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#back with my gruesome boy
ezzakennebba · 3 months
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17 year old experiences All of Human Thought on a Regular Basis
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navree · 8 months
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not even an elseworlds story about cthulhu is free of showing us the death of batman's parents oh my god
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blueseakelp · 1 year
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i know dreams aren’t real, but how am i supposed to come back from the way people are in them?
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lovebugism · 2 months
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hi! can i request shy/innocent reader who blushes at any sex talk, but one day she shows up covered in hickies that she didn’t notice and eddie, robin and the gang are grilling her trying to find out who shes with and steve’s just standing in the corner like🧍‍♂️
ty for requesting :D — the gang finds a hickey on you during movie night (shy!fem!r, fluff, 1.3k)
Slasher films, Eddie tells you, are just excuses to make the goriest, raunchiest movies known to man. But that’s why they’re so good! he exclaims like a giddy teenage boy before sliding the bulky VHS into the tape player. 
Your stomach’s been in knots about it since. You’re made of something more delicate than that — not particularly built for gruesome horror — but you swallow down your worrying anyway. 
Robin’s smacking on gummy worms at your feet, Eddie hasn’t stopped smiling since he sat down beside you, and Steve’s got one toned arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder. The combination of familiarity takes your mind off the whole thing when you threaten to scare yourself about it.
A half-hour in, and the scariest thing you’ve seen so far, is an overtly theatric sex scene. You only get a glimpse of the static nudity before a clammy, ringed hand splays itself over your eyes. It doesn’t save you from the high-pitched squealing and gruff moans, though, so you’re not entirely sure it’s doing much.
“What are you doing?” you ask Eddie through quiet giggles.
“This shit’s gross,” he answers, muffled through the candy in his cheek. “You don’t need to be watchin’ stuff like this.”
Your brows furrow beneath his palm. “I’m not a child, Eds.”
“Yeah, but you’re too pure! I wouldn’t feel right if I just let you watch it!”
Steve returns from the kitchen then, with a bowl of refilled popcorn in hand. He scoops a handful into his mouth and scolds through the mouthful. “Eddie. Leave her alone.”
The pale hand slips from your face when the scene ends — the climax sufficiently interrupted by a serial killing, chainsaw weilding psycho. The wild-haired boy scoffs. “Jeez! Sorry for trying to take care of your girlfriend, Harrington!”
“I do that on my own. I don’t need your help, freak,” Steve retorts, unthinking, before plopping down beside you and shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth. 
All three of you glance at him with unwavering stares. He blinks back at you for a moment until the realization hits him. Rolling his chocolate eyes, he grouses, “Not like that, you pervs.”
Eddie grins. “Oh, so it’s not like that, then?” he wonders in a teasing lilt. 
“Well,” Steve shrugs, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “I mean, obviously it is, but—”
“Steve…” you waver in an inaudible whine, shrinking back into the couch, hoping it’ll swallow you whole. 
The boy seems confused by your sudden sheepishness. He’s never been shy about anything in his life. “I’m just saying!” he chuckles. “I’m your boyfriend. I take care of you. That’s, like, my whole job… One that I do very well, might I add.”
Robin grumbles while Steve and Eddie laugh like a couple of teenage boys. She rises from her comfy spot on the carpet and reaches for your hand. She pulls you into the kitchen behind her and calls to them over her shoulder. “You guys are such freaks, you know that?”
——————
Tired and slightly tipsy, you stand with Steve on his back porch. A cigarette hangs loosely from his plush lips. His chiseled jaw tightens every time he takes a drag. The sight of him is impossible to look away from.
“You don’t think I take care of you?” he blurts before blowing smoke from his mouth. The wisps disappear beneath the starry velvet sky.
“Huh?”
“Earlier. When Eddie was making that stupid joke,” the boy explains, snuffing the cig out in the ashtray on the railing. He glances at you with sparkling honey eyes, half beneath his lashes, before turning away again. Almost shy. “I said it was my job to take care of you or whatever, and you just… Kinda grumbled about it. Like you don’t think I do or something.”
Your chest stings.
“Of course you do!” you answer sheepishly. “It’s just… hard for me to talk about, I guess. In front of Eddie and Robin and everything…”
“Oh,” he hums, nodding with his pink lips softly pouted. When the realization passes, he bites back a bashful beam. “So… you do think I take care of you, then?”
You roll your eyes, still impossibly shy. You know that he knows that answer now — he just wants to hear you say it. “Obviously…” you murmur with a quiet smile you try hard to keep hidden.
“Good,” he says to himself, nodding like he’s proud. “That’s good…”
You’re not sure how, but you end up squished between his body and the deck railing in record time. Steve kisses the breath from your lungs with lips tasting of nicotine, cola, and sour candy. His golden hands dig into your hips while his mouth trails to your jaw. 
You twist your hands in the strands of his silky chestnut hair as his plush lips lock with your thrumming pulse. A sigh spills from your mouth at the tingling feeling — warm and wet, then stinging for a moment. Steve runs his tongue over the bruise he left there. 
“Don’t leave a mark,” you scold in a slurred whine.
His chuckle fans across your neck before he parts from you. The lovebite is hardly noticeable now, just beginning to blossom beneath your jaw. “I think it might be a little too late for that, babe,” he teases with lidded eyes.
The backdoor slides open before Steve can kiss you again. Eddie stumbles out with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Robin nearly runs into the back of him when the boy stops suddenly in his tracks. His chocolate eyes flit between the two of you, now separated and trying to play it cool.
“…Are we interrupting something?” he murmurs through the stick in his mouth.
Steve shrugs and puts his hands on his hips, so not cool. “What? No. What are you— What are you even doing out here?”
The lighter clicks. “…Smoking?”
He glances at Robin, then. Her ocean eyes widen as she shrugs. “I just didn’t wanna be left out,” she murmurs in an answer to his silent question.
“Fair enough.”
Eddie squeezes between you and Steve, clumsy and unknowing. He glances at you innocently once, then again with suspicious, squinted eyes. “Is that a bruise?” he wonders before turning away to exhale the smoke from his lungs.
Your chest wrenches. “Huh?” you hum with pinched brows.
“You have a bruise on your neck,” he tells you, pointing a ringed finger to the blooming mark Steve left some minutes ago now. “What happened?”
He says it like he’s concerned. Like he’s worried something had happened to you. The possibility of it being a hickey doesn’t even cross his mind — ‘cause you’re just too pure for that. 
You shrug and start to stammer, somehow less cool than the overtly uncasual boy on Eddie’s other side. “I don’t know. It’s probably just... The lighting or something.”
His fluffy brows pinch together as his eyes dart over your face. You’re visibly flustered, lips softly swollen and shining with spit. He looks at Steve next and finds the boy looking much of the same. Only then does he realize what he’s interrupted.
“Eugh!” he groans in disgust, features screwed-up and puppylike.
Steve fights back a laugh. “What?!”
“You guys are a bunch of dirtbags!” Eddie shouts.
“It’s just a hickey, Eds,” the brunette boy says, chuckling before he can help it. “It’s okay. Calm down.”
“Absolutely harlot behavior. Both of you,” he chides, shaking his head until his wild curls sway around his jaw. While the rest of you laugh, he grumbles. “I don’t even feel like smoking now. You guys just ruined this cig for me.”
The three of you blink at him when he takes another drag. It takes him a moment too long to register the stares. When he does, he spreads his palms in defense and mumbles through the stick. “Well, I’m not gonna waste it!”
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eddiesxangel · 3 months
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The Kissing Booth | E.M x G!N!Reader
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Cw: flufffffff, mild angst on Eddie’s part. Smooching. Reader wears lipgloss. No use of pronouns.
Wc 1.4K
Eddie could not believe this was happening to him.
“Nope, nope, no way, man. Over my dead body-“
“What my boy means is he is grateful he is not being suspended and will graciously accept his punishment of volunteering at the school fair.” Wayne looks at his nephew with a glare in his eyes that Eddie hasn’t seen in a very long time.
“Great, then it’s settled,” Ms. Laughlin, the guidance councillor, smiles.
It was happening. Eddie was being served the most gruesome punishment, and all because he skipped P.E. of all classes.
Eddie Munson was being forced not only to participate in the school fair but to work the kissing booth, of all things.
How on earth would he survive this? Not only would he be the laughingstock of the school, but he would also have to endure the absolute embarrassment of having no one come up to his booth, and he would also have to be forced to participate in extracurricular activities.
“Just wait until Hellfire hears about this boy,” Wayne laughs as he drives him and Eddie back to the trailer.
All Eddie could do was roll his eyes; he could never show his face again.
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“You’re not going to believe the rumour I heard today.” Nancy looks at you from over her shoulder. She is sat at your vanity.
“What?” You asked, intrigued, as you got dressed and got ready for tonight’s festivities.
“A little birdy told me that a certain someone is working the kissing booth tonight.” She smirks.
“Who?” You challenge her back.
“Who, what?” Robin walks into the bedroom from the bathroom.
“Nancy knows who is working one of the kissing booths tonight, but who’s telling me” you pout.
“Ohhhhhhhh,” Robin smirks knowingly.
“Oh, not you, too! Come on, who is it!”
Robin and Nancy give one another a nod of the head before Nancy speaks.
“Eddie Munson.”
“Ha ha, very funny; you think I’m going to believe that? How gullible do you think I am?” You snort.
“No, it’s true! Shelly from the student council told me when we were working on the student paper! Instead of detention, this is his punishment, to help out at the fair tonight.” She wiggled her brows at you suggestively.
“Who else’s working it?” You try and ask casually.
Your friends knew about your crush on Eddie. It had been about a month since you confessed to one of your late-night sleepovers.
“Um, I’m not too sure what other guy, but I think Chrissy is working the girl's booth. Nancy shrugged.
“Cool…cool…” you turned to the closet, now faced with a sense of anxiety to find the perfect top.
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Eddie was actually dying on the inside. Ten minutes until his “shift” at the booth, and he wanted to book it.
Running away would solve his problems, right? He would much rather be suspended than have to endure this humiliation. This was a cruel and unusual punishment.
He watched from the sidelines as Josh was at the booth currently. He was the senior star quarterback on the football team. Everyone wanted him. He could just see now the long line disbursing once he stood there.
"Hey man, you're up next in 5." Eddie was snapped out of his internal monologue when he felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He wasn't sure how long he had been there stewing with his own thoughts. "Don't worry, it's not all bad. Some customers are cute," Josh smirks.
Oh god. What if he actually had to kiss someone tonight? He hadn’t thought of that option. Like, what if some actually came up? What would he do? Are they expecting tongue?
“You have some gum or something?” He asked quickly before Josh left.
He smirked and tossed him a pack of icy mint.
“Thanks.”
Eddie peaked around the corner to where the booth was set up. The fair was set up on the school football field. There was a small sign that said be back in 5 and no lineup to be seen.
That made Eddie feel a bit better; no one was there. That took some humility out of it.
Before Eddie could back out and run, he felt another hard hand on his shoulder.
“Come on, Munson, your time to shine.” Jeff and Gareth practically dragged Eddie to the booth, kicking and screaming.
“You’re the worst friends ever,” Eddie huffed as they backed away from the booth. Watching him so he won’t run away.
“You can't serve the time and shouldn’t do the crime.” Jeff laughed.
“That’s not-“ Eddie was cut off mid-sentence as he saw Robin and Nancy pushing you towards the booth just like he had been moments ago.
“Don’t make me do this,” you plead with your best friends.
“You have to do it,” “It’s now or never,” “He’s right there. Just have him your ticket and pucker your lisp. It’s not that hard,” Robin and Nancy whispered in your ear as they dragged you towards Eddie.
“You guys, please, I can’t!” You say a bit too loudly as you fight back your friends from pushing you up to the booth.
You can see the look on Eddie’s face as you are pushed up the step of the booth. He looks disappointed? Disgusted? You’re not too sure.
You let out an embarrassing squeal as you stumbled in front of Eddie. “Um hi”
Despite not being well-acquainted with Eddie, you couldn't help but notice him whenever he walked by. You only exchanged a few words in passing and learned about him through your friends. Although you never had the opportunity to spend time together, you found him to be irresistibly charming and incredibly good-looking. Whenever you caught a glimpse of him in the cafeteria, he never failed to bring a smile to your face with his silly antics and infectious laughter.
“Uh hey,” he spoke back, clearly uncomfortable.
“Busy night for you?” You ask, trying to delay the inevitable.
“Uh nope.”
“Good,” you smile; the thought of Eddie kissing anyone else made you want to vomit.
“Good?” He cocks a brow at you. “The thought of nobody wanting to come up to the freak of Hawkins High is good to you?”
“Oh I didn’t mean it like-“
“Why are you even here?”
“Oh- well- I um-"
“No, I get it. You’re just here on a dare, or you lost the bet, right? I really thought better of Nancy and Robin; I thought they were my friends… You know I heard you say you can’t do this. I understand the thought of kissing me is so terrible that-“
You couldn't help but cut off Eddei from his intrusive thoughts. You held his face with both hands and smushed your lips together. The thought of Eddie thinking that about you was far worse than the fear of kissing him.
It wasn't everything you had dreamed of. However, the kiss was still nice. You felt the eruption of butterflies fill your stomach as Eddie deepened this kiss himself. You kissed him until you could no longer breathe. Only then is when you pull away.
“Woah”
“I hope that was okay.” You shy away.
“Yeah.” Eddie sighed as he took you in.
As he gazed upon you, he was struck by how pretty you were, which he had overlooked until now. The sweet aroma of strawberries wafted from you as the strawberry lipgloss lingered on his lips, just below his nose.
“Um, here,” you jut out your hand with the crinkled ticket you hadn't yet paid with.
“Oh no, no, the house,” Eddie said without thinking and that made you giggle.
“Well, I really only bought a ticket for this, so I might as well cash it in.” you flirt.
“Ok, yeah, sure. Two for one.” Eddie took the ticket from your hand and brought it back to cup your cheek before kissing you again.
You could hear the giggles and cheers of your friends from behind you in the distance, but your main focus was on Eddie. His soft, plush lips. His minty taste, the way his soft hair tickled your cheeks.
“Ok, lovebirds, that’s enough.” the supervising teacher returned with an unimpressed huff.
You begrudgingly pulled away, but with a smile nonetheless.
“Can I get your number?” Eddie’s mouth was moving before his brain could catch up.
“Come find us later, lover boy.” Robin giggled while snatching your arm and pulled you away before you could answer.
“Dude!” Gareth clapped his hands, having witnessed the whole thing.
“Maybe we should sign up for this,” Jeff laughed. A little jealous of what he just witnessed.
After you, Eddie didn’t care if he got another customer for the rest of the night. Maybe this whole kissing booth thing wasn’t too bad after all.
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lunartulips · 3 months
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𝐴𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅 𝐴��� 𝐴 𝐵𝑂𝑌𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑁𝐷 { 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆 }
Very loving lover. To say the least. Probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him since he’s been in hell
Alastor would greet you in the morning with a big smile
“Good morning! It’s absolutely deadly in hell isn’t it?” Or if you walk in and see him eating then he’ll offer you a plate. Even if it’s a dead deer.
“You look well-rested, care for some deer?”
Since he’s the radio demon and feared by many he’ll make sure that you’re protected at all cost. Even bribing Husker to watch over you when he can’t, with booze of course
“Do take care of them I’ll be stepping out for a moment”
“Yeah yeah, got it now go”
Compliments I feel are a must. He’ll say compliments during the day or randomly. Smiling and looking straight at you when he does.
“My, don’t you look breathtaking today-!”
Flirting, probably would or won’t. When he does he’ll be a gentleman when he speaks. Holding your hand and adding a gentle kiss when he’s done, very like him. In a low tone voice to feel flirtatious
“My my, what a darling demon we have here~”
“Acting shy now? How adorable”
Alastor would be very protective and wouldn’t hesitate to tear a few limps off to protect you. Since he’s so gruesome with handling ‘enemies’ he’ll probably distract you from seeing such things with your own eyes. Or hold you close to his chest as he unleashed his wrath on another
“Hm? Oh don’t worry at all-! I’m simply ℒℰᎯᏉℐℕᎶ Ꭿ ℳℰЅЅᎯᎶℰ….”
“Don’t worry, how about some dinner hm? I’ll let you wait inside-!”
Very cute nicknames for you. Like darling, dearest, and honey. Alastor will call out to you using those names to find you, even in front of everyone, had no shame or embarrassment about it
Even outside of the hotel when he takes walks
“Ah-! There you are darling-!”
Oh boy….when this demon is jealous it’s every sinner for themselves. With you he’ll do his best to hold back so he wouldn’t scare or hurt you. Of course everyone else from the hotel will be staring and just watch. Charlie would probably try to calm him down before more heads roll. But Angel Dust would probably edge him on.
“Uh, Alastor? Please calm yourself please?”
“No! Keep going! So them who Y/N’s lover!”
There’ll be lots of blood and destruction when he’s jealous but of course he’ll won’t immediately go to violence when he’s jealous. Alastor can also stay close to you and place a protective hand either on your shoulder or around your waist. And would just give them eyes of death to the demon or person who dares talk to you in front of him
Dates would be very causal. Either meat dinners or hanging out with him listening to the radio
Love Language would be Quality time <3
Walks around the city in the wrath ring or joining him in his recoding studio when he’s on the air. When you work in the Hazbin Hotel he’ll pop in to checkup on you. And, when needed, he’ll help you in any way he can. He’ll make sure that you to have lots of time together both during work hours and when you clock out.
“You look like your struggling with this, allow me my dear-!”
Holding hands will be included with this relationship, along with him smiling a lot both at you and in general. Like the gentlemen he is he’ll make sure that your smiling with him.
“You’re never fully dressed without a smile~”
Alastor would be a very interesting demon to date with. Protective and old fashioned. Always smiling and would hum songs to you when you’re stress
Not only that. He’ll make sure you will avoid the three V’s/Vees. Especially Vox. If that does happen or you accidentally cross paths make sure you have a pair of sunglasses and stay behind a strong building before things get very ugly well quick unless you want to see such horrific scenes
But if that doesn’t happen then all things should be float
𝐴𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅 𝐴𝑆 𝐴 𝐵𝑂𝑌𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑁𝐷 { 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆 }
written by Lunartulips ☾ & ✿
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fandom-go-round · 4 months
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bg3 companions + their reactions to finding out they knocked up fem tav? 👀 (for the ladies we can say they're trans or it's magic)
I wrote my boy first because he’s the best, can you guess who it is? Hint: He’s my first romance. No guess for you lovely requestor because you know too much LOL
Also I’m ignoring cannon endings here because we want to end up happy with babies. No angst here, begone!
Warnings: Implied Sex, Implied Sexual Situations, Pregnant Tav, Babies, Pregnancy Thing (Morning Sickness)
Astarion:
At first, he thinks that you’re joking. Vampires can’t have children after all, that’s a pretty basic fact. When you’re insistent, part of him wants to accuse you of cheating, as much as it pains him. That’s a part of him still tainted by Cazador and he muffles it as best he can. Astarion is going to insist you go to a healer together; if you’re not pregnant, something must be going on you need help with. When Shadowheart confirms you’re with child, he’s at a loss. Astarion doesn’t know what to say, truly.
After the initial shock, he goes on the hunt for anything and everything about human-vampire babies. The records are hard to find and some are locked far, far away but he finds them all. He can be very persuasive after all. It’s in one of these books that he figures out how you two made a baby; he’s going to be very careful taking your blood from now on. Speaking of, Astarion will refuse to drink from you while you pregnant, no ifs ands or buts. This is a firm boundary for him, even if you smell more and more delicious the farther along you get.
The pregnancy is hard and Astarion is afraid he’s going to lose you. The birth is especially gruesome and it’s only because of Shadowheart and Halsin that you’re alive. He wants to resent the baby for how you suffered but he can’t, they’re just too perfect. He’s afraid of getting too close, of tainting this little thing but you refuse to let him be apart. The first time he holds your child he weeps and it’s over. Astarion is always going to struggle with his emotions and feelings about being a father but never about how much he loves them. Also, he’s completely in charge of their wardrobe; you’re going to have the best-looking baby in the entire city hands down.
Gale:
Gale was always on the fence about kids. Sure they’re cute but they’re also loud and he struggles to take care of himself, let alone a little squishy creature. That doesn’t mean he’s upset when you tell him you’re pregnant, not at all. He’s just doing furious calculations in his mind and it looks like he’s crashed. Give his brain a moment to reset and he’ll give you a large grin and lean down to kiss you. Tara is the first person the two of you tell and she’s excited, vowing to be the baby’s protector. Gale loves her even more which is quite the feat. His mother is next and she immediately starts offering help. He just can’t get over how perfect his family is, it feels like a dream sometimes. 
He takes a very technical approach to your pregnancy, like everything. Gale is reading all of the baby books and using all of the tracking charts he can get his hands on. He even goes to talk to midwives, wanting an expert opinion. It’s very sweet of him but you have to remind him that all babies grow at their own pace. He just wants to be the best dad he can and for him, that means more information. It is funny to watch him change a diaper for the first time but he never backs down from a challenge! Maybe he can use magic…?
He’s a mess when you actually go into labor. Gale swore he would be with you the entire time and then passed out in the final moments. He wakes up to a healthy baby and immediately starts crying. He enjoys being a dad, especially teaching your child new things. Your kid is going to have a huge curious streak that Gale will feed with vigor. He doesn’t consciously want your kid to be a wizard but would be overjoyed to have more in common with them.
Wyll:
Wyll is over the moon, as surprised as he is. Kids are something that he’s always wanted to have eventually and with you, his favorite person? What could go wrong? Of course, he’ll hear out your concerns if you have any and can have difficult conversations around pregnancy and child birth. One benefit of being a noble is that he has resources to help; whatever you want will be yours. He’s nervous to tell his dad but once the older man starts to tear up, he knows that he’s made a good choice. Wyll wants his family to be whole and happy.
He’s a chronic hoverer, as cute and frustrating as that is. Even in the early stages of pregnancy Wyll will try to do everything for you; moving a trunk? He’s got that, don’t strain yourself. Trying to cook dinner? Let him help you love. Be firm that you can do things yourself and he’ll back off. Just know that when you turn to ask him for help he’ll be waiting in the wings to be your hero. He’s also a pro at helping you figure out cravings. Wyll won’t complain if you wake him up in the middle of the night to go get something from the kitchen. He loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and rocking together; you being in his arms is his favorite thing.
He’s a trooper during the birth, being there the entire time. It takes a long time and he does worry but he encourages you and is your personal cheerleader. He can’t stop smiling after the baby is born, tracing their cheeks and forehead. As much as it would be funny to say Wyll struggles with being a dad, he really doesn’t. He loves your child so much, you’re surprised he never brought up kids in the first place. He is very much the definition of doting father but don’t let that fool you, he takes no disrespect, especially towards you. You’re the ruler of the house and Wyll is your backup. He’s the perfect mix of fun and strict dad. Now if he can convince you to have others…
Karlach:
Karlach is over the moon when you find our you’re pregnant. She had noticed you felt off and encouraged you to go to the doctor. Neither of you were expecting the baby news, as silly as it sounds. That doesn’t stop her form immediately lifting you up with a loud ‘whoop!’ and spinning your around the room. She loves babies! She loves you! This is going to be great.
She insists on redoing a room just for the baby. Even if their crib is going to be in your room for the first few months, Karlach wants your kid to have their own space. She paints the walls, builds all the furniture, everything. She asks for you opinion on decorations and doesn’t do anything without checking with you first but it’s her labor of love. It’s also her project for when she gets anxious thinking about the future. What is something goes wrong with her heart? What if something is wrong with the baby? What is the birth is too much for you? All of these thoughts get washed away in making the baby’s room perfect and then she goes to talk to you.
Karlach helps as much as she can during the birth aka you kick her (lovingly) into the hall to go grab towels so she stops hovering. When she gets back the baby is almost here and there’s no time to panic, just watch with wide eyes. She thinks you’re even more of a badass for going through all that and asks to hold the baby fist. Karlach cries holding them; they’re so cute and small and they’re the perfect mix of the two of you. She’s defiantly going to be the fun mom and there will be moments where it feels like you have two kids to scold. She takes safety very seriously, however, and is the first to lecture about stranger danger. Your kid will never feel unloved or unsafe, Karlach swears it on her life. This is her family now and no one else can have them.
Lae’zel:
Lae’zel struggles with the news that you’re having a baby. Partly because she never thought that she could have kids and the other part because she’s terrified about being a mom. She wasn’t raised in a traditional Faerunian way; no where on the continent can be compared to being raised Gith. She needs time to process on her own and it’ll be a few days before she comes back ready to talk. Take her concerns seriously and, if you truly want to keep the baby, she’ll raise them with you. She loves you after all.
It takes her a bit to understand all the changes your body is going through. It’s horrifying and amazing to watch your stomach swell and she loves gently cradling your bump as it grows. She doesn’t know what to do about the crying, except when someone else makes you cry. Then it’s easy: she wants to kill them. That usually makes you laugh and you’re able to talk her out of bodily harm. You do have some nice shop discounts now. Lae’el is very much your guard dog and she fulfills her position with pride.
The entire birthing process just shows Lae’zel that you’re the strongest person she knows. She’s completely impressed by how you handle everything and has a new respect for moms everywhere. She still thinks it’s gross and inefficient but badass all the same. Lae’zel is a strict mom but soft in her own way. She’s still learning to be kind to herself and the world around her. Your child will never feel the brunt of her frustration or confusion; they will, however, be able to swing a sword much too young. She beams with pride the first time your child beheads a training dummy and you know, deep deep down, that the two of them going to be trouble.
Shadowheart:
She starts to notice the signs before you do, honestly. At first it’s little things; you’re tired quicker, you’re more sensitive to certain smells. The big one is that you start to get morning sickness, frequently. Shadowheart finally sits you down after the fifth morning in a row over a bucket and checks you over. You’re pregnant all right, not doubt there. She’s going to be as surprised as you; you were both good about protection. Surprise baby!
She’s fairly neutral about kids. She never thought that she would have any, serving Shar, but now there’s a little more appeal to them. The pooping and crying she could live without but the idea of there being someone made up of the two of you? Shadowheart likes the idea more than she would admit out loud. She starts researching pregnancy healing the midwifery right away; she doesn’t have a lot of expertise with babies but she is a healer.
Shadowheart insists on delivering your baby herself. She wants to be a part of this and while you’re going to be doing the hard part, she wants to support you. If you have an issue, she will relent but has to be in the room. Your delivery is flawless and as she holds the bloody baby in her hands, she feels full. Of love and hope and excitement, all those emotions she once would have sworn off. For the first time since you’ve found out you’re pregnant, she’s excited to be a mom. She’s a strict but loving mom, teasing her kid and embarrassing them in public (just a little, like a cheek pinch). Shadowheart loves singing to your kids, something neither of you knew until now. Your house is full of love and laughter and singing, just perfect.
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pokimoko · 1 year
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hiya! i'm running a dnd session and i really love the way you wrote Mr Masters in your fic! may i use him as a villain in my campaign?
Oh hell yeah you can! That guy was an absolute bastard who'd be right at home as a DnD villain. Have fun with the campaign! :D
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forhappysake · 4 months
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Teach Me
A/N: This is my first smut and it is LONG. Sorry y'all, I love a plot. Also, not totally proofread, xoxo.
Warnings: SMUT, professor!reidxreader, implied age gap, mentions of dementia, loss of virginity, bl0wjob, protected sex, use of nicknames (good girl), sub!reader/dom!spencer if you squint
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The fact that you’d managed to get into Dr. Reid’s criminology class was an absolute stroke of luck on your part. You’d stayed up until midnight, eagerly waiting for your round of registration to unlock, and you’d immediately submitted your requests and refreshed the page until you got confirmation. You were elated. You had read so much about the young doctor, only in his mid-30s, who had multiple doctorates and over a decade of FBI experience. You were fully aware that taking his class would elevate your resume, not to mention that he was quite easy on the eyes.
Of course, that last part was just the consensus around campus. He polled “hottest professor” on social media every year since he’d arrived. You stared at his professor profile on the university’s website. The picture was undoubtedly a couple of years old, with brown curls atop his head and a cleanly shaven face. However, you’d heard from lots of the older majors that he’d aged like fine wine. With that in mind, you shut your computer before crawling into bed for the night. This semester can not end fast enough, you thought. 
*Seven weeks later*
Returning from Christmas break was never easy, but knowing you were going into Dr. Reid’s class made things that much easier. It was your last class of the day, from 3:00 - 4:15, and you knew you’d soak up every minute of it. Though after surviving two other earlier classes and multiple rounds of icebreakers with your new classmates, you were starting to lose your initial excitement at what Dr. Reid’s course may hold.
You walked into the lecture hall, noting an empty seat about three rows from the front. Claiming the seat as your own, you pulled out your new notebook and a red pen, scribbling the date and course number at the top of your page. You checked your watch: 2:58. You couldn’t help but tap your foot impatiently as your fellow students filtered into the room.
After a few more moments passed, the side door in the lecture hall opened, and Dr. Reid walked out in front of the room. He didn’t look up at the students, whose murmuring had gone silent the moment he entered. Instead, he turned his back to the group as he wrote his name and the course number on the whiteboard. 
He turned back around, this time scanning the students in the hall before clearing his throat. “Good afternoon, my name is Dr. Reid. I’ll be your professor for this course.” He paced around for a moment before coming to a stop and leaning himself back onto the desk. He looked a bit different from his faculty picture. His brown hair had grown out, allowing you to see more of his curls. His once clean-shaven face had evolved into stubble, and the rings around his eyes looked a bit darker. However, you couldn’t argue, he had aged well. 
“First thing’s first, the university requires that I take roll call for the first three weeks of the course.” You waited for him to fumble around on the computer or take up a piece of paper with all of your names on it. Surprisingly, Dr. Reid began calling out names from memory without picking up a roster. “Riley Anderson?” 
“Here,” a light-haired boy in the back of the class said, waving his hand. 
The back and forth of Dr. Reid calling names and students replying went on for another minute before he came to your name, “Y/N Y/L/N?”
You raised your hand and offered a small smile, “Here.” He looked up at you and smiled back. As you looked away, you could feel his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he cleared his throat and continued, making quick work of the rest of the roll call before starting the course. 
The first day’s lecture was relatively tame. Nothing too gruesome was discussed, and thankfully the young doctor didn’t make you play any more icebreaker games. Upon class dismissal, a large line of students eager to make nice with their new professor lined up at his desk. Though you had hoped to meet the doctor personally, you didn’t want to wait around after being on campus all day. You quickly gathered your books and shoved them in your backpack before walking up the stairs and leaving the lecture hall. 
As with all semesters, the work began to pile on quickly as you did your best to keep up. Most of your classes began to blend together. However, Dr. Reid’s class was always your first priority. There was something about him that made you feel the urge to make him proud of your work. Maybe it was the way he’d smile thoughtfully as you asked him questions during the lecture or the time he’d made extra office hours for you when you needed help with a paper. It could have even been the morning you’d bumped into him in the campus coffee shop and he’d paid for your drink. As you pondered this, laying in bed the night before your midterm, you couldn’t help but feel a little silly. He did these things for all his students, right? You did your best to quiet your thoughts before forcing yourself to sleep the night before your exam. 
The next morning, you walked through campus with a certain confidence in your step. Though you had never been a great test-taker, you were confident that you were going to do well on Dr. Reid’s midterm. He’d even been so kind as to offer you a study guide, which you had been working through over the last week. You were prepared, but as you approached the lecture hall, you could see that your classmates weren’t feeling so confident. 
A young boy sat by the door, frantically scanning his handwritten notes in a last-minute attempt to memorise information. Several others followed suit.
Dr. Reid came around the corner, exams in hand. “Good morning, Y/N,” he said with a bright smile. “Are you ready for the exam?”
“Born ready, Doc,” you joked, following him into the lecture hall and settling into your seat. Dr. Reid passed out the exams. Just as you suspected, you finished without a hitch. You dropped the paper on his desk and he offered you a small smile as you turned and left the lecture hall. 
You made your way to the library to study for your fifth and final midterm. You chose your typical spot in the corner of the room, hidden behind a large bookshelf. As you settled into study, you put your headphones in. As you dove into your reading, you became oblivious to the world around you. An hour passed, and it was only when you felt a tap on your shoulder that you were pulled from your work. 
You turned to face whoever had tapped you, and you failed to hide your surprise when you were met with the dark eyes of Dr. Reid. “Oh, hey!” you said, trying to be casual as you paused your music and took your headphones off. “What are you doing here?”
He looked down at you from his standing position, offering an awkward shrug. “I’m not sure, really. I guess I just thought I might find you here.” 
You furrowed your brow. “Is something wrong? Did I mess up on the exam?” 
Dr. Reid shook his head, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Goodness, no. You did wonderful. The grade is already in, actually.” “Oh,” you mumbled, smiling a little at his compliment. “Well then, what’s up?”
He stumbled around for a second, working up the confidence to utter his next sentence. “I was wondering if you were free tonight.” 
Your eyebrows raised and you felt your jaw drop a little. Was this happening? “Uh… f-for what?” you asked, trying not to get your hopes up. 
He pulled his hands from his pockets, fiddling with his tie as he shook his head. “Ah, you know, this was silly of me. I should go,” he turned to turn from you, but you reached out and grabbed his hand before he could walk away. 
“For what?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment. You locked eyes with him, trying to read his expression.
He stood up a little straighter, your obvious interest seemingly bolstering his confidence. “I’ve been working on an article for a journal publication here at the university. I was wondering if you’d be willing to look it over for me,” he said. There was silence for a moment before he added, “I will also be cooking a new pasta recipe I found, and I would like it if you would stay for dinner after that.”
You felt a small smile creeping on your face, but you tried to contain your excitement. However, you could tell from the blush growing on his cheeks that he noticed. “I would love to do that, Dr. Reid. If you could send the address to my personal email, I would be more than happy to be there in-” you looked down at your watch, “roughly an hour.” 
A smile spread over his face, “Great. I’ll do that right away.” He looked around the library for a moment before he seemed to realize where he was, snapping back to reality. “Right, well, I’d better go straighten up my place a bit. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.” With that, Dr. Reid turned from you and headed for the library door. He glanced back at you once, the blush on his cheeks evident as he walked out onto the quad. 
After Dr. Reid’s departure from the library, you quickly gathered your things and rushed to the parking lot, making quick work of the drive back to your apartment. You jumped in the shower and rinsed the day off yourself before drying off and standing in front of your closet. 
You examined your clothing choices. This wasn’t a date, was it? Maybe you should go with business casual… or should you choose something a bit more scandalous? Scandalous seemed to be the winning choice. If anything, you could lie and tell him you were going out after leaving his place. He wouldn’t think anything of it, right?
You settled on a shorter black dress that had a low-cut top. It exposed the tops of your breasts in a way that wasn’t wildly distasteful but wasn’t too subtle, either. You decided to skip on the underwear for the evening, the idea of being exposed underneath your dress enough to excite you. You’d never been with a man before, and you figured tonight wouldn’t necessarily be any different. You might as well have some secret fun of your own. 
Checking your watch, you realized you were running short on time. You dashed back out the door to your car. Checking your phone, you saw he’d emailed you as he promised: 
From: Spencer Reid Here’s the address you asked for, along with my apartment number. I look forward to seeing you soon.  -S.R.
You couldn’t help but smile as you entered the address into your car’s GPS before taking off. The fifteen-minute drive felt like an hour as you tried not to let yourself get too nervous. You entered the lobby of his apartment building, catching the elevator to the fourth floor. 
“Apartment 424,” you mumbled to yourself as you stepped off and walked down the aesthetically lit hallway. The carpeted floor was pristine, and the view from the window at the end of the hallway told you that living in this building was not cheap. You shook the thoughts from your head as you reached the last apartment in the hallway, closest to the window. This is it, you thought, don’t fuck it up. 
You knocked twice and stopped to listen for any motion on the inside. You swore you could hear the soft lull of classical music from behind the door, and you suddenly heard footsteps fast approaching. The dark wooden door swung open, unveiling the wild curls of Dr. Reid. “Y/N!” he said, a smile spread wide across his face, “I’m so glad you’re here. Please, come in.” He stepped back from the door, ushering you into the room. 
“Thank you, Dr. Reid.” You stepped inside, examining the room around you. It fit his personality wonderfully. The green paint on the walls was accented by large bookshelves and dark furniture. You smiled when you noticed the lack of a television and instead, a record player sat in front of the sofa. “You have a lovely apartment, Dr. Reid,” you whispered, in awe of the way his personality was infused into the design of the place. 
He furrowed his brow at you, tucking his large hands into his pants pockets once more. He must be nervous. “I appreciate that. But please, call me Spencer.”
“Spencer,” you said, testing how the name felt in your mouth. “I can do that.” He smiled at you before gesturing to the couch, offering you a place to sit. You followed his lead, sitting on the far end of the couch as he perched in the middle. You felt him watching you closely, so you turned to look at him. 
Spencer noticed that you’d caught him staring, so he cleared his throat to diffuse the awkward silence that had fallen over the room. “Here’s that piece I’ve been working on, if you’d still like to look over it.” He leafed through some files on the table before pulling out a thick stack of papers, held together by a large paperclip. 
You took the article from him. “Twenty-seven pages front and back? That’s quite the article, Spencer,” you joked, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 
He blushed sheepishly. “You don’t have to read it all if you don’t want to. I just thought that-” 
You waved your hand, cutting him off. “Of course, I am going to read it all. I’ll get started right away if you want to go work on something else.”
“Actually, I think I’m going to start that recipe I mentioned if you’re still interested in dinner,” he rose from the couch, watching for a sign of your approval. 
You looked away from the papers to smile up at him, “Certainly, thank you.”
As he walked away, you continued scanning the papers he had given you. You weren’t sure why he wanted you to review it, you could find no issues. You let out an audible sigh, which Spencer heard from the kitchen. 
“Are you doing okay?” he asked. 
“Oh, yes! I’m not sure why you wanted me to look over this. It’s flawless,” you said, sounding almost disappointed. 
“I would take that as a compliment if you didn’t sound so let down,” he said jokingly, a nervous tinge in his voice. 
You shook your head, “I feel that I wasn’t much help.” 
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been a great help on this project. In fact, the questions you asked about the behavior of female abusers in class were what got me thinking about this in the first place.”
A blush spread over your face, “Really?”
He smiled, trying not to make it too obvious that he noticed the blush on your cheeks. “Really. You’re easily my best student. Your drive is unmatched, and your work is some of the best undergraduate writing I have ever seen. You should consider graduate school if you aren’t already.”
I shrugged at his words. “I’m trying not to get ahead of myself. We’ll see where life takes me, I reckon.” Spencer nodded before padding back to the kitchen, checking whatever he had put together in the oven. Almost on cue, a kitchen timer dinged, letting him know creation was complete. 
He pulled an oven mitt onto his large hand and pulled the dish out of the oven, setting it carefully on the stovetop before he turned back to you. “If you’d like to come sit at the kitchen table, I’d be happy to serve you.” You did as he requested, picking one of the two seats set at the table. Two glasses of wine were readily poured and thick, black cloth napkins were placed at each chair. You spread the fabric over your lap, noticing the careful vines embroidered along the trim. 
“Are these hand-embroidered?” you asked. 
Spencer nodded, “My mother used to live with me. She enjoys doing that sort of thing. I came back one day and she’d done these floral patterns around the edges.” He held up his cloth, gently tracing his finger along the vines and flowers. 
Despite your evident interest in her handiwork, you couldn’t help but wonder about his mother. “Your mother used to live with you?” you asked. “Where is she now?”
Spencer sighed as he looked down, gently laying his cloth across his lap as you had done moments before. “She stays in a nursing facility where they can give her the attention and care she needs. Between working at the university and consulting on cases for the Bureau, I wasn’t doing enough.” As he looked up at you again, you could hear the implication of his final statement: I wasn’t enough. 
You reached for the hand he’d placed back on the table, gently covering it with your own. “I’m sure you did everything you could for her. I’m certain she knows how much you care for her.” 
He offered you a sad smile, turning his hand up under yours and gently wrapping his fingers around your hand. “Thank you, Y/N.” Spencer trailed off, seeming to zone out for a minute as his eyes glazed over. You gently pulled your hand away from him, bringing him back to reality. 
“Well, uh,” he cleared his throat, rising from the table. “We can’t have dinner without the food, how silly of me.” Spencer gently picked up the dish from the counter, setting it on the table in front of you. You examined the dish of pasta. “May I?” Spencer asked, scooping up a healthy spoonful. 
“Sure, thank you,” you picked up your plate, offering it to him. He placed a large helping of food on your plate along with a piece of bread before passing it back to you. You waited for him to serve himself and get reseated before you took a bite. “Oh my god,” you mumbled. 
Spencer’s eyes shot up from his plate as he dropped his fork on his placemat. “What’s the matter?”
You shook your head, eyes wide in amazement. “This pasta is incredible. Where did you find this recipe?” 
Spencer’s shoulders relaxed and he let out a small laugh of relief. “Oh, I got it from a coworker. He’s a true Italian – cooks this sort of thing all the time.” 
You lifted the glass of wine he’d set out for you earlier. “Cheers to this mysterious coworker and your ability to replicate authentic Italian cuisine.”
He mirrored your movements, and your glasses gently clinked together. You locked eyes with him as you both took sips of your drinks. Something about the moment was wildly intimate and laced with flirtation. 
You forced yourself to look away, examining the cloth on your lap. “So, uh,” you stuttered, “are you looking forward to the end of the semester?”
Spencer took a bite of his pasta, mulling this over for moment. “Well,” he started, “yes and no. How about you?” He looked you over. You wondered if he was trying to profile you based on his careful examination of your body language and facial expressions. 
You chose to shrug, “Yes and no.”
“Why’s that?” he asked. 
“Oh, I’m not sure. There are some classes I’ll miss. Yours, of course.” 
He smiled shyly, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. I love your class, but it’s really more than that,” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact as you fiddled with the hem of your dress. 
He quietly rose from the table and approached your side, looking down at you carefully. “Tell me,” he whispered. He leaned down to you, putting a hand under your chin and forcing you to look at him. He placed his large hands on either side of your face, as one of his thumbs gently caressed your cheekbone. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he whispered. His dark eyes scanned your own. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong and we can forget this. We’ll never talk about this again.” 
You swallowed nervously. “You’re not reading this wrong,” you answered quietly. You brought one of your hands up to cover one resting on your face. 
You rose from your seat and he followed suit. He stood several inches taller than you, adding to the strange power dynamic between the two of you. 
He lowered his hands, running them over your shoulders and down your arms until he slipped his hands around your hips, holding you in place in front of him as he looked at you. You could see the way he held himself back from you. He was trying to decide just how far he should go. 
You sighed and reached for him. “I’m not made of glass, you know,” you whispered jokingly, hanging your arms loosely from his neck to pull him a bit closer to you. He complied, leaning over you silently as your words hung in the air between you. 
“This entire situation is delicate,” he said in a serious tone. “I just don’t want to overstep.” 
“Spencer,” you laughed. “I’m standing in your apartment, calling you by your first name. Your hands are wrapped around my hips. I’m hanging off your neck. Don’t you think we’ve already overstepped?” 
He considered this for a second, looking around the room. “I suppose. What are you thinking?” he asked genuinely, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. 
“I’m thinking,” you said, pressing your body against his, “that I would love to push some more boundaries with you.” 
As much as he tried to deny it, he found himself giving in to you. Spencer closed his eyes, letting the scent of your perfume flood his senses. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he whispered. 
“Tell me,” you pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. He leaned back, allowing you full access.
“Fuck-” he murmured, “I noticed you from the beginning. You…” His words trailed off into a groan as you gently sucked on his neck. He ran a hand down your body, pressing you against him with a large hand on the small of your back. “You’re always so attentive, so eager to learn.”
You hummed in agreement, continuing to trail your lips up and down his neck. “Is there anything else you can teach me?” you whispered dangerously close to his ear. 
He pulled away, placing a gentle hand around your waist, guiding you into the hallway of his apartment. “Where are we going?” you asked. 
“My bedroom,” he said. His hand tightened around your waist as he reached for the door. 
The two of you stumbled inside, unable to keep your hands off each other. You found yourself falling backwards on his bed as he leaned over you, catching your lips in a kiss once again. You ran your hands through his soft curls and thought of all the times you’d berated yourself for imagining this exact moment. This couldn’t be happening. 
“I’m not going to go easy on you,” he mumbled against your lips. You felt a tinge of anxiety. Was now the time to tell him you really had no idea what you’re doing? He ran his hands up the back of your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress and revealing your lack of underwear to him. “No underwear?” he asked, smile evident on his lips as he leaned over you, leaving your back pressing against his clothed chest. 
You blushed, trying not to let on that you’d secretly been praying for this to happen all evening. Of course, Spencer already knew that. You were putty in his hands. 
He lifted himself off of you, and you rolled over to face him as he stood over you. “Stand up,” he said. You did as you were told, rising in front of him. You stayed still as he circled you a moment, almost as if you were some kind of prey. Spencer found the zipper to your dress. He rested his hand on it for a moment, leaning forward to offer you a soft kiss on the cheek. You took it as his way of asking for your consent, so you nodded, to which he immediately began unzipping the back of your dress. 
The black material fell from your shoulders and soon laid limply at your feet. Spencer let out a quiet moan as he turned you around to face him. You were completely bare before him. “My god, Y/N,” he mumbled. 
His lips attacked yours as he pushed you back on to the bed, your dress forgotten on the floor as his hands explored your body. He placed both his hands around your breasts, squeezing them gently as he began kissing down your neck. Spencer’s descent down your body continued with the utmost purpose, as you saw him lowering himself off the bed and down on to his knees in front of you. 
“W-what are you doing?” you asked nervously. 
Spencer looked up from your body to meet your eyes. “I want to taste you,” he said, matter of factly. 
As hot as the statement was, you couldn’t overcome the insecurity and anxiety that had seeped into your mind. In one flash, the confession fell from your lips. “I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, voice barely audible. 
Spencer stopped immediately, completely removing his gaze from your naked figure to focus on your face. He rose from his knees and sat himself on the edge of his bed. “You’ve never had sex before?” Spencer asked gently, looking you in the eyes the entire time. 
You nodded, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable in front of him. “I probably should have disclosed that sooner. I’m sorry, I know it’s a major turn off,” you started to sit up, reaching for your dress on the floor. As you did, Spencer grabbed your wrist, forcing you to stop and look at him. 
“Quite the opposite, actually,” he said. 
You furrowed your brow at him. “Really?” 
He cupped your face with his hands, gently tracing the edge of your jaw with his thumbs. “I know our situation isn’t the most conventional, but if you let me, I promise I’ll take care of you.”
You bit your lip in anticipation. “Okay,” you nodded. 
“Okay,” he whispered. “I want you to lay back for me, and I’ll make you feel good.”
You couldn’t help but trust him as you laid back on to the bed. He dropped to his knees once more, running his hands over your thighs before pulling them apart, exposing you to him. Spencer lunged forward, licking an experimental stripe up your slit to gauge your reaction. You’d never felt anything like it before, and you couldn’t help but moan as he continued his movements, focusing his attention on your clit. 
“Spencer,” you groaned. Your hand found its way to his mess of curls, tugging sharply. He moaned into your center, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge. “I-I’m close,” you whined, continuing to hold the back of his head. 
You heard him speak from between your legs, “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.” Spencer dove back into your core, wrapping his lips around your clit. 
A sudden intrusion caused your legs to jerk, and you realized he’d inserted a finger into you. The mixture of the wonderful pressure he was placing on your bundle of nerves and the new sensation of his finger thrusting inside you sent you over the edge. You came hard, loosing your grip on the back of his head as you did. 
Spencer remained on his knees, lapping up what he could of you release before he rose to meet you on the bed. “You’re such a good girl,” he said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as he laid next to you. 
You hummed in satisfaction, forcing yourself to open your eyes. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face. You couldn’t help but notice the sinful amount of clothes that were still on his body. You expressed this by tugging gently on his tie, “Why am I the only one who’s naked?” 
Spencer chuckled. “We can fix that,” he said, rising from the bed. He made quick work of his tie, and undid the buttons on his dress shirt as you watched in awe. As Spencer shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, you took in his physique. Though thin and tall, his muscles were pronounced. You noted a few scars scattered about his figure, and wondered if you could get him to tell the stories behind them. His voice brought you out of  your thoughts. “You’re staring,” he said as he slowly undid his belt. 
You shrugged from your position on the bed, “I like what I see.” 
He let out a quiet laugh as he discarded his belt on the floor next to the bed, the hard leather hitting the floor with a loud thunk. Spencer peeled his pants off his legs, neatly folding them and setting them on a dresser next to the door. You couldn’t help but notice the large tent in his boxers, and found yourself wondering what exactly he was hiding under there. 
Before you could stop yourself, you slid off the bed and stood in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at you, indicating his confusion as you dropped to your knees in front of him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he said with a tinge of humor in his voice. 
“Returning the favor,” you said shyly, not wanting to meet his gaze. 
A large hand came to rest gently on your head as he ran his fingers through your hair, “You don’t have to do this, you know. This is about you.”
You shook your head, finally mustering up the courage to look up at him. “I want to. I want you to teach me,” you whispered. 
That statement was enough to bring an end to his objections. Spencer smiled down at you with a sigh, “Pretty girl. Go ahead.” You smiled happily at the compliment and the permission to continue. You placed a few simple kissed above the hem of his boxers before locking your fingers under the seam and pulling them down completely. Spencer assisted by stepping out of his boxers, and he stood completely bare in front of you. You stared at his figure once more, eyes wide at the sight of him. His length was intimidating, especially for someone as inexperienced as yourself. You were unsure of how to proceed. 
Spencer leant down quietly and took your hand from his thigh, moving it to wrap around the base of his cock. “Now, just move your hand back and forth until you find a rhythm,” he encouraged. Like a student eager to please, you followed his instructions. After a moment he spoke again, “You’re doing so good, pretty girl.” 
You weren’t sure if it was your need to praise him or the flash of unadulterated lust you felt at that moment, but you leaned forward and slid the tip of his dick into your mouth. Spencer looked down at you through hooded eyes, the silent act urging you to continue. You opened your throat the best you could, sliding him further into your mouth until you couldn’t anymore. You wrapped your hand around the rest of him and, in time with the bobs of your head, stroked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 
“Y/N,” Spencer groaned from above, placing an encouraging hand on the back of your head. He held your hair tightly. “Relax, baby,” he murmured. You slowed your movements so that he could fuck your throat at his own pace. You could tell he was holding himself back for your sake, and your heart swelled at how gentle he was trying to be during such a filthy act. 
You closed your eyes, becoming accustomed to the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat, timing your breaths to the thrust of his hips. Suddenly, you felt the hold on the back of your head let up as Spencer pulled completely out of your mouth. “I’d love to keep doing that,” he said, out of breath, “but there are other places I’d like to finish tonight.” 
You blushed at the implication of his words. He reached a hand out to you, helping you stand up from the ground and pulling you into a passionate kiss. Spencer’s tongue entered your mouth as he moaned into the kiss, hands exploring your figure as he pushed you back towards the bed. You let yourself fall, the soft mattress greeting you as Spencer continued kissing you. 
He reached a hand down between the two of you, taking a hold of one of your thighs and spreading your legs open for him. Spencer pulled away from the kiss, meeting your eyes. “Do you still want to do this?” he asked. 
You nodded. “I want to do this with you, Spencer.”
“You have to be vocal,” he said, continuing to look down at you. “I want you to tell me what you feel and what you need.”  You agreed.  
He kissed you gently once more before guiding his hand in between your legs, pushing a single finger into your opening. Spencer thrusted the digit in and out of you slowly, allowing you to get used to the feeling. “Do you think you can take another one?” he asked quietly. 
You nodded, “Yes.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you, the next intrusion stretching you more than the last. He worked his index and middle fingers in and out of your opening as you moaned under him. 
After another minute, he pulled away from you. “You’re doing so good,” Spencer encouraged. He gave himself a couple quick strokes as he reached over to his side table, pulling a condom out of the drawer. He slid the condom over himself and positioned both your legs on either side of his body, lining himself up with your entrance. “Remember, you have to tell me what you’re feeling. Okay?” 
He rubbed soothing circles on your thigh with one hand as he gently rubbed his cock up and down your folds, collecting your wetness. You whimpered as Spencer pressed his tip into your entrance, body jerking inadvertantly as he continued to enter you. He peppered your collar with kisses as he continued. There was a small tinge of pain which brought tears to the corner of your eyes, but the pleasure was overriding the minor discomfort you felt. After fully entering you, he paused, allowing you to adjust.  
“How does it feel?” he asked. Your eyes, which had been squeezed shut, fluttered open at his voice. 
“Spencer-” you stuttered, “m-move. Please.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling himself back and entering you slowly once again. 
“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned above you. You couldn’t respond, too focused on the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you to begin to form a reply. “I wish you could see yourself right now,” he whispered, peppering your cheeks with kisses, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You moaned at his praise, and you felt yourself tightening around his cock. “You like it when I tell you how good you’re doing?” Spencer asked, a mischievous smirk rising to his lips. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N. You’re taking me so well,” he punctuated the final two words with sharp thrusts of his hips.
Between the words coming out of his mouth and the consistent movement of his hips, you knew you wouldn’t last long. You moaned, dragging your fingernails down his chest in an attempt to let him know. “Words, baby,” he encouraged. 
“I-” you groaned, “I’m gonna cum.” 
Spencer nodded, lifting himself up on his right arm to create some distance between you. “Hold on for me, one second.” He snaked a single hand down your torso, reaching your clit. He began drawing tight circles on your clit, causing your legs to shake as you tightened around him. Spencer leaned down to you and pressed his body against yours, “Let go, I’ve got you.”
With his permission, your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your back arched off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut, Spencer’s name falling off your lips. Driven by the feeling of you constricting around his cock, Spencer drove one final thrust into you, pushing himself in to the hilt. 
You felt an unfamiliar sensation as he finished into the condom inside of you, lips parted in a silent groan as he held himself above you, staring deep into your eyes. “Good girl,” he whispered one more time as he collapsed on top of you. You both laid there for a second in a futile attempt to catch your breath. He leaned up, placing a soft kiss on your lips before he pulled out of you, causing you to moan at the sensation. “I’ll be right back,” he said. 
You heard him exit his bedroom, and the sound of water running drew your attention to the bathroom. A moment later, Spencer reentered the bedroom. “Come on, baby. Let’s get cleaned up.” It was then you became aware of the amount of sweat coating your body, as well as the wetness coating your inner thighs. You accepted his outstretched hand as he lead you to his bathroom, allowing you to sink into the bathtub before he followed suit. He climbed in behind you, allowing you to lean back against him. “How do you feel?” he asked. 
You turned your head to look at him, “I feel great.” You sat in silence for a second, a smile spreading across your face. 
“What?” Spencer asked. 
You shook your head, covering your face before letting out a small giggle. 
Spencer’s smile mirrored your own. “C’mon now, what is it?”  
“I guess you did have a lot to teach me, Dr. Reid.” You turned to look at him, eyes meeting for the first time since entering the bathtub. 
Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, lips dangerously close to your ear. “Believe me, there’s lots for you to learn, if you’re interested.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you asking me on a date, Doc?” 
He sighed, leaning back against the bathtub. “Sure am.”
“Maybe next time, we’ll actually make it through dinner and get to dessert,” you said with a laugh. 
“I don’t know,” he said, leaning around to look at you. He lowered his voice, “Now that I know what you taste like, you’re my favorite dessert.”
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incognit0slut · 5 months
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DARK DESIRES
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Last part of kinktober | main masterlist
ghostface!spencer x fem!reader; dubcon, knife play, sensory deprivation, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, rough sex
A twisted encounter with the masked killer roaming in your neighborhood had you questioning your morals because as it turned out, you were more attracted to him than you let on.
words: 6335
a/n: this fic might not be everyone's cup of tea. IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU, DO NOT ENGAGE. Anyway, thank you for the amount of love everyone has sent me through this short series. I appreciate it❤️
(find my ghostface reid edit here and here)
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THE FIRST ENCOUNTER you had with the masked killer was at home. You were in your living room, absentmindedly flipping through the channels on the television until the news captured your attention. You watched with a mix of fascination and horror as the unfolding report detailed a series of gruesome murders, each committed by a mysterious figure concealed behind a chilling mask.
"The armed suspect remains at large as law enforcement intensifies efforts for apprehension," the newscaster's voice declared. "Victims have sustained multiple stab wounds, with survivors recounting a chilling detail of a mysterious call from an unknown number before each attack. Citizens are urgently requested to report any suspicious phone activity."
As you sat there engrossed, a sense of dread began to coil around you. The details of the gruesome murders had been haunting enough, but a chilling realization gripped you as the camera panned across the crime scenes. Your eyes widened as the news footage revealed a recognizable building. That was the local library a few blocks away from your house.
A shiver went down your spine, and a cold unease settled in the pit of your stomach, as you realized that one of the victims was the young teenage boy who volunteered at the town's library every weekend. It then dawned on you with chilling clarity—a serial killer was lurking in your neighborhood.
The second time you saw the masked killer, his face was plastered around town. Ghostface. That was what they called him. The once-anonymous menace had transformed into a chilling icon that echoed through hushed conversations and whispered warnings. His mask, a pale and expressionless countenance with hollow eyes, exuded an unsettling aura of anonymity. It was what you saw in every corner; materializing on posters, shop windows, and even billboards.
Beware of Ghostface!
It was ironic. For someone who was murdering people with his bare hands, your community was giving him too much attention. It wasn't until you saw a group of well-dressed people, who clearly weren't from around here, that you realized how serious this situation was.
When the FBI arrived, you knew it was no longer a local matter, but a national concern. There was reassurance in their presence, in the sense that the full force of specialized agents was now focused on apprehending the killer that haunted the streets. But despite their formidable presence, against all expectations, the masked killer continued to pursue more victims.
You couldn't help but wonder every time someone you knew was reported dead—were these people even doing their job right? What were they doing here when they couldn't arrest one person when they came in a full pack?
You never really noticed these agents, although you did sometimes see them lurking around shops and houses to ask questions. You didn't really give them much attention, until that one night when you walked back from work and saw a figure leaning casually against a sleek, black SUV adorned with government markings.
He was standing alone, arms crossed and eyes focused on you as you slowly stepped closer because the only way to your house was to pass this street. He was clad in the quintessential FBI vest over his dress shirt and tie, his sleeves rolled up along his forearms. His height commanded attention, casting a subtle shadow that seemed to stretch into the surrounding darkness.
A cascade of curly, unruly locks framed his face, falling in a chaotic dance that obscured much of his features. But even in the dark, you could tell he was handsome, and the messiness of his hair added a touch of his disheveled charm. Yet, it was his eyes that held you captive. Stark and penetrating. Instead of finding comfort in the presence of an authority, you felt an unsettling chill crawl down your spine as his stare lingered on you.
"You shouldn't walk alone at night with a killer on the loose," he stated abruptly, his voice cutting through the silence.
Caught off guard, you stammered in response, "I, uh, my house is right around the corner."
His eyes, still fixed on you, held an inscrutable intensity. You shuddered. Without thinking much, and fueled by a sudden surge of unease, you briskly left his side.
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People say the third time's a charm, that the idea after two unsuccessful attempts or failures, the third attempt is more likely to be successful or fortunate. However, in your case, you didn't know what to make of it when you encountered the masked killer for the third time.
It started with a call.
At first, you didn't bother the unknown number flashing on your phone, especially when a killer was roaming around town with its known trademark of calling his victims before his attack. So you ignored it and continued to prepare your dinner. But then it rang again. Once. Twice. Three times. The fourth time it constantly rang, you realized, that whoever was on the other line wasn't going to stop until you answered.
"Hello?" you nervously greeted.
"Hello there. Took you long enough," the voice on the other line replied. It was soft, distinctly masculine, quite disoriented, yet it carried a mysterious familiarity that you couldn't put your finger on.
"Who is this?" you pressed.
"A person."
You scoffed, a mixture of frustration and disbelief coloring your response. "Charming." With an eye roll, you dismissed the call, attributing it to nothing more than a prank. "Goodbye."
"Wait—no! Don't hang up!" The urgency in the voice pleaded, catching your attention before you could close the connection.
Frowning, you hesitated, the nagging sense that you had heard this voice somewhere before lingering in your mind. "No, really, who is this?"
The voice, now veiled in a playful tone, responded with, "A secret admirer." 
You raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across your face. "I doubt it," you said, leaning over the kitchen counter. "No one has ever had a crush on me."
"Well, I do."
"Tell me who you are then," you challenged.
"But it won't be a secret anymore."
You paused for a moment, the wheels of curiosity turning in your mind. "You really know me?" 
"Of course, I do."
"Do I know you then?" you asked.
"Maybe," he answered, a playful ambiguity threading his response. "So, you got a boyfriend?"
"Why?" You laughed, the unexpected question breaking the tension. "You wanna ask me out on a date?" 
"Maybe," he responded again, maintaining a hint of mystery. "So do you have a boyfriend?"
"No."
"That's a pity," he sighed, his tone taking on a flirtatious note. "You look too good in that shirt without a man appreciating it."
Your heart quickened at his words. Was he... you looked around your house, your eyes traveling across the many windows adorned in your personal space. A mixture of shock and discomfort settled in as you considered the possibility of being observed.
"W- What did you say?" 
"You look too good in that white shirt," he repeated. "Doesn't leave much to the imagination." 
You looked down at yourself. The shirt he mentioned was actually a tanktop you decided to wear for bed, but you weren't wearing anything else under it, so true to his words, this piece of clothing didn't leave much to the imagination. The hemline hung low on your chest, leaving a perfect view of your cleavage. The cold temperature of the room managed to make your body react, which was why your nipples were pressing hard against the material.
"Hello? Are you still here?" Sensing your silence, the voice on the other line held a sudden edge of urgency. "Wait—don't you hang up on me—"
You quickly ended the call. Feeling a sudden need for privacy, you hastily closed the curtains, shutting out the view from the windows as you clutched your phone in your hand. Your heart raced, and a wave of dread engulfed you. The unsettling possibility that someone might be targeting you, and not just anyone, but the masked killer, cast a chilling shadow over your thoughts.
The phone rang again. You hesitated, a part of you urging against answering, but somehow, almost involuntarily, you found yourself pressing the phone against your ear. The adrenaline of fear seemed to override your rational instincts, forcing you to engage with the source of the unease, even against your better judgment. 
"I told you not to hang up on me," the man greeted you, but his voice lacked the soft, friendly tone it had before. Instead, it had morphed into something more sinister, a deep resonance that reverberated through the air.
"Wh-who is this?" you asked, your voice quivering with a blend of fear and frustration. "What do you want?"
"To volunteer. Let me appreciate how good you look tonight."
You were desperate now. The urgency in his voice propelled you into action. Your feet guided you to the front door, and you locked it securely before quickly running up the stairs. Panic seized you as you checked and secured all the windows, the sense of vulnerability amplifying with each lock turned.
A sudden sound of laughter filled your ear. 
"What you're doing is useless," he taunted, the malicious glee in his voice sending shivers down your spine. Then, with a sinister tone that cut through the air, his next words had you stopping in your tracks.
"I'm already inside."
The air in the house thickened with dread as his words hung ominously. Panic set in, and the once-familiar surroundings now felt like a trap closing in around you. Every creak of the house, every flicker of shadow, became a sign of impending danger.
He was the one to end the call, and you looked down at your front door from the top of your stairs. You calculated how long it would take you to escape your own house as you slowly descended down. But then, the closet door by the front, the small room where you kept your coats and unused items, suddenly opened.
The creak of the door echoed through the silence, and your eyes fixated on the widening gap. Your escape route seemed to diminish and fear paralyzed you. The once-familiar confines of your home now held an intruder, and as you stared at the ominous opening, a figure emerged from the shadows.
Your eyes widened, because right in the flesh was none other than Ghostface, stepping out of your closet with a knife in his hand. The chilling reality gripped you, and time seemed to slow as the masked intruder stood before your eyes. The pale, ghostly visage stared back at you, obscured by the haunting mask that concealed any trace of humanity.
You moved on instinct. You turned on your heels and ran back up the stairs, even when you were aware there was no escape unless you jumped out of your window. But it was a better plan than running right into the arms of a killer, so you picked up your pace, sprinting as fast as you could down the hallway.
But he was fast, unnaturally so, and suddenly you felt a vice-like grip around your waist. His hand urged you with brutal force before slamming your back against the wall. The impact reverberated through your body, and a gasp caught in your throat as the cold surface of the wall pressed against you.
His presence loomed, the masked figure inches from your face. The hollow eyes of Ghostface bore into yours through the chilling mask, and the glint of the knife in his hand reflected the cruel intent that hung in the air.
Panic engulfed you as his other gloved hand circled around your throat. "Pl-Please.." you chocked, struggling against the force he pressed on your neck. "...don't—don’t kill me."
The air felt constricted, and the desperate plea escaped your lips in a struggled gasp. The gloved hand tightened its grip, the leather cool against your skin, as Ghostface's masked visage remained impassive. 
"Kill you?" he asked, an eerie edge in his voice. "That's the last thing I want to do right now."
You desperately placed a hand on his wrist as you let your phone hit the ground.
"Don't move," he warned. But you kept on thrashing around, the primal instinct for survival overriding reason, and he tightened his grip on you. "If you keep struggling, I might have to gut you out like a damn fish."
That made you stop. Satisfied you were listening, he finally let go of your throat. The release brought a gasp of air, and you stumbled back, leaning against the wall. 
"I'm not here to kill you," Ghostface declared, the chilling mask betraying no emotion. "But I do have something else in mind." 
He responded by caressing your face and pinning you against the wall. The cold, gloved hand traced a chilling path across your skin, and you felt the sharp contrast between the mask and the vulnerability of your flesh. He tilted his head as he saw the fear in your eyes, tears welling at the corners.
"Aw, come on, don't look so scared," he murmured, a perverse tenderness in his voice that clashed with the situation. His sharp blade went to your throat, the cold steel sending a shiver down your spine. He forced you to stare into the hollowness of the mask.
"Let me have my fun."
You felt the blade on your skin as he dragged the weapon along your body. He smiled when he noticed you tensing, trying to avoid the sharpness of the blade from grazing your skin. Through tear-filled eyes, you looked up, struggling to catch your breath. Fear still consumed you, a chilling grip on your senses, but alongside it, an unexpected emotion stirred. Curiosity.
As you gazed at the masked killer looming over you, a strange sense of intrigue took place. It was a baffling response, the surreal proximity to the infamous Ghostface left you grappling with a mix of terror and fascination. The sheer scale of his presence seemed to stretch into the shadows, and you couldn't help but wonder—was he actually this tall?
A sudden movement caught your attention as he took a step. He moved underneath the black cloak he wore, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he slipped a leg between yours. The confined space of the hallway seemed to shrink further as his presence pressed in on you.
And then there was silence. The air hung heavy with anticipation, and you sensed a deliberate slowness in his actions. It was as if he offered you a chance to resist, to push him away. But you didn't move. Instead, you held your breath, the rhythmic pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet.
"You've stopped struggling," he hummed to himself, trailing the knife over your shoulder. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
There wasn't time for you to reply as he hooked the blade under your top and ran it along the fabric, watching it snap under the sharp surface. The cool air hit your skin as you were suddenly exposed to him. Without warning, his other hand moved over your breasts, squeezing them roughly, earning a gasp from you. Your heart pounded with something akin to fear, or perhaps, it oddly felt like… excitement?
"Of course, you are," he muttered, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You could feel the cool touch of his gloved hand over your skin as he brushed his thumb over your sensitive bud. "Knew you were a fucking slut."
What was happening? It was wrong, morally twisted, yet you found a strange sense of anticipation as he continued to touch you. Your body was shaking, not just from fear, but from something else. While your rational side recoiled at what was happening, your body seemed to betray a darker truth.
You hated yourself. You loathed how easily you were giving in. You kept on reciting how wrong this was in your head, but when you felt the blade cut through the fabric of your shorts with ease, you didn't mind as much. Then your breath hitched when he quickly ripped your panties with his knife, and somehow you were now naked with his leg placed between your thighs.
"Would you look at that?" He taunted, his leathered hand moving over your curves. "You're dripping."
You let out a small, shaky sigh as he dragged his fingers up your thigh, stopping just before his fingers brushed over your heat. The touch was so faint it shouldn't have even had that much of an effect on you, but it did. It fucking did.
This was so unlike you, you weren't the kind of person to let someone you barely knew touch you. You even disliked the idea of a one-night stand. Yet here you were, legs wide open as you let a murderer touch you, and the messed up thing was, you wanted more.
He began carefully moving his middle and forefinger in a gentle circular motion, rubbing your clit teasingly as if to test your reaction. You bit your bottom lip, stopping yourself from moaning aloud, your eyes fluttering closed as he played with your clit skillfully.
He was far too good at this, you found yourself thinking. Your body jerked as he increased his pace and you knew he had a goal in mind—to make you fall apart. The fast pace of his fingers had your brows furrowing as you chewed your bottom lip, desperate to keep quiet despite the way your hips bucked and rolled against his hand. He let out a chilling laughter.
"Stop acting like you don't want this," he said, increasing his pressure on your clit. Your eyes screwed shut, and you focused on that touch alone, the leather sliding over your wet skin. "Let me hear your pathetic voice."
You shook your head furiously.
"No?" He mocked. "You wanna bet how fast I can make you scream?"
His fingers moved from your clit, dragging down your slit and collecting your juices, briefly stroking you, earning a muffled cry out of you. Your chest began to heave, your hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over you casually. He laughed again.
"I'm going to make you scream so loud your neighbors will know how much of a slut you are."
And then he pressed the edge of the blade on your throat at the same time he plunged two fingers inside you. Your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open and a loud squeal left your lips, the sound distorted by the vibrations surging through your body. He hummed in satisfaction at how fast it was to earn that moan from your lips, and surprisingly, he loved the sound you made.
It didn't take long for him to force more sounds out of your pretty mouth. You felt the coolness of the wall behind your back, the pads of your fingers brushing over the concrete in a pathetic attempt to get a hold of something, anything that could keep you steady while his fingers kept pumping in and out of your throbbing cunt with a wet, squelching sound.
Adrenaline surged through your veins, saturating every cell of your trembling body. The electrifying rush heightened your senses, amplifying the surreal nature of the pleasure. You wriggled your hips under the pressure of his body that was keeping you pinned against the wall, feeling so fucking embarrassed by the wetness dripping out of you.
"Fucking filthy, letting a murderer touch you." He then dragged his fingers out of you and started to rub your clit in tight, rapid circles. You practically cried out and quickly bit your lower lip to subside another embarrassing moan. "You know how many people I've killed with this hand? The same hand touching your sweet little pussy?"
Your thighs tightened around his hand, trying desperately to push him away. He responded by sinking three of his fingers inside you and groaned at the way you were clenching around him. "Look at you taking my fingers so well."
The leather slightly burned your skin, and somehow, it only heightened your pleasure. The heel of his palm pressed against your clit hard as he continued to curl his fingers. You gasped as your eyes fluttered open, looking up at him while his fingers pushed deeper into you, touching a spot you had never been aware of. The sensation brought an unusual feeling to your senses. You looked at him in confusion, your eyes widening.
"Pl- Please, stop," you begged out of fear of the unknown. The tickling in your abdomen was becoming almost unbearable, and you clasped your thighs together and involuntarily bent your knees a little in an attempt to make his fingers slip out of your wet cunt.
With a feral growl, he suddenly threw the knife on the floor before wrapping his hand around your throat, pinning your head against the wall.
"Take it," he hissed and tightened his grip, making you jolt forward. You helplessly part your legs and whimpered as his palm brushed over your clit with every thrust, his hard cock rubbing against your thigh as he held you in place. "Fucking take it."
The sensation was overwhelming to the point tears began to trickle down your face, and you tried to desperately blink them away as they hindered your vision.
"Oh, you're crying now?" He cooed, still rocking his fingers violently inside you. "Pathetic."
Before you knew it, your hips were bucking, distraught cries escaping you. Your body shuddered as if it were under his control, forcing out your orgasm like it was effortless as his fingers curled inside you, continuing to stimulate you even after you begged him to stop.
It wasn't long before he was bringing you back up again. His pace turned into a more intense speed that, to your surprise, the familiar contracting of your pulsing walls was followed by the splurge of weird liquid coming out of you. Your mouth fell open as you writhed against him, your sensitive cunt almost numb to the sensation as he pressed you for more.
You were so numb you could no longer feel his fingers buried deep inside your convulsing walls, squeezing around his digits as you shook in the tremors of your release. When you looked at him in shock, cheeks burning crimson and chest rising and falling heavily, a pretentious laugh left him. With a vulgar squelching sound, he slipped his fingers out of your pussy.
"Squirting like a pathetic slut,” he spat, his other hand still wrapped around your neck. "Told you I'd make you scream."
Your body turned pliant as you gave in and sank against the wall. You watched him lean down through your half-lidded eyes as you tried to ground yourself, his movements deliberate and swift, grabbing your wrecked shirt from the floor. You watched in confusion as he pressed the flimsy material together before firmly shoving it over your eyes.
Panic surged through you as the sudden darkness enveloped our vision. Although you couldn't see him, you heard him very well. His muffled breathing behind the mask, the soft rustle of fabric as he adjusted the material at the back of your head. Your other senses were heightened when you were robbed of your vision that you could even smell him.
The sharp scent of sweat and a faint hint of earthiness clung to him, as though remnants of the ground followed his presence. Yet, amidst the rawness, there was a surprising note of sweetness, as if a subtle cologne lingered beneath the surface.
God, he was so close. His chest was now pressed against yours, and then suddenly, almost forcefully, you felt warm hands grip your jaw. Your mouth fell open.
He took off his gloves.
Goosebumps rose on your skin when a sudden breeze of air brushed across your face and you gasped. You could barely think clearly, and you could barely even brace yourself when harsh lips captured your mouth desperately. You couldn't believe what was happening, because holy fuck—you were kissing Ghostface.
There was nothing remotely gentle about the way he kissed you. A deep shuddering groan rippled through him as he continued to assault your lips. You were too stunned at the way he pushed his tongue inside your mouth, tasting you in a way that had your body trembling at the sheer force of intensity traveling through your veins.
And when you finally felt his bare fingers grazing along your drenched core, going up and down your swollen folds, he captured the moan falling through your lips with a groan.
"So fucking filthy," he whispered against your lips as he continued to tease you. His voice, once muffled, was now very clear. The tones were distinct, carrying an inexplicable familiarity that tugged at the edges of your memory. But before you could even try to recall where you had heard it before, he surprised you by increasing the speed of his fingers.
"You want more of this, don't you?"
You shook your head, but your body was saying otherwise. Your hand gripped his arm as he started to play with your clit again, and your knees buckled pathetically. His other hand fell on your waist to steady you while he pressed a kiss on the hollow point of your throat, traveling further up the skin till his teeth nibbled on your ear lobe.
He then grabbed onto one of your legs and hiked it around his waist as he pushed his hips into you. You could feel the outline of his hard cock behind the cloak he was wearing and you let out a whimper when he started rolling his hips.
"Is this what you want?" He rasped out at the shell of your ear. You felt strong hands grip your wrists before he pushed them above your head, pining you against the wall. "You want me to fill you up with my cock?"
You shook your head again, attempting to anchor yourself. The struggle was evident in the tension of your muscles, each fiber resisting the pull toward surrender. You should push him. You should cry for help. Yet here you were questioning your sanity as you slowly, almost desperately, grind your hips along with his, yearning for more friction.
"Dirty, dirty slut," he muttered against your lips before kissing you once again, swallowing your whimpers as his hips snapped into you. "I bet you feel so tight around me."
Desire roared fire in your veins, and you whined. He leaned over and captured one of your nipples in his wet, warm mouth, and you moaned again before he let out a satisfied hum. You could practically feel the smirk curling on his lips as he taunted, "You react so well. I might have to keep you."
Goosebumps rose along your skin. Then in a swift and forceful motion, he yanked you, abruptly pushing you to the ground. The impact was sudden and jarring, leaving you landing on your knees.
As you tried to make sense of what was happening, a hand pushed against your back, and you toppled forward, landing on the ground face-first, finding yourself on your hands and knees. A sharp smack hit your bare ass from behind and you jolted in surprise.
"Spread them wide for me," He murmured, gaze skipping over your nakedness. He marveled at the sight before him, the way you shamelessly arched your back at his command. Yet when he noticed you hesitating, he dropped his voice in a lower, sinister tone.
"Don't make me use my knife."
You quickly did as you were told, your hands traveling behind you, spreading your sticky thighs in a languorous stretch, and you shuddered under the weight of his eyes. You whined at the feeling of the cold air hitting your exposed skin and a trickle of your arousal ran down your thigh, much to your utter embarrassment. "Look how pretty you are."
Heat blossomed in your chest. Then the sound of a belt being undone had you whimpering, and you moved instinctively, arching your back even further. One of his hands landed on your ass again with a sharp smack before he gripped a firm handful of it. You could hear more rustling and a slight soft thud behind you. The lack of vision made you overly sensitive and you found yourself waiting with bated breath for his every move.
With a sharp tug, he pulled you back by your hips before one of his hands landed on the back of your neck. You felt him push down hard and you obliged, lowering your face and upper body to the floor as his other hand remained holding your hips up in the air. And then you felt him—pulsing warm right at your entrance.
A pitiful groan escaped your lips as the tip of his cock swiped back and forth along your folds. He moaned out a deep, pleasure-filled noise that reverberated around the small space at the feel of your arousal coating him. And then suddenly, without warning, he abruptly plunged inside of you. He thrust straight into that spot deep inside that stung so good a sharp cry slipped out of you. It was painful, his sheer force of girth stretching you apart, though that cry quickly became a low moan of pleasure.
The man behind you showed no mercy, thrusting his hips into you with force and purpose, so hard you felt your body inching across the hardwood floor with each stroke. Your mouth fell open when one of his hands released your neck before you felt him grabbing a fistful of your hair, just at the base of your skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise of pleasure tore out of you and he repeated the gesture, the tug on your hair even rougher.
He held himself there as he used the grip on your hair to haul you backward to him. Your back was arched, his cock still buried deep inside of you as you fell back into his chest. For a few moments, it was almost uncomfortable, but then, surprisingly, you felt even more aroused than you already were.
You pushed your ass even higher, arching your body in search of more of that delicious sensation. It felt like electricity shocked your entire body, triggering intense waves of pleasure that repeatedly spread wildly from your core as you focused on the pleasure building between your legs, the burning sensation filling you to the brim.
It was maddening. Frustrating, even. Because you didn't even care anymore, you didn't even care if you exposed for him, you didn't even care if your knees ached from the hard friction of the floor because any shreds of sanity and pride had long since been destroyed. You wanted more. You needed more. 
It was so twisted. You longed to be broken by him. You longed to be ruined by him.
You had never imagined being in this position, kneeling on the floor with a murderer thrusting himself into you, yet here you were, whimpering at the sensation of doing the forbidden. Your mind turned delirious he released the hold on your hair, his hand snaking around your front to grip your throat.
You continued to meet his savage thrusts with your hips, slamming into you as your wail turned into a ragged scream. The sensation, though pleasurable, became too intense to handle. You attempted to move away from him, stealing his breath as your inner walls clenched around his cock. His firm hand gripped your hips tighter, preventing you from pulling away as he held you in position, thrusting his cock into your throbbing pussy.
A helpless sound trickled from your throat as your body jerked, and he mercilessly fucked you through it. Everything was so intense your mind was struggling to comprehend what was happening as he pounded into you roughly. You tried to breathe through the incredible pleasure surging through your body but you were too overwhelmed. "T-Too much."
"T-Too much," he mocked. A sinister laugh sliced through the darkness, sending shivers down your spine. "Fucking. Take. It."
His words were punctuated with every snap of his hips. The insistent thrust made you thrash your head as your body convulsed, dragging it out and heightening it to a point where you could only wail. Your breath came in harsh pants; his breathing was as rough as he urged you on, and you gave yourself over to the wildfire consuming your body. You whimpered, head rolling back onto his shoulder.
"That's it, taking me so perfectly," his voice, now a sinister whisper, slithered into your ears. "Knew you were special the moment I saw you."
A gasp escaped you, the weight of his words settling with an unsettling realization. Amidst the darkness, you felt the contours of his laughter.
"Don't act so surprised. I'm your secret admirer, remember?" You felt his hand leave your hips before it trailed toward your front. You knew what he was about to do and you clenched him involuntarily, already anticipating what was to come. 
"Fuck," He hissed. "You feel so tight around me. I really do have to keep you now."
The coil inside you was dangerously close to snapping and he growled as your cunt clenched around his cock.
"Oh, you liked that. You like the idea of me using you? Fuck you whenever I want?" He questioned, his fingers moving to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. You bit down on your lower lip, feeling the coil in your abdomen tightening at his sharp movements, your hands moving to his wrist as you tried to ground yourself.
You gasped when you felt him tightening the grip on your throat, the skin tingling as he repeated the motion. "Filthy little thing, aren't you?"
"I-I—" You spluttered, feeling your legs going numb. You squealed when you felt him pick up his pace on your clit, rubbing messy circles against it as your back slumped against him, mouth parting, your tongue slipping out between your lips.
It was too much. You felt like you were about to explode. Your mind went blank. Your body felt numb. There was nothing else you could do but to give into the force of pleasure consuming you as he fucked you roughly, his hips hitting you in harsh motions.
"You gonna cum now?" He grunted, pressing his mouth at the shell of your ear. You helplessly nodded, not able to make out any coherent words anymore. He groaned between thrusts, keeping a firm grip on your ass to keep you from squirming. "Go on then, cum on my cock like the filthy whore that you are."
As if on command, your body spasmed involuntarily. It started with a prickling of your skin creeping up your body, over your breasts and face, inner walls tightening around his cock, and you came hard. You squirmed uncontrollably as all that pent-up pleasure welled up in your core. Your heart was pounding erratically against your heaving chest you could even hear the pounding in your ears.
Your mind was in a drunken haze as the pleasure continued to flow through your veins, his fingertips languidly brushed against your clit. But despite the desperate spasms of your pussy, he continued to penetrate your body. Every thrust hit more intensely than the last, wetness flooded from you as reality slipped away, and all you could do was burn, vocally urging him on as he moaned darkly behind you.
You were very far from sanity from everything consuming your body. You felt him everywhere. His grinding cock, the press of his fingers as they moved to toy with your clit, and his blunt nails cut around your throat. Your cunt continued to possessively grip his cock as you wailed breathlessly.
Heat traveled through you, body quivering and going boneless, the warm ripples of release dulling the sharp edges of your mind as he drove into you and finally chased his own high. The filthy feel of him emptying inside you, your shimmering release, and his hands decorating your skin with fingerprint bruises, was all you could focus on.
Until the distinct sound of sirens echoed in the background.
Your mind went hazy as you tried to anchor yourself and you heard him chuckle in amusement. "I guess you really woke your neighbors up," he said, letting go of his grip around your throat. You let out a breathless sigh when you felt him slipping out of you, surprisingly feeling empty.
He groaned as his eyes traveled down, watching the way his release dripped out from your convulsing pussy, traveling down the length of your thighs. “It’s a pity I have to cut this short.” Then you felt his lips near your ear. “Until next time."
"W- What?" Your head snapped up, disoriented in the darkness, as you tried to discern his voice. "You'll come back?"
"I'll be here when you least expect it." Then the unexpected happened. He surprised you with a gentle kiss on your shoulder, a stark contrast from everything that had taken place. The contradiction sent shudders through you as you felt his grip on your hips tightening. "Keep your doors unlocked for me."
A sudden emptiness enveloped you as he withdrew from your personal space. Your mind, still reeling from the inexplicable events, struggled to make sense of what happened. And now the realization that he wasn't behind you anymore prompted your hands to instinctively reach for the makeshift blindfold, swiftly slipping it off your face.
Blinking in the sudden light, your eyes adjusted to the surroundings. Your eyes caught his figure standing tall at the top of your staircase, back turned, a fleeting glimpse of brown curls disappearing beneath the mask he hastily put back on. 
Abruptly, he turned to you, the hollow visage of Ghostface now fixed in your direction. The tilt of his head sent a shiver down your spine as he looked at you for another fleeting second, as if he was giving you a silent promise as the faint sound of sirens continued from the distance. You stared back at him, heart thrumming in your chest.
And then he was gone.
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Text
The gang + powerful overlord reader who is trying to reform
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A/n: Tbh I don't have the strongest grasp on what makes an overlord an overlord but I tried. Everything here is platonic!
Warning: Very slight alluding to suicide. It's in one sentence and not supposed to be about suicide but I just wanted to warn y'all in case.
(Not beta read!)
You honestly didn't want to be an overlord. But if you had some power maybe the citizens of hell would leave you alone. And you were admittedly powerful. Which wasn't by your own doing, just like in the living world everything was down to luck. And you won the lottery. So you decided to spend the money and became an overlord. Just to lower the chance of demons pestering you.
It worked. It worked too well. You took out a few overlords, it was dirty. You caught them off guard in the middle of going about their life. You don't keep up with politics. To your surprise, you took out two heavy hitters. Which did result in people not pestering you. But not just that it resulted in them outright avoiding you. You didn't feel good about killing them, you just killed as many as you thought would need to make you noteable. If you had just killed the two it would have removed more unnecessary deaths that you caused.
People would literally light themselves on fire rather than be near you. Out of fear of what gruesome way you would kill them. Not that you would kill them but rumors spread. It went from you just stabbing the overlords to torturing them in the most messed up way possible. You being this insanely powerful and sadistic being. That was the only way they could imagine you killing some of the most powerful creatures in hell.
So it was like that for years. As you were walking around the death and carnage you didn't mean to cause. Amidst all the screams you heard a TV playing. You check it out and it was some sort of ad. You recognized Angel from Val. Whenever Velvet was the one to show up at meetings she would always manage to bring up her and the other Vee's social media presence. Which with Val would involve his pornos. At least he's able to escape from that prick sometimes. Despite the glitch he was somehow causing and his face being hidden you also recognized Alastor.
You didn't know much about your colleague's personal lives. You barely showed up at the meeting but this piqued your interest. But it was quickly cut off by the news.
"Breaking news in hell today!" One of the broadcasters, Katie, spoke, "We have just received word from the Heaven embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before!"
Well fuck you guess. You were never worried about exterminations. Not only did you have a safe area then none of the angels seemed to visit, if they killed you you'd be out of this dumpster fire. Granted you could go to an even worse dumpster fire but you didn't know that for sure.
But you were interested in whatever that first ad was for. Granted everyone was panicking so it wasn't like you could ask anyone about it. However, the news cut right back to the ad.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" A woman with an x over her eye spoke.
It cut to Husk (Who you've only heard snippets about from Alastor.) and Angel.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel." Husk's eyes lingered below him. Clearly reading a script. If his eyes didn't give it away his monotone voice certainly did. "Can I help you with anything?"
"I've been a bad boy. And I need a big strong daddy to put me in my place." Angel moaned. There was a slight sigh coming from behind the camera. Okay ew. You were not trying to see porn while going for a walk. Just as you were about to walk away Angel spoke up again, "On the path to redemption!"
Oh! That sounded... quite nice actually. You didn't exactly believe in the idea. But a chance to get away and even a chance to redeem yourself was a very nice idea.
You went to the hotel's door and racked against the door. Which was kind of stupid. Hotel doors don't need to be knocked on but it still felt like the right thing to do. The fucking princess of hell herself opened the door with a somewhat panicky smile plastered on her face.
"Hello-" She bit her lip "One second." She left but left the door open a creek, "Vaggie it happened again!" She yelled you could hear the rest of what she was saying but you saw a red glow approaching the door.
Before you knew what was happening your hand (and whole body was being shaken by the Radio demon himself, "Why hello y/n!" His staticky voice greeted, "Are you here to watch this wayward adventure fail as well? Or perhaps you aim to entertain it?" Alastor unnerved you. While you were the same on power level he was unpredicted any vengeful thoughts he had were hidden behind his smile.
He was gently pushed away by Charlie. "So sorry about the wait, just wasn't expecting another powerful overlord." She vaguely gestured to Alastor, "So do you want to check in?" Her voice was cautiously hopeful.
"Yep!"
Her eyes turned the size of saucers, "OK! Great so um sorry I'm just so excited! You can go choose your room! A few are already occupied by our guests and staff! But it's pretty easy to tell which rooms are taken." She rambled. As she guided you through the hotel the woman with an x over her eye pointed a spear at you as you passed by.
A short one-eyed girl scattered around. The exact opposite of how she was in the ad. She stabbed a bug with a whole knife getting dangerously close to Husk being at the end of her knife in the process.
Angel glanced at you and any color his already pure white face had drained. Uh oh.
"One minute." You said and walked over to the spider demon, "Fyi just to let you know I also want to kill Val. Just say the word and I might finally be able to go through with it." You said in a hushed voice. He was still tense but visibly relaxed.
You soon found a room and got somewhat set up. You'd have to bring some stuff from your house tomorrow. But today you decided to just collapse onto your bed. While your first impressions weren't of a super chill place, it did give the impression of a family. Maybe your life wouldn't be so much of a living hell here.
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kisses4reid · 24 days
Text
convenient pt.4 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
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pt. 3 (you cannot read this without prior reading)
summary - you don’t need help with your biology anymore, you need help understanding the chemistry that seems to be growing between you and spencer.
warnings - jealousy, dickhead guy, unwanted flirting, awkward spencer, mentions of getting run over and pouring rain, studying.
genre - college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer, fluff, angst if you squint, jealousy trope
a/n - i hope you all enjoy this part. comment or put in a req to be added to the convenience taglist, if you’ve already asked and i haven’t mentioned you please message orso i can make sure you’re on my list for the next part! love you all 🫶
sat in a plush office chair, in a cool room, in a comfortable dress shirt, surrounded by the people he trusted most, spencer couldn’t seem to live in the moment.
now that’s not something you would suggest to the man when he’s sat in front of multiple gruesome photos and case files, usually he would be 100% focused, no bullshit, no wandering thoughts.
but suddenly he felt light, airy, like these cases were just another day and he would be confident either way. it wasn’t completely untrue, but it was odd. everyone else seemed to notice.
“spencer, are you okay?” aaron hotchner startled the man with his stern and concerned voice, everyone looking up at spencer as a natural reaction. spencer looked around the table, noticing a growing grin between garcia and morgan.
hotch continued, “if you need to sit this one out, by all means.”
spencer shook his head and adjusted his posture, picking up a profile to skim over. there was a small giggle from garcia that brought the attention of aaron.
“what’s going on?”
“reid’s distracted because of a certain someone…” morgan replied, biting the end of his ballpoint pen. garcia slapped his shoulder.
“don’t tease him, meanies. keep going, hotch.”
they were right. he was distracted and felt far away most of the time. he wanted to go somewhere comfortable, like a convenience store with a pretty employee to talk to.
ricky, a handsome guy a few years older than you, was annoying logan with questions he could’ve answered himself. he tagged along with logan to your weekend study session at a small cafe not far from the college. the tall man was mostly agreeable, except for his apparent obsession with straight black coffee. he had had two cups of it already.
“so, y/n. what do you study? wait don’t tell me. nursing, because you seem to be healing my broken heart. psychology, because you’re making me crazy? or is it music, because your voice is like a song?” he leaned forward from across the table, disregarding the punch in the shoulder from logan. you only glared and returned to your expensive textbooks, leaving your drink to turn cold in its abandonment.
“don’t try anything, ricky. she’s basically taken.” she warned with a smirk. you lifted your gaze and rolled your eyes,
“you’re nonsensical. you’ve had too much coffee,” you stop filling out a questionnaire, “he’s not even that… he’s… ugh, i don’t know.” you place your pen down and stretch in the stiff wooden chair.
ricky laughs, clapping his hands together, “okay so you totally have a crush on a guy.”
“i do not.”
“i guess i’ll back off with my advances, unlessss, you truly don’t have a crush on your lover boy?”
“i do not- but still please back off, you’re gross.”
logan and ricky shared a glance and went back to their work silently. like they knew something you didn’t. your brain had turned stuffy, you need to get some air, you needed to get away from the truth.
garcia and morgan appeared so suddenly spencer thought turbulence had pushed them into their seats in front of him. his gaze snapped from the airplane wing to their two giddy faces and immediately knew what this conversation was going to be about. it only made him a little bit uncomfortable, these types of conversations. girls, flirting, being happy around someone he doesn’t work with, it was all unfamiliar. it seemed he chose the best people to talk about it to though; garcia had given him a little too much information about his crush from her unwanted snooping, and in the process morgan was also given all of this information.
“yes, okay, i told derek all about your girl but i couldn’t help it! he’s very persuasive!” garcia pouted. spencer thinned his lips and nodded, expecting a surge of conversation but he was only met with silence. morgan and garcia shared a glance.
“look, spencer. we’re only doing this to distract ourselves from the case we just closed, and to help you. if you don’t want help, if you think this… thing, will die out, then tell us. but, if you do want some adviceee…” morgan spoke smoothly, quiet enough to avoid attention from anyone else.
when spencer stayed silent, thinking about how he could never use you as a distraction, morgan whispered, “if nothings happening, you gotta light the match.”
you were standing on an uneven step ladder when the doorbell rang with 10 minutes to closing. you rolled your eyes, thinking you’d have to stay even later because of this customer. but your demise quickly turned to calmness, a little bit of panic, when spencer appeared in the entry way.
you nearly fell off the ladder, dropping the pile of juice boxes in your hands onto the floor. you cursed under your breath, watching from above as spencer picked them up for you.
“thank you.”
there was no need for formalities anymore, it was like you had known each other forever. spencer was silent again, it was becoming his thing.
you clear your throat, “i changed my medication.”
he glanced at you, brown eyes observing your tired expression. he came here unconsciously. he had already had some take out, he didn’t need any coffee, and his fruit bowl was stocked to the brim. spencer walked to this convenience store, the result of the action being evident through the pain in his feet.
the phone in your back pocket caught spencer’s attention, before he promptly looked elsewhere to avoid looking like a creep.
“good, im glad.”
are we really back to this? was one awkward conversation all we needed to go back to strangers?
you stepped down, “no more bruises.”
spencer placed his fingers delicately on his healed cheek, holding back a smile that you actually remembered that.
he asked, “who’s texting you so much?” without much thought. he didn’t think about how it sounded, like he was protective or worried, or what it implied. he didn’t even have your number, why should he be so upset?
“oh it’s just logan and ricky.” you replied simply, folding up the ladder and glancing at the clock placed above the register desk, “are you getting anything?”
because it didn’t seem weird if he came here for you instead of his groceries.
“like your brother, ricky?”
there was a small match burning in his stomach at the sound of those names. he felt like taking your phone and snooping until he reached the end, until his fingers hurt. spencer felt like asking intrusive questions, before he bit his lips to stop himself.
you made notice of his hands fiddling in his pant pockets, rolling your eyes. that made his tongue slip.
“how many guys do you know?”
you looked at him with surprise, walking over to the register, “you think i’m a whore?”
spencer’s heart skipped a beat, “no not at all, i just- i didn’t word that right.”
you shook your head and laughed quietly, starting to count the change sat on your swivel chair. something was off. the street was empty. “did you walk here, spencer?”
spencer’s breath hitched. oh god, were the only words circling in his brain. when you used his name, it was different. this was weird, he needed to get out of there.
you looked so effortless. he looked so anxious.
“yeah. i did.”
you nod, “okay, you can help me lock up then.” you pass him a set of keys for the window covers, and add, “you can walk me home, to make up for the other day.”
spencer nods with a small smile and begins locking up.
you lead the way out of the store and around the corner to a set of traffic lights. the streets are silent and misty, but neither of you felt the need to jay walk in an attempt to speed up this process of awkward walking.
spencer watches you from his advantage point. at how you bite the inside on your lips, how you look at the concrete pathway.
“what’s wrong?” you don’t react, instead push the pedestrian button and sigh.
“it’s monday, spencer. you were going to ‘retry’, ‘be better’? i’m not 100% sure what you meant by that, but you said that right after you told me you were going to ask me out so.”
spencer gulps and nods, hands going back to their safe space in his pockets. “yeah, i said that. but i’m going to have to delay that again. this isn’t really,” he motioned towards the weeds, litter, and flickering street lights with his eyes, and you nod with a smirk.
“romantic?”
“romantic.”
you smile at each other, and for a second he’s utterly entranced before a wave of wind and tires pass him. before a soft hand is hard on his upper arm. his eyes trailed the car, heart beating nearly as hard as it does when he looks at you.
“jesus, are you okay?” you asked worried, and when he nods with a simple stare accompanying it, you look away.
light a match.
you hand leaves him quicker than it got there.
in front of your apartment building, you notice logan’s window alight behind white curtains, and turn to face spencer.
“thank you for walking me home. i would invite you in but it’s 1:20am and i don’t really… know you.”
spencer furrows his eyebrows slightly, looking at you expectantly. your faces turns cold, slightly sorrowful.
“spencer, i don’t know you. i know things about you but i don’t actually know you.” you yawn, wiping a hand over your eyes, “maybe i’m just tired and overworked and…” logan’s voice echoes through your head as you look over the tall, tired and handsome man in front of you, “if you’re not going to ask me out first i’m going to ask you out. so, make a decision.”
it felt wrong being so stubborn and solid with him, but with school and family stress you truly didn’t need any unknown feelings to topple on as well.
spencer was taken aback. he didn’t know one couple where the girl asked out the guy, he didn’t know someone could like him that badly. he didn’t know what to say.
“goodnight, spencer. i’ll see you.”
you turned and pushed on the pull door, before pulling on it. heart thumping in your ears, you slowly held a hand over your mouth, impressed with yourself.
but you lied, you weren’t going to ask him out. you have no idea how to ask someone out.
the convenience store wasn’t so lonely tonight.
logan was arguing with ricky over his choice in deodorant almost louder than the terrible radio music playing throughout the store.
the beating of rain was creating a calming background to this chaos, as well as keeping customers away. all but one, of course.
spencer had an excuse, he was supposed to bring food for the team tomorrow, and this was the closest store. totally. but as he stood under the cover of the stores overhead steel, he felt another match being burnt in the bottom of his stomach.
a tall and toned man with bright blonde hair was leaning over your register and talking to you, making you smile and laugh. your arms were crossed, you were leaned away and you avoided eye contact, but spencer didn’t see any of these signs as the waves of jealousy drowned him.
spencer looked out onto the street. he had no right to feel that way, this was his own fault. he felt even weirder and out of place than he usually felt.
the doorbell rang and your fake smile turned real. logan watched from the toilet spray section and smirked when she recognised the purple-sweater adorned man. ricky stopped his flirting and turned to meet spencer’s eyes, they sized each other up. the blonde man smiled and looked back at your much happier face, “so this is lover boy?”
you smacked his arm hard, receiving a squeal in return. “what? no. ricky this is spencer, spencer this is ricky.”
spencer gulped and ignored the stranger and you. he went for the fruits section. ricky glanced at your confused face, “i might be a threat.”
“in your dreams.” you rolled your eyes and pushed his elbow off your desk. logan approached the counter with a basket full and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. you noticed ricky’s change in expression when looking at her and held back a smile.
“you didn’t get anything for me?” he asked, voice teasing. logan took out a block of mint chocolate and threw it at him, which he caught perfectly with a smirk on his face.
“what’s wrong with lover boy?”
you glare at her, deciding avoiding that nickname was out of the picture. your shoulders slump as you begin scanning her items while making sure spencer wasn’t in earshot. “i mentioned you two, and then he went weird.”
“i mean, if i liked a girl and she told me about two guys- sorry, two people with guy names- i’d be pretty jealous,” ricky inputted.
“is that all? some jealousy got to his head?” logan pressed.
you seriously doubted he would be jealous over that, he seemed smarter than that. he was smarter than that.
logan paid and left, literally dragging ricky behind her, as he waved and winked at you through the windows.
the store was eerily quiet, the only noise coming from the thunderstorm brewing outside. it felt uncanny and uncomfortable. you needed someone’s cologne to wade through or something.
turning while shaking your head, you grabbed out some posters taller than you and turned to have the life scared out of you.
“jesus! i thought i told you to walk louder.”
his groceries were perfectly in line to be scanned, a small smile appearing before promptly vanishing. spencer avoided your eyes, a beating all he could hear.
“he’s your…”
you sighed, disappointed spencer even thought that dumb blonde was someone to you, “acquaintance.” you finished his sentence. “i’ve known him for two days and he a flirtatious dick. everyone named ricky is a dick.”
he pulls out his slim wallet to hand you a $20 bill, fingers skimming each other. one glance.
spencer nods and nearly leaves before you stop him, “can you help me?”
spencer is on the top of the ladder outside, barely staying dry underneath the steel overhead cover with the top corners of a food poster in his hands. you tip toe to give him a piece of double sided tape. the laminated photos wave in the wind, spencer sticks his tongue out in concentration and you smile at the innocent act. leaning against the wall, quickly glancing inside to make sure nobody wanted to check out, you begin talking.
“thank you for doing this, i totally would’ve fallen and died if it weren’t for you. what can i do to repay you?”
spencer thought for a moment, looking down at you, “nothing. you don’t have to do anything. just keep talking.”
so you did, because you didn’t know if you’d see him again after tonight.
PART 5
taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker @c-losur3 @v1ckycheesue @ackermans-angel @scarlettssub @fictionlurker @lovelyygirl8 @momooooca @random-kimmy @leabunny @cultish-corner @doigettokeepyou @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @hinataboke @wenttohogwarts @yaboohah @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @drewsandsebastianswife @hoeshissworld @flow33didontsmoke @bookworm124 @violetvsworld
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celesterayel · 4 months
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midnight secrets | luke castellan
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pairing : luke castellan x nyx!reader
request: can you write about luke and a daughter of nyx? <33
IN WHICH — he knows only one true thing: you put all the stars to shame.
"now I just wanna stay here and fall into midnight. Want nobody else now, only you, feel right" - a.
w.c. 1.9k
warning(s) : soft ゜✭・.
✩ ‧₊˚ author's note can you tell when I was younger I had fallen in love with the night and the idea of it? cuz I did. very much so, I'd say. also water, always loved the concept of it--the fragility and softness of it, like a balm against my skin.
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long, long ago you learned of the sea of stars and their stories, from which rose their beginning and end. the stars were beings of heat and fire; they were beautifully mortal and alive.
they danced upon the domain of zeus; showering the sky with lights when night fell and befitting the world with their glow.
but as the sands of time bade the next and the corners of the sky dulled, the toll of living and breathing became too much. and so in the vast space of nothingness among the empty silence, the stars took on the duty of protecting a human and god: following where they might go, to every lifetime and universe as if they could erase the tragedy of the divine that swam through their blood.
and when each stars’ child died and their soul followed its ache to finally rest, the star would fall out of the sky in a blazing trail of destruction and divinity to taste freedom one last time and meet them in the next life.
there had been something raw and gruesomely alive about the stars when you learned of the story and so everyday, you’d trapeze the mortal line between night and sleep to watch them in absolution. you yearned to find an answer as to why? why would such immortal and imposing celestial beings like the stars willingly ruin themselves for us humans, for us beings that hungered for war and found pain like a symphony?
you learned your answer when you met luke castellan, your own tragic star who would follow you when the blood of the gods stopped flowing through your veins and your existence came to its calamitous end.
you had spent most of your life curiously confused as if there was something missing that made you feel broken; a piece of the puzzle that made drizzles seem like hurricanes and everything seem like an unsolvable mystery, constantly itching at your skin as if you just needed to pull back the layers and scratch.
and then, one day it stopped.
the buzzling in your head faded and you seem to finally just be.
luke castellan was the rain before the storm, the pain before the raw scream; every fatal, holy thing that meant absolution and destruction in the same manner. a price you were willing to pay if it meant loving him.
and you did–love him that is. every part of you ached with love for your golden boy who had weathered storms like they were his prison and had wanted like it was a fatal wound that might never heal.
you first met the golden castellan boy nearly a year after coming to camp where you were claimed to be a child of the night and stars, the goddess nyx; an absolution of divinity that you would be every dark, enchanting thing he would know. you were the only thing that would allow the hurt in him to finally cease its dance and just allow him to simply be.
while the blood of the gods flowed through your veins, the peace only night could bring was your cover. it was every paceless sleep spent at the docks praying to your mother for one more star to keep its dance, it was heaven and heartbreak in the same measure.
when both man and monster fell to slumber, it was the knowing that eventually everyone would cease their dance sooner or later.
people would watch you like you were a painting come to life as the moon basked you in waves of starlight and the forest came to life in your presence. when the night grew tired of its waiting and the stars lost their way, it was you coaxing them back to life to the restlessness all beings underwent.
you were a creature of presence and peaceful destruction, misfortune and desire–every loud, unsaintly thing the brown-eyed, dimpled boy had thought.
and he was your exact opposite: bold, bright and charming like the sun. it was as if hermes had threaded gold through his veins and ichor had poured forth to create whatever celestial thing luke was. a type of burn only the sun could bring when you went off to your death.
the night had settled upon the camp long ago and so nothing but the loudness of silence and pensive dreams continued its echo. except for the child of the night and her sun who seem to find balance between the bumbling and the glow of the soft moon.
luke grabbed your hand and threaded his fingers, clutching you tightly as if you’d disappear with the breeze and never return.
he guided you to the docks where the river reflected back the divinity of the night sky and lapped gentle waves against the shore. you sat side by side, silently basking in the quiet.
breaking the silence, he asked, “what’s wrong?”
what was wrong? you didn’t quiet know. there was just a sort of cloak of discomfort that had settled over you that you couldn’t seem to shake off.
“do you ever wonder what’ll happen next?”
you settled his hand in your lap and grabbed it like it was a lifeline, tethering your aching body back to the living when all you wanted was to fade. he only rubbed the back of your knuckle, soothing the skin and the bone-deep itch all at once.
you turn to gaze at him, and suddenly you were jealous of the moon and how it shined so beautifully on him like it was made for him to bask under.
he turns to look at you, “before no. now…every moment, i begin to think what makes us so different from humans that we suffer tragedy while they can live how they please and without the cruelty of the gods. I think about what will happen when i finally pass on from this life to wherever my soul may go.”
you don’t think you could handle leaving this world after him. it was a type of pain that would kill you inside out, you decided. you knew it.
there is vulnerability in him that speaks out, “and then i dream that none of that matters because someday you and i make it out of here. out of this place and away from gods and monsters.”
you only grab his other hand and the one you currently have trapped and place a kiss upon each of the palms, embedding all the affection you have for him in that moment. it is something so humanely lived that the world stops moving and the gods see a love for the ages.
he plucks you up from his side and merely places you in his lap, wrapping you tightly in arms like there is no war spreading and reaching it’s claws from the horizon toward the two of you.
you simply close your eyes, soaking in the boy who's holding you like you are a divine being.
“open your eyes and show me the stars, pretty girl.”
all he can think is the moon and stars, which you've fallen in love with so many times has nothing against you. and suddenly your staring the biggest star in the face, wondering if in another life you were the moon and he was the sun king.
but when he kisses you, you realize no. he is simply the star that will follow you when your bodies turn to ash, being picked up by the breeze. and there is only the secret that luke castellan would allow himself a thousand years of destruction if it meant following you where ever you go.
you two are simply a star and his love.
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luv4fushi · 1 year
Text
secrecy
jjk megumi fushiguro x fem!reader
hiding your relationship from your loudmouth friends and your energetic teacher is harder than it seems.
content: fluff, established/secret relationship, aged!up megumi (16/17 years old), there is implied/suggestive content because teenagers do stuff (come on, we all know that) but it’s not written out!!! yuji and nobara get the wrong idea and tease the hell out of megumi, that’s all!
wc: 2.1k
click on my masterlist for more!
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meeting up after classes are over is always hard.
yuji and nobara are insistent in their spots between the two of you. yuji stays glued to megumi’s side and nobara sneaks her way in between you two. it’s a surprise that neither of them have caught on yet.
megumi’s sudden confession had been blurted out from the doorway of your dorm. you both had been in a pretty gruesome fight; you had needed stitches despite shoko using reverse cursed technique on you, and megumi was injured with a slight limp. he’d been worried even though you paid your wounds no mind.
“take care of yourself,” he’d said through gritted teeth. “i care about you more than you think.”
it had been out of pity more than anything; he had walked you to your room, believing it was his fault that you’d nearly been killed.
still, you acknowledged the warm words through his usual gruffness.
that had led you to today, with yuji and nobara arguing between the two of you. you want nothing more than to relax in your dorm with megumi’s head on your chest, running your fingers through his messy black hair. he’s got a knack for nuzzling into you, breathing in your scent and peppering kisses along your collarbone. it’s his way of telling you he loves you.
“so what d’ya wanna do then?” nobara huffs, frustrated.
“you just said no to every single restaurant i recommended. why don’t you choose?” yuji whines.
nobara crosses her arms. “i’m not choosing because you’re gonna say no.”
“that’s not true,” yuji deflects, furrowing his brows. “i just told you, i don’t care where we eat.”
“i’m gonna head back,” megumi says, clearing his throat. “i’ve got a mission tomorrow and i wanna get some sleep.”
it’s an obvious excuse, at least to you. megumi isn’t lying, though; he has to visit a train station tomorrow to get rid of a nasty curse that’d been formed from an accident. it’s overgrown and estimated to at least be a grade 1 curse, so megumi is being sent by himself because gojo trusts that he can handle it smoothly. megumi is a grade 1 sorcerer, after all, and lately gojo has been trying to get him reevaluated as a special grade.
“you guys have fun,” you announce shortly after megumi trudges away. “i’m gonna go finish my book before my sparring session with maki.”
“whatttt?!” nobara groans. “maki said she was gonna hang with me! someone isn’t telling the truth and i know it’s you!”
you cringe, knowing you’ve been caught in your lie. “oh, that’s right. the session is tomorrow.”
“if you or megumi aren’t going then i won’t go either!” yuji pouts.
“what was the point of us walking all the way out here?” nobara smacks him on the back of his head. “whatever! i’m going to find maki. maybe she’ll wanna eat with me.”
“the third years aren’t gonna hang with you, loser,” yuji says, sticking his tongue out at her.
nobara responds by flicking him off over her shoulder. she’s already long gone by the time you and yuji bid your goodbyes. you take your time on the way back to your dorm, shuffling your feet against the pavement as slowly as you can. the last thing you want is to catch up to yuji on your way to the boys’ dormitory.
you take a quick look around once you start to get close to megumi’s dorm. the sun beams down at you and you begin to sweat nervously. you’ve done this plenty of times before, but it still makes your nerves jitter.
the coast is clear. the bushes don’t seem to be hiding anyone. there doesn’t seem to be a person hiding behind any corners. you make a run for it, nimbly skipping toward the boys’ dormitories. you make a beeline for megumi’s door, which is the furthest one at the end of the hall. yuji’s dorm is across from his, so you make sure your footsteps aren’t too loud. you tap on the doorframe four times, a signal you’d unknowingly came up with in the weeks you and megumi have snuck into each other’s rooms.
megumi swings the door open, his face brightening as he pulls you in. he wastes no time in burying himself into the crook of your neck, inhaling your comforting scent.
“god, i was hoping they’d leave without us back there,” he sighs into your neck. “it took you so long to shake ‘em off.”
your lips stretch into a pretty grin, and megumi nearly melts at the sight. you ruffle his hair and press a kiss onto his redden cheek. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”
megumi would’ve cringed had it been any other couple, but it’s you and him, and all the sweet words you two whisper make him adore the cheesiness of the relationship. he takes you by the hand and nearly crushes you as he lays the both of you down.
napping together is a common occurrence for the two of you. it’s not like you can waltz out with your fingers interlocked because gojo would make fun of you both for the rest of your lives. dating as a jujutsu sorcerer is hard enough, and you two would rather not add him into the mix.
“are you sleepy?” you ask softly. you’re trapped in between his toned arms, your face pressing into his firm chest.
he hums. “you mind?”
“not at all,” you say with a small laugh. “but you gotta get up before dinner, ‘kay?”
you feel him nod. “yeah, just wake me up.”
“‘kay.”
the silence is comfortable, as if you’ve known him for longer than you actually have. he lets himself go when he’s around you, and that fact makes you more prideful than it should. there’s something about megumi fushiguro allowing you to see his vulnerable side that makes you feel all the more important. the boy never, ever removes the scowl off his face unless he’s with you.
“need to take off my clothes,” you complain. “i’m all sweaty from today. gojo sensei had me run a few laps ‘cause nobara snitched about me returning to my room late.”
the corner of megumi’s mouth lifts. “that’s why i told you to leave before sunset. see what happens when you don’t listen?”
you shove his shoulder and unseal yourself from his hold, giving him a glare. “you were the one asking me to stay, you idiot. now give me a shirt.”
he pretends to be annoyed, mumbling something under his breath as he reaches for a shirt hung on the end of his headboard.
“a clean one.” you give him a pointed look.
“i thought you liked my smell?” he looks at you through his lashes.
“your smell, megumi, not your sweat,” you deadpan.
he lets out a laugh and it sounds like music to your ears. perhaps this is what the world means when they say love makes you a different person.
he obliges and walks to his drawer. megumi is changed himself: loose sweatpants hanging on his waist lowly. he has on a white t-shirt and the necklace you had gifted him a week prior. megumi hands you one of his sweaters, which is oversized, but it’s the best he can do. you’d rather not go back to your dorm to change.
megumi turns around so that you can change. he’s awkward and beet red, scratching his head in a moment of tenseness. you slip on his sweater and you’re immediately engulfed in his warm scent. the fabric nearly drowns you as you take off your pants.
“do you have any shorts?” you ask, scanning the room.
megumi’s back is still turned to you. “you took those ones back to your room, remember? did you bring them?”
you shake your head, but then remember that he can’t see you. you duck your head in embarrassment, laughing lightly. “nah, but it’s fine. the shirt’s basically a dress anyway.”
megumi hears the sheets rustle and makes a bold assumption to turn around. he’s met with you sprawled out on the bed, patting the empty space next to you as a wordless invitation.
his eyes crinkle when he grins, which is not something you see everyday. you savor the moment and engrave it into your memory. it’ll make you giddy when you remember it tonight as you get ready for bed.
“love you,” you whisper, making yourself comfortable in his embrace. you feel his fingers caress your arm in loving patterns.
megumi pauses for a split second, but it’s long enough for you to notice. he still has a hard time using his words, but you’re in no rush to change that part of him.
“i love you, too,” he replies in a small voice.
“when did you get so corny?” you tease, your eyes fluttering shut.
“you’re being irritating,” he says. you can tell just from the way he puffs out a little breath that he’s rolling his eyes in distaste. “it’s your fault for making me all gross and corny. yuji would never stop making fun of me if he saw us right now.”
“megumi!” a knock interrupts him. it’s yuji, who calls from outside the door. “gojo-sensei needs us real quick! read your damn text messages for once!”
megumi freezes and your head perks up. your eyes are wide with fear and slight amusement. this has never happened before. megumi presses a finger to your lips, shushing you, before he yells out an irritated, “what does he want?”
“he says we gotta go see him in his office! check your phone.” yuji’s voice is muffled. he bangs on the door once more.
your breathing is shallow. there’s a sort of excitement in the air at the thought of possibly being caught, but the anxiety of it all overpasses that. you refuse to move, afraid that the loud sheets will give it away to yuji that you’re in the same bed as megumi.
“is the door locked?” you whisper lowly.
megumi’s eyes narrow. “i… i think so. i don’t know.”
“what do you mean you don’t know?”
“i was excited to see you… i’m not—i don’t remember locking it.”
“i’m sure you did,” you convince yourself out loud, “you always do.”
“and tell y/n that she’s gotta come out too!” nobara’s voice rings out.
you feel your body grow hot in humiliation.
once you’re all in gojo’s office, the white-haired man gives you and megumi a hard stare. he has a lazy smirk plastered on his face, his blindfold pushed down on his neck solely so that he can show off the mischievous glint in his eyes.
“let me make one thing clear,” gojo begins, “no boys in the girls’ dorms.”
yuji scrunches his nose.
“and no girls in the boys’ dorms. we all know this already, don’t we?”
“duh. is that all?” nobara says, shifting her weight on to her left leg. she looks amused.
“y/n,” gojo says, causing your eyes to flicker up at him, “run 30 laps. you’ve broken the rules.”
your jaw drops open. it had been embarrassing enough to quickly throw on your pants and rush out of megumi’s room with nobara and yuji’s smug faces trailing behind you.
“no buts,” he adds when he notices your apprehension.
you frown.
“i’ll take half,” megumi mutters, the annoyance leaking into his tone. “she’ll do 15 and i’ll do 15. we both broke the rules, so punish us fairly.”
gojo’s smirk widens. “i wasn’t finished, fushiguro. you’re gonna run 30 as well… but i guess it’s 45 now? isn’t that sweet of you? protecting your girl~”
“gojo-sensei… y/n is wearing megumi’s shirt…” yuji pretends to gag. “we all know what that—”
megumi shoots a glare at him. if eyes could kill, yuji would be six feet under. “don’t be fucking gross, yuji. it’s not like that.”
you tug at his t-shirt, eyes averting gojo’s. megumi’s behavior is only going to punish the two of you more. the whole situation is already making you want to curl up into a ball and die, and you want it to be over with already.
“oh my god, you’re right, yuji. that’s…. that’s very scandalous.” nobara brings a hand to cover her opened mouth.
“don’t piss me off,” megumi threatens. “it’s not anything like what you two are thinking. don’t be weird about it.”
gojo opens his mouth to speak, but megumi is quicker. he drags you out of the office and the two of you make it to the track field. the red of the field matches the red in megumi’s face. it’s ridiculously hilarious now that you’re really looking at it.
“let’s run our laps. 15 for you, 45 for me.”
you giggle and pull him in for a kiss. “thank you, megumi, but i can handle 30 just fine. we just have to get better at sneaking around, don’t we?”
“yeah…” he says, his composure breaking. “ah, whatever. they know anyway. let’s just start going out, hm? they can’t control us outside of school grounds.”
from somewhere inside the school, you can hear nobara celebrate over winning $50.
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a/n: this was SO FUN TO WRITE. i have so many drafts and drabbles so i decided to just post one! none of it is canon blah blah idc IM A SUCKER FOR SOFT MEGUMI!!! he’s the epitome of “i hate everyone but you” HOPE U ENJOYED
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jjkamochoso · 2 months
Note
Hii!! I love your headcannons they are so adorable 😭
Can you maybe do one "how the jjk men will confess"??
Have a nice day!! ♡♡
Oh my gosh thank you so much😭 I’m glad you’re enjoying them!! Here’s your request—I hope you like it!!❤️
JJK Men and How They Confess They Like You
Warnings: slight cussing in Inumaki’s
Yuji: confesses during movie night
Since he’s such a happy go lucky guy, I think Yuji would definitely not realize he had a crush on one of his friends until the realization randomly struck him like a freight train because he just really enjoyed your company and didn’t think too much about how close you were. He didn’t know he was going to confess to you tonight, but when his feelings for you dawned on him, he couldn’t hold back.
“Ready to watch the movie?” he asked, a wide smile plastered on his face. You nodded and he started the film, snuggling into his seat. He didn’t know why, but tonight felt… different. When your fingers collided in the popcorn bowl, he was reluctant to pull away from your warm touch. He felt himself slowly move closer to you as the movie continued on. During a particularly gruesome scene, you found yourself yelping and shoving your face into his side while Yuji’s heart started beating faster than he ever thought possible. From that point on, Yuji understood that these feelings meant he had developed a huge crush on you. While the credits rolled, Yuji looked you dead in the eyes.
“Y/n, I really like you.”
“I’m here watching Human Earthworm with you, of course I like you too, Yuji.”
“Not like that,” he blurted, blushing slightly, “well, I mean yeah, I like you, but I also like like you. I think you’re really cute.”
“Well, you’re in luck, Itadori,” you replied to him, smiling softly and taking his hand. “I think you’re really cute too.”
Megumi: confesses accidentally
We all know Fushiguro can be a tad bit moody at times (and we love him for that!) and this attitude seeps into his love life as well. I can totally see him having a crush for a very long time and even taking that secret to the grave with him! However, in the heat of the moment of getting a bit frustrated with you, he accidentally tells you how he truly feels!
You and Megumi were polar opposites and you were extremely talented at getting under his skin. Of course, your teasing was all in good fun and you never took it too far (until today, that is).
“Aww, our little puffer fish is getting mad! You guys, we better watch out! The porcupine is gonna launch his needles at us!” You, Nobara, and Yuji were almost on the ground due to laughing too much while Megumi was royally pissed.
“Ugh! Y/n! You’re so frustrating, I don’t know why I love you!”
It got eerily quiet. Megumi would’ve loved the silence any other time except for the fact he just told you he loved you, out loud, in front of all his classmates. His face turned beet red as he hightailed it out of there, rushing to his room as fast as his legs could carry him. You and your friends looked at each other, all with wide eyes and gaping mouths.
“I guess this is the part where you go after him?” suggested Nobara and you agreed, chasing after Megumi. You took a shortcut across campus and beat him to his room, blocking the door so he had to face you.
“Megumi, wait,” you said, between pants from running so hard, “I’m sorry I made you bare your feelings like that in front of everyone but you have to know I feel the same.”
Yuta: confesses on a holiday
Yuta, imo, is the BIGGEST romantic! This lil lover boy would love to confess his feelings for you during the magic of any holiday you celebrate, no matter if it was Christmas or Greenery Day.
In the month leading up to your birthday, Yuta decided he finally wanted to confess his feelings for you so he began to plan out everything he needed to make sure the day was as special as you are. Enlisting the help of Maki, Panda, and Toge, he was able to figure out all of your favorite things, from food to colors to games, and went searching around the city to make sure he had everything he needed for the big day. When your birthday finally came and you had no plans, you were delighted when Yuta invited you to a game night at his room. When he opened the door to let you in, you were greeted with decorations in your favorite color, a spread of all your favorite foods, and your favorite board games were stacked up in the corner, waiting to be played. You were in complete shock when he presented you with a bouquet of flowers as well, a sheepish grin on his face.
“Happy birthday, y/n. I hope you like it.” He took a deep breath and then cleared his throat before speaking again. “I also wanted to tell you that I really like you. I’ve had a crush on you for a long time and I hope this isn’t too forward but I would love to take you on a date sometime if you’ll let me.”
You were trying not to cry as you took the bouquet from him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, his face tinting a slight pink. Yuta was the best gift you could ask for!
Inumaki: confesses with a boombox and a sign
Inumaki had it harder than anyone at the school with his inability to communicate in a conventional way and I feel like that would frustrate him a lot in his love life. I see him as the type of person to have lots of fun, though, and be super cheesy with his crush!
Inumaki couldn’t stand it anymore, he had to tell you how he felt. And by tell you, he was going to use words in a way he hoped you’d never seen before! On a warm Saturday night, you opened a text from Inumaki.
9:42 pm
From: Toge👅
u up? come to ur window
You had no idea what this was about but knowing Toge, you knew it’d be worth it. You sent back a “k😂” and were ready to open your blinds when you heard music blasting outside your room. Your window was opened in a flash and you were met with a sight you prayed never left your mind. Toge was standing there, a boombox held over his head and a shit eating grin on his face. Just like an 80’s movie, Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” was the song of choice for the evening. You were absolutely shocked by this declaration of love, but even more so when he put down the stereo and picked up some handwritten signs.
“I have a… major crush…on you… will you… go out… with me?” You read as he quickly shuffled through the pile.
“Yes! I will!” you yelled out, but he cupped his hand to his ear to gesture you to speak louder as the song was still blaring next to him. You laughed and rolled your eyes as you ran outside, turning off the music.
“Of course I’ll go out with you.”
Noritoshi: confesses as a secret admirer
Noritoshi seems like the type to never waste time on futile things like crushes, especially when his focus is on bettering himself as clan heir. However, if he does fall in love, I think of him as a secret admirer who anonymously confesses his feelings in notes.
Your heart quickened its pace when you noticed another neatly folded paper sticking out of your bag after packing up your things in the library. You had been receiving love notes from a secret admirer and you were over the moon about it! Written on the various papers had been poems, observations, and sweet words from which the mouth (or, I guess hand) is still a mystery to you. This time was no different as you unfolded a poem and a pressed flower. From across the room, Noritoshi stared you down, gauging your reaction to his letter. You seemed to like it! He felt his heart flutter and was torn between wishing this nagging feeling whenever he saw you would go away while also relishing in the idea that he was capable of being loved. He quickly turned back to his notes as he noticed you approaching his desk.
“Hey Kamo! I was wondering, do you know whose handwriting this might be?” you asked sweetly, handing him the note. He tried to act as nonchalant as possible as he skimmed it over, pretending to think. He shook his head.
“Nope. He seems to—I mean THEY seem to—really like you. I’m sorry, I wish I could help more but I’m studying at the moment.”
“Okay. Well, thanks anyway! I’m sure I’ll see you around,” you said, glancing down at the handwritten notes he was slyly trying to conceal. As you walked away, you smirked, knowing exactly who your secret admirer was.
Todo: confesses during a fight with a curse
I know this man has no hesitations and grabs life by the reins!! I think Todo would waste no time trying to gain your attention whenever he’s training or fighting a curse, hoping he could woo you with his wit and muscles. Since he’s able to get good reads on people, I could see him lowkey trying to confirm you liked him back before he asked you out to avoid any undue awkwardness (not that he’d feel any shame—I don’t think he has an ounce of that in his body). One day, while working on a particularly tiresome mission, Todo decided that now was the best time to confess his crush on you.
“Y/n-chan! I have an urgent question to ask you!” he yelled to you as you two were busy hitting the curse you were sent to kill.
“What’s wrong? you asked, concerned he’d hurt himself or something.
“Did you notice how perfect you looked before you left the house today?”
You faltered, stunned by Todo’s words. When the curse lunged at you, Todo switched places with you and landed the final blow as the curse finally lay dead. You shook your head in confusion.
“Todo, what are you talking about?”
“Y/n,” he said, in an uncharacteristically toned down voice, “I really like you. You’re a gorgeous person and I was wondering if you’d allow me to take you on a date.”
You released a sigh of relief, a huge smile on your face.
“I thought you would never ask! I would love nothing more.”
In his excitement, Todo picked you up and spun you around. He couldn’t wait to treat you like the royalty you are!
Gojo: confesses nervously
I know a lot of people think Gojo would be able to put on the moves to woo someone without a problem, but I think when it came down to truly baring his heart, Gojo would have a very difficult time. That’s why I see him as a nervous confessor. Not quite able to find the right words, but tries nonetheless.
Gojo had unique ways of showing his love for people he deeply cared about. One of those ways was flaunting his immense wealth. That’s how you, his closest colleague, found yourself invited to dinner with him at one of Tokyo’s fanciest restaurants. You were no stranger to Gojo’s jokingly flirtatious ways, but tonight felt different. It seemed like he was actually giving you genuine compliments, and every time you returned the favor, he would look away, a feeling of warmth spreading through his face and down his neck. Finally, when dessert came around, Gojo knew he couldn’t hold back anymore.
“Y/n, we’ve been friends for a long time, and I’ve loved every second of it. I just… I’ve been lying to you. And to myself. I…” He took a few deep breaths, trying to compose himself. You reached over the table to take hold of his hand and his heart was absolutely racing at the touch.
“Satoru, whatever it is, it’s okay,” you reassured him. He took in another swallow of air as he lifted off his blindfold to look you in your eyes.
“What I’m trying to say is, I’ve fallen for you, y/n. I hope you understand what I mean.” His bright blue eyes were shining in a way you’d never seen before but hoped you could witness time and time again.
“I understand you, Satoru, I always have. I love you too.”
Geto: confesses while out on a walk
I believe Suguru to be the suavest out of all the JJK men. As he got older, his air of nonchalance leads me to believe that if he caught feelings, he’d be quick to tell the person how he feels and would do so in a classic, mature way.
You had been part of Geto’s group of curse users for a long time and had been close with the leader himself for most of that time. One day, while you were training your cursed technique, Suguru was watching you with great interest. When you were finished, you were greeted with clapping hands and a big smile.
“Y/n! Great job as always. Come, take a walk with me,” he said, motioning you over to him. You obliged, taking hold of his outstretched arm. You two talked about random things you had dealt with throughout the week, feeling weights being lifted off your shoulders by being able to talk through these things with someone else. Geto was thrilled you had understood him and his worldview all those years ago because he felt like he finally had someone he could trust again. As you two made your way along the path, Geto stopped to pick a wildflower and presented it to you.
“I have lots of respect for you, y/n. I appreciate all the time we have spent together over the years and now I have something to confess. I believe I’ve fallen in love with you.” He gently brushed a piece of hair away from your face and placed the flower behind your ear. “Please let me know if you feel the same. If you don’t, I promise to never make mention of this again.”
You reached your hands up to cup Geto’s face, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone.
“I’m in love with you too… Suguru.”
Nanami: confesses over breakfast
Nanami is definitely another classically romantic man. I feel like he would be hesitant to tell you how he feels since the life of a jujutsu sorcerer is not easy and only ends in suffering, but eventually he would come to the conclusion that he’d rather live without any more regrets so he’d keep the confession simple with an act of service.
Nanami knew you like the back of his hand. He knew all your likes and dislikes, your favorite songs, what cat breeds you thought were the cutest. He also knew you were hopelessly, chronically late to work. As someone who respects the sanctity of time, he could never understand you (the biggest mystery was how a teacher who lived on campus could be late to work almost everyday), but he liked to help you out anyway. He would always pick up breakfast from his favorite cafe and leave it on your desk for you to enjoy. Today was a late start day for the school, and since he knew you so well, knew you wouldn’t have checked your email to see you didn’t need to come in at your normal time so when you came barreling in a minute before class started, you were greeted by Nanami sitting on your desk.
“It’s a late start day,” he said, a ghost of a smile on his lips. You groaned in frustration.
“Of course it is! The one time I’m here on time,” you grumbled, sitting next to him.
“You’re cute when you’re disgruntled,” Nanami said, blushing when he realized he said that out loud. You tilted your head at him.
“I’m only cute when I’m disgruntled?” you teased, “That’s too bad. I think you’re cute all the time.” Nanami couldn’t believe what he just heard. You actually liked him back? He gestured to the bags and two coffees that were laid out on another desk.
“I brought us breakfast. May I join you to see if I think you’re cute while you’re eating?”
Choso: confesses with a plushie !! ^^
Oh my GOD I think Choso would have no clue what to do when he realized he liked you so who would he turn to for guidance? Yuji of course! And I think Yuji would suggest buying you a plushie instead of Choso’s suggestion of a wedding ring (at least he’s passionate🤷‍♀️).
Choso decided to drop by your office at the Tokyo jujutsu school to tell you he liked you and give you your gift. He sat on the floor next to the door, the plushie being held with a death grip in his large hands. As soon as he spotted you walking down the hallway, he clamored to get up.
“Choso! Hi! I wasn’t expecting you! Yuji just got out of class if you want to go see him,” you said, giving him a kind smile. Choso was extremely nervous but trying not to show it.
“Actually, I’m here for you. Y/n,” he got down on one knee, thrusting the plushie toward your shocked face, “you are unlike any person I have met before. You have taken over every one of my thoughts and my heart is no longer my own—it belongs to you. Please, will you accept this token of my love?” The token in question was a dog plushie with a bone in its mouth that said “I ruff you!” You took the plushie from his hands as he looked longingly in your eyes.
“I really like you, Choso. Of course I’ll accept it.”
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sttoru · 9 months
Text
“SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS.”
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ෆ sypnosis. satoru returns to the dorms with a random child one day, leaving you confused as to who it may be.
ෆ note. uhmmm teenage satoru taking care megumi while in high school … found family… sonsobsobs.
ෆ tags. teen!satoru x female teen!reader (romantic or platonic, up to you). fluff, bits of angst, comfort, spoilers manga/anime, you n satoru are classmates, found family trope.
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“satoru, you can’t just kidnap a kid.”
you stare at the little kid that satoru had randomly brought into your dorm room. the boy, who had a black spiky hair cut, seemed to be around the age a first grader would be.
he was standing behind satoru’s tall legs, looking up at you with an indifferent gaze. he wasn’t talkative either which you hadn’t expected from a small child.
“i didn’t kidnap him,” satoru scoffs, placing the boy’s bag on the floor near the front door, “i actually saved the kiddo.”
“pff, yeah, right.” you dismiss satoru’s dramatic words as you kneel down to be at eye level with the little boy, “what’s your name?”
“megumi.” the kid answers in a quiet tone. he didn’t seem to be scared nor nervous about being brought here by a stranger.
you look from megumi towards satoru, who was staring down at the two of you—laid back as per usual. his hands were in his uniform’s pockets, body leaning against the wall.
the two boys seemed pretty relaxed about everything based on the way they were acting. and there you were, the confused and clueless one of the trio, “did you bribe the child with candy or something?”
“i wouldn’t fall for that.” megumi unexpectedly replies, earning a slight giggle from satoru and a mildly shocked expression from you.
“plus, if i had a choice, i definitely wouldn’t have left with a weird guy like him.” the little boy adds with a blank expression, though you could see the subtle side eye he was giving your classmate.
“hey!” satoru’s grin immediately transforms upside down, “now ya listen here, brat.”
he frowns and points a finger at the child; like a father disciplining his disobedient kid.
the difference between the two being that satoru was failing horribly. the only thing satoru could reply with was a small ‘tsk,’ and a mumble about how ‘little kids these days are extremely disrespectful.’
“respect is earned.” megumi answers matter-of-factly once he had caught on what satoru muttered under his breath.
“hey, hey, hey.” you interrupt before things escalated any further, “that’s enough.”
you were secretly amazed at megumi’s advanced vocabulary at such a young age. not that you’d say that right during a situation like this. satoru might even throw a dramatic and childish tantrum about it and assume that ‘you’ve taken sides’.
“alright, give us a minute, megumi. i need to have a small talk with satoru.”
you flash megumi a warm smile to which he quietly nodded. he seems to listen to your words without hesitation; a great sign that he was getting a bit more comfortable.
“come here and explain this entire thing.” you then whisper to the white-haired man, grabbing his arm and pulling him further into your dorm room.
you noticed the way satoru was still huffing and puffing, acting like a bigger child than the actual one standing at the front door.
satoru reluctantly plopped down at the edge of your bed. he was leaning back against his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him.
“ya know that one guy, right?” he starts off vaguely and in a small voice so megumi wouldn’t be able to overhear the conversation, “the assassin from the zen’in clan that attacked geto and me within the jujutsu barrier.”
“…yeah.”
you saw the slight change in satoru’s expression. it was clear he was not too fond of thinking back to that incident, no matter how many times he may try to act tough on the outside and say that it wasn’t that big of a deal.
not that you’d blame him either; you’ve heard a few gruesome rumours about how that fight went down. you weren’t there when it actually happened (hanging out with shoko instead), so you can only ever imagine the pain geto and him went through.
“well, that’s his kid.” satoru answers with a sigh, cocking his head to the right towards megumi standing in the distance.
your jaw almost drops to the floor at the reveal. you looked from megumi to satoru and back, wondering how he had even found the child.
satoru takes off his glasses, playing with them a little before going on to tell the rest of the story.
he tells you about toji’s last words, the sum of money the zen’in clan offered toji for his child to be sold to them, the inherited techniques megumi has and the fact that toji had left megumi alone with his half-sister to fend for themselves.
after the thorough explanation, you sat there silently on your bed, staring at your socks. there truly weren’t any right words to say to all the information given to you. the only thing you confidently could say was that you were feeling sorry for the kids.
“so..” you clear your throat, tilting your head up to see look at satoru, “you’re gonna take care of him now?”
“and his sis, yeah.” satoru shrugs as he puts his glasses back on and runs a hand through his hair.
“i wasn’t not gonna leave the brat behind.” he adds with a sigh, “enough adults have failed him and ‘m not planning on being one of ‘m.”
you smile to yourself as your gaze lingered on the boy next to you. ‘adult’, huh? you thought to yourself.
satoru’s just a teenager himself, though when it comes to taking care of others, he seems more mature than ever. he’s caring, loving and affectionate, all in his own unique way.
satoru finally looked back to see if megumi was still at the front door. to both his and your surprise, the kid had walked further into your spacious room.
your eyes immediately noticed that megumi had politely placed his shoes near the entrance, along with his jacket which was neatly folded on a chair. megumi had great manners and it showed.
“what’cha doin’, kiddo?” satoru asks as he stands up from the bed and walks over to megumi who had taken an interest in the aquarium you had placed in a far corner.
as expected, megumi didn’t react to satoru’s words and just continued to stare at the fish swimming around; his eyes glimmering due to the lights reflecting off the glass.
“don’t ignore me.” satoru scolds the kid while ruffling his black hair. it wasn’t really a scolding, more of a soft and gentle reminder which didn’t hold much meaning.
you join the two and stand next to satoru behind megumi, “do you like the fish?”
“i do.” the first grader nods at your question, making satoru whine as he took great offense at the fact that a small kid was purposely ignoring him.
“oh, so you can respond to her and not me? ‘m feeling, like, suuuper offended right now. can you believe it?” satoru continues his small tantrum with a pout.
judging purely by personality, you could say that megumi was acting the adult part right now.
“grow up, satoru.” you tease with a sigh.
“you’re taking sides!”
there it was; satoru’s one and only defence which you had heard plenty of times before during his many childish arguments. you just giggle at satoru’s pouting and whining, letting him continue complaining to himself.
your eyes focus back on megumi. you couldn’t see his face from the angle you were in, however you caught a quick glimpse of his reflection in the glass of the aquarium.
the kid somehow seemed more at ease now; he even had a small smile on his face. you didn’t know if it was because of satoru’s bickering or due to the enjoyment of watching the fish in the water.
satoru’s voice slowly trailed off once he noticed the kid—who hadn’t smiled once since meeting him— finally show an ounce of joy.
he parted his lips to say something, however was quickly interrupted by you nudging his side with your shoulder as a sign to let megumi enjoy the moment.
the white-haired male shut his mouth immediately and grinned from ear to ear, forgetting his own tantrum as the three of you now silently stared at the small aquarium.
it seemed like megumi had found his forever home.
and it didn’t seem like he was the only one either.
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