#without something bad immediately happening after
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tw: pain, childbirth.
When I was pregnant the first time, my mother told me something that I never forgot. She said that babies show you who they are while still in your belly.
I didn’t understand what she meant until my daughter arrived at the 37th week of pregnancy. Barely premature. In medical terms, she was ready to be born, but I, the person carrying her, was sure she wasn't ready yet. Willow decided she wanted come out and made my uterus contract and my hips widen to get her out. Even though I begged her to give up the idea.
“Don't be in a hurry, you can stay there as long as you want.” I remember whisper to my own belly, already having painful contractions. After complaining so much about how tired I was of being pregnant, I was afraid that her rush to be born was because of me. But I was wrong, she was just curious to go out, looking forward to her freedom. I tried to warn that the world was much colder and much scarier than she could imagine, but she was determined.
Her birth wasn’t as bad as I thought, in reality. It was quick and it was painful. But the pain never scared me. I closed my eyes and didn't fight with my own body. I let everything happen and just let my mother tell me what to do. I don’t remember if I screamed or cried or moaned... Because every time a contraction came I left my body and only came back when it was over.
When I opened my eyes his blue eyes were there. Looking at me scared, trying to make sure I was alive. He was the only thing that comforted me at that moment, the only thing that kept me standing. It was Peeta's arms that held me through that long winter night. I couldn't sit or lie down without crying in pain. Standing, with my body resting on his, was the least painful position I found to face the contractions.
It was as if we were dancing a waltz, but the music was just my screams. At the end, when the sun started to rise, I swore I could hear the sound of birds. They sounded exactly like my father whistling birdsong. I wanted to tell Peeta what I had heard, but I was always distracted by the overwhelming pain and my moans, my mother's words and Peeta's heavy breathing.
He was silent the entire time. I was grateful I didn’t had to hear words of encouragement that wouldn't help me or stutters of pity. He knew I was capable, he knew I could handle it. Sometimes I searched in his eyes for the trust he had in me, to remind myself that I was able to do it. And I always found what I was looking for.
When I felt her coming out I bent down on my knees and pushed. I could feel the top of her hairy head with my fingers. The pain was absurd and I thought I was going to die from the horrible sensation that filled me. I screamed, so deep and loud that it came out all at once. Her cry made me realized that I had never been so close to life since the day I was born, born from the woman who held Willow for me. My mother was the first person who picked her up.
My legs immediately stopped working. I fell into Peeta's arms and he placed me on our bed. In the same bed we had made Willow.
My mother brought me the little baby in my arms. She was so hot and the air was so cold that all I could do was hold her against me and cover her with a cloth so she wouldn't freeze. While I cried nonstop, so much so that I couldn't even welcome her.
It was Peeta who said it "Hi little girl” for me. As he stroked her hairy, bloody head.
Such a powerful cry for such a small girl, I thought. We were still one, united by a cord and soon it would have to be cut without me being ready. Separating us forever and leaving my baby alone in such a dark world.
#Katniss is a great mother#Peeta is her soulmate#They deserve a happy family#wip#the hunger games#thg#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#everlark#epilogue#willow mellark#toast babies
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Forget About Us
Hello this is my first fic in like almost 6 months inspired by Forget About Us by Perrie Edwards
Thanks to my loves @nicohischier @assmanselke and @matthewtkachuk for yelling at me and letting me yell about this fic :)
Summary: Carson meets Jack, Jack falls for Carson, Carson does what she wants.
Word count: 7.4k
Warnings: Swearing, drinking, aNGST
Flashbacks are in italics. Also, I swear I read through this more than once but there might be errors unintentionally 😬
_________________________________________
Looking up into the stands, every game he plays in this city, he’s looking for her. He had been doing it for the past few years, always expecting to see her.
___________________________
“Can you stop pouting? We’re going to go out after the game,” Morgan begs.
“I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to be here or anywhere else besides my bed.”
Morgan rolls her eyes, sitting down in her seat. “Carson, you never go out.”
“Because I never want to go out,” she repeats. “I don’t have the money to go out.”
“The tickets were free from my job and I told you I would pay for your drinks tonight.”
“I don’t feel good,” Carson whines, knowing that it still wouldn’t be enough.
“You’re fine.”
“I’m on my period.”
“So am I, what’s your point?”
“Your period doesn’t make you double over in pain for three days.”
“This is the fourth day of your period when you have told me you always feel fine. And your period has been regular since you were fifteen when you went on birth control.”
“I don’t like that you know that.”
“Then maybe don’t tell me the same thing like a broken record every month?” Carson continues to pout, even though her friend is right. “Do you really not want to be here? We can leave after the first period if you really aren’t having fun. But, you do keep telling me you’ve been wanting to come to a game since we moved here.”
“No,” she drags out. “I just had a bad day at work.”
“What happened?”
The teams start coming out onto the ice for warm-ups, everyone booing the away team. It made no sense. They weren’t even actual rivals. The other team, from Carson’s understanding, was so inconsequential that they shouldn’t even matter. But who was she to argue?
“Anthony came by work today.”
“Anthony? Like Anthony, your ex, Anthony?”
“No, Anthony Michael Hall from The Breakfast Club.”
“What did he say?”
She and Morgan had this same conversation every week. “He wants to get back together.”
“And you told him, ‘no,’ right?”
“I’m grumpy, not stupid.”
Morgan sighs. Anthony kept showing up at the cafe Carson worked at between classes to ask for her back for the last month. He didn’t seem to care about the fact that they wanted wildly different things in their lives and that they weren’t going to work. Carson wanted to get her JD and leave New Jersey for good. She was tired of the debate over whether or not the central part of the state existed, if it was called Taylor Ham or Pork Roll, and which beach down the shore was the best. She wanted out as soon as possible, and Anthony wanted to stay here and settle down. He wanted someone who wanted to be at home with the kids, which Carson really didn’t want. The only way she could think about staying in New Jersey was if her partner wanted everything else she wanted. Whoever she ended up with had to be everything else to her. Anthony wasn’t it.
Morgan slowly forms a smile on her face, one that immediately makes Carson panic. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”
“Who said I’m going to do something that you’ll hate?”
“Every past action that you’ve done without talking to me about it first says you’re going to do something I’m going to end up hating.”
Morgan rolls her eyes, pulling out her wallet and handing Carson her debit card. “Here, you go get us beer and pizza so that way you don’t have to see what I’m about to do.” Carson sits there, Morgan shoving the card into her hands. “Go.”
Both of them get up from their seats, Carson feeling a sense of panic as she watches her roommate go down to the ice while typing furiously on her phone. Carson tries to get back to their seats as fast as she can, worried about what antics she was about to be dragged into. She wanted to be home early that night so she could start studying for one of her exams that week. She did not have time to do whatever it was that Morgan was planning to do.
“Here,” Morgan hands her something as she sits back down, Carson still trying to figure out how to balance two overflowing drinks and two slices of pizza larger than her own head. “I got this for you.”
“You got me a puck?”
“Yes.”
“Ok?”
“You could say thank you.”
“Thank you for a piece of rubber that could probably break a bone if you get hit with it hard enough.”
“You’ll get the rest of what I got you tonight.”
“I swear to god,” Carson starts. “I’m not god, but I am close to a goddess.”
Carson groans, trying to focus on anything other than the terror that she was sure was about to come to her tonight. One of the players kept looking up at her, over his shoulder and seemingly ignoring his teammates. “What did you do?”
Morgan shrugs, nudging Carson’s shoulder as she waves at the player. “His name is Jack.”
“Just because I’m studying law, that doesn’t mean I’m above breaking at least one of them.”
“Yes, it does.”
The game starts, Carson’s eyes staying on the one player who had been watching her before. He gave her the vibes of someone who would end up naked and drunk in the hallway of her dorm in college, passed out and unsure of where his pants or keys were.
“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Morgan asks once the second period starts.
Carson doesn’t make a noise, just nodding. He was the exact type of mistake she would make on a night out when she needed to forget about something. “Why does he keep staring?”
“Probably for the same reason you’re staring at him even if you do look like you want to kill him.” Carson turns to glare at Morgan. “I’m just saying, you might be hot, but you also look like you could commit a felony right now.”
Carson sighs, waiting for the end of the game. She had no idea what was going on, but Morgan seemed to be into it at least.
Carson lets out a yawn as the fans start to file out of the arena, Morgan dragging her along behind her. “Can we please just go home?”
“No, I have a surprise for you.”
“Last time you had a surprise for me, I ended up needing three of my tires replaced.”
“And they gave you the fourth one for free, anyway,” Morgan grabs Carson’s hand, pulling her in the direction of some bar she wouldn’t remember the name of in the morning.
Carson knew that no matter how much she complained to Morgan, her friend would have something to counter every whine. They had lived together all four years of college before finally somehow scraping together enough money to each get their own places, despite the fact that they were still neighbors in their apartment building. Morgan, unfortunately, could get Carson to do anything she asked her to since she knew exactly how to make it so Carson wouldn’t say no. Most of the time, it involved physically dragging Carson places, like she was doing right now, but it always somehow worked.
“I’m paying for drinks,” Morgan tells her, dropping Carson’s hand as they two walk into the unreasonably crowded and slightly smelly bar.
“Yeah, like that was in question,” Carson tells her.
“You go sit down, I’ll find you.”
Morgan leaves Carson alone. The scene around her made her want to run away, except for the fact that Morgan could track her location and would not be above chasing her down the street and dragging her back to the bar. Everyone seemed like they were five drinks in, Carson feeling anxious about being what seemed to be the only sober person around.
“You ok?” a voice comes behind her, snapping her out of her potential spiral. She turns around, the guy from the game standing in front of her.
“This isn’t real,” she mutters, shaking her head. How the hell did Morgan manage this?
“What?” the guy asks, understandably confused.
“Sorry,” Carson says. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
“I’m dehydrated.”
“Can I get you water, then?”
“No.”
“But, wouldn’t that help with the dehydration thing?”
Carson stares at him, dumbfounded. “I can get water myself,” she says, her tone a little harsher than she intended it to be.
“I’m Jack,” he introduces himself, not getting the message at all.
“That’s nice.”
“Do you have a name?”
“No, that spot on my birth certificate has been blank for the last twenty four years. Everyone calls me whatever nickname they can think of. The current one is ‘Maverick.’”
Jack opens his mouth to say something, Morgan appearing in between them before he can get a word in. “You actually came!”
“How could I pass up coming to meet someone as sweet as your friend here after the game?”
Carson barely knew him, but she already knew he would be a thorne in her side.
“She’s already been mean to you, hasn’t she?” Morgan laughs, finally handing Carson the drink she got for her.
“Hey,” Carson tries to protest, despite both of them ignoring her.
“It’s fine. It’s kinda hot,” he smirks, staring at Carson. She didn’t care that she couldn’t help but stare back, her cheeks bright red at his words.
___________________________
She always sat in the same general area, a few rows from the top of the section right behind their bench. It was easy to find her. How could he not at least try?
___________________________
“Why are you anxious?” Morgan asks, plopping down on Carson’s couch.
“Who said I was anxious?”
“You’re scrunchie.”
“What could that possibly mean?”
“You’re scrunching your brow so much and frowning so hard that you have wifi symbols showing on your face. You only do that when you’re anxious.”
“Please don’t say that to me ever again.” Carson lets out a sigh. She shouldn’t be anxious. She’s done things that were so much more difficult than this. She graduated with a 4.0 GPA in high school and college. She participated in every possible extra curricular that she could, and did so perfectly. She had her life scheduled down to the minute, when she would study, eat, have free time. She didn’t have time to be anxious. “Jack is supposed to be here any minute.”
Morgan lets out a squeal so high that Carson covers her ears. “You’re finally going on a date with him?”
“If you want to call it that.”
“Tell me everything,” Morgan says, plopping herself at Carson’s feet.
“No.”
“Carson,” Morgan whines.
“Morgan,” Carson counters. “I don’t even know where we’re going. From what it sounds like, it’s not even going to be just us, it’s something with the team.”
“He’s taking you to meet the rest of his team?” she yells.
“If you get that loud again, I’m throwing you out the window.”
“We both know your window doesn’t open far enough for me to get out of it, we’ve tried. Anyway,” Morgan continues, ignoring Carson’s annoyance, as usual. “That means something if he already wants you to know his teammates.”
“It means he already had plans with them when he asked me to go out with him and is dragging me somewhere I wasn’t otherwise invited.”
“You could be positive sometimes, you know.”
“There’s no fun in that.”
“Carse,” Morgan says, “He wouldn’t be inviting you if he didn’t like you. He wouldn’t have been texting you every waking moment that he could if he didn’t like you.”
“It’s kind of annoying.”
“That’s because you are a black hole personified and he’s the human equivalent of a dumb puppy.”
Carson scrunches her face while she looks at her friend. “That’s mean.”
“I’m trying to say that you two are different. And that’s ok. He’s more extroverted than you are. You’re still going to have fun because you’re going to be with him.” Carson looks at her, unsure. “If you’re not fine, I have your location and I will come join you guys, or come pick you up.”
“Why am I nervous?”
“Probably because this is the first guy you’re going out with that doesn’t look like a dead baby bird.”
“Sometimes, inside thoughts can stay inside.”
“My point,” Morgan starts, pulling Carson up to lead her out the door, “Is that he’s not your normal type and you don’t know what to do, so you’re panicking. But, again, you’ll be fine.”
Before Carson could say anything else, a knock came from the other side of her door. Morgan opens it, Jack standing there with his hands in his jeans pocket.
“Wow,” Morgan verbalizes what Carson was thinking as she tries not to ogle at Jack. His jeans fit him way more perfectly than she would have liked, the t-shirt he had on showing off his arms in a way that made her feel like she was actually about to start drooling. For fucks sake.
“I think Carson is supposed to say that,” Jack jokes, leaning against the door frame.
“Jesus Christ,” Carson groans, Morgan laughing as she pushes her way past Jack to head back to her place.
“Actually, they call me Jack.”
“If you keep this up all night, I’m not leaving this apartment.”
“Is this your way of asking me to come in?”
“Absolutely not. We’re going now to meet your friends or you’re going by yourself.”
Carson didn’t see Jack physically swoon at Carson as she walked past him, a stupid grin on his face as he watched her walk away from him.
___________________________
Morgan was sitting next to her, the two of them seeing less of each other now that they didn’t live with or next to each other anymore. Carson was laughing at something Morgan was telling her, the smile on her face reaching her eyes.
___________________________
“What are you doing right now?”
Carson groaned, knowing that any time Jack was asking her to do something lately, it was to pull her away from something she actually had to get done. “Studying.”
“When’s the test?”
“Next week.”
“Come out with me.”
“No.”
“I’m picking you up, I’m turning onto your street now.”
Jack hangs up before Carson can protest, her immediately texting Morgan to tell her she was being kidnapped.
‘You aren’t being kidnapped, you aren’t a kid.’
‘Kidnapping is anytime a person’s liberty is restrained by force and taken to another location.’
Before Morgan could text back, Jack was knocking at her door.
“I’m not going.”
“Come on. Half an hour?” he begs her. Carson glares at him. “I’ll buy ice cream.”
“I’m lactose intolerant.”
“Says that three cheese pizza you downed the other night.” Carson continues to glare at him. “Please? I’m leaving tomorrow for a week and a half. It’ll be the last time I can bother you until then.”
Carson rolls her eyes, shutting her textbook with her highlighter keeping her page like a bookmark. “I’m studying in the car.” Jack smiles at her, holding his hand out for her. Carson smirks, grabbing another book from her table and putting it in his hands instead.
Jack runs to follow her, his free hand on the small of her back, a smile on his face as she didn’t fight it. They get in his car, the windows down and the radio blasting as he peels away from where he was parked.
Jack starts talking, Carson not listening in the slightest as she continues to read the book in her lap, just like she promised.
“Wait, shut up,” Carson finally says, reaching over to turn up the music that was already loud. “I love this song.”
Jack laughs, glancing at her as he pulls up to a stop light. “Seriously? 1985 by Bowling for Soup?”
“My childhood best friend and I would listen to this song all the time growing up,” Carson explains,the smile on her face something Jack rarely got to see but loved every time. Jack’s smile mirrored hers as she started to sing along. He couldn’t help but laugh again as he listened to her. “What?”
“You are a horrible singer.”
“Yeah, because you would be better,” she snides, looking back at her book.
“Oh, of course I would be,” he says, starting to sing along with her.
Carson cackles, a sound Jack had never heard from her before. “You are just as bad as I am.”
___________________________
He thought of her whenever that song played, his heart beating faster every time the opening guitar riff played through whatever speaker he was near. He never purposefully listened to that song. The song never played in any of the arenas they played in, except for Rogers Arena, like it was now.
___________________________
“What do you mean, ‘we’re going out tonight?’” Carson groans.
“You just finished finals, Quinn is in town, and we’re heading down the shore for the weekend.”
“So I have to pack for a whole weekend?”
“Unless you plan on wearing the same thing for four days, I suggest you do,” Jack says, Morgan laying on Carson’s bed laughing.
“I wish you were helpful,” Carson says, throwing a shirt at Morgan. “I’m not here to be helpful, I’m here to be comic relief.”
“Then you should try being funny sometimes.”
Jack laughs, his phone buzzing with a call. “I’ll be right back,” he says, getting up and answering it out of Carson’s room.
Once he was out of earshot, Morgan sits up, a giddy look on her face that caused a pit to form in Carson’s stomach. “You’re going away with him for a weekend!” Carson grimaces. “You aren’t excited?”
Carson sighs, getting up to close her door so Jack can’t hear them. “I think he wants more from whatever this is than I do.”
“What do you mean?” Morgan whispers.
“I can’t see a relationship with him.”
“Carse, he’s perfect.”
“He kind of is. Which is why I don’t see it. Anthony was perfect.”
“No, Anthony was the human equivalent of a stale ham sandwich who, if brains were money, wouldn’t have been able to buy a cup of coffee.”
“Go eat something.”
“What?”
“Your metaphors turn food related when you’re hungry.”
“My point is,” Morgan says, getting up. “Anthony is not Jack. Don’t ruin something before it starts because of something that happened with someone else.” “Hey,” Jack says, startling both of them. “Sorry, Luke was asking if we were on his way to pick him up. Are we ready to head out?”
___________________________
He was so busy staring at her that he didn’t realize that Luke had skated up to his side.
“You didn’t know she’d be here?” Jack shakes his head. “Quinn doesn’t know you still love her?”
He shakes his head.
___________________________
Carson hated to admit it, but she was having a good time. She hated to admit that she needed to relax, especially after the intensity that she had when she was taking finals. They were sitting around a fire one of them had set up on the beach, the smell of smoke hitting Carson right in the face, the night air starting to chill around them. The guys were all laughing, their partners sitting in their laps as a few of them fell asleep.
“Where’s Quinn?” Luke leans over Carson to ask Jack.
“You have his location,” Carson says before Jack can answer. The brothers keep anticipating Quinn with every new person that shows up, their usually prompt brother still MIA.
“I don’t know where my phone is.”
“What’s that in your left hand, bud?”
“Right,” Luke draws out as Carson and Jack both laugh at him. “He’s supposed to be here any minute.”
Luke gets up to head back to the house for what he claims is to use the bathroom. “He hasn’t been drunk in a while. He gets dumber as he drinks,” Jack tells her.
Carson checks the can of beer he left behind. “Isn’t this his first drink of the night?”
“Yeah, why?”
“This can is still full.”
“He might just be dumb.”
“Bold of you to call someone else dumb,” an unfamiliar voice comes from behind their circle around the fire.
“I was just about to say that,” Carson says to the guy who must be Quinn, given how much he looks like his brother.
“God, I never realized there’s two of you,” Jack says to Quinn, the color draining from his face.
“I don’t think you’d survive with two of me,” Carson says, Jack mumbling something about going to the house for a minute as he gets up, a smile on his face anyway.
“So, you must be Carson?” Quinn asks her.
“What was your first clue?” she tries to flirt, taking a sip of her drink while maintaining eye contact with him. She knew that Jack was cute, but there was something different about Quinn. She and Jack were opposites. She and Quinn were the same.
___________________________
He still loved the way she looked in that old hoodie that she stole, the team logo faded and cut through, the number that was supposed to be the right side of her chest gone. He remembered when she stole that, the way her eyes lit up the first time he saw her in it as she told him she liked that she could wear it while he was traveling and he would still be with her.
___________________________
“Who’s picking up Carson?” Ellen yells up the stairs.
“I am,” Quinn and Jack both called at the same time, Jack’s mind running wild at the fact that his brother answered with him. Since meeting Quinn a few weeks ago, Carson had been mentioning him a lot more in their conversations. He shouldn’t be bothered by it. They never actually established that they were dating. Sure, they had hooked up, and sure, it was all Jack could think about since, but they were never dating.
He wasn’t Carson’s boyfriend.
“We both are,” Jack amends, running down the stairs when he hears Quinn do the same.��
The brothers get in Quinn’s car, a smile across Quinn’s face while Jack can feel himself start to panic. “So, you’re excited to see Carson?”
“Yeah,” Quinn lets out. “I’ve missed Car.”
“Car?”
“That’s what I call her sometimes, yeah.”
“Doesn’t everyone else call her ‘Carse’ if they don’t call her Carson?”
Quinn laughs. “She said she likes when I call her ‘Car,’ instead.” Quinn keeps talking the rest of the way to the airport, both boys getting a text from her saying that she had just landed.
Neither boy had seen Carson in weeks, but it seemed like she had been talking to Quinn much more than she had been talking to Quinn.
Quinn pulls up to the airport, both boys getting out to go find the girl they wanted to see. Jack felt like he was racing Quinn to get to her first, Quinn having no idea what was going on in Jack’s head.
They get inside, both of them looking for her.
“Thanks for introducing us, by the way,” Quinn says, breaking the silence between them.
“What?”
“Me and Carson. When you told me I’d love her, I didn’t realize how right you’d be.”
Jack swallows, the pit in his stomach making him feel like he wanted to throw up. Quinn couldn’t love Carson the way Jack did.
The way Jack did?
Jack spots her first, shaking his head of the thought of loving her when he sees the Canucks sweatshirt with 43 on it hanging on her body. Jack looks at Quinn, Quinn’s favorite sweatshirt on the girl Jack wanted to be with.
Carson spots them, a smile on her face as she runs towards them, her suitcase clumsily trailing behind her. She lets go of her suitcase, it rolling towards Jack as she runs into Quinn’s arms, acting as if Jack wasn’t there to begin with.
___________________________
Morgan says one last thing to Carson, heading back towards the concessions, probably to get them drinks. Knowing Carson, she was out with Morgan on the condition that she didn’t have to pay for drinks. Jack couldn’t help but laugh to himself, Luke giving him a strange look while he stood there, lost in thought.
___________________________
Why would Carson want to be out right now?
She wouldn’t want to.
So why was she out right now at a bar that was way too loud, smelled incredibly bad, and was so crowded she could barely move a muscle without hitting another person?
Morgan.
Well, and Jack.
But, mostly Morgan.
“I hate you for this,” she yelled over whatever music was playing.
“No, you don’t,” Morgan and Jack say at the same time, both of them laughing despite Carson sending both of them a death stare.
“You haven’t been out of your apartment in, like, two months,” Jack says as Morgan walks away to get another drink
“We went to get coffee together four times this week,” Carson rebuttes, her phone in her hand lighting up with a text from Quinn.
She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his name, not paying attention to the clear awkwardness that Jack felt when he saw his own brother’s name on her phone. She loved texting him, talking with him every free minute the two of them had. She was falling for him, and she was falling for him fast.
Quinn loved that she was a lawyer, that she was passionate about helping people, he respected all of her decisions when it came to her uncertainty with her future. He made her laugh, he constantly made sure that she was ok and genuinely showed he cared about her.
He was everything he wanted in a guy, except that he was on the other side of the continent.
“What’s Vancouver like?” she asks Jack, again having to yell over the noise.
Jack shrugs, “It seems a lot like New Jersey, honestly. I’m never there long enough to find out.”
Could she see herself in Vancouver? She had looked into it, she just had to take another exam and be approved by their judicial system and she would be ok to practice law.
Quinn had officially asked her to be his girlfriend when she went to visit the boys a few weeks ago. She wasn’t sure if Jack knew yet.
“I’m going to get another drink, do you want anything?” she asks, elbowing her way back to the bar when he says he’s fine.
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” she hears from behind her once she orders her drink. She turns around, trying not to audibly groan.
“Anthony.”
“How are you Carse?”
“Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Do I need to give more?”
“Well, it’s a genuine question.”
“‘Fine’ is a genuine answer. What do you want, Anthony?”
“When can we get back together?”
Carson scoffs, the bartender handing her her drink that she was now tempted to throw in his face. “We’re not.”
“Come on, Carse,” he says, taking a step toward her, his hand trailing down her arm. “We had so much fun together. Why do we want to throw all that away?”
“I have a boyfriend, Anthony.”
“I don’t see him.”
Before Carson could answer, she feels Jack come up behind her, thankful that it was him and not some other stranger. “Babe, I told you, I was paying for drinks tonight.”
Carson looks up at him, turning toward him so Anthony couldn’t see her mouth a quick ‘thank you,’ to him. “I put it on your tab, don’t worry,” she turns back to Anthony, the smile on her face because of the stupid look on his face. “Anthony, meet my boyfriend, Jack.”
Anthony mumbles something, walking away before either of them could say anything else.
“I owe you,” Carson says once Anthony is far enough away neither of them could see him.
“Well, drinks are on me tonight,” he says, earning a laugh from her. “Nice job, lying about the boyfriend thing. Think we’ll have to keep it up until we leave?”
Carson laughs again. “I wasn’t lying about having a boyfriend.”
“What?” Jack asks, Carson not noticing the panic on his face.
“Quinn asked me to be his girlfriend.”
Before Jack can respond, Morgan runs over, squealing something about how their song was playing and that they just had to go dance. Carson quickly hands her drink to Jack, running off with her friend.
Jack downs the drink, ordering another.
His brother got the girl.
___________________________
He sees Carson waving to someone down on the ice, his heart racing in the worst way because he knew it wasn’t to him. Jack followed her gaze to Quinn, who was waving back at her, a smile on his face while he was on the ice when he was notorious for looking like he was having an existential crisis all the time. He should hate the guy who got to love the girl he wanted to be with. But how could he hate his brother?
___________________________
“You’re what?”
“I’m moving to Vancouver.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m coming, too.”
“No you aren’t.”
“I can’t live without you.”
“Morgan,” Carson whines, “You’re going to be fine.”
Morgan groans, rolling her eyes. “I’m being dramatic, let me mourn.” The girls laugh, Carson getting up to grab a drink. “So, you and Quinn are actually serious?”
“Yeah, I mean, we have to be if I’m willing to move across the continent and to another country.”
“Are you going to be able to practice law?”
Before Carson can answer, a knock at her doors follows with someone walking in.
“Are you a murderer?” Morgan yells to the stranger from Carson’s kitchen, prompting Carson to roll her eyes.
“Definitely,” Jack says, appearing in the doorway. “I got us dinner,” he says, holding up a bag. “What are we talking about?”
“If Carson can practice law or not.”
Jack laughs, setting down the food. “How did you manage to get disbarred already? You passed like three months ago.”
“I shot a man in Reno,” Carson deadpans. “I didn’t get disbarred. I’m just,” she hesitates, knowing that telling the two people who were her best friends was going to be the hardest. “I’m moving.”
Jack’s attention snaps to Carson, a look of panic on his face. “Where?”
“She’s moving in with Quinn.”
“You’re moving to Vancouver?”
“Yeah. Quinn asked me last week to move out there with him, and I told him yes today.”
Jack didn’t hear anything else while the three of them sat at Carson’s table and ate the food Jack brought. She would be able to practice law in Canada with a few more steps to get there, she would be living with Quinn.
She would be away from Jack.
She would never be with Jack.
___________________________
He could see the engagement ring on her finger from here, the sapphire in the middle catching the light in just the right way. His mother had their grandmother’s engagement ring, something much more simple, that had been intended for whichever boy wanted to give it to their future partner. Jack didn’t want to give it to anyone. He knew that their grandmother’s ring was picked for their grandmother. He wanted to give his person a ring meant for them. He wanted to give a ring he knew would suit her and would make her think of him whenever she looked at it. That’s why he and Quinn had helped the jeweler design it in the first place. It had to be made for her.
___________________________
Quinn had texted in the family group chat that the ring was ready and that he was picking it up from the jeweler that day after practice.
Everyone in the family congratulated him, his mom gushing about how excited she was to have a daughter, and how happy she was that it was Carson. His dad talked about how he was glad Quinn found someone who made him happy. Luke gave a thumbs up and texted in the group chat without their parents something stupid that Jack still hadn’t read yet.
Jack said nothing.
And he wasn’t sure anyone noticed.
Quinn and Carson were going to be engaged soon.
Jack didn’t know who to talk to, his finger hovering over Carson’s contact. He shouldn’t call her. He could call Morgan. But he knew Morgan was busy doing something with her job. He didn’t want to bother her.
He pressed it, turning on the speaker and pushing his phone away from him before he could hang up.
“Hello?” her name comes out of his speaker. He opens his mouth to say something, realizing he had no idea where to begin. “Jack, are you ok?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry, dropped my phone,” he lied, lunging to grab it. “We haven’t talked in a while.”
Carson laughs, Jack’s insides jumping at the sound he hadn’t heard in a while. “Yeah, it has been a while.”
“How are things?” he asks, silently smacking his forehead at how stupid he sounded. He used to be able to talk to her with ease, having conversations that would go on for hours before either of them even found any silence between them.
Now he could barely talk to her, the sound of her voice something he wanted to hear so badly, something he missed more than he could actually put into words, and he didn’t know what to say so that he could listen to her.
“Things are actually really great,” she says. He could hear the smile on her face coming through the phone. “Quinn and I just work together, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he repeats to himself, trying to hide the pain he felt hearing that. “Have you and Quinn talked about…” he starts, his voice trailing off, the words catching in his throat knowing that Quinn could technically ask her at any moment.
“About what?”
“About you guys getting married?”
Carson stays quiet for a second, a smile on her face forming that broke Jack’s heart with every millimeter it grew. “Yeah, we have.”
“And?”
Carson’s cheeks turned red. “He hasn’t told me outright, but I think he’s proposing soon.”
Jack’s heart fully shattered, a fake smile on his face. “That’s great.”
“He hasn’t talked to you about it at all?”
“We, uh,” he starts, running his hand through his hair as he laid down on his bed. “We haven’t been able to get each other on the phone lately.” The two of them sat in silence, one of the first times neither of them knew what to say to each other. Conversation used to be so easy between them. “Don’t do it.”
“What?” Carson asks, Jack unsure if she didn’t hear him or thought she didn’t.
“Don’t get engaged to him.”
“Jack-”
“Carson, I still love you,” he blurts out, leaving Carson stunned. “Carson, please say something.” He wasn’t planning on telling her during this conversation. He wasn’t planning on telling her at all.
“Still?”
“I think I started falling for you the first minute I saw you.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jack swallows, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “By the time I realized it, you were already falling in love with Quinn.”
“Jack.”
“How could I tell you I love you when I was watching you fall in love with my older brother?”
“Jack.”
“How am I supposed to sit here knowing that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone who is perfect for you knowing that I was so close to being that person?” he says outloud.
“What do you want me to say?” she whispers.
“Tell me you won’t do it.”
Carson squeezes her eyes shut, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I can’t.”
“Carson.”
“Jack, I love Quinn. And he loves me. It has to go both ways. I can’t tell him ‘no’ because you feel something for me that I never felt for you.” Jack says nothing, mostly because he doesn’t know what to say. “I have to go. Quinn will be home any minute.”
Carson hangs up, without saying another word, the front door opening as she whipped away her tears.
“Hey,” Quinn says, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “You ready to head out?”
“Uh, just give me a minute. I was talking to Jack and got distracted.”
“Yeah? How is he? I haven’t heard from him in a while.”
“He mentioned that,” Carson nods, getting up from her chair. “I’m gonna go grab my shoes.”
Quinn watches her walk away, checking his pockets to make sure he had everything he needed for the night.
Phone, check.
Keys, check.
Wallet, check.
Engagement ring.
Check.
___________________________
Quinn skates over to his brothers, who were still standing next to each other. The crowd starts yelling, as they normally do when the three brothers are on the same ice at the same time. Luke and Jack greet Quinn, Jack trying to pretend like he wasn’t distracted.
“Hey, wait,” Quinn says when the two are about to skate away. Luke hangs back slightly, pretending not to listen. “Carson wants to get together after the game, all four of us.”
Jack looks at Luke. “Uh, we have a flight out tonight.”
“Luke said you guys are leaving until the morning.”
“It got changed,” Jack lies, making a mental note to turn off his location and hope he can convince Luke to do the same. “The weather’s supposed to be too bad to fly out in the morning.”
“Come on. It’s the last time we’ll be able to get together, just the four of us, before the wedding.”
___________________________
“Ready to go?” Luke asks, suitcase in hand as their boarding group gets called.
“No,” Jack mumbles.
Luke rolls his eyes, yanking Jack by the arm to pull him towards the plane. “What’s your problem with Carson?” Jack fastens his seatbelt, pretending not to hear his younger brother. “Dude.”
“I don’t have a problem with Carson.”
“Then why do you shut down and act like a prick any time we go see them, or anytime her name is mentioned?” Jack doesn’t say anything. “No, we have 6 hours on this plane, so either you are going to use that time to tell me why you have a problem with our future sister-in-law or I’m going to tell Quinn that I’m worried you’re going to Richard Ramirez her in her sleep.”
Jack looks at his brother with a look of horror. “What the fuck? I’m not the Night Stalker.”
“Talk,” Luke pokes his brother’s side.
“I liked Carson before she met Quinn.”
“You’re acting like this because you had a crush on her?”
“I’m acting like this because I fell in love with her and she never even thought of me that way.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
“Every interaction you’ve ever had with her now makes sense.”
“What?”
“Every time you talk to her, you have that look on your face like she was telling you she killed your first born.” Jack looks at him horrified, again. “Yeah, like that.”
“Stop watching CSI.”
“There’s so many seasons.”
Luke keeps talking about something while he doesn’t realize Jack is barely paying attention, interjecting with a generic confirmatory noise every once in a while until Jack finally pretends to go to sleep.
His brother eventually falls asleep instead, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts without his brother’s voice in his ear. He hadn’t seen or talked to Carson since the night she called him before Quinn had proposed. She went from a stranger, to someone he could see in his life forever, back to a stranger.
He couldn’t even talk to a girl anymore without thinking of Carson, how she compared to her, how her humor and deadpan delivery wasn’t the same as Carson’s, how she didn’t look like Carson or walk like Carson. He was in love with his brother’s fiance, on his way to their engagement party.
___________________________
Jack barely processed what happened during the game. He made the plays he had to, passed the puck when he needed to, but his mind was empty.
After the game, Luke comes up to him once they're both dressed. “Ready for this?”
“No.”
“Let’s do it, then.”
They wait for Quinn outside, the adrenaline coursing through him more than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t sure he could face her, even after all this time.
“Hi,” he hears behind him, the voice he once loved now sending panic through him.
“Hi.”
___________________________
“Alright, you’ve got to get it together,” Luke says as they get out of the car that brought them to the venue. Their parents were already inside, Carson and Quinn definitely inside.
“I’ll be fine,” he lies, a gift in shaking hand as he opens the door with the other to let Luke go first. He took a deep breath, bracing himself to go in and face Carson for the first time since their phone call the night they ended up getting engaged. “I’ll be fine.”
The party was set up in a way that made exact sense for Carson, it was classy and elegant, while still having shades of Quinn’s chaos thrown in here and there. He didn’t know exactly why it made sense for them, but it did.
Because they made sense.
“Hi,” he hears behind him, causing him to jump. Carson stands behind him, a short white dress fitting her perfectly in a way that made his heart race. He knew there was a reason to wear a black shirt, and it was to hide the sweat that he felt coming on just being around her. “How are you?”
“Good,” he says, holding out the gift. “This is from us.”
“Us?”
“Um,” he shakes his head, letting out a nervous laugh. “Me and Luke. You didn’t expect him to pick something out on his own, did you?’
“No, not at all.”
They stand in silence, neither of them knowing what to do. “You look good,” he says, probably one of the first opinions he shared that actually had some semblance of truth to it.
“Thanks, you do, too. How are things?”
“Things are good,” he says, trying not to cringe at how awkward this whole thing felt. He shouldn't have come, but how was he going to say no to the girl he loved and his own brother? “I’m seeing someone, actually,” he hears himself say, surprised by the lie he didn’t know was coming.
“Really?” her eyes light up. “Jack, that’s great. Quinn didn’t tell me that.”
“It’s still new. I haven’t really said anything about it to Quinn yet. I don’t want to jinx it, you know?”
“I get it,” she nods, a smile still lighting up her face. “I’m so happy for you.”
She pulls him in for a hug, Jack keeping one of his hands in his pants pocket. He knew himself too well; if he hugged her too tight, he wouldn’t want to let go.
He hated how corny and stupid he felt. She is his older brother's fiance. He had to forget about her in that way.
“Hey,” Quinn joins them, pulling Jack in for a hug. “Sorry to interrupt, but Car, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Go, go, I need to find my way to a drink anyway,” Jack waves them off.
Carson takes Quinn’s hand, turning to be led off somewhere by Quinn. She turns over her shoulder, smiling at Jack, as he watched the two of them walk off. She turns away, Jack staring up at the ceiling, not wanting to watch her walk away.
___________________________
The four of them get to a restaurant Quinn had taken his brothers to before, despite the fact that Jack couldn’t remember the name for the life of him.
Jack sets his phone on the table, the rest of them doing the same.
As they order, Jack’s phone lights up with a text from Morgan: ‘When do you come home? I miss you.’
#Jack Hughes#Quinn Hughes#Luke Hughes#New Jersey Devils#Devils#Vancouver Canucks#Canucks#Jack Hughes fic#Jack Hughes x OC#Quinn Hughes fic#Quinn Hughes x OC
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Time to pay homage to the Spring Queen, Tori.
[This is a long one, folks. I have lots of feelings. Sorry, not sorry! TLDR can just look at the gifs for the gist of the story.]
Having read Solitaire, This Winter, and Nick and Charlie in addition to Heartstopper, my thoughts on Tori and how she's portrayed in the show are a bit difficult to organize and express. Since we don't get her backstory in the show (yet), we see her exclusively engaging with Charlie's story; this leaves out a lot of her depth and complexity, or at least leaves it to the viewer to piece together. BUT . . .
The specific ways she goes about protecting Charlie say so much about her.
It's established from their first on-screen interaction that Charlie feels safe with Tori, both to be himself and to confide in her that he's ended his pseudo relationship with Ben, a relationship no one else knows about at this point. Tori automatically assumes the fault was with Ben, which is not only peak awesome older sister behavior, but a cue to Charlie that she knows him well enough to trust that he was not only not the offending party, but that the breakup was a very positive move for him. She's affirming and bolstering Charlie without any platitudes or unsolicited advice, a sign of her care and respect for him, as well as her understanding of him and his needs.
In Solitaire, Tori explains that she rides the bus with Charlie when he's dealing with particularly bad mental health struggles, which puts the scene toward the end of S1E7 in a slightly different perspective. She knows that something is deeply wrong, but also that Charlie isn't ready to talk about it. She keeps an earbud out just in case, but doesn't pressure him in any way, another sign of respect and silent support.
And of course the moment when Charlie is desperately vulnerable, scared, admitting his darkest thoughts to her, when she realizes for the first time (in the show timeline) just how deep the pain goes, she takes it seriously. She knows what it could mean. Though we as viewers haven't seen it yet, Tori knows her own version of this particular darkness and recognizes it in Charlie. She grounds him with firm, safe, physical touch and a truth that only she can give--which makes it the truest kind of truth, a bedrock truth for Charlie to stand on--that he is valuable to her and vital to her life.
After Charlie tells his parents about his relationship with Nick (with fairly negative results, but that's a whole other post), Tori's concern for Charlie is immediate. Not only does she remember how terrible the bullying Charlie experienced was, but she also knows how fragile his newfound happiness really is. Charlie misinterprets her question--whether intentionally or not I think might be up for debate--and assumes that her concern is mainly for Nick, asserting that he can protect Nick. Tori knows that Charlie will need that protection as well, maybe more, but also respects his choice to view the situation in this way. [Side note: respect is like Tori's secret love language; she doesn't give it very willingly.]
"Look after him or you die" seems funny, but Tori is dead serious. Her later accusation that Nick doesn't keep his promises feels harsh at first, and he doesn't really deserve it, but we have to see it for what it is. Tori is trusting Nick with a responsibility that she usually puts on herself, and she doesn't take it lightly; very few people can care for Charlie the way Tori does, and to her, failure to do so is indefensible. Nick's failing her test in this moment, though she's a complete enough person to recognize that it's a momentary lapse and trusts Nick with Charlie later in the story.
And of course there's the infamous Nelson dinner party, where Tori does in reality what we ALL want to do in spirit and knocks David down several pegs. She sees in him exactly the kind of person who bullied Charlie and made his life miserable, and she's not about to let it happen right in front of her. No real commentary here, just a deep appreciation for Tori's sisterly rage and complete disgust with David.
And then there's this:
Oh, season 3 Tori is going to be something to behold. I absolutely cannot wait. All hail the queen.
#victoria spring is a whole universe#objective: defend charlie#method: scorched earth take no prisoners#heartstopper#heartstopper netflix#heartstopper series#tori spring#victoria spring#jenny walser#alice oseman#osemanverse#charlie spring#nick nelson#narlie#nick x charlie#nick and charlie#joe locke#kit connor#solitaire alice oseman
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Shanks stayed behind for Buggy when he was sick, but if the roles were reversed, would Buggy do the same for Shanks and miss out on Laughtale? I'm 50/50 but my opinion means nothing because I'm not a One Piece fan (I just love Shanks and Buggy). I'd love to hear your thoughts. You're much more qualified to answer 😂
ooh.
my first thought is: no, he doesn’t stay behind, but he regrets it almost immediately.
justifications below the cut.
see, i’m mostly thinking about this in terms of the character traits that mirror best. shanks is optimistic and passive, his decision to stay put and wait for another opportunity makes perfect sense to me. it makes no sense to buggy, who is impulsively active and a pessimist, assuming the worst and doing things without thinking his actions through, usually with terrible consequences.
but how can going to laugh tale come with consequences?
well. what if buggy feels the same way as shanks—i don’t want to go there without him—but doesn’t realize it until it’s too late?
standing on the last island, watching the rest of the crew walk into the cave that’s supposed to hold this incredible treasure… buggy wants to see it! he wants to take it! but there’s a pit in his stomach that grows bigger and bigger the longer he stands there, alone.
this is wrong.
there’s supposed to be someone else here.
he’s made a terrible mistake.
i don’t think anyone notices that buggy didn’t come in with them until they’re packing it in, done with their laughter (and maybe carving a message for the future at the bottom of that last poneglyph). but rayleigh spots buggy at the entrance to the cave, hunched over in a shuddering, weeping ball, and he realizes what’s happened.
“you didn’t want to see it without shanks after all, huh?”
buggy startles, tries to pretend that he saw it, that he’s fine. he’s just—allergic to something in the air here, yeah! that’s why his eyes are watery!
rayleigh isn’t fooled, but he lets the excuse lie. he gives buggy a reassuring pat on the shoulder and leads him back to the ship. “i’m sure he’ll understand.”
and shanks probably would understand… if buggy ever told him.
because the second key part to this au is that i cannot see buggy ever admitting to this flagrant weakness. he was at the site of the greatest discovery in history! and he turned his back on it because he felt bad that shanks wasn’t there???
he can’t say that!
especially not when they return to that island where shanks has been waiting to find him recovered nicely, pretending that he wasn’t absolutely miserable on his own eager to tell buggy all about the fun little adventures he got up to while he was waiting for them to come back!
he can’t tell shanks the truth now, not when shanks clearly had no problem having a good time without him.
so buggy lies through his teeth, tells shanks that joyboy’s treasure was so cool and it’s too bad shanks was sick and missed it—but hey, they can always go there together someday! buggy already knows the way, so it’ll be easy! plus then buggy will be the only person who’s ever seen it twice, and won’t that be something!
shanks’ eyes are still a little red after whatever captain roger said to make him cry. he manages a small smile. sure, buggy. whatever you say.
and maybe buggy shouldn’t be surprised, the day roger is executed, when shanks tells buggy he doesn’t want to go to laugh tale. after all, shanks was never the kind of pirate who wanted treasure, was he? and what could it matter to buggy? he’s seen it already.
words dry up in buggy’s mouth.
later, the shame will curdle to rage—how dare shanks refuse to go! when buggy turned away from glory and riches for his sake?!—but in the moment all buggy can do is run away.
#asked and answered#one piece#shuggy#shanks#buggy#*shuggy miscommunication#*narrative foils#*buggy’s bad choices#i hope you were looking for pain here anon because that’s what you’re getting! 🙃
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Reckoner: Part One
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.3k
Summary: Your world is turned upside down when you get in trouble for something you didn't even do. The entire team is in uproar over this but Hotch says he will take care of it. Can he? Or are you doomed to live out the rest of your days in misery?
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.
x
"Justice without force is powerless; force without justice is tyrannical." - Blaise Pascal
"How is your knee feeling?" you ask Spencer when you walk out of the elevator.
"Still hurts, but the brace you have around it is helping. I'm not moving it too much."
"I might not be a doctor in medicine but I know a thing or two."
You two walk into the bullpen where the rest of the team is. Derek, Emily, and Penelope are huddled around JJ who is showing them pictures on her phone.
"What are you guys looking at?" you ask and set your things on your desk.
"Pictures of Henry."
"My Godson? Let me see!" You and Spencer head over to her and admire the pictures of her son. "Look at his chubby cheeks. He's so cute. You guys are still bringing him over this weekend, right?"
"Yes. Will and I are very excited to go out of town."
"Well, don't worry. Spencer might be crippled but we can take care of him," you joke.
"Hey!"
You look up and see Hotch and Rossi in Hotch's office with an agent sent from the Witness Protection Program. Everyone knows it's Jack's birthday so it's especially hard on Hotch right now. The agent leaves promptly, leaving both older men to talk alone.
"How he is doing?" you ask and nod to your boss.
"How do you think?" Derek sighs. "That agent came by earlier to show him a video of Jack. It sucks but that's about as much as Hotch is gonna get for it."
"We're gonna catch Foyet before something bad happens," you promise.
"We should get to the briefing room," JJ announces and puts her phone away.
You're about to follow everyone when you see several Virginia police officers walk into the bullpen.
"Excuse me, where can I find SSA Y/N?"
"Right here. What can I do for you?" you ask and step forward.
"You're under arrest for the murders of Juan Lopez, John Dimateo, Chase Williams, Eric Price, Jeffrey--"
As the officer is speaking, he turns you around and handcuffs your wrists behind your back. Your gun and badge are still on your person which he also removes. He says two more names which makes a total of seven people he thinks you're responsible for. The entire bullpen is in chaos as Spencer and JJ protest against your involvement, Penelope is just confused and asking why, and Derek immediately gets Hotch and Rossi involved.
"Hotch! Rossi!" Derek yells.
Hotch looks through the window and sees you in handcuffs. He and Rossi are out of their seats and out of the office in record time.
"Excuse me, what is going on?"
"Who are you?" the officer who handcuffed you asks.
"I'm her superior. What is going on here?"
"She's being arrested for the murders of seven men."
"Hotch! I didn't do it!" you say but they're already pulling you away.
"Wait, where are you taking her?"
"Virginia Police Department for questioning."
"Hotch! Spencer!" you say as they practically drag you away.
For five seconds, no one can say anything. No one can believe what they just witnessed. You? Murder? You dedicate your life to helping others, not to end their lives. You've had so many bad things happen to you and by doing good, you think you're making up for the bad. Why would you go out and murder seven people? When would you have the time to? If you're not at work, you're at home with Spencer.
After those shocking five seconds, all hell breaks loose. Everyone starts talking over each other. What is going on? Who are these victims? There has to be some kind of mistake. Y/N would never murder anyone. They've got the wrong woman. Even people who are not on the team start whispering to each other.
"Everyone calm down," Hotch says loudly. He turns to Rossi who is trying to keep a confident face on. "Take the team with you to Long Island." He addresses the team. "Listen, I'm going to go down there and figure out what's going on. In the meantime, there is still a case going on that needs our attention. JJ and Rossi will brief you on the case. When I'm done, I'll fly up there on my own."
"Let me go with you," Spencer says.
"Spencer, I know how hard it is for you right now, but I need you with the team. I'm going to take care of it."
Everyone hates that they can't be there for you right now but they understand where Hotch is coming from. When Hotch was released from the hospital, they all wanted to take care of him but stayed with the team and worked on other cases. However, Hotch was bedridden. You're in fucking jail.
After Hotch leaves and the rest of the team is getting ready to fly to New York, Spencer is still stuck in his spot. He can't seem to move from it because all he is thinking about is you. He wants to cry. He wants to break down at the thought of you being all alone in that interrogation room. Derek does a double take and walks over to Spencer.
"She's going to be okay, man. They have the wrong person. We both know this."
Spencer has to believe this otherwise he doesn't know what he is going to do. Everyone piles into the briefing room but it's like they are zombies. No one knows how to act because your chair is empty. Spencer won't be able to concentrate on a word JJ says much less anyone else, but she begins the briefing.
"Last night, Ben Vanderwaal was killed in Commack, Long Island. He was shot at close range once in the heart, once in the head with a .22 caliber. They found hair and blood trances from Ben's wife, Heather."
"Not Heather?" Rossi asks.
"No, she's still missing and presumed dead. The caliber and placement of the bullets match that of two previous victims. The first is Rita Haslat. Eight months ago, she went missing from her home in New Jersey. Four weeks later, she was found in a trash bin."
JJ puts pictures of what Rita looked like before and after being found.
"She went from that to this in under three weeks? She's totally emaciated," Emily says.
"Ligature marks on her wrists and ankles indicate she was constrained." Derek looks over at Spencer to see him staring at the desk. "One in the heart, one in the head like Ben."
"It sounds more like an execution," Rossi says. "What about the third victim?"
"His name is Bill Levington. His appearance was certainly altered."
JJ allows the others to read about what happened to Bill. There's no way she's going to put those pictures on the screen. Spencer grabs the file and flips through it but he's not really reading it. He's only doing this so he doesn't get in trouble for not paying attention.
"His genitals are missing. Though the method of mutilation is different in each crime, there is clearly a signature. The question is, what?"
"In Ben's case, his hands were taken. Bill's genitals were taken. Rita was completely different. She was starved, tortured, and executed. There's no sign of postmortem mutilation," JJ says.
"Why would he take Heather and not simply kill her?"
"Maybe he hasn't and she's still alive," Derek says.
"The only thing concrete is the MO which depicts an efficient no-nonsense murder. We need to figure out what each act of mutilation means to the unsub or to the victim. Wheels up in twenty," Rossi announces.
He gets up, takes out a file from his inner jacket pocket, and places it in front of Spencer. The noise of the paper slapping the desk is enough to break Spencer out of his trance. He looks at the file and then up at Rossi.
"What's this?"
"You told us you were cleared to fly. You lied."
"Naughty boy," Emily chuckles.
"No, I didn't. I am a doctor, so technically, it wasn't a lie," Spencer stutters.
"What was it, then?" Penelope asks.
"Second opinion."
"You're my bitch now," she smiles and walks out of the briefing room. Everyone else walks out leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts. He allows his tears to fall now that he's alone. Penelope pauses when she hears him sniffle so she backtracks into the room. "Spence..."
"I'm fine," he sniffles and wipes his eyes.
"No, you're not. We're all not fine. She's going to be okay. Hotch is going to get her out of this."
"Yeah, I know," he whispers.
Hotch arrives at the Virginia Police Department sooner than he thought. He won't let you go down for something you never did. He's known you for around five years. He knows the kind of person you are, especially when you tackled him away from a car bomb and stayed by his side when he was stabbed by Foyet. He's not going to let anything happen to you.
The police department must know he was coming because they are on his ass as soon as he walks through the front door.
"You can't be here. You have no authority. This case isn't Federal," the arresting officer says.
"Like hell, I can't. I am her boss. She has rights."
"Which have been read to her. She hasn't lawyered up."
"There is a big misunderstanding here--"
"There is no misunderstanding. Y/N committed these crimes and didn't try to hide it very well."
"With what evidence?"
"Oh, we got a buttload of evidence and it all points to her. Sorry, but you're not on the case. I can't release that kind of information."
"I need to see her. I have a right to talk to her as her superior and as a lawyer."
The officer knows he's not going to win this argument so he decides to let it become his supervisor's problem.
"Be my guest."
The officer leads Hotch to where you are. They took you to one of the interrogation rooms as soon as you arrived, and you've been sitting here with an incompetent officer asking you questions. You're handcuffed to the desk even though you've shown no signs of being violent. You've complied with all of their rules but you haven't said a word to them. You know how interrogations work. You know how someone can incriminate themselves just by talking. You're going to let them get all their questions out before lawyering up.
"Care to explain to us why we found your DNA on all seven men?" No answer. "All seven men were murdered with different weapons that we traced back to your apartment. Your possession. Care to explain?" No answer. "My question is how did you manage to murder seven very fit and strong men that brutally? You're an FBI agent. You must know how to cover your tracks, no?"
"I want my lawyer."
The officer sighs and closes the file they have on you. He can't ask any more questions until your lawyer arrives. He chooses to leave the file there and exits the interrogation room. You immediately grab the file and look through it to see what they have. All seven men were brutally murdered like he said, but you didn't think it would be this bad. You're a strong woman but not strong enough to do this kind of damage.
Each man was killed with a different murder weapon--all that you recognize. They're items from your and Spencer's apartment. A kitchen knife that JJ gave you as a set for you moving into Spencer's apartment, a worn-down hammer you got from your parent's house to put up more shelves, one of your heels that Spencer got you as a present just because he loves you, the fire extinguisher you keep underneath the sink, the iron you keep in the bathroom, one of your phone chargers, and a box of Spencer's matches.
All of these items can come back to you since you're the one who bought them all besides the heels. Who are these men? Who actually killed them? They were all killed in close proximity to your home and work, so whoever killed them must be local to the area. Why frame you for the murders? What does this person or people get for framing you? There are a whole lot of questions that the police aren't asking.
It seems like all they see is murders, some DNA that belongs to you, so you must be the killer without asking the important questions. The door opens and you quickly close the file and return it to the spot in which you found it. You go back to the stoic look on your face but that drops when you see Hotch at the door.
"Hotch!" He closes the door to give you two some privacy even though you know someone is watching you. "I didn't do it. You have to believe me."
"I know. I believe you," he nods and sits across from you, "but someone did and they really want you to suffer for it."
"I've never even met these men in my life. I don't know who they are. How could I have murdered them? I practically live at the BAU."
"They say they have strong evidence against you but they're not saying what it is. I'm not your lawyer."
"How's Spencer?"
"As much as you'd expect him to be. He wanted to come here but the team is on a case on Long Island."
"Hotch, what do I do?" you sigh with tears in your eyes.
"I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of here. It's just a matter of time. You might be spending a few days with PD."
"Yeah. You should go to Long Island and help the team. Like you said, they're not gonna let me leave anytime soon. I'll probably still be here when you get back."
"I can stay here."
"Hotch, go help the team. People are dying. I'll be fine."
"Okay."
Hotch gets up to leave but you stop him before he can.
"Tell Spencer I am okay. My family has a lawyer I am going to use. Tell him I will be home soon."
"Alright."
As soon as Hotch leaves, your confident shell fades away. You're not sure if you're going to be okay. PD has their suspect in custody. They're not going to let you go easily.
x
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds series rewrite#criminal minds season 5
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May I request a flirty Edmund x flustered fem reader? Like the reader is trying to tend to his wounds after a battle or something but Edmund keeps distracting her by trying to show off and making teasing comments? And could it be a non-established relationship?
umm, I know you said requests were open (and you have the right to write what you want anyways) but if you don't want to do this then feel free to ignore this :))
anyways thank you! have a great day<3
ft. edmund pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia
╰₊✧ edmund flirting while you tend to his wounds┊0.7k words
contains: descriptions blood/injury & mentions of battle, ed is a cheesy menace, medical inaccuracies probably
➤ author's note: i made it a bit shorter than planned, but i hope it’s still okay and that you’ll enjoy!!
“oh, god, edmund!” your concerned voice was a bit louder than it was supposed to be upon the sight of one of your beloved kings being brought into the medical tent, prompting you to quickly apologize to everyone in there before rushing to his side. the battle was already over and victory had been named for your kingdom of narnia, so several soldiers injured from the aftermath were being brought to you for recovery (thankfully, there weren’t so many that the youngest queen needed to go running around healing them with her elixir). “i was really hoping not to see any royalty today…”
he seemed a bit paler than usual from blood loss, but he weakly smiled at you rushing to his side, “edmund, huh? whatever happened to you insisting on calling me by my title?”
“is that really what you’re focusing on?” you immediately started removing his armor and cutting away at the fabric of his sleeve that obscured the damage for examination. it looked like an arrowhead got lodged in his arm and the wooden shaft got broken off at some point, needing to be removed in order for you to progress. “stay still and count to ten.”
“i don’t need to count to ten when the ten is right in front of— fuck!!” he almost bit his tongue in the middle of his compliment when you took the opportunity to take out the piece of metal with a pair of tongs, swiftly tossing it on a tray then applying pressure and working your magic as you were trained to.
“stop being so cheeky and let me get you cleaned up!” you huffed, trying to focus on your work instead of his flirtatious advances. it was no secret to anyone with eyes and ears that edmund fancied you and has been trying to woo you for quite some time now, but it seems that the only thing preventing you from being officially courted by him was your own denial of your feelings. even if the royal family made it clear that they would marry for love rather than status, you would still deny with everything in you that he always manages to make you falter without fail.
“a-at least if i die, the last sight i see will be the most beautiful girl in existence by my side,” he joked before hissing at the stinging sensation of you cleaning his wound. it was nowhere near the worst pain he felt or the closest he’s ever been to death, but he thought it would be funny to exaggerate the agony to get you to pay more attention to him as if it wasn’t already all on him.
“don’t say that! it’s not even bad enough to be that much of a bother, just remember to wash the wound with alcohol and change the bandages every day.”
“so i guess that means i’ll be seeing you every day since none of my servants are professionals like you are? i’m a king, you know, so it would only be expected to have the best of the best look after me!”
“… fine, i guess i’ll see you around this time for the next week for so until you’re fully healed…” his stupid smile made you get all hot and you turned around so that he couldn’t see your face for your reaction, but the very action told him everything that he needed to know.
“so do you think you could also help me up then walk be back to the palace to announce our victory and our relationship?”
“you hurt your arm, not your legs, so you don’t need my help to go back! also, we aren’t even a couple yet, there’s nothing to announce!”
“not a couple yet? so you admit that we will be someday?”
“oh, you’re insufferable!”
his cheeks ached a bit from all the smiles and laughter, able to ignore the pain like it was a mere paper cut thanks to the amusement teasing you has brought him. the day you’ll be his and he’ll be yours (although he always was yours) is close, he could feel it— and he’ll gladly milk this minor injury as much as he can if it means bringing that moment closer to him by spending more time with you.
#📜. her works#edmund pevensie#edmund pevensie x reader#the chronicles of narnia fanfiction#the chronicles of narnia x reader#the chronicles of narnia#narnia#narnia x reader#narnia fanfiction
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That first event was just so cute I really wanted to draw it even if it took a while haha. Some sad times in the clan before and after this so its nice to see everyone together having fun.
Honorable mention:
Aphidpelt recovered from whitecough.
#fogclan#fogclan art#clangen#warrior cats#moon 22#poor swampbat#nothing good can happen to him ever#without something bad immediately happening after
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one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else
#i have to sleep a lot. i’m at the point where functioning requires 8 hours of sleep if not more#I should probably be getting 10+ but i’m a student and i work so 8 is the minimum. but then also getting ready for bed is a whole process s#the whole thing can take 10-12 hours depending how much im sleeping. just to make sure i can do anything#that is time in my day i cannot use for anything else. it’s not ‘oh but i can push through it’ because i can’t without spending the next da#lightheaded and nauseous and vaguely dizzy and with such intense brain fog I can’t think with my fatigue so bad i genuinely don’t know how#get myself to work a lot of days. my abled peers don’t have to deal with this at all. they have unlimited study time if they want to#and yeah it is a choice i’m making that’s true i could just not do. except i would lose my job and fail out of college because i would not#be able to get to classes or do my homework or think. but being told ‘but you are making choices about your life’ when i have lost so much#of what i used to be able to do because i am spiralling down and continuing to get worse is so.#literally last year i would wake up at 6:30 and then go to school till 3 and then go to my internship until 10 and get home at 11 and be in#bed anywhere from midnight to two in the morning and then wake up the next day and do it all again. i graduated with a 3.9 gpa and made it#into my top college while dealing with my cancer symptoms and then the two surgeries about it#but now i lose half my day to just making sure i can get out of bed. i can’t go anywhere because my body is physically too exhausted#any extra time goes into doing homework or occasionally time to myself#not decimating my health by doing minimum body care responsibilities isn’t freeing. occasionally i have a good day which is freeing but tha#usually goes into just. other things outside class or work or eating. I don’t go do something for myself or go do something fun on good day#because I still can’t. good days just mean i don’t want to lie down on the pavement when i’m going somewhere#I just. I don’t magically have control over my life because i try to get enough sleep. i lose half my day to doing that and ultimately it’s#just a bodily function that would have to happen anyway#this is a vent post im just having a really hard time right now because it feels like im in exponential decline. it was nowhere near this#bad last semester. my grades are tanking and i have no free time because anything outside of sleep is either work or school#vent tw#yall can rb this just ignore my tags completely#disability#chronically ill#i keep trying to explain to people how pots works because that’s all logical but there’s no way to explain what it’s doing to my body or ho#i feel all the time. the last time i felt this bad was when i had a bad flu or immediately after surgeries because i don’t react well to#anesthesia and always come out of them feeling like shit. and now i just feel like this all the time and it’s only getting worse#I can’t even stay up late anymore because my body feels like it isn’t counting the sleep even if I get 8 hours#I can deal if I have a free day the day after but that just leaves Friday and Saturday nights and I usually still have to do homework
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Oooooh I forgot how much I hate the end of Warcraft (ignoring the MMOs I don’t fuck with those djdjjd)
#hey gang- what happened to kel’thuzad???? where did he go? why was his character assassinated SO HARD?#Also hey hey hey Illidan fighting Arthus?? and not landing a single hit????? and Vashj and Kael not coming to his imidiate aid????#ALSO SYLVANUS NOT KILLING HIM???#look I’m sure some things like that get taken care off in WoW or something#but WOWZERS did that last bit of the game just feel straight up bad#like look Sylvanus can be racist because she’s complex and she isn’t a perfect hero#but I refuse to accept that five minutes after she’s freed from the Lich King’s control and goes on a whole monologue about how she is no#one’s slave- that she would turn around AND LITERALLY CALL OTHER PEOPLE HER SLAVES#LIKE SHE HAD A DEMON RIGHT FUCKING THERE- I forget his name- but have it force her hand! have the demon guy be like hey girl I know my#brothers and I know their armies and if you want even a chance against them you need more numbers#it just felt weird and bad to have her turn around and do that to other people without anyone pushing her to that??? she just did it?#and she didn’t seem the least bit remorseful???? also hey again kel’thuzad. what happened.#my favorite little guy got assassinated so hard. :(#you cannot tell me he would be friends with Arthus. you cannot tell me any sort of relationship that might have been there was not just for#him to use and manipulate. you cannot tell me he wouldn’t pry his way into the frozen wastes to get shit done and make some power plays#like nothing he has some suggests that he would just sit on the side lines and accept that he’s out of the game- he’s a goddamn lich#I’m upset djdjsjjsjsjsjs all of that felt weird and bad and I will forever be upset about the handling (or lack thereof) of kel’thuzad#and also how Vashj and Kael weren’t by Illidan’s side. they should’ve been sjsjsjjsjsjsjss it’s dumb that Arthus just got to kill him and be#done with it like. immediately#anyways I have a few complaints djdjdjjd clearly. mostly because Warcraft is a beloved childhood game and I didn’t remember the ending and#it just felt bad playing through it sjsjsjjs I love the games but o u c h was that upsetting#(also worse because kel’thuzad was my favorite and he just. wasn’t there djdjsjsjjs which I think is dumb- he’s power hungry and he deserves#to act like it. let him cause issues! more than he already has! sjsjsjsjskksksksm hhhhhhhhhhhh
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i love reading media all at once and going yeah that makes sense and then seeing people talk about it extensively and realizing i didnt retain shit
#its so funny to me bc i have a bad havit of like binging things without like. actuall retaining anything or even analyzing it#when i consume something for the first time especially if im binging im very reactive and dont think too hard about things#also cuz most of the time i honestly dont trust shit of anything that im being told#like so many times its like oh turns out this character is lying or it did happen but i dont have the full context#so i never really take things at full face value anymore#fucking jack vesallius comes to mind lmao#so usually it takes me a second read through after im aware of all the plotpoints or at least what has been released so far#and then i can like calmly look at shit with like full knowledge of these characters personalities and i can analyze the themes and symblism#and shit like that#which is terrible for me bc i hate reading things again unless im either really into it or its been so long and i suddenly remember it exist#especially if something is super long like omg 😭#i guess thats why i kinda look thru tv tropes cuz its like doing ur homework right after class? like the mnowledge is in ur head and then u#use it immediately after to retain it better#ill be reading the tv tropes like 'that is absolutely not what thag meant' or 'your opinion is wrong bc so and so'#i mean im ranting in my head but you know#i conpletely forgkt where i was going with this oops <3#michi tag
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AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! - G.S.
Synopsis. When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.
Pairing. Rich boy! Gojo Satoru x Sugar baby! Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, jealous Satoru, créampie, dirty talk, manhandling, marking, Satoru’s dad is not really present, oral (female receiving), overstim, másturbation (male), thigh riding, cúmplay, Satoru is really really down bad and filthy for you, CEO’s son! Gojo, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 8.1k
A/N. Will proofread later, lowkey scared to post this, but I just wanted it out of my mind. And in my mind, Satoru’s dad is FINE asl so-
The first time you meet Gojo Satoru is when you’re all dolled up for his father.
Designer dress just a bit too tight, running on a few too many shots of tequila, wanting to be anywhere but at this stuffy gala. Everything was too bright - too polished.
And it really didn’t help that no matter how many scathing looks or whispers that followed you, you just had to be here - it was in your contract, after all. Because luckily for you, you just so happened to be the infamous little plaything hanging off the arm of the head of Gojo Corporations.
Well, usually. Right now your sugar daddy was too busy entertaining his business partners, leaving you off to the side, praying for something - anything - to save you from this-
“Damn if I’d come to these shitty galas a lot more often if it meant I’d get to see a beauty like you.”
You jolt out of your bored little reverie, eyes immediately snapping up to meet the tall man suddenly in front of you. When did he even get so close?
You can’t help but drink him in from head to toe, from the overpriced, slightly-disheveled suit to the tiny dimple at the end of his mischievous grin. Strangely familiar white locks fell effortlessly to curtain his eyes. Eyes that were a startling blue - the kind of blue that had your cheeks flaring and knowing exactly who this was.
Oh.
At your silence, he tilts his head with the air of someone that owns this entire venue and everything in it because, well, he did. Twinkling gaze searing into your skin as it roams appreciatively all over your body, plowing on, “Though, you look like you’re on the verge of an aneurysm around these old coots.”
You sigh, pinching your nose at the curious glances around you. Not even able to find it in yourself to put on that plastic smile anymore, “Oh y’know, just soaking up my popularity with the masses after being stranded here.”
“Oh? Here with anyone?”
“Yeah.” you blurt out, “Your father.”
You watch in amusement as Satoru’s mouth falls into a delicate oh! eyes flickering over his shades between you and the handsome man on the other end of the venue, oblivious and fully enjoying himself in the company of his secretary. A bit too much without you.
“Y’know…” he starts, shaky and sounding only half the insufferable heir he was before, “I would say that’s a hilarious version of a ‘your mom’ joke but you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”
“Mhm. Though it would make a good punchline, huh?” You huff out a laugh at the way he was suddenly less of a smooth-talking playboy and more of a lost puppy. The gears turning in his head as he processes that oh shit you were the sweet lil’ thing his dad’s been suddenly rushing off to meet straight after work. And the reason why all those old fossils here were clutching their pearls in scandal.
He just didn’t expect you to be this…gorgeous. And for the first time in forever, he’s suddenly so intrigued.
Because ah, you should’ve known better than to think that this little hiccup would deter the infamous Gojo Satoru. No, in fact that million-dollar smirk only makes its way back onto his unfairly pretty face, like he’s about to spill the juiciest gossip of the century.
“So you’re the latest armcandy my ol’ man has picked up, huh? I hafta say, dear old dad has good taste.” he muses, stepping in close enough that his expensive cologne makes your head spin. “Why don’t you and I ah-” You follow Satoru’s gaze to where he was staring at the way his father was now making a beeline through the crowd. Straight for the two of you.
“Gotta run before I get my share of the company revoked.” he flashes you a quick smile, fulling intent on saving his father’s delicate ego. But not before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “But jus’ saying,” voice a pretty little purr, “I wouldn’t ever leave you standing here so alone and gorgeous, princess.”
You can only stand there, reeling from the sheer audacity as he darts into the crowd with a wink, not caring if he stepped on a few too many overpriced coattails than necessary. Wondering whether this was some bizarre dream induced by too much tequila and not enough common sense.
“Hi, sweetheart. Investors held me up, you know how it is. Having fun, huh?” A toned arm wraps around your waist as your sugar daddy finally arrives by your side. And as he went on about his latest business branch, only two thoughts ring through your mind - 1. You were seriously reconsidering this arrangement. And 2. This was going to be interesting.
And oh was it interesting.
Because Satoru always managed to find you, wherever you were. No matter if it was another droning function or a chance meeting at the sprawling Gojo Estate, Satoru always swooped in whenever his father was too busy for you. Which, fortunately for Satoru, happened to be a lot.
Hell, he seemed to find you even when you least wanted him to. Like that time he had to drag you away mid-argument with a particularly rude one of his snobby aunts. That was not a fun family reunion.
All unabashed confidence and pretty smiles where his father was cold, cold calculation. Ready with a smart mouth to bicker with you and bright eyes that seemed to linger on you a bit too long. But you didn’t mind - why would you? Because all things considered, Satoru was a very attractive man. Sure, his father was extremely handsome, too - in a clean-cut, DILF-y way, in fact. But his son was dangerously attractive.
So much so that sometimes when he swept you away from insufferable galas to talk, some strange little part of you wished it was him that you came here with instead. Just for a second.
“So, what do you see in my father anyway? His company?” Satoru asked you one day. Draping himself over his cool office desk, so comically out of place in the stiff corporate room. Legs kicking in the air as he waits for your response.
You tear your eyes away from the way his biceps were straining so deliciously against his snug button-up to deadpan, “I mean, I am his sugar baby after all, Satoru.”
“But think about it,” he whines, batting those long lashes at you. Fully intent on driving you as dangerously close to a stroke as possible before his father finishes up an important business meeting. One that he missed - whoops. “There’s close to nothing redeemable about the man. His idea of a family bonding activity is a PowerPoint presentation on quarterly earnings.”
“Satoru.”
“And either way- I’m getting the company in a few years, would ya be my sugar baby then, princess?”
Ah, there it was.
It’s been a few weeks of knowing Satoru, and those little comments still made your head spin. Second-guessing the nature of this strange little…friendship? You didn’t even know anymore. Because yeah there might’ve been a few, stupid little lingering touches - like a trace on your hips, or your hand firmly in his as he led your (temporary) escape from another lonely gala. But those meant nothing, right?
“Nah, I’d poison you and take over the company instead.”
“Hey!”
Well, whatever, he was just your sugar daddy’s son. His sharp-mouthed, dangerously handsome son that just couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Not that you were complaining, really. Your relationship with his father was not exactly exclusive - you already knew that secretary of his was a bit suspiciously close - but that’s all he’ll ever be. Right?
Or, well, that’s what you stupidly thought.
It wasn’t until one night late in the Gojo Estate, cursing those ridiculously long hallways, that you get an inkling of exactly how wrong you were.
“Ugh, fucking rich people.” you mutter under your breath, wandering around trying to find whether the fuck the bathroom was. Because it doesn’t matter how many companies and businesses Gojo senior ran, the man still sucked at directions. You hiss, rubbing the tiny bruise on your neck - and aftercare too, clearly, even though that was in that damn contract. Something about an urgent business call with his secretary. Ugh.
After three wrong doors, a trip around the in-home planetarium (seriously, who even needed that?), and chugging a full water bottle from the third kitchen in exhaustion, you finally find yourself walking towards what hopefully looked like the bathroom.
Hand reaching for the doorknob to swing it open. Ah, this better be the one or so help you-
Now, Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. And you - hair mussed, and dazed, standing there in nothing but a large button-up, falling just below your panties - looked like a sinfully beautiful lil’ demon here to lure him into hell. And oh how gladly he’d go if it means he got to see this ethereal view more often.
“Ah! Wha- Sato-”
You don’t even know if you want to scream or not - torn between taking in the sculpted chest smushed against your face and not wanting to alert security downstairs. Reeling backward you drink in the sight before you and God how you wish you didn’t - it wasn’t too good for your heart.
Satoru’s hair was tousled, droplets of water glistening on his hair like diamonds. Skin soft and damp and smelling so delicious. Bathroom light bouncing off his rippling muscles, pecs flexing, as his strong arms reach out to steady you as you reel backwards.
Traitorously, your eyes snake across his sculpted body. Dipping below once. Twice. Cheeks flaring as a pang of disappointment hits you at the damp towel wrapped around that slutty torso. Wondering what’s underneath-
“Y’should take a picture, it lasts longer.” Satoru grins, like the shameless bastard he is. Though he wasn’t in any better state - eyes flickering between you and any sliver of exposed skin his eyes could reach.
“I should be saying the same to you.” you mutter, caught red-handed, shuffling your feet in embarrassment.
Satoru lets out a low chuckle as he pulls you closer minutely, presence practically enveloping you. “Oh, me?” he says, voice dropping to a husky murmur. Thumb tracing that little spot on your neck, “S’hard not to when y’look so appetizing.”
And you don’t even try to pull away because fuck this is Satoru and he looks so good - so warm under your fingertips, even when you jolt at the realization of what exactly he was talking about. Your hand coming up to cover that tiny mark left on your skin from not-too-long ago. A shameful little reminder that this was his son.
You grapple for some - any - sense of normalcy. Warning, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Satoru.”
He leans down impossibly, quirking an eyebrow. Both amusement and something unreadable flashing across his face. “Oh, but it’s got my father somewhere?”
“Why? Jealous?”
“Yes.”
You startle, taken aback by the blunt confession. So direct and something so Satoru. The word hands in the hair’s breadth between you two now, sending your mind reeling. And you can’t help but repeat, “Jealous?”
“Fucking yes.” There it was again.
But this time, Satoru plows on, voice barely above a whisper but ringing in the thick air. “Jealous he gets to have you all to himself but still doesn’t kiss you like you should be.”
“What do you-”
“Your lipstick.” he interrupts, swiping a thumb over your bottom lip, “Why’s it as perfect as since you came in?” And, indeed, you realize with a jolt that no you really haven’t been kissed the way you wanted - not enough to leave your make-up so sinfully ruined.
Minty breath fanning your face so dangerously now, and you barely even realize that you’re leaning into it, “If it were up to me, princess, I’d ruin that pretty lil’ lipstick of yours every chance I got.”
A delicious little shiver runs down your spine, head spinning at Satoru and his words and Satoru- And it’s all you can do to get out a shaky, “So why don’t you?”
And then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - like neither of you had the strength nor the will to stop.
Satoru tasted just like candy, such an intoxicating sweetness that had you gasping as his soft tongue licked at the seam of your lips. Intertwining with yours as he breathes you in desperately. So sloppy. Such a sinful little mix of saliva and teeth and pure need.
His chest is soft under your greedy hands, lips searing against yours, and you could feel his hands wandering across every inch of skin they could find. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again because fuck he knows that he might just not.
Long fingers dance delicately underneath that shirt to feel- oh fuck, you weren’t even wearing panties. Such a pretty lil’ slut and by God was he a goner.
Groaning into the kiss, he lets you loop your arms around his neck, hardened nipples rubbing against his abs as you tug on his damp hair. Honestly, fuck that thin shirt, Satoru thinks he might just pass out right here right now.
“S-Satoru.” you whisper against his lips, legs hiking up to grind your bare cunt against the throbbing erection straining against his towel. Already so wet from water or precum, you had absolutely no idea. You couldn’t give less of a fuck in fact, needing to see if Satoru’s cock was as pretty as the rest of him right now. Hands urgently dipping below the hem, starting to tug and-
“Hey, sweetheart. Did you find the bathroom?”
Shit. Fuck. Wonderful - perfect, in fact.
You would’ve thought Satoru burned you with how quickly you pushed him away. Cheeks burning, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Almost slipping on the tile as you try to compose yourself at a safe distance - one that wouldn’t end up with you jumping his bones again.
But all rational thoughts of that and your sugar daddy - Satoru’s father - almost go out the window once you take in the heavenly sight before you.
Satoru’s lips swollen, hair disheveled, towel hanging slightly too low off his hips. Giving you such a pretty peak of those tufts of snowy white hair at the bottom.
“W-we shouldn’t…” you trail off, as the footsteps get louder and louder. Something prickly and uncomfortable pooling in your stomach with each beat.
Luckily for you, Satoru probably catches on to how you looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now. Voice low and control as he agrees, “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t.” No care in the world for his steadily approaching father as he lazily adjusts his towel, a gesture so nonchalant yet distracting.
You swallow hard as he moves to walk past you, thinking that if this just so happened to be a dream then by God was it a good one. But of course - when has Satoru ever let you have it easy?
Because he stops abruptly in his tracks, fingers only ghosting the doorknob. Immediately turning back to walk to you with two, big steps, eyes gleaming, dimple flashing. And before you even know what’s happening, his lips are on yours. Featherlight and fleeting. But so so addictive. Nipping at your bottom lip, savoring you on his tongue.
It’s over before you know it, and a pathetic little disappointed whine leaves you as he pulls away. A smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he mutters lowly into yours, “Y’look prettier like this.”
Ah, you weren’t happy to see him leave but how you loved watching him go. Bathroom light so pretty against all the dips and curves of his figure as he walked away. White hair reflecting the warm hue, muscles flexing, hips slightly swaying with such a slutty little confidence that only Satoru could have.
As you watch him disappear around the door, you almost forget the unwelcome visitor hot on your heels any second now and - wait - what was it that he’d said? “Prettier like this”?
Turning to the mirror and-
Oh. Shit.
You better have brought your make-up remover.
God, Satoru’s never ran to his room as fast as this since that time he was caught using his father’s elite golf clubs to play pool with Suguru.
Because as soon as that goddamn door is shut, he’s ripping his towel off. Letting it drop to the floor in a damp pile God-knows-where as he immediately fists his swollen cock.
With a groan, he leans against the shut door. Eyes scrunching in such sinful ecstasy as he squeezes the base, pulsing and so achingly hard for you. A warning and a reprimand. Shit, how the fuck did he get this hard just from kissing your pretty lil’ lips?
Ah, whatever, right now he doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity to think too hard about it. Smearing the precum beading at his weeping tip, wetting his palm so sloppily.
Neat little crescents searing into his skin where you’d grabbed him before, only thing on his mind - how would you do it?
Would you ease him into it? Or would you start up a hasty, desperate little pace like he was doing right now? Shallow, quick tugs on his thick cock like you wanted to milk him deliciously.
Satoru’s hand was cold on his angry, hot cock. And with how many times he’s slipped his into yours, he knew yours would feel better around him. Both hands wrapped around his cock but still not covering all of it. So soft and warm, your nails scraping gently across his throbbing veins.
“Shit. Hngh-” he breathes out, voice almost-pathetic, “J-jus’ like that, princess.”
And what would you say? Tell him to shut up and just take it? Would you whisper into his ear as you let him fuck himself into your pretty fists? “So hard n’ big all f’me?” Satoru’s knees buckle at the thought, hand speeding up. “Y’look so pretty like this, y’know.”
Slam! Palm slamming against the poor drawer beside him hard enough to make its legs tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing.
But oh his fist doesn’t stop. No, he doubts he ever will - not that strong of a man to keep himself from getting off so filthily to the image of you standing at the doorway of the bathroom. You looked so ethereal - Satoru couldn’t help but imagine how even more sinful you’d look if he was the one done with you. Shit, you wouldn’t even be able to stand if he had his way.
“F-fuck, princess. M’gonna ruin you, gonna fuck you till you don’t know anything but m’name.”
He grips tighter on the base, thumbing under his slit in a way he knows your devious little hands would do. Fucked-out little grunts leaving his swollen lips each time his fingers meet his flushed tip.
“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he mutters hoarsely, letting out a low, broken little call of your name. “More. Need more, princess.” He wanted you so badly that it hurt.
What the fuck did that sleazy old man have that he didn’t? And that little bite? That would be nothing compared to what Satoru would do if he got his hands on you. Yeah, he thinks, body shuddering violently, he’d mark you up till everyone knows you’re his. Leave bites that peak out from your collar, all the way down to your pretty thighs.
“Y’belong with me pretty, could fuck you so much better.” Sweat drips from his brow, splashing onto his erratic fist. Thighs quivering, heart pounding wildly in his chest.
Satoru would almost be embarrassed by how desperate he was acting if he was in any better state of mind. Head only filled with you, and your hand and you-
And fuck for the sake of his sanity he can’t even begin to imagine how it would feel inside your pretty lil’ cunt. All he can think of is the way you’d keen so prettily, mewling out a little, “Oh s’too big.”
Would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you milk his cock? Or would he have to ram his dick into you, because shit as much as he loves that bitchy mouth, it would look so much better gasping and stuttering as he fucks you dumb.
“Oh yeah.” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Such a good lil’ slut f’me. Taking m’so well.”
God his hand was so sloppy on his dick that he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. Just wanting to fuck you and have you do this f’him.
Ah, your plushy walls would suck him in so nicely. One hand speeds up on his cock, while the other reaches down to cradle his balls. Tugging and pulling at the same jerky rhythm they would smack your ass while he stuffs you full.
So much better than any other sugar daddy ever could. Oh how Satoru would love to mess up your pretty pussy and your lipstick. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on if he could.
And you’d be able to do nothing but gasp and whimper into his lips, cockdrunk and dazed, “Shit shit shit- Toru m’gonna - Hah- Wanna cum. Please wan’ cum-” Oh how he’d burn down this entire fucking world to hear you call him that.
“Fuck,” he curses, bucking into his fist, tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, princess.”
“Cum f’me, Toru. Fill me up with y’cum- wanna take all of it.”
And then he’s cumming.
A ragged, raw moan of your name leaving his lips. Thick, hot ropes of cum that should be painting your pussy white - but, alas, he’s spilling into his fist so shamefully. And amongst the stars behind his eyes he’s sees you - you you you-
You, fucking your cunt deeper onto his cock to take every drop of his cum. You, whispering sweet little praises as his seed gushes down your thigh, telling him that oh he’s doing so well, and he’s the best boyfriend ever and you already want more-
You, at the arm of his father.
Shit, he needs to shower. Again.
---
Ever since that little incident that night, everything changed.
At this point, you didn’t even feel that usual little bitterness whenever your sugar daddy canceled for some urgent business. And, well, it made you blush to admit but you found yourself heading over to the Gojo Estate more and more frequently, often just to catch a glimpse of Gojo - or a quick kiss in the stuffy broom closet. Whichever left you more time to run away from looming security and his father.
But that was exactly the problem.
Because no matter how thick the tension lingering in the air between you two was, nothing had gone past heated kisses and touches. Either you were brought back to reality with the possibility of being arrested for indecent exposure at those galas, or someone just had to interrupt. Seriously, with how many times Satoru has had to pay off his poor personal assistant, you’ve been wondering whether he actively seeks you two out.
And it really didn’t help that Satoru always tasted so goddamn delicious. Fingers searing on your skin, cologne heavy in the heady air, it was hard to keep your hands to yourself.
But, hey, desperate times bring devious measures.
Which is why you were here right now - sinking into the plushiest bed at the Gojo Estate, clad in your delicate light blue lingerie. One that was custom-made in this specific shade of blue. Because while your sugar daddy preferred you in red, you’re sure he wouldn’t mind you using his credit card for other ulterior motives, right?
You just hoped that Satoru would just so happen to get a peak when you sneak out to use the bathroom later. What would he say? Would he like it? Would his eyes roam over your body, fingers twiddling with the flimsy lace?
But more importantly - would it be enough to make him break? Even if just a little bit?
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You’re startled out of your little whirlwind thoughts by knocking on the door. Steady, and matching your racing heart. Ah, Satoru’s father, you hastily get up to fix your hair.
“Yo, princess, are you naked or can I come in? Or can I come in when you’re naked?”
That wasn’t your sugar daddy.
Not even thinking of your current outfit anymore, you rush to throw the heavy wooden doors open to see that, yes, it really was Satoru standing at the door. All bright grins and flushed cheeks as he drinks you in. Brows raising as his eyes move down from your face once. Twice. Thrice.
Success.
“What’re you doing here, Satoru?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. Trying to hold back the smirk threatening to curl your lips at the way he gulps.
“Uh- My father’s off to some urgent b-business.” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “Told me to tell you he’s sorry and wishes you the breas- best.”
Oh.
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Satoru’s father has canceled on you. But it would be the first time that he’s canceled on you so conveniently enough to leave you alone with his unfairly hot son. Now, you couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste, right?
You lean slightly against the door, body ghosting Satoru’s, teasing him, “Well, when is my dear sugar daddy coming back from his business? Tell him I miss him.”
It’s a joke - and both of you probably know it. But that doesn’t stop Satoru’s brows furrowing ever-so-slightly, suddenly a different man from the flustered one he was just a few seconds ago as he mutters, “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight.”
“Aww, must be some important business.”
He clenches his jaw aggressively at that, gritting out a clipped little, “You do know that ‘business’ of his is his secretary right?”
“I know. What a shame, right? Guess I’ll just have to go home n’ wait for him then?” you mockingly sigh - God, someone give you an Oscar. Moving to close the door in Satoru’s face, only to be stopped by a large hard smacking into the doorframe - as you knew it would.
“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you come out looking like that and let you go home without tearing it to shreds.”
And that’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.
The door is slamming shut before you know it, and you’re shoved against it. Satoru’s lips such a sloppy mix of teeth and spit. Hands just everywhere - cradling your cheek, teasing your nipples through your bra, running down to squeeze and grope your ass. He just couldn’t get enough of you.
Fuck twiddling with the lace, Satoru seemed well and fully intent to rip it off of you. And you’d let him. Just like he was letting you shove his overpriced button-up down his toned shoulders. Soft little rips sounding in the heady air at the urgency but neither of you could give less of a fuck.
All you could think of is the way Satoru was so pretty and muscled. Drinking in all the dips and curves of pale skin underneath your fingertips.
“Fuck, princess. Chose this color on purpose, huh?” his fingers dive under the hem of your bra, “Wanted to drive me crazy, mm?”
“Y-yes, Satoru.” you gasp into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. “Wanted you to look at it. Got it custom-made all f’you.” words muffled as he sucks on your tongue. Satoru was always such a messy kisser, licking at the seam of your lips and intertwining his tongue with yours with no shame or shyness. A delicate trail of drool already starting at the corner of your mouth.
Ah, it was too much for him. Satoru almost thinks he could cum in his pants right now at your sinful little admission.
Which is why he pulls away to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, letting out a broken little hum of appreciation into your skin. “Thought so.”
And then your bra’s hitting the floor, tits spilling out into the cold bedroom air. But only for a split-second because Satoru’s immediately groping each and every inch of skin he can find.
“Look so fucking beautiful like this.” Rolling your swollen nipples between two fingers as he mutters - more to himself than you, “Was gonna let him see you in this slutty lil’ thing, too?” leaning down to tongue lazily little circles on one nipple. Words muffled as he wraps his lips so prettily around your tit - tugging, just grazing with his teeth, “Matching my eyes, huh? Fuckin’ gonna be the death of me shit-”
Satoru was insatiable. Wanting all of you all at the same time. And you follow his line of sight to see him locked on your dripping cunt - soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. Clenching around nothing as his pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight.
Like a madman, he immediately drops to his knees. But you don’t think he even feels the pain as he bites down on the hem of your wet panties. Looking up at you with dazed eyes - miles away.
Breath ghosting your quivering cunt, tugging lightly with his teeth, “Next time, I’m gonna be the one buying you these.”
Then he’s pulling - tearing your drenched panties to shreds. Grinning so devilishly around it as he gets his first sight of your pretty pussy. Oh you were so perfect for him. So mouthwateringly wet.
“Shit, princess. Can’t believe you were fucking holdin’ out on me.” he muses in wonder, eyes wide at the way your sloppy pussy was glistening in the dim lighting.
“You were the one that-”
And usually, Satoru loves hearing you run your mouth, but this time he’s shutting you up by diving face-first into your dripping cunt. Cute little mewls leaving you as he presses so shamefully deep that his nose was against your throbbing clit, rubbing languidly as he licks a thick stripe up your swollen folds.
And then it was like something snapped.
Because one taste of you and Satoru’s going wild. Throwing a leg over his shoulder to lick more desperately all all over your cunt, lapping up all the juices that gush out of you. Already so addicted because shit you were so much sweeter than in his dreams.
“Ah! Hngh- please.” you mewl, as he wraps his glossy lips around your swollen clit. All you get is a feral little grunt, his jaw parted, eyes looking like he’s on cloud nine as starts to suck harshly. Filthy little squelches filling the air as Satoru rolls his tongue across your clit. “Feels, s’good, Satoru.”
But your cute little whines turn into one of disappointment as Satoru pulls away ever-so-slightly. “Call m’Toru.” he slurs.
And he doesn’t waste any more time, tongue swishing in his mouth to spit on you once. Twice. Missing ever so slightly, and splattering on your thigh. You flinch, gasping out a breathless little, “Toru!”
“Oh shit, princess. Yeah- say m’name jus’ like that” he groans, ragged and raw. The last thing out of his mouth before he’s squeezing his soft tongue into your snug cunt. Dipping into your sloppy hole in and out in and out in and-
“He ever made you feel this good?” he moans into your cunt, the vibrations making you fuck yourself deeper into his unrelenting tongue.
“W-what?”
“He ever made you feel this good? Cum so hard you see stars?”
You gasp out a pathetic little sob, “N-no. Want to- Wan’ you to make me cum, Toru. Make me cum around your tongue.”
And, well, what his girl wants - then she’s going to get. Because Satoru’s lapping at your cunt even more greedily than before.
Stretching you out, breathing you in, looking up at your cute expression through his long lashes. Already so fucked-out for him.
Nose rubbing purposefully in small circles on your clit. Fucking you with his tongue the way he wants to with his cock and he didn’t give a fuck if he suffocated in-between your thighs - he fucking loved it.
“Hngh- shit shit shit yes!” your nails are digging into Satoru’s scalp at this point. The only thing steadying yourself to prevent you from collapsing onto the ground. And you really can’t help but angle his head just right so that his tongue curls against that one spot inside your plushy walls.
Thankfully, he gets the memo. Because Satoru’s letting out a strangled little grunt at being so used by you as you drag your cunt across his pretty mouth. Body jerking into his as he hits that spot over and over-
“T-Toru- hah!” thighs quivering, Satoru’s grip bruising as he holds you up. “M’m gonna-” Your plushy walls sucking him up, thighs squeezing around his face.
“Mhm?”
“Cum! M’gonna cum- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”
He groans huskily into your cunt. Throwing his head back ever-so-slightly to let your slick slide down his throat - greedily waiting for more that was to come. “Then show me how you cum, m’girl. Cum all over my tongue.”
And then you are - all over Satoru’s pretty face. And fuck he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier. Holding his head in place as you rock your hips into his waiting mouth, letting him drink you in so greedily. Clamping down on his tongue like you were trying to milk him.
And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d notice the delirious little heart eyes that Satoru was giving you, your cunt firm on his face and swollen lips letting out such pretty whines of his name. Toru Toru Toru - like a prayer as you fucking use him for your high.
Ah, he could stay like this forever, he thinks. But no, an empty house and you all wet n’ pretty for him means there’s too much more to do.
Which is why he’s pulling away, your slick decorating his lips so prettily. Smeared across the bottom half of his face and dripping onto the hardwood floor in a maddening little drip! drip! drip!
And Satoru knows, with the way you watch him so intensely, mouth parted, eyes glossy. Which is why he runs a thumb along his mouth, pooling your juices on his fingers and popping them into his mouth. One by one.
Your jaw drops a little in disbelief as Satoru licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste. Oh he was ruining you without even touching you.
“Not enough, princess.” he chuckles. “C’mon, gimme a kiss.”
And, really, how could you ever say no to that face? Because you’re pulling him to you as soon as Satoru stands to his full height. Capturing his lips in such a sloppy, filthy kiss - forcing you to taste yourself and you half-lucidly wonder whether Satoru loved the taste almost as much as you because it was so him.
Bodies so close that your dripping cunt was seeping into his unfairly tight shirt. Forming a lewd little dark patch when Satoru lifts you effortlessly to guide you to the bed. Tongue still entwining obscenely with yours as he splays you out on the soft mattress for him. Drinking in that adorable lil’ shock on your face as you bounce on the bed, so drunk off of him that you didn’t even realize he was taking you to the bed.
“Shit, y’look the prettiest like this, princess. S’a wonder m’not fucking passing out right now.” he hisses into your lips.
“Toru-” you whine, and shit the way his cock jumps at the mere sound of your voice makes you think that this will be a little trick you’re using more often. “Wan’ your cock s’bad. Wanna-”
You don’t even have the patience to finish the sentence before you’re fumbling with his belt. Something hefty and overpriced but you can’t possibly think about that right now because fuck you get the first sliver of milky skin.
Satoru’s thighs were so sculpted and thick. It made your mouth absolutely water to wonder what it would feel like to ride them to insanity.
“Y’wanna ride my thighs? Fuck princess, you really are driving me crazy.”
Shit had you said that out loud?
Ah, well, it doesn’t matter because Satoru’s pulling his boxers down - so tight with his swollen cock, a dark patch right where his weeping head was. And you almost pout at losing the opportunity to take them off but oh how you’re distracted by the sinful sight before you.
Satoru was massive - so long and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Shit, you were going to have to get a lingerie set in this color one of these days. He was achingly hard and throbbing, springing up to smear precum all over his abs.
And before you can even react, Satoru’s pulling you to him. Manhandling your pretty self so easily to straddle one, large thigh.
“Oh- hngh, Toru.” you look up at him all doe-eyed and teary as he doesn’t even wait for you to register what’s all happening. Grip bruising on your hips as he rocks your hips so sluttily on his leg. “F-feels s’good. Ah-”
“Yeah? Y’like it? Like getting yourself off like a lil’ slut on my thigh?” he groans into your ear, low and husky with need.
You nod wildly, sloppy pussy dripping all over his thigh, seeping into his skin as you grind your hips to meet his movements. “Like it s’much- ah-”
“Mhm? Better than anything he could ever do?”
“Yes yes yes, Toru-” you sob, cheeks burning as you realize that you’re humping him like a bitch in heat - but oh judging by the carnal little glint in his eyes, he liked it. Loved it, even. Because Satoru could feel the way your swollen folds spread to grind against him, clit pulsing so maddeningly against his skin. So filthy and messy as you used him to get yourself off. “S’much better- the best-”
He just didn’t expect to feel a soft hand wrapping around his cock. Eyes flying open to see you - all glassy-eyed, and fucking yourself on his thigh - wrap a hand around his cock. Starting to move in shallow, unsteady little motions up and down his throbbing cock to get him off at the same time as you.
“Wan’ you to cum, too, Toru.”
“Oh fuck.” he grunts, letting his hips fuck up into your fist in mindless little motions. “Y’don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
And with that his fingers were digging into the skin of your hips, forcing you to hold on for dear life as he drags your dripping cunt faster and faster across his thick. Movements erratic and frenzied now.
Of course, you were not one to be out-done.
Satoru’s precum spilling down your hand, your wrist now aching and wet, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. But you still tighten your fist around his pulsing cock, desperately flying up and down his length. Pulling in quick, jerky motions to milk him for all he’s worth again and again and-
“You’re so oh- good f’me, princess.” he hums. “Your hngh- hands are so p-pretty wrapped around my cock. So perfect for me.” Bucking his hips wildly to meet your hand now, fucking your fist with no shame. Pulling you harsher on his thigh. “S’such a shame you had to hah fuck- meet my father first. I’d have been so much better.”
“Toru!” you squeal as one hand moves deftly from your hips to draw quick, hasty little circles on your throbbing clit. The friction from his thigh and fingers too much to handle.
“I’d make you happier.” Your body is shaking now, hands messy and trembling around his swollen cock. “I’d make you laugh more and give you all m’time.” You can’t even look at him at this point, eyes scrunched close in ecstasy as Satoru whispers these maddening little phrases into your open mouth.
“I’d make you cum harder.”
Oh and then you are - tears in your eyes, body convulsing into his as you cum. And of course he’s smirking smugly as he watches you ride your high out on his thigh, brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. Not now. Not yet.
“So, better than him or not?”
But shit was it hard.
Especially when you raise your pretty, barely-lucid eyes to meet his, whimpering out a soft little, “I don’ know yet, Toru. Gonna hafta stuff me full of your cock if you wanna know.”
And perhaps for the first time since you walked in on him after the shower that night, the great Gojo Satoru is taken aback. Eyes widening in surprise, kiss-bitten lips falling into a soft oh! of disbelief. But not for long - never for long - because a devilish little grin breaks out across his face immediately afterwards.
“Shit, y’really are perfect f’me, princess.”
With a low growl, Satoru is easily pulling your body - limp and boneless in his hands - to straddle his toned hips.
You let out a yelp at the feeling of his fat tip just kissing your swollen folds, dragging teasingly along them, collecting the slick beading out of your sloppy cunt. Back and forth-
“Who’s got you feeling this way?”
“You, Toru.”
And then he’s pushing in, swollen cock bullying into your snug pussy. Thumbs drawing steady little circles on your hips - yes to reassure you but also to fight off that feral little part of himself that just wants to stuff your pretty lil’ pussy full until his heavy balls smack your ass. Not even waiting for you to adjust.
But no. No, it was so much better when you were the one desperately trying to suck up his cock. Gasping and moaning out strangled little whimpers of his name as you sink yourself down on his throbbing dick. Inch by fucking inch.
“S’too big- Hngh! I-is it even halfway in?” you whimper out, and Satoru could almost laugh humorlessly as he tilts his head to glance downwards and shit- he was barely a quarter in.
“No.”
“F-fuck” cute little tears streaking down your face now, thighs trembling, “Toru, I-I don’t think I can-”
“You can. And you will.” Fucking up into you in short, rapid little jabs to squeeze himself deeper into your tight pussy. Shit, it was such a squeeze, you were milking the ever-loving soul out of him. And it only made him impossibly harder inside you, making you whine and grind down - torn between chasing the feeling of being so deliciously full and the sheer pressure. “Shit, love when your pussy’s sucking me up so good.”
One hand is on your hip, sliding you farther and farther down his cock, the other drawing urgent, quick patterns on your clit. Not even circles anymore because shit Satoru doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity for that. Throbbing veins rubbing so sinfully against that one spot in your dripping cunt, splitting you apart to the same rhythm as the pulsing.
And as soon as your ass meets his heavy balls - already so wet with precum and slick - Satoru doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore. Mind spinning, he doesn’t waste any time at all.
“Fuck yes.” Satoru hisses, throwing his head back. “Fucking finally.” He pulls his hips back, far enough that his angry, red tip is just kissing your sloppy entrance, surging forward, forward, forward- “Y’don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, princess. Needed this s’bad, so so bad you don’t understand. Shit.”
And, hey, his girl deserved to be fucked dumb, right?
“Needed this ever since I saw you at that goddamn gala.” he whispers into your lips, ragged and so fucked-out. Each word punctuated by a harsh, heavy thrust. Ones that have you keening and grasping Satoru’s broad back for support. Nails raking down his shoulders as his pace gets faster. More purposeful.
And you can do nothing but take it, barely even able to form any coherent sentences. So prettily sat on Satoru’s lap as he fucks into you, babbling sweet little nonsenses made for your ears only. “Ever since I saw that murderous little glare you threw at those snobby guests.”
His balls smacking against your ass over and over. A quick, steady little tempo that you were losing your mind to. “Ever since you let me take your hand and drag you away to that secret bar to take shots instead of champagne.”
You don’t know whether you’re even crying at this point - all you know is that your cheeks are wet and your voice is broken as your let out a little, “F-fuck, Satoru- but your fa-”
“Fuck that.” he whines, and you could almost laugh at the adorable pout that makes its way onto his face. And at that you can feel him jolt so deliciously, head snapping up to meet yours. “I’m the better one.”
And as if he’s trying to prove it to your cunt, he’s drilling into you faster. Harder. Hips burning now as he fucks you like some animal. Hitting that sweet spot over and over. “I’m the one with the personality and the looks.” Long fingers almost a blur on your clit as he matches his place. Cock hot, and throbbing inside you.
“I’m the heir, I get the company, too, if that’s what you like.” He’s bouncing you on his cock animalistically now. Hungry gaze taking in the way you’re sucking him up so well. “And I’m funnier one, I’m the one that should be by your side.”
You see stars behind your eyes at both the pleasure and sheer overstimulation as Satoru starts fucking your cunt as best he could without fucking breaking you - but, honestly, he didn’t give a shit if you cried. He just wanted to stuff you full and have you cum harder than you ever have in your life.
“Fuck- fuck yes m’gonna cum Toru- hngh.” You pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “M-make ah! Make me cum, fill me up please, Toru.”
You feel him shudder inside you, balls squeezing so painfully. Hips sloppy and absolutely soaked with precum and slick. “Sh-shit, you’re not too good for m’heart. Ngh, f-fuck- I should be the one to make you cum. Over and over until you don’t know what it feels like to not.”
“Toru!” your eyes fly open, “Yes yes yes- it’s you. Only you-”
Oh, like something snapped then Satoru’s surging forward to bite down on the crook of your neck. Hard. You’d almost think he was out to draw blood. And then with a low groan, and one, harsh little thrust, Satoru’s cumming and cumming inside your pretty pussy. And you are too - back arching as you milk his cock through his high.
Fingers digging into your skin as he holds your hips to his, letting your cunt be filled up so sloppily. Pumping thick, hot ropes of seed that dribbled out of you each time he pumped his hips into yours. Fucking it deeper and deeper inside you.
And then you’re both collapsing, the exhaustion suddenly hitting the both of you as Satoru moves you both to lay on the mattress. Fuck, Satoru watches in wonder as his cum gushes out of you and forms a wet little pool on the expensive sheets as he starts to pull out. One round might just not be enough.
Yet not yet - he can feel his eyes drooping, muscles aching as he pulls your sticky body closer to his. And Satoru knows he should get up and wipe you both down. But right now, he’s too drunk off the heat of your body and that angry little bite on your neck. Distracted by the cute lil’ expression on your face, so tired and thoroughly fucked out. Fingers playing with his hair, looking at him with an expression so fond - just like in his dreams.
Nothing more is said. And all is quiet in your strange little heaven.
That is, until - “So, princess. Wouldn’t ya wanna be an heiress instead of a sugar baby?”
A/N. How we feeling???
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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I just started watching Dimension 20’s Fantasy high, halfway through sophomore year, and I do want a fic where people realise just how used to being part of a group the bad kids are. For example-
-I fully believe every single one of them is used to Riz climbing them so he can see better. It’s usually Gorgug, but it’s happened to all of them at some point. They might hold out their arm for him to jump onto a counter, or so he can pin a clue to his board. Before they all sit at a table, at least one of them makes sure their 4’4 friend can jump onto the table.
-Every single one of them has also caught Adaine after she had a vision. Sometimes she can just shake them off, but the big ones make her falter in what she’s doing, which can be dangerous. It happened once in a fight, and now the people standing closest to her are always ready.
-Fabian doesn’t really recognise he has a blind spot with his eye injury, because the others immediately clocked it. But this also means they walk in between him and the road, in case some idiot mounts the curb. They keep an eye on anything to his right, shifting drinks and pushing chairs if they can tell his depth perception is a little off.
-Fig usually stands in the middle of the group to intimidate people into not messing with them, so it’s sort of become habit to just crowd around her. After the battle, if no one’s seriously hurt or anything, everyone just wanders over to Fig. At this point, Fig is always the first one to yell out after a fight, just so they can regroup.
-Gorgug is the go-to for lap-sits, leaning, anything to do with being physically supported by another persons body. His hoodie is soft, and his headphones are loud enough that you can kind of hear it if your leaning on him. His parents weren’t great with nonchalant physical contact, in case he was already upset, so he takes great joy in his friends not being scared to hug him for fun.
-Kristin has left her staff at every single house she could with the bad kids. She leaves her bag in classrooms, the library, the cafeteria. Whenever the group leave somewhere, they do a full scan, because Kristin has probably left something and they grab it for her. No one has any clue who her bag actually belongs to, because all of the bad kids have been seen carrying it around school several times.
The school at large know who the bad kids are, and the town recognise them, but they still don’t know why all of them double check a room before leaving, or collectively carry a small stool around with them. One student with a fantasy iron deficiency faints in class and Kristin catches her before she hits the ground. Once, Fig isn’t in school for a day and all the bad kids have this restless energy about them. It is not uncommon to see them on the field during lunch, curled up in a pile on Gorgug. One guy tries to surprise Fabian from the right and gets body checked by Adaine before it even registers.
It’s sort of uncomfortable for everyone to see any of them without the others, because it means a) the rest of them committed a crime, b) the rest of them are committing a crime, or c) the rest of them are about to run in and start planning to commit a crime. And no one wants to lose their plausible deniability here.
#fantasy high#riz gukgak#gorgug thistlespring#figeroth faeth#fabian seacaster#adaine abernant#kristen applebees#dimension 20#the bad kids
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pent up stress
pairing : husband!jungkook x wife!reader
genre : smut , fluff
warnings : there is a babyy , oc is a stressed mom , jk relieving all her stress , nicknames used : sweetheart/honey/my love , sexual : clit play , fingering , cum eating , making out , oral sex (f recieving) , lactation kink , p in v , mate press (?)
unedited.
"shh, shh, it's okay, baby."
you gently pat your baby's back, switching from patting it and rubbing it up and down every second.
"my baby, hmm, it's fine. don't cry, don't cry, my love." you rock your baby up and down while spinning around the room, walking back and forth, doing all sorts of things to calm the baby down.
"sweet baby." leaning your head down to press a soothing kiss onto your baby's forehead, then another, another, and another and so on. there's a small smile forming on your face once your baby calms down a little.
"come on, shhh. goodnight, my love..." you carry your baby to his nursery, tip toeing, not wanna risk anything as you slowly bend your body forward to place the sleeping baby on the crib. and just as you do that—
"waaaahhhhhhhh! "
ah. yeah. right.
quickly retrieving back to your old position, your hand immediately flies to lay on top of your baby's back meanwhile your other arm is wrapped around your baby's body.
letting out a sigh mixed with exhaustion, you press your baby's head onto your chest, letting him listen to your heartbeat. please go to sleep. earlier you read an article saying that letting the baby listen to the mother's heartbeat makes them sleep better. please work.
don't get me wrong. your son is the best the best thing that has ever happened to you. he's your everything and you've always wanted to be a mom. but sometimes, it's just so hard. but you're aware that this is not something you can avoid and is prone to happen. and seeing your son's cute bunny smile at the end of the day was worth all the struggles. no matter how exhausting it can get sometimes.
it was around 3am now, after all.
your back was pressed against the headboard as you cuddled your baby into your embrace. half lidded, you watch your turn his face from side to side on your chest, trying to find a comfortable position and a few small squeaks leaving him here and there.
there's a small smile on your face while you rub your baby's back soothingly. meanwhile also trying not to fall asleep on spot.
but just as you were about to go against your own words and fall asleep, the door creeps open, making you jolt back up to look for who it is, only to see your husband's head peaking from behind the door.
he walks in, taking big but silent steps towards you.
jungkook smiles, "how's my babyboy doing?"
"he's a very bad baby tonight." you huff with a small grin, playfully, "but i managed to put him to sleep."
jungkook giggles, leaning forward to press a kiss onto your sleeping baby's cheek. your son squeaks, shifting his face from one side to another while comfortably laying his head on your chest.
"gimme the baby, honey. i'll put him to in the cot. you should get ready for bed." he pats your hair, twirling one of your strands.
"hm, okay." you get up, gently placing the baby in your husband's arms. but then—
the baby suddenly yelps, fists clutching onto your shirt tightly. you're startled, but you handle the situation just fine.
"ah, ah, ah, my baby." you're groaning, you're tired. but it's okay. you look at jungkook, the dark circles around your eyes very clear, but it's okay.
"oh, come on, baby. come to papa, it's okay." jungkook hums a small tone, one that your son for sure likes, as you slowly sneak the baby into his arm.
without even noticing the change of positions, your baby just snuggles into the familiar warmth of your husband's chest.
sigh. you sigh, sitting back on the bed.
"get ready for bed, my love."
you nod, just getting up from the bed and walking back to your shared bedroom.
by the time jungkook manages to fully calm your baby down and place him in his crib and come back, he finds you still on the bed blankly staring at the wall.
he's confused. shouldn't you be in bed already?
"honey, what's this? not sleepy?" there's concern written all over his face.
"are you okay?"
the moment he asks that, he notices your face turning completely sour with a big pout forming on your face. oh no, he knows that face very well.
"hey, hey, what's wrong?" jungkook quickly rushes to sit next to you, his hand now on your back, rubbing up and down and flattening any wrinkles on your shirt.
without any warning, you pull your husband closer by his arm and hugs him tight, face buried deep in his neck.
"i feel so exhausted." a small mumble.
your husband sighs, immediately noticing the problem.
"i know, sweetheart, i know. it's okay. just calm down for now, hm?" he leans his back against the headboard, pulling you closer to his body as you curled up into a small ball and let yourself be comforted by your husband's soothing heartbeat.
"we had this talk before, remember? days like this are prone to happen. and we have to get through it somehow." he whispers into your ear, pressing kissing in between his sentences as well. you hum, lightly nodding your head, agreeing.
"it's for our little baby. you're the best mommy i know and ever will know. just imagine us telling sannie about how much of a hussle he was when he's older." he chuckles, placing kisses on the crown of your head.
you smile into his chest, nodding.
"it's for our sannie." you mumble and jungkook hums, gently massaging your head. jungkook brushes his fingers through your hair, gently, soothingly, almost making you fall asleep. he had his head leaned downwards, forehead pressed against the crown of your head as he planted small pecks all over your forehead and eyelids.
"jungkook." you pull on his shirt, slowly making your way out of his embrace.
he just hums, caressing your cheek so softly.
stop. you love him so much.
you touch his hand on your cheek, leaning forward to connect your lips with him. your husband immediately smiles into the kiss, his fingers holding your face so gently as your lips moved against eachother perfectly.
his tongue licks your lower lip, slowly sneaking its way in your mouth. the tip of your tongues meet eachother, smoothly gliding against eachother as you to make out. like, really hard.
there's soft little noises coming out of the smacks of your lips, both of you eating eachothers faces out. not being able to hold back, you whimper, your fingers gripping onto jungkook's biceps.
you makeout for a few more seconds then breaking out for air.
jungkook couldn't help but let out a small squeaky laugh.
and oh, that laugh. it brought you back to the days where you both were just two highschoolers starting to like eachother. made you feel like a little girl having her first crush.
thinking about that had you forming the biggest cheekiest smile on your lips.
jungkook was a little confused at your change of expressions, but he just smiles it off. you sit up on his lap again, pulling your husband in for another kiss.
so you kiss.
but then, jungkook manages to get you to lay down on your bed on your back and him slowly getting on top of you. almost sneakily.
breaking from your kiss, you groan, letting your head fall onto the bed. jungkook snickers, almost evil, body laying softly on top of yours as he pulls you into another kiss. now, your legs are crushing his thighs, caging him between them while both your hands gripped onto his shoulders.
while you both are eating out eachother's faces, jungkook's hand slithers under your baggy sweatshirt, massaging your soft stomach.
"hm..." he hums, squeezing your tummy fat.
you both open your eyes at the same time, jungkook breaking down to a small giggle again. the tip of your tongues brush past eachother over and over again. fuck, you're getting so hot. you bet your face is as red as a tomato right now.
your husband brings up his other hand to hold you face by your cheek, then his tongue leaves you for a brief moment—and instead, he spits a globe of spit down to your mouth.
"swallow."
gladly, you swallow it down, opening your mouth again with your tongue out to show that you've done as he said.
jungkook huffs, smirking—fuck, he's so breathtakingly attractive.
"my amazing little wife. best woman in the world. best mama." his words flutter your stomach entirely. you swear you could see the butterflies flying out of your stomach.
you just smile in return, and that's more than enough for him.
"are you feeling any better, my love?" jungkook caresses your cheek as if you were the most fragile being on earth, touching you with so much gentleness.
you just hum with a small nod. but your hand touches jungkook's one that was on your cheek, then you put his fingers in your mouth.
jungkook watches you with amusement as you wet his fingers with your saliva. once you felt satisfied enough, you pull his fingers out. lifting up the hem of your sweatshirt using your other hand, you glide jungkook's fingers down your body, leaving a small trail of saliva on your stomach.
once you've reached your pelvis, you lift up little shorts, pushing his hand inside.
"touch me, jungkook." you moan out.
and i swear to god, jungkook swore he's never ever seen his wife hotter than this moment. he felt all the blood rush down to his pants, his dick hardening each second.
"shit—" his voice was so breathy, "you're so hot. baby, i'm gonna lose my mind." he takes a deep breath before diving straight down to your neck. he begins to kiss and suck on your neck, nibbling here and there, biting too. meanwhile, jungkook also makes sure to add a little bit of pressure to your clit. not doing anything but just pressing onto it subtly. tease.
you moan as your husband continues to suck and bite all over your neck, leaving little hickeys all over.
"i need you so bad, kook. please take care of me..." the last bit of words leave you in a whisper. jungkook almost feels dizzy from your words, god he loved it so much.
"i'm so tired, hm. need you to make me cum to relax me." you're caressing the top of his cheek with the pad of your thumb.
jungkook loved seeing you needy.
"alright, honey." he places one final kiss on your forehead.
jungkook spreads your legs further apart, fingers skimming over your soft cotton shorts over and over. and once he sees the little wet spot in between your thighs, it almost makes him drip the drool out of his mouth.
"ahh, pretty." his thumb rubs over the wet spot, caressing it and pressing onto your clothed clit. through your shorts, jungkook pinches your clit, making you let out a small squeal.
"just get to it, hmph." you groan. jungkook's smirk just widens more. your husband nods, taking off your shorts.
"ah, fuck, prettiest pussy ever, baby." the tip of his fingers dips in between your mushy folds, collecting some of your arousal. he brings it to your clit to get it wet, then gently rubbing circles on top. you whimper, nodding.
jungkook lowers his body down, hooking his arm behind your thigh, hoisting it up a bit. his body lays fully flat on the bed, between your thighs with his face pressing kisses all over your thighs. he also bites your flesh, not too hard but not too soft— well, hard enough to form little marks for sure. he bites a spot on your thigh inches away from your pussy, then flicking his tongue on that area, gently sucking it afterwards.
like this, your husband makes sure to leave small hickeys all over your thighs and take his time. while you were left squirming and the puddle in between your thighs just growing and growing.
i thought you said no teasing?
jungkook swipes his thumb over one of your hickeys, caressing it and then leaning forward to press little kisses over it.
"love these fuckin' thighs."
and without a warning when your eyes were closed, your husband decides to dive into the messy in between your folds with a long lick.
"ah!" surprised, you hook your fingers into jungkook's hair. he hums, licking stripes of your pussy. kitten licking your hole, his fingers tease your clit. he circles your clit slowly while his lips latch onto one of your folds, sucking on it.
jungkook pulls away with a groan, making you let out a long relieved sigh.
"more."
"hm."
he gets right back to licking your pussy, making long strokes from your hole to your clit. then he spits on your clit first, tongue immediately swiping over your clit repeatedly. it was the perfect stimulation to beg you for more. his eyes were closed, he seems to be in the moment enjoying your pussy as if it was his last meal. while making out with your clit, he decides to have some mercy on your hole.
your husband plunging two of his fingers in your pussy was the cherry on top for you.
"ah— ah, ah! mmh...!" your grip on his hair tighten. back arched, face thrown back, whimpering and moaning so fucking loud.
"shhh, you might wake sannie up, my love."
you nod vigoursly, pushing your husband's face deeper into your pussy and grinding. jungkook was going at an animalistic pace, his face completely smothered all over your pussy. your arousal mixed with his drool was all over his face. his jaw was already beginning to ache, but he didn't care. all he cared about was whether his pretty wife was satisfied or not.
his fingers thrust in and out of your hole sloppily. the scene was so messy. he loved how squishy your pussy felt. and that just made him think more about how you'd feel wrapped around him again.
one last tug and bite on your clit, you let out one last long moan, pulling onto your husband's hair roots as your cum gushed down your cunt.
"shit, oh fuck" your husband whines at the sight of your swollen cunt.
he caresses up and down your cunt with the back of his middle and ring finger. you hiss at the cold feeling of his wedding ring pressing onto your clit as if that whole finger wasn't just inside you just a minutes ago. jungkook realises you liked it. so he smirks, slapping your swollen cunt with the back of his fingers repeatedly, especially making sure his ring is slapped against your clit over and over again.
"kook!—whine haaaaah! haah, hh!"
he slaps your thigh harshly to get you to stop squirming around. once his wish is fullfilled, he forces open your thighs, diving right back into your slit again.
"jungkook!" you were already overstimulated enough.
his eyes were closed once again and nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. face buried deep in your pussy again, he carefully lapped at your sweet juices away with long satisfied hums against your cunt.
"hm, hmm, hm— so good." he reassures.
and a last little kiss was on top of your swollen clit. you let out a small mewl followed by relieved sigh.
"how are you feeling, baby?"
"good, so good. thank you." you pant.
"anything for my heart." he coos, kissing your temple.
aw. he said "my heart". your heart melted.
jungkook pokes your cheek with a smug grin as he lifted his body up and got off of the bed. huh.
"where are you going?"
"to clean you up?" he raises his eyebrow at you, slightly confused.
"what?"
"what do you mean what?"
"well— uh, i thought you were gonna..." you pout.
"hm?"
"kook, please fuck me. i am so horny and i need you so bad." there we go. jungkook's jaw was on the floor for the second time today. i can't lie, he was loving this new side of you. bold and straightforward. you're more vocal about your sexual needs now. you never were before.
he opens his mouth to say something, but shrugs while biting his lips, hurriedly getting on top of you again.
"shiiiiiiit, let me take care of you, mama."
your husband's fingers hook onto the hem of your shirt, pulling it upwards to take it off of you. he gawks at the sight of your tits, squished in your bralette. he hurries to take it off, throwing it away not caring where it may land.
his big hands impatiently grab your tits which were filled and heavy with milk. he looked completely hypnotised. squeezing and massaging your tits, his eyes glued to the milk that's leaking out of your nipples. swiping his thumb over your nipples over and over, jungkook looks over to you, asking for permission.
you nod.
immediately taking in one of your nipples in his mouth, your husband begins to suck relentlessly.
"oh, jungkook...!" your hand was on the back on your husband's head, instinctively massaging his scalp while he dived into your breasts.
he spits on your nipple then swirls his tongue on the saliva, dragging it all over your chest. the artwork being created on your chest was very messy, like always. he playfully bites your soft flesh and pulls it as if he could just bite a chunk off of you.
"tastes surprisingly good."
"surprisingly good?" you crack up a laugh, tilting your head to the side as you ruffled his hair.
"yeah."
he squeezes your breast again, fingers travelling from there down to your pussy again. with a smug face, jungkook parts your legs again, getting in between. he playfully flicts your clit just to earn an annoyed groan from you. apologising with a little kiss on your clit, your husband begins to rub himself through his boxers.
pulling his cock out, he slaps it on your clit a few times, making sure your clit was covered in his precum. then, he glides it down to your hole teasingly slow. spitting on his cock to use it as lubricant, he finally glides it in your drenched cunt.
"ohhh"
"ohhh"
both you and jungkook moan at the same time, loving—obsessively loving the feeling you just got. shit, that felt good. like so so so good. especially after waiting for his cock to slide in you.
"so warm, mama. so perfect for me. you're all mine." he just cups your face, staring at you so lovingly. jungkook holds up your legs by your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. his cock goes in and out of you steadily. short timed pants from the both of you take over the room, mixing well together and creating a small harmony even.
jungkook couldn't get over how pretty your pussy looked. so pretty and perfect for him. he was aware that you did have a bit of insecurities building up after your pregnancy. but being the sweet loving husband he is, he had a talk with you and reassured you that he still saw you the same, and of course he will for the rest of his life. you were everything to him. so perfect.
he spits a ball of saliva onto your clit, watching it dribble down to mix with his thrusts. he swipes his thumb over the small patch of hair on top of your cunt, groaning.
watching jungkook act completely mesmerised with your cunt only made you wetter and his thrusts grow even rougher.
his thighs snap into your ass like a drum, the sound of skin slapping and moans and whines filling the room. mostly yours. but you knew better to keep it on the low.
"shit, oh, mama!"
jungkook spreads your legs by the knees now, both your knees ending up on the sides of your head. his body leaned down to yours, breath fanning against your lips as he quite literally manhandled the fuck out of you.
the sex wasn't rough, though. it's like he didn't want to make it rough. but it felt so good. but he made sure to increase his pace at odd times just to rile you up.
"mm, haaaaaa!"
he knew you needed to come from clit stimulation though. so to make it easier, your husband moves your left leg to his right hand, his hand holding both your legs now as he fucked into you.
"oh my god, jungkook!"
immediately squeezing your eyes shut at the sudden stimulation on your clit, your breath hitches and toes curl. your husband rubs your clit in the form of an eight, pinching it then and there too.
"hmmmm, you're gonna cum?"
you nod repeatedly, eyes squeezed shut and feeling completely fucked. no pun intended.
"yeah? cum. cum so i can fuck it deeper into you." he rubs your clit faster, increasing his pace. you whine out loud as your sweet cum comes down, making your body shake under your husband's grasp. jungkook groans once your juices coat his dick as he fucks you through your orgasm.
"oh my god, i love you...so much!" you choke out, nails digging into your bedroom. shit, that was just what jungkook needed to release.
"fucking hell, say that again." he throws his head back, bringing both your legs up in the air again and pressed against eachother as he fucked into you.
"i love you!"
"ahh, shit, shit..." he groans, thrusts getting sloppier as he cums down your cunt. he collapses right next to you, hugging your thighs close by your knees. while both you and jungkook regain consciousness while laying on the bed for a few seconds, you also make sure to admire his afterglow and also to tuck a few of his hair strands away.
jungkook gets up fast though, but never misses to kiss your hand. he quickly grabs a tissue and cleans in between your legs.
you yawn, snuggling into the sheets.
"you just wanna go to sleep?"
you nod. but you get up, making a quick trip to the bathroom to pee. by the time you're back, the sheets are changed are new, neatly tucked too. your heart immediately warms as you smile widely, wrapping your arms around your husband and kissing his cheek.
"i love youuu!"
"i love you more, baby!" he pecks your pouty lips. he tells you to dress up while he goes to check on your baby. once he comes back, you're happily tucked in your bed with a big fat smile on your face.
"someone's feeling better, huh?" he scrunches his nose up.
"uhhuh!" you nod also, patting the vacant spot next to you on the bed. jungkook happily lays there, inviting you to lay in his arms.
"i love you, mama. god, i'm so crazy for you. thank you for all you're doing, honey."
#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#jungkook x oc#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#smut#bts#bts jk#bts smut#jungkook x you#x yn#yn#bts x you#bts x reader
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True Love's Kiss
Feat. Idia, Azul, Vil
Synopsis: You've fallen under a mysterious sleeping spell. Who can wake you up but your true love?
...
🎮 Idia Shroud 🎮
"ME?!"
Idia's shriek resounded through the infirmary before he was hushed by one of the nurses. He shrunk back in his embarrassment and turned back to the cheeky cat that was standing on the infirmary bed next to your sleeping form.
"Yes, you, shut-in. What have you got brimstone on your ears?" Grim scowled at the blue-haired boy who's hair was becoming quite pink with embarrassment. "Who else would kiss my henchman awake?"
"Literally anyone else, maybe?" Idia argued, hiding his face behind the collar of his jacket. "It's always Prince Charming in the stories. I'm about the farthest thing you could find."
"I think you're plenty charming, Idia!" Ortho chimed in with what would have been a smile if he didn't have his mask on. "Who's to say you won't break the spell?"
"I say," Idia groaned, his voice muffled by his jacket. "Aren't there any other cures? I thought Professor Crewel was working on an antidote."
Before Grim could open his mouth, Ortho interrupted.
"Nope! No other cure!" Ortho beamed with glee uncharacteristic for delivering grave news. "I already scanned and if my databases say there's no other cure than there's no other cure and you have to kiss them!"
Idia whined in mortification and buried himself further in his jacket, now almost entirely engulfed by the fabric, except for the tufts of flaming hair sticking out the top.
Grim tapped his paw impatiently, quite fed up with Idia's reservations. Every second you were asleep was a second that your poor, poor kitty boss went without tuna (he couldn't reach the cabinet where you put the cans).
"I could always go get Leona. He's a prince, so it's close enough, yeah?"
"No!" Idia shot up, his hair flared up in red, startling Grim so bad, Ortho had to catch him before he fell off the bed. Idia took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair until it returned to its regular electric blue.
"Don't even joke about that," Idia muttered through gritted teeth. "Makes my skin crawl to think of that grubby jock getting his slimy lips anywhere near Y/N."
"Fine, if you don't want anyone else to do it, then what's the issue?" Grim put his paws on his hips and shot Idia an impatient look. "You like them, they like you, they probably want to kiss you anyway so just hop to it! I'm starving over here!"
Idia snapped up in shock at Grim's words.
"Y/N... likes me?"
Grim scoffed in ridicule and rolled his eyes.
"Duh! What, have you been living under a rock? Oh, wait, you have, haven't you?"
Ortho immediately began protesting Grim's insult. Idia himself might've been offended if he wasn't preoccupied with his overheating brain.
Why in Wonderland would you like him? I mean that was just a ridiculous claim even though both Grim and Ortho seemed to believe it. Not many people even liked being around him much... but then again, you weren't other people.
You were the one who messaged him to go to sleep at midnight after gaming for too long. You brought him snacks and sat in comfortable silence in his dorm while he played video games. You never expected more from him and without realizing it, he has gotten used to having you next to him. It even happened sometimes that he would turn to say something to you while he was gaming, only to find you weren't there. It baffled him how you made your way into his daily routine almost without notice.
"Do they really?" Idia asked softly, catching the attention of both Grim and Ortho who had been exchanging some heated words of childlike manner. "Like me, I mean."
Ortho giggled at his brother's bashfulness.
"Of course they do! They never shut up about you!" Grim huffed, recalling the countless times he'd heard you practically gushing about the vitamin D deficient geek. "No clue why though. Guess Y/N likes 'em pale and sickly."
"I'm not- whatever," Idia didn't really have the fight in him to argue with Grim's impression of him. He took a deep breath and looked at Ortho. "Do you really think it would work?"
"Only one way to find out!" the little robot responded cheerily.
"What if..." Idia gulped. "What if it doesn't work and I just kiss them for nothing? What if..."
"Shut up and pucker up, dracula! I'm wasting away without my henchman!"
That earned Grim a pair of yellow-eyed glares.
Idia collected himself with a deep breath and leaned towards you.
"Nope, nope, nope, this is a bad idea, I can't do this," he panicked, standing up and waving his hands around in anxiety. Grim rolled his eyes and jumped onto Idia's shoulders, pushing him onto you with all the momentum the little creature could muster.
It was effective. Idia toppled forward onto the infirmary bed, catching himself just in time to not crush you, but not before his lips brushed yours.
Idia jumped back, crashing to the floor quite devoid of grace. He, Ortho, and Grim all held their breath, waiting for something to happen.
"Aw, man, our first kiss, and I wasn't even awake for it!"
Idia brightened at the sound of your voice. He jumped back to his feet to see your drowsy eyes locked on him.
"Hi, Charming," you lazily smiled at the blue-haired boy. "Thanks for rescuing me."
Idia's face went slack with shock and his face turned so red you were afraid he might explode.
"Perfect! Now that you're awake, get me tuna, human!"
...
🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙
"This is such a bad idea."
Deuce echoed for the nth time since Ace had come up with his little scheme.
"I know but just think," Ace smirked at your sleeping body, which the two were carrying through the Octavinelle dorm, Ace supporting your arms, Deuce carrying your legs, like they were carrying a dead body. "Imagine the look on the prefect's face when they wake up and see Azul They'll probably think they're dreaming."
"Yeah, I think they've had that dream before," Grim scowled from where he rode atop your belly. "Wouldn't be surprised with how down-bad they are for that slimy little junior mafia boss."
"It'll be fine, I'm sure," Ace dismissed, ignoring Deuce's concerned look. "And if anything bad happens, it'll probably be the prefect ending up with a contract, not us."
"That's kind of a terrible thing to say about a cursed person," Deuce pointed out matter-of-factly.
"Pssh, where'd your moral compass come from, huh?"
"From my mom," Deuce spat defensively. Ace was about to respond when they were both startled by a looming figure standing menacingly behind Deuce.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?"
Both first years gulped in fear at the sound of the eel's unison voices.
"Is our poor prefect injured?" Jade frowned though his eyes held a devious sparkle.
"Sort of..." Grim started but jumped back when Floyd grinned at him menacingly.
"We can't have Shrimpy being hurt, now can we?" he flashed his sharp teeth at the sleeping prefect. "We'll take 'em off your hands, fix 'em up real nice."
"Will we get them back?" Ace asked, fearing the answer. Jade responded with a squinty smile.
"That remains to be seen."
"Hey, wait a minute-!" Deuce tried to protest but was cut off when Floyd lifted your limp body with two hands and flung you over his shoulder.
"Careful, Floyd," Jade warned. "We can't have damaged goods."
The unfortunate trio was left to watch as you were hefted into the Mostro Lounge, wondering if they would ever see you again.
Meanwhile, in the Mostro Lounge, Azul was peacefully tallying profits in his office when his door was kicked down.
"What the-" he shrieked. Azul stared in horror as Floyd barged into the room with a body flung over his shoulder. "Did you... Did you actually kill someone this time?"
"Not this time," Floyd responded cheerfully. Azul managed to stand up from his chair right before Jade swept everything off of the polished mahogany desk in front of him.
"What are you doing?!" Azul yelled but was quickly silenced when Floyd set your limp body down on the now-empty desk. "Is that Y/N?"
"Yup!" Floyd said, popping the "p" with a sly smile.
"Are they...?" Azul asked hesitantly.
"Just sleeping, fortunately," Jade responded with a similar grin. "But I'm afraid it's the work of magic. They won't wake until..."
At this point Azul was very concerned. His crush was unconscious on his desk and his business associates were far too smug to have good intentions.
"Until what? Seven's sake, just tell me why you brought them here!"
"Very well," Jade bowed his head in respect that felt more mocking than anything. "The prefect will remain asleep until they are woken up by true love's kiss. It is the belief of myself as well as Y/N own friends that you may be able to fulfill this requirement."
It must have been at least a full minute before Azul spoke again.
Jade waited patiently with a smile as Azul stared in shock and confusion, the gears behind his eyes obviously turning at superhuman speeds.
Azul finally snapped back into his regular businessman persona.
"Well, of course, I am obviously the most qualified candidate to undertake his task," Azul said nonchalantly, though both eels could easily tell it was a front.
"We'll leave you two alone then!" Floyd winked suggestively at Azul, the octopus' calm facade cracking ever so slightly.
Jade and Floyd shut the door to Azul's office and he could hear their laughter through the wood.
Azul took a deep breath and looked at your sleeping form. You looked so peaceful, your forehead free from worried wrinkles and lips devoid of any kind of scowl. Azul was used to being on the receiving end of some of these scowls/ incredulous looks. He couldn't deny he might have deserved some of the scrutiny you gave him, given that he did attempt to trick your friends into contracts so you would have to come visit him to save them. Perhaps if you wanted him to stop, you should stop wearing that adorable pout when you confront him!
You took a breath and Azul stood up so fast it scared him.
"Sevens," Azul muttered, running a hand through his hair. "When did I get this jumpy?"
He looked at you once more, taking in every still detail about you.
"Might as well stare, since you'll never be this calm around me again," he whispered as if he was afraid you would hear him through your enchantment. He sighed contentedly as he stared at your sleeping face.
After only a few seconds, he snapped himself back out of it.
"Stop it, Azul, that's creepy," he scolded himself, taking to pacing around his room. "Though to be fair, kissing someone who is under an enchanted sleep is far more creepy than just looking at them."
He peered at you again. Though it was easy to admire your serene expression, it was uncanny to see your face motionless, without a laugh or groan or yell behind it. Azul took a deep breath and steeled his nerves.
"Even if they hate me forever, it's worth a shot," he quietly hyped himself up. "But isn't it just true love's kiss? There's no way I'm their true love, that would be impossible. They dislike me far too much. But I would never forgive myself if I could have saved them..."
Azul grappled with his inner thoughts for who knows how long, before landing on the conclusion that he should just go for it and kiss you.
"If they do wake up, I'll apologize profusely until they forgive me for kissing them and then possibly draft a marriage contract...?" Azul hit himself in the head to snap himself out of it. "Stop it. Now's not the time to be thinking about that."
Azul took a sharp inhale and turned back to you.
"Oh, screw it!"
He exclaimed and rushed back to his desk, pressing his lips to yours before he could rethink it. It was the slightest kiss, barely even a kiss. Azul wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he had truly taken advantage of you.
He turned away faster than even the brief kiss. He held his breath, trying to notice tiny details about his walls to distract himself from the tension.
"What is... Where am I?"
Azul spun around, eyes wide with genuine shock. Upon seeing you groggily looking around, he straightened and cleared his throat.
When you turned toward the noise, you saw Azul, the absolute picture of perfection he always was. You would never have known he was feeling anything akin to anxiety if it weren't for the nervous tapping of his custom-tailored leather shoes.
"Azul?" You narrowed your eyes, taking in your environment. You were laying on a table, alone in a small room with Azul. "What is this? Don't tell me you finally got the tweels to drug me."
Azul opened his mouth to protest, a bit concerned that you were so used to stuff like that that you just sounded tired instead of worried, but he remembered his gentlemanly guise and rethought his next words.
"Honestly, Y/N, do you really think me so cruel?" Azul smirked, praying to the Seven for an excuse you would buy so he wouldn't have to explain the real situation. "I was not the one who brought you here. You were merely... dumped on my doorstep, shall we say."
"I just remember Ace and Grim screwing around in alchemy and they dropped some dumb potion..." You put together vague pieces of your memory before it clicked. "Ooooh, sleeping potion. I was knocked out, wasn't I? Bit stupid of those idiots to bring me here, but isn't that how they always are."
You jumped off the table as if you hadn't just been passed out. Azul was honestly surprised by your chipperness. You sighed and turned to him.
"So what did you do? What do I owe you?" You looked at Azul expectantly. He blinked a couple times before he felt embarrassing heat rise on his neck.
"I didn't- well I- that is to say-" Azul stared, scrambling for words. Nobody but you could make him this inarticulate. He took a deep breath and collected himself. "You don't owe me. If anything, I should be paying you for recompense."
You furrowed your eyebrows, very skeptical of any supposed kindness coming from NRC's resident schemer.
"What do you mean recompense? What happened?"
"I may have-" Azul coughed, trying to brush off what was so clearly bothering him. "This particular enchantment required-" Another cough. "I believe the particular wording was a true love's kiss. I provided a kiss of such manner. Because of the impropriety of this particular cure, I feel a certain responsibility to compensate you for such lack of consent."
You stared for a long time. Azul imagined that must have been what he looked like when Jade first told him about your condition.
"True love's kiss..." You trailed off, subconsciously bringing your fingers to your lips.
"Yes and I will be happy to provide compensation for emotional or physical damages or- or other."
You looked at Azul incredulously.
"You just told me you're my true love and you think I want money?!"
Azul was quite confused now.
"Do you not want money?"
"Well, I could always use it but at the particular moment, what I really want is for this dumb octopus to come and give me a real kiss."
...
🪞 Vil Schoenheit 🪞
It had been a few hours since you had been unceremoniously dumped on Pomefiore's doorstep. Apparently, some alchemical accident had happened, leaving you magically asleep with no known cure. Crowley had dropped your limp body at Pomefiore and offered extra credit to anyone who could fix you. It only made sense. After all, the Fairest Queen was quite proficient at potions, and so Vil prided himself on the same.
No one else had dared touch you once he spotted your body and glared at them. He had Rook carry you to the makeshift potions lab next to Vil's room. Rook, ever the drama queen, took every step to ensure your comfort while in your enchanted sleep. He set you up on a table with plush pillows and a lacy blanket. Vil thought the flowers Rook had arranged in your hands were a bit excessive but he was more preoccupied with finding a cure.
Vil told himself he was doing it for the extra credit, but really, anyone who knew him knew he didn't need it. Some part of him didn't like seeing you cursed.
For the past two hours, Vil had been rifling through every potion book he had, trying multiple recipes and feeling a little more disheartened every time it didn't work. One of the elixirs he whipped up burned right through his potted fern. He elected not to test that one on you.
Eventually, Vil came upon a book about curse-breaking.
"Can't believe I didn't see this before," he muttered to himself, flipping open the table of contents.
There was only one page on sleep spells. Vil ran his finger over the passage as he read it.
"The only way a sleep spells can be reversed is thought true love's..." Vil interrupted himself with a scoff. "That's ridiculous, that can't be the only way."
He looked over at your sleeping form, clutching your bouquet of flowers. The color was drained from your face and even the shade of your clothes looked grayer. Vil felt a pang of emotion, like a hand squeezing his heart at the sight of you so lifeless.
You were usually so full of life, bringing joy to those close to you. You stayed just out of the limelight, content to support your friends in their shenanigans but having your own fun outside of the public eye. Oftentimes, you took Vil along with you, giving him a taste of what it's like to be treated like a normal person.
It disturbed him so see you devoid of a smile or eye-roll or any sort of emotion that you wore on your sleeve.
No matter what it took, he would find a cure.
"You've already found a cure," Vil imagined you saying to him. "You're just too scared to use it."
"What do you know?" Vil grumbled quietly. Had he really fallen so far he was talking to himself? He wished you were really talking to him, really showing signs of life, even if it was to scold him. "There must be another cure somewhere. I don't care how long it takes me to find it."
"You know true love's kiss is the most powerful thing in the world," Vil's imaginary you said. "There isn't another way. And besides, would you rather me be awake now instead of in the 6 months it takes you to find something else?"
Vil huffed, more annoyed by the fact that he really didn't want to wait than what you were saying.
"Then why don't you tell me how to find your true love, hm? That'll take me longer than 6 months."
His imaginary you just stared at him, blinking pointedly. He stared back, trying to decipher what his psyche was trying to tell him.
"You don't think..." His face fell when he realized what that look meant. "It's not me, believe me."
"Well, some part of you obviously thinks it could be, because I think it could be you and I'm just in your head," you shrugged.
"I refuse," he immediately declared, turning away from where your real self laid. "If you were real, you would not agree. And by the way, who am I to kiss you while you're asleep?"
Vil looked over at your peaceful face and he swore he could see incredulity in your motionless expression.
"Stop looking at me like that, potato. I refuse to kiss you without proper consent."
Imaginary you stared at Vil again, unsettling him more.
"Come now, I don't need this from both of you," he picked up a potion book, pretending to read it.
"You could save me," imaginary you offered, your voice solemn in a way he couldn't imagine perfectly. He'd never heard you that serious. Guilt suddenly hit him in the chest, drawing his attention back to you.
Vil stared at you longingly for much longer than he would have allowed himself if you were conscious. He groaned and walked towards you.
"I want to save you, Y/N," Vil declared wistfully as he stood over you. "I do know if I can be your true love, but Seven, I'm out of ideas."
Vil leaned closer to you and brushed a hair out of your face.
"Maybe I'll be able to do this right one day."
Vil brought his lips to yours gently, barely touching them before he pulled away. He watched your face for any signs of movement. When you stayed stationary, he turned away, trying to shut out his disappointment.
"Honestly, when did I get so delusional?" Vil scoffed, desperately trying to push down his feelings. "In what sort of foolish fantasy do I count as Y/N's true love?"
"Mine, probably."
Vil whirled around, his usual grace abandoned in his shock at hearing your voice in his ears in lieu of his head.
You groaned as you sat up, a bit confused as you examined the flowers you were holding.
"Sorry, that was probably a dumb thing to say," you laughed, shocking Vil with how easily you adjusted to your surroundings. "Though I guess you really are my true love. You can't try to deny it, I've got the receipts."
Vil's lip quirked up at your instant snap back to teasing.
"My word against yours, potato."
...
Buy me a Kofi! ☕
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#disneytw#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader
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Anger and Misunderstandings Pt 1 of 2
DILF Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
Context: An anon had asked me what if we had Angry Dilf Izuku but one of his kids disrespected reader, like what happened with angry Dilf Katsuki. Sorry for losing your question Anon.
[PART 2 OF 2]
This was a very interesting one to write considering the fact that Izuku grew up with basically a single mother and we've never seen him seriously punish the boys..
Note: Disrespect, shouting, arguments, angst
You sighed as you looked at the dishes that were still not done. You moved a hand to the bridge of your nose. Asahi hadn't done his chores- again.
Ever since Toshinori had gone to UA, you started losing a grip on Asahi. He was normally a very good kid, overwhelmingly brilliant especially at mathematics. He was the smartest kid you knew and it could be frustrating whenever he was doing college level mathematics at the age of fourteen and you couldn't help him, but he was overall patient and rather stoic.
However, you weren't sure whether it was puberty getting to him, or maybe it was something you weren't aware of but, Asahi seemed to find whatever you said as not necessary. Almost as if he didn't respect anything you said nowadays. He always had his headphones on and refused to talk to you. When he entered the car when you picked him up or whether it was moving around the house it was almost as if you just trying to talk to him was an inconvenience in his life.
You furrowed your eyebrows as you moved to go upstairs to his room. You knocked on his door. "Asahi!" You called. But your son didn't answer. You knocked again. "Asahi!" He didn't answer.
With a sigh, you opened the door without confirmation and you saw your son sitting at his desk with his headphones on. Sensing that something had changed, he took off his headset and turned to you. He sat up with furrowed eyebrows, shocked that you would enter without his permission. "Mom!" He slipped off his headphones to rest on his neck.
"Asah, why haven't you done the dishes?" You asked as you folded your arms confused, ignoring his offended look.
He ignored your question as he paused the game he was busy playing. "Mom, what the hell! You can't just enter my room like that!"
You tilted your head to the side as you looked at him. "I can and I will. Now can you please get off of your PC and go do the dishes."
He rolled his eyes. "Please, mom, you can do the dishes." You stated as he turned back to look at his monitor.
Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "That's your chore, young man. It isn't mine." You reminded him, however Asahi ignored you as he slipped on his headset.
"Sorry guys, my mom's just being annoying." He stated deadpan with you still in the room.
You paused. You weren't sure whatever the hell was wrong with him but you wouldn't just stand there and take it. You walked over to the power switch, and flipped it to switch everything off. Immediate his screen went black, his green eyes widened in surprise before his head whipped to look at you. You stood with a serious expression as you stood back up straight.
He opened his arms out in shock and offense. "Mom what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Don't you swear at me!" You shouted back at him, deciding that maybe raising your voice wouldn't be a bad idea. "I am talking to you and you're not listening to me! I told you to go and was the dishes. Recently, you haven't been listening to me and I'm sick and tired of it." You told him.
"Mom, get out of my room."
"What?"
"I said," He stood up as he pointed a finger to the open door. "Get out of my fucking room! Jesus Christ, just let me breathe!" He shouted at you. You barely got to understand what was going on when you were being shoved out of his room. You felt his hands push you out. Next thing you know you just barely caught yourself out of his room before the door was slammed right after you. You heard the door lock, keeping you out.
You kept a hand to the wall as you tried to process what just happened.
"Mom?" Hero stood in the hallway with a concerned look on his face. He held a rugby ball in his hands as he looked between the door and you. He put down the ball and walked over to you. He took you by your arm as he helped you to stand straight and away from the wall. "Are you okay? What happened?"
You weren't sure how to answer him but you gave him a forced smile. "It's okay, honey. Thank you for helping me" You told him with a kiss to his forehead, pushing back his green curls. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows worried. "I just need to call your father for something. Do you mind doing the dishes for me?"
He shook his head with a smile. "Nope." He turned to head back downstairs. With a flick of his fingers, the rugby ball he was previously holding, floated back up to him and into his hands. He went back down the stairs.
You didn't move for a second but then you turned and you went into your room, closing the door behind you. You took out your phone and called Izuku.
"Hey, my love! You know, I don't know what new recipe you used for this muffin but it tastes spectacular!" He told you from the otherside of the line, you could hear him munching on the otherside which made you smile. "What's up?"
You opened your mouth to speak but suddenly you didn't have the words. You felt your throat close up and suddenly you couldn't speak. You felt tears burn at your eyes as you leaned against the wall closing your eyes. "Izuku..." It was all you could let out.
"What's wrong? Where are you? Are you hurt?" The change in tone was instantaneous and serious.
You shook your head but you knew he couldn't see you. "Izuku, I can't do this anymore." You whispered softly. "I don't know what I did wrong or why he suddenly hates me." You let the tears fall as you put a hand to your head.
"Who?"
"Asahi." You revealed to him.
You tried calming yourself down, taking deep breaths as to regulate your breathing. "Honey, just breathe for me. I want you to breathe and tell me what happened? Is he giving you a rough time again?"
You let out a shaky breath but then you told him everything he needed to know. You told him how Asahi had been behaving towards you and what he said to you today as well. You tried telling him without bursting into tears, but it was difficult, but Izuku listened. he listened until you were done with your story. He stayed silent the entire time.
You let out a small hiccup as you moved a hand to your face. "Hero is doing the dishes but... Izuku I don't know what to do."
Your husband didn't respond immediately, the line being silent. "Y/N."
"Yes?"
"I'm coming home. Stay there."
Without any other word for debate, Izuku put down the phone.
You had washed your face and effectively calmed down by the time that Izuku had come back. Koda was now in your room, having wanted to take a nap with you in your room, which had him and you snuggled up in bed together, his head on your lap as you were on the cusp of tired sleep.
The door to your bedroom, opened which revealed your husband who walked through the door with his workbag on his shoulder. He dropped his bag on the floor and walked over to you.
"Izuku." You let out softly. "You didn't have to cut your day short."
He walked over to your side of the bed, moving to put his hand to your face, his large hand was gentle as he cupped your cheek. "I did." He told you honestly. He looked over your face. "Are you hurt? Are you alright?"
You put your hand over his own with a gentle smile. "I'm fine." You informed him.
"Good." With that, you saw your husband's face harden as he moved back out of the room.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you carefully put Koda's head off of your lap and moved him into your arms. You carried him out of your room, figuring that you and Izuku might need to talk later, so you moved him to nap in his room, before following after Izuku. You closed the door so that he wouldn't be disturbed. Izuku moved to open Asahi's door but noticed it was locked. He frowned.
There had been a rule in your house on no locked doors that wasn't the master bedroom or the front door. Clearly that rule had been broken.
Izuku gripped the door handle again and it didn't take much effort with just a slight shock of power of One for All, that he broke the lock and opened the door, pushing in like it was nothing.
Asahi took off his headphones, but his eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight of his father. Knowing that today was a long day and one that Izuku would typically be back in the evening. But then he noticed that his father was actually in his room and the lock wasn't still on. "Dad? What are you-"
"What did you say to your mother?"
"What?"
"Do not say 'what' to me. You heard me." You stayed out of the conversation between the both of them but you stayed by the door not wanting to come in. Izuku stood with his hands resting on his hips. Asahi was silent as he stared up at his dad. Izuku tilted his head. "Hm? You can disrespect your mother and shout at her but you can't talk to me? Talk to me like you talked to your mother." He motioned back to you. Asahi remained silent. Izuku frowned, green eyes dark and nothing but disapproval on his face. "Did you, or did you not talk back to my wife when she told you to do the dishes? I want an answer."
"I..." Asahi felt a ball in his throat as he looked down away from Izuku. "I did."
"Who are you talking to?"
He hesitated. "You, dad."
"And how do you address me?" He asked with a borderline scowl. Asahi kept his head down, not looking up at him. Izuku wasn't even shouting and yet you could feel the tension in the room.
"Sorry, sir."
Izuku let out a huff, satisfied with that answer. "Did you raise your voice at my wife?"
"I did, sir."
"Did you curse at my wife?"
"I did, sir."
"Did you slam the door on my wife? Did you lay a hand on my wife?" He asked.
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry."
Izuku let out an amused cynical chuckle. "Are you?" He asked with a tilt of his head. "Because you didn't seem sorry when you did it. Let me remind you, of something, Asahi..." Izuku bent down to look at his son dead in the eye. He pointed back to you. "Before she is your mother, she is my wife. This is our house and you are going to respect that and you are going to respect her. If she tells you to do something, you do it. I don't want excuses or back chat, or anything coming out of you. She brought you into this world and she deserves your respect. Do you understand me?"
Asahi nodded his head as he looked away from his father, with a frown. "Yes, sir."
Izuku stood back up straight as he moved his hands to his hips. "Now where on earth did you get such an attitude from, because you sure as hell did not get it from me, nor did you get it from this family either. So where did you get it from?"
Asahi shrugged but kept quiet. He swallowed down not saying a word.
Izuku didn't like that. "You really don't know?" He didn't receive a response back. Izuku sighed as he nodded his head. "Okay."
Your husband moved from his spot as he reached over to unplug his computer from the wall. Asahi's eyes went wide as he stood up from his chair. "What are you doing?"
"You're being punished." Izuku said simply. Lifting up the PC, like it weighed nothing, picking it up off the table.
"Dad! That's not-" Asahi stopped talking as his father gave him a look that quickly shut him up.
Izuku paused as he looked at his son. "Not fair? Shouting at your mother in her own house is not fair." He turned and put the PC outside of Asahi's room before dusting his hands and looking back to your fourteen year old son.
"But my friends talk like that all the time." He reasoned.
Bingo.
Izuku tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "Well you need new friends, Asahi because that isn't the way we talk to adults, nevertheless the ones that are the reason for your existence. What does it matter what your friends think?"
Asahi frowned, clearly angry with what his father had said. "Dad, you don't know what it's like to be in school! I'm the youngest one in my class and I'm quirkless!" He put his hand to his chest. "I'm not like Toshinori that can just be like you and have an amazing quirk and have friends! You don't know what it's like to be quirkless!"
"I do know what it's like!" Your husband expressed, with urgency. Seeing a piece of his young middle school self in his son. "I know what it's like to be bullied and rejected for being different, but I never disrespected my parents because of it."
"How would you know? You don't know how it feels to have you as a dad! You don't know how it feels like to have a dad at all!" The moment the words flew out of his mouth, he instantly regretted it.
Your face fell in shock, as you quickly put a hand over your mouth in shock. Izuku didn't move, but his face fell of all emotion. Not a hint of sympathy, empathy or even anger. He was emotionless.
You quickly entered the room and you put a hand to Izuku's arm. You took his hand in your own as you tugged him backwards, towards the door. "He didn't mean it." You told him softly. However, your husband didn't look at you, as he looked at Asahi.
Asahi hesitated. "Dad-"
Izuku raised a finger, indicating that he didn't want to hear it. A shaky breath left your husband and you moved to hold onto his arm. Izuku closed his eyes but moved to pull you into his side, moving to have you pushed into his side as he took a moment.
Izuku took a few seconds, before finally giving a response. "Pack your bags." He spoke void of emotions. Asahi's face fell in fear. "You're going to stay with your grandma this weekend. I... I am not angry with you, I am just deeply disappointed in you. I think we all need time to think and re-evaluate this conversation and to be away. Just for the weekend." Leaving nothing more to the conversation, your husband turned and went out of the room.
Nothing was said for a moment as you both watched Izuku leave. You turned back to look at your son, not entirely sure what to say yourself.
Asahi looked to you. "Mom... Mom you've got to-" Asahi stepped towards you but froze. He watched you step a step back in caution, almost as if you were afraid he was going to push you again. You didn't think to do it. It was an automatic response. However, Asahi saw it. You had never stepped away from him before. Tears brimmed at his eyes. "Mom..."
You let out a breath, not sure how to tackle this. You swallowed down hard and turned to leave the room. "Just please, pack your bags for the weekend. I'm sure your grandma would be glad to have you. Just..." You hesitated. "Just be nice to her. You know how gentle she is. I'll be back to help you pack." You moved to follow after Izuku.
Your husband was back in your shared bedroom. You closed the door behind you as you turned to look at him, his hands covered his face as he sat there, motionless. Your own eyebrows furrowed but you walked towards him. You moved to thread your hands through his hair, standing between his legs.
At the feeling of your embrace. He moved to wrap his arms around you, burying is face by your stomach. You heard stuttering breaths. He held onto you tightly, almost as if you would disappear. You were both silent as you existed together for a moment. You carefully crawled into his lap, allowing him to move so that he could bury his face in your neck as he held you in his arms.
You placed a kiss to his neck as you pulled a hand through his hair. "You made a good decision." You told him softly.
Izuku was silent for a second. "I hate what he said."
"I know."
"I was so fucking angry. Y/N, I could have-"
"I know." You nodded your head with a soft whisper. You rubbed his back. "But you didn't. That's what makes you a good man, and a good father too." You reminded him.
He nodded his head with a stuttered breath but you held him. Suddenly you felt soft gentle kisses to your neck.
You paused. "Izuku..."
"Please." He whispered softly. "I don't want to think right now." He confessed. You felt one hand snake underneath your shirt as he crawled up your back. "Please..." He asked.
You couldn't deny that it was tempting and you couldn't deny it yourself. You sighed and nodded. "Okay." You allowed it, moving his face up to look at you, eyes red with tears. He kissed you and you kissed him back.
-Glitch1d
[Midoriya Izuku Masterlist]
#izuku midoriya x reader#mha x y/n#izuku x reader#dilf mha#dilf izuku midoriya#dilf deku#dilf midoriya#dilf izuku x reader#midoriya izuku#deku x reader#midoriya x reader#izuku midoriya#bnha#mha#Midoriya Family Shenanigans
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𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂- 𝘀.𝗿.
pairing- s1!spencer reid x bau!reader
w.c.- 3.9k (wtf omg)
summary- spencer reid is your best friend. you’re in love with him, he wants someone else.
warnings- the jeid narrative in s14 pissed me off so bad i wrote this, miscommunication trope, reader obsesses over his hair (same), idiots in love, wingwoman!penelope
a/n- to be clear i am not a jj hater, i love her. i just don’t like what the writers tried to make happen between her and spencer
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
the soft glow of the morning sun floats through the window, coating the bullpen of the behavioral analysis unit in a peaceful golden light. you bask in the soft start of your morning, a rarity in your line of work, sipping your coffee as your fingers clack against the computer keys. the peace of your morning is ripped from you suddenly, though, when gideon and hotch barge from their offices in quick pursuit of the conference room. the team immediately follows suit, scurrying after one another to follow the two men.
hotch stands at the head of the room, sternly describing the case file he’s just received. there is a serial killer in the d.c. area, obsessed with leaving texts of ancient egyptian script at the crime scenes. as an analyst for the bau, you’re assigned to stay in the conference room with spencer in order to help decipher what the killer is trying to tell authorities. you share a smile with the boy next to you, both eager to tackle yet another assignment together.
you were hired to the bau as a young academic fresh out of graduate school, the same year as spencer. you two initially bonded over your shared love of reading, of analyzing text. it’s this skill that’s made you an asset to the team. you can decipher handwriting left by criminals in order to profile them; you can understand and analyze complex documents left for you at crime scenes, just like in today’s case. you found a partner in spencer very early on. you two were assigned those kinds of analytical tasks often, and proved to be very good at it, good at working together, at being together.
it wasn’t long before the mere sight of him started to give you butterflies, your chest constricting with affection. you cherish the late nights you’ve spent with him, in and outside of the office, inspecting documents and handwriting samples, the times where you’ve reached for the same file and your fingers brush together. movie nights at his place on the weekends, when you get so tired you allow yourself to curl into him, to let him wrap his arms around you, to pretend you’re something more. something in your stomach grows hot, and your palms start to sweat. you barely even notice that everyone else has gone off on their own assignments, leaving you and spencer alone in the conference room together. he sends you a million dollar smile and you get to work.
after a few hours of hard work, you suggest taking a lunch break. your lungs rejuvenate from the fresh air as you eat in the courtyard. you close your eyes and tilt your head up, feeling the glow of the sun warm your face, sighing as the vitamin d floats through your body. you can feel spencer’s eyes on you, and your heart kicks against your chest. how much longer you can take without confessing to him, you’re not sure. the limbo of being in love with your best friend is a torturous predicament to be in, especially when you work with him.
“hey, i need to ask you something,” spencer mumbles, and you see him pull out two tickets to a cowboys football game.
your heart now hammers against you, like a boulder spasming in your chest. your hands are sweating, shaking; is this it? could he be doing the hard part for you?
“gideon gave me these on my birthday. i don’t know if you knew this, but it’s j.j.’s favorite team. i was thinking of asking her on a date with them, but i haven’t watched a football game in over ten years,” he chuckles sheepishly, squinting his eyes down from the sun. “do you think it’s a good idea? i thought i should come to you since you’re my best friend, you wouldn’t steer me wrong.”
best friend. those words pierce through your gut like you’ve been shot with an arrow. you’re thankful his eyes are turned away from you, so he can’t see the infliction of those two fateful words.
“um-yeah,” you breathe out, barely audible, “i think it’s a great idea. it doesn’t matter if you don’t really watch football. if she likes you she’ll want to spend time with you, no matter what,” you fake a smile and pray to anyone that would listen to please convey the true message of your words, what you’re really saying. you know it falls on deaf ears, though, as you turn to throw your half eaten lunch in the trash, returning inside 30 minutes earlier than agreed upon.
“woah-where are you going?” spencer hastily cleans his things and jogs to catch up with you.
“i just think we need to get back to work. this case isn’t going to solve itself,” you shoot him a bitter smile, opening the door and not holding it open for him behind you, like you always do.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
j.j.? you think to yourself as you now delegate your portion of the work at your desk. the thought of being trapped in that conference room alone with him after your conversation at lunch unzips a shiver down your spine. your forehead is resting in your palm as your brain fights to focus on the case, and not drift back to spencer.
you were in complete and utter disbelief that the object of his affections has been j.j. this whole time.
j.j. is your friend, and you’re not mad at her. it’s not her fault that she’s the one spencer’s developed feelings for. you’re just completely caught off guard, utter shock clinging to every nerve in your body. you thought, after all of those shy smiles you’ve shared alone in conference rooms, the late night conversations on the jet, the nights you’ve spent at his place, that they meant something more. you’re just shocked none of it did, and that you’ve completely misread your entire relationship with him.
if gideon gave him the tickets, that means he sees what’s going on between them, too. you furrow your brows, squeezing your eyes closed at this revelation. god, you feel so stupid. how could you have let your own feelings blindside you from what your best friend actually wants? you have no future in profiling, that’s for certain.
you see a shadow looming over your desk from your peripheral vision, and you know who it is merely from the outline of his hair. you look up to find a sheepish spencer reid, seemingly nervous to even be approaching you. you hate that. you hate the idea of him on a date with j.j. even more, though.
“what’s up?” you try to sound interested, but you can both hear the restraint lacing your tone.
“i think i found something. we, uh-we need to gather the rest of the team,” he states.
his voice is quiet, small, his big brown eyes are boring into yours. you nod. the tension grows thicker the longer you stare at each other, eyes desperate to convey everything your mouths are too afraid to say. the file spencer was holding slips through his fingers, falling on your desk with a crisp clack. the noise cuts through the trance you find yourselves in, and you go red as a tomato, looking in your lap to avoid those lethal eyes.
“let’s go,” you mutter, walking past him without so much as a glance.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
over the course of the next week, you spend many work hours nursing your bruised ego in penelope’s batcave of an office. as the two analysts of the team, a lot of your work overlaps, so hotch didn’t raise a brow at the sudden change in your routine, not working with spencer so much. you’re able to tell her about everything going on with him during your brief moments of down time, when you’re filing paperwork or doing light research.
“oh. my. god.” she gasps, aware of your feelings of him from the start, “babe. no way,” she swivels her chair so she’s fully facing you, “i’m sorry! i thought he was into you, too,” she frowns, handing you a unicorn plushie from her desk drawer, “here, take mr. unicorn. he’s the best man on the planet.”
you chuckle sadly and squeeze the soft animal, utilizing its comfort as much as you can. “thanks, pen,” you settle your cheek on the squishy animal’s head and look at her sadly, eyes glassy and big, “i think it was too good to be true. he’s almost too perfect, maybe this is a sign.”
you see her deflate at your defeated tone, her hand reaching out to grab yours, running her thumb over your skin. you stay like that for a moment, allowing yourself to feel the complex emotions you’ve suppressed throughout the week. you’ve only spoken to spencer two or three times this week, about work things only, and it’s wednesday. each day that passes like this weighs heavy, like an anvil on your heart. the feeling is so overwhelming you have no choice but to suppress it until you get home, lest the floodgates are unleashed in the same vicinity as the perpetrator.
paperwork it is.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
that following monday, you sit, stewing at your desk, desperate to blend in to the background. you think back to one week ago, one week since you’ve had that fateful conversation with spencer. you nearly have whiplash from how fast things have changed in only a week. you yearn for the softness of that morning, of the blissful ignorance in thinking that you actually had a chance with spencer reid. your heart aches, the vulnerable throb in your chest paralyzing you. you rest your chin in your hands as your eyes mindlessly drift over emails you missed from the weekend, willing your brain to not work so hard unless absolutely necessary.
you’re snapped out of your pity party by the click of a door unlatching, the soft patter of converse on tile filling the bullpen. your eyes involuntarily follow spencer as he barges in. he’s impossible to ignore, clad in the most adorable button up/sweater vest combo you have ever seen in your life, walking full speed ahead with a scowl planted firmly on his face. the look on his face is so wholly unfamiliar, a look of hurt masking his usually soft features, the light in his eyes gone. the contrast is enough to shock you back to life once more, now registering a flustered penelope hot on his tail. the click of her heels echo through the bullpen in a desperate attempt to keep up with a man who is nearly a foot taller.
“spencer-wait! ugh!“ penelope grunts as spencer falls into his desk chair, immediately using work as a means to deflect. his back is to her as he sifts through the files littering his desk.
you study him from where you sit, his brows furrowed, his shoulders slumped, and lips in a tiny pout that pokes and prods at your heart. penelope gives up quick, turning away with a grunt and a look on her face that read ‘don’t ask’. on her way past your desk, though, she leans in and whispers, “meet me in my office after our meeting,” making your eyes go wide and your heart pick up in speed.
you use the new case to distract your mind from what could possibly be going on with spencer, and opt to stay back with penelope during this case. when you make your decision known in the conference room, spencer flinches. you just barely catch it out of your peripheral, you’re not sure you would have even registered it had garcia not smacked you in the thigh immediately after it happened. hotchner’s eyes flit from you, to penelope, then to reid. morgan coughs. the team is then dismissed.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“she brought you to the date?!” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.
“yes! i had no idea it was the date,” penelope gushes. you’re setting up materials for the case, waiting for the team to land for more information. in the meantime, she fills you in on the weekend, “i’d just assumed it was a separate event. it never occurred to me that she would invite another person to that. poor spencer’s never been so disappointed to see me,” her tone turns a bit guilty at that, and now it’s your turn to flinch at his name.
“that’s insane, why would she do that?” you ask, bewildered.
“to be honest with you, i have a few ideas…” penelope teases, setting up her computer for the day.
your eyes narrow into slits as she files her nail, feet up and resting on the desk as the rest of her equipment loads.
“what?” you breathe out, even though you both knew.
“come on,” she kicks her feet off the desk and swivels to face you, frozen in front of a box of files, stricken by what you both know is coming next, “it’s you. he has feelings for you, for sure. j.j. knows it too, everyone does. we all see it.”
“really?” you once again can’t believe your ears. relief floods your veins, the rush too sweet to pay attention to your conscious, desperate to sprinkle some guilt in there. you don’t care, though, not after the pure and utter agony of the past week.
“yes, of course! he likes you, i have no doubt about it,” penelope states matter of factly.
you round the corner of the desk and come to sit on a chair opposite her, “what makes you say that?” you’re unintentionally severe, palms resting flat on your thighs, leaning into her as to not miss a word. luckily for you, though, penelope is just as intense.
“it became clear to me when i saw them interact at the game. yes his ego was bruised a little, but he was light, airy. almost relieved. nothing like how he came in today,” she remarks, and your brows knit together in confusion.
“so you’re saying he was at ease with her, but nervous and grumpy when he had to be around me. that doesn’t make any sense,” penelope rolls her eyes at your denial, but you’re quick at the defense with a new argument, “and he told me gideon gave him those tickets to ask her out on a date. it’s her favorite team.”
you cross your arms across your chest and lean back, “i appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, penelope, but if the best profiler on the team could tell he likes her, then he likes her. not me.”
just saying it causes the crack in your chest to reappear, callusing your heart once more.
“ugh, no!” she exclaims, “you two are the most stubborn people i’ve ever met in my life, i swear!” she rolls her eyes and turns back to her now fully loaded equipment as your jaw hangs open in shock.
“what is that supposed to mean?” you lightly scoff.
“all i’m saying is that he was relieved that j.j. brought me, that he was being rejected. after the initial disappointment passed, that is. you’re going to have to get the rest of the information from spencer himself,” she decides, just as her phone starts to ring. saved by the bell, damn her. “talk to each other. you miss each other. everybody can tell and it’s getting sad, like watching two lost puppies roam aimlessly without each other.”
before you can give an answer to her crazy analogy, she turns away from you and flips open her cell phone, “talk to me!” she chirps, and hotch’s stern voice brings you back to the task at hand. you’ll simply have to talk to spencer later. great.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
the team was able to land back at home that same night, luckily closing a quick case. after penelope says goodbye to you and spencer, you’re both the last ones in the bullpen. you two anxiously glance around, desperate for anybody else to be there, to break the suffocating tension between you two, thick and heavy with unanswered questions, words unsaid.
as you walk past spencer’s desk, he goes to walk with you, next to you. you haven’t been this close in proximity to him in a week, and the smell of his cologne, his aftershave, makes you heady. you both stop at the elevator, unsure who should go first. you decide on impulse that it has to be you, you can’t take this any longer. you turn to face him, and say the first thing that comes to your mind,
“she brought penelope?”
had it been anybody else, you may have kicked yourself for shoving your foot squarely into your mouth, but it’s spencer, so he laughs. it’s an eye creasing, cheeks bunched up, teeth showing kind of laugh, and you have no choice but to laugh, too. there’s a pang in your heart as this familiarity dawns upon the two of you once again. you’re desperate to keep it, so much so that you don’t move when the elevator dings and the doors open. neither of you do. you stand there, taking each other in, cheeks warm and breathing heavy, as the doors slide close once again.
“yeah. yeah, she brought penelope,” he remarks, red ears hiding behind his slickened hair. your eyes focus on one particular lock that’s fallen over his forehead, nearly in his eye. a sense of longing pierces your heart like cupid’s arrow, you fall in love with him all over again.
“you should wear your hair curly more,” you croak. spencer is unphased at your sudden change of topic, and sends you a small smile.
you’re the only one on the team that’s seen him with his hair curly. you revel in it any time you’re lucky enough to get a glimpse, when you’re sharing a hotel room or his couch on movie night. a strange nostalgia seizes you as you take in his hair, not realizing how much you’ve missed it, missed him until you’re standing there, taking all of him in.
“maybe i’ll start,” he says back gently, another silence falling between the two of you.
“l-listen, i have something i need you to know,” he says, turning to face you, tone growing more confident as he speaks, “gideon told me to ask out j.j. because i’ve been heartbroken over you for weeks.”
time stops.
“heartbroken?” you’re incredulous. “why? what did i do?” you’re nearly panicking, racking your brain for what you could have done to your best friend.
“n-nothing really. i think i heard you talking to penelope about me one day, about how you don’t see me in that way,” he stutters a bit, his head turned down to hide his flushed cheeks, “i thought there was something between us, but after hearing that-i-i just assumed you didn’t feel the same. it made sense, girls like you don't typically go for guys like me.”
your heart cracks in your chest, “spencer,��� you whisper out, “don’t say that,” it’s all you can muster. he’s the most beautiful man on the planet. you’ve never been so sure of anything.
he rolls his eyes and you want to shake him until he believes it, “well, he gave me the tickets to try and put myself out there with someone else. j.j. is great, don’t get me wrong, but she’s not you. no one is,” he says, eyes boring into yours.
you take in every word falling from his lips, your brows marrying together. your brain is flying at a mile a minute trying to remember the conversation he’s talking about. suddenly, you stop. your gaze turns to him, eyes wide as the memory comes to you. it had to have been two months since then, but you knew that wasn’t a problem for spencer. if he overheard, he remembers every word out of your mouth.
you were chatting with penelope in the empty conference room. it was a monday, and you had gone out on a date the weekend before. he was the topic of conversation right before spencer came in, how he was ‘so cute’ with his ‘brown eyes and curly brown hair’, how he was ‘the perfect height- like 6’1-6’2’. and yet, you only liked him as a friend. the reality was, you were searching for spencer in every man you pursued, and none of them ever measured up to him. how could they?
“spencer,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands, “i went on a date that weekend. that’s who i was talking about. not you,” the last part comes out in a whisper as realization dawns on spencer’s face, uncertainty dancing through his big brown eyes.
“why didn’t you tell me you had a date?” he asks, puzzled, “is that why you couldn’t come over for movie night that weekend?”
your heart breaks even more, if that’s possible at this point, you wanted to be there. you wanted to be there so badly.
“i had convinced myself that it would never happen. you and me,” you start, and his eyes grow even wider than before, “i was looking for you every time. in every date. that’s why i never told you. it would never work out anyway, because they weren’t you. i wasn’t brave enough to admit that to myself until just now, i guess,” you grow a bit sheepish as you finish your explanation, your eyes glossy. your gaze finds the floor to avoid his piercing gaze. those eyes will kill you one day.
“what does that mean?” he says, so gentle, so spencer.
“it means i’m in love with you. i have been for years, since we started together,” you gush, tears finally falling over your lash line at your confession.
his eyes shut too, a gentle flutter of lashes against his cheek. you see a tear escape down his cheek, too.
“i love you, too. god, i love you too,” he whispers, moving immediately to scoop you up in his arms. he presses the elevator button again, finally getting you two out of there. he keeps you in his arms, carrying you into the elevator, refusing to let go as he squeezes you tight, legs wrapped around his waist as the doors close shut behind you.
as you descend, you reluctantly put your shaky legs on the floor, pulling away slightly to find his gaze.
“hi,” you whisper, biting your lip to try and suppress the cheesy smile taking over. you fail, grinning so wide and so bright, you’re afraid you might blind him.
“hi, beautiful,” he whispers back, brushing your hair back softly with his hand. he then cradles your jaw in his palm, pressing his soft lips against yours.
it’s a gentle kiss, but a passionate one. you both wish desperately to convey every single time you wanted each other, how long you’ve loved each other.
spencer pulls away from you for a brief moment to ask, “do you want to be my girlfriend? i think maybe we should try dating each other,” his sarcasm has you grinning from ear to ear.
“i think that’s the most genius idea you’ve had yet, doctor,” you lean in to kiss him again. he groans at the title, lips surrendering back into yours.
the ding of the elevator breaks your kiss, and you can’t hide your cheesy grins as you walk into the parking garage, your pinkies linked together.
“do you wanna come back to my apartment tonight? we can watch a movie?” spencer suggests nervously, like you’d say no. god, you love him.
“that sounds perfect,” you smile, pulling him in for another kiss. you can tell he’s expecting a light peck, but you deepen it, your hand finding the nape of his neck. your lips softly click together as you move against each other, your tongue just barely slipping into his mouth.
“see you at home,” you wink and get into your own car, leaving a flustered spencer reid in your wake.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#matthew gray gubler#mgg
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