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starmieknight · 3 days ago

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Stars Align

Headhunters Pt. 1

17 Again AU: After a disastrous first day with the twins, Stan swears to do better as an uncle. But fate loves playing tricks on him and the magic 8-ball in the attic is more than it seems.

Now on top of having a pair of twelve year olds around the house while he tries to finish the portal and bring his brother home, Stan has to deal with being back in his seventeen year old body! Summer has never been weirder in Gravity Falls.

AO3 link

Concept Art

Legend of the Gobblewonker (Art)

Prologue, The Legend of the Gobblewonker (previous)

It was only with mild surprise that Stan woke up young again.

Gravity Falls weirdness wass unreliable on any given day. The state he was in didn't seem to be going away anytime soon.

So Stan grits his teeth and heads downstairs to make breakfast anyway. This is still fine. He was still fine.

He can't afford to keep the Shack closed another day, so he improvises his usual look a bit. The jacket stays even if it's a bit big on him and the shoulders aren't as filled out as they normally are. But he doesn't have to shove himself into the girdle and counts that as a win. Beneath the jacket he dons a plain white T-shirt and a pair of old jeans from the back of the closet.

They might have been Ford's at one time, though they seem kinda small...

Mabel calls his outfit 'hipster-business casual' when she sees him and he has no idea what that means.

Wendy is off work that day, leaving him without a teen-speak translator.

Absent-mindedly, Stan wonders if she'd caught sight of him yesterday at the lake.

Hopefully, she hadn't and the weirdness will be gone in the morning.

In all, the day turns out pretty uneventful ― aside from a few tourists giving him extra tips after tours.

They thought it was adorable that he was so interested in the 'family business' and laughed when he claimed he was well into his fifties.

Not with that baby face, they'd say.

Fine ― if they wanted to throw more money at him, he wouldn't complain.

Before long, the day is done and Stan eagerly shucks the blazer and his jeans in favor of boxers and a T-shirt.

He avoids the mirror, memories of Glass Shard Beach plaguing his every step.

He swears he can hear his mother on the other side of the wall, schmoozing some schmuck over the phone. Sees his father glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

Feels the phantom hands of his brothers on the stairs, Shermie's large and powerful on his shoulder while Ford tugs at his sleeve more hesitantly.

Stan shudders and leans against the hallway wall, squeezing his eyes shut against the memories.

He breathes deep and carries on, planning on joining the twins downstairs when the scent of dust and wax catches his attention.

A long-forgotten door beckons to him from down the hall, filled with waxy faces of celebrities and fictional characters.

Huh, he'd forgotten all about these guys.

Outside, he can hear Soos and the kids coming and can't resist the set-up for a good prank.

Having to hide in a dark, dusty room for a chance at a jump scare is worth it.

Stan cackles at the twins' screams before bundling them up in a bear hug.

"It's just me!" he crows joyfully. "Your Grunkle Stan!"

They scream once more out of reflex before settling down.

"Grunkle Stan, what is this place?" Mabel asked, flopping over his arm to stare upside down at the displays.

Dipper wriggles in his grasp, in danger of being dropped, before Stan sets them back on their feet.

"Behold ― the Gravity Falls Wax Museum!" Stan declares, proudly spreading his arms and spinning on his heel. A born showman even as a young man. "It was one of my most popular attractions... before I forgot all about it."

More like got creeped out by the things and hid them away so he didn't have to look at them anymore.

Like Ford's old room.

The loss of wax Abraham Lincoln makes him pout and whine, but Mabel is quick to offer a solution.

It's amazing to watch the kid work through the night, but when she refuses to stop and sleep, Stan puts his foot down.

He manages to get some food in her and gets her to take a nap, but the girl is too much like Ford to stay down for long. She'll be up soon and Stan will have his hands full.

------------------------

The next morning was... interesting.

This time, when Stan woke up as a teenager, he didn't question it and went about his business. Mabel was still passed out on the couch in the living room, fingers sticky with wax and glitter as she took a small break from her work. Stan puts her pancakes in the microwave and eats a quiet breakfast with Dipper, both of them too out of it to form proper conversation.

Stan didn't know if it was a side-effect of being a teenager again, but it was incredibly difficult to wake up before noon. His mind felt like it was running on empty until the sun reached its peak in the sky. On the other hand, it was easier to stay up at night. It'd work out in his favor when he got his hands on Dipper's journal. Whenever he could swing that.

The kid had it hidden well and never left it laying around in the Shack.

Stan could feel that the answers to getting his brother back were closer than ever and the set-back of keeping it secret at the same time was almost too frustrating to bear.

He huffed to himself and slumped down onto the couch outside, half dressed in his usual attire. The summer morning was turning out to be a hot one and he was already sweaty enough. The jacket stayed off, draped over the arm of the couch and in-reach in case a tour bus suddenly appeared.

A rustling around the side of the porch had him tensing instinctively, too many years on the streets and in nasty situations to let him relax for long. Even using his twin's identity didn't keep him safe from everyone after him. And with this face, it’d be even harder to keep convincing people he was the real Stanford Pines.

Stan slipped his hand into his jeans pocket, fingers sliding into his brass knuckles. Even in this body, they fit like a glove, the only consistent part of his life from the past 40 years. The knuckles had come with him from New Jersey, the one thing he'd ever chanced lifting out of his old man's shop.

The thought of Filbrick finding out that Stan stole from him was still a chilling one.

Stan positioned himself to watch the side of the porch as casually as he could, muscles lax in preparation to move whatever direction he needed to.

It probably wasn't the kids ― they were naturally noisy. So was Soos. The only other person who'd be hanging around the Shack was...

"Who are you?"

Wendy.

The girl really was cool as ice, merely raising a curious brow as Stan explained his plight.

"That's some freaky shit, man." She said finally, dropping onto the couch beside him instead of heading inside. The slacker. "But you've still got your memories, right? You're not just, like, mini-Stan Pines from 1940 or whatever?"

Stan pinned her with an irritated look. "How old do you think I am? You kids have no idea how age works."

"So?"

"And stop swearing! The kids are around here somewhere."

"They'll hear worse in high school."

"Yeah, but I ain't gonna have them go home talkin' like that and have their parents come up here to murder me."

"Would they even recognize you like that?"

Stan grew quiet, his brow furrowing as he stared into the treeline.

No, they wouldn't.

The last time he'd seen his nephew as himself and not using Ford's name had been back in 1972. Back when he really was seventeen.

Alex had been a baby back then, wailing in his grandmother's arms as Filbrick threw Stan into the street. He'd never known an uncle aside from Ford.

Or, at least, the man he thought was Ford. Alex had visited once when the Shack was still the Murder Hut. They'd spent the month fishing and riding the backroads through town, Stan teaching the kid how to drive and use bad pickup lines on girls.

It'd been the highlight of his thirties. He'd hoped it would be the same when the twins came down to visit.

It was turning out to just be weird.

"I'm sorry, man." Wendy said suddenly, drawing Stan out of his memories about a freckle faced kid with too many freckles to count.

"It's fine, kid." He sighed, rising to his feet and sliding on his jacket. "Go on and get to work. We've got customers to rip off."

Wendy hummed in agreement, her eyes sharp beneath their lazy lids. She held her tongue, though, and he was grateful for that much.

Mabel was missing from the couch when they came in, a nest of blankets the only indication that she'd ever been there.

"Kids?" He called, moving into the parlor. "Where'd you― GAH!!"

By some miracle, Stanford was standing in front of him. The twins and Soos crowded him, only that familiar face visible over the kids’ heads and grinning at him.

Which was weird.

Even when Ford smiled, he never looked like that. And he certainly wouldn't smile at Stanley.

"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel cheered, dripping glitter onto the hardwood. "What do you think of my masterpiece? I thought about recreating this new, young you ― but that would have been pretty confusing for the customers. Like a waxy twin!"

A waxy twin.

That's all it was.

Ford was still trapped on the other side of the portal, likely hurt and resenting Stan.

"Grunkle Stan? Are you... alright?"

Dipper crouched down next to him, brow furrowed in concern.

Stan sucked in a deep breath, vaguely acknowledging that he'd stopped breathing at the sight of what he'd thought was his brother. It wasn't Ford. Just a wax figure.

And the twins were looking at him strangely now. Time to redirect.

"Can a teenager have a heart attack?" He asked seriously before pasting on a cheesy grin. "Because that hunk is making my heart do flips!"

The twins laughed, the tension breaking as Soos helped Stan back up. It was strange how easily the handyman could lift him now, like he weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. And he handled him so gently. Like a child!

Stan remembered when Soos was the child, all chubby cheeks and wide eyes as he followed him around the Shack. Like a little baby duck.

He'd been a pretty cute kid, honestly.

Ugh. Being young again was turning him into a sap.

He needed to change the subject and Wax Stan had just given him the perfect idea.

"Kids," he grinned eagerly as he drew them near. Mabel had a light shining in her eye, apparently on the same wavelength as him. Dipper looked more skeptical. "The Wax Museum is back in business!”

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #stanley pines #stan pines #gravity falls stanley #gravity falls stan pines #grunkle stan #de aged Stan pines #de aging #my writing #17 again au #stars align

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friesian · 5 months ago

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feeling like im about to explode from stress due to this stupid fucking estate process.

#stress is getting me so bad im just consistently getting sick every day now lol #i want to go home. i want to hide in my room without feeling like im in the middle of everyones lives #i feel like such a fucking pest and too hard to handle. nonetheless overwhelmed. and everyone has their own issues and problems.#so i don't want to bother them with mine.#no one can really help me anyways in the process because im the sole heir other than offering advice.#im so so fucking tired.#ly talks

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navybrat817 · 2 months ago

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Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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irisinluv · 3 months ago

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Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? Pt 2

Part one

It was almost 2 minutes before I realized I was still dragging the crown prince behind me. I quickly dropped his hand and looked at him, not able to hide the embarrassment on my face. Listen- I’m committed to the bit. I WILL be the crazy jealous fiancé. But… I’m still human ok. I just dragged a full grown man down several halls and a flight of stairs while I spaced out thinking about how I’m gonna buy my cat premium wet food once I get back home to her.

It’s fine, I’m not flustered at spacing out about my cat, my characters just flustered because she’s been holding the hand of the man she’s obsessed with, that’s all!

“Well…. Did you still want to dine and take that walk?”

I expected him to scold me for my mistreatment of Cressida, grow irritated from me dragging him along like this. Instead, he chuckles and threads his arm in mine, and begins escorting me down the hall.

“Absolutely, have you dined outside by the roses yet? There’s this lovely pavilion that I am eager to hear your thoughts on.”

And that’s how I found myself under an impressive array of roses, all trained up and around a cozy dining area, creating a canopy of green and pink over an intimate tea table. The food was equally impressive, I had to keep reminding myself that the other me is used to this lavish lifestyle, to not gawk at the fancy tiny sandwiches and deserts.

“Well? Is everything to your liking? ”

I’m going off script here, how am I supposed to know how the villainess would react to a romantic scene like this?? If my “evil crazy” side isn’t supposed to be directed at him, and she’s usually kinda distant and unsure around him…. That means I should probably respond pretty curtly, polite, yet not really engaging. But…. I’ve already messed that up…. I guess I can be more genuine when it’s the two of us like this. He can think that this version of me is the facade, that I’m pretending to be pleasant, and then will start to see what a jerk “I” truly am when Cressida’s around. Besides…. I almost feel bad for the villainess. She really just seems like she was shy. Who knows- maybe, if given the opportunity, she really would have opened up more. It’s clear she loved the prince, and just didn’t know how to show it. So, with that thought, I made up my mind.

“It’s breathtaking! Roses are my favorite flower, and I’ve never seen so many kinds in bloom at once…. Plus the food and company leave little to be desired.”

There you go- slip in some subtle flirting! I’m not quite sure what time period this is supposed to be, but I get the impression flirting as bit more high class here, and I think I can have some fun with that.

“I’m glad, to be honest I was a bit flustered asking you to dine with me… you caught me quite off guard today, but in a good way.” He reaches his hand across the table and places it on my own, “I’d like to do this more often, you and I. I feel like the confines of our current arrangement have left us practically strangers, despite being engaged for several months already. I’m enjoying just being companionable with you, even if it’s just existing comfortably in the same room.”

Ohhhh, I know I’m the villain in this story but I can’t help but root for him- what a sweetheart! It’s so obvious he’s been lonely, I can’t wait for him and Cressida to fall in love and have a couple of kids that they’ll spoil rotten. And in the meantime…. Maybe I do have a bit of evil in me, because I’m going to selfishly enjoy this handsome man treating me to lunches under roses and reading in cozy libraries while I can.

“I know exactly how you feel your highness. Now, you mentioned a walk?”

We spent the afternoon laughing and chatting, and it felt nice to chat without worrying too much about my role. He asked me about that book I picked out earlier, and listened attentively as I caught him up with where I’m at in the plot. In turn, I asked about what papers he’s been signing, documents he’s been drafting, etc.

The only thing I had to do was send glares to any young ladies we passed, settling my hand on his arm possessively, and I saw their eyes widen and faces disappear behind fans as they whisper to one another. I can picture this illustrated in a manhwa- the nasty princess sinking her claws into the gullible prince… hopefully all these ladies will start gossiping and we can really cement this evil persona of mine now that Cressida’s here.

When we returned to our separate apartments, I explored my rooms a bit until servants came to get me ready for dinner, and I slipped back into the frigid bitch persona. The servant girls dressed me in a slightly stuffy gown, but I had to admit, I looked gorgeous. I sat stiff and straight as they did my hair, forcing myself to be the very picture of cold indifference. I then dismissively thanked them for their help, then sat there awkwardly as they stared at me like I was crazy.

Ohhhh shit…. The original story hadn’t prepared me for this. My character was a villain, yes, but a side character for the most part! How was she supposed to act towards her servants? I went over what I knew- the novel showed the villainess alone quite often, usually obsessing over Eric and plotting/stalking. It showed her with Eric, and how distant and awkward their relationship was when together. And then of course the numerous scenes with Cressida where the Villainess did all sorts of heinous things to the sweet girl. But… it never depicted her with servants, or even any friends or other nobles. Just… Eric and Cressida. Was other me not actually a bitch all the time? Am I being unnecessarily rude right now? Oh god I’m such an idiot.

The story is told through Cressida’s point of view- of course there’s more depth to my own character than I initially thought! The Villianess must be a misunderstood introvert! Unsure of how to act around her crush, she’s fiercely insecure and jealous of this new girl who doesn’t struggle the same way she does. When she notices the prince slipping from her grasp, she acts out against Cressida because she can’t bear to lose Eric!

As someone’s who’s worked minimum wage jobs and struggled with social anxiety most of my life, I try to be nice to the people just working to survive, but here I am acting like these poor women are the dirt beneath my shoe…. Ok. Um. Well they’re still standing there in shock, I can fix this….

“You really did a lovely job… my hair has never looked so gorgeous, you’re truly talented! And I think the prince will be very pleased with this choice of ribbon!”

There- I was nicer, and I brought it back to Eric, so I’m still the lovesick fiancé whose entire world is waiting for her in the dining room. I frowned as the servants scuttled out of the room with hurried excuses, all of them looking like they were about to faint. Damn it… I can’t believe I misread the relationship between us. I probably just ruined their night by being uncharacteristically rude. I’ve gotta learn their names next time…. Maybe ask them to help me eat some fancy pastries as an apology…?

I didn’t know it, but while I was lamenting how wrong I was about the Villainess’ character, the servants were all gossiping to the others about what had just transpired.

“You’re telling me she said THANK YOU!?”

“Yes!!! And then you should have seen how nervous she got! She just rambled, blurting out such a sweet compliment, and she even tied it back to the prince!”

“I had no idea how precious she was… I can’t believe I never realized she’s just shy! In a new place, all alone aside from her new fiancé…. Who I gather she’s got a bit of a crush on! Poor dear.”

“Ohh our sweet girl, I’m sure it must be hard bonding with the prince, when all you do is sit yards apart and hardly speak …”

“Well I may have some news about that… and it’s no wonder she was a bit flustered today, because I saw the two of them in the gardens today! They were both nothing but smiles- absolutely smitten with one another!”

“Such a lovely girl, and we never knew it all this time!”

Apparently, I had it backwards. The real villainess truly was a 2D, basic character. She was insecure and possessive over the prince, bullying Cressida half to remind her who Eric belonged to, half for the fun of it. But she didn’t let on to anyone about the true depth of her love for him. She didn’t gossip to her handmaid, didn’t ask the servants which dress he would like better. Simply acted as if they did not exist, hardly saying a word to them.

While I thought my blunt “thank you” was colder than they were used to, and then tried to smooth things over…. It was more words than they’d heard from me in the whole time I’d lived in the palace. They lapped it up and declared me their own shy little dove after that.

When I arrived to dinner, I realized why daily dinners weren’t exactly a bonding activity for the villainess and Eric. The table was massive, and only held two chairs, one at either end. It felt so…. Cold?

Eric had beat me there, and quickly stood up from his seat, waiting until I sat and a servant pushed in my chair to retake his own seat. He smiled at me and said,

“Good evening, princess.”

He had to project his voice slightly. It wasn’t like he was shouting or being loud, it was just the manner of speaking you use when talking to an elderly relative, clearer, and enunciating better so they could hear you.

I replied back, projecting my voice similarly, and found the conversation was, in fact, more awkward than it had been earlier. We ate our food mostly in silence, occasionally one of us would say something and the other would stop moving their utensils on their plate, listening closer as they ask,

“What’s that?”

By the time dinner was over and we each went to bed, I felt drained. I could have just been louder I suppose- but it’s so hard to keep up a conversation like that. I know we get along- we had chatted all afternoon after all. But some part of me realized it’s probably good to keep a bit of distance between us, even if I’ve rewritten things to be a bit chummier between the two of us. Cressida needs to swoop in and steal him from me… and my job is still to leave that room for her to do so.

It’s hard trying to be someone else, yet also making sure you lead the plot in the right direction- it’s exhausting! I feel like both director and actress!

It’s with this in mind that I launch myself into the softest bed I’d ever felt, and passed out. My first day as princess consort, the Yandere fiancé, complete.

While I was getting acquainted with my feather bed, Eric was speaking with the head waitstaff.

“Yes, tomorrow, would you mind adjusting the seating situation? I’d like for the princess consort and I to be closer together from now on. Yes, and ask my assistant to arrange my schedules like so, I’ve detailed it here. Thank you.”

At the same time, Cressida was recounting her run in with the prince and I to her handmaiden as she finishing unpacking and settling into her family’s guest apartments. Which, unbeknownst to me… was right across the hall.

Aaaa! You survived your first day! And look at you- doing suuuuch a good job staying true to character. Nothing could go wrong… right?

Tag list for the series;

@bitternsweet @tonightwrites @confused-they @lanxianschoenheit @poptrim @siriuslyobsessedwithfiction @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @anonymousdisco @forbidden-sunlight

Tag list closed! Stay tuned for part 3!

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dcxdpdabbles · 22 days ago

Note

Interdimensional FMK (fuck, marry, kill)

The High King of the Infinite Realms (aka Danny “I’m either gonna marry my childhood best friend or die alone again” Fenton) was assigned the judge and now ghosts are teaming up to present three candidates from each of their favorite dimensions to present for the game. A ghost from the DC comics Dimension (cough cough Deadman) nominates that the candidates for his dimension should be heroes from the Justice League!

In his defense, the last time they did this game the previous king didn’t actually SUMMON the candidates.

Danny’s best friends married each other so now his subjects are desperately trying to get him to enter the dating scene again because he’s being mopey and the last time the ghost king had a broken heart he turned into a tyrant.

"My King, would you like to play a game while we wait for the Goblins' to get their computer to work?" Asks a man in a circus outfit, his voice ringing over the crowd waiting in line to have an audience.

Danny fights not to scowl, already fed up with today's duties. He knows it's essential to give his people time to speak to him so that their worries about him becoming a tyrant can be addressed and put to rest, but recently, it feels like everyone, including their mother, wants to marry him off.

Oh, they hide it in some issue about the zone, but somehow, it always turns back to "Have you found a spouse, Your Highness?"

It was worse than going home for Thanksgiving. At least there were only his distant family members who did not know about Danny's rule. They just all assumed he was living off his parents, jobless and uneducated.

His parents and sister did their best to tell them off, which was a nice defense, but Danny had no issue snapping back at them. He really liked to rub his aunt's divorce into his face whenever she started, as she believed his sister was better than Danny in every way.

But that was family. He was allowed to be disrespectful when they were disrespectful. As King Phantom, the high ruler of the Ghost Zone, he can afford to be less than regal.

Danny attempts to ease back on his sicky-sweet smile to stop twitching at the edges as he responds. "I don't think that would be appropriate. The Goblins' technical problems are not their fault, and taking my attention away from them would be rude-"

"We don't mind!" One of the little creatures cuts in. He was the ambassador sent to speak about his people's expansion request. "We almost got the system back up anyway."

Dang it.

"Alright. What is the game?"

"It's a really popular one back in my home dimension." The circus man says, floating over the people who all suspiciously let him pass without complaint. They planned this, the rats. "FMK. It stands for-"

"Fuck, Marry, Kill," Danny interrupts, smiling at the surprise on the ghost's face. He sometimes forgets that nearly none of his subjects know he is human or that he commutes from said Earth. Despite his very obvious modern terminology, they all assume he's as old as Clockwork. "I have played before."

"Oh, well, great! Wonderful! I was thinking FMK for Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman, " the ghost says nervously, rocking his heels. "I can describe them for you if you need me to?"

Danny blinks at the offer before he snaps his fingers and calls upon the powers of the Observers. Images of the mentioned people flash through the grand hall, showcasing their events. It seems like they were heroes of some kind—the fond memories that bring—and because the ghost had used their code names, only events within costume were displayed.

He learned this little trick during his second year of being on the throne after the council of eyeballs attempted to regain their power over the Zone.

It was nice to show them that Danny didn't need them. He could easily do his job, and he reminded them every day that they remained in the council on his goodwill alone.

Mutters of wonder echoed through the room as his subjects swung their heads around, trying to see the three heroes simultaneously. Danny smiled as one particular ghost split his head into two so he could watch Superman and Batman at the same time.

Circus Ghost claps excitably. "What do you think, your highness?"

He hums, rubbing at his chin, considering the images. The entire room leans in closer as Danny's green eyes flicker from one hero to another, and then he snaps again.

"Kill." The images shift to only Superman. The crowd groans in disappointment. He's pretty sure he heard someone exchange some coins.

"Fuck" Woman Woman poses with her sword as the ground room is overwhelmingly filled with her image as various battles rage on. There are cheers from the ghosts.

"Marry" Batman stands majestically on top of the towers of his city, but unlike his comrades, the images shown for him are none of his fight scenes. Instead, they showcase how he and his various children interact. "I like a man who's good with children."

"Good to know," the circus man mutters, suddenly writing on a glowing green clipboard. The volume suddenly increases as everyone in the room starts speaking at once, bubbling excitement and anticipation floating into the air.

The Ghost King is just about to ask why they care so much about a silly game when a bright white flash runs through the room, leaving behind the very same heroes he was just speaking about. They look confused to be in the room of the undead, obviously just been summon against their will.

Superman has a half-eaten donut in his mouth and is holding onto steaming mugs that the other two were about to grab.

Danny's face spams, but no one seems to pay attention to it because Circus Man races up to Batman and throws an arm over his shoulder. "Your Highness, you have chosen contestant number 3! He's Gotham's dark defender, father of nine, and one hell of a detective. Give it up for Batman!"

"Deadman, what is the meaning of this?" Woman Woman demands as the crowd erupts into cheers.

"I will explain later." Deadman- apparently, that's the ghost name he willingly chose?- promises but never takes his eyes off of the King. "First, Batman has a date with the Ghost King!"

"No," Batman growls. At the same time, Danny shouts, "Absolutely not!"

"But Great One, you need love. I know things have been rough since Samantha left you for Tucker." Out of all the ghosts that could have betrayed him, FrostBite speaks.

Danny gawks at him, sputtering, "It was a mutual breakup! We dated as teenagers, and Sam got with Tucker in our mid twenties! I'm thirty!"

"My King." The yeti says gravely, "Do not lie."

"For Clockwork's Sand! This is worse than my parent's house!" Danny groans, covering his face with his hand. "Send the heroes back, please. I'm not dating Batman."

"But-"

"That's an order." He doesn't quite yell, but Danny puts every ounce of authorization, which is far more effective. FrostBite and Deadman immediately cower. Danny glares at them briefly before swinging his gaze to the waiting crowd. They flinch. "And the rest of you, if you pull another trick like this, Pariah Dark will look like a kitten compared to me."

"Wait-" Starts Superman, but the living are gone in another flash, cutting him off from whatever he was going to say. This is getting out of hand, and he's so tired of it. He needs a vacation.

He should visit Sam and Tucker, the two newlyweds who just moved to Gotham after Sam inherited her grandfather's company when her Grandmother passed. The last time they spoke, they were talking about a fancy gala hosted by Bruce Wayne.

He could go for a night of classy drinks and pretty men or women as a treat.

Danny sighs. "Now, what was that about the expansion?"

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Contestant number 3 #spirit halloween ship #When the entire Kingdom nags you about marriage #Danny needs a vacation #Clark was sharing his famous coffee and donuts when they were zapped #Deadman was trying to marry up his friends

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chrisbesitos · 3 months ago

Text

chris accidentally reveals that they're expecting a baby on a twitch live.

"Dude, I'm exhausted." Chris murmured grumpy. He and his brothers were in a Twitch live, even though it's only nine, he's already feeling tired.

"Then say goodnight everyone and go to sleep." Nick said scrolling on his phone.

"I wish, but Y/N is not home yet and I can't sleep without rubbing her pretty belly." Chris said without thinking, he forgot they were in a live and the viewers didn't know about Y/N's pregnancy.

"Chris!" Matt said hitting the back of Chris' head. Then he realized what he said, Chris immediately widened his eyes and his tiredness seems like disappear suddenly.

"Shit, I mean... I mean that I can't sleep without her, because... 'case she's my girlfriend and I love sleep cuddling her." He got lost in his words, Nick was hiding his face with his hands while he laughed about his brother's stupidity.

"Yeah, yeah. Move on." Matt said changing the subject, even though the viewers were asking in the comments section about this.

Eventually, they ended the Twitch live and Chris knew that he was fucked. Y/N would be mad at him for telling in live they're expecting, even though it's was an accident. Later she got home from work and she seems really, really mad.

"Oh man, you're dead." Matt said while he laughed and left for his room, Nick was already on his.

"Baby, you're home!" Chris said trying to change her mood, but she just looked at him with an angry look. Her eyes were so pretty, even when they seemed to catch fire. "I swear I didn't mean, I'm sorry, baby."

"I can't believe you did that, Chris!" Y/N said, she left her purse on the kitchen table and crossed her arms while Chris trie do hug her.

"Maybe they don't catch."

"Chris, they are already asking on my dm and on my comment section if I'm pregnant. Of course they catch." Y/N now seems more upset then angry, she sighed and pull the chair to seat. Chris started to massage his girlfriend's shoulders, knowing that she was needing that now.

"I'm really sorry, you know I didn't want to get you upset." Chris gave her a kiss on the forehead, slowly moving his hands from her shoulders to her belly. "I just love spending the night with my girls and it's really true that I can't sleep without rubbing your belly."

"I know, I just wasn't ready for a soft launch." Y/N relaxed a bit, letting her body being hugged by her boyfriend warm arms. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to overreact."

"No, no! It's my fault, not yours." Chris said. "I'm gonna run you a bath, seems good? Do you want me to order something for you? I'll do whatever you want."

Y/N just murmured softly, Chris always know how to make her feel better. And she knows he'll be a great father for their baby, even when he talks without thinking, he is still the best.

Lately that night, Chris posted a picture in his Instagram story, now with her consent. His head laying in her beautiful belly and her hand slowly massaging Chris' hair.

join my taglist!

#chrisbesitos 𝜗ৎ #chris sturniolo #madison beer #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #madison elle beer #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo triplets x reader

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churipu · 8 months ago

Text

BEAUTIFUL FEATURES 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing on gojo :)

note. while i'm working on chapter 5 of my killswitch lullaby series, i'm gonna upload something because i just got home from a get together with my big family, and part 5 of killswitch lullaby is still halfway done :(

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"you have freckles."

averting your eyes to gojo through the mirror in the bathroom, you nodded, "mhm, they've always been there," it's not like you've made them noticeable — so the reaction was expected, you never really liked them.

"why did i just notice them?" he asks, leaning his shoulder onto the doorway, "i mean — they look really pretty y/n."

pretty didn't sit well with you, especially not when you grow up hating that certain feature. chuckling out softly, you raised a brow, "they're not pretty, they're weird, 'toru."

the male blinks, "who said that?"

"everyone else but you—" he scoffs, throwing his face to the side with a lop-sided smirk, "what? why are you laughing?"

gojo shakes his head in denial, "fuck what they think — i think they're pretty, and they suit you. why would you hide it?" the blue eyed male watches your every move as your fingers pressed on the skin colored cushion onto your skin, sealing away the beautiful dots gracing across your cheeks.

"because i feel better without them." you nonchalantly answered, patting the cushion a few times to flatten the foundation. your freckles immediately drowned under it, disappearing from sight.

gojo was silent, his face was indescribable — and you don't know what he had in mind next. frankly, he's a little angry. not at you, anyone but you. the male then stepped towards you, throwing an arm around your waist, "can i ruin your make up just the slightest bit . . ?"

"yes, but 'm not going to talk to you for the rest of the day . . . or two."

the blue eyed male chuckled, but he wasted no time wrapping his slender fingers around your wrist, peppering gentle kisses across your cheeks, right over the semi-wet foundation — leaving traces of his lips on your face. gojo didn't even care about the sticky substance graved on his lips.

pulling back, he seemed satisfied at his work of art. your make up ruined almost completely as your foundation was smeared away, the smooth layer now barely even there at all, and all was left was trails of his kisses over your sun kissed freckles.

"you're so beautiful, i'd kiss you right now — but i wouldn't want to get foundation in your mouth," he whispers, instead of leaning into your lips, he pressed his foundation laced lips along your forehead, engraving his lips on your skin.

"you're so cheesy—"

"way to ruin the moment, y/n. really great! you're lucky i love you," he grazed his thumb over his art, wiping away your foundation, "i love you and everything about you."

smiling lightly, you nod, "i love you too."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami traced his finger on your skin behind your ear, the tip of his finger grazing over the same spot again and again. his eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit, "what happened here?"

you glanced at him, "hm? what happened where?" the male didn't answer, but his finger traced your skin — specifically, where your birth mark laid. and he blinked slowly, "oh, i forgot about that. nothing happened there, 'ts my birth mark."

the male nods his head. his eyes never leaving the darker spot behind your ear, "i never knew you had one . . ." he mumbles out, a little upset he's never noticed such a beautiful feature on you through out the time he has been with you.

"i didn't want you to," you replied back.

nanami retracted his hand back, "are there any reasons why?"

craning your neck to face him, your e/c eyes averted around the room. anywhere but right at his eyes, "um . . . i don't think that my birth mark is an important feature, you know where i'm coming from?"

nanami in fact didn't, "unfortunately, not."

"i just don't think it's nice to look at," you tell him the truth, chuckling, "but i actually forgot that i had that behind my ear for a bit."

once again, his fingers flew to trace your birth mark, admiring it silently. strands of your hair gets tangled in between his fingers at the action, but the male wasn't pulling on it, "it's beautiful. you're beautiful."

"think so?" you asked.

nanami didn't answer you, but his hand cupped your face gently, pulling you close and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. it was a short kiss, but it was full of admiration and love, "i do. i mean it," he states out, gazing into your eyes.

"i love you, ken. you know that, right?"

"i love you more, y/n. you know that, right?"

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈��𝐔𝐑𝐎

you'd think that your boyfriend wouldn't notice the way you strain back your smile from engulfing your face? frankly, thinking megumi wouldn't notice was something stupid — megumi notices everything, especially things about you. his partner.

"why do you do that?" he questions, leaning back onto the wall.

raising a brow at him in confusion, you replied back, "do what?"

"straining back your smile — why don't you just . . . smile?" his voice was quiet, but there was something behind it. not anger, not disappointment; megumi was just confused, was it something that he should be concerned about?

even if it wasn't, he is already concerned.

his question left your mind a little hazed, wondering if you should tell him the truth or just lie your way out of this. but (thankfully), you ended up with the first choice, "i didn't want to deepen my smile lines, they look weird."

now it was megumi's mind swirling with different questions, "smile lines? why— what? what?" he mutters under his breath — mind a little disintegrated.

"it leaves a mark behind, i don't like it—"

"you look fine." he cuts you off, "you have a nice smile, don't hold it back."

coming from someone like megumi, you thought it might have been the greatest compliment you have ever gotten the whole entire year. the first genuine smile popped out on your face after a bit, the apple of your cheeks rounding as you beam out at the male in delight, "really? you mean that?"

megumi sighs, nodding, "really."

"that means a lot to me, gumi. thank you," the male blinked — he wasn't sure what had gotten you so happy, surely it wasn't his compliment, is it?

it is, "yeah."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #nanami kento #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x reader

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chosok-amo · 3 months ago

Note

hi I see you want a request! hb some angst to comfort !drunkgojoxreader where he always shows up drunk confessing his feelings but then acts normal when he’s sobered up. Reader is tired of mixed signals and ends up going on a date with someone when gojo happens to visit sobered up

you can do whatever you want if u happen to be inspired! Hope this helps you get out of your funk

“OH, MY LOVER IS DRUNK” : GOJO SATORU

you and him, you were supposed to be best friends— supposed to. but neither you nor gojo can't keep the feeling of falling. he tries to deny the feeling so hard that he has to drown himself with alcohol, the thing he loves the least, just to forget the feeling, only to come back to you every time he is drunk.

w/c 4.5k

warning : drunk! gojo satoru, non-sorcerer gojo!, angst.

p.s thank you for giving me a chance to write you something, and I'm sorry it took me long enough to write this :'), but i hope you enjoy it! (i don't think i make this angst enough for my liking)

fanart credit to the owner.

it was a tranquil night, the moon casting a soft, ethereal glow through your apartment windows, bathing the room in a gentle light. though the clock read 3:00 AM, sleep eluded you, your mind too restless to find peace. lying on your cold bed, you stared at the ceiling, each pattern and shadow playing tricks on your eyes in the dim light. the blanket was draped neatly up to your stomach, its weight a comforting presence against the chill of the night.

your hands lay flat on top of the blanket, fingers nervously tapping the back of the other hand in a slow, rhythmic cadence. the silence of the night seemed to amplify every tiny sound: the soft rustle of the sheets, the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the apartment, the almost imperceptible hum of the city outside. despite the stillness, a storm of thoughts churned within you, each one keeping you wide awake and alert, as if anticipating something just beyond the horizon.

you were anticipating something, no— more likely, someone. that someone, neither your boyfriend nor your anything, he just likely is a more sinister thing, disguised as a best friend, unfortunately. sinister thing, you describe him, where a silver thread lies between you and him— a bright and bold, tale of your love, gojo satoru.

he is, my sinister thing’ you thought.

you were adrift, suspended in the air, with no destination, no specific place to call home. you existed in a state of limbo, neither firmly standing nor lying down, hovering in a liminal space. your presence was neither filled with love nor marked by the experience of being in love.

you were perpetually caught in a paradox, always existing in a state of “neither,” but never fully reaching a place of clarity or resolution. your existence was defined by an absence of definitive states or emotions, perpetually undefined and drifting, forever caught between the edges of presence and absence.

it was always waiting, waiting, and waiting.

just like how the night before, and before, and right now, waiting in your bed for him to knock— and when he does, you, mindlessly, like you're in ecstasy running a little by little in the middle of the night to open your door, without realizing there's another door you open— your heart.

stumbling, drowning in a sea of alcohol he hates, gojo satoru walks in. and you, like the idiot you are, guide him to your barely-fits-for-his-over-six-feet -ass couch, comfortably lying him there.

“careful,” you whisper through the night.

your warm hands meet with his cold ones, gripping you as if he's holding on for his dear life. you drape his body with a blanket, big enough for you to shield not only his physical form but also the emotions he holds for you, hidden beneath the warmth, hide his love for you, not that you need to know. gojo‘s blue eyes are warm, and dull as they indulge softly in the moonlight and gentle glow from your little lamp on the cover of your living room, appear soft and subdued.

you find yourself seated on the cold, hard floor, while gojo stretches out on your couch, facing you with a look of serene contentment. his handsome face is illuminated by a crooked yet mesmerizing smile, a testament to his charm even in his inebriated state. his hands, chilled and seeking, grip yours with a familiar desperation, yearning for the warmth you effortlessly provide.

this nightly ritual has become a part of your routine—gojo, drinking away his soul, stumbles through your door, his steps wavering yet purposeful. he collapses onto the couch, and you remain on the floor, the quiet observer of his vulnerable confessions. as he speaks of his love for you with a fervor that seems to swell with each passing moment, it’s as if he fears losing you with the break of dawn.

he loves like you’re the very essence of his existence, the heartbeat of his every moment. his affection is a force that shapes his world, a flame that burns eternally in his soul. to him, you are the embodiment of all his dreams and desires, the one who makes every day brighter and every night more meaningful. his love for you is not just a feeling but a profound truth that defines his very being.

when the alcohol fades and his clarity returns, he resumes his usual demeanor, leaving behind only the tender echo of his heartfelt declarations and the gentle imprint of his touch on your hands. he pretends, gojo satoru likes to pretend.

“always so beautiful,” he whispered, his smile fading as his eyes wandered over every contour of your face. he traced the delicate path of each freckle, every mole, and the subtle lines that marked the passage of time, memorizing every exquisite detail in his heart. his cold hand gently cupped your cheek, sending a chill across your skin that mingled with the warmth of his gaze, as if he were imprinting the essence of your beauty into his soul.

he draws your entwined hands closer to his chest, where his heart, in truth, has always belonged to you. from the very first moment you met, it was never his alone; it has been yours from the start. as your palm rests against his chest, you can feel the soft, steady beat of his yours heart, buried beneath his flesh—an intimate rhythm that pulses with calm and a tender, unselfish devotion.

a small smile graces your lips as you rest your chin on the couch, gazing deeply into his eyes and letting yourself be enveloped by their depth. “i’m in love with you,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with intoxicated. “so in love that i can’t remember a time when i wasn’t, as if my soul has adored you since the dawn of everything,” you listen to his heartfelt confession, witnessing the gradual collapse of his defenses, and your eyes shimmer, heart-shaped.

gojo chuckled softly, his voice thick with intoxication. “do you recall the first and last time we made love? your lips on my neck, since that day, your mouth has been nothing but heaven,” his words tumbled out in a drowsy, slurred cadence.

you, too, remember that day with crystal clarity; it is etched deeply in your mind, an indelible memory that clings to your thoughts like a cherished, haunting presence. each detail, every sensation, has become a permanent part of you, woven into the very fabric of your being. the memory of his touch and the sweetness of his kiss linger, a profound and enduring echo that remains with you always.

you still can feel his touch on your skin.

“of course you don’t know,” he whispered, his voice heavy with the weight of intoxication, as his thumb traced gentle patterns across your cheek. “and i’ll gladly take the blame for that,” he continued, his words slurred with inebriation, “i-i kissed your hair while you slept in the morning,” his giggle, light and childlike, bubbled up with a carefree delight. “i wonder if you ever knew.”

you shake your head gently, a small, small smile touching your lips, just a little. you wouldn't dare to open your mouth, oh, you wouldn't dare. to speak would risk breaking the spell of his drunken state, causing him to sober up and retract the love he has so freely and vulnerably shared. the thought of him withdrawing those tender confessions and retreating into the safety of his guarded heart is a fear too profound to bear. because at that time, it's all you have, his drunkenly confession.

so you remain silent, savoring the warmth of his affection as it envelops you, clinging to this fleeting intimacy as if it were a precious secret. afraid that when the dawn’s approach looms, threatening to sweep away the ephemeral beauty of his heartfelt revelations, leaving only the ghost of his love behind.

it's a frightening, haunting, spine-chilling sensation that grips you, filling you with an aching dread, so you remain silent. because maybe, in those three am confessions are your only salvation. just like a dark mirror to cinderella’s tale, your reality is sinking down from the ceiling, swallowing you whole when he sobers up when the sun hits your cheeks warm.

“oh, god, i love you so much. . .” he whispered, his voice laden with vulnerability as he clutched your hand tightly, pressing it against his chest. “this love i feel—it terrifies me. i'm scared for the love i have for you, it seems so powerful, like it could burn me alive or utterly ruin me. even so, i know that i’ll let it be, but fuck. . . i'm so scared.” his breath was uneven and strained, each gasp revealing the depth of his fear.

his eyes, gleaming with the weight of his emotions, flickered with a poignant brilliance before finally closing. as he drifted into unconsciousness, the full embrace of the alcohol took hold, and the tender confessions of his heart were swallowed by the enveloping darkness.

you remain in quiet contemplation, letting his heartfelt words gently seep into your thoughts. you extend your arm along the edge of the couch, laying your cheek softly against it as you gaze at gojo’s tranquil, slumbering face. his lips, tender and slightly swollen, and his cheeks, flushed a soft, rosy hue reminiscent of crushed cherries from the effects of the alcohol, form a serene portrait of vulnerability.

in the gentle light, his features are softened by the peacefulness of sleep, creating a stark contrast to the emotional intensity of his earlier confessions. the calmness of his face, so vulnerable and exposed in repose, contrasts beautifully with the passionate turmoil of his words.

as you watch him, the room seems to hold its breath, enveloping you both in a tender silence that honors the depth of the moment. the delicate interplay of light and shadow highlights the serene beauty of his sleep, allowing you to cherish the profound intimacy of this quiet, shared space.

when the morning comes, he'll sober up, and the alcohol will have faded from his system, washed away by the sunlight along with his love for you. he'll blame the alcohol in case he said anything foolish, and you? oh, you would find yourself blaming the moon, even the sun, because it's breath away the day for night to come, for casting hope into your soul, into your heart, and also crushing it at the same time in the harsh light of dawn. leaving you to grapple with the fragile hope that was both a blessing and a burden.

it was cruel, worse than cannibalism. you could have borne the agony of having your flesh consumed, but not the ravaging of your soul and heart, oh please, not my heart’ you would plead into the darkness as night falls. you were scared too, not because of loving gojo satoru, loving him is as natural as breathing, but because of the depth of your devotion— you are scared your devotion would turn violent. your devotion would make you believe him like a god, and he'll betray you like a man.

yet, despite the pain, you find yourself eternally awaiting the arrival of night, longing for those confessions whispered at 3:00 AM, even knowing they will leave you shattered by morning’s light. each dawn brings the same heartache, and today is no different.

you awaken to the insistent chime of your notification, your eyes fluttering open to the stark emptiness of your apartment. the couch where gojo once lay is now vacant, the space where he slept cold and unwelcoming. the blanket he used before now wrapped around you, carries no trace of his warmth. the comfort it once offered has dissipated, leaving behind only a hollow chill and the echo of his absence.

your grip tightens on your phone, the pressure biting into your hands, but it’s a mere shadow of the pain coursing through your heart. suddenly, the dam within you gives way, and a torrent of tears spills down your cheeks, cascading like a relentless river. the exhaustion of navigating gojo’s endless emotional games weighs heavily upon you, a suffocating burden that leaves you breathless.

you don't want anything, the only thing you want can't be bought with money. if i ask for your heart will you give it to me?’ you mock yourself. what a fucking loser.

“oh god. . .” you whisper, forehead touching the floor as you wailing in silence.

you feel foolish for clinging to the hope that, perhaps this time, he might remember, that he might repeat the tender words of the night before. yet, as each morning dawns with the same emptiness, your heart aches with the weary realization that your hopes have been in vain, leaving you to grapple with the sorrow of unfulfilled dreams.

the evening was settling into a serene quiet, your apartment softly illuminated by the warm glow of your lights. you were almost ready for your date, anticipation mingling with a sense of hope as you made final adjustments to your outfit. watching yourself in the mirror, you realize how dull your eyes are, losing their spark. after everything, you decided to bury your feelings beneath your flesh until only you know your love for gojo satoru.

a knock at the door disrupted your preparations, and when you opened it, gojo stood there, sober and uncharacteristically subdued. his eyes, usually brimming with playful energy, now reflected a deep, almost mournful sadness.

“hey,” he said, his voice softer just like always. he glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on the subtle details of your evening preparations—the carefully chosen attire, the delicate scent of perfume, and your eyes, those bright, beautiful eyes.

you moved through your bedroom, selecting accessories and adjusting your outfit, each motion a quiet ritual in the evening’s anticipation. gojo watched from the doorway, his gaze fixed on you with a deep, almost reverent intensity. his silence spoke volumes, a contrast to the usual banter that characterized your interactions.

gojo’s voice, tinged with an unexpected vulnerability, broke the silence. “where are you going?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of concern and hurt.

you hesitated, caught between the desire to protect both his feelings and the truth. his gaze, usually so playful and intense, now bore a raw, wounded quality. the gravity of the question hung heavy in the air, and you could feel the weight of the decision you had to make.

“i’m—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. you could see the hope flickering in his eyes, mingled with the pain of realization. you knew that this was more than just a casual question; it was a plea for understanding, for clarity amid his confusion.

he took a step closer, his usual nonchalance replaced by a genuine yearning to grasp the reality of the situation. “i just want to know,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, “where you’re going. what’s tonight for you?”

you looked at him, your heart aching with the weight of his unspoken fears. the room felt charged with the intensity of the moment, every detail amplified by the quiet desperation in his voice.

“i’m going out with someone,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “tonight is… it’s meant for someone else.”

the words hung in the air, their impact palpable. gojo’s face fell, the light in his eyes dimming as he took in the truth of your plans. he nodded slowly, the understanding settling over him with a heavy sadness.

“i see,” he said quietly, a bitter edge to his tone as he took a step back, giving you space. “i didn’t realize…” the finality of his words and the desolate look on his face were almost too much to bear.

you hesitated, unsure of how to respond, but before you could answer, his gaze wandered over you with a mixture of admiration and sadness. “you look…” he started, his voice faltering slightly as he struggled to find the right words. “you look really beautiful tonight.”

his eyes roamed over your outfit, the careful details you had chosen, and the way the light caught in your hair. there was a softness in his gaze that spoke of more than just physical appreciation— it was as though he was trying to hold onto every fleeting moment, every detail of this evening as if to etch it into his memory.

“you always look beautiful,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “but tonight. . .. tonight it’s different. you’re. . . breathtaking.” the sincerity in his words was palpable, mingling with the unspoken sadness in his eyes. he didn’t move, didn’t retreat from the moment. instead, he stood there, quietly observing, letting his admiration and affection fill the space between you.

“i didn’t mean to intrude,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving you. “i just wanted to see you one more time. before you go.”

the room felt heavy with the weight of his gaze, the emotional intensity of his words. you could feel the ache in his eyes, a mixture of admiration and longing, as he took in every detail of your appearance. the compliment, so genuine and heartfelt, seemed to hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the affection he still held for you.

“it's okay,” you nodded softly, gazing at him from your mirror with a little smile, kissing your lips. the date was meant to be an escape, a chance to move forward, but it felt like an endurance exercise.

your date was polite and engaged in conversation, but there was an undeniable disconnect. every word spoken seemed to drift past you, a mere backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts that consumed your mind. the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the casual chatter all felt hollow, lacking the vibrancy you had hoped for.

as the evening progressed, the sparkle of the city lights and the charm of the venue did little to lift the weight on your shoulders. the conversations felt superficial, the moments fleeting and unremarkable. you smiled and nodded in response, but your thoughts were miles away, tangled in the memories and the lingering presence of gojo.

you couldn’t help but replay the images of that earlier moment—gojo’s earnest eyes, the softness of his compliments, and the way his gaze had followed you with such unspoken longing. his presence had imprinted on your heart so deeply that everything else seemed to fade in comparison. the way he had watched you, the tenderness in his voice, and the painful silence after he had left all resurfaced in your mind, casting a shadow over every interaction of the evening.

the date dragged on, each passing minute feeling like an eternity. you forced yourself to remain engaged, but the thought of gojo’s unspoken words and the gentle way he had looked at you overshadowed everything. you were caught in a cycle of longing and regret, unable to escape the grip of your own emotions.

as you stepped out of the restaurant, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the evening. your mind was still heavy with the weight of the date's emptiness, and the city lights seemed dimmer as you walked towards your car.

just outside, by the entrance of the restaurant, you noticed a familiar figure leaning against a lamppost. gojo stood there, his posture relaxed but his eyes scanning the crowd with a determined focus. as your gaze met his, his face softened, revealing a mix of relief and something deeper.

there you are, beautiful, mellow you. walking alone looking pretty in that silk dress that you should be wearing for him, not the other man, him. seeing you so breathtakingly beautiful makes gojo satoru want to crash into every piece of you, and fuck, he swears to god, that's how stars are born.

“hey,” he said softly, pushing himself off the lamppost and walking towards you. the usually playful tone in his voice was replaced by a sincere warmth. “i thought i might catch you before you left.” you stopped in your tracks, a flutter of surprise and emotion rising within you. “satoru, what are you doing here?”

you're in front of him, eyes glimmering under the lamppost and the moon. gojo wants to run, to bury himself under the ground, or just tell you to stop looking at him with those eyes. stop touching me with your eyes’ he thought.

“i-i. . .”

even so, his eyes never leave yours, shaken as he tries to swim into your orbs. how its color slightly changes under the lamppost makes it even harder for gojo to speak as if the ground is a new language for him, and suddenly, he forgets everything he knows about gravity.

“please love me. .” he whispered, throat dry.

for a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes widened in astonishment. your heart is pounded with a frantic rhythm, faster than the fall of distant stars, yearning to escape its confines and find its way into gojo’s hands. it ached with a longing so intense that it felt almost unbearable.

the pain of desiring something so profoundly—something you’ve never truly known—made you question why your heart should yearn for a home it has never experienced. yet, despite never having been there, it cried out with an ineffable need to be held by him.

it was always his and never been yours since day one, but he already holds onto your soul with an unrelenting grip and your heart— your only refuge, is all you ever had to keep living. you can't live your life if all you ever had is just merely flesh and bone.

“satoru, are you drunk?”

“no—” he shook his head, fast enough to hold both your hands and bring them closer against his chest, where his heart was beating faster, also begging to be handed to you. “i'm in love with you, y/n. i'm sorry i always pretend like i don't remember in the morning, but please. . . i don't dare to, maybe if i love you less it would be easier for me to talk, but fuck—”

he paused for a moment, and in that suspended breath, your only fear was the possibility of him retracting his heartfelt confession. the weight of his unspoken words hung in the air, and you found yourself dreading the loss of such a precious revelation. the thought of him pulling back, of his feelings fading into silence, was the only shadow that cast fear over your heart.

so you shook your head, “no, don't stop,” you plea.

gojo swallows his pride, he feels pathetic. but he would bear the life long of feeling pathetic if it is meant to have your eyes on him, to have your skins and bones knit with his then so be it. “i love you—oh god, i fucking love you, in the purest, chaste, most victorian sense,” he says, laughing softly. “even a mere glimpse of your ankle might be enough to drive me mad.” you can’t help but chuckle along with him.

his hands enveloped yours with a desperate intensity, holding them as if they were the very essence of his longing. “i love you,” he breathed softly, his voice mingling with the whisper of the night breeze. “i want every single one of your tomorrows.”

he guided your hands closer to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to your wrist, his touch both tender and reverent. his eyes locked with yours, revealing a depth of emotion that seemed to illuminate the darkness around you. the moment his lips left your skin, the faintest trace of coldness lingered, as if the warmth of his affection had left an indelible mark.

with a gentle but purposeful motion, his hands slid to your waist, drawing you nearer. his touch was both firm and delicate as he turned you around, guiding you until your back was nearly pressed against the lamppost. the soft glow of the streetlight bathed you both in a halo of light, casting long shadows and highlighting the closeness of your bodies.

in this intimate cocoon, the world seemed to fade away. the chill of the night, the warmth of his breath, and the quiet intensity of his gaze created a fragile moment of connection. his presence enveloped you, a promise whispered in the night air, as if he were claiming every future moment with you, even as the night deepened around you.

“please. . ..” he beg.

he leaned in, his face inches from yours, until his lips lightly brushed against your own. “please, love me,” he whispered once more, his voice tender and pleading. his warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

the proximity of his lips, the softness of his words, and the gentle warmth of his breath all combined to create a moment of intimate vulnerability. his plea hung in the air, laden with the depth of his emotions, as he sought to bridge the gap between your hearts.

as the world around you seemed to slow, gojo’s gaze lingered on your lips with an intensity that made your heart race. his fingers, still resting on your waist, drew you even closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. the soft glow of the streetlight cast a gentle halo around the two of you, accentuating the intimacy of the moment.

with a deliberate tenderness, he tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation built like a quiet storm as his lips inched closer, brushing against yours with a delicate, almost reverent touch. the kiss was soft at first, a gentle exploration that spoke of deep longing and unspoken desires.

his lips moved with a slow, deliberate grace as if savoring every second of the connection. the initial softness gave way to a deeper intensity, his kiss growing more passionate as he pulled you even closer. the world outside seemed to dissolve, leaving only the sensation of his lips pressed firmly against yours. his hands cradled your face, his touch gentle yet insistent, guiding the kiss with a blend of affection and need.

the warmth of his kiss seemed to infuse every part of you, a melding of hearts and souls that transcended words. when he finally pulled away, his eyes still locked onto yours, there was a look of profound contentment and vulnerability. the kiss lingered in the air between you, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the fragile, beautiful connection that bound you together.

as you slowly pull away from the kiss, your lips linger near his, you meet his gaze with a fierce resolve. “if you ever mock me or play with me,” you say, your voice steady yet charged with intensity, “i swear to god, satoru, i’ll fucking hunt you down.” the words hang between you, your breath mingling with his, a silent promise of the depth of your commitment.

gojo’s eyes spark with a playful glint as he hears your words. with a mischievous smile, he leans in, giving your lips a series of soft, teasing pecks. “i won’t,” he replies, his tone light and teasing, but with an undercurrent of sincerity. “i promise.” his playful demeanor contrasts with the intensity of your threat, yet his gentle touches and warm gaze convey a deeper assurance.

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unhingedgirlythings · 8 months ago

Text

FUCK IT

SUMMERY : Reader gets her date interrupted when Hotch calls up asking for her to get to the BAU. Reader rushes over still dressed up and a certain dr can’t keep her eyes off her teehee.

Tags:fem reader , a huge amount of awkwardness, reader is over her love life

A/N: I WANTED AWKWARD SPENCER REID, bare with me tho cuz I haven’t written a fanfic since I was 13 and it was horrible so please be kind and let me know your thoughts :))) enjoyyy.

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You were used to your phone ringing at the WORST possible times, I mean with your job that was something you just had to prepare yourself for. Serial killers don’t take a break just so you can have a girls night out or take a nice relaxing bath after a long day. Although never in your life did you imagine the wave of relief that would wash over you as the all too familiar ringtone blared from your phone. Normally you would groan and feel your body grow more exhausted whilst hesitantly picking up the phone, but not tonight. Nope. Fortunately for hotch, you couldn’t have answered the phone faster. “what’s up” low and behold hotch was on the other end requesting your presence ASAP!

You tried to hide your glee as you glanced over at the douche-ist blind date that the great quote on quote “matchmaker” of the century Garcia, had raved on about the week before. To be fair the date didn’t start off bad, it was actually the most decent one you’ve had yet. Honestly you were ready to finally praise Penelope for actually finding you a decent man to take your mind off the unrequited school girl crush that you had on a certain “kid” genius. somehow you escaped the dude who clearly was stuck in some frat boy mindset, well not without some snarky comment made towards you which you shut down a little harsher then needed but seriously you couldn’t hold back anymore, you had no idea what possessed Penelope into thinking you would EVER consider going home with the king of fucking douchebags (most likely the biceps and tight clothing that the man sported). Nevertheless here you were speeding down the freeway, thinking way too hard about your love life completely blanking and forgetting to drop by your apartment to quickly change into something more work appropriate.

Before you knew it you’ve parked your car, walking into the cold air. A shiver runs down your body and the shock hits you when you realize. Here you are in a little skimpy black dress that clings to your curves in “just the right way” according to Penelope before shoving you out into your car heading to that horrible excuse of a date, “ahh shit. Fucken seriously! Of course this is just my luck … I mean at least I look good” groaning and mumbling to yourself, you make your way into the building. You knew Hotch would be understanding, I mean you never know when you’re gonna be called in and it sounded urgent so yeah, sometimes you and your coworkers walk in with inappropriate work wear. You will never forget the time he called everyone in at god knows what time, Spencer had walked into the room with his pjs sporting a fluffy dress robe, you seriously thought someone was going to have to perform cpr on you that night.

Walking into the building in heels was definitely a pain in your ass, but you managed as you pushed the briefing room door open. A low wolf whistle from Derek Morgan was the last thing you needed right now “damn sweetheart, who knew you could clean up so nicely“ As you make your way into the room, you playfully roll your eyes at him.“haha very funny” you cringed as everyone’s attention was now drawn to you. while taking a seat next to JJ, wishing to be wearing literally anything else “Sorry Hotch, i came straight from..” you hesitate for a second, glancing around before continuing “A date, but this sounded important so I didn’t have time to change”The stoned faced man simply nods at you “It’s fine. You're here, right now we have a lot to cover” He starts debriefing the team, leaving no detail out of the case, no matter how brutal, you tried your hardest to give him your unwavering attention, but you could feel someone’s eyes on you. And out of the corner of your eye see him. Spencer.

His stare was hot and intense, and fuck was it making you become a flustered mess. You glanced at him from your peripheral trying your best to be subtle about it, it was getting harder and harder to focus on Hotch and the case, not Reid. But when his puppy dog eyes drifted up, down and all over your body, your body involuntarily reacted, slightly squirming in your seat. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes turn and lock onto his gorgeous brown ones, a smirk graces your lips as he finally notices your eyes now on him. Looking like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turns pink from the embarrassment and shame of being caught, and god did that make your head spin. Now it was his turn to awkwardly squirm in his seat while staring at Hotch with all his attention. You giggle under your breath at his fumbling awkwardness. Before you know it everyone around you starts to pack up their things and stand up, leaving you confused. Of course you spent the whole debriefing paying so little attention to the case and more on Spencer.

Sighing, you pull the hem of your dress down as you stand trying to save yourself from even more embarrassment. “soooo how did it go? Was he as yummy as you’d hoped?” Garcia wraps her arms around yours as you try not to stumble down the stairs towards your desk “you, my love are officially banned from meddling in my love life” you could already hear the trail of complaints bouncing around in her head as you plopped down onto your desk chair, reaching for the new case folder hoping to catch yourself up before take off in the morning “aww come on I for sure thought you’d be jumping his bones, all those rippling muscles, who In Their right mind could resist” the thought of the man you had seen a few hours prior put a foul taste in your mouth, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust “he was a complete dick, he legit referred to himself as an “alpha male” AN ALPHA ,Only thing I wanted to jump , was off a building at that point” a defeated look from her was all the conformation you needed, no longer were you going on blind dates, and your love life was back to being non existent and sad “sorry Pen I tried, I really really tried, you just have horrific taste in men like my god do we need to get you some help. These guys are basically human garbage” whilst looking up your eyes naturally drift and settle on Spencers desk frowning as you watch him, his heads buried in the case file whilst obsessively jotting down notes like some multitasking god, your heart couldn’t help but pine after his more, the looks you shared moments before didn’t help your case either. Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you drag your eyes away trying to spare yourself from going into one of your Spencer Reid spirals. You look up at Penelope already disliking the pitiful look she was giving you “are you sure your ready to give up?, I mean I know this cute guy who would be super into you, he's just your type “the new voice startled you, turning in your seat you’re met with Emily smirking down at you whilst leaning against your desk inserting herself into the conversation with JJ beside her “wow ok fun, are we all just gonna just dive head first into my personal life?, don’t we have a case to work on?” trying to deter the subject of the conversation off of you was a bust, as the women you call friends gleam down at you with a shared look “yeah no this is too entertaining to sit out on.” you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now, letting out a groan you leaned back in your chair covering your face in hopes of hiding the redness in your cheeks “sweetheart, what you need is a good ol one night stand, get a certain pretty boy out of your system” if you weren’t already melting into a puddle of embarrassment, you definitely were now “Morgan shut up please for the love of everything holy”

you could only pray Spencer wasn’t paying attention to the little group that was forming at your desk, maybe he was being good and reading the case file like the rest of them should be doing but of course luck wasn’t in your favor tonight “what are we talking about?” Before you could shut the whole conversation down Morgan happily answered Spencer “oh, we were just discussing Y/L/N’s love life. I think she needs a good root, what do you think?” that stupid smirk Morgan was happily wearing was enough to make your blood boil, now you truly wished to disappear “ok ok that’s enough” you shoot up from your seat avoiding any eye contact with Spencer not wanting to see his reaction to your humiliating red face “conversation over, my love life is going back to being non existent, thank you for your concern but it’s over, officially dead so no more talking about it.” you snatch the file off your desk ready to get the hell out of whatever situation you found yourself in “i'm going home to at least get some sleep before we leave tomorrow or I’ll be a zombie all day” with that you hastily made your way out of the building and into the cool night air once again.

wrapping your arms around yourself in hopes to provide some warmth, you slowly make your way to the car park. Before you could make it to your car you could hear foot steps getting closer and closer until they were right behind you, stopping along with yours once you had reached front of your car. Quickly spinning around you slam them onto the car's hood, arm in your hand, face down and pinned.

“Ow ow ow ow Ow!” Shit. It was Spencer. The man you’ve been daydreaming about and here you were pinning him to the hood of your car. “oh shit sorry, my god, don’t walk up on me like that holy shit Spence you scared me” you pull away off him whilst letting go of his arm and backing away a little. Spencer lets out a hiss of pain as he pushes himself off the hood, rubbing his arm to try and relieve the pain “sorry I was just trying to make sure you got to your car safely. It’s late a-and” he looks at your dress whilst clearing his throat looking away awkwardly “are you ok? you seemed upset in there” he looks back at you whilst giving you a smile that made you wanna pass away on the spot “yeah I’m ok, just having your dating life put on full blast in front of the team like that can be a tad embarrassing” silence was the only response you were met with, you glance up at Spencer trying to think of something, anything to say in this moment “you look really nice by the way, it’s unfortunate your date turned out that way.” His eyes meet yours, your breath gets caught in your throat as heat creeps up your neck to your face “t-thanks” tugging on the hem of your dress you smile sheepishly “not the most comfortable outfit, honestly wish Pen let me wear my sweater but you know”

“Penelope” you both say, you giggle as Spencer chuckles. “Oh by the way, I thought you may want these, may help a little tomorrow” he hands you the notes he took from the briefing, Your fingertips brush against his, the feeling of warmth from his hands sends a shiver down your spine. “Thanks Spence. I appreciate it” you stand there longer than needed before you start to turn away from him. “You know, that even though there aren't any hard statistics, it’s roughly estimated that every 1 in 3 or 4 blind dates actually end up as a success” he rambles on, looking back at him you try to pay attention but you can’t stop your eyes from sifting down towards his lips “so there is a chance” his voice fades away as his words become background noise and your thoughts become louder and louder, all you could think about was him, the feeling of wanting only grew stronger with each passing minute. It didn’t help that his lips were tempting you, calling you in. you couldn’t hold yourself back much longer, will power growing weaker and weaker “fuck it” your body moves before commen sense had its time to put a stop to whatever ridiculous thoughts you had muster up, suddenly your lips press onto his without thinking it through. It was short and one sided yet sweet, the faint taste of coffee and sugar overwhelmed your senses

The sudden realization hits you hard as you push yourself off Reid, the feelings of regret and fear settles itself in your stomach making you feel sick “Sorry I wasn’t thinking, shit sorry, forget that happened ok” you back away keeping your eyes glued to the ground in fear that you’ll look up and only see rejection written on his face. What in the hell possessed you to do that?, why the fuck did you do that, the only reason you kept your feelings shoved down was to protect your friendship with Spencer, nothing meant more to you then the bond you both shared and now you’ve ruined it and for what? A stupid kiss? “wait, uh No no it was just unexpected I didn’t hate it actually quite the opposite” your head snaps back up at a red faced flustered Spencer Reid “don't apologize“ his warm hands warp around your cold ones as he steps closer to you once again “did you um maybe want to try that again? Only if you want to though I don’t want you to regret anything” you giggle as he starts to nervously stumble over his words, this time more confident in your actions your lips find his for the second time tonight.

The taste of coffee meets your lips again as your body relaxes into the kiss, which is very reciprocated this time. The warmth radiating from Spencer chases the cold night air away. As your bodies shuffle closer together. you both hesitantly pull away from each, you wanted to stay here in this moment for as long as possible but of course your bed was calling your name along with the early flight departure. “I should go” you really didn’t want to “I know“ his hands stayed on your waist for a moment before slipping away “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow” the sweet look on his face drove you crazy, the urge to say fuck it and stay with him for the remainder of the night was overpowered by the sleepless night before, you settle for placing a goodnight kiss on his cheek instead “night Spence” winking you open your car door and make your way in, you turn the car on and roll the window down to call out to him as he backs away with a smug smirk on his face “sweet dreams pretty boy” with that you drive away replaying the events of tonight in your mind, god you couldn’t wait to get the case over with so you could finally have a date that wasn’t going to end in ruins, especially with the man you’ve been crushing on since your first day, yeah no you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight now.

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

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uolarieclosed · 6 months ago

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nishimura riki ☆ ! glue song

━━━ in which the soccer captain can’t contain his overflowing desire for you …

NISHIMURA RIKI who leaves a drink he got at the cafeteria on your desk every morning before you come in.

“they didn’t have the one you liked, so i got you chocolate instead.” riki stands beside your desk with his hands in his pockets as he watches you grab the drink. “you really didn’t have to riki.” “i wanted to.”

NISHIMURA RIKI who likes to tease you by hiding your pencil case or work book so he can have an excuse to talk to you.

NISHIMURA RIKI who does anything he can to get you both in trouble so you can be in detention together and he has more time to spend with you.

NISHIMURA RIKI who shares his earbuds with you in class and has a specifically curated playlist for you with songs you said you like.

NISHIMURA RIKI who stares at you shamelessly just to watch you blush under his gaze.

NISHIMURA RIKI who flirts with you because he knows about the tiny crush you have on him.

“so, what’s your type?” he asks one day while he plays with your hair. “is it me?” he raises his eyebrows, teasing you but in reality he hopes you say yes.

NISHIMURA RIKI who invites you to his soccer game with plans on asking you out after + he makes you wear his jersey so everyone knows you’re his.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who asks you out with an entire poster board held up by his teammates and a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who leaves his team zip up at your place so you can wear it to school (also because he loves when it smells like you).

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who walks you home everyday without fail even though he’s always late to his practice.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who won’t shut up about you in the locker room and everyone knows who you are despite not meeting you properly.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who tries hard every game and practice to impress you knowing you’re in the stands watching him.

“put your shirt down!” heeseung yells as riki wipes his sweat off—showing his abs and smirking at you.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who introduces himself as your boyfriend to all your friends.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who thinks your kisses are his lucky charm and cannot go to the field without one of your pecks.

“why aren’t you playing?” you run your hands through his hair as he pouts. “you didn’t give me my kiss.” his arms are crossed and he huffs until you give in.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who has a shrine of you in his locker and occasionally has conversations with you before his practice (he’s insane).

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who goes all out for valentine’s day and sends a flower to you every class period until you have a full bouquet.

“did you like my surprise?” his arm is around your shoulder as he walks through the halls. “it was nice riki, thank you.” “there’s still more.”

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who gets jealous easily and doesn’t like it when you give someone else his undivided attention, so he gives you the cold shoulder.

however, he doesn’t last long until he’s spamming your phone and showing up at your house for late night cuddles.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to ignore you.” he mutters while he hides in the crook of your neck feeling nervous but also accomplished.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who buys you matching jewelry and clothes because he feels connected even when you both are away from one another.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who teaches you how to play soccer so he can brag to all his teammates.

“so, i’ve been thinking that jake should be replaced by my girlfriend.” “stop it!”

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who claims that the reason he exists is to be your boyfriend.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who isn’t shy to say he loves you with all his heart.

“i think you’re the coolest person ever, i love you.” he randomly says one night as you both go for a walk, but ultimately you feel the same.

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another-lost-mc · 6 months ago

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Shower Thoughts: Their bathing habits, with and without you.

Featuring: The Demon Brothers x gn!Reader

NSFW // Content: Domestic fluff and non-explicit smut. Sharing a bath/shower together; sexual and non-sexual touching; mentions of teasing, semi-public sex (showering together in the RAD locker room), penetration (Reader receiving).

A/N: Shaking off the rust. I blame the new Nightmare cards by the way. I wanted to write this for the OCs and figured I should show some of the others some love too. Like always, my fav bias is showing. (Most of Asmo's section is based on things that occur in the bath scene of Desperation.)

LUCIFER

Showering is part of his morning routine - he wants to look and feel his best, his pride won't settle for anything less. (Plus, it helps wake him up for mornings when coffee alone won't do the trick.)

Baths are a rare luxury for him. Ideally, he'll have the house (and your company) all to himself so he can soak in the fragrant bubbles without worrying about what his brothers are getting up to.

(The fact that they're not home and loose in the Devildom is just as worrying, please try to distract him.)

He's not against the idea of shower sex, but it can be cramped and awkward. He would rather tease you with gentle, lingering touches that leave you both a little hot and desperate before leading you to bed where he can enjoy you properly. He's surprisingly unconcerned about getting his bedsheets wet when it means having you naked and willing underneath him as soon as possible.

MAMMON

Mammon usually showers at night. He'd rather have the extra time to sleep in the mornings before class. If he has to work or has a photoshoot, he's definitely showering before bed - he and his bedding are a mess from sticky, gel-caked hair and the eye makeup he didn't remove properly if he doesn't.

He doesn't usually take baths - too boring, too slow - but if you like taking baths...well.

Whether he's in the shower with you or the tub with you, he's open for anything and everything you might want to do. Even an innocent suggestion for a romantic shower or bath together turns dirty quickly when his eyes and hands start to roam across so much exposed, wet skin.

LEVIATHAN

For a self-proclaimed otaku, his showering habits aren't that bad.

Sure, maybe before you came along, he spent less time worrying about his grooming and personal hygiene and more time worrying about his idols' stream schedules and pre-sale ticket dates for the various movies or concerts he wanted to see.

However, you're here now and you're important to him, so whether he wants to admit it or not, that changes things. If he wants you to hang out in his room for hours at a time gaming or binge-watching anime, both him and his room need to be in guest-ready shape.

He showers more often when he's been cooped in his room on the sofa or in his fashionable-but-not-functional gaming chair that makes his back sweat. Even a quick cool-off rinse in the shower is enough to leave him looking and feeling refreshed which is perfect - he hopes he can convince you to cuddle with him in his tub after.

Maybe it's his natural affinity for water, but he enjoys showering or bathing equally. It's tricky when most tubs aren't big enough for him to spread out with his tail out too, but thankfully they're big enough for you to fit in the tub with him which is just as good - better, even!

He's shy with you in the shower or tub. He prefers to stand behind you so he's not tempted to stare at your chest (or lower). No one touches him as gently or with more care as you do. And the way you run your hands along the scales of his tail or his neck...he's going to try and hide his twitching erection from you and hope you don't say anything if you notice it. He can't help how good you make him feel, but he's not always confident enough to return the favour.

If you want him to touch you, you'll probably have to explicitly ask him to - and wouldn't you know it, your hands resting on his while you guide them to move over your body is one of many acts of intimacy he ends up craving from you.

SATAN

He showers in the morning. He's one of the few student council members that wears his uniform properly and I think he wants the rest of him to look and smell good too.

He enjoys a nice bath once in a while. Maybe not as much as Asmo, but they're a semi-regular part of his routine. He can load up the bath tray with a book, even a cup of coffee or snack if he's feeling peckish that night; time passes in a blue as he soaks away some of the stress that burdens him. If you join him for a bath, he'd love to read to you or simply hold you against his chest while music streams from his D.D.D. nearby.

Showers are useful if he's in a rush, or maybe he just wants to rinse off the day's grime (especially if he was at the club or in a fight). Or perhaps he's not in a rush after all, judging by the way he ushers you into the bathroom with him and tugs at your clothing so you can join him under the warm spray.

Whether he simply wants to melt under your fingers as you work suds into his hair and across his body, or if your naked body so close to his is too much temptation to ignore, know that you're probably the only one who gets to see him - all of him - exposed this way.

ASMODEUS

It's no secret that the Avatar of Lust adores his private bathroom, with its high ceiling and numerous cupboards full of fluffy towels and bottles full of the most expensive haircare and body wash and massage oils that Grimm can buy.

His luxurious tub - if you can call it that, considering it's bigger than any hot tub you've ever been in before - is full of fragrant, crystal-clear water that Asmo adds scented oils and skin-softening potions to. No matter how long you bathe together, the water remains clean and warm (there's a handy spell for that).

Asmo loves the intimacy of pampering you and having you do the same for him. It's almost magical, the way he massages you with slow, rhythmic strokes as he washes you with beauty products he personally selects. He considers your preferences above his own so that everything he brings into the bath is scented with your favourite fragrant notes. If you share his bed that night, he can smell you on his pillow and sheets long after you've parted ways.

Naturally, once he's spent his time spoiling you with his tender touches and whispered affection, he's desperate to have your hands on him next.

Bathing doesn't always have to lead to more than soft, teasing touches. He's not against the idea - it wouldn't be the first time his fingers teased between your legs while he nuzzled the back of your neck and nipped at your ear - but this sort of comfort is like divinity to him. It's a sort of worship he offers you that he's offered no one else before, and no matter how much the outside world demands your attention (or his), this is one rare opportunity where you can truly be alone together.

BEELZEBUB

Beel's shower routine is fairly simple. 1. Shower after Fangol practice or games. 2. Shower after eating at a buffet-style restaurant. 3. Shower before bed if nothing else applies.

Of course, Beel learns that there's a certain charm to showering with you too. He used to complain the communal shower he shares with his siblings is a bit too cramped for his liking, and with you it's even worse, but that's simply a convenient excuse to press himself against you while he hardens against your back, or he cages you against the wall while his arms block everything else from view.

(The open showers in the locker room at the Fangol pitch are fun in their own way when post-victory showers with Beel turn frisky from giddy excitement and too much adrenaline to burn.)

Showering is simply a part of his routine, but like most things he does, Beel thinks they're more enjoyable when he can entice you to join him.

BELPHEGOR

Belphie's not necessarily lazy - he just prefers to spend his time and energy doing things that are important to him. It's not his fault if that very short list can be summarized as sleeping and spending time with you.

Sleeping is most comfortable when he's clean from the day's sweat and smells - the last thing he wants to do is ruin the attic's cozy little nest by crawling into bed smelling like anyone else but him and you. That means if he's going to shower before bed, he's dragging you with him if you haven't had one already.

Belphie might not be lazy, but that doesn't mean he won't use every trick in the book to convince you to touch him and pamper him as much as possible. He whines that he's too sleepy to fiddle with all the buttons of his RAD blazer, and he smirks like a satisfied cat while you huff at his ridiculousness and help undress him anyway.

(He knows you indulge him because you like it too - did you think he wouldn't notice the way your eyes roam his bare chest or the way your fingers twitch excitedly when you reach for his belt?)

Shower or bath sex is a bit messy and not as relaxing as he would like - the tiles are hard and cool against your back, it's hard to prep you properly in the tub as water sloshes against the sides and spills over the floor. It's inconvenient and not the sexiest experience in his opinion.

However. The shower is an excellent place to tease you with an innocent pout on his lips and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Lips trail lazily along whatever bare, wet skin they can reach while greedy fingers prepare you for something bigger once you're finally in bed together, moving together lazily in the sheets and putting off cleaning the mess until morning.

(And even if Belphie gets a little carried away in the shower as he stretches you with his fingers or his mouth, or possibly his cock if he's that riled up, the clean-up has never been easier.)