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omgeto · 1 year ago

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☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR PROFESSOR — NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, GOJO.

summary: you have sex with your professor. for many different reasons.

wc: 4.2k (each of these were meant to be 500 words long so idk what happened)

cw: smutty smut afab!reader who's in university, mutual masturbation, spanking, semi public sex, toji is not a professor but a gym coach who rails you in a supply closet, but theres a lot of sex on a lot of desks so mdni.

an: theres actually a smidge of plot in this just a tiny bit if you do a deep squint, but the smut id personally say is my best yet. so give it a chance people, but come for the smut stay for the dialogue. hope you enjoy! not proofread ignore mistakes pls

☆ NANAMI

nanami kento, was the strictest teacher you have ever had. you couldn’t get away with your usual tricks that you did with some of your other professors — strutting past their office during office hours in your skimpiest clothes to get a better grade. it was as if nanami was immune to all your devices.

but with a big exam coming up, you knew you had to make something happen since studying was not your forte. so you were prepared to do anything to get that A.

“come in," his deep voice calls from inside.

as you enter his office, you are met with the sight of your professor, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, reviewing a stack of papers. he glances up at you briefly before returning his attention to his work.

"what can I help you with?" he ask, his tone professional.

“i wanted to see if we could talk about the exam you set for us tomorrow,” you start to say, his eyes still focused on his papers, not sparing you a glance. “i was thinking we could figure out a way for me to get extra credit… sir.”

you had his attention now. technically you’ve always had his attention — yes nanami was different to all the other professors you’ve ever had but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a man at the end of the day.

he always noticed the way you’d sit in his classroom, your pouty mouth always gnawing at your pencil as you never had a clue what was going on. nanami always had to hide his dick feeling tight in his trousers whenever you walk into his classroom. little did you know that you actually would’ve failed his class a long time ago, but because he just couldn’t let go of the sight of how your pretty tits bounce everytime you raise your hand, he always made you pass.

“well what are you willing to do for that extra credit?” he says, his tone slightly amused.

“whatever you want” you respond a bit too eagerly, you were coming onto him hard. but it was working, you could already see the crack in his usual stoic facade. “c’mon professor nanami, i need to pass this class,” you practically beg.

“oh yeah, you definitely need to pass this exam, you’re one more failed exam to flunking my whole class,” he affirms — lying through his teeth. “so i think you should come sit up here, and show me what you’re willing to do huh.”

suddenly, you start to feel nervous. usually you’d have control of the situation, you’d flaunt your ass, fuck your teacher and get an A, easily. but this time, you could see in nanami’s eyes that from when you entered his office — that he was running the show.

you saunter over his desk, and he pushes his seat back allowing you to have room to perch on his desk in front of him. “take off your shirt,” he commands, and you’re quick to fling off your top — that was barely covering anything anyways, “wow no bra, why am i not surprised.” he stares at your hardened nipples smirking as he continues to say, “you know i see your nipples peeking at me through your shit all the time in class.”

“really?” you question coyly.

“you don’t think i see how you practically fuck yourself in your seat when i’m doing a reading,” he continues, his arms folding as if he was telling you off, “a bit disrespectful, right?”

“no i-it’s just i really like the sound of your voice,” you stammer, embarrassed at him calling you out. you couldn’t deny that your professor was hot, everybody thought so and you hated school the only thing that got you through your classes was your day dreams of him fucking you.

“oh really, well i wanna see you get off to it for real this time.”

“wha—”

“touch yourself,” he demands with a grin, “fuck yourself on your fingers, put on a show for me,” he loosens his tie, and unbuttons his cuffs, ready to watch you perform for him, “and if you do well, then we could talk about your extra credit.”

you take off your pants, your hands moving directly to your throbbing pussy — since of course you had no panties on. you press your thumb down on your clit as your fingers work their way into your cunt. you were already soaked, just from hearing your professor speak to you, so it was easy to slide your digits in and out of you.

nanami’s grin grows wider, loving the way your work your pussy, “you not gonna play with your tits?” and you take his hint, your other hand sliding up to cup one of your boobs, your fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. “good girl,” he praises.

you add another finger inside of you, writhing down hard on his desk against your digits. you quicken your pace, rubbing your thumb vigorously against your clit. his gaze on you served as an encouragement, your ultimate goal was shifted, at this point you didn’t care whether he passed or failed you — you just wanted to put on a good show for him.

“you gonna cum for me?” he taunts, the sound of your pussy squelching around your fingers as you drive them in is like music to his ears. you barely even noticed him fisting his dick, stroking it hard — matching the pace of your fingers hammers your cunt. “you gonna make a big mess for me all over my desk?”

“professor i-” you whine, wanting more than just your own fingers inside of you, “please i need—”

“professor? what was it that you called me earlier?” he teases, “remind me of that and then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

“s-sir please,” you sputter, barely being able to string a sentence together. you could feel you were about to cum hard. your fingers were still drilling into your pussy, and your hands were still suctioned on your tit and nanami's dick was taunting you. “i need you.”

“you need me hmm?” he mocks, his eyebrow tilting as he stares at your fucked out face.

“yeah p-please i need your dick,” you beg, your pussy was gushing all over your fingers, as your strokes got sloppier, “i need you i-in me.”

“oh really?” he asks with a smirk, a slight chuckle as you nod eagerly, “well too bad.”

“wha—”

“you really thought i’d put my dick in a slutty student that’s not even smart enough to even pass my class?” he lectures, he tuts his teeth, shaking his head, “now finish off for me and leave office hours end in a few minutes.”

“f-fuck,” you moan out, you could barely even process his words, too busy focused on cumming all over your fingers to think about how he just denied you of what you really wanted, your hand falls off your tit, your head jerking back as your release over his desk. he’s quick to cum too, biting down on his fist to surpress the loud moan threatening to come out

“you really made a mess for me huh,” he observes, swiping his fingers across the pool of cum you left on his desk and bringing it into his mouth, “sweet.” you were at a loss for words, you were just coached through one of the best orgasms you ever had from your professor — and he didn’t even touch you — yet you still don’t know whether he’s gonna pass you or not.

“so about that exam…?” you voice trails, as you put back on your shirt, hopping of his desk.

“i’ll think about it, sit the exam first and i’ll see what i can do,” his voice turns serious, and he nods his head in the direction for you to leave indicating for you to get up out of his office. but just before you're about to leave the room he calls out to you, “oi.”

“thanks for the live show.”

☆ TOJI

“why do we always have to fuck in such awkward spaces,” you complain nearly tripping on a basketball as toji holds you upright.

“you know you love it baby,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, thrusting up into you further.

you were in the gym supply closet, having your weekly sex with your university's gym teacher. you don’t even know how your little routine came about but once he started to hammer into you every friday after basketball practice, you’ve never missed a meet up.

“don’t call me that,” you groan out at the use of his pet name.

“why not?” he grumbles, cupping your tits with his hands as he stands behind you, “aren’t you students s’pposed to listen to your teachers and all that.”

you take a sharp inhale as his large hands smother your boobs, his thick things toy with your nipples, “but y-you aren’t a real teacher, in case you forgot.”

“am too,” he mutters like a child.

“a-are not,” you spit back just as childishly.

“am, too,” he persists, thrusting into you hard. pushing you down by your nape, forcing your hands to grip onto some random gym apparatus. he uses his foot to spread your legs apart wider so he can fit right behind you. fucking into you with something to prove.

“you teach gym to a bunch of brain dead j-jocks, wouldn’t say that classifies as being an actual professor toji.” you continue riling him up, biting your lip as his hammers into you harder. “you’re more like a glorified personal trainer than a teacher.”

he drives into you deeper, “oh and your just an uppity bitch, who still ended up fucking this ‘personal teacher,’ in a gym closet,” his mouth moves close to your ear, as he whispers, “so what does that say about you baby?” he presses a kiss underneath your ear lobe, before lightly sucking on it.

his words go straight to your core, him calling you an ‘uppity bitch’ had the exact effect he intended them to have — you throwing your ass on his dick, fucking him back as hard as he was fucking you.

he sends a smack to your ass, biting his lip as it ripples at the contact of his palm. his slaps were merciless, having you scream out every time he hits your cheek. “how’s this for a glorified personal trainer huh?” he coos in your ear, feeling dignified as you rut against him more feigning for more of his dick in your throbbing pussy.

“ah you f-fill me up s-so so good,” you mewl out, as his dick pumps in and out of you stuffing you with every thrust. his mouth latches onto the nape of your neck, sucking on it as he ploughs into you deeper, hitting your spot with pinpoint accuracy.

“i know i do baby, i always stuff you good don’t i?” he groans out, your pussy was a vice grip on his dick, had him suppressing his moans whenever you clenched around him, “don’t know why you fuck around with these lame ass boys in your classes, they can’t fuck you like i do. do they?”

“well…” you voice trails in a teasing tone.

“dont f-fucking play with me,” he sputters, feeling himself about to bust all inside of you, “i’m the only one you fucking right,” when he doesn’t hear an immediate answer, he shoves himself into you his hips pushing right against your ass, “right?”

“y-yes fuck, right,” you sigh rolling your eyes at his act of possessiveness — ignoring how you pussy got even wetter at his words. “you’re the b-best i ever had, toji.”

“you’re damn right i am,” he scoffs out giving your ass one final slap as he says, “you going finish all over my dick, c’mon baby coat my dick with your sweet sweet,” and you do just that. you cum with a cry, releasing all over toji, as he shoots into you a loud groan leaving his mouth.

“aww i forgot how loud you get for me,” you tease him as he pulls out of you, turning to look at him with a grin, which he huffs out, “anyways what did i tell you about cumming in me, i'm not one of those cheerleaders you run around with,” you fuss swatting at his chest.

“yeah you aren’t one of the cheerleaders i run around with,” he repeats, “hence why i can cum in you, you know you’re my favourite fuck out of all my students”

“ugh you’re so gross.”

“you say that with my cum running down your legs,” he says, giving you a pointed look, his eyes staring down at your thighs, “i do have another hour till my next class i gotta teach, so i could clean it up for you?” he offers, already going down to his knees, knowing that was a suggestion you would not deny.

“if you insist.”

he starts to suck against your thighs as you lean against the wall, sandwiched between a goal post and a hockey stick, but just before his lips latch onto your pussy, he looks up to you with a pout, “do you really think gym coaches aren’t teachers?”

“oh shut up toji,” you mutter, pushing his head to your cunt.

☆ GETO

you storm into your professors office, pissed off. professor geto was the worst teacher you’ve ever had. he was cocky, arrogant and most of the time he didn’t have a clue what he was teaching.

“ah miss know it all,” he muses, his personal nickname he created for you during his first semester of being your professor, “to what do i owe the pleasure this time.” you were no stranger to geto’s office, you were practically the only student that actually used his office hours. geto didn’t mind it though. the unplanned visits, your impoliteness — he was amused by it.

“could you explain why you gave me a B, on my last paper?” you interrogate, waving said essay in his face furiously, “when we both know that this is easily worth an A.”

“i just think you could do better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “i just think you haven’t harnessed your true potential, that’s all.” geto knew you were smart, the smartest person he’s ever taught. he just needed to get you in his office. and he knew a below average grade on an essay, that didn’t even matter, was the way to do that.

“and what do you know about potential?” you mutter, more to yourself than anything, “i don’t even know how you managed to get this job.”

he rolls his eyes at your comments, “do you really want this A?”

"of course i want the stupid A," you reply, your tone determined. "i've put in the effort, and i've met all the requirements for this paper. there's no reason for you to give me a B except for your own personal bias against me."

“personal bias? some may argue that you’re actually my favourite?” geto leans back in his chair, a sly grin on his face. "but alright, then. here's the deal," he says, folding his arms. "if you can convince me right now, in this very moment, that you deserve an A for this paper, i'll change your grade. but you'll have to persuade me.”

“persuade you?” you retort, “what you want me to do a powerpoint presentation or something…?”

he chuckles, shaking his head at your naivety, for someone so smart you somehow lack social awareness, “no i wanna see if you taste as good as you look.”

“you mean…” your voice trails, finally catching on to what he was getting at.

“come lay down on my desk,” he says casually as if this was a usual ordeal between the two of you. he could see you hesitating, “you do want that A right?”

your feet were stuck in the ground, you never wanted to be one of those girls — ones that had to fuck a teacher just to get through university. but, regardless of your below A grade, you were more curious about what it would actually be like. especially with a professor that looked like geto.

you lay down on his desk, nervous, you could feel his breath on your stomach as he slides down your jeans. he was kneeling down, his face at the same level as your pussy. he toys with your underwear, pulling at it and snapping it against your skin, giving you a smile of approval in your choice of panties. but just before he pulls them off you he asks, “you sure you want to do it smarty? you can run back to your dorm if you want?”

“anything to get the A,” you grit out, basically lying, since getting your grade improved was the last thing on your mind as he pulls off your underwear.

he takes his hair — that was usually tied up in bun — down, releasing his long hair, “just in case you need something to pull on,” he smirks.

his fingers slide across your wet slit, spreading your lips. he presses a kiss on your clit, slightly nibbling on it before working his mouth down to your pussy. you gasp at the contact as he latches his mouth on you, his tongue darting into your cunt at a quick pace.

geto hums in satisfaction as you hands immediately go to grab his hair, pulling at it as his tongue gives you long strokes, lapping up all the juices already spilling out of you. “i didn’t think my star student would be this needy, if only the class could see you now.” he taunts lifting his head up, “i guess they wouldn’t be surprised though, your as hungry for my tongue as you are to answer questions in class,” he finishes with a chuckle pressing a kiss to your thigh.

but you’re quick to silence him, clenching your thighs against his head, “s-shut up,” you whine, thrusting your hips up in his face to meet his tongue. your head was swirling, you could barely remember how you ended up on your professors desk in the first place. but all you were focused on was clawing your fingers through his scalp as he slurps and sucks on your pussy.

“oh m-my god,” you murmur, soaking his face. he could tell by the way you pushing his face deeper into your cunt, his nose forced into your arousal that you were close.

“ready to let me taste you” he asks, his voice sending vibrations over your pussy, “wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

“fuck d-didn’t think it’ll be this g-good,” you whine out. he brings his thumb to you clit rubbing it as fast as he could taking you over the edge. you moan out, practically squealing, as you squirt all over his face. he smirks, trying to get as much as it as he can.

“i didn’t know my star student could squirt,” he teases, his mouth glistening with evidence of you, “or should i call you my star squirter.”

“haha, very funny…” you deadpan, becoming slightly shy at seeing him lick his lips wiping the last remains of you off of him.

“i guess my theory was right,” he concludes.

“what theory?” you ask, puzzled, forgetting the whole reason you let him eat you out in the first place.

“you do taste as good as you look,” he comments with a pleased grin, already reminiscing about you squirting all over his face.

“so about my A?” you ask pulling up your jeans, and collecting your things.

“yeah i’ll expect your rewrite on my desk by friday,” he shrugs, going back to his nonchalant persona.

“rewrite? did you not promise me an A if i can ‘persuade you,’ at how badly i want it?” you question, going back to your original state of being pissed off, “did i not persuade you mr ‘you do taste as good as you look.’ this is so unfair”

“ask me if i care about fairness?” he smirks, a laugh leaving his lips as he watches you storm out of his office, “hey! you left your underwear,” he calls out behind you, his laugh growing as you say nothing, putting up your middle finger at him and slamming his door shut.

☆ GOJO

“do you want to lose your job?” you chastise, “shut the fuck up.”

“but i can’t help it,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck to suppress his non stop moans and whines that he was doing as he pushed his dick in you, “your pussy’s just too good.”

you were leaning against the desk of your professor gojo’s lecture hall, your legs wrapped around his bag as he hoisted you up, grinding his body against yours as his dick drives in your pussy.

it was after hours, and gojo forgot to lock his classroom doors. as soon as your peers left the room he was quick to put his lips on yours, throwing all the stationary on his desk on the floor in the most dramatic fashion ever.

you don’t know how you got entangled in a relationship with your teacher. since you didn’t actually benefit from it, and he was needier and clingier than an actual student your age. but the mind blowing orgasms he gave you every now and again made you forget all of his ‘bad qualities.’

“c’mon don’t tell me it’s not making you feel wetter,” he murmurs in between kisses, “the idea of someone walking in on me fucking your pretty little pussy.” you ignore him, your arms tightening around his neck as you bounce on his dick. “tell me that doesn’t make you hot,” he eases his dick out of you slightly, drawing both of your attention to his member already covered in your juices. his eyebrows raise when you look back at him as if he’s just proved his point.

“whatever, i guess the idea of us getting caught isn’t that bad,” you lie, knowing it was causing you to get better, “but if we do get caught then it's your ass gojo.”

“aww you’re so thoughtful,” he coos, “you really care about me and my job, will you miss me if i get fired?”

“well i’ll miss my on campus dick,” you mutter, scratching at his back, as he thrusts into you deeper, “but i’ll be able to replace you quickly i guess.”

“oh how you wound me,” he mocks, pulling you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste you. that was gojo’s favourite thing to do to you, of course your pussy was great, but your lips were his favourite thing. sometimes he’d even drag you out of the hallway into his office —not a care in the world if anyone was around— and pull you into his lap just shove his tongue into your mouth and fondle your tits.

for a lousy professor, gojo sure knew your body well. he knew every spot to hit, every place to kiss, every stroke to make and you loved it. the scratches you were giving him on his back, encouraging him to go deeper, stuffing you to the brim. “f-fuckk you take me so so well,” he moans in your ear, whining and grunting as you tighten your hold around him.

“i’m close,” he mutters, his pace slowing. he lowers you down so your back is laying on the desk and he swoops his mouth down to your tits. enveloping your left breast with his mouth, greedily suckling at it.

“wow already?” you taunt, “you’ve really lost your touch professor, when i was an undergrad we could go at it for days.” his mouth pauses, as he looks up at you with a pointed look that reads as ‘girl really? as if you aren’t close.’ he wasn’t wrong, from his deep long strokes in your pussy, and his tongue twisting on your nipples, you were ready to cum all over him.

“gojo shit,” you curse, your hand coming down to your clit, flicking at it fast to speed up your orgasm. but gojo slaps your hand away, almost offended that you would try to cum off of something other than his hands and mouth. he bites down on your nipple, punishingly and that sends you overboard. you let out a shriek as you cum all over his dick, your hand quickly coming over your mouth to suppress your whines.

“what happened to being quiet huh?” he mocks your warning from earlier, “don’t want to get caught, do we now?” but he’s quick to let out a deep moan, as he releases into you, spraying your walls with all your cum. he slumps over you, exhausted, and wanting to just feel you — gojo was always needy after sex.

after you both come down from your highs and clean up — thankful that nobody stumbled across you. gojo pulls you into his lap, dabbing kisses all over your neck, “so when you gonna let me take you out, outside the classroom?”

“y’know that’s not allowed right?” you remind him, looking at your professor as if he’s lost his mind, “what we’re doing now isn’t allowed, but out in public is a no go, gojo.”

“not allowed?” he retorts, as if it’s news to him, “i thought it was just heavily frowned upon?!”

an: sooo what did you think? which one was your favourite. me personal lame gym coach toji really did it for me. tagging my girl @jabamin mainly just for nanami. but yes ALSO IDK WHY I MADE THE READER DUMB IN THE NANAMI FIC, but I juxtaposed it by making you super smart in the geto fic so it balances it out. anyways lmk what you thought, thanks for reading!! DONT USE MY DIVIDERS

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fic #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento x reader

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pathologicalreid · 6 months ago

Note

hiii I love ur fics <3 I am OBSESSED with the prompt “can you come get me?” bc h/c makes me 💥💥💥 so I was thinking:

reader has been kidnapped by the latest unsub and the team is trying their hardest to find her but all the leads keep coming up empty until one day Spencer gets a call from her and the first thing she says is “can you come get me?” she sounds extremely upset and afraid so Spencer and Hotch leave to go find her. when they get there, she looks like she’s been through hell so they rush her to the hospital to be checked out, all the while they can’t seem to get any info out of her about what happened.

Spencer & reader could be platonic or romantic, whichever you like. (also I was thinking maybe hotchner!reader ? if that wouldn’t be too many things to ask for lol)

I love how you do angst and h/c, so keep up the good work and have a wonderful day <3

can you come get me? | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, hospitals, stitches, blood draws, catatonia, disassociation, brief mention of sa, ohio mentioned, general cm violence (let me know if i missed any) word count: 4.56k a/n: i have no idea how this got so long but i love the plot of it so much that i couldn't cut any of it! i'm such a slut for the "you came"/"you called" trope that i couldn't help myself! i wrote this with the idea that it would be in place of the m*eve storyline (which means our lord and savior blake is here)!! anyways anon i hope you enjoy this - i love you!

Any external sound was completely ignored as Spencer flipped through the same file for the eighteenth time that day. In his periphery, he saw JJ and Rossi nod at each other before Rossi split away, walking up the ramp to where Hotch’s office was.

It took him a moment to realize JJ had made herself comfortable by sitting on the edge of his desk. She had her jacket neatly folded in her arms as she eyed the file he had, grief filling her eyes as she registered what he was looking at. “What are you doing tonight?” She asked, trying to keep her voice as light as possible.

The question was entirely pointless, she knew exactly what he was doing tonight, but in an attempt to get her to leave him alone, Spencer humored her, “I’m working late tonight,” he answered simply.

JJ’s smile faltered ever so slightly before she shook her head, “You’ve been working late all week, what if you come over tonight? Will’s making dinner. Garcia’s coming after she finishes her system update,” the attempt to get him out of the office didn’t go over his head, but it wasn’t going to work. “Henry would love to see you – maybe you could teach him a new magic trick.”

Peeling his eyes off of the paperwork, he looked up at the blonde, “You know I can’t.” He felt so close to an answer, he couldn’t possibly leave.

“Look, Reid, I get it, but you’ve been working crazy hours for the past month. Maybe taking a night off would be good. You can start fresh in the morning,” she tried to coax him into leaving the case be.

It hadn’t been a full month; it had been twenty-seven days. Almost four full weeks since you were taken. It had been one week since Section Chief Cruz had told Hotch that the BAU needed to start taking new cases, as the trail to you had run cold.

Considering you were Hotch’s daughter, that discussion had gone rather poorly. Cruz had been able to give the team leeway. Both Spencer and Hotch had fully intended on taking advantage of that leeway, and the rest of the team helped when they had the capacity.

Turning back to your file, Spencer shook his head, “I’ll go if Hotch goes.” He knew there was no way Hotch would be leaving the office tonight, the only reason Hotch went home anymore was for Jack, and he was at a sleepover tonight.

JJ’s shoulders slumped in abject disappointment as her eyes followed Dave as he exited Hotch’s office, the slamming of the door enough to make the lingering BAU agents flinch. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, defeated.

Rossi wagged a finger at Spencer, “Go home at some point tonight, kid,” he instructed.

Waving a quick goodbye, Spencer resumed making notes in the margins of the papers that were making a permanent home on his desk. He looked up when Hotch exited his office, eyes following him as he brewed a pot of coffee in the kitchenette. The two of them acknowledged each other with a nod before continuing on with the hunt.

Both of them knew the odds, that you had been gone this long and there was a good chance that they’d never see you again. Despite that, Spencer would head up to Hotch’s office in about an hour, and the two of them would confer.

Eventually, the sun set, and a thunderstorm rolled in, the flashes of light coming in through the windows as he began to consider going for another cup of coffee.

Wiping a hand down his face, he inwardly groaned as his phone started to ring. Half expecting it to be JJ, he was surprised to find that it was an unknown caller. Clicking the answer button, he lifted the phone to his ear, “Hello, this is Dr. Reid.”

There was an eerie silence on the other end of the call, if he strained his ears, he could hear the pattering of rain. He tried to greet the other person again, but when there was no answer, he started to lower the phone to hang up.

“Can you come get me?” Your quiet voice came through the receiver, effectively knocking the wind out of Spencer’s lungs.

Fiddling with his belongings, Spencer gripped your file, “Where are you?” He asked urgently.

You sniffled, “I don’t know. A payphone off of twenty-eight.” If he strained his ears, he could listen to the rain. Spencer wondered if he could calculate how far away you were by the sound of the thunder where you were compared to where he was.

His chest ached at the exhaustion in your tone, imagining you had gotten approximately as much sleep as he had recently. That is to say, little to none. Pulling the phone slightly away from his face, he called out for Hotch, getting his attention and waving him over. “Y/N, can you see any mile markers or exit signs anywhere?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone back up to his ear.

“I can’t see much of anything,” you admitted. That made sense, your glasses had been recovered at your abduction scene. Spencer kept them in his bag with the rest of your belongings that had been released from evidence. “I feel lucky enough that I was able to find a pay phone,” you said, and for the first time, he noticed that you were whispering.

Glancing at the inside of his wrist, Spencer checked the time. JJ had mentioned something about Garcia staying in her office for a system update – what were the odds the tech analyst was still there? Stalking out of the bullpen, he made his way to her office, Hotch hot on his heels.

After knocking on the door, her voice rang out, “Enter, mere mortal.” Once she had recognized who it was, she greeted Spencer directly, “Ah, Dr. Reid, did you need a ride to JJ’s?”

“Can you locate a payphone based on the phone number?” He asked hurriedly, the longer you stood out there in the rain, the more danger you might be in.

A confused look was plastered on her face, but she turned back to her screens and started click-clacking away. “Most def, boy genius. Run me the digits,” she responded, pulling up some sort of database that Spencer didn’t recognize – probably for the best.

She typed the phone number just as quickly as he recited it, turning around and telling him that the pay phone in question was approximately thirty minutes away. You had only been thirty minutes away this entire time. “Send the coordinates to Hotch’s phone,” Spencer instructed, stepping toward the door. “Tell the rest of the team to come in,” he continued, “it’s Y/N.”

Each stage of grief flashed across Penelope’s face as she nodded assuredly, scrambling for her phone as she took care of notifications.

Impatiently, Hotch held the elevator door open as Spencer entered, keeping the phone up to his ear, “Stay on the phone,” he told you.

A desperate whimper came from your end of the call, “I don’t have any change. I found a few quarters on the ground, but I don’t have anything on me.”

“Stay on as long as you can, angel,” Spencer amended. “We’re on our way.”

The rain was worse than he had initially thought, but Mother Nature was no match for Aaron Hotchner. They were only about five minutes from the coordinates that Garcia had shared, and the phone call had dropped off before they were even on the main highway. The dropped call certainly didn’t help the rising tension in the SUV.

“Did she sound scared?” Hotch had asked for the nth time.

Not taking his eyes off of the map, Spencer nodded, “She sounded like she was stranded in the middle of the woods in Virginia, in a thunderstorm, and was using a pay phone as a lifeline.” His entire body was thrumming with nervous energy as they sped down the road, “but she’s alive.”

He didn’t miss the way Hotch’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. You being alive would have to be enough of a comfort to the both of them for now, but Spencer knew what your life meant to your father.

“There it is,” Spencer said, interrupting his thoughts with the recognition of a phone booth on the side of the road, in front of a seemingly abandoned gas station. In a moment of uncharacteristic recklessness, Spencer clambered out of the vehicle before it came to a full stop, an umbrella and jacket in tow.

Hesitantly, he approached the crumpled heap of limbs underneath the pay phone. It wasn’t a full booth, it had just enough coverage to prevent the payphone from short-circuiting. You had jammed yourself underneath it, trying to keep yourself as dry as possible.

Kneeling in front of you, he swept his sopping-wet hair from his face, “Y/N.” His voice was no more than a breath, he didn’t dare reach out to touch you — lest you not want to be touched. A strike of lightning lit your surroundings enough for him to note the bruise that had bloomed on your cheek.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he watched as your lips parted in recognition, “You came,” you whispered.

He nodded, “You called.” His heart soared as you shuffled yourself closer to him, allowing him to wrap the FBI-issued jacket around your rain-soaked frame. “Let’s get you out of this rain, alright?”

Standing up on shaky legs, Spencer helped you walk to the SUV where your dad was waiting, shining a flashlight to help guide you to the vehicle. Based on how heavily you were leaning on him, he could tell that your left leg was injured. Despite your injury, you stepped away from Spencer to hug your father.

For a moment, Spencer felt like he was intruding on a family moment, but he recalled all of the times he had been invited to join in Hotchner festivities these last few years and allowed his eyes to meet Hotch’s.

The two of them shared an understanding look as Hotch pulled away, “We should get you to a hospital,” he said, cupping your face with parental gentleness.

Spencer helped you into the SUV, unable to put any pressure on your leg, you depended on the handles to pull yourself up. As you maneuvered yourself, he tried to determine what your injuries were. His eyes scanned your body until he made his way back to your face, “Angel, keep your eyes open.” He felt as if he was asking a lot of you, but he didn’t know if you had taken a hit to the head. Falling asleep could do more damage. “Hey, Y/N?” He said, watching as your eyes fell shut and your head slumped forward. “Hotch,” Reid said urgently from the backseat.

Understanding perfectly, Hotch hit the lights on the SUV and turned on the siren. Flashes of red and blue signaled to other drivers that there was an emergency.

You were silent.

As soon as they had gotten you to the emergency room, your entire demeanor had changed. Spencer guessed that you had been in fight or flight when they had picked you up from the phone booth, and now that you were getting the help that you needed, all of the fight had vacated your being.

In the white fluorescence of the hospital, he could see how drained you looked. Once the doctors got their hands on you, you refused to let him or your dad near you.

Hotch was in the hallway, talking on the phone with your Aunt Jessica while he tried to arrange childcare for Jack so he could stay with you - the leader of your care team estimated you’d be in the hospital for at least a few days.

While you had been mobile when they came to get you, your energy had left along with your adrenaline, and eventually, the best course of action was to just let you sleep. That was how Spencer ended up sitting cross-legged in a stiff hospital chair, watching over you as you slept.

Respectful of your wishes, he kept a fair distance from you, but you’d be hard-pressed to convince him to let you out of his sight. There were tubes and wires going every which way from your body, oxygen, an IV, and electrodes monitored your life. Boiling you down to a collection of numbers that showed Spencer just how alive you were.

The doctors suspected you had bacterial pneumonia, but they were still waiting on the results of your chest X-ray to make a formal diagnosis. Your presumed leg injury had turned out to be a bruised hip bone – part of a sickening pattern that reflected that of someone who had been thrown down a flight of stairs.

A knock on the window to your hospital room caught his attention, causing him to turn his head and come face to face with Rossi and Blake. Opening the blinds so that he’d be able to keep an eye on you from the hallway, Spencer stood up and joined his colleagues in the corridor.

“What’s the report?” Rossi asked, nodding in the direction of your room, and placing his hands on his hips.

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck before responding, “The doctor said that all things considered, she’s in good shape, but…” Shaking his head to wake himself up, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “She’s sick and was beaten. Right now, she’s sleeping. We have no idea she was running in the woods, so it’s not surprising that she’s exhausted.”

He continued on to list other maladies that the doctors had provided, dehydration, malnutrition, one cut on your arm that needed to be stitched, and that was just scratching the surface. Dave nodded understandingly, “but the sooner we get to ask her questions, the better.”

Shrugging, Spencer looked over at your father, and then back to you, “When she wakes up on her own,” he murmured, watching as a nurse checked on your IV. He didn’t want to risk waking you up or asking too much too soon of you. “Can I ask you a quick question?” He lifted a finger inquisitively to the nurse who was walking out of your room, scribbling something on your chart.

The nurse hummed in response, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to ask.

“Do you think the infection has anything to do with her silence? She might be hurting so she isn’t talking?” He asked, it wasn’t unheard of, when people were in a lot of pain, sometimes they coped with silence.

While the nurse might have an excellent bedside manner, the three profilers took note of the concern in her eyes. “The silence might have more to do with her psychological well-being than her physical well-being,” she responded, it was a healthcare way of trying to appease them. Really, they didn’t know much better than the members of the BAU did.

Blake’s eyebrows shot up in curiosity, “Could it be catatonia?”

“In order to diagnose catatonia, she’d need to display three of twelve symptoms. Those are stupor, catalepsy, waxy flexibility, mutism, negativism, posturing, mannerism, stereotypy, agitation, grimacing, echolalia, and echopraxia. So far, she really only meets one of twelve,” Spencer answered.

Shrugging, the nurse pointed at Spencer with her pen, “What he said.” She looked down at the chart before continuing, “Her care team leader called for a psych consult, but we won’t really know one way or the other until she wakes up.”

Nodding, Rossi nodded in acknowledgment, “What else could it be?”

Pursing her lips, the nurse tilted her head to the side, “Peritraumatic disassociation is another possibility, but again, we won’t know until she wakes up.”

The waiting game began. As luck would have it, an FBI agent being abducted created a lot of paperwork, so Hotch was holed up in a conference room while Rossi and Blake worked on the profile. JJ and Morgan stayed back at Quantico with Garcia to look back at what information Hotch and Spencer had been gathering over the past twenty-seven – now twenty-eight – days.

Spencer stayed with you, tucking your blanket around you when he watched goosebumps sprout along your arms. He paid close attention to everything that the doctors and nurses said about your condition, relaying everything to Hotch via text message. They ran a kit on you, and the only solace was that there was a chance that they could DNA match whoever did this to you.

He left that last part out of his message to your father.

As soon as you started waking up, Spencer had to leave the room, watching from the hallway as medical personnel flurried around your bed. At first, he had assumed your aversion to himself and your dad was an overall aversion to men, but you didn’t flinch when it came to the male doctor who was checking your vitals manually.

A nurse peeked out from the door, “Are you Dave?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Spencer cocked his head back in confusion, “No? I’m not – why?” He asked, gaze flickering back into your room as you scrawled something on the piece of paper that a nurse had handed you.

“She said she’d talk to Dave,” the inquiring nurse shrugged, turning back into your room, and adjusting your pillow beneath your head.

Still confused, Spencer slipped his phone out of his pocket, nimbly typing a message to Rossi before returning the phone to its home in his slacks. Trying to respect your peace, Spencer remained in the hallway, leaning back against the wall as he heard the familiar sound of Italian leather boots turning the corner. “Are you sure she didn’t mean Aaron?”

Spencer shook his head, mirroring the older man’s confusion, “She physically wrote your name out. She’ll only speak to you,” he answered, trying to hide his own pain for the sake of ridding you of yours. If you wouldn’t talk to your father or himself, it made the most sense that you’d talk to Rossi. You’ve known him the entire time your father worked in the BAU.

Shrugging, Rossi walked into your room and approached you with the care of a man approaching a deer. He remained this way until he made it to your bed, and Spencer watched as he smoothed your hair away from your face affectionately.

You leaned into his touch, and Spencer didn’t miss the cue. When was the last time anyone had touched you with love in their heart?

He had kissed you goodbye before you went on your run, just thirty minutes before your location turned off and your usual Thursday route turned into a hunting ground. With what you did for work, you switched paths frequently, but someone had been watching you, or at least, that was the conclusion the team had drawn.

Watching as Rossi spoke with you, Spencer noticed one anomaly – you weren’t speaking to him. Instead, all of his questions were answered with blinks or scribbling on paper.

The two of you went until a nurse came in, telling the both of you that they needed to run a few more tests. Taking his leave, Rossi told you something that Reid couldn’t quite make out and rejoined him in the hallway.

“What did you say to her? Just now?” Spencer asked, his need for any sort of contact with you becoming so desperate that he’d now accept it secondhand.

Frowning, Rossi placed both of his hands on his hips, “I called her piccolina, I used to call her that all the time when she was just a little thing running around the old BAU bunker.” Taking a moment, Rossi pulled out his little notebook and read through it. “White male, late twenties to early thirties, sometimes gone for days on end citing ‘work,’ but she never figured out what he did for work.”

Spencer’s eyes burned at the realization that you had been working your own case while being victimized, he peered in through the window as a nurse drew your blood.

“She said he drove a dark American sedan, making it either blue or black,” Rossi continued to list off, eyes following Blake as she approached the two of you. “Y/N said the car was filthy like he had been living out of it when he couldn’t get to her in the woods. The car had an Ohio party plate on it with expired tags.”

Blake arched a brow at the new information, “Party plate?” She said quizzically, looking at Spencer for clarification.

Nodding, Spencer looked over at his friend, “That’s the colloquial name for restricted license places. They’re given to people who are convicted of DUIs, which is actually called an OVI in Ohio. In Ohio, they’re yellow with red print, and the only state to have something similar is Minnesota where they call them whiskey plates because they all start with the letter W.”

“Well, he’s confident. Maybe too confident, driving around with expired tags and a license plate that already puts a spotlight on him,” Blake said thoughtfully, adding to the profile in her mind. “We should get this information to Garcia, maybe look for people who recently relocated from Ohio with those plates,” she suggested to Rossi.

Rossi nodded, skillfully flipping the cover back over his notepad and gesturing for Blake to follow him to the conference room, effectively leading Spencer to his own devices. When the nurse left to bring the vials of blood to the lab, he returned to your room, taking his seat on the edge of the room – as far away as he could get while keeping his eyes on you.

He looked up to your bed, catching you staring at him. As soon as you knew you had been caught, you turned your head to the other side, averting your gaze toward the window.

Every thirty minutes or so, Spencer moved the chair approximately five inches closer to you, by four in the morning, he had closed half of the space between you. He kept his eyes on you, watching as you stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. You had that crease between your eyebrows that told him you were thinking too hard, and he had to sit on his hands to stop himself from reaching out and touching it as if he could soothe all of your bad thoughts.

In the doorway, Rossi had appeared, garnering your attention as you propped yourself up on the flat hospital pillows. “We got him,” Rossi announced to the room, a reserved smile on his face.

Spencer watched as you visibly relaxed on the bed, your face softened as your eyebrows relaxed. Rossi explained some next steps, but he was only half listening, he could only focus on you.

Once Dave was gone, Spencer took a leap of faith and shuffled the chair to your bedside, “How are you feeling, angel?” He asked, taking up a muted tone.

You stared at him, blinking at him until, eventually, your face crumpled, and you leaned toward him.

Not missing a beat, Spencer stood up from his chair so that he could sit on the edge of your bed, meeting you in the middle, he gently wrapped his arms around you, rubbing small, soothing circles along your back with the flat of his hand.

In the past twenty-eight days, Spencer thought that being reunited with you could fix all of the hurt in his chest, but this, right here, was a different kind of pain. Tears sept through the fabric of his shirt just as soon as they fell from your eyes, and all of the hurt that he had felt before just morphed into a different kind of suffering.

His heart ached at the sight of you in this much pain, so much emotional turmoil that you had silenced yourself. What was he supposed to say in order to comfort you? ‘You’re okay,’ was wholly false, and ‘it’s alright’ felt like a cruel joke. You very clearly weren’t okay, and none of this was alright.

“I’m here,” he reassured you, his voice no more than a croak as he tried to swallow his own emotions. “I’m right here,” he repeated, continuing his ministrations on your back until you had cried yourself to sleep.

With your body in its weakened state, Spencer carefully adjusted you onto the bed, making sure none of your tubes or wires were kinked before settling back down in his chair and taking your hand in his.

Around the time the sun came up, your care team came through for morning rounds and woke you up to thoroughly inspect your status. Once they left you to your own devices – with the promise of food in half an hour – Spencer focused all of his attention on trying to coax you into speaking to him.

Tenderly, he dragged a finger across your forehead before continuing down the bridge of your nose, “I’d really like to hear your voice, sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, maintaining a subdued tone in the early hours of the morning.

He watched as you sighed, deflating all of the air in your lungs as you tipped your head to the side, interrupting his movements. “I asked him to do it,” you murmured, voice raspy from lack of use.

“To do what?” Spencer asked, heart beating a little faster at the sound of your voice. He watched how you nervously gripped a fistful of sheets and looked at him. Only you weren’t looking at him, it was more like you were looking through him.

You took a deep, shuddering breath before you answered, “To kill me.”

The confession weighed heavy on his shoulders, but it wasn’t regarding anything against you. It was in the realization that you had been in so much physical and emotional turmoil while in captivity that you had asked for your own death. That even for a moment, you sat in front of a killer and asked for him to end your life as an act of mercy.

Noting Spencer’s lack of response, you continued speaking, “That’s why he let me go. I begged him to just end it and that took away any appeal for him.”

Last night. You had pleaded on behalf of your own demise last night. Carefully considering his next words, Spencer met your eyes and replied, “That must’ve taken a lot of courage.”

You faltered for a moment, evidently not having expected those words from him, “What are you talking about?”

It made sense to him now, why you wouldn’t talk to him or your dad. He felt like such a fool. You had been ashamed because you felt like your abductor had diminished your worth by breaking you down. Spencer knew better, “You stood your ground. You faced your own death, and you chose that over further suffering. Dying isn’t an undignified act, no matter how it comes upon you,” he reminded you, smoothing your hair away from your face as he watched your lip quiver.

“Thank you for staying,” you croaked as emotion closed your throat.

Spencer hummed thoughtfully, swiping a rogue tear from your cheek, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #margot's requests #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort

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vxnuslogy · 2 months ago

Text

— will they, won’t they.

pairing: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader

premise: hoshina soshiro has been hopelessly in love with you for years now. and for the first time, you finally hear him say the words "i love you."

— warnings: down bad + jealous hoshina, modern setting, reader is a kyudo player.

— author's note: little miss says she's going on a break then proceeds to write about hoshina soshiro for all the dying fans (its me, i'm the dying fans.) art credits to @.BByo_chick on twitter.| ~700 words.

“how long are ya gonna keep me here?”

“no one is forcing you to.”

hoshina only clicks his tongue and stares at the dojo walls. his finger impatiently tapping at his chin as he hits crossed leg on the floors. it’s half past 5 in the afternoon now and you have no intentions of going home anytime soon.

“i’m gettin’ bored here,” he drawls, hands stretching over his head as he watches you shoot another arrow with pin-point accuracy that makes his smirk twitch uncomfortably. you’ve gotten too good at kyudo, and it shows.

“then go home,” you reply as you pull the bow back and aim for your next shot. “you don’t have to keep waiting for me to finish.”

but that was the thing: hoshina wanted to wait for you and he always will.

he wants everyone to know that you had him and he’s all you’ll ever need. there was no need for that guy who caught your fall a few days ago—not when he’s been catching you for the past 3 years. he was your guide in the train station every morning, so why do you keep trying to go to the station earlier and ask your junior for directions? hoshina soshiro was always by your side, so why couldn’t you see that?

“i’ll wait,” he murmurs into his hand, eyes looking at anything but at you. “got nothin’ to do at home anyways.”

it was a weak excuse, but it always does the trick. you always relent and let him stay but not without throwing a look over your shoulder that screams “you’re acting strange.” because he was. hoshina, against his will, feels his lips being tugged into a frown whenever you interact with anyone that isn’t him.

that sounds very bad–it is bad in a sense–but hoshina would never dream of taking away your freedom. so he just watches, painfully by the sidelines, with a scoff on his face as another student from a rival school stammers to ask for your number. it was irritating, having to watch everyone throw themselves at you when you’re clearly uninterested.

“what the hell will happen if i’m not by yer side, captain.” hoshina jests as you pack up your stuff and lock the dojo.

“is this about earlier?” you ask with an amused lilt to your voice. “when the new student asked for my number?”

hoshina hated how you always aimed for the heart.

“i have no idea what yer talkin’ about,” he weakly tries to change the topic. hoshina racks his brain to think of something—anything—to help change the conversation, but his mind keeps circling back to you. how you almost looked serious when some guy–who was leagues below you by the way–had the gall to ask you out for a date.

“never took you for the jealous type.” you tease.

“it’s because ‘m not.” he said through gritted teeth, hands balling into small fists against his school bag. “‘m lookin’ out for ya, alright? that guy was a creep. i’m keepin’ yer ass safe from weirdos.”

you looked unconvinced but didn’t comment on his unusual aggressiveness. hoshina let out a frustrated sigh, a hand coming to ruffle your hair and pull just a tiny bit closer that would make everyone question your relationship. this was driving him crazy but he couldn’t do anything about it.

“‘m not jealous. get that over yer pretty little head.”

and until you both got on the train and went your separate ways to go home, hoshina soshiro never once let your hand drop to your side. he kept you impossibly close to his side and whispered sweet good lucks into your ear. body so comfortably lax in your presence he was slouching on the train seat so he could bury his nose in your hair.

hoshina soshiro was so unfathomably in love with you.

how could he not love you when you use your own heartbeat to calm his erratic one during every competition? when every hug has his mind spinning with gold and you. every victory is dedicated to your name, and no trophy or medal could ever compare to the feeling of running into your arms and drowning in your praise.

“i love you.” he mutters as you sleep peacefully on his shoulder on your way home. how many years has he been saying it before he lost count? it’s truly just a matter of when you’ll wake up and finally realize it yourself.

he feels the blood rush to his brain as he throws himself on his bed, unable to wipe the image of you smiling as if you had heard him.

#soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no 8 x reader #first kn8 fic kinda nervous #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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moonstruckme · 21 days ago

Note

hello mae! all your spooky drabbles have been amazing, you’re so talented! i was wondering if i can request a poly!marauders spooky drabble where they have a horror/slasher marathon and both reader and sirius are being insufferable trying to predict who’s the killer and remus is just being the voice of reason to all their theories and james just enabling them, asking them questions and its all fluffy?? thank you! hope you’re having a great spooky season 🎃🫶

Thank you lovely!!

cw: suggestive content

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 821 words

“It’s that actress,” Sirius muses, voice softened the way it always gets when you play with his hair. “What’s her name?”

“That one?”

“Yeah.”

“Mia Goth.”

Sirius adjusts his head on your chest. “Right, her. She never really plays the innocent, does she?”

“Mm, you don’t think they’re trying to trick us?”

A door opens down the hall, and you jump a little. Sirius chuckles, giving you a squeeze where his arms are wound underneath your jumper. “Chicken.”

James waltzes into the living room looking properly rumpled. He’d dragged Remus away as soon as your workerbee boyfriend had gotten home, sequestering him in your bedroom.

“Our entertainment wasn’t good enough for you?” Sirius asks as he sits down.

James lifts Sirius’ legs, shuffling underneath so he’s closer to both of you. “Remus was gone all day,” he says simply. “I missed him.”

“I can see that,” you laugh, poking at a red mark on his neck. “Jamie, what happened here?”

“Shh.” James nestles in close to kiss the skin by your ear. “You should see the other guy.”

Remus walks in, nimble fingers buttoning his shirt, but not before you spot the half dozen hickeys scattered about his chest.

“You deviants,” Sirius gripes. You suspect he’s a tiny bit wounded at being left out of the lovefest. “Movie night is supposed to be for all of us, and now you’ve missed half the middle.”

“The middle’s always the most predictable part anyway,” says Remus, sitting down and putting his feet on the coffee table.

Sirius kicks at him vengefully. Remus catches his foot, casting him an unimpressed look while he presses his thumb into the ticklist part of Sirius’ arch. Your boyfriend yelps, yanking his foot back. His fingers tighten around your middle.

“Who are we thinking the killer is?” James picks up the bowl of kettle corn he’d abandoned on the coffee table earlier, scooping up a handful. Remus silently collects the pieces that fall onto the couch.

One of Sirius’ hands comes out of your sweatshirt to take a piece. “Maybe Mia Goth.”

“Ahh, I see. Who’s that?”

“The blonde one there,” you say.

“Oh, her.” James murmurs to Remus, “Have we seen her before?”

“Yeah, Jamie.”

“I don’t know, I kind of wonder if it could be the mom,” you say. “You don’t usually see any real adults in these. It seems like the setup for something.”

Remus hums. “Have any of her kids been killed?”

You frown. “Well, yeah.”

“I wouldn’t put my money on her, then.”

You and Sirius exchange a look. Remus has a pretty stellar track record when it comes to guessing the killer in these films. You both want him to be wrong, but he’s likely right.

“You never know,” says Sirius. He’s begun tracing patterns into your skin with his fingertips, phantom tattoos over your ribs. “They always have a partner in these things. Her partner could have betrayed her by killing one of the kids. Or she could be a psychopath that wants to escape the constraints of her domestic life, and this whole thing is just a way to kill off her kids without anybody suspecting her.”

“Diabolical,” James mutters, shoving more kettle corn in his mouth. Three pieces tumble to the couch, which Remus picks up.

“You guys always get caught up in the tropes,” Remus says. “It keeps you from seeing the logical choice.”

Sirius frowns up at you. You pet his head. “You’re no fun,” he says to Remus.

“Oi,” Remus laughs, “I’m only trying to help you.”

“They don’t want to know who the killer is, love,” says James, leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder consolingly. “They want to shoot off theories and then be surprised by the end.”

You and Sirius gawp. “That’s not true!” you say.

James looks genuinely confused. “It’s not?”

“No! Obviously we want to know who it is.”

“That’s it.” Sirius waves them away with a sweep of his hand. “Go back to your debauchery, leave us to enjoy our film.” He snuggles close to you, leaning up to kiss the underside of your jaw. “We won’t let them spoil it for us, sweetness.”

“Wait, no,” James laughs. “We’re sorry.”

“We won’t spoil anything,” Remus vows. He leans around James to give you a soft look, and you feel your lips tilt up unwillingly.

Sirius regards them both coolly. “You’ll be good for the rest of the film?”

Remus’ eyes flash with amusement, and he grabs Sirius’ foot again, the threat potent.

“We’ll be good,” James agrees.

You and Sirius look at each other, both pretending to deliberate whilst suppressing your grins. He’s much better at it than you are.

“All right,” he says magnanimously. “You can stay.”

“Good. It is our flat, too, you know.” James grabs a heaping fistful of kettle corn, bringing it to his mouth.

Several pieces overflow, falling to the couch. Remus sighs. “Honestly, James.”

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livelaughlovesubs · 1 month ago

Note

For the prompt event just one more from me- Writer's choice Freebee for any character and prompt(s) you want

As a treat

I WANNA WRITE LICKING BOOTS OR HEELS i dont really care which character

Dom!Rich!reader x sub!Broke!male!character

Warning: sadistic reader & masochistic character, sugar baby character, boots/ shoes licking (the soles too), dirt eating, power play, mention of vomit (didn’t happen), stepping, cumming untouched, degration

Anniversary event

He was just so pathetic you couldn’t help it. Really, it made your senses get disoriented whenever you pretty begs you with his tail between his legs, asking for money with an ashamed look across his face. Your sweet little sugar baby was insatiable, wasnt he? The audacity he had, to ask for more when he was already getting a lot— and he knew very well how ungrateful that must sound. That’s why the least he could do is get on his knee while hesitantly pleading with you, not even daring to look you in the eyes.

Gently, you tapped his clothed thighs with the tip of your shoe, staring down at him all amused. He didn’t know, since he wasn’t looking at you, but you enjoyed seeing him embarrass himself whenever he just acts so damn disgraceful. Slowly, you moved your leg upwards. First along his thighs, to his pelvis, ignoring his bulge— then tracing the outlines of his bellybutton, up to his chest and lastly— right below his chin and tilting his face upwards.

“What is it this time?” You questioned coldly, betraying your true emotions. “…I erm, god, c-could I get a little more ca-,,, pocket money?” His words were bitter, he felt uncomfortable muttering such things, be it due to shame or other reasons. “Didn’t you just got it last week?” He was dead silent, so quiet even, that he could hear the tapping of your finger on your knee. “I know- I just, I need it. Just a little bit, it’s not much to you anyway right?” How you adored that little tremble in his voice, he truly was tailored to fit your taste.

You sighed, acting all begrudgingly, “can’t you at least tell me why you need the cash?” Instead of answering, he just pleaded, “please, just a little more, I only need like 2k—!” You interrupted him by tapping his cheek with your shoe, chuckling in disbelief, “hah! A little? Sweetie, you think I’m a tree that grows money?” He was sweating a little, skin glistening under the low-saturated light of the lamp. “It means a lot to me, please… master?”

Would you look at that, now he’s using every trick in the book to try to win you over.

“That’s not enough to convince me~” you ended your sentence with a higher pitch, exposing yourself, giving him hints on what he should do. This was not the first time you’ve played this game with him, so luckily he still remembers your teachings. “I’ll do my best to persuade you then…” he whispered meekly, hands bawled into fists as he rests them on the ground, turning his face around a little to push your shoes to his lips.

With lingering skepticism, he stuck his tongue out, licking a long trail over the front of your footwear. The material was shining with his spit now, all clean and rid of any dust. The male grimaced silently, before swallowing the lump in his throat. You watched with preying eyes and a sadistic smirk, enjoying the show he was putting on for you. Next, he used the tip of his tongue to lick over the sides, trying hard to ignore the straight up awful taste of dirt. He didn’t even want to think about what exactly he was eating, squeezing his eyes shut, doing it with his intuition.

You helped him a little as well, moving your foot up and down to grant him easier access. A pool of arousal building in your stomach as you restrained your desire to be even more mean, to step and to kick him, to make him do even more nasty stuff— all that can wait. For now, you’ll focused on the appetiser.

Once he was done with polishing your shoes with his hot and wet muscle, he gulped down all the filth, pondering over whether or not this was enough. He didn’t need to think a lot, because you answered his confusions for him by pressing soles of your footgear against his face. “You aren’t done yet, pretty boy.” Shivers ran down his spine at the horrors and humiliation, though it turned into perverted lust in the matter of seconds. He had to take a few seconds to prepare himself mentally, but then he stuck his tongue out again.

He brought it across your soles once, licking all across the place. The taste of sand and was seems to be glass plagued his taste buds, and he gaged. Nonetheless, he managed to swallow it, at the price of feeling something coming up as he did. His cheeks darkened into a blush, droplets of sweat rolling down the sides of his forehead. You didn’t say much as you watched him with intense eyes. Even though he wasn’t looking up at you, he could still feel your gaze, and he shook slightly at the thought of that.

Many minutes passed, and the longer this went on, the more he became erect. Was it because of your watching gaze, piercing through his soul? Or was it due to his perverted nature, because he enjoyed the pain and humiliation? It was a question he didn’t want to answer, out of consideration for his remaining pride. The feeling of vomiting was tattering inside him, he felt a little nauseous as well, but he succeeded in pushing through it all, cleaning your shoes with great precision.

Soon, it was as clean as new.

At that point his tongue felt sore, and the sand was crunching between his teeth. Some tears were collecting in the corners of his eyes, all due to the overwhelmingly terrible taste. Finally, you talked again, he was starting to miss your voice, he desperately needed you to guide him through it all, to make him feel better. “Good job, you did so good, good boy.” You reached out to pat his head, stroking through his hair a little.

This gentleness was such a stark contrast to what happened only minuets before, that his entire body was shaken with pleasure. He couldn’t help but whine pathetically, bucking his hard on up against nothing. You didn’t even notice how he got hard, and how his pre was soaking through his pants already. Smiling all content, you pressed down on the tent with your now almost sparkling shoe, commenting, “such a dirty masochist, you enjoyed choking on the filthy that clung to my shoes? I guess that suits mutt like you.”

Again, he whined, bending forwards with his upper body, hands twitching to grab your ankle but he knew better than to act on his impulses. “Hnng.. y-yes.. I’m just a dirty mutt.” God, just look at how big your grin grew. “Well, but I can’t deny you did a great job. Fine I’ll give you 1K.” You then applied more pressure to his bulge, making him arch his back and moan out in blissful, ecstatic pain, “ahh-nHGHHh..!!??”

His eyes rolled to the back of his scull, drool running down his chin. This defiles form of his was more than depraved, it was sinful and degenerate. “To get to 2k… you’ll have to clean it again.” You stated, pressing down even more, causing him to cum into his pants. “HaaAaNNGghh…! Y/nnnNghh ♥︎♡～” He was already so worked up from before, and so sensitive due to your degration, please don’t blame him for cumming so fast…♡

Instead of being mad, you laughed, and brought your now in cum covered shoe to his lips again, tapping his flush lips. “So, get to work, pretty boy.”

He really needed the money after all, so he had no choice but to oblige, right? And it was surely sorely for the money ♥︎

(Edit: don’t ask why I wrote this with Toji in mind, also with the reader being younger [to add more shame], but that’s for you to decide)

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ctghost · 1 month ago

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okokok i can't stop thinking about @yan-randomfandom 's godling fic so here's some drabbles on ford's thoughts.. this can be some sort of continuation of this! (P.s i hope i'm not bothering by tagging you jdkdkrjk 😭😭)

part 1 part 2

visualization that inspired me

"Well i'll see you later, pines, until then!"

Ford wakes up.

You really aren't just a piece of his dream. But he can't just believe fact that you aren't bill. Second dimensional, wearing a bowtie, and all that. Who would know if he could just be wearing some sort of bizarre skin?

But then he starts thinking what you just called him. Pines. Bill never called him that. All his years studying and time with bill, he had never heard anything about a deity like you. Could you possibly be from the same dimension as bill? If so, wouldn't that mean you're bill's ally? That's got to be the only logical reason here. You're likely trying to trick him to be able to make a deal with you. Well that sure isn't gonna work now.

But he had to be sure.. maybe this night he'll try to get some answers out of you.

"You're not here to make a deal, are you?"

"Deals aren't my forte,"

"I do wishes."

"Is that so? Well then, how many wishes?"

"One." His eyebrows furrowed at that. "Bill-"

"I am not Bill Cipher."

"You could use your wish to help me gain my memories back, or you could use it for yourself, it's your choice, really."

After a little more talk, he knows now that you are likely not lying, and that really don't have any recollections of your own past, and even your name. Still, he couldn't just trust you. Everyone knows what happened the last time that happens. He still needs to fish out as many answers as he could get.

But you probably even don't have much to give anyway, since all your replies are just "i don't know" or "i don't remember". He became slightly frustrated at your lack of vary answers, but guess he should appreciate you not trying to twist any truth there is.

Back in the mindscape, Ford's deep in his thoughts as he observes you moving around almost boredly. There's just so many questions.

If he really used his wish to get your memories back, would you be indebt to him? Or would you try to burn the world down just like bill?

He let out a small sigh, but soon a realization hit him, You can read his mind. If bill has that power, you could do the same-

He suddenly jumped, alarmed. You paused what you were doing and looked at him. "You alright there, pines?"

He was about to retaliate- but seeing your almost sincere and confused look on just a singular eye, he calms down abit from his overthinking. Just because you have similiar physical traits, you're not bill. Atleast not as far as he knows now with your memory loss.

You can't hurt him. Not in the mindscape anyway.

"I'm fine." He finally replied, after seeing that you were still staring at him.

He should probably start investigating to see if there's anything out there that could tell him more about you.

Aka, ford keeps comparing you to his ex muse after first few meetings

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines #yandere ford pines #ford pines x reader #yandere stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #ford pines #yandere gravity falls #txt #my art #writing

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mingis-orangejuice · 3 months ago

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Using Reverse Psychology On The Demon Bros

Warnings/Genres: manipulation(in a cute way, kinda?), mentions of diets (only in Beel’s part) fluff, crack

I feel like all the Brothers would fall for reverse psychology so easily. I don’t think MC would purposely try to manipulate them (at least not all the time), they would just say things that happen to make the brothers suddenly want to help them lol

Lucifer

-He’s literally the avatar of pride, if you wound his pride he’d be quick to try and prove you wrong

-MC: Lucifer can you help me with my potions homework?

-Lucifer: MC, can’t you see I'm extremely busy with paperwork for Lord Diavolo so that will have to wait for now

-MC: Fine, I guess I'll just go ask Satan, he’s the smart one anyway… *turns to leave *

-Lucifer: *is instantly standing in front of you within half a second looking all flustered and grabs your notebook from you* Let me take a look at that for you

Mammon:

-Even tho he’s a Simp for you he’s also a bit lazy so you’ll need to ask him multiple times for help when it comes to any type of hard work.

-MC: Mammon, can you help me carry some boxes from the attic Lucifer says we need to start getting rid of some of the useless junk up there.

-Mammon: Nah I got better things to do than menial labour for Lucifer

-MC: ok I guess I‘ll ask Beel to help, He can probably carry all the boxes in one trip, we’d get it done so quickly ☺️

-cue Mammon zooming up to the attic trying to stack all the boxes to prove that he can lift way more than his little brother.

Levi:

-Levi would definitely be the easiest to trick with this since he’s already constantly jealous of his brothers anytime they spend time with you.

-MC: Levi it’s my day to cook dinner do you want to come shopping for the ingredients with me?

-Levi: Sorry MC I’m on hour 9 of rewatching TSL, plus it's too bright outside. Why don’t you pull up a cushion and we can watch it together?

-MC: Oh that's ok I guess I'll go ask as Asmo, he’s been wanting to take me out on a date anyway *You close his door and start walking down the hall to Asmo’s room

-Levi: D..D..D.. Date! Wait MC no I’ll take you, I didn’t realize you were asking me out on a date, wait please come back!

Satan:

-I feel like he would also get jealous really quickly. Especially if you bring up Lucifer he would go full-on rage mode. Basically, anything that works on Lucifer will work on him too.

-MC: *pointing to one of the many books in his room* can I read that one? it looks cool.

-Satan: No MC it's cursed you could get hurt

-MC: ok *walks away*

-later MC is on the couch reading a book they borrowed from Lucifer

-Satan: *sees you reading the book Lucifer recommended, runs to his room to get the cursed book you wanted to read earlier* wait MC read this instead !!!!

-MC: but you said it was cursed

-Satan: it's fine I’ll figure out how to cure you just drop that other book NOW!

Asmo:

-Asmo would definitely get upset if you complimented someone else

-he wants to be the only one MC goes to for beauty advice

-MC: Asmo can you share your skincare routine with me?

-Asmo: My dear MC I can't just give away my secrets to looking this gorgeous *walks away*

-later at RAD

-MC talking to Simeon: Wow Simeon your skin is positively glowing what products do you use, you’re so beautiful!

-Simeon: *blushing* oh, let me show you, I use…

-Asmo who had been eavesdropping: *Grabs MC’s arm* MC why don’t we head home I have to show you how gorgeous I look when I’m doing my skincare routine!

Beel:

-I don’t wanna be cliche but reverse psychology would only work on Beel if it was about food

-Beel is always ready to help so there wouldn’t be too many situations where you’d get to use reverse psychology on him. Like if you asked him to help carry something he would do it, no questions asked.

- but if you wanted some of his food, especially if it was something special that he’s been looking forward to it might be a bit difficult.

-MC forgot their lunch and saw Beel eating in the cafeteria: Beel can I have some of your food it looks really good!

-Beel: *looks at MC and then looks at his food* uh this is the limited edition Goliath Hellfire pizza from Hell’s Kitchen each customer is only allowed to purchase 1 in their entire lifetime.

-MC: oh it's okay I just hadn’t had lunch today, I guess I can just go ask Asmo for some of his lunch

-Beel: *Grabs MC’s wrist to stop them from leaving* Asmo is on a diet again so there’s no way he has enough for both of you to get enough, here MC have some of mine *sits MC down and hands them a slice of pizza that's almost double the size of their body

(this one was a stretch cuz I feel like Beel would have given MC some food anyway but I couldn’t think of anything for him, but I also didn't want to leave him out)

Belphie:

-He is the definition of unbothered he doesn’t care if you go out with the others cuz he’s too lazy to go out but also he knows the moment you sit down he can just fall asleep on you and now you’re stuck with him

-but other than that I think he’d be just a little possessive of his nap stuff tho like blankets pillows etc…

-you know he has the best stuff so if you want to have a great sleep you’ll need to ask to borrow them.

-MC: Belphie can I use your fancy sleep pillow I can’t sleep

-Belpihe: *pretends to sleep on the couch so he doesn't have to give MC his favourite pillow*

-Mammon: Don’t worry MC come sleep on my bed it's crazy comfy you'll definitely fall asleep right away.

-Belphie: *Throws the pillow at MC and pulls them onto the couch to take a nap with him-Mammon: Hey they were gonna sleep in my room tonight!

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bloatedandalone04 · 3 months ago

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To The One I Love - 4

Series Masterlist

➪in which your parents come to see you, and you quickly realize how many moments you’ve forgotten in not only your life, but theirs as well.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You slept for longer this time, Tyler knew that because he fell asleep after you and woke up before you did.

It was now day three, and your parents had finally been able to sort out a way to get here. They would be driving instead of flying, so it would take them a bit longer, but at least they were on their way.

He plugged his phone in and was just about to close his eyes again, but a soft knock sounded on the door, followed by Dr. James poking his head in. “Bad time?”

Tyler glanced over at you before shaking his head. “No, she’s just sleepin’. We talked a lot yesterday, I think it may have worn her out,”

“That’s alright,” James nodded, “It’s good that she’s responsive and awake. It’d be a different story if she were still asleep and hadn’t woken up yet.”

Tyler didn’t even think about that. You hit your head pretty hard, what if you had never woken up? He didn’t even want to picture that reality, especially since he was still trying to get used to his current one.

“Anyway,” the doctor continued once he realized that Tyler hadn’t said anything back. “I’ll have to wake her up so I can check her stitches and replace the bandage.”

Tyler nodded, reaching over to grab and squeeze your hand, taking it upon himself to wake you up. A quiet call of your name and another squeeze of your hand did the trick, and soon enough your eyes opened.

Dr. James quickly rounded the side of your bed, a new, clean bandage in his gloved hand. “Hi, Y/n,” he greeted with a smile, and you smiled back before looking over at Tyler. “I’m just here to change your bandage and check on your stitches, is that alright?”

You nodded slowly, still waking up as you shifted higher against the pillow. “Will it hurt?”

Tyler felt a small smile form on his face at your question, and he moved the chair closer to your bed as he laced his fingers with yours. “It shouldn’t. I’ll remove it slowly in case the stitches are stuck to the bandage,”

You bit your lip and nodded again, more hesitant this time. “It’ll be fine,” Tyler assured you, and you glanced over at him again with a nervous look on your face. “You’ll be fine, baby.”

James slowly loosened the bandage around your head and pulled it away, and the edge of the stitches were a bit stuck to it. Your hand squeezed Tyler’s at the faint tug, but then the used fabric was successfully removed and set aside.

This was the first time Tyler has seen your head injury since the day you got it, and it already looked a lot better. Granted, he saw it a mere few minutes after it happened, and he couldn’t see much since you were bleeding profusely, so really, what did he know?

He hadn’t realized how big it was, with one end starting in the middle of your forehead and the other going past your temple and nearly halfway on the side of your head. Your skin was bright red and irritated, and there were a few spots of blood here and there, but the stitches were looking good.

Tyler let you hold his hand with a death grip as Dr. James gently cleaned up the skin around your stitches, then he rubbed some clear stuff over them before reapplying a new bandage. “There we go,” he commented, stepping away from you as he discarded his gloves. “That’s better. It should be time for your medication soon, too, so I’ll send Nurse Karson in within the next few minutes.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

“Thanks,” Tyler added as James left the room, then he turned back to you with a grin. “You did so well, babe. Only broke two of my fingers.”

You blushed at his tease, looking down to see just how tightly you were holding his hand. “Sorry,” you mumbled, loosening your grip. “I was nervous.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured, “You can squeeze my hand whenever you want.”

You smiled at him, pressing your lips together. “I’m really glad I have you here with me, Ty…” you trailed off, and Tyler felt his heart swell at the nickname you haven’t given him in three days. Before this, you always called him Ty and rarely called him Tyler, so to hear it now was nearly enough to bring a few tears to his eyes. “I don’t know what I would do if I was here by myself. I don’t want to be alone.”

Tyler shook his head, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You’ll never be alone, baby,” he promised, “Not as long as I’m alive, you won’t.”

Your expression softened as your fingers gripped his tighter. A faint pink blush coated your face as you gave his hand a soft tug, murmuring, “C’mere…”

He stood, letting your hand pull him closer so his thighs were pressed against the side of the bed. His heartbeat was loud in his ears as you reached for his other hand and pulled him so he was leaning over, and when he was close enough, you released both his hands in order to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Tyler felt himself begin to melt against you, but he still made sure he wasn’t putting too much of his weight on your body as he gently hugged you back. He buried his face against the side of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent that only belonged to you. It felt like it had been weeks since he last touched you, not a mere three days, so he wasn’t holding himself back too much.

“I can’t tell you how much that means to me,” you whispered, gently pressing your face against his shoulder. “God, I’d be lost without you, Tyler. Literally.”

He smiled against your hair before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’d be lost without you,” he murmured, and he meant it with every inch of him. “The fact that you’re willin’ to stay with me even though you don’t remember what we were…Your trust in me is everythin’. You’re everythin’.”

You pull away and Tyler had to force himself to let you go, sitting next to you on the bed instead of going back to that God awful chair. “Tyler…did you and I…did we have a bonfire at some point? I don’t know if it was a dream or real, but I remember a bonfire, and you and I were really drunk and all over each other,” you hesitantly ask, playing with your fingers as you look over at him.

Tyler’s eyes widened a bit as he thought back to a few summers ago, when he and the gang had one of the biggest chases ever and you suggested he throw a get together the next night to celebrate.

He spent a good portion of the next morning gathering logs and branches, and he invited over a bunch of people to your house. That was the first summer you spent living in that house, and it was definitely a great way to start off that chapter of your lives.

You were right, you and Tyler did have too much to drink and were practically the embodiment of the word ‘PDA’ as nothing was off limits. Boone teased Tyler relentlessly the next time they saw each other since Tyler couldn’t keep his hands off you that night and ended up taking you to bed before the party even ended.

Tyler felt himself sit up straighter, “You remember that night?” He asked for clarification, and you nodded slowly.

“I think so…we were celebrating something I think,” you trailed off then you sat up straight, too. “Wait, so that happened? That wasn’t a dream?”

Tyler shook his head, a hopeful look on his face. “No, baby, that wasn’t a dream,” he murmured, taking your hand in his. “That was real. It happened a few years ago.”

You squeezed his hand, your eyes never breaking away from his. “What does this mean?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, reaching over to softly grip your chin. “But it’s a good thing. It’s a really good thing.”

Your eyes were looking a bit brighter now, and you looked more lively. It was a glimpse of who you were before the latest storm, and Tyler knew he missed that version of you, but he wasn’t aware of just how much. But he loved you before, and he loved you even more now.

“Ty,” you start, opening your mouth to continue but before you could, the door opened and Nurse Karson walked in with a grin.

“Sorry for interrupting,” she apologizes, making her way over to the other side of your bed. “I have your medication. How are you feeling today?”

You watched as she set the cup of pills onto the table before your eyes met Tyler’s again. “Better,”

After that, your pain medication kicked in real quick and soon enough you were sleeping again. Tyler had retreated back to the chair and had his legs propped up on your bed as he scrolled through the channels on the TV, the volume muted so he didn’t wake you up.

But the quiet didn’t last long as the door swung open and hit the wall behind it with a soft thud, and you jolted awake as your parents came stumbling into the room. “Oh, Y/n,” your mother gasped as she ran over to you, her hand reaching out to gently caress your face.

“We came as soon as we could, honey,” your dad said as he stood behind your mom. “How are you feeling? How’s your head?”

You were clearly still a bit shaken up at the sudden wakeup, but you relaxed once you took your mom’s hand. “I’m okay…my head is okay today,”

“Thank God,” she let out a deep sigh, looking back up at your dad. “We were a nervous wreck, sweetheart. We couldn’t find someone to watch Louis and your fathers boss was being a real prick about the whole thing and-”

“Who’s Louis?” You asked as you looked between your parents. “Do I have a brother I forgot about?”

Your dad’s eyes widened and a strangled scoff left his lips as he shook his head. “God, no,” he grunted. “Louis is the Aussie mix you got us as a going away gift.”

“I got you a dog?” You gasped, looking over at Tyler. “We got them a dog?”

“It was your idea,” he raised his hands and sat up in the chair.

“Where’s our dog?” You asked with a pout and Tyler laughed.

“We don’t have one,” he answered. “Yet.”

You give him a hopeful look before your mom brings your attention back to her. “I guess that means your memory isn’t back yet?”

“No,” you quietly reply, looking down at your hands. “But I remembered something from a few years ago earlier today. It’s a good thing.” You repeated Tyler’s words, and he glanced up and shared a look with your dad.

“How are you doing, Ty?” He asked as he placed his hands on your moms shoulders. “How are you holding up?”

Tyler forced out a smile, feeling his eyes burn at the sudden question being directed at him. He preferred it when the attention was solely on you, so he could suffer in silence. “I’m good,” he lied, a tight grin on his face.

You looked over at him again and it was like you knew he was faking it, and somehow that comforted him. “Tyler’s been my rock,” you say, reaching over to take his hand in yours. “He’s been here the whole time.”

Your father locked his jaw as if he, too, was holding back his emotions. “I’m glad you have him,”

“We’re so grateful, Tyler,” your mom added, tears fully streaming down her face. “You were there for her when we couldn’t be.”

“Hey,” you sternly said, softly glaring at your parents. “Don’t say that. You couldn’t have known.”

Your mom shook her head, taking the tissue your dad held out to her with a grateful smile. Your parents reminded Tyler of you and him, and they were also high school sweethearts and still going strong. He knew that you and he could do it, too. “I know, but still. I feel terrible that we weren’t here when you needed us,”

“Mom, it’s okay,” you whisper, squeezing her hand. “Really.”

She nods, wiping at her eyes before leaning in and brushing your hair out of your face. “You just focus on getting better, sweetheart,” she murmured, pressing a faint kiss to the bandage on your head. “We’re here now, okay?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” your dad agreed and you gave them both a tired smile.

You whispered, “Thank you,” before turning to Tyler. “And you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he mumbles, “You know I’m here for you. Always.”

Your dad clears his throat, wrapping his arm around your mom’s shoulders. “Get some sleep, honey,” he said, “The doctor said you need your rest to recover.”

You nodded, leaning back on the bed. “Can you find out when I’m allowed to leave? I hate being stuck in this bed. The sheets are scratchy,”

He laughed, “I’ll see what I can find out,”

Your mom followed after him then stopped to look at Tyler. “How’s the coffee here? Is it any good?”

Tyler gave her a regretful smile and shook his head, giving her all the information she needed.

“Damnit,” she muttered, giving you a sheepish smile before scurrying back over to you and kissing your cheek multiple times.

“God, mom, really?” You whined, gently pushing her away.

“Don’t ‘mom’ me,” she scoffed, wiping at her eyes again. “You don’t know the hell your father and I went through when we found out what happened.”

Your expression softened as you bit your lip. “Sorry…”

Your mom waved you off, placing a comforting hand on Tyler’s shoulder before making her way to your dad who was still hovering by the door. “Don’t be,” she shook her head. “Are you hungry? Maybe I can find you something nice in the cafeteria.”

Tyler looked down, knowing she most likely wouldn’t be able to find a damn thing that looked nice in that cafeteria, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that. “We’ll be back, honey. And we’ll try not to scare you this time,” your dad grinned before guiding your mom out of the room so they could start on the tasks you’d given them.

You stared at the door for a few more seconds before letting out a breath of air. “Holy shit, Ty,” you gasped in disbelief. “My dad has a full on beard now.”

Tyler laughed, realizing that you were probably so used to seeing your dad with a shaved face since he only started growing his beard two years ago. Before that, his face was hairless, and Tyler could see how odd that would be for you. “Yeah, he’s been workin’ on that for a while now,”

“He’s gotten so scruffy,” you laugh quietly, and Tyler could see your eyes start to water. “And my mom’s gotten so skinny…and I don’t remember any of it. They’ve been living their lives the last ten years and I don’t remember it.”

Tyler’s face softened and he knew that you had hidden your true feelings from your parents. “Baby,” he trailed off, not knowing what he could say to make you feel better. There was nothing he could say to make you feel better. “I know things are hard right now, but you just need to focus on gettin’ better, like your mom said. Those memories are still there, somewhere inside that gorgeous head of yours, it’ll just take time.”

He hoped, anyway. But if you truly never got back all your memories, he would be able to accept that, because at least he still had you.

You nodded and cuddled under the scratchy sheets of the hospital bed. “I’m going to try to sleep for a little longer, okay? My head’s a mess right now. Well, more than it was before,”

Tyler hummed in understanding, reaching over to lace his fingers with yours.

He stayed beside you while you slept, and around fifteen minutes passed before the door opened and Dr. James walked in. “I saw that her parents are here and wanted to check on her, make sure she isn’t overworking herself,”

“No, they were easy on her,” Tyler answered and James nodded. “Hey, um…before they got here, she remembered somethin’ that happened kinda recently. A bonfire party we threw a few years ago…”

The doctor raised his brows and stepped further into the room, being careful not to make any unnecessary noise. “Well, based on her recent memory tests we did and now this, it seems like it’s improving,”

Tyler didn’t want to get his hopes up, so he just shifted casually in the chair, keeping his voice low. “So she’s gettin’ her memory back? Slowly?”

“While there are signs of improvement, nothing is certain,” he explained and Tyler didn’t feel as deflated as he would’ve had he allowed his hopes to overtake the rational side of him. “Recovery isn’t always linear. There will be setbacks and periods when progress feels nonexistent. But, the fact that she remembers something from a more recent time in her life is a big step in progress.”

“So it’s possible for her to remember our relationship? Most of it, anyway?”

“That might take a bit more time,” he answered quietly. “Memories of loved ones are deeply rooted in emotional connections. While her short-term memory is improving, moments from a few years ago or more will likely start to return. It’s an unpredictable process that can’t be rushed.”

Tyler wasn’t sure if he properly understood a single word of that, but he knew that you remembering the bonfire was a good sign, and that’s all he needed to hear. “Did her father happen to ask when she is allowed to leave?”

James laughed quietly. “Oh, yeah. He mentioned how eager she is to get out of here, and I don’t blame her. She’ll have to stay here for another couple days,” he told Tyler. “Since we’ve concluded that her head was the only severe injury she received, and since we can’t do much about her memory loss, we can’t keep her here for much longer.”

Tyler held back a smile as he nodded, glancing over at you. “Thank you,” he whispered, his attention fully on you now since he knew he would be taking you home soon. “I’ll let her know when she wakes up.”

Dr. James nodded before leaving the room, and Tyler moved the chair closer to the bed. He couldn’t wait to go home. He hadn’t been there since your accident, and he missed the familiarity of the house he shared with you. He hoped that maybe being in a new (but technically old) environment would trigger something in your mind and it would lead to you remembering the moments you and he shared in the home.

Ten minutes go by before your dad enters the room, a cardboard box in his hand and a timid look on his face. “She asleep?”

“Yeah,” Tyler answered and watched as your dad slowly closed the door before making his way to the other side of your bed and sitting down on the chair near the window. A smile formed on his face at the logo on the box, and he lifted a brow, “You couldn’t find anythin’ in the cafeteria?”

Your dad shook his head as he placed the takeout box on the bedside table. “No, nothing good enough for her. I just grabbed something nice from the place down the road. Doctor said it was okay,”

Tyler hummed, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear while you slept, “She can go home soon, did he tell you that, too?”

“Yeah, I meant to tell her before I left, but thought you might’ve asked about it, too,” he grunted, his eyes softening as he watched Tyler sit back in the chair. “You’re part of the family, Ty, you know that. You’ve always been. I need you to know how grateful her mom and I are that you were here for her as soon as it happened. You were the one who found her and brought her in, right?”

“Yeah,” Tyler mumbled, not wanting to relive the moment he saw you with that open gash on your head. “It was me and Lilly. She kept me sane while we waited.”

Your dad gave him a tight smile. “Tell her I said thank you. And thank you, Tyler. Knowing she wasn’t alone for a single second while we weren’t here…it means the world,”

Tyler’s eyes stung a bit as he shook his head. “No need to thank me. You know how in love I am with her. I can’t live without her,”

“You and me both,” your dad laughed, his own eyes a bit watery. “Anyway, I do have to thank you. I want you to know that we appreciate everything you’ve done for her.”

“‘Course I do,” Tyler mumbled, sniffling and quietly clearing his throat as he felt himself get a bit annoyed at the fact that he didn’t have control over his emotions right now. “And you know I’ll be with her everyday once she’s back at home. We’ll take it slow.”

Your dad gave him a firm nod as your mom walked into the room, a frustrated look on her face. “How’s she doing?” she asked just as your eyes slowly opened. “Hey, sweetheart, how are you?”

“I’m fine,” you whispered, shifting so you were sitting up against the bed. “Why do you look so pissed off? And why does dad look like he’s crying? Why are you crying?” You directed that last question to Tyler, and he quickly looked away and tried to subtly wipe at his eyes.

“I’ve been trying to get some time off work so we can stay here with you, but now my boss is being a prick,” your mother mumbled, “You’d think after seven years of not complaining, working overtime and going above and beyond, I’d get a little sympathy. Son of a-”

“Okay, mom,” you quickly cut her off, a laugh escaping you after. “It’s okay. You guys don’t need to risk your jobs for me. There’s not much you can do, right? My head will heal, and no one can control my memories. Please, stay as long as you can, but don’t get fired for me. Please.”

Your dad opened his mouth to protest, but sighed instead. “We’ll stay as long as we can, honey. But you know I don’t give a rat’s ass about my job, right? You’re my daughter, you come first,”

“I know, and I love you both more than words can explain, but I can’t be the reason you lose your jobs,” you murmur. “You both know there’s only so much you can do, the rest is up to me.”

Your mother nodded, her angry expression softening as she looked down at her phone. “Oh, here he is again,” she muttered. “Hang on, sweetheart. Eat some of the food we got for you, okay?” She gestured towards the takeout box before stepping out into the hall, and you looked over at the table.

“You guys got me actual food?” You asked in disbelief as you reached for it.

“Yeah, I promise it’s better than the shit they serve here,” your dad grunted before standing up. “I’ll go get you some water.”

Then it was just you and Tyler in the room again, and you looked over at him with a sad smile on your face. “I feel terrible for making them come all the way here,”

“Don’t worry about that, babe,” he mumbled, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I don’t think they’d be anywhere else right now. They love you so much. And so do I. Besides, I don’t mind sharin’ you for a bit.”

A blush takes over your face as you press your lips together. You meet his eyes and smile, and he loves you so much. Your eyes, your smile, your personality, all of it.

“That smile,” he whispered, leaning over towards you. “I’ve missed it.”

You blush again and forget about the takeout box as you pull on his hand. “Come here…” you mumble and he stands up. “I just want to be close to you for a bit.”

Tyler sat down next to your thighs, “Is this better?”

“It’s perfect,” you grin up at him. “Are we one of those super touchy couples?”

A smirk formed on his face as Tyler settled next to you. “You mean, are we a couple who can’t keep their hands off each other?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah. We’re definitely one of those couples.”

You smile and look down at the bed. After a few seconds, you let out a sigh. “I wanna go home,” you say quietly, looking back up at him with teary eyes. “I don’t even remember it, but I want to go there. I wanna go there with you.”

Tyler reached over and wiped your tears away, his brows furrowing in barely-concealed anguish. “You will, baby. Soon,” he promised. “Dr. James said you’ll only be in here a couple more days, then I’ll take you home and look after you myself.”

“Really? I can go home soon?” You asked, a hopeful look in your eyes as you gripped his hand tightly.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Real soon. For now, eat some dinner and let me do all the worryin’.”

You nod and smile at him, wiping away your tears before reaching for the box again, and Tyler held your hand the entire time you ate.

#grumpys glen grove #tyler owens #to the one i love series #tyler owens twisters #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens smut #tyler owens x reader #twisters movie #twisters 2024 #twisters #tyler owens x you #tyler owens fanfiction #glen powell #jake seresin #twisters imagine #twisters imagines #twisters x reader #twisters fanfic #to the one i love

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antiquarianfics · 5 months ago

Text

Accidental pt. 2

What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

warning(s): canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity

a/n: the comments on the last pt. were so affirming, omg. thanks, guys. anyway, here's a second part. ig the same idea stands: if this does well, maybe i'll do a pt. 3?

part 1

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

"You're looking for a man by the name of Barnes, James Barnes. He's the owner of the bar you took me from, and he's the head of the Barnes Family. He'll have the answers you're looking for."

"Where can I find him?"

The man grins, a dashing smile.

“I’m right here, Doll.”

—

Somehow, against your instincts, you manage not to take a step back. You keep your feet planted in front of the man, eye twitching a little, jaw clenching.

“You’re James Barnes?” You say, voice devoid of any real emotion.

“Disappointed? Looking for someone less handsome?” He shoots you a cheeky grin.

You scoff. “More like I wasn’t expecting to kidnap a mob boss.”

James laughs, a genuine laugh. “No, I bet you weren’t. However, I do have to say, I’m impressed. Not just anyone can take me by surprise.”

“How long?” You ask, ignoring his praise.

“What?” He raises an eyebrow.

“How long until your men come looking for you? I expected more time, but with you being in charge…” You trail off.

“Ah, yes.” He glances down at the very expensive watch on his wrist. “Well, if it’s 11 now, I’d say… ah. 7 hours before anyone notices.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That long? Really? Are you sure you’re important?”

He grins at you, a dashing grin. You shake your head slightly. You shouldn’t be thinking about his smile right now--you shouldn't be teasing him.

“Very. But my people know not to bother me at night. What I do on my own time is my business. You’re in the clear as long as I show up on time to my meeting. If I’m not there... Well, then people begin to worry.”

You let out an involuntary laugh. “In the clear? You're telling me I’m going to get away with kidnapping you? Actually, don't answer that. You're baiting me, and distracting me. I need answers. Back to my sister. Where is she?"

"I was wondering if you'd forgotten about that."

"Answer the question," you say, stepping forward and putting your knife back up against his throat. It seems to do the trick.

James' face grows serious, as if the man in front of you was no longer playing around with you and had switched into his regular business persona.

"She's alive."

You let out a relieved breath. Alive is something. Alive is good.

"Where are you keeping her?"

"Well, doll, I can't just tell you that."

"Sure you can," you say, repeating your words from earlier.

He smirks, "Why don't you just take the knife away from my throat first? I'm precious goods."

You roll your eyes at him, but you pull the knife away. You hold the knife up to him as if to say I will pull this out again and set it down on the table a few feet away, and as you turn around, you pull a chair from the same table up to James, placing it right in front of him. You sit, an expectant look upon your face.

"Look, doll, why don't you just go ahead and untie me now that you've put that knife away, and we can have a friendly talk about this?" He asks.

You scoff, yet again. This man, you think, is insufferable.

"Try again, pretty boy."

"So you think I'm pretty?" He smirks.

"I think you're annoying, and I think you know where my sister is. So, how about you stop wasting my time and tell me what I want to know?"

He sighs dramatically and lets his head roll to the side as if he's bored before lifting it to look you directly in the eye.

"Like I said before, she owed me something she couldn't repay."

"What's that?"

"That information's gonna cost you, sweetheart."

"You're in no position to be negotiating right now," you say indignantly.

"Sure I am. Don't forget I'm the most powerful man in Brooklyn."

"Don't forget you're tied up and I have a gun."

"You wouldn't shoot me."

"Fucking try me, doll."

He laughs, a real, genuine laugh. "Agree to my terms, sweetheart, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

You huff. "What are your terms?"

"'Atta girl!" He exclaims cheerily.

You grab your pistol from its holster at your side and aim it at the man in front of you, resting the gun on your thigh. He glances down at it before raising his gaze back up to you. He clears his throat, but something tells you it's not because he is nervous.

"Go on a date with me."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He's joking, you think. A date?

"A date?"

"A date."

"You want to go on a date with the woman who knocked you out, dragged you to an unknown location, tied you up, is demanding information from you, and is currently pointing a gun at you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons."

"How do I know you won't just kill me when I show up?"

"Because that wouldn't be very gentleman like of me. My mama raised me better."

"You're a mob boss. You extort and kill people for a living."

He shrugs. "Well, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

"No," you say.

"No?" He asks, confused.

"I have my own conditions." James tilts his head slightly as a signal to go on.

"You've already confirmed that my sister is alive which confirms you have her locked up somewhere. You will let her go and forgive her debt for whatever the hell it is that she owes you. Do that and once she is safely at home and I've laid eyes on her, you can have that date. Do we have a deal?"

James is staring at you, and as much as you hate it, you can't read him. Your heart is pounding, and you're hoping, praying even, that you've not pushed too far.

"Deal."

You blink once, twice before it registers that he has accepted the deal. Damn, you think, he really wants that date.

"Have her home by... What time was your meeting again? 7? Have her home safely by 7 tomorrow," you say, standing up from where you sat in front of him. You begin to move around the basement, picking up your things that you had brought with you in the whole kidnapping ordeal. Once you've collected your things, you start walking towards the stairs to leave. "If she isn't there, the deal's off."

"You're just going to leave me here?" James asks, pulling at his arm restraints.

You look over your shoulder at him and smile at him. "You're a mob boss, doll, I'm sure you'll get out of there in time." Then, with that, you ascend the stairs.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky x you #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #marvel angst #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!au

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tgcg · 8 months ago

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this is my element (+ album)

asking me to pick my fave album is like asking an orphan matron to pick her favorite baby boy

thats some weird and cruel circumstances to put upon me i feel like it changes every damn week like a rota

i mean what if my beats misbehave and i gotta put 'em in time out i cant play permanent on that theyre too cute

but yknow what i can show you one thing thats been on my mind lately

===

so when i was a kid we had this skateboard vid by "element skateboards" on DVD

they were this skateboard kit slash apparel company that was all about progressivism and shit and they did these much lauded comp tapes of dudes riding around on their boards and doing the dopest of macho tricks on the shit

flipping it turnways

putting the rock in the house like a big man

we had some of their merch actually

===

so anyways the one we had back then was This Is My Element

released 2007

mostly clips from cali i think and i mean the camerawork is fucking insane on some of those shots

this is gonna sound lame as fuck but i prob spent so many cumulative hours just peelin through the footage and ogling the shit outta it

that framing was tight

===

so you may be asking yourself or me

dave you genuine dicksucker i asked about your fav album not your favorite sordid ass display of smooth dudes hardcore riding and grinding them boards in public dude you have a problem

ok well that wasnt a question first of all so jot that down

but anyways to THAT i say

listen to the music

the whole thing has an original soundtrack of ambient beats

got some abstract hip hop jams, got some more indie stuff, lots of acoustic sampling

HELLA underground

and basically every track minus one is done by sampler beast david p. madson AKA "odd nosdam"

dude is my hero seriously

he is the master of the beat machine i shit you not hes always been kinda my idol on this stuff

aside from bro obviously

===

obviously.

===

anyways he had an E-mu SP-1200 which is a really oldschool sampler invented by dave rossum in the late 80s

revolutionary to the hip hop scene

nosdam had this mega distinct sound to his music that i always wanted to replicate on my own beats

still do

i dont know for sure if he used it on T.I.M.E. but he uses some of the same samples from "vol. 9" which was exclusively SP-1200 so im gonna get a lil j’accuzi on that

it couldve been a boss dr sampler SP-202 though idk

he had one of those

===

so aside from beating the shit out of the pause/resume button to flip my whole cranium at the cinematography or whatever i would also kinda play it on loop to listen to the soundtrack and space out at 2am

the lonely broner seemed to free his mind at night

ok shit broner is good but i didnt mean it like that

that was goofy lets just keep movin

it was the only way i had to listen to it back then but i mean the video is 50 mins long so its basically just an odd nosdam album with accompanying ambient skater sounds and random expletives and whatever

random car sequence

yknow what i dont think people respect enough?

the dude who catches all the "mad stunts yo" on camera

i swear to god at least half the time hes ALSO on a board and that shit is bananas to me

bros gotta be on some whole other level of zen to skate good AND catch all them glamor shots of his fellow skater

thats like an express ticket to the ER imo

the ambulance is already on the scene watching you like an eager crow watches a half dead dog

===

ok gonna go ahead and lay it out flat

not great on a board myself

kinda dogshit at it actually

so maybe im not exactly an arbitrator of skateboard heinousness

but i always kinda liked watching THEM do it i mean who doesnt?

whats an even crazier layer to stack on the "dave" cake is

and dirk told me this because unfortunately it kinda happened post-2009

he would do all these collabs with one of my childhood favorite underground rappers david cohn aka serengeti

surrounded by daves left and right dude even before all the time travel horseshit

thats like

serendipitous as fuck i think!

===

if sburb was just a revolving door of artists called dave that i could bump fists with

instead of other mes in various states of aliveness tending toward extremely dead

i wouldve probably given it something higher than 2 stars on my TGN review

===

so yeah you ask me my favorite album its T.I.M.E. by odd nosdam i guess

bump that shit on a walk your mind will go places unknown to man

#dave strider #homestuck #comix #this is my element #the way i drew dave posing here is rly heavily inspired by askinsufferableprick btw #welcome to strider infodump hours

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gojonanami · 5 months ago

Text

❝ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐎 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄) ❞

c/w: spoilers for 261, angst, possible happy ending? i'm so sorry lmao.

Body and soul — many in jujutsu had spent millennia contemplating the connection between these two — were they two separate entities co-existing, or were they always one, until they parted in death? And even if they were to part — does the soul still linger?

You didn’t know — and you didn’t care.

“What do you mean you don’t care what happens to your body?” Satoru wiped the blood from his hands, before brushing past you to wash it in the sink, diluted scarlet swirling down the drain just as your stomach had upon hearing what he said.

You only knew that your heart belonged to one man. And he would take it with him with his death. Even as he left his body behind. But your heart wasn’t your concern, no, his body was.

“Sweetheart—“

“No, don’t,” you already know what he’s going to say — a quick witted joke that you have no faith in him, empty reassurance that he’ll win — anything but an answer to your question, “I don’t know how people call you uncaring, the only person you don’t care for is yourself,”

The Strongest. The Six Eyes User. The Gojo Clan Leader. Anything — anything but calling him who he is — Satoru Gojo.

He’s shaking his head. “I’m not going to lose, so it’s a pointless—“

“Satoru,” and you grit your teeth, wondering if your words were a curse themselves, and that you dare not utter them, but you do anyway, “you don’t know that. Not for sure,” your words are a whisper, one you think wouldn’t be heard and manifested by a higher power — because you know that jujutsu is too cruel not to.

“What is a dead body? I’ll be gone,” his back still faces you, wiping his hands off, and you’re shaking your head, “the body and soul—“

“They are one, in far too many ways—“ your eyes burn with tears as you hear his sigh, “so Geto’s body deserves a burial, but yours doesn’t?”

You stab at a nerve — it’s a low blow, but one you had to deal, if only to get through that damned infinity of his — the wall he had kept up, even with you. Close, but never close enough.

“Don’t—“ he cuts you off, gentle but hard, sword hitting shield, sparks fly as the metal meets, “it’s different—“

“How?”

“I gave my consent, for one,” he says, his hands leaning against sink, head hanging, “and my body isn’t being used for a cheap trick,” and the bitterness still lingers on his tongue, and you know the moment flashes before his eyes, again and again — if he hadn’t hesitated, if he hadn’t let the past hold him, if he didn’t been such a fool— “they need me—“

You need him.

“I know, I know they need you,” you swallow the bile rising in your throat, but you spit acid all the same, “but do they have to take your dead body too?”

And he finally turns, skies softening when they see the drops slipping down your cheeks, and his steps echo in the silence of the bunker, hollow just as this conversation was, “Y’know I have to,”

“I know that, I know Yuta is making the right choice, it’s for the good of everyone,” except you, except us, “but it doesn’t make it any less difficult,”

And his arms wind their way around you, pressing you against him, his fingers winding through your hair, “I’m going to come back to you,” hands sliding down your sides, “I always will,”

“It’s not just this,” your fingers cup his cheek, his face leaning into your touch, “you’re not alone, Toru. I’m here.”

“You’re here, huh?” he murmurs, more to himself than you, “if I die, you have my full permission to kick my ass,”

“And I will be,” you kiss him, fingers sliding to the nape of his neck, brushing against his undercut, “I don’t care about the strongest,” your lips brush soft kisses against your cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead, before finally finding his lips, “I only care about Satoru Gojo, I just need you, only you,”

He presses his forehead to yours, nose brushing his, “You have me,” but you didn’t know for how long, how long you could touch his cheek like this and not feel cold rigid skin underneath your fingertips, how long you could kiss his lips and have him kiss back, and how long it would be until you could hold his hand again, “and you have my heart,” and he gives a small chuckle, “maybe not the part everyone wants—“

“It’s the one I want,” you cut him off with a soft kiss, “I want all of you, every inch, but your heart? That already is mine,” your head pressed against his chest, feeling the muscle contract underneath, as if it would reassure you that it would keep doing that.

But it didn’t.

“I’ll stay,” Shoko furrows her brow, “he would want me to,” Satoru Gojo’s body laid on a slab of cold metal, cold as his skin was now — and cold as your heart was now, without the warmth of his love to dwell in. Ugly stitches marred his stomach, right where Sukuna had sliced through him — you watched it, you couldn’t look away, and you watched the smile on his lips until it fell slack.

Just like the rest of him.

“He would understand why you couldn’t—“

“It really did upset him that you didn’t object,” and Shoko’s mouth opens and closes, her eyes shutting, “but I know that’s only because you had faith he would win,” and you add, “and he knew that too — he was just pouting, what he does best,” and your fingers trace over his lips — Shoko had done a good job cleaning the blood from his face, “did best,” and Shoko frowns again.

“You don’t—“

“I’m his wife,” you say, “for better or worse, it’s my duty to stay with him, it’s the least he deserves,” your fingers skin over his forehead, before pressing a sweet kiss to the rigid skin, knowing that the smooth skin would be overwritten with jagged stitches — the thread pulled from the fabric of your own life that laid before you, leaving you in pieces, “because he may be a monster, but all of us are the real devils — for letting him bear it alone,” and you shake your head, a tear slipping down your cheek, “I won’t make that mistake again,”

You miss who you you used to be without this weight around your neck, desd bodies piled on top of your back, back broken under the grief, and yet you still walked on. Because you know it’s what he would have wanted, as his ghost whispers in your ear.

Body and soul — if it was one, you wondered if he could feel your touch, sense your presence, and hear your words. And you hoped he could — but you know he was listening somewhere either way, so you whispered the only words you meant with your entire heart and soul—

“I love you," you murmur, before turning away — you don't see the way his fingers twitch for you.

Those words were still a curse all the same.

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo angst #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #jjk angst

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