, his usual need for revenge pushed back in his mind and replaced with the need to fuck your pretty pussy. The fact that you managed to distract him from his lifelong goal if only for a moment, angered him. The fact that a sky demon had this effect on him had him reeling down his tunnel of shame.

Then again, he knew you were not solely responsible for the death of his clan. He had to continuously remind himself that you were his ally and not someone like Mercer or Harding. You had an avatar like Alma, but in So'lek's opinion, you have done far more good than Cortez has. You actively prove yourself, time and time again. When the Sarentu returned, you immediately went out of your way to make sure the younger Na'vi felt comfortable and welcomed in their new home. So'lek had watched you during these moments, wondering if you had originally been there when his clan was butchered, would you have treated him the same? You're always kind and patient, especially against his scrutiny. He doesn't know why you thought he deserved your kindness, but maybe that's why he thought he could be vulnerable toward you.

If he deserved it back then, he definitely didn't deserve it now after immediately leaving you high and dry that fateful night like you were just a cum dump. You weren't, and even he thought you deserved better, dreamwalker or not. Despite how he felt what you did or didn't deserve, So'lek had been avoiding you like the plague. Little did he know you were doing the same.

Even when he did see you, which was rarer than ever, it was only when Alma forced the pair of you in close proximity, and you were always in your human body, never in your avatar. If your eyes ever met, you always ducked your head when he glanced at you or hid your face behind a breathing mask. So'lek could only imagine how you felt after that one night. He imagined you were as equally ashamed, judging by the fact you rarely looked him in the eyes, and also because you don't ever use your avatar body around him. He wasn't blind. He knows that was likely the reason. So'lek imagined that you probably didn't feel comfortable being a dreamwalker around him anymore, even more so than before when he used to verbally mention his distaste for them.

~~~~~~~~~

You're definitely showing.

Teylan had given you his old TAP shirt to wear (the logo covered with a badge Priya made for him stitched over it) but even then you felt like everyone was staring at your middle. Maybe it was just your paranoid pregnancy brain, but you were pretty sure you weren't imagining the way Alex's eyes drifted down to your stomach when you stood your avatar to full height before he quickly glanced away. After that, you wore your bulletproof vest over your middle.

It also didn't help that you've started to 'nest', which essentially just came down to you and Ri'nela practicing your newly earned weaving techniques to try and fashion a bunch of Na'vi child-sized items. Whatever she learns from the Aranahe, she brings back for the both of you to practice and learn the new skill, and while at first, it seemed hopeless, eventually you fashioned a cute, tiny loincloth that actually made you tear up at the sight of it in your large hands.

You know you'll eventually have to tell the rest of the Resistance, but you, Ri'nela, and Teylan have made plans that last at least until the end of your second trimester. Maybe if you slowly introduce everyone to the idea of a Na'vi baby being around, maybe the blow wouldn't be so hard when you eventually share the news. Or, and this may be the paranoia part of your brain, maybe you could just move your avatar far away from here, either to live alone or live with whatever tribe would accept you until the baby is born. 

Either way, you're running out of time. 

~~~~~~~~~

"Are you with child?"

Ri'nela looks up from her datapad, her confusion met with a stern, possibly overprotective So'lek as he stares the young Sarentu female down with a questioning gaze. Ri'nela's blood froze when she suspected why exactly he might be asking her, but she played it off to the best of her ability, "What? No?"

"Then what is this?" Her heart plummets when So'lek raises a small item in his hand. It was tinier than even his palm, a little beaded top meant for a Na'vi baby. So'lek's tone remained accusatory, interrogating one of the young adult Sarentu he feels responsible for, "I saw you weaving it earlier."

Her lie rolls easily off her tongue, "It is just practice. I make smaller versions of things that I want for myself. Once I get the technique down right, I'll make a bigger one that will fit me."

So'lek's eyes narrow further with suspicion, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"There's a scent on this one."

Again, Ri'nela's blood grows cold, but she uses nearly every muscle in her face to keep her expression neutral. Whatever expression she projects, So'lek doesn't read anything off of it as he continues, "It is faint but I recognize it. It is the scent of a pregnant Na'vi."

"It is not mine."

"Then whose..."

Ri'nela's tail is the thing that betrays her, flicking irritably from side to side behind her. It is also the thing that attracts Teylan to her side, the male Sarentu bounding over to Ri'nela and So'lek without care or notice of the tension between them. So'lek's eyes dance between the two younger Na'vi, still suspecting the small item in his hand. If it didn't belong to Ri'nela, then it must belong to another female Na'vi, but barely any come around the Resistance HQ and he highly doubted any of them would leave their future child's clothes behind. However, even if there weren't any female Na'vi around, there were still female dreamwalkers.

Alma was definitely not pregnant. So'lek had just seen her that morning and her scent was still the same as it had always been. As for the other female avatar, So'lek doesn't dare try to think about the last time he saw you-- 

... Ri'nela watches as realization dawns on So'lek's face, a brief moment of horror before it's quickly replaced with stern determination.

"Where is Y/n?"

"She's out." Ri'nela quickly answers.

However, she should've said something more when she noticed Teylan's ears and tail perk up with interest out of the corner of her eye, just as he spoke up, "Yes. She said she was going to the Kinglor Forest to collect samples!"

"Teylan," she hissed quietly, immediately regretting it when Teylan flinched and stared at her with almost comical wide eyes. She sighed and immediately apologized under her breath, her hand soothing his shoulder whilst she hesitantly stared up at So'lek.

His eyes continue to narrow down at her as if he was lecturing a child. He could easily tell that Ri'nela was trying to hide your whereabouts from him, and now he needed to see for himself as to why... though he was starting to piece the puzzle together in his head.

"She should not be traveling alone. I will go find her."

Before Ri'nela could even protest, So'lek whips around and leaves the base.

~~~~~~~~~

If you thought your first trimester was rough, you clearly weren't prepared for your second.

Your belly finally beginning to grow past your shirts and barely hidden in your loosened vests, you have begun to journey out of HQ on your own to not raise suspicion. During these times away, you've indulged yourself in hiding under your clothes less and today was no different, setting your vest and shirt down on a nearby rock while you wad into the shallow water of the river you found, wearing only your avatar-size bra and safari shorts. You bend down into the water to take a few vial-sized samples to bring back to the lab for Alex, but you've lately had to bend your body differently than normal with your rounded stomach now starting to get in the way of your usual activities. You straighten back up with a loud sigh, stretching your back and absently rubbing your belly before taking your hand away again to stopper the vial.

Had you been born and raised as Na'vi, you would've noticed you were being watched immediately, a thought that came to So'lek's mind as he discovered you on the river bank. He remained hidden for the time being, quietly observing as you cheerfully hum to yourself to pass the time during your research. His yellow eyes widen at the sight of you, visibly glowing while your changed scent wafts in his nose, answering all his previous questions. Now the sudden disappearance of your avatar from his presence finally made sense to him, eyes lowering down your body until they landed on your newest, most prominent feature.

You finally notice something wrong with your surroundings, your ears picking up something you didn't initially hear, and a different scent suddenly fills your nose. Looking around you happen to look over in his direction as you gasp out of terror, dropping your vials into the river, hands coming up to hold your heart before you realize who it was and you force your heartbeat to relax. For a moment, you're calm, before you finally remember why you feel so exposed as his eyes zeroed in on your belly, "Oh, shit, So'lek--"

"How long have you known?" He demands outright, stepping out into the open, just along the riverbank. 

You pause, ears folding back against your skull as alarms go off in your head, unable to recall all the lies and excuses you had practically rehearsed in the mirror for weeks on end. You find yourself muttering the truth, "... I found out three weeks after... you know, after you and I--"

"That was MONTHS ago," he unexpectedly snarled, narrowed eyes flicking up to yours, "And when exactly were you going to tell me about this?"

The hostility toward you brings out your defensive side as your eyes squint at him, "I didn't think you'd want to know."

"In what world would I not want to know about something like this? Why would you keep something as serious as this from me?"

"Last I checked, you wanted nothing to do with me," you snarled back, recalling the morning she woke up and he wasn't there, "What else was I supposed to think?"

"You could have at least told me I was going to be a father from the beginning!"

"And how do you think I feel?!" You screeched, clenching your hands into tight fists as you gritted your teeth, "I'll have to give birth in a body I wasn't even born in! I'll have to raise a child that's technically not even the same species as me! And let's not forget that my baby daddy hates the very sight of me!"

He wasn't familiar with the human term 'baby daddy' but by the tone of your voice, it wasn't meant to be a good term. While you made very good points, his head was now less angry and more reeling over the fact that you were pregnant with his child. The shock was finally settling in and while a part of him says he should be... pleased, the other part of him felt estranged by the whole ordeal. Growing up, he had always been taught the joy of becoming a parent, but after losing the majority of his clan, he felt as though that future was already dead and gone. But now you stood before him, and so much conflict was welling up inside him. You weren't his mate, and one could argue you weren't even the same species as him, but one night of mistakes led to a child that So'lek wasn't sure would be welcomed in this world of Eywa.

While he sounded less angry when he next spoke, it didn't hide the disappointment in his voice, "That does not explain why you chose to keep a child of mine a secret from me--"

"--Because I knew this is exactly how you'd react!" You snap, "What would you do in my situation?"

He remained quiet because he wasn't foolish enough to try and lie to you. He honestly wouldn't know what to do if he was in your place. His silence was all the answer you needed, as you slowly started to relax your posture and give into an emotion that looked a lot like defeat, 

"Listen, I get that you don't like me. I'm fairly certain you actually hate me, which is why I kept this from you. I didn't want my child growing up thinking their father hated their mother."

The words make his ears twitch but he otherwise didn't say a word, allowing you to continue. Your voice comes out distasteful, a tone that comes out every time you speak of your home planet, "Believe it or not, that's very common back home and I didn't want that for any child of mine... human OR Na'vi.

"And... and I know you've never met Jake Sully or his family, but I have. Before he left the Resistance to me and Alma, I got to know his kids. One of his sons and his adopted daughter were born with avatar traits. Brows, fingers... Lo'ak and Kiri were on my mind when I found out I was pregnant. I've seen firsthand how they're treated by other Na'vi. I've seen how Lo'ak treats himself, and... and I didn't want that for my child, especially if they end up looking like me. I didn't want them to grow up believing they were some sort of monster or demon."

Your look of defeat turns sour while pointedly glaring over at So'lek, "And YOUR presence wouldn't help that."

The silence is deafening, or more specifically his silence. You notice how the river and the forest around you felt alive with noise and beauty, yet So'lek stood among all of it like a ghost, silent as the grave. The only indication that he was still alive was the tail behind him, twitching to indicate he was contemplating.

Confliction was still at war in his head. This was still a child you were talking about. His child, and yet you felt the need to hide it from him. And yet, instead of anger, he felt guilt and shame because he knew you had every right to do so. It was his fault. He had made his distaste for your kind known, and many times it was even said to your face. You had every reason to believe he would care very little for a child made by both him and you. So'lek was ashamed of himself because you felt the need to shield your child from him, a child that wasn't even born yet. You made valid points that not even he could argue with. This child may be born with Na'vi in its veins, but vrrtep blood would also be added to the mix. So'lek would be lying to himself and his child if he went around hating all humans and avatars and yet loved a baby made by both him and a dreamwalker regardless. 

The fact that he still wanted to love the child regardless came to mind, and he honestly surprised himself with this revelation. Perhaps that was why he was so angry before. Because you were hiding a child he could love. Despite everything, this was still So'lek's child and a deep and secret part of himself was glad that out of everyone he had ever known, you were the child's mother. If Eywa had to pick anyone to carry his child, So'lek was relieved she picked you because despite you're differences, he trusts you more than any human alive.

It was selfish of him to think after everything he's said and done, but a deep part of him wanted this child to be born looking like you, or, technically your avatar. He would be lying if he said he wasn't curious, and he looks at your eyebrows and extra fingers now with curiosity, not hatred. Because that's what it really comes down to. You think that So'lek would hate a child who has human traits, but that is far from the case. So'lek didn't care about what the Sky People and dreamwalkers looked like. He never has and never will.

He doesn't judge what people look like on the outside, but he judges them for whatever is held within. How could he hate an innocent child who would clearly grow up only knowing the best parts of both their father and mother? You were clearly a kindhearted tawtute. There is nothing but good inside you, and that was the only thing So'lek had cared about in others. It was easy for him to hate all Sky People because up until the Resistance, he thought all Sky People were terrible and cruel, the sole reason his clan was gone.

And now... his clan could be restored again. Probably not to the state it was before, but it was a hopeful and bright future for So'lek and his child. He thought he would die alone and with everything his clan had taught him, but now... he could pass on that knowledge and teach his child everything he knows. However, one quick look at your expression and he could tell that you would need a whole lot of convincing. 

"You are right."

Your brows furrow with confusion, "Say that again?"

"Had you told me sooner, I likely would not have reacted well."

Your tone drops into sarcasm, "Oh, and this was you reacting well?"

"Worse," he corrected himself with a small roll of his eyes, "I would have reacted worse than I did now."

"Right."

He sighs heavily, "I do not think I can pretend and be comfortable about... everything that has happened between us, but I want to try."

"To try what?"

"To try whatever it is you want to do," the small look of confusion on your face only makes me further elaborate, "You have a choice, 'eylanay. And whatever choice you make, whether I agree with it or not... I will try and respect it."

You're still trying to wrap your head around the fact that So'lek has yet to pull you into a full-blown screaming match, so your reactions were admittedly slow, "What choice are you talking about exactly?"

"Whether or not you will allow me to be a part of the child's life."

He watches your eyes widen in shock, "You... want to be?"

"Yes, I do," the Na'vi male nods firmly and confidently, "I understand why you would be hesitant, but I promise that if you give me the chance, I will be a part of this child's life every step of the way. You see... to me, it does not matter what flows through one's veins. I have never, not once, judged your appearance because that is not what matters to me."

You pause and think back to all the time you've known So'lek, and he was right. He never talked badly about what humans looked like. He never even outright talks about you or Alma's appearance as avatars. The only thing he outright disapproved of was you trying to pretend to be something you're clearly not.

When you don't argue with his statement, So'lek continues, "Any child born from us will never be judged for their appearance or who they were born from, I swear it. The only thing that matters is their heart and soul, and I know, with you as their mother, this child will have a good and kind heart and soul, and will never know the deep hatred and greed of the people you were born to."

His words honestly drove you to stunned silence, unsure how to respond. You were speechless, opening and closing your mouth to form a reply, but you were too surprised to speak. You had so many questions, other things that the two of you would have to worry about down the road, like what does this mean for the two of you and if you were going to need some form of co-parenting dynamic. You decide not to bring this up right away, as you've been thrown for a loop once already today.

Slowly, you finally just decide to nod and see how this goes, awkwardly answering, "Okay."

His gaze was cautious, but even from where you stood, you could've sworn you saw a flash of hope in his eyes, his tail betraying him as it swayed behind him, "Is it?"

"Yeah," you start to grow nervous under his careful eye, looking around so you can find something to do, "Yeah, um... Let-- Let me just retrieve my vials and then we can head back to HQ to talk more."

You go to bend down to find the stoppered vials you had dropped into the shallow water of the river, but you don't get very far before So'lek steps into the river as well and crouches down before you, his hands already underneath the surface and leisurely searching for the vials in question. You stand back up to your full height and just watch, curious despite the warmth you feel growing up your neck.

The water makes the sound of a surfaced splash as So'lek's hands rise out of the water with the vials in hand, standing up to his own full height, which easily towered over your avatar's. You hadn't realized how close he had been until he was handing the vials to you, and immediately you look away and clear your throat.

"Thank you. So... how did you find out?"

He briefly frowned before comprehending what you were trying to ask and reached into his pouch. He lifts his hand and you recognize the beaded top Ri'nela promised to finish for you when you no longer had the time to do so.

He looks at the item with you, "I thought it was Ri'nela's."

A surprised snort of disbelief escapes you, the nerves now bleeding into amusement, "Ri'nela?? Seriously?"

His ears twitch irritably, but it doesn't intimidate you. Not this time. "Yes."

You smirk, "Believe me, big guy. If Ri'nela was pregnant, I would've killed the one responsible ages ago."

Unexpectedly, your chest floods with warmth as So'lek makes a deep, reverberating sound and it takes you a moment to realize it was a laugh. The laugh was short yet sweet, and when So'lek recovered, there was still a small but clearly visible smile. 

He takes a brief moment to think before he holds out a hand, making it clear about his intent, "May I?" 

You look at his hand then look back up at him, nodding before moving your arms to your sides so that So'lek has full reign of your belly, but he doesn't take advantage of it. If anything, he almost looks hesitant, internally stunned that you gave him permission. He slowly places his hand over your pregnant stomach, and you are quickly reminded of how large his hands are. 

Neither of you say a word, just standing in the shallow part of the river, the water up to your ankles as you both stare down at So'lek's hand, placed gently over your round belly. You know So'lek must have felt something because his tail curled to alertness behind him, and his mouth slowly formed a brief, fond smile, which undoubtedly made your heart squeeze.

As you watch him technically interact with your unborn child for the first time, you start to feel incredibly grateful for how your situation turned out. You haven't known Eywa and her beauty for very long, so you're not sure if she deliberately picked So'lek for this to happen with you, but all the same, you were glad it was him out of everyone you know. You didn't know the sentiment was mutual.

"So'lek?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~

MONTHS LATER... 

One look at So'lek and you knew that twins weren't common among Na'vi. He had to have someone explain to him the amount of babies human females can bear, and his expression of horror honestly made you laugh more than anything, despite how exhausted and overwhelmed you were. While you didn't give birth in your human body, your avatar still contained remnants of human DNA, and back on Earth, your family had a history of twins, so in conclusion, you shouldn't have been all that surprised. Still, you didn't think that would transfer over to your false Na'vi body.

You didn't blame So'lek for being horrified. You were just as equally scared. You thought the two of you might be able to handle keeping one child safe during a war, but two? As you and So'lek looked at each other, you didn't have to say a word to know what the other was thinking. After all, it came with the territory of being mates. You tend to always know what is going on in each other's head. 

You never thought So'lek might actually care for you more than just as the mother to his child, but over the last months throughout your pregnancy, he made it perfectly clear that he wouldn't have shown interest the night you two ended up fucking against a tree if he didn't already care for you. His feelings were complicated, yes, but due to a lifetime of death and revenge, no one could really blame him. He was honest with you one night when you finally asked him where you two stood in all of this and what it would mean to raise a child together.

He was honest when he said he wasn't going to mention it because he thought you regretted it. And in a way, he did regret your one-night stand, but for a completely different reason. He admitted that he thought you deserved someone better, someone, who didn't initially spit in your face when you both met because he thought you might be just like all the other Sky People. Pregnancy aside, he confessed how much he had grown to care for you, but he knew it all initially started way before you two had your night of fun during that one fateful celebration. He knew he cared for you even before that, he just couldn't admit it to himself before he got drunk and had his way with you.

Once boundaries were made and feelings were shared, So'lek brought you to a special place, the Tree of Souls. The two of you, no longer influenced by alcohol or conflicted emotions, bonded and mated before Eywa. You blamed your pregnancy for how emotionally intimate it felt for you, all your hormones going through the roof, and it only spurred So'lek on since he could feel it all through tsaheylu. Unlike your one-night stand, this was slow and passionate, and it likely would've gone all night long...

That is, until your water broke. But hey, things happen.

Despite all the confusion, doubt, and fear fighting in your mind about the war and how you'll have to protect your children, you took one look down at your twin sons and all those thoughts went away. You never thought you'd be a boy mom, let alone a boy mom to twins.

Once So'lek's initial shock wears off, he's immediately tending to you and your sons. Sons. He still can't wrap his head around it. This was far more than he thought he deserved, beyond his wildest dreams.

Weeks go by, and now all of Resistance HQ has grown accustomed to your new family dynamic, and many of your friends were over the moon about your boys. To play it safe, you didn't break your link with your avatar until the body fully recovered from labor and the babies no longer needed to be nursed, but you kept yourself entertained with your new family, unable to stop smiling at the sight of your husband and sons. 

To give your new family some privacy, Ri'nela and Teylan took a private room in HQ and formed what they called a "nest corner", which came down to essentially just a bunch of pillows, blankets, soft, warm little lights hanging from the ceiling, and even two hammocks. The two snonivi in question apparently were woven by Nor, but you're not entirely sure, a little put off by the fact that he actually wanted to help.

As So'lek stood up from your little nest of blankets and pillows, one of your sons safely sleeping in his strong arms, you had the sudden urge to tug on your mate's tail.

So'lek whips around and points at you with a finger and a knowing glare, "Behave."

"Or what?" You grinned, your tail flirtaciously swaying behind you and you watched the way So'lek clearly noticed it.

He huffs lightly, shaking his head at your antics, playfully warning you, "Easy, yawntutsyìp."

You bite your lip to refrain from smiling uncontrollably, briefly looking down to check on your other son, also sleeping but in your lap as you sit cross-legged before you speak once more, a playful tone still etched in your voice, "You know... Anufi says that I have about one more week before she thinks I'm fully recovered from labor. So... I'm just saying... pretty sure I'll be going back to my usual mischief again soon."

He shakes his head once more, but he can't exactly hide the way his tail perks up with interest, "Your mischief is what got us two sons in the first place."

"Excuse me?" You scoffed, faking how appalled you felt while placing a hand over your heart as you glared up at him, "You came onto me, big guy!"

"Wrong. If I recall, I came inside you."

Your jaw drops, the room filled with silence other than the tiny, cute noises your sons made as they dreamed. You stared up at So'lek in shock, trying to replay his words in your head that left you baffled and speechless, rapidly blinking your eyes like it would somehow wake you from this dream. Did he actually just say that?

His grin is light and playful, making him look years younger, almost an entirely different man, "No one will ever believe you."

~~~~~~~~~

A/n: Swoon. That's all I gotta say.

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[risuola]

IV — EPIPHANY // Sukuna thought nothing can break him. He's powerful, he has influence and means to always come on top – or at least that's what he thought, because now he realized that he's nohing but weak.

contents: angst, blood, usage of weapon, reader discretion is advised — 2,6k words

a/n: in this part i wanted to give you a little insight into Sukuna's persona. show the menace in him, show the threat and how he is when he's not influenced by weakness that is our precious y/n (aka when he's not confused as hell by what's happening in his heart). i rewrote this part four times before i was finally somewhat satisfied with it.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

You are safe with me.

Sukuna thought about the words with hilarity. The sentence so simple and kind, it felt foreign to realize that his own mouth allowed it out of his system. An odd sort of disdain washed over himself and he found it laughable that throughout his entire career of blood and murder, what made his blood pressure raise up was a lie he told you. A strangely comic amalgamation of letters and syllables that each time he thought of them made him more angry and more amused.

You were safe, technically, or maybe that’s what he wished to believe when he replayed the events of one very unlucky Sunday evening in his memory. It began lovely, too lovely in fact, but he chose to actively ignore the oddity of it – he came to terms with how easily you were able to render his senses useless whenever you came into the field of his view wearing something as pretty as the dress you picked for the date that day. It was in a shade of pink that you deemed similar to the color of his hair, a dusty rose, you called it, and Sukuna wasn’t sure exactly how much truth was that, but he couldn’t care less about it when you looked so drop dead gorgeous. When he watched you walking next to him through the crowded alleys in the park nearby your apartment building, he couldn’t help but notice only you in the mass of people around him. He felt like a teenager in a way, with his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage with pace similar of this after sprinting for long time. You were capable of triggering reactions in his body that he thought were long gone with the days of his youth but he was fine with it. As long as he could witness your beauty, he was fine with everything.

Sukuna laughed gravelly as the sequence of memories played in his mind – the dark sound of his voice causing two police officers outside the bars of his cell to tremble. Oh, how much he hated you and your stupidly breathtaking face for whatever the hell you did to him. If he could, he would tell you what he thinks of it right now and if not careful enough, he might tell you a little too much. Confess maybe. Yeah, he might do that someday. And maybe move out somewhere where you’d truly be safe. Where he wouldn’t feel like a fucking idiot for saying words that are so damn obviously a lie.

Moving out felt like a good idea. In couple of years, when he’s done ruling the criminal forces, he could take you out of Japan, somewhere far away and protect you from any harm. He’d take you somewhere warm, where he could shamelessly admire the way your skin tone looks under the golden rays of sun and the way your eyes shine and glisten like the most expensive and rare gemstones. The thought of you brought a wide smile to his face, as the picture spread in front of his closed eyelids. In the cold of his cell, he could almost feel the burning touch of your fingers tracing the shapes of his body.

* * *

Sixteen days.

It’s been over two weeks since you last saw Sukuna and it was getting harder and harder to go about your days. You missed him. You missed his face, his strong arms that manhandled you around despite your playful taps and tugs. You missed the huskiness of his voice, the low purrs he made in the morning whenever he’d nuzzle his nose against your temple inhaling the scent of your skin that he swore he was addicted to. And above all, you were worried and restless, and scared.

Whenever you closed your eyes, your mind was flooded with memories of the Sunday date you went on with Ryomen. He picked you up and handed you a little bag filled with your favorite mochi – the ones stuffed with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, a delicacy made in only one place in Tokyo and you remember how your heart swelled with warmth and love when you realized he had driven to that shop on the other side of the city just to get you few pieces of sweets. He was wearing his usual, black dress pants and a leather belt, perfectly polished boots and a dark grey sweater that made him look both casual and dangerous, with the tattoos around his wrists exposed under the rolled-up sleeves and his sharp features, that somehow whenever were turned towards you seemed a little bit softer.

You felt like a princess next to him, you felt loved and protected with his large hand enveloping your smaller one in his warm embrace. It was perfect. It was perfect until–

You didn’t exactly pick up what happened and how it happened. Even now as you think of it, you can’t truly recall how that tale-like evening turned into a mess that led you to lose your sleep every night that followed. It was a flash. One second you were leaning into Sukuna’s palm, greedy to steal his warmth and love and next one you were pushed tightly against his chest behind a bench. His hand, that was embracing you with as much delicacy as one would use to touch a doll made of porcelain was suddenly pressed harshly to the side of your head, covering your ear. Someone was shooting, Ryomen was shooting. You felt the impact of each bullet being extracted from his weapon. Each one of the subtle shakes of his muscular body reverberated throughout your smaller frame. You heard guns, despite his effort to protect your eardrums, but the loud explosive sound mixed with screams of people around was loud and clear in your head. An echo of danger and violence that you witnessed firsthand even though the man that held you did everything he could to protect you from the event.

You remember vividly the moment Sukuna groaned and cussed lowly. It followed a soft tremble of his large body and at first you didn’t realize what happened, but then you felt the unexpected wet warmth on one of your hands. “It’s fine, don’t worry,” he was telling you over and over again as your eyes began to water at the realization that one of your palms was covered in blood. His blood.

“It’s just a scratch,” he was lying to you, but you didn’t know it was a lie until you saw him later. The magazine in his gun was empty sooner than you thought it will be and the foreign shooting continued. It seemed like there were few attackers, but you couldn’t tell where all of it was coming from. All you remember was that you stayed hidden in the large body of your lover for the entire time until the police sirens broke the scene.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, doing everything in your power to hold back sobs, as he kept you close to himself. You knew that police couldn’t be good for him and if not for you, he would most likely run away somehow, but he stayed there, behind the bench, holding you tightly and making sure not a single bullet could land on your fragile body.

He didn’t look mad, not even annoyed, when he was telling you what to do next and how to act in the face of what was to come, and even though you had the hardest time registering it through the immense fear you felt regarding his future, you were nodding. He was calm, and you thought that he stayed calm for you because the scene of shooting was enough of a distress for you already. And then, you saw him in handcuffs, with his hands shackled behind his back, guided towards the police car. Cops that were responsible for escorting him looked almost funny next to his towering frame and if he only wanted, he would quite easily throw those officers away. But he didn’t. And he didn’t do it to save you.

You remember the last time you saw him he sent you a smile, more so a smirk, when one of those cops harshly pushed his head down, making sure he got into the car. Few moments later, he was gone and you were left with the mess of the crime scene and the burden of a witness.

Later, you were informed by one of his pawns that it’s not gonna take long, but you knew that things were serious because few days slowly turned into a week and then two weeks and he still was in jail. And you couldn’t go visit him because he said so. You stayed in his house, safe and sound in the bed you always shared with him, except now you were alone and cold. You missed him. And you were worried.

It killed you inside to think Sukuna might face charges. A life sentence, most likely. There was only so much that you knew about his criminal past and you were sure that he kept many secrets from you, that he wanted to save you from the heavy burden of his misdeeds and cruelty. You knew how dangerous his lifestyle was, how dark was the path he chose to fallow and you knew that even someone as strong as him couldn’t escape the jurisdiction forever. But why now?

You couldn’t shake off the devastating feeling of emptiness whenever you wandered between the luxurious interiors of his mansion. It felt like you couldn’t stop worrying, day in and day out you were thinking if he was alright. Was he properly fed? He told you that he won’t contact you while in jail to protect you, but all you wished for was just to hear his voice. You were worried about the way authorities treat criminals of his sort. What will they do to him? The mere thought of torture or interrogation filled you with dread and anxiety. You never felt so alone and helpless.

* * *

It took too long.

In fact, detention took much longer than Sukuna anticipated but time behind the bars was nothing but an entertainment for him. It was amusing, it allowed him to let loose. Surrounded by an air of sadistic satisfaction he didn’t get to experience in years, he played game of pushing and pulling, a game of power. Despite being enclosed and surrounded by dozens of officers and guards, Sukuna had a sense of control over his situation, and it amused him. He was enjoying the misery that he caused others, relished in the fact that he was feared and hated. It made him almost giddy. There was a twinkle in his eye and a playful grin on his lips, he relished the experience.

“I’ve got few questions to you.”

He smirked, sitting smug and relaxed. For the nth time he was questioned; a futile attempt of getting information out of him, yet another display of the illusionary power that authorities thought they had but lacked severely. It made Ryomen laugh out loud each time he sat against a new face, it pleased him, he loved the feeling of having the interrogator’s full attention. Detectives that tried to enforce the law onto him looked tough, each one of them, until they dropped their weight onto the metal chair in the interrogation room. The heaviness of the sinister aura was unnerving to anyone who dared to approach and the criminal enjoyed breaking them one by one.

“Do you?” Sukuna spoke, his voice low and menacing, but bearing a thrill of amusement and excitement. The heavy chains that grounded his frame clinked as he moved just slightly and the shiver that went down the spine of the man in front of him did not escape his watchful eye. “Afraid?”

“Hardly,” a tone of false confidence responded to the question and Ryomen chuckled. To him, this was a game, and he was winning. He found joy in annoying the interrogator, knowing that he couldn’t get anything out of him. It was stimulating, it was fun. It was a game of cat and mouse. It felt euphoric to answer the questions, knowing that his words were confusing, that he was able to mess with the man’s head, make him question his own judgement.

Years and years of being on the top of mafia managed to clear his memory of being vulnerable and the caricature of it that he was now experiencing served for a nice refresher. He felt excitement to play with the law and as he sat there, restrained by metal bounds, he realized why he became a criminal in the first place. The constant chase of thrill and power was what made him who he was.

As the detective sat there, intimidated more and more with each passing second, Sukuna watched the disaster unraveling with a dark glint in his eyes. He enjoyed every moment of the tension and knew that chills were running down the spine of his current opponent. He was imposing, savoring the fear and the exquisite feeling of danger that surrounded him. It was intoxicating, it made him feel alive. He played with the interrogator as if the predator would play with its pray, he stared at him with a small grin of pure evil.

“You’ve been stubborn this whole time,” the officer said, clearing his throat and straightening his spine to make himself appear bigger but to Ryomen, he was merely a source of amusement. The criminal stayed relaxed and leaned forward, slowly closing the distance between his own face of death and the eyes of the person in front of him.

“Was I stubborn?” He questioned, his tone low and menacing and his lips stretched slowly, baring the teeth. “You’ve got me all chained up and still, you can’t get your job done?”

“You’re chained up because of the potential threat you might pose.”

Sukuna laughed. A raspy and low chuckle came from his throat; a dark omen that hung heavy in the air as if signifying the upcoming danger. It was cold and malicious, an ominous showcase of his real persona, of someone who has no compassion and knows no mercy. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at the sight of sweat running down the face of the man in front of him. He exuded an aura of fear, leaving everyone in the room unsettled.

“If I only wanted to, I could rip out your throat with my bare teeth.” Ryomen’s voice was low, it was quiet and nearly whisper like but the message it carried was more than enough to freeze the blood inside the veins of the interrogator.

“I assume you’re familiar with the idea of good cop bad cop method,” the man spoke again after a moment of dread. He cleared his throat once more, squared up his jaw.

“And which one are you?”

“Oh, I’m neither, but allow me to show you something,” interrogator reached to the inside pocket of his coat, pulling out a phone with his sweaty palms and pressing down few buttons.

The moment Sukuna looked down on the screen, his expression changed. A ghost of anger washed over his features as he took in the picture. Suddenly, he felt a wave of burning hot filling his veins and reaching his face; a dizzying sensation of dread and rage and then he realized that the power he wielded was nothing. With his eyes fixed on the little phone and his jaw clenched, shaken by the rush of adrenaline and with his knuckles white, Sukuna Ryomen experienced acknowledgement. An epiphany of sorts. The illusion of might and influence burst like a bubble made of soap and slowly he realized that he’s nothing but–

“Seeing something familiar?”

–weak.

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed @b3llair3 @lzaj19 @sanzusforeverwife @annshz, @mrs--imperfect @kaminari-no-ritsusha @gojos-princesa @burpzz

[helluvathings]

I've seen a few critiques that the episode is so 'Blitzø apologizing' heavy, without a lot of Stolas reflecting. Which is fair; there isn't much acknowledgment that the Stolitz problem is two-sided. At this point, though, I'm fairly okay with that. Despite being a follow-up to The Full Moon, the episode had a very contained premise and arc, and Blitzø's personal development served as the central focus. More than being a stolitz episode, Apology Tour was about Blitzø seeing where he's gone wrong in the past, getting closure with Verosika, then having an obviously impactful oh moment with Stolas at the end.

There's only so much space in an episode, and I like what this one did with Blitzø's character. I also do think it set up Stolas reconsidering some things. That moment where Stolas compares Blitzø to Striker really stood out to me. He gets sulky. Blitzø emphasizing his status clearly makes him uncomfortable, and he doesn't seem to think Blitzø has any justification in bringing it up.

He clearly hasn't engaged with the stuff behind the 'treating me like one of your little butler imps' comment whatsoever. And the fact that his body language is so childish here, the way Stolas says, "When have I ever-" after Blitzø claims he looks down on him, gets me thinking the writers didn't want him to seem in the right.

Look at this posture. That's not the expression of someone making a good point. He looks like a brat. He isn't taking Blitzø's class concerns seriously, when the writing has put so much time into making that an issue, it's clear the show does.

Then later on when he's singing, there's these lyrics:

Maybe there's something here for us to glean/for you to teach, and me to try to learn

Verosika and Tex come in and shut it down: no, he's a motherfucker. But Stolas's inclination was to ask, was something here my fault? He only embraces the 'he's a motherfucker' line after his questioning gets answered with a resounding negative from his backup singers. I'm not saying Stolas is a bad person for not responding to heartbreak by 'doing the work' on the related class issues. That wouldn't be realistic.

But in addition to all the progress these two made just by airing so much dirty laundry, there are indications the show isn't going to make this a Blitzø-only problem, and that Stolas is going to get development as well. It just might take more time.

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Bestfriends?

Dark!Gojo x Reader

18+ MDNI, dark, animal cruelty, non-con, violence, Gojo is horrible (I mean it), baby-trapping. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You should've known better than anyone that Satoru was never the merciful type.

His cheerful personality wasn't a facade but having known him for years made you aware of all the little tics that made him so terrifyingly him. Particularly that one little tic of his that always manages to send chills down your spine and ice the edges of your heart from fear despite him being your bestfriend.

The kind of fear that makes you wanna curl up into a ball and shrivel up just from the thought of being in the receiving end.

It's the little tic of his that makes him act like a cat which terrifies you even after all these years. It's not the way he acts so annoyingly asshole-ish like some cats or the way he acts so clingy like your beloved cat, Saibo, that scares you. No, it's the way he acts like a cat in it's most primal form that scares you. An instinct so abominable that it makes you cringe from disgust at just the thought of Saibo imitating it.

It's the very tiny tic of his that makes him toy around with his enemies like a cat that toys around with it's prey. Not for a just cause like survival but for the mere fact of entertainment to ease it's boredom; maybe you should've just killed yourself before it reached to the extent of making yourself Satoru's next target, his next prey and his pretty, little wife.

"Satoru, I told you twice already. My answer is a no, I don't want to marry you" you sigh, folding your arms across your chest as you look up at the man looming in your apartment doorway with an expression so blank that it reminded you of a statue.

A statue hand-crafted by the heavens itself and wearing the skin of your bestfriend.

His silence is a curse and for some eerie reason, you could hear the ticking of a clock somewhere behind you. Like a countdown of a bomb.

"Why?"

Flabbergasted doesn't even start to describe what you feel at his question because you've been telling him exactly why for the past two days since he stepped into your office and offered his proposal. And yet here he is, repeating the same question like a stuck recorder. There's nothing else you can say, you've already used up all of your excuses ranging from being an orphan to his clan elders future disapproval.

So when Saibo comes and rubs itself against your leg? There's only one utterly stupid sentence that presents itself-

"I promised my mum that I wouldn't marry anyone until I lose Saibo." Great, just great. You're a damn genius, obviously intelligent enough to dig a deep enough hole and bury yourself alive because why on Earth would you bring your sweet mum up right now. Leave the dead to rest in peace is what you should've don-

The smile tugging on his lips and the light tone of his voice after the uncomfortable silence cuts your monologue off. "That's all? I just have to wait for you to lose Saibo for you to marry me?"

"Watch your words, Gojo. You've gone too far" You snap, narrowing your eyes up at him.

If looks could kill, Satoru would've been buried a good 60 ft deep in because you obviously weren't gonna be satisfied with 6ft. Not after what he said; sure you did imply it but that still doesn't make it any better.

"This is going too far but rejecting me three times isn't?" Satoru scoffs, walking in so confidently that it made you stumble back and made your beloved cat hiss at him, bless her heart. His back faces you and suddenly it's cold, chills runs up your spine after your initial surprise fades and the click of the door lock seemingly drowns itself in the rapid thump of your now slowly thundering heart. You're getting deja vu, you're sure of it, it's the same sensation you always get when he gets on the battlefield.

When he turns back around, you notice that his blindfold was off but the look on his face is what makes you freeze. His gaze was anything but friendly and his eyes were a color so menacingly blue that it cuts through your skin and attaches itself in that tiny part deep inside you that always made you wary of him. For good reason.

Saibo jumps in front of you and promptly growls, a sound that you never heard her make, shaking you awake from your frozen daze and forcing you to watch the person you called your bestfriend quickly close the small distance.

"All I wanted was your acceptance" he says, ignoring the hissing cat in front of him "Is that really too much to ask for from you, pretty?"

"I can give you everything, Satoru. Everything except for that" you breathe out shakily, goosebumps rising in your arms when he caresses your cheeks. A touch so cold that you're not sure if it's because of his infinity or the frozen mechanism beating in his chest that he calls a heart.

"Then give me everything" Satoru's hand on your cheeks slides down to your neck, wrapping around it to pull you close "I'll give you everything you want in return, I'll give you anything in the world"

His hold gradually tightens on your throat, almost like a threat. No, it was a threat.

"Do you even know what you're asking for?" You spit out, nails digging into his wrist but that damn infinity of his kept you out and him safe almost like he was the victim in this situation.

"You clearly know that I do darling, and it's a damn shame really" He leans in, his eyes filled with so much adoration it makes you wanna gouge it out "Since I always thought you were a smart girl but maybe it's time to treat you like you're dumber than you are"

His last words are a whisper in your ears and in a split second his infinity is down and his lips roughly crash against yours, one hand squeezing at your throat and the other forcing your mouth open to shove his tongue inside while your hands tears into his skin and pushes at his chest, his face, his shoulders but all it earns you is a loud moan from him that shrivels something up inside you when you realise he likes it.

He likes your desperate attempts to free yourself from his disgusting hold. Likes the way you struggle against his grasp. Likes the way you whine and whimper protests against his lips, trying desperately to bite down on his tongue and finger but pathetically failing to do so-

What he doesn't like is the way Saibo also manages to dig her claws into his skin, much like you, albeit shallow due to the thick material of his pants but doing enough damage to attract his attention. You've had Saibo for 15 years and never was she so violent, tears springs in your eyes at the thought of it but before a single tear even manages to glide down your reddened cheeks, there's a push and you're down flat on the couch behind you and Satoru is holding a hissing Saibo by her fluffy white cuff.

"Shame, I actually liked you since you looked like me y'know?" Satoru hums, holding her at a safe distance with a small frown "Made me think that you'd remind her of me"

"Satoru, let her down" you manage out shakily, sitting up and holding a trembling hand out for Saibo. Hoping that Satoru wouldn't do what you think he's gonna do, he's your bestfriend afterall...isn't he? He should know better than that-

"I was trying so hard to be nice to you darling. I even went out of my way to ask you three times but you- hah- Honestly, you brought this to yourself" he clicks his tongue with a shake of his head, an almost feline grin plastered on his face as he steps back.

You've known Satoru for years now and sure he was a little volatile, somewhat impulsive and downright crazy when it came to the things he wanted but at least he was constant.

Constant enough for you to know that he was batshit insane.

"Satoru, please" you plead but her back is facing you and his hands is around her neck and there's nothing you can do but rush towards him a second too late. There's a sickening crack and a loud howl and Saibo's back is turned towards you but her cerulean eyes burns through your skin and heart and mind and soul an- the ticking of the clock finally stops. "Well she's gone now. Looks like you're finally able to marry me" his voice is light, almost cheerful while you're frozen in place. Tears blur your vision but both their cerulean eyes burns stark in your mind, Satoru and Saibo.

You've lost two bestfriends in one day. Lucky you.

There's a strangled cry emanating from somewhere, one so despaired that it claws at your heart and makes you wanna cover your ears and just cry yourself to death.

"I didn't want to do this either, darling" there's a quiet shushing and a warm hand places itself against your mouth, blue eyes gazing back at you like he hurts more than you do.

You shut your mouth and the sound is gone but the scratches in your heart still stings when you're pushed flat on your back. Still hurts when you limply tilt your head to the side to look at the lump of white on the coffee table and ignore the dull feeling of someone groping you because your pretty cat laid there, it's dead blues staring at you.

Saibo, your pretty little cat. Your mother had adopted a cat when you were young, a cat just as soft-spoken and warm as her. A pretty little ragdoll with soft, white fur and cerulean eyes that always licked at you like its own kitten when your own mother held you in her arms and cooed sweet nothings to you.

There's a numb hold on your cheeks and a hollow sound of squelching when you feel someone pry your mouth open and force something wet inside. Your blurry gaze flickers down to see your shirt missing and ugly red spots splotched across your chest, flickering your gaze upwards only to find blue eyes staring back at you.

Blue eyes like your mother's cat, one that never left your mother's bed after her death. She had a litter of five when your mother was alive, she had only one left after your mother's passing. The very one that she gently laid down on your open hands, licking your cheeks one last time before curling up in her usual spot and quietly passing away on your mother's bed a month lat-

"Don't go gazing off into the distance on me now, pretty girl" Someone coos in your ear, the blurriness of your vision slowly melting away when a warm hand wipes the silent tears streaming from your eyes. And then you see the familiar face of a man that looked nothing like your bestfriend, nothing like the Satoru you thought you knew.

You blink. Once. Twice. Trying to make sense of his echoing words through the haziness of your mind that wraps around you like a blank cocoon and numbs the intrusive feeling of his touch in between your legs. Time is a privilege and you don't know how long he's been at it but the dull heat resting low in your stomach and the disgusting feeling of his fingers moving inside you was as unwelcome as it was unwanted.

Not like he would've cared if you voiced it out.

Satoru always did have the ability to unceremoniously wrench the space people considered safe from underneath them; you've watched him give his enemies a false sense of security enough time to immediately recognise that familiar smile making its ways on his lips. The smile that made you realise that your fate was sealed, only proven true by the burning stretch that rips at the haze in your mind and steals the welcomed numbness to replace itself with burns that sears into your skin and brands itself deep inside.

"Satoru st-stop" you breathe out, brows furrowing from the sharp stings as you dig your nails into his skin and create little moon shaped dents into the milky expanse of his chest. "C-can't, won't" he groans out, pushing his cock well past the resistance of your clenching walls with gritted teeth "Also relax darling- hngh- you're just making it worse -shit, stop that" His hand besides your head moves to your hair, hold so tight that it pulls at your scalps and makes you grunt out in pain.

"Wait. Look I'm al-already halfway in" Satoru groans out delightedly, forcing your head up to make you look at the way he was buried inside you. Pulling out just a little to show his thick cock covered in your slick and blood because of course you'd bleed when an inhuman size forces itself inside your tight hole even after all the prep.

And then he's pushing back in mercilessly and there's a choked, painful moan forcing itself up your throat "St-stop -ah-it hurts!"

"I'm sorry darling. I know it hurts but it won't for long" he shushes at you quietly, pressing featherlight kisses on your forehead "It'll just hurt this one time, I promise." Your body is screaming so hard from the pain and betrayal that your voice seemingly loses itself in it, quiet gurgles being the only thing rising from your bleeding throat when he suddenly bucks his hips and bottoms out in you.

And then you're gone.

Nothing in this world could ever make you forget the sound of his heaving moan and guttural praises; praising you for taking him so well, acting like he didn't just force himself past your resistance and inside you.

Your tears and sobs don't deter him, it only turns him on, only encourages him to whisper sweet nothings in your ears, the sound of it makes you wanna rip your defiled ears off, and lick at the fat blobs of tears sliding down your cheeks. His small show of mercy is allowing you to adjust to his size; it only makes you feel worse, just the thought of him inside you for a second longer makes you wan-

An impatient thrust is all it takes for you to go numb again, body going limp when he runs out of patience and grabs hold of your hips to slam you down on him. Over and over and over again until you're nothing but a pile of meat and bones, and he's nothing but a groaning mess of everything you hate. Until your howls turns into muted little ah's and his held back moans morphes into a version of your name that he so religiously, and loudly, mewls in your ear with every buck of his hips against yours.

His voice is as muted as the sound of wet skin slapping against each other, your head limply tilted to the side with your gaze blankly fixated against the brown material of your couch when your body shuts itself down. But like all respite, Satoru steals it away again with a click of his tongue and a hand squishing your cheeks together into a small pout to force your head to the other side. Forcing you to look at the disproportioned lump of white on the table that you once called family.

Satoru could just say that he personally killed your mother at this point.

"Don't w- ngh-worry. Always knew you wanted a family" he rasps out, biting and sucking at every inch of skin he could get his lips on "Now I'll give you one, a real one. One that doesn't include a damn cat"

"S'toru" you whisper out, barely finding your voice in the mess and like always, it's ignored for his own rambling. "Gonna fill this right up for little mini-me" there's a sharp sting on your chest, you force your gaze down and look over his hand to watch him suckle at your nipples like a newborn babe searching for milk. An idea he's soon gonna turn into reality. You rasp his name out louder, ignored again when he finally lets go of your cheeks to slide it down to your womb and press down, hard "I-I swear I'll make- ngh-you into a mama if it's the last thing I do"

There's only so much feeling that your body can numb, only so much it can do against Satoru and his dick. Your orgasm was anything but pleasant if not painful, feeling his every inch, vein and curve mold itself inside you and rip you apart with shocks so violent that you jerk and writhe and clench your gooey walls down on him- you know it's finally over when he babbles in your ears and spurts something hot and repulsive inside you, his brutal pace finally stuttering to a stop and turning into a grind, perfectly plugging his obscenity inside you.

"Satoru" your voice is foreign to your own ears, his heat goes unregistered and the white cold lump is promptly forgotten because of that one thought buzzing in your head. "Yes darling?" His voice is as foreign as yours to you, his gaze undecipherable when he pulls away to look at you, leaning down to kiss you on the li- "I hate you"

He pauses, lips brushing against yours just barely. There's that signature smile of his and the regrettably familiar feeling of his lips pressing against yours. His reply seemingly drowning itself in the constant buzzing of your ears, only one thought ringing through your mind over and over again.

You should've killed yourself the very moment he proposed to you.

Masterlist ° NSFWlist Had to post this snippet cuz 2 months is a long time to be dead for. I got the heebie jeebies writing this but I was too far into it so I had to finish it😦

[uranometrias]

✮ꜜ : ❛ now i see daylight : spencer reid x fem! reader

pairing: spencer reid x fem! reader

summary: three weeks have gone by since your last encounter with reid. you'd both been doing an exceptional job of pretending that the other didn't exist. you felt like it was only fair. he didn't have the right to talk to you any type of way, and you supposed in his mind, you didn't have the right to behave so jealously. three weeks of no ground being made, that is, of course, until a conversation with rossi helps to screw your head on straight

content warnings: love confessions. reader definitely has anxiety and a fear of romance/relationships, BUT she fights her fear! i also think it's fair to say that she views telling spencer about her feelings as facing her fear, regardless of his response! this is part two to 'guilt is a motherfucker'.... i'm so sorry it's taken forever, but i've actually preparing to enlist in the army && haven't had a lot of down time. i've got 10 drafts to prove it, but i tried my best to make this longer than part one, and i hope that you guys enjoy it.

Grow up.

Those words had haunted you for about three weeks. It'd been that long since the day you and Spencer had sort of... drifted apart. You refused to blame yourself, despite knowing full well this whole ordeal was majorly your fault. Okay, all of the blame very well rested on your shoulders, but you were stubborn. You'd been that way forever.

Maybe you were the childish, scared, and jealous little girl he'd accused you of being. That wasn't your job to figure out, because he had no business speaking to you that way. Who did he think he was? You could hit him right in his stupid little face. That last thought of violence seems to follow you.

Especially as you sat as your desk, leg bouncing furiously underneath as you counted the seconds until he was away from the kitchenette. Your cup of coffee was dwindling, and you still had a few more files to get through, before you'd give yourself room to slack off. You needed more caffeine, but the newfound thorn in your side was taking up space, using up all the sugar as he made his third cup of the day.

A more mature person might have questioned why you didn't just go up there anyway. He didn't own the kitchenette, and it wasn't like you had to say anything at all. It was meant to be cut-and-dry, you were both mature adults, you could interact as such. Except neither of you were quite as mature as you affronted. You could just picture the screwed up expression he'd offer you if you chose to approach.

You were certain your face was already twisted up, showing off your own annoyance, and he wasn't even near you.

You'd been berated by Derek, Emily, and Penelope over your petty streak, all three parties really driving in the point that you were behaving like a toddler throwing a tantrum. They had a point, but you also refused to accept any such criticism about your behavior. Partly, because you hated correction, and you didn't want to think about the possibility that all of your friends were on his side.

But you think most of your refusal to accept your part from any of them had a lot to do with the fact that they weren't the ones who'd been so callously humiliated, and they weren't the ones with feelings for someone who obviously knew, and was perfectly content flaunting such knowledge right in your face.

God, you could punt him like a football.

You needed to work on your insult creativity, these were starting to get repetitive. You shake all thoughts of assault out of your mind as Dave begins to approach your desk. Rossi wasn't stupid, he like everyone else had noticed the significant decline in attention passed between you, and Reid. But unlike the rowdier members of the team, he and JJ had elected to go the route of silent but deadly.

They'd cast the both of you disapproving looks when in rare form you'd allowed your spat to affect your job. Their clear disappointment in you exceptionally loud. Times like those were sparce, you really only ever objected obedience when Hotch insisted on partnering the both of you up. Which had luckily become much more rare in the last few weeks.

"Still pouting, angioletto?" he asks, and his ability to read right through you seems to make your pout deepen. "It's been three weeks, don't you think it's time to talk about it or move on?" he questions, and there's no judgement there. It's what you like the most about Rossi, he seemed to have fallen into the role of paternal figure incredibly well. He gave you the tough love that you often needed.

But he never disrespected your boundaries, he never went too far. He'd always say just enough to nudge you in the right direction.

"Maybe." you agree, and it's true. You know it's time to put this situation behind you in one way or another, but you refused to cave first. You didn't want to give Spencer the satisfaction of it, and once again you're made aware of just how petty you really were. "But I don't want to." you voice this thought to Dave, who offers an unamused expression. You narrow your eyes in his direction.

"He's the one that started it..." you exclaim your side for the umpteenth time. Rossi's expression doesn't morph, but there is a bit of disappointment swimming in his eyes. It makes you avert your gaze quickly, you could feel the first pinpricks of guilt slicing at you. "It's true." you insist. Rossi waves a tired hand at you, ushering you to proceed, and you find yourself grateful for the chance to vent.

Everyone else knew too much about the behind the scenes to let you get a word in edgewise. Rossi was basically a clean slate. "If he knew all along, what he thinks he knows..." you stop long enough to look towards the kitchenette. He's still there, which is a relief, you'd be pissed if somehow he managed to overhear this. "Then why would he come over here and flaunt it. Was he trying to rub it in?" you demand.

Silly you for thinking that Rossi would be any less on your ass than the rest of the team. He was David Rossi after all, one of the founders of the BAU, a smart man that could read you like a picture book. "You finished?" he asks, and your mouth parts. You weren't finished, but you don't tell him that, he looked like he was ready to lecture. You offer a curt nod, and he hums under his breath.

"What exactly were you expecting from him, Y/N?" he asks, and you blanche. You weren't expecting anything, you'd never expected anything from Spencer. "I mean just stick with me here... put yourself in his shoes for one second." he prompts, and you huff. Those were big shoes, probably uncomfortable. Still, you play along as you wait for Rossi to proceed. "Would you wait around for two years for someone to finally realize that they want to be with you?" he asks.

You hope that it's rhetorical, because the answer for you was probably a lot different than the one he was expecting. You also feel the urge to correct him, you didn't take two years to figure out you liked him, you'd known since your first day. Your issue was verbalizing it, because you cared about your bond. Spencer was nice, he was the sweetest person you'd ever met. You liked seeing him get excited about the things no one else seemed to care about. He was different.

He was your friend, and you had always admired him.

"I wasn't making him wait..." you voice the correction. "And I didn't need time to realize anything..." you trail off, and realization seems to set in for Rossi. He sighs deeply, head shaking as you continue on your tangent. "I liked him back when all the girls in the unit still looked at him like he was some freak, and I'm not saying it entitles me to anything... I'm the dummy for being a chicken, but he didn't have to be so mean." and you're certain that's the root of it all.

Your feelings were hurt.

"Ah, well haven't you heard? Boys are quite stupid." Rossi offers, and you think he only said it to get you to laugh. It works, because you do chuckle, and it makes Dave's shoulders relax just slightly. "Talk to him, Y/N." he presses, and you find yourself looking across the bullpen. "It's the right thing to do." and you know he's right. "And who knows, it might even wind up being for the best." he offers, and you blanch. You nod your head, and Rossi beams proudly.

"You're right." you agree audibly, and you're fidgeting in your chair.

"You are coming this Friday aren't you?" Rossi pries, and you've gone nonverbal, head nodding once more as he mimics your action. "See if you guys can't get this squared away before then, won't you?" he asks, and he's leaving you with a gentle pat on the shoulder. You stare after Rossi with a mixture of disdain and appreciation. Leave it to the old man to get you off your ass. Your eyes are drawn to Spencer as he draws closer, you know he's not coming to you.

It was a byproduct of your desk location, but it wouldn't hurt to use it to your advantage. When he's within earshot, you take the first step. "Spence?" you try, and you expect him to ignore you, to keep walking like the sassy bastard that he is, but he shocks you. He seems to mirror your feelings with his own surprised expression. "Can we talk?" you try, and it's the cliche thing... but you don't have it in you to be poetic. He stops abruptly, head nodding stiffly as he does so.

You feel like you need to stand up, having him stand over you feels too much like you're being cornered or something of the sort. He takes a small step back when you do so though, and the tension seems to only grow tenfold. You mask your disappointment in his retreat easily, instead standing up a bit straighter, sticking your chin out as you prepare to bite the bullet and be the bigger woman. It was utterly humiliating having to bring yourself back to Earth like this.

"Sure." he finally verbally answers your question, you take that as a cue to get on with it. Your patience for back and forth seemed almost as thin as his.

"Maybe it's three weeks too late..." you begin, and his eyebrows furrow. "And I know we've got this new rhythm of pretending we don't exist to each other," and his face betrays how wrong he finds that statement. His face pinches up like he's smelled something bad, and he wants to remind you that the only reason you hadn't spoken was because you hadn't had the guts to own up to the fact that you had feelings for him, but he digresses. He wasn't here to pick a fight.

"But, I'm sorry...." you spit the apology out and it feels hollow. You know you have to do better, so you proceed before he can shoot you a disapproving glance. "I really am." you insist, and despite the fact that you had only just begun to feel guilty about the whole thing in the last few minutes, you meant it. "I never should've acted like that, and I never should have let this go on for so long." you express.

Across the bullpen, Rossi, Penelope, Derek, and Emily are huddled up watching the exchange, not so discreetly. You're none the wiser to your growing audience, but Spencer sees them clearly. Not that they were really aiming for subtlety. "It's not my business what you do outside of work or who you do it with." and your nose curls, mostly because you want it to be your business. You want to be valid in your aggravation, more than that you wanted to be his. How annoying.

Your leg starts to shake just barely, and you look like you'll crumble to the ground at any moment. Spencer notices all of these ticks, and stores them into the part of his brain that's full of things specific to you. "So I'm sorry that I was being a jerk." you offer, and Spencer's face doesn't show any signs of whether or not he believed you, so you continue. "I'm happy for you." you clear your throat, and feel embarrassment setting in.

"Thanks, Y/N." his head tips to the right as he appraises you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes you in. It's not a menacing sort of glance. He seemed to be waiting for something else, you weren't sure what more could be put into your apology, there was no way you were about to give an outright confession, that'd be humiliating. Instead, you avert your gaze, and it seems to be enough of an answer to whatever internal question he had. "That actually means a lot."

You don't smile, mostly because you're not sure what the actually means, he seems to notice the way your expression changes just slightly, and he's quick to correct himself.

"I just mean that your approval does mean a lot to me." he says, and you relax. You can't quite beam, you're still not up for it, but you offer a small smile, one that could count more as a grimace than anything else, but you weren't in the headspace to monitor your facial expressions. You were growing bothered all over again, and you had to do everything in your power to ensure that this time things didn't end with another three-week break between you and Spencer.

"Really?"

Spencer's nose curls now, he's an expressive guy. His facials said a lot more than his words could at times, and you note that this particular expressions reads somewhere between confused and surprised. Those were almost synonyms in the grand scheme of things, right? "Is that a real question?" Spencer asks, and despite the tension that hung over you at the start of the conversation, with this question you witness the way his guard drops. It was liberating in a way.

"I asked it didn't I?" you quip, but there's no real bite behind your words. Spencer seems to note this, lips pressing together firmly.

"You're important to me." he promises, and you hate that his first reaction is to validate you. Your anxiety-riddled mind would convince you that he secretly thought you were fishing for praise, which was the farthest thing from the truth. Still, you love Spencer, platonically and otherwise, and you're certain that's why you're mimicking his words back to him so quickly.

"You're important to me too."

He takes a second to stare at you, and you stare right back. You're careful not to show any signs of timidity or awkwardness, things were finally starting to look up. "I..." he begins, and you stay silent to allow him the time he needs to get whatever was on his chest off. "I'm sorry." he says, and you're surprised. It was the last thing you'd expected from this conversation, you're certain your surprise is evident plain as day on your face.

"Yeah?" you feel it's only fair to press him onward.

"Jealous little girl." he cringes as he repeats it, and you wince because it still hurts. "That was-" he shakes his head. "It was out of line. Plain and simple, I guess I was just a little frustrated, but that's not your fault. It wasn't fair of me to come at you in that way." he begins to ramble. "I wouldn't want you to feel... mocked or belittled by me." and you blink. Mostly because that was exactly how you had felt, but how did he know. It's then that you finally feel the beady-eyed stares.

You look over your shoulder just in time to witness the group dispersing, Penelope grasping a file in her hand as she scurried in the opposite direction. Derek picking up a file folder, and Emily focusing all her attention on the drink sloshing around her mug. You really hate profilers, this is the loudest thought in your head as you turn back to Spencer. "It doesn't matter if I felt justified then, or even if I feel justified about it now." and it makes you snort.

Classic Spence.

"D-Do you forgive me? Are we okay?" he asks, and his voice has grown a bit fainter. If you listen hard enough you hear the echoes of the Spencer you first met. Even with all his strides, and the confidence he gained, there was still that small part of him that felt like the nerdy boy that everyone overlooked. The one that talked too much, and was constantly silenced with looks or snide remarks whenever he rambled for too long about some niche subject.

You think this train of thought is what gets you to see Rossi's point of view. And who were you to get in the way of someone who clearly was ready for someone as amazing as Spencer. You didn't know much about the woman, aside from the fact that she was constantly making coffee, and staring at Spencer. You didn't know how long she'd worked at the bureau, you didn't even know her name, but you knew that she was brave. She knew what she wanted and got it.

Unlike you.

You suppose 'snooze you lose' is your burden to carry from this ordeal. At least you'd gotten your friend back though. And that was enough, it could be anyway. You nod your head at his question, offering a half smile. "We're okay, Spence." you promise, and he seems relieved. His smile is one of those rare ones, the gorgeous kind that Spencer reserved for special occasions. He then visibly and audibly lets out a quiet sound of relief, and it makes you relax.

"Hey, Spence, can I get your help?" JJ is calling, and your pulled from your bubble. The world is still spinning, there's still work to do, pressing matters that needed your attention. You felt a little lighter, offering another half smile as he offers you a sheepish glance. He's heading towards JJ as you sit back down at your desk. Your leg bounces despite the perceived 'win'. It only takes you a moment to wonder why, reality sets in, and you realize your shortcomings.

You'd failed the test twice.

Twice you'd had the chance to be the most open and honest with Spencer, only to let your nerves or fear of rejection get in the way. The jealousy is gone now though, instead replaced with a brief feeling of self-aggravation. You hear Dave's stern voice in your head. 'Talk to him, Y/N.' and you frown. Hadn't that been what you'd done? You'd talked to him, so why did you still feel so bummed.

Why don't you just talk to the guy? Look him in the eye and tell him straight up how you're feeling? Derek's question from three weeks prior slaps you like a ton of bricks. You supposed that was the end goal, wasn't it? The only way to relieve yourself of all this anxiety and all the big feelings you were having a hard time digesting. You're back to pouting, mostly because you've got no idea where to start.

You pick up one of your files, and flip it open, hoping to bury yourself in work. Every time your mind tried to stray to Spencer or your feelings, you'd switch files, until all twenty-five on your desk had a dent in them. Your hand was cramped, and you know that soon enough you'll need a cup of coffee. Emily approaches your desk, hands centered as she leans forward, eyes right on you.

"So how did it go?" she asks, and you cut your eyes at her. "Tension's all gone, so it must have gone well, right?" she's grinning down at you. "I told you if you told him the truth, you'd have nothing to worry about." Emily proceeds, and you're shaking your head back and forth.

"Emily... Emily, no!" you exclaim, and her smile drops.

"No? What do you mean, no?" she demands as you exhale.

"I still haven't told him, and I'd really appreciate it, if you'd lower your voice." you hiss as she pouts. "Maybe it's just not supposed to be." you shrug, and Emily looks visibly disgruntled with your thoughts. "I'm just saying... we're okay, because we apologized." you explain. "I don't want to risk making it awkward again, because I think I have feelings." and now you're being purposely dismissive.

"Oh, so now you're not sure?" Emily questions, and then she's clicking her tongue against her teeth. "No. I don't buy that." she denies, and she's stern, but discrete. "Don't do this, Y/N. Don't be that girl." she pleads. "There's nothing worse than regret. It eats at you until there's nothing left, you don't want to look back, and think 'what if!'" and that's twice you're hearing something of the sort. Wasn't there some quote about hearing important things twice? You're not sure.

"If you like him-" she pauses, head still shaking from side to side. "If you love him... like it seems, you owe it to yourself to tell him. What's the worst thing that could happen?" she questions, and you scoff. "No, realistically." she insists. "Realistically tell me what the worst thing could be? And not from that place where your irrational fears sit." she deadpans, and you feel attacked, it makes you look away.

"In the two years of you knowing Reid, do you actually think that he's the kind of guy to break you down to nothing if he doesn't feel the same?" she asks, and the answer when presented to you like this is no. "So tell me what it is that you're really scared of?" she presses, and you don't understand why everyone's so worked up over this. Why the whole unit seemed to be invested in you expressing your feelings.

"I don't want to mess it up..." you shrug your shoulders. "I don't want to make it weird." you offer, and Emily's unmoved by your answer.

"You managed to do that without saying a thing." she retorts, and you feel like you've got no room to speak, no voice to rebuttal with. "Let me be your shrink for a second." Emily is your friend for moments like these, where her clear allegiance to you shines through. "Talk to me." she prompts.

"Why are you so invested in this?" you inquire. "Why does it even matter?" you huff.

"Because it matters to you." she answers. "What? You didn't know that's how this team works?" she asks, and you huff out a puff of air through your nose. "This isn't about us playing matchmaker... it's about you realizing that you've got a few bad beliefs about romance... and friendships.... and relationships that are going to keep you all by yourself if you don't start speaking your mind." she shrugs.

"And despite the way you curl into yourself back here at your desk, we both know you don't really want to be alone." and you think you might cry, it makes you wince. "You owe it to yourself to try, but ultimately the decision is all yours. I just think you'll feel better if you take Reid aside, and tell him the truth about how you feel." she seems done, and you don't know how to respond. Emily pats your shoulder as she rounds your desk, before heading back across the unit.

You really hate profilers.

By the time you're heading home for the night, you and Spencer hadn't spoken again. You'd been so buried in work that you'd skipped lunch to get things done. You'd gotten a comment from Hotch about that, wondering if you were feeling alright. You knew that he knew the truth, even as you told him a fib. Hotch though, was discrete enough not to make you feel scrutinized by exposing just how obvious you were. You couldn't get Emily's words out of your head.

You didn't feel angry with her, and your embarrassment had managed to go away within the first forty minutes after she'd left you alone. You knew she was right, but it still didn't make things easier. It was almost like you forgot how to speak whenever the time came to really express yourself. You supposed that was why your apology had been so flat. Feelings weren't your strong suit, and you'd learned to express them by lashing out. A less than healthy way to live.

You liked that the team didn't speak to you like a child or treat you like you were incapable. Instead, they talked to you like an adult, gave the truth to you in a way that sliced through all your stubbornness and attitude. As you head towards the elevator, you hear footsteps, and look just in time to see Spencer making his way towards you. His satchel hangs off his shoulder, and he looks relieved, an emotion that you knew all too well by the end of a work shift.

You hoped there wouldn't be any cases that drug you back to the unit, all you wanted was a shower and a nap in your own bed.

Stepping into the elevator, Spencer trails you. He takes one side of the elevator, while you huddle up in the other. He offers you a tired smile as the doors slide closed, you offer him a smile right back. It's weary, mostly because you were drained, but partly, because Spencer had been the object of your thoughts the entire day. Especially after Emily's blunt speech. You were drained. The anxiety of keeping the secret far outweighed any fear of rejection now.

"Hey, are you alright?" he addresses you, after noticing the way you seemed lost in your head.

"Hmm?" you hum, and he repeats himself. It snaps you out of your mind spiral, and your head nods. A lie. "I'm all good, Spence." you reply, and he looks disappointed, but not surprised. "Thanks for asking though." you add a second after, and he offers you a dry little nod of his head. The elevator is back silent, and you hope the doors open quick. You might drown if the tension grew any thicker.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." he says, and you blank. Your confusion is clear as day on your face. "Earlier..." and your still not understanding. "I wasn't telling you that you were important to me, because I was expecting anything in return." he explains, and it clicks. "If it made you feel weird, I'm sorry. It just felt like the right way to express my point then." he proceeds, and you don't know how to collect yourself. "So, I'm sorry." and you want to scream.

Mostly at yourself for being so infuriatingly inadequate at expressing your thoughts and feelings.

"If you want, we could just pretend I never said anything?" he offers, and you don't answer quick enough. The elevator slides open just as the words are settling inside your head, and he's stepping out into the parking deck without another word. You sit there in the elevator for a moment, the door sliding shut after a moment, but you don't move. You feel like you're at a crossroads, almost at a point of no return. If you let Spencer leave now... like this, there would be no coming back.

There would be no room to gain some balls later, and try again. It wouldn't be fair to him. It wouldn't be fair to yourself.

You feel like hyperventilating, thoughts everywhere. Love had never been a subject you really understood. You'd always sort of saw it as this concrete construct. Unchangeable, always either black or white. A gloomy, gray, existence that could cut you up and spit you out. Love could turn you into a hollow version of who you once were. Love could break you down, and make you nothing. But then you think of your team. JJ and Penelope, Hotch, Dave, Emily, Derek. Spencer.

They were the rarest and purest examples of love in your day-to-day life, weren't they? You'd never quite met anyone who had your back more than your team. They fought for you, they fought with you. They believed in you, pushed you to be the best you that you could be. So why was it so hard, what were you scared of? Was it the notion of getting Spencer, and staining him? Blowing out that light inside him the way you'd witnessed for so long?

Was that a life worth living? Was it a chance you could take?

And then you huff, because damnit... you were tired of waiting. You were tired of anxiety, and uncertainty, and insecurity, and pain. You're certain that is why you hit the button to open the elevator. Gracefulness is not on your side as you practically sprint out into the car park, your eyes scanning hopefully for the familiar silhouette of your friend. When you spot him, you release a quiet noise of relief. "S-Spencer!" you hear the echo from your shout, and cringe.

But it doesn't matter, because he turns, he stops, and he's looking at you. His eyebrows are raised, hands gripping his bag, as you start to run. You ignore your fatigue, and your desire to run and hide, and instead run towards something for once. You don't stop running until you're past the point of 'personal space', you want to hover, you want to be in his space, because it was the only way you could possibly get through this. He looks a bit unsure, and still a bit grumpy.

You hope by the end of this that's no longer the case.

"Spencer, I don't want to forget about what you said." you're trying to catch your breath, bouncing up on your heels. "I don't want to pretend you never said it." you add, and Spencer's surprised expression has the hairs on your arm and neck ready to stand on end. "I-I actually want to know what you meant." you admit. "Because, I know what I meant when I said it... and it's not something that I take back." you express, and you can hear blood rushing in your ears.

"What did you mean?" Spencer asks, and you blanche.

"I asked you first." the obvious retort, and Spencer exhales loudly, but there's no annoyance, no exasperation. Only amusement, like always.

"I've done enough talking, haven't I?" he asks. "I want to know what you're thinking." and his voice is so soft, full of tenderness that you feel like you're being serenaded. You feel like you've got a knot in your throat also, almost like you'll suffocate if you don't get your thoughts out. "I promise I won't leave you hanging." and you're not sure what he means by that, but it helps. It makes your heart stutter-step, and you need to catch your breath, because you can't believe this is actually happening, or that you're actually here.

"I-" you play withy your fingers, and you have to inhale deeply to ensure you don't chicken out. "Spence, I didn't tell you that you were important to me, because you said it first." you promise, and he nods, but he doesn't say anything. His eyes are syrupy, alluring, and beautiful, still twinkling under the dingy, flickering lights of the parking deck. "I said it because you're all I really think about." you admit, and his eyebrows furrow, and you're scared.

"And the last three weeks... I've been so mad at you." you blurt out. "I was the one that acted like a child, but I was angry with you, because I thought that you were making fun of me... and all the feelings I have for you." you exhale, and you look down at the ground, because the nerves that come with your words are overwhelming. "I was jealous, I acted like a child, but it was only because I thought you were rubbing it in my face... I thought you were being cruel."

Spencer's long lashes blink rapidly, but he's still stone silent. Probably because he knows that you're still not done. "And that wasn't fair of me, because I know you, Spence. You're not that type of person, but I just I couldn't reign myself in, and I acted immaturely because I was scared... and then just now, in the elevator... I almost did it again. I almost let you think that I don't care about you... but I do. Spencer, I have feelings for you." and you clear your throat, legs shaking.

"I'm in love with you, and I'm not... this isn't some trick or ploy or cry for help. I understand if you're mind is elsewhere... and I'm so sorry if the way I've been acting ruined everything, but I-I love you okay? That's what this has all been about. I'm sorry it took me so long to say something, but there it is." and you gasp, chest heaving now that you were finished. You finally look up at Spencer again, and he's staring you down. It doesn't feel hypersexual or heady with tension.

Instead, it's like the first intake of air into your lungs after being under water for so long. You supposed that's what the truth did, you supposed that's what your feelings for Spencer did when you allowed them to exist. "You mean that?" he asks, and you huff.

"Of course, I mean it. I mean it so much, I think I'm going to be sick." and despite himself he laughs, a bright beam following after it. He takes a small step towards you, and you feel crowded, the body heat from you both warming you up from the inside out. Still, despite how outwardly calm he looked in comparison to you, you managed to spot the shyness, the anxiety that rested in his own eyes. He looked unsure, almost like he was being careful not to ruin the moment.

"Do you know how long I've been wanting to hear you say that?" he asks, and you're shocked, stuck, surprised. You don't know if this is in your mind or if you just got lucky. "Have you ever-" he's got this gleeful look on his face. "There's this quote by Lao Tzu..." he stammers, "Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart, and the senses." he quotes, and there are no butterflies... you think that might be a good thing.

"I don't know if there's been a time since I met you that you haven't been on my mind." Spencer explains, and there it is. "I think that's why I snapped the way I did, I don't think I ever imagined a scenario where we'd be here." he admits, and it pains you to know that he thought that way. "It was-" he motions between you both. "The thought of us being something was sort of just something I believed would always sort of just be a thought." Spencer's glowing red.

The blush coats his ears, cheeks, nose, and neck. His eyes are brighter, and his hands twitch at his side, almost like he's restraining himself. You think you only notice, because you're doing the same.

"I want to be with you." he says this so faintly you're almost unsure you heard him correctly. Your eyes widen, and your surprise is obvious. He takes a small step forward, and he's crowding you. It's nothing like the movies, in fact, the closer he gets to you, the more you're able to see the shyness in his eyes. He reaches out, and his hand ghosts over your side.

"Spence-" and the you that you were just an hour earlier, the one too scared to tell him the truth almost feels like she never even existed.

"Can I?" he asks, and your eyes drift to his hands that are inching closer to your body. You nod your head quickly, and he doesn't look amused. "I want to hear you." he says quietly. "I want you to tell me that I can." he adds, and you find yourself nodding anyway.

"Y-You can." you promise. "But I don't want you to pretend." his eyebrows furrow again. "Please don't do this if you don't mean it." you say, and Spencer's hands drop to your side, there's no wandering fingers, in fact it feels like he wanted to touch you for the sole purpose of keeping you from shaking any longer.

"Y/N, I want to be with you." he repeats it more firmly this time, and he's looking directly at you. It's intense, the eye contact more than anything else. He sounds sincere, and that makes you nervous.

"But what about..." and you trail off, because you don't know what to label the pretty woman he'd been entertaining. Spencer chuckles quietly, and his head shakes from side to side.

"She was nice." he reiterates the words he'd said three weeks prior. "But, she's not you... I don't think anyone would've been able to fill your shoes." he says, and you squeeze your eyes closed, because God, Spencer was so good with words. His hands are on your face, brushing at your cheeks as you shed a few long overdue tears. "Are these happy tears?" he asks hopefully, and your eyes shoot open. Your head nods, and you're not sure why you're so quiet.

Maybe, because life had thrown a curveball and surprised you in a good way. "Happy tears." you agree, and he presses his lips together, thumbs still working to keep the tears at bay. "I just can't believe-"

"Please do." he cuts you off, before you can get it out. "Believe this, believe me." he almost begs, and you hum. "Can I kiss you?" he asks, and you don't answer him, instead you surge forward and press your lips to his. You're certain security is getting a full view of the action, Spencer kisses like he wants to inhale you, and it's nice.. It's more than nice, his kisses are surged with emotion, every ounce of affection that his words had been drenched in was felt in the kiss.

Had breathing not been a factor, you might have stayed there. When you pull back to inhale, Spencer's got this twinkle in his eye that makes your nose scrunch up. "What?" you press, and he grins at you.

"You love me..." he breathes it out, and you're not sure if he's stating it or asking, but you suppose now that the cat's out of the bag, saying it again is nothing.

"Yeah. I love you, Spence." you promise, and he's quick to lean in and peck you on the lips. "D'you love me too?" you ask, once he's pulled back, and his hands move up, cupping both sides of your face as he drags his thumbs up and down.

"I love you." and it sounds like a promise.

So you believe him.

 "It’s a profoundly strange feeling, to stumble across someone whose desires are shaped so closely to your own, like reaching toward your reflection in a mirror and finding warm flesh under your fingertips. If you should ever be lucky enough to find that magical, fearful symmetry, I hope you’re brave enough to grab it with both hands and not let go.” ― Alix E. Harrow

[bomber-grl]

What being their crush is like

Pairing(s): Characters x Gn!Ninja!Reader (teammate)

Character(s): Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha

Naruto Uzumaki

An absolute fool for you

The only ways you could’ve caught this morons affections is by either being attractive or being kind to him back when you both first started out at the academy

Either way he’s absolutely smitten and so when he hears your name called out after his in class- he’s ecstatic that you’ll be on the same team

If you have a crush on someone else he’d be pretty bummed out but it won’t deter him

(He was especially motivated by sasuke and Sakura- it was just to get him away from them)

He’ll try to buy you ramen, flowers, honestly just anything to show you that he’s the most suitable suitor

Which couldn’t be further from the the truth (in the eyes of everyone else)

He’d be so open about liking you

Well, when he’s not around you

He’ll always talk about you and how wonderful you are- it’s so painfully obvious to any outsider looking in

And when someone brings up his more than obvious crush on you he’d flush and act as if they had gone mental

Like what

Also bonus points to you if you constantly back him up when he’s being teased and support his dream to be hokage

Literally +1000 points

Well a certain period of time passes and throughout said period he’s constantly flirting with you

How? Well he’s always complimenting your fighting/ jutsu and trying to ask you out on a date

If you are even slightly hesitant to respond

Like by a milisecond- then he’d rub the back of his head and laugh it off

Going on about how he was just joking and I don’t know what

Then one day you end up accepting

Which is funny because of the fact that he left a very traditional love note hidden somewhere he knew you’d fine

[insert you going home and finding it]

Literally not surprising to anyone and most people would assume that Naruto would confess boldly

But I disagree- he’d be pretty shy and uncertain despite his tendency to be reckless

If you accept or not will be up to you but the next time you see him he’s all awkward and stuff but still manages to try and play it off

It’s up to you to break the ice

Sakura Haruno

Again, Sakura likely started liking you because of your attractiveness

It was just a surface level crush until she saw that you had an actual good character

She’s so beyond happy that you’ll be on the same team, I’m not even exaggerating

You’re all in the same class and so as classmates you’re all bound to have crushes on the same people

That’s to say- a good amount of people also had a crush on you and the moment your name was announced alongside hers-

She just mentally imagined flipping them all and shoving it in their faces

Miss girl is honestly so sweet, she’s always trying to spend time with you and if you have any trouble with anything

E.g. ninjutsu, fighting, etc. she’ll always be there to help

Maybe a little too willing at times

Now, we all know that Ino and Sakura have had this rivalry and often banter

Well, all of a sudden (if Ino isn’t fighting over you) she’s probably making fun of you and being very loud about her opinion on you

It’s either that she thinks you and Sakura are a perfect match (negative) or that you’re terrible and not the best option (also negative)

Either way you’re catching strays

Sakura obviously gets riled up over this and tries to defend you no matter where or when

Which leads to you being there for Sakuras Chunin exams and experiencing the whole match

It’s an event that leads to character growth- but when she goes back she doesn’t expect you to be there waiting for her

She’s honestly flattered you’d wait for her and is mentally smug about it

When she flirts with you it’s honestly super obvious too

I can’t even deny that

Like at times she’d defend you and act as though you’re always right and idk what else (which is her odd way of flirting because she sort of stares)

And then sometimes she just opens up about private stuff around you during the quiet moments

Plus she also gifts you little trinkets- like flowers or something casual and small

Either way- when she confesses it’s probably spontaneous asf

Like you’re walking around at night and she gets this urge to just spill her guts

And she does

She’s basically like why the hell not be like Naruto

She’s super flushed and awaits your response right then and there

If you like her back and know it- that’s that

But if you tell her you need to time to figure it out then she’ll accept

Just know she’s lying awake at night wondering regretting it

Sasuke Uchiha

He acts super neutral towards you

Which wouldn’t be an obvious pointer that you’re his crush towards the average person but cmon

He’s sasuke

So ofc it’s obvious he has a crush on you

Honestly the only way I’d see him having a crush on you would be if you were close to him pre massacre and have been by his side since forever

(Unless you’re willing to wait the long game *cough*cough* slow burn)

He’d be pretty dependent on you while also being super independent

It’s honestly confusing sometimes

When it comes to the whole you being apart of his team, he doesn’t feel a particular way about it

(Or so he tells himself)

He’d try so hard to be nonchalant around you

Like not even joking

But if someone insults you or does something slightly disrespectful- he’s giving them the death glare

And then excuses it with just being annoyed by (more often than not) Naruto

Since he usually pokes fun at ppl and stuff

(If you didn’t know him before the academy and even if you did) He’d probably admire your skills and how smart you are

Like he’d watch you from afar and is honestly jealous and simultaneously sees you as a rival

Again, super confusing.

The most affection you’d get from him at this stage is his (once in a lifetime) compliment about your fighting or something

Then he’d walk away

You’re left standing there super confused while he walks away with a light blush dusting his cheeks

He ain’t fooling nobody

He obviously feels super weird about having a crush on you because of his whole mission on finding his brother and -

Yea.

So even though he does like you more than he’d want to admit- he would never confess

Not likely

Which is what you thought

Until you find out that Sasuke left the village and there’s no point in trying to go after him or anything at all really

It’s a betrayal to you and everyone else

It’s dark by the time you get home and enter your room

You pick up this thing Sasuke had given you- his excuse? It wasn’t worth his time and so he had given it to you

You didn’t care much for his excuse and just kept it on your dresser

Upon closer inspection you noticed a paper sticking out and obviously took it out

It was a letter- one could argue it was sasuke confessing

He went on about how he liked was ok being around you and the paper note wasn’t all that long

Just a few lines (if any)

There was a rip towards the bottom and you were left wondering what it would’ve said

Spoiler - it was Sasukes actual confession that he cowardly ripped off and threw into a body of water, hoping you’d never find it

-

A/n: got a tad carried away