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obsesssedblerd · 29 days

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Part Four: "I promise, I'll make this right."

- the jjk men promising to be a better partner for you after they forget your anniversary.

final written part of this smau series.

Pt 1: Toji, Nanami, Geto, and Sukuna

update: gojo, shiu and choso here

contains: angst to comfort

a/n: AHHHHH FINALLY!!!! here's part one! sorry for any mistakes!

thank you so much for being patient. I appreciate it. <3

---

TOJI

Before you can even knock on the door to Toji’s house, it flies open. Five year-old Megumi drops his dog plushie and rushes to hug your legs, his body shaking as he looks up at you with teary eyes. “Where’d you go? I was scared that you weren’t coming back.”

“Aw, Gumi,” you sigh, reaching down to pick him up so you could hug him closer to you. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“Please don’t leave,” he whimpers between sniffles. “Me, Tsumiki and Papa would be so sad. He’s already sad. He was crying yesterday.”

You knew it. You thought your mind was playing tricks on you when Toji came to see you yesterday, but you heard correctly—he was crying. Your heart aches at the utter fear in Megumi’s voice, and the way he’s clinging to you, like he’s certain that you’d disappear if he didn’t. You had greatly underestimated how much you meant to him.

“Megs?! You can’t just open the door for anyone! It’s dangerous—” Toji gasps when he comes downstairs and sees you there, holding Megumi and comforting him. He stands there frozen, eyes wide with disbelief.

One look at his eyes confirms what you heard last night. They were a little red and slightly puffy.

“Sweetheart,” you whisper to the boy in your arms, “I need to talk to your dad, alright? Why don’t you head back inside?”

He nods, and you set him on his feet. “Sorry, Papa,” he mutters to Toji as he uses his sleeve to wipe his eyes.

Toji smiles softly at him and ruffles his spiky hair. “It’s okay.”

Once Megumi is inside, you and Toji stand next to each other on the porch. You think about what life’s been like the last few days. The anger, the arguing. The hurt. Perhaps this was the hardest part—accepting that you can’t keep pretending that everything is alright, no matter how much you love Toji.

A warm, comforting hand intertwined with yours, and it shakes you from your thoughts. “We have to talk about this,” Toji starts. “I can’t let this happen.”

You exhale. “Toji.”

“I do not care what needs to be done. I’ll do it,” he says, his voice thick with determination.

You glare at him. “I meant it when I said that I’m tired.”

“And I meant it when I said that I’m not letting you walk away,” he bites back, then takes a small, shaky breath. “Yes, I was crying yesterday,” he admits. “I was crying because you’re considering leaving me, and it terrifies me so much more than I thought it does. Treating you like you don’t matter to me by always hanging out with my friends, along with forgetting our anniversary is such a shitty thing to do, and I know that there’s nothing I can do or say to undo that.” He then squeezes your hand gently, desperately. “But I’m going to try to make it right by keeping my promise to you and being a better man for you.”

You want to say something, but your eyes pool with tears, so you face the ground instead. It’s so frustrating. You want this to work. You love him, and walking away from him will destroy you, but you also didn’t know if it could work. What if he chooses his friends again? What if he continues forgetting you? What if none of this is worth it and—

“Look at me.” His voice is soft, yet firm.

You shake your head.

“Baby, please, look at me.”

You muster the strength to meet his eyes, and his thumbs tenderly swipe underneath yours to wipe away the tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, slightly leaning forward so your foreheads are touching. “I’m so sorry. I swear to you, I’ll never do this shit to you again.”

You’re quiet for a while, then you tell him, “If it does happen again, then I’m done.”

“Deal.”

He pulls you to him, and you feel his body relaxing into yours. When you hear him sniffle, you begin to pull back, but he only holds you tighter. He’s crying again, and he doesn’t want you to see. “No,” he tells you in a quivering whisper. “Just let me hold you for a minute.”

“Toji-”

“I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you disappeared. Not to mention figure out a way to break it down to Megumi and Tsumiki.” At the mention of his kids, he sniffles again. “Especially Megumi. Fuck, if you left, I don’t think he’d ever forgive me, or smile again. You make him so happy and comfortable.”

You let him take his time, and relax your head on his shoulder. Once he’s calm again, he pulls away to look at you. “Give me a day to find a new restaurant for our anniversary, and find a babysitter for the kids. Then, I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes. I’m going all out to make this up to you. You’re crazy if you think all you’re getting is a dinner after I fucked up this badly.”

---

NANAMI

Though you were super upset with him, you still dreamed of Kento. You dreamed of hefty, detailed conversations that weren’t rushed, long walks along the sandy beaches of Malaysia, private moments that had no chance of being interrupted, and plenty of time to do nothing at all.

When you awoke from your dreams and remembered that he made the decision to spend his only free moment with Shoko and not you on your anniversary, your heart ached brutally within your chest. Is this how it was going to be forever? Are you going to spend your entire relationship wishing to be with him rather than actually spending time with him?

You know that you have to talk to him; you’re just unsure of what you’re going to say. A part of you has accepted that Kento Nanami is simply too busy for a relationship with you, and that he’d rather spend his limited free time relaxing.

You sit in your car, which is parked outside of the house that you and Kento share. Maybe it was best for you two to split ways. You could break the news, then move out within a month. You have plenty of money in your savings, and resources to help you find a new place fast.

Okay, you think to yourself. Time to go. You exit your car, then walk in towards the front door, your hands shaking while reaching for your keys. When you finally unlock the door and step inside, you stop in your tracks. The living room of your house is beautifully decorated with red and gold balloons and streamers, and there’s rose petals sprinkled on the floor. On the table, there’s a massive, luxurious bouquet of roses in a glass vase, and a box of chocolate covered fruit next to it. There’s also various gift bags neatly arranged on the couch and the floor.

You expected this.

“Love, is that you?” You hear Kento’s voice come from the kitchen, and then he appears in the doorway, his shoulders slumping when he sees you. He’s holding another gift bag, and it looks like he was getting ready to place it with the rest.

“Kento, I-”

“No, sweetheart, please.” He sighs, then walks over to you. “Please allow me to explain myself.”

“There’s nothing that needs to be explained. You missed our anniversary.”

He grabs your hand when you start walking in the other direction. “And I’m so sorry for it. I’m extremely disappointed in myself for missing the dinner you had planned. I promise-”

“Yeah, that’s the thing, Kento. You keep promising, but you never deliver on those promises!” You snap, whirling around to face him. “You promise me that you’re going to work less so we can spend time together, but you never do. You promise me that things are going to change, but they never do. You promised me one night, which was all I wanted, and you missed it. I took care of everything else so all you had to do was just show up, but even that was too much for you!”

Kento goes quiet, his honey brown eyes full of desperation as he squeezes your hand gently. “I know,” he says softly. “You’re right. I’ve made promises, and I never delivered. It’s incredibly selfish to ask for more when you’ve already given so much without me returning any of it. It got so bad to the point where you believe that asking for one night is asking for too much, even though you deserve far more than that. I understand all of it, love, and I know why you feel like a break-up is the only option, but… I can’t let you go. I’d be so lost without you. Keeping you requires change, and I’m going to change things, starting now, if you grant me another chance.”

When you don’t answer, he continues, “You’ve been gone for so long. I spent hours sitting here, right on this couch, waiting for you to walk through the door. I was beginning to think that you wouldn’t. I felt sick, and I couldn’t sleep. I don’t want to get used to you not being here anymore. I don’t want to live a life where you’re not here by my side. I love you. I’m so sorry for taking you for granted. I have a lot to prove to you, and if you give me another chance, I’ll do it, no matter how long it might take. I won your heart once, and I’ll win it again.”

You’re still quiet, but Kento doesn’t press you. Instead, he brings your hand to his mouth and places a light kiss on it. “I have two months off,” he says softly. “Come to Malaysia with me.”

That surprises you. You blink in shock, then meet his eyes. “What??? Is two months even possible? But Kento, what about your job? Isn’t there something big happening in Shibuya?”

“I told Yaga that I needed time off, so I got unassigned from that. Since I have had plenty of PTO earned over the years, it’s no problem,” he says simply, then gestures to the room full of presents. “Gifts mean nothing when what you crave the most is time with me. So, I want to give you that, like I should’ve done so long ago. Come to Malaysia with me, and I’ll earn you back there. Just me and you. No sorcerer stuff, no students, no interruptions.”

“But-”

“Sweetheart.” His voice is slightly shaky. “I always keep saying how I’d be spending more time with you after just one more mission.” His eyes drift downward. “But as a sorcerer, there’s no guarantee that I’ll come home every single time. There might be a mission where I don’t make it back, and I’ll regret all of the time I didn’t get to spend with you.”

Your heart suddenly feels heavy. You hate talking about this stuff with him. You can’t imagine getting a phone call and hearing that he died on a mission. However, he’s right. There isn’t a guarantee, and you would be stupid to think that there is.

He strokes your cheek tenderly, and it pulls you back to reality. “Come with me,” he says. “Let it be the start of me not only making this up to you, but also changing like I talked about earlier.”

Time alone, completely uninterrupted. It’s all you ever wanted. You know that it would take time to return to good terms, but like he said, it’s a start.

“Okay,” you say, and he sighs in relief before pulling you into his arms. “Thank you,” he whispers. “I promise, I won’t mess this up.”

---

GETO

Shoko lightly taps your shoulder, and it snaps you from your daydream. You look up at her, and she takes the cold cup of coffee from your arms. “You’re spaced out,” she says. “It’s obvious that you’re not going to drink this.”

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Don’t apologize. These last few days have been hard for you.” Shoko disposes of the coffee, then begins washing the mug. “Have you talked to him since?”

“No.”

“Well, what are you thinking?”

For the millionth time, you reread the last few messages between you and Suguru. He was right about you not trusting him, and it seemed like he took accountability for his actions. However, you’re still hurt. You think you’re going to be hurt about this for a very, very long time. Just thinking about how you spent a while at the restaurant anxiously checking the time, waiting for him to show up, has you falling silent again.

“Hey,” Shoko sighs as she rubs your back. “It’s alright if you don’t know right now. You might have an answer when you see him-”

A sudden knock at the door has both of you straightening up. Your eyebrows furrow, and you point towards the door. “Did you text him?”

“No. I was just about to ask you that,” she says.

You two approach the door, and you hear voices coming from the other side of it.

“Satoru, this is a bad idea. She said that she-”

“Lalalalala! I’m not listening!”

“Satoru.”

“Look, I don’t care! You should’ve done this days ago after forgetting the damn anniversary, dumbass. Me, Nanako, and Mimiko are tired of listening to you cryin’ in the shower.”

Shoko facepalms. “Idiots. Both of them.” She opens the door, and Satoru grins, his blue eyes glimmering from behind his glasses. “Well, look who it is!”

Suguru, your boyfriend, is nervously scratching the back of his head. You can tell he wants to say something, but doesn’t know what. Shoko looks over at you, and you nod that it’s okay. She nods in return, then pokes Satoru’s chest. “C’mon, let’s walk up the street to the bakery and give them a minute.”

“Yes!” Satoru cheers, then waves at you before shoving Suguru inside and closing the door to Shoko’s apartment behind him.

Suguru groans in annoyance. “I’m sorry. I know you needed time, but that asshole teleported us here before I could even-”

“It’s okay,” you tell him as you sit on the couch. Half a minute later, he hesitantly sits next to you, relaxing into the cushion when he sees that you don’t move away from him.

“Angel,” he starts, and like always, your heart jumps at the nickname. “I’m so sorry that I did this to you.”

You wave him off. “Suguru, you’ve apologized enough.”

“No, you’re saying that because you’re drained. There’s no way I can apologize enough for missing our anniversary. I don’t blame you for being upset or for contemplating a break-up. Anyone would. That’s why I told you that I’m willing to earn your trust back. It’s going to take a lot, and I’m okay with that, if you’re willing to give me another chance.”

“But what if this is nothing but a waste of time?” You ask.

He sits up, determined. “It won’t be. I won’t let this happen again.” When you don’t reply, he places his hand on top of yours. “I missed you. Every day, Nanako and Mimiko asked about you. Our little home isn’t the same without you there. I’m so sorry that I missed your dinner. If you give me another chance, I’ll do better.”

Without even knowing, you lace your fingers with his. Though you’re mad at him, you’ve also missed him. But, you miss the Suguru who spent so much time with you towards the beginning of your relationship. You wondered if you’d ever see him again.

“Hey.” You look towards Suguru, and he brushes his thumb over yours. “You know that I won’t force or pressure you,” he says calmly, even though his voice shakes. “I messed up badly and hurt you. If you truly want to end this, I understand, but-”

“Suguru,” you cut him off loudly. “I just want my boyfriend to choose me as often as he chooses his friends. It feels like you only consider me when they’re not available, and it got so bad that you forgot our anniversary.”

“And I’ll do that, and so much more,” he says firmly. “I know that I promised you before to spend more time with you. There’s so much that I need to make up to you.”

More promises. Though you’re hopeful, you’re also nervous.

“If I mess up this badly again, I’ll let you go. I won’t argue, I won’t fight it,” he proposes.

“Alright,” you mumble. “One chance.”

“All I need. Thank you.” Suguru carefully grabs your wrist, then tugs you into his arms. You breathe in his scent, and your body settles comfortably into his.

“Don’t make me regret this, Suguru Geto.”

“I won’t. Now come on, I have some promises to keep.”

You text Shoko that you’re locking up her apartment when you and Suguru leave, then you let Suguru take you outside.

---

SUKUNA

It’s well after midnight when you return to Sukuna’s estate. You walk the familiar hallways until you find your way to the garden. You sit on the dewy grass, and exhale slowly, enjoying the night air.

You don’t go looking for him. You know that he’ll sense you here and come find you.

The tiny bursts of light get your attention. Fireflies. He was right, they are out. You were surprised when Ryomen Sukuna told you that he remembered your love for them. After he forgot your anniversary, you were convinced that he just simply didn’t care about you, especially when he said that he only remembered things that were important to him.

Suddenly, the air around you thickens as you sense his presence. He’s here.

“You’re back,” Sukuna says from behind you. He sounds a bit uncertain.

“No point in staying out forever,” you reply flatly.

He doesn’t respond. He joins you on the ground, and you feel him watching you closely. You stare at the ground, your fingers lightly stroking the blades of grass.

“But if I did decide to stay away,” you start, still facing the grass, “would you have let me go?”

“Not if there was a possibility of earning another chance.”

You finally look up at him, and before you can say another word, he gently puts a finger to your lips. “You are here, so I’d rather not waste time talking about hypothetical situations where you are not here.”

You shrug, then look away again. Truthfully, you didn’t know what to expect when coming back here. The King of Curses was anything but an easy partner to have a relationship with. You didn’t know why you, a mere sorcerer, loved him, but you did; so much and so deeply that it hurt to breathe sometimes. You know that he sees nearly everyone beneath him, but you thought that he at least respected you enough to show up for the dinner you planned. Maybe you’re foolish for returning.

“I hated every second that you were gone,” he says. Usually, Sukuna doesn’t admit to anything like that. It feels nice hearing it. “This place is so quiet without you.”

A breeze blows in the garden, and it’s chilly enough to make you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself. Sukuna uses an arm to pull you closer, and you settle into his warm body with a small, relieved sigh. Your back falls against his chest, and you feel his chin rest atop your head.

“There is something I haven’t told you,” he mutters.

“What is it?”

“A year ago, right here in this spot, I realized that it was love.” Your eyes slightly widen, but you don’t stop him. “You were watching the fireflies and explaining some memories you had about them from your childhood. So simple and so harmless, yet it felt like my entire soul had shifted when I finally figured it out. Then it hit me again when I watched you play with Yuuji in the rain, then once more when I held your hand while you slept. It also hit me when you left, and I spent the last few nights feeling your soul tremble as you cried, knowing that I caused it.”

Sukuna gives your shoulder a little squeeze, then fully wraps his arms around you. “Perhaps if I had told you these discoveries of mine the moment I had them,” he explains, “then you would have never questioned your importance. You have no idea how much you mean because I have not told you. That, in addition to this situation, is my fault.”

Something within you cracks, and a new wave of tears rush to your eyes. You blink them away, deciding that you’ve cried enough in the last few days.

“Forgive me, petal,” he whispers. “I know you believe that I missed the dinner you planned on purpose so I could hurt you, but that is not true. It will never happen again. You have my word.”

When you tilt your head up to look up at him, you’re met with his gorgeous, crimson eyes. Your king was evil, no doubt, but you always believed that he was the most beautiful being you’ve ever laid your eyes on. You nod once, and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Come with me,” he tells you.

“Where are we going?”

He stands up, then lifts you into his arms. “You need to rest, and I would like for you to do so with me so I can have you close. Then tomorrow, I will begin to make this up to you, like I promised.” As he carries you inside, you rest your head against his shoulder. “Happy anniversary, petal.”

Finally, you smile. “Happy anniversary, Ryomen.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #written by rey <3 #sukuna x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #nanami x you #sukuna x you #geto x you #suguru geto #kento nanami #toji fushiguro #ryomen sukuna

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incognit0slut · 10 months

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All I Need

Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love? Based on:

Warnings: 18+ mature content but nothing too explicit, this is just sweet love making

words: 2077

A/n: I’m supposed to finish my last kinktober and update my series, but both are very heavy and I needed something sweet to defrost my writer's block. I hope you don’t mind me squeezing something else until I finish my other WIPs🥲

“…every time I look into your eyes I see it, you’re all I need…”

SPENCER KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. There wasn't a single thing he wasn't familiar with—from every mole, every scar, to every stretch mark. Any imperfection you considered of yourself he found to be perfect.

He was well aware of the small scar on your hip bone. Or the mole resting at the back of your thigh. Or the way you disliked caffeine, because every time you drank it, it increased your heart rate drastically. Which was why you always judged him every time he had a cup of coffee in his hand, especially with the amount of sugar he never seemed to stop adding.

"That is definitely not healthy," you would always say, to which he simply responded with a small peck on your lips. It was his way to shut you up without saying anything.

He also knew how soft you actually were underneath that hard exterior you always carried. You were an enigma the first time you joined the team, but Spencer always had a soft spot for mystery, and solving you became his mission even when he wasn't the best at maintaining conversations. He remembered making a fool of himself when he talked to you, stuttering about one of the random facts engraved in his brain.

But you still listened to him, and for once in his life, he finally found someone who didn't mind hearing him talk. It was nice to have somebody who found his knowledge interesting, and with that thought in mind, it didn't take long for him to take an interest in you.

Not that he wasn't interested at first, because honestly, you were a splendid sight when you first walked through the door. It was more so an interest that was considered surpassing a simple friendship. An interest that had him push his confidence into asking you out.

Spencer never pegged himself as someone who would be content having a significant other in his daily routine—his past relationships never seemed to work out, after all—but the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he was actually in pure bliss. It seemed as if you had cast a spell, drawing him deeper into your presence, a magnetic force of affection that went beyond the superficial. Every smile, every touch, seemed to emanate a radiant heat, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnitude of your warmth.

Especially at this moment, staring into your eyes as they slowly fluttered open from a long night of slumber, he found himself leaning forward. You were so warm, so inviting. The soft light coming from the curtains cast a shadow over your curves and he couldn't help himself from trailing down your body.

You were fully awake now as he pressed his lips on every part of your skin. The slight movement of your arms wrapping around his neck had him grunting, and somehow he was suddenly positioned between your legs, pressing his hot length onto your wet folds, wanting nothing else but to push himself deep into your warmth.

As he watched you beneath him, eyes half closed, mouth open in anticipation, he couldn't help but mutter his next words because you looked breathtakingly beautiful. Heavenly gorgeous covered in a sheen of sweat, so damn pretty with eyes full of desire. You looked like a siren, an angel, and a lustful woman all rolled into one.

Everything about you was so divine, and the desire to consume every part of your existence became an insatiable hunger. It was a need, a yearning that made the idea of spending a lifetime without you seem unfathomable as if oxygen slowly drained from his world, leaving him breathless.

The words bubbled up from the depths of his heart, and before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Marry me."

Your eyes snapped open as he finally sank his hips into you, and before you could even respond, before you could even register his words, his rough thrust stole the breath from your lungs. Rational thoughts shattered as he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was slightly painful yet completely pleasurable.

He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in, your back arching, legs wrapping around his waist. "Spence," you moaned as he started a steady pace, trying to gain your focus but failing miserably. You couldn't think of anything else except the sensation between your legs. "Oh, God."

Languid and smooth, his hips continued to roll into you. "This feels good, doesn't it?"

The feel of his cock sinking in and out of you had your head falling back against the mattress. Your fingernails tightened upon his back, and he drove you gently into the bed with low grunts. His voice was rough, broken by focused breaths. "We could do this every morning."

A whine broke out of you.

"I'd wake up first," he told you. "I'd make you breakfast in bed..." He slipped out again before thrusting into you slowly, dragging his cock along your inner walls that had you mewling. "...right after I wake you with my tongue between your thighs."

You let out another moan. He drank in the sound with a smile before lowering his mouth to the base of your neck. Heated kisses trailed along your skin as his fingers trailed down the outline of your body before they stopped at the warmth between your legs.

Your mouth was wide open against his shoulder, eyes watering with the force of pleasure from having his cock smacking through your wetness, his body forcefully shoving your knees apart. You felt his fingers trailing your clit in slow circles and you arched your back, each tender brush tightened that coil of heat simmering in the pit of your stomach. The simulation drove you further into a haze of pleasure that a soft yes finally escaped your lips without you realizing it.

The barely whispered word didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Yes to this," he wondered as prompted his weight on his other hand. "Or to my proposal?"

You glanced up at him, your face a mixture of pleasure and alarm as you gave him a look. "You're crazy."

He watched you closely, mesmerized by the way your hips were bucking every time his cock hit that soft spot inside you while his fingers continued their tease. "Maybe." He leaned down and softly bit your shoulder. "But I am crazy in love with you."

When you didn't respond, he slowly pulled away and fixed his gaze on you. Your reaction, or lack thereof, spoke volumes, and as his eyes met yours, he found himself captivated by the reflective pools of emotion within. There was a hint of fear and concern, shadows that danced with the flicker of uncertainty. Yet, beneath those layers, he could see the distinct longing in your eyes. It was hard not to distinguish it as it matched the same look in his. Your stare was warm and domineering.

They were so full of love.

And that moment, Spencer realized, that was what you were to him—love. You were the greatest passion he had ever known.

You felt completely in the moment with him as you let your gaze scan over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room, but you could still see the soft lightness of them. Then, you leaned up, noses brushing gently against each other before you pressed your lips onto his. His body moved again in response, hips bucking into you and you felt him pulsing inside your core as his mouth worked harmoniously along yours.

"Marry." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.

You whimpered. Everything was too much. The intensity of the pleasure was almost intoxicating, a heady concoction that wrapped around you, rendering you momentarily breathless.

"Having you for the rest of my life is a privilege." He continued, grunting as you clenched around him. He lost himself with one final, jagged plea. "Marry me and make me the happiest man alive."

His words, touch, and the stroke of him inside you—it all blurred together. It pushed you so wildly that the coil in your stomach twisted sharply through along your body. He lunged down to kiss you again, tongue pushing deep as he stole your moan before it could break into the air. He tugged you into him at the same time that you submitted to his pull.

There were times when you would appreciate this. The contact, the intimacy, the warmth of your boyfriend connected with you. Right now though, you needed release. So you buried your hand in his curls, all messy and askew.

"Spencer," you breathed out against his lips. Each of his thrusts fed the growing flame in your body as your body turned pliant for him. “Oh god, yes,” you cried, head thrashing side to side as your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by pleasure.

He peppered kisses over your neck, your jaw, your temple, desperate to be even closer to you, to melt into you. "Yes to what?"

Your senses were heightened, every touch and every breath seemed magnified in the intensity of the moment. Your body shuddered with every vicious thrust.

"Yes, yes, yes." A desperate, needy little whine slipped past your lips and you opened your eyes wide to give him a pleading look. "Spencer, please, please."

You were panting, your breath hot and your skin even hotter, and you could barely hear him when he spoke, "Yes to what, Angel?"

Angel. The syllables carried a warmth that resonated deep within your heart. Sometimes you were his Angel. Sometimes you were his Sweetheart. While you cherished the way he expressed his affection, a yearning for more had taken root.

Marry me.

You could be more than his angel. You could be his wife. But it wasn't just about the affectionate words anymore; it was about a promise, a shared future, and you realized as he hovered above you, all sweaty and desperate, that you wanted to feel this bliss every day. How could you not when he fits so perfectly inside you that you could swear he was made for you?

And then you felt it, his hand trailing down your arm before it stopped right along your fingers, intertwining them with his. Your hand clutched onto his as his thrust sped up a fraction—but it was still deep and lazy, enough to make you squirm. His cock was achingly hard inside you and when you clenched down on him, you adored the twitch and resounding moan it drew out of him.

You wanted this for your life. You wanted him every day. You wanted to wake up each morning in his arms, him whispering sweet nothings as he buried himself inside you.

You wanted him so much you would be a fool not to accept his proposal.

"Yes," you breathed out. "I'll marry you."

He grunted against your lips. "Say that again."

His thrusts were now fast and ruthless, his groans filling the room while the sound of skin slapping together echoed with it. Every time you could feel him deep inside you, it brought you closer to that familiar coil in your stomach. It was a heady sensation, an intoxicating blend of desire that quickened your pulse and set your senses ablaze.

"I—shit," you cried out, legs shaking at the pleasure traveling along your body you were starting to wail desperately for your release. "Fuck, baby, I'll marry you."

A sound of satisfaction erupted from him as he kissed you with every ounce of power he had. He kissed you as he had never kissed anyone before. He kissed you deeply, possessively even, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from different angles, but it felt perfect.

You felt perfect. Your lips. Your curves. Your scent. It was as if you were made especially for him. He was fully consumed with you, consumed by you, and yet he couldn't get enough. Though you were beneath him, he was at your mercy, and the fact that you could still have such control over him made his stomach twist even more.

He was so in love with you. He was so sure of it, so sure of this abundance of passion, for Spencer Reid could sometimes be dense when it came to sudden bursts of emotions, but he was not stupid. He wasn't oblivious, nor was he lacking in perception. It wasn't about intelligence or lack thereof, it was simply about the purity of his emotion.

And he was deeply, unequivocally in love.

Oneshot taglist: @simpingforharryandcevans @strawbeerossi @lightvixxen @dim-i-try @annabellexox @baby-banana @natarataca @wolfbeanpotion @nagemasstuff @alexander-arcturus-black @rosieee491 @s00dastereo @no-honey-no @donttrustlove @tylevx @kailey-rae @sailorholly @ducksong @infinitegalaxiesworld @dreamsarebig @brilliantreid @boimlers-gonna-boim

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reidmarieprentiss · 1 month

Text

i love you

Summary: Spencer falls in love with a famous singer, Spencer also has a hard time controlling his jealousy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x pop star! fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: insecurity, cheating accusations, arguing, lack of trust, regrets, being famous, paparazzi, bestie Billie Eilish

Word count: 13k

a/n: helloooo hehe sorry about the angst again butttt i have ideas for a happier story line if y'all want a part 2 !!!!

update! part two is here!!!

main masterlist

February, 2006

In the heart of New York City, where towering skyscrapers meet the pulse of creativity, you find yourself stepping into the sleek, modern office of a prestigious publishing house. Today’s interview isn’t just any ordinary sit-down; it’s being conducted by the chief editor themselves—a rare honor reserved for only the most influential figures. As one of the world’s most celebrated pop stars, the stakes are high, and they’ve rolled out the red carpet for you, eager to delve into the stories behind your meteoric rise and iconic career.

You had barely wrapped up your latest thought, answering a question about the creative process behind your new album, when a soft knock interrupted the flow of your interview. The chief editor, who had been so focused on your words, paused, a small frown creasing their brow as the door cracked open.

The person who had greeted you and your team at the front desk earlier poked their head into the room, eyes wide with apology and urgency. “Hi! I’m so sorry, but we have two agents here from the FBI. They say they are working on a case that could involve some of our publications. What should I tell them?”

The editor’s eyes flicked back to you, concern knitting their features together. “Y/N, I am so so sorry. Do you mind if I step out for one second?”

You offered them a reassuring smile, waving a hand dismissively. “No! Not at all! Take care of whatever you need.”

“Thank you, thank you,” the editor breathed, clearly relieved as they stood and followed the receptionist out of the room, leaving you alone for the moment.

After a few minutes, they returned, apologizing profusely for the interruption, but you could see the tension still etched on their face, the slight edge of distraction in their voice. The rest of the interview passed without incident, but once it wrapped up, you couldn’t shake the curiosity bubbling inside you.

As you gathered your things, you politely declined their offer to show you to the bathroom. "Thank you, but I think I can manage," you said with a smile, wanting to stretch your legs a bit and maybe take a peek at the source of the earlier interruption.

After wandering down the corridor for a minute or two, it became clear that you had no idea where you were going. The building was far larger than you anticipated, with identical doors lining each hallway. You turned a corner, hoping you were heading in the right direction when you noticed a room with an open door.

Inside, two men stood by a large table filled with neatly organized files and documents. Their presence was commanding, unmistakably official, and more than a little bit attractive. One was tall, with broad shoulders and dark hair, his expression serious as he sifted through a stack of papers. The other, slightly younger, had sharp, intelligent eyes behind a pair of glasses, his movements precise as he carefully handled what appeared to be an older document.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to intrude on whatever important work they were doing, but your need to find the bathroom was becoming more pressing by the second.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the doorway and cleared your throat softly. “Hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but do you happen to know where the bathroom is?”

Both men looked up, their attention snapping to you as if they had been pulled out of deep concentration. Aaron Hotchner blinked in surprise, his composed demeanor faltering just slightly before he offered a polite, practiced smile. “No bother at all. I don’t believe I know where the bathroom is. Reid?”

Spencer Reid barely looked up from his work, his attention already drifting back to the papers in front of him. “Out the door to the left, down the hall, last door on the right,” he mumbled, his voice soft and almost distracted.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Oh, he was pretty—and not immediately bowled over by your presence? You liked a challenge. “Oh! Thank you!” you chirped, your tone a bit more enthusiastic than you intended, but it wasn’t every day you met someone who didn’t immediately fall into the rhythm of your world.

After finding the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the thought of that cute, nerdy man with the sharp intellect and distracted charm. You quickly texted your assistant, Dylan—who was also your brother—asking him to pick up two coffees and some pastries, and to meet you on the floor where you were currently stationed.

When the delivery arrived, you approached the room where the men were working once again. You knocked lightly on the doorframe to announce your presence. “Hi! Thanks again for helping me out earlier. I thought maybe you two could use a little pick-me-up,” you said, holding out the goods with a bright smile.

Aaron looked at the offering with a hint of suspicion, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed your motives. “Wow. That’s very kind of you, thank you,” he said, his voice polite but guarded.

You quickly picked up on the hesitation and offered an explanation. “Sorry, I know it’s a little odd to get gifts from strangers. I just like paying it forward. You helped me, so I do something kind for you, and maybe you’ll do something kind for someone else later.”

Aaron’s expression softened at your explanation, a hint of warmth creeping into his eyes. “I like that. Thank you again,” he said, this time with more sincerity.

Meanwhile, Spencer still hadn’t fully reacted, offering only a tight-lipped smile and a nod of acknowledgment. You handed the coffee and pastry to Aaron before turning your attention to Spencer, who was already drifting back into his work. “Here,” you said, holding out the coffee to him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, glancing up briefly. “Any sugar?”

“Uh, no, just black. I’m sure there’s some in the break room…?” you offered, tilting your head slightly in question.

He nodded again, his attention already starting to slip back to the papers in front of him. “Alright… I’ll just put this here,” you said, placing his pastry on top of what appeared to be his satchel, casually slipping a note underneath the paper bag. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself—maybe he’d notice, or maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, you’d planted a seed of curiosity in that brilliant mind of his, and that was enough for now.

—

Spencer's eyes lingered on the note, the neat, playful handwriting contrasting sharply with the serious documents scattered across his desk. He blinked a few times, trying to piece together the brief interaction he had with you earlier, but the details were frustratingly fuzzy. He’d been so engrossed in his work that he barely registered your presence, let alone your face. The only thing he could recall was the faint scent of coffee and the sound of your cheerful voice, but nothing more.

Across the room, Hotch was watching the scene unfold with a faint smile, his amusement barely concealed. He hadn’t known who you were either, but he found the situation oddly endearing. Spencer, brilliant and socially awkward as he was, seemed utterly baffled by the note in his hand. Hotch couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head at his younger colleague’s bewilderment.

“Staring at it won’t help,” Hotch advised, his tone light. “Maybe you should call?”

“I don’t know her,” Spencer replied, his brow furrowing as he continued to scrutinize the note as if it held some hidden meaning he was missing.

Hotch leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest with a knowing look. “You could get to know her,” he suggested, the amusement in his voice evident. “She obviously went out of her way to reach out to you. It’s not every day someone leaves their number like that.”

Spencer hesitated, his mind racing through all the possible outcomes of making that call. On one hand, he was intensely curious about you—who you were, why you’d left the note, and what you’d seen in him that made you interested. On the other hand, the idea of reaching out to someone he didn’t know, especially in such a personal way, was daunting.

But Hotch had a point. He always did.

Spencer glanced down at the note again, reading the words over and over as if they would change with each pass.

Give me a call when you’re not so busy? Promise I’m more interesting than some old prints <3 Xxx xxx xxxx.

There was a lightness to your words, a promise of something different, something outside the usual routine that consumed him. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth the risk to find out what that was. Taking a deep breath, Spencer carefully folded the note and slipped it into his pocket, the decision made, even if he didn’t fully understand it yet.

Hotch’s smile widened just a fraction as he watched Spencer’s resolve take shape. “Good choice,” he said simply, returning his attention to his own work, leaving Spencer to contemplate when—and how—he’d make that call.

—

March, 2006

Life as a pop star was nothing short of chaotic, especially when you were barely 24 and on the brink of releasing yet another album. Your days were a whirlwind of recording studios, press conferences, interviews, and the constant need to stay relevant on social media. It was a lot to handle, but having your brother, Dylan, by your side made it all feel a little more manageable. He was your rock, keeping things running smoothly even when the demands of fame threatened to overwhelm you.

Currently, you found yourself back in LA, swept up in a relentless schedule that Dylan had meticulously organized. The days blurred together—back-to-back interviews, recording sessions that stretched into the early hours of the morning, and brief moments snatched away for obligatory social media posts. In the midst of all this, the memory of the mystery man you’d given your number to in New York had faded into the background. It was easier not to dwell on it, to keep your expectations low. After all, not everyone was going to reciprocate your interest, and you’d learned early on in life not to take things personally.

Weeks passed, and your mind was consumed by the demands of your career. The mystery man became just that—a mystery you tucked away, almost forgotten amidst the chaos. That is, until one quiet evening in your LA apartment, when you were finally able to unwind, your phone buzzed with a call from an unknown number.

You stared at the screen, your instincts urging you not to answer. In your line of work, you never knew when or if your number might get leaked, and you weren’t about to take any chances. But as soon as the call ended, curiosity got the better of you. Who could it have been? You needed to know.

With a quick text, you reached out to your tech-savvy friend, Kade. Their enthusiasm for solving puzzles like this made them the perfect person to track down the owner of that mysterious number. Within minutes, Kade had the information—and a picture too. When the image popped up on your screen, your heart skipped a beat.

It was him. The mystery man from New York. The one you’d thought might never call.

Without a second thought, you hit the call button, your nerves tingling with anticipation as you listened to the line ring. Finally, after weeks of wondering, you were about to hear his voice again.

—

Spencer stared at his phone, the dial tone echoing in his ear before it abruptly ended, signaling that the call had gone unanswered. He felt a pang of disappointment, a weight settling in his chest that he couldn’t quite shake. He’d taken the leap, albeit a few weeks late, and now it seemed like it might have been for nothing. Maybe you’d forgotten him, moved on with your life.

He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he placed the phone back on the table. It had taken him so long to muster the courage to call you, to push past his own reservations and insecurities. He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling, trying to convince himself that it was just a phone call, just a moment in time that didn’t have to mean anything.

But deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss, like he’d let something slip through his fingers before it even had a chance to begin. Spencer was no stranger to disappointment, but this time, it felt different. It felt like an opportunity he might never get back.

Spencer sat there, lost in his thoughts, the weight of his insecurities pressing down on him. His mind wandered through all the reasons why you might not have answered—maybe you really had forgotten him, maybe you had better things to do, or maybe he was just one of a hundred people you’d encountered that day. The more he thought about it, the more his doubts began to take root, spreading through him like a slow, creeping fog.

Then, breaking through the haze of his thoughts, his phone began to ring on the table in front of him. The sudden sound jolted him from his reverie, and for a moment, he just stared at the screen, as if unsure whether it was real. The number flashing across the screen was the same unknown one he’d dialed just moments ago.

His heart raced, a mix of hope and disbelief surging through him. Could it be you? Had you actually called him back? He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the phone, almost afraid to answer. But the ringing continued, insistent and almost impatient, pulling him back into the present.

With a deep breath, he swiped to answer, bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?” he said, his voice a little shaky, betraying the nervousness he felt.

“Hi! Is this Spencer?” Your voice came through the line, bright and unmistakably warm, instantly cutting through the tension that had been building within him.

For a moment, Spencer was too stunned to respond, his mind scrambling to catch up with the fact that you were actually on the other end of the line. “Yes, it’s Spencer,” he finally managed to say, his voice steadier now, though his heart was still pounding.

“I’m so sorry I missed your call earlier!” you continued, your tone light and genuine. “I didn’t recognize the number when I saw it. But I’m really glad you called. I’ve been hoping to hear from you!”

Spencer’s doubts began to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of relief and excitement. You hadn’t forgotten him, after all. You were as curious about him as he was about you. “No, no, it’s fine,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me.”

“Of course I remember you! How could I forget the cute, smart guy who helped me find the bathroom?” you teased lightly, your laughter filling the space between you and putting Spencer at ease.

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh along with you, the tension in his chest finally easing. “Well, I’m glad I could help,” he said, the smile now fully blossoming on his face. “So… what’s up?”

“I was wondering if you’d be free sometime soon? I’d love to actually get to know you better, maybe over coffee or something? I should be back in New York in a few weeks!” Your invitation was casual, but the sincerity in your voice was something Spencer couldn’t ignore.

“I would like that,” Spencer began, hesitating slightly before continuing. “Um, I actually live in Virginia…”

“Oh! That’s no problem, I can come to Virginia,” you replied without missing a beat, your tone so effortlessly confident and reassuring that it caught Spencer off guard.

He blinked, momentarily confused. What kind of life did you lead that allowed you such flexibility, such willingness to drop everything for a spontaneous trip? “Are you sure? It’s a three-hour train ride,” he said, the logical part of his brain struggling to grasp the ease with which you offered.

“No problem! I’m in Los Angeles right now, but I should have a bit of freedom in, say, two weeks? Would that work for you?” Your words were filled with a casualness that suggested this kind of thing was just another day in your life.

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Spencer responded, still wrapping his mind around the idea that you were so eager to see him, despite the distance and the logistics involved.

“Amazing! Are weekends better for you?” you asked, the excitement in your voice making it clear how much you were looking forward to this.

“Yes, weekends are good,” Spencer confirmed, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside him.

“Okay, Spencer,” you said, and he could practically hear the smile in your voice. “How about you pick a time and a café in Virginia for Saturday two weeks from now, and I’ll meet you there?”

“Uh, sure, I can do that,” Spencer replied, a bit overwhelmed but in the best way possible. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“Great! I can’t wait,” you said, your enthusiasm palpable even over the phone. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

As you ended the call with a cheerful goodbye, Spencer found himself staring at his phone again, but this time, the feeling of defeat was replaced with something entirely different—a sense of anticipation, of possibility. He had two weeks to figure out the perfect place to meet, and the thought of seeing you again made his heart race in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

—

Two weeks flew by, and soon you were landing in New York, excitement and nerves swirling inside you. Instead of flying to Virginia, you chose the train, savoring the slower pace after the constant rush of airports in your career.

As the train glided smoothly along, a calm settled over you, the rhythmic sound of the tracks providing a rare moment of peace. You were anxious about meeting someone new, but also excited—Spencer seemed down-to-earth and refreshingly different from the usual whirlwind of fame. And he was undeniably attractive, with a quiet, intelligent charm that had caught your attention.

Though your security detail accompanied you, the ride was peaceful. Most passengers didn’t mind having a pop star in their car; a few asked for autographs and pictures, which you happily provided. For the most part, you were left alone to chat with your security and enjoy the journey.

—

Arriving at the café was agonizing for Spencer. His nerves had been on edge the entire day, and he’d debated countless times whether he should even show up. The closer he got, the more his anxiety spiked. What if you didn’t show up? What if you were a soon-to-be unsub? His mind raced through every worst-case scenario, each one more unsettling than the last.

As he approached the café, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. What if you just wanted to hurt him? What if you had forgotten about him entirely? The uncertainty gnawed at him, making each step feel heavier than the last. It took every ounce of his willpower to push through the doubt and walk through the door, hoping—desperately—that this wasn’t all a mistake.

But to his surprise, when Spencer finally entered the café, he saw you already there, seated at a small table near the window. You were early, a black coffee in front of you, with a canister full of sugar beside it, waiting to be poured. The sight of you, so relaxed and genuinely present, eased some of his lingering fears.

You had arrived first, intentionally choosing a slightly hidden booth and quietly informing the staff of your presence to avoid any unnecessary attention. It wasn’t about having a big head, but rather wanting to keep the date as normal as possible, just in case someone recognized you and caused a scene.

“Spencer! Hi!” you greeted him warmly, your smile lighting up the room as you waved him over.

“Hello,” he responded, raising a hand in a shy wave as he walked toward you, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness.

“It’s so good to see you!” you exclaimed, your enthusiasm evident. “Can I hug you?”

“Um,” Spencer hesitated for a split second, caught off guard by your openness. He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the nerves. “Yes, sure.”

You stood up and gently wrapped your arms around him, your embrace warm and welcoming. Spencer felt the tension in his shoulders start to melt away, the simple act reminding him that maybe, just maybe, this could turn out better than he’d feared as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“So, I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and got you a coffee,” you said, gesturing to the cup in front of him. “I wasn’t sure how sweet you like it, so I just asked for a whole thing of sugar.”

Spencer couldn’t believe how thoughtful you were, the small gesture meaning more to him than you might realize. “Oh, thank you so much,” he replied, his voice soft with gratitude. “That’s perfect.”

He felt a warmth in his chest, a sense of comfort in knowing that you had already taken the time to consider his preferences. It was a simple act, but to Spencer, it spoke volumes about the kind of person you were.

Spencer took a seat across from you, feeling the warmth from your earlier hug still lingering. You watched as he carefully added just the right amount of sugar to his coffee, stirring it with a quiet focus that made you smile.

"So," you began, breaking the silence with a gentle tone, "how have you been? I hope your day wasn't too stressful."

Spencer looked up, meeting your eyes with a small, appreciative smile. "It’s been… a bit nerve-wracking, to be honest. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I’m really glad I came."

You leaned in slightly, your expression softening. "I’m glad you did too. I’ve been looking forward to this."

He felt a flutter in his chest at your words, the sincerity in your voice easing some of the anxiety that had been gnawing at him. “I’ve been looking forward to it too, though I was worried I might say something awkward.”

You laughed softly, the sound warm and reassuring. “Don’t worry about that. I like awkward—it’s honest. Besides, I’m probably just as nervous as you are.”

Spencer looked at you with surprise. “Really? You seem so confident.”

You shrugged, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I guess I’ve had a lot of practice pretending to be. But trust me, I get nervous too, especially when I’m meeting someone new.”

There was a pause as your words sank in, making Spencer feel a bit more at ease. “Well, if it helps, you’re doing a great job of making me feel comfortable.”

Your smile widened, your eyes sparkling with warmth. “Good, that’s exactly what I was hoping for. I just want us to enjoy this, no pressure, just two people getting to know each other.”

Spencer nodded, feeling the last of his nerves start to fade away. “That sounds nice. I think we’re off to a pretty good start.”

You raised your coffee cup in a mock toast, your grin contagious. “Here’s to a good start, then.”

Spencer clinked his cup against yours, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “To a good start.”

After you both took a sip of your coffee, the conversation started to flow more naturally. Eventually, Spencer asked, “What do you do for work?”

It was at that moment you realized that Spencer genuinely didn’t know who you were—he wasn’t just pretending for your sake. “Oh! Um, I sing,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.

“You sing? That’s so great! What kind of music?” Spencer’s enthusiasm was genuine, and it warmed your heart.

“Mostly pop, but I’ve been called indie pop before too,” you explained, trying not to let your nerves show.

Spencer nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t listen to much pop, but I would love to come to one of your shows sometime. Where do you perform?”

You laughed nervously, not sure how to break it to him. “Ha ha, well, a little bit of everywhere? I could invite you next time I perform close by!”

“That would be great,” Spencer said with a dopey smile, clearly pleased with the idea.

“So, what do you do, Spencer?” you asked, eager to shift the focus.

“I work for the FBI,” he replied, almost bashfully.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “That is so much cooler!”

“Oh, well, thank you,” Spencer said, blushing slightly at the compliment.

“Do you take down bad guys?” you asked, leaning in with genuine curiosity.

Spencer chuckled softly. “Yeah, something like that. I’m a profiler, so I help catch criminals by understanding how they think.”

You couldn’t help but be impressed. “Wow, that’s amazing! You’re like a real-life Sherlock Holmes.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up at your words, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “I think that’s the best compliment I have ever gotten,” he said, clearly touched by the comparison.

You smiled back, pleased to see how much the compliment meant to him. “Well, it’s true. It sounds like you have a pretty incredible job.”

Spencer’s smile softened, a hint of shyness returning. “Thank you. It’s not always easy, but it’s rewarding.”

You could see the passion he had for his work, and it only made you more curious to learn about the man behind the profiler. “I have a feeling you’re really good at what you do,” you added, feeling more drawn to him with each passing moment.

As the conversation continued, you felt a growing connection with Spencer, charmed by his sincerity and humility. It was refreshing to talk to someone who saw you as just a person, rather than the pop star you usually were.

—

The date was, in a word, phenomenal. You and Spencer clicked in a way that felt effortless, the conversation flowing naturally, and the time slipping by unnoticed. By the end of it, you both agreed to meet again the next time you were close by. Spencer left the café feeling lighter, with a genuine smile on his face. From what he gathered, you traveled often for work but mostly lived in New York, which suited him just fine. The idea of seeing you again was something he looked forward to.

Monday morning came around, and as Spencer walked into the office, he barely had time to settle in before Derek Morgan sauntered over, a teasing grin on his face. “So, pretty boy,” Derek started, leaning against Spencer’s desk, “heard from Hotch you had a hot date this weekend.”

Spencer felt a blush creep up his neck, trying to play it cool as he adjusted his tie. “It wasn’t… I mean, yeah, I had a date,” he admitted, though he couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at his lips.

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this. “And? How’d it go? Are we gonna see wedding bells soon, or what?”

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head. “It went well, really well. We’re planning to meet again soon.”

Derek gave him a playful nudge. “Look at you, Pretty Boy, out here dating like a pro. So, what’s she like?”

Spencer hesitated, his mind racing back to the date. “She’s… incredible. Smart, funny, down-to-earth. I really enjoyed spending time with her.”

Derek nodded approvingly. “Sounds like a keeper. Just make sure you bring her around sometime so the rest of us can vet her properly.”

Spencer laughed, rolling his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Derek walked away, Spencer found himself thinking back to the date, the smile still lingering on his face. He had no idea what the future held, but for now, he was more than happy with the way things were unfolding.

—

May, 2006

Even though your schedule was packed, you managed to carve out moments in your day to text Spencer. It became a little ritual—finding those brief pauses between studio sessions, interviews, or flights to send him a quick message. Sometimes it was a simple Good morning! or Hope your day’s going well! Other times, you’d share something funny or interesting that happened, enjoying the way his replies always seemed to brighten your day.

Spencer, in turn, did his best to keep up with the texts, even when his work took him deep into intense cases. He found himself looking forward to your messages, the small glimpses into your life offering a welcome distraction from the often grim realities of his job.

A month after your first date, the stars finally aligned again, and you both found yourselves free at the same time. Spencer had been looking forward to seeing you, but as luck would have it, the BAU team had already planned a bar night for that weekend. There was no way he could bow out without raising suspicions, so instead, he decided to invite you along.

He texted you with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Hey, I know we’ve been planning to meet up again, and I was wondering if you’d like to come out with me and my team this weekend? We’re having a bar night, and I’d really like for you to meet everyone.

That sounds like so much fun! I’d love to meet your team. Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.

Spencer smiled as he read your reply, feeling a sense of relief and excitement all at once. It wasn’t what he’d originally planned, but he realized that introducing you to his team felt like a natural next step. Plus, he was curious to see how you’d fit in with the people who had become like family to him.

As the weekend approached, Spencer found himself growing more and more eager to see you again. This time, he wasn’t just looking forward to spending time with you—he was excited to see how you’d interact with the people who meant so much to him.

—

You decided to meet Spencer at his apartment before heading to the bar, a decision that filled you with both excitement and nerves. The idea of seeing him again, of spending time with him in a more casual, intimate setting, was thrilling, but it also made your heart race with anticipation. You stood outside his door, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before finally mustering the courage to knock.

Meanwhile, your security team was stationed discreetly at the base of the building, sitting in their cars to avoid drawing attention. You didn’t want to alarm Spencer with an obvious security presence, especially since he didn’t know the full extent of your fame. They had already done a thorough sweep of the bar, learning all the exits and identifying the best spots to keep watch over you without intruding on your evening.

As you waited for Spencer to answer the door, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. This was a big step—meeting his team, blending your two worlds, and trying to keep the balance between your public life and the private connection you were building with him. But as the door opened and you saw Spencer’s familiar, warm smile, those nerves began to ease.

“Hey,” he greeted you, his voice soft and welcoming.

“Hey,” you replied, returning his smile, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Being here with him, seeing that look in his eyes, reminded you why you were doing this. The rest of the world could wait; tonight was about the two of you.

Spencer stepped aside to let you in, his apartment cozy and inviting. “You look great,” he said, his tone slightly shy as he took in your appearance.

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm. “You do too.”

There was a brief pause, the two of you just standing there, enjoying the moment. Then, Spencer gestured towards the door. “Ready to go? The team’s probably already at the bar.”

“Yeah, let’s do this,” you said, feeling a surge of confidence as you linked your arm with his.

—

As you and Spencer arrived at the bar, your nerves returned with full force. You had been feeling confident earlier, but now, faced with meeting his entire team, the reality of blending your world with his hit you hard. Spencer seemed to sense your hesitation, offering you a reassuring smile as he led you inside.

“Hey, guys, this is Y/N,” Spencer said, introducing you to his team with a hint of pride in his voice. “Y/N, this is my team.”

Before anyone else could say a word, Penelope Garcia practically barreled through the group, her eyes wide with excitement. “Oh. My. God. Y/N Y/L? I love your music! How did you two meet?”

You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, though it made you a little self-conscious. “Um, we met at a publishing house in New York,” you said, trying to keep things casual.

Spencer looked adorably confused as he turned to Penelope. “How do you know Y/N’s music?”

Penelope’s face lit up even more. “I’ve been a fan for years!”

You felt a warm blush creeping up your neck. “Thank you so much,” you said kindly, appreciating her support. But you were also eager to shift the focus away from your celebrity status. “But, uh, let’s not focus on me. I want to get to know all of you.”

The team exchanged glances, a mixture of curiosity and amusement playing on their faces. It was clear that they were intrigued by the dynamic between you and Spencer, but they respected your wish to keep the conversation light and inclusive.

“Fair enough,” Derek said with a grin, extending his hand to you. “I’m Derek. It’s nice to meet you.”

You shook his hand, relieved that the introductions were moving forward. “Nice to meet you too, Derek.”

As each member of the team introduced themselves, you felt the initial wave of nerves begin to subside. They were a friendly, welcoming group, and their easy going nature made it easier for you to relax. Spencer stayed close by your side, his presence comforting as you navigated this new and somewhat intimidating social landscape.

Unfortunately, as pleasant as the evening had been, things took a sharp turn when it was time for you and Spencer to leave the bar. The moment you stepped outside, you were met with the overwhelming sight of a large crowd waiting by the entrance, their faces eager, some shouting your name. The flashes of cameras lit up the night as paparazzi swarmed, snapping photos in a chaotic frenzy.

“Y/N, come with us,” your head security guard, Emerson, called out firmly, their voice carrying over the noise. They were already moving to shield you from the crowd, their team efficiently surrounding both you and Spencer.

Spencer was beyond confused, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. The crowd, the screaming, the relentless camera flashes—it was all a world he had never experienced before. One moment, the two of you were having a quiet night out with his team, and the next, you were being hustled into a black SUV by your security detail.

As the vehicle sped away, leaving the chaos behind, Spencer finally found his voice. “Y/N, what the hell was that?” he asked, his tone filled with concern and bewilderment.

You let out a sigh, knowing this was something you’d have to explain sooner or later. “I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you began, turning to him with an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. Someone must have recognized me and tipped off the paparazzi.”

Spencer frowned, still trying to piece everything together. “Recognized you? But why would…?” He trailed off, the reality slowly dawning on him. “Wait… Are you famous?”

You nodded, feeling a mix of guilt and apprehension. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. That’s why there was a crowd outside—they wanted pictures and autographs, that sort of thing.”

Spencer sat back in his seat, processing what you had just told him. “I had no idea,” he said softly, a hint of shock still in his voice.

“I know,” you admitted, your voice tinged with regret. “I didn’t want it to be a big deal between us. I just wanted you to get to know me for who I am, not because of my career.”

He looked at you, his expression a mix of understanding and concern. “Y/N, I don’t care about any of that. I just… I wasn’t prepared for this.”

“I understand,” you said, reaching out to gently take his hand. “I should have been more upfront with you. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

Spencer squeezed your hand, his gaze softening. “It’s okay. I just need a little time to process everything.”

You nodded, grateful for his understanding. “Of course. We can talk more about it when you’re ready. I don’t want this to change anything between us.”

Spencer gave you a small smile, the initial shock beginning to fade. “It won’t,” he assured you. “I still want to get to know you, the real you. We’ll figure this out together.”

His words brought you a sense of relief, and as the car continued to drive away from the chaotic scene, you felt a renewed sense of hope for what lay ahead.

—

The security team swiftly brought you and Spencer to a hotel with a private parking garage, ensuring that you wouldn’t be followed or harassed any further. It was a relief to be away from the chaos, but you couldn’t help feeling bad for dragging Spencer into your world so abruptly.

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” you said softly as you both exited the car. “Do you mind hanging out here for a bit until everything dies down? Or I can have Emerson take you home.”

“No, no, I want to stay with you,” he quickly replied, his sincerity evident.

You smiled, grateful for his support. “Okay.”

The two of you were guided up to the room where you’d be staying for the weekend. Your security team stood guard outside, some doing security sweeps to ensure the area was safe. Inside the room, the atmosphere was much calmer, but you could sense Spencer’s curiosity lingering.

“Alright, so tell me about it. How famous are you?” Spencer asked, his tone light but clearly curious.

You hesitated, not because you didn’t want to answer, but because you hated that question. Measuring your fame felt strange and impersonal. You valued your fans and appreciated the love they showed you, but fame was such a nebulous concept. “Uhhh…”

Spencer quickly backtracked, noticing your discomfort. “Sorry, that was a weird question.”

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured him. “I, uh, guess I have quite the fan base.”

Spencer nodded thoughtfully, sensing there was more to your reluctance. “Would it bother you if I looked you up when I get home?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness. “That’s fine, Spencer. Just… don’t judge me too harshly.”

He looked at you with that soft, earnest expression that always seemed to put you at ease. “I would never.”

“I know, I know,” you said, letting out a small sigh. “It’s just—there’s a lot of nasty rumors, and bad things people say about me. Just, keep an open mind?”

Spencer’s gaze was steady as he reached out to take your hand. “Y/N, I like you. I don’t care what some idiot says about you on the internet, okay?”

His words were like a balm to your nerves, and you felt a warmth spread through you. “Okay. I like you too,” you admitted, feeling a surge of affection for the man sitting beside you.

Spencer’s eyes softened even further, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and full of hope.

“Please,” you whispered, your heart racing.

Spencer leaned in, his hand gently cradling your cheek as he pressed his lips to yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in that quiet, perfect moment. It was a kiss that spoke of understanding, of acceptance, and of something that had the potential to grow into something truly special.

And so began the beautiful relationship between you and Spencer. Every chance you got was spent together, each moment building the foundation for something truly special.

—

June, 2006

As you and Spencer strolled hand in hand through the grand halls of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the world around you seemed to blur into the background. The marble floors echoed softly with your footsteps, and the air was filled with the quiet hum of visitors lost in their own reverence for the art surrounding them. But for you, the real masterpiece was right beside you, his voice animated as he guided you through the exhibits.

“And here,” Spencer said, his eyes lighting up as he gestured toward a stunning Greek statue, “we have a marble sculpture of Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty. What’s fascinating is that this particular piece is from the Hellenistic period, where artists began to explore more dynamic poses and emotions in their work.”

You looked up at the statue, trying to see it through Spencer’s eyes. “It’s incredible,” you murmured, squeezing his hand lightly. “You make it all sound so alive, like we’re stepping back in time.”

Spencer smiled, a soft blush coloring his cheeks. “I’ve always loved how art can connect us to the past. It’s like a conversation across centuries, where every brushstroke or chisel mark tells a story.”

You could hear the passion in his voice, and it made your heart swell with affection. “You know, I’ve been here before, but it’s never felt this… magical,” you admitted, looking up at him.

Spencer’s eyes softened as he gazed back at you. “It’s not just the art,” he said quietly. “It’s who you’re experiencing it with.”

You felt a warm blush rise to your cheeks, his words sending a flutter through your heart. “You’re amazing, you know that?” you said with a smile.

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I’m just a guy who likes art history,” he replied modestly.

“And I’m just a girl who’s falling for that guy who likes art history,” you teased, leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder as you continued your walk.

Spencer’s smile grew as he squeezed your hand a little tighter. “Then I’d say we’re both pretty lucky.”

—

August, 2006

The weekend in Los Angeles felt like a breath of fresh air, a pause from the relentless pace of your lives. The sun was warm against your skin as you and Spencer strolled along the beach, the Pacific Ocean stretching out endlessly before you. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing backdrop to the easy conversation that flowed between you.

“I never imagined LA would be so…relaxed,” Spencer remarked, his gaze drifting out over the water. “I always thought of it as this fast-paced, high-energy place.”

You smiled, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “It can be, but there’s a whole other side to it too. It’s not all about Hollywood and traffic. Sometimes, it’s just about finding those quiet corners where you can breathe.”

Spencer nodded, looking thoughtful. “I can see why you like it here. It’s like the city has this dual nature—busy and vibrant, but also peaceful when you know where to look.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, your hand slipping into his. “I wanted to show you that part of my life, the part that isn’t all about work and appearances. Just… the real me.”

He turned to you, his expression softening. “I like the real you. I mean, I liked you before, but getting to see this side of you…it makes me feel closer to you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you squeezed his hand gently. “I feel the same way. It’s nice to just…be with you, without any distractions.”

The two of you continued walking, the sand shifting beneath your feet as the conversation turned to lighter topics. You talked about everything from your favorite movies to childhood memories, finding joy in the simplicity of sharing these little pieces of your lives.

Later, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, you found a cozy spot at one of your favorite hidden restaurants, tucked away from the bustling streets. The atmosphere was intimate, the kind of place where you could lose yourself in conversation without worrying about being recognized. The soft candlelight flickered between you, casting a warm glow over the table.

“This place is amazing,” Spencer said as he looked around, taking in the rustic charm of the restaurant. “It’s like a little secret.”

You grinned, pleased that he liked it. “It’s one of my favorites. The food is great, but it’s the atmosphere that keeps me coming back. It’s like a little escape from everything.”

As the evening wore on, you both savored the delicious food and each other’s company, the rest of the world fading into the background. The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time, Spencer’s wit and intelligence making every moment more enjoyable.

By the time you made your way back to the beach for a final stroll under the stars, you felt a deep sense of contentment. The city’s vibrant energy had melted into the tranquility of the night, and it was just the two of you, walking hand in hand along the shore.

“I could get used to this,” Spencer said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

“Me too,” you replied, leaning into him as you walked. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

Spencer smiled, a serene look on his face as he glanced down at you. “We can always come back. Maybe this could be our little escape.”

You looked up at him, your heart fluttering at the thought. “I’d like that.”

—

September, 2006

Spencer stood in the audience, his heart swelling with pride as he watched you perform, captivated by the way you commanded the stage. The lights bathed you in a warm glow, and your powerful, confident presence mesmerized the entire crowd. To Spencer, it was like seeing a new side of you, one that was awe-inspiring yet deeply connected to the person he knew so well—the one who shared quiet moments and deep conversations with him.

As the final notes rang out and the audience erupted in applause, Spencer clapped with fervor, pride evident in his eyes. After the show, you headed backstage, your adrenaline still high, but the moment you saw Spencer waiting for you, all the excitement of the stage melted away. His eyes shone with admiration, and in that instant, nothing else mattered but you.

Without a word, he pulled you into a tight hug, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. “You were incredible,” he whispered in your ear, his voice full of emotion.

You smiled against his shoulder, the warmth of his embrace grounding you after the high of the performance. “Thank you,” you murmured, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “I’m so glad you were here.”

Spencer’s gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of awe and love. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Seeing you up there, it was… it was something else. I’m so proud of you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making you feel even closer to him. “It means everything to me that you’re proud,” you replied, your hand resting against his chest.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I am. More than you know.”

—

November, 2006

Visiting Diana Reid in Las Vegas was a deeply personal step for both you and Spencer, a gesture that spoke volumes about how much you meant to him. The significance of the visit wasn't lost on you, and as you arrived at the care facility where Diana lived, you could feel the weight of the moment settling in.

Spencer’s hand held yours tightly as he led you inside, nervousness and pride evident in his eyes. You knew how important his mother was to him, and the fact that he was introducing you to her was a clear sign of the depth of his feelings. As you walked through the halls, you felt the butterflies in your stomach, but the steady pressure of Spencer’s hand in yours reassured you.

When you finally reached Diana’s room, Spencer paused, taking a deep breath before gently knocking on the door. “Mom, it’s Spencer,” he called softly, his voice filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

The door opened, and there she was—Diana Reid, with a warm smile that instantly made you feel at ease. “Spencer, my sweet boy,” she greeted, her eyes lighting up as she saw him. Then her gaze shifted to you, curiosity and kindness mingling in her expression. “And you must be Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Spencer squeezed your hand, his nerves clearly still present, but his voice was steady as he spoke. “Mom, this is Y/N. I wanted you to meet her.”

You stepped forward, offering a genuine smile. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Diana.”

Diana’s smile widened as she reached out to take your hand in hers. “The pleasure is mine, dear. Spencer speaks so highly of you.”

Diana welcomed you with warmth, her kindness evident in every word. It was clear how much Spencer loved her, reflected in the way he cared for her.

As the three of you chatted, you found it easy to connect with Diana—her sharp wit and stories filled the room with laughter. Spencer listened intently, his eyes often on his mother, revealing the deep bond they shared.

At one point, as Diana shared a funny childhood story about Spencer, you glanced at him and saw the soft, affectionate smile on his face. It made your heart swell with love for both him and the woman who raised him.

Throughout the visit, Spencer's hand never left yours, a silent sign of pride in introducing you to his mother. The connection you built with Diana added another layer to the bond you and Spencer were creating, one that grew stronger with each moment.

As the visit came to an end, Diana hugged you warmly, whispering in your ear, “Take care of him, won’t you?”

You hugged her back, your voice soft but sincere. “I will, Diana. I promise.”

When you and Spencer left the care facility, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. Meeting Diana had been a significant step, one that solidified the love and trust you and Spencer shared. And as you walked together under the bright Las Vegas sky, you knew that your relationship had grown even stronger, rooted in the love and connections you were building together.

—

December, 2006

The final piece fell into place when Spencer met your family in New York. Both of you had been a little nervous, knowing how important this moment was, but those nerves quickly dissolved as your family welcomed him with open arms. They were eager to meet the man who had captured your heart, and Spencer, with his quiet charm and genuine kindness, fit in seamlessly.

You watched with a smile as he effortlessly engaged in conversation with your parents, his gentle demeanor putting them at ease. He listened intently to your father’s stories and shared thoughtful insights that sparked lively discussions. Your mother was instantly taken with his manners and the way he looked at you with such clear affection.

It was your brother, though, who really put Spencer to the test, teasing him playfully and cracking jokes that had the room roaring with laughter. Spencer, to your delight, not only kept up but even managed to throw in a few quips of his own, earning him a slap on the back and a hearty laugh from your brother.

As you observed them all interacting, a warm feeling settled over you. Seeing Spencer so naturally integrated into your family, like he had always been a part of it, made your heart swell with happiness. You knew then, without a doubt, that he had become an irreplaceable part of your life.

Later that evening, as you walked hand in hand through the quiet streets of your old neighborhood, you turned to him with a smile. “I think they love you,” you said softly, leaning into his side.

Spencer glanced down at you, his eyes full of warmth. “I was more nervous about meeting them than I was about joining the FBI,” he admitted with a small chuckle. “But your family is wonderful. I feel really lucky.”

You stopped walking, turning to face him fully. “I’m the lucky one,” you said, your voice filled with emotion. “You mean so much to me, Spencer, and seeing you get along with my family… it just makes everything feel even more right.”

He pulled you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “I feel the same way,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “This—us—feels right.”

—

June, 2007

It wasn’t until you and Spencer had been together for a year that the first crack in the armor began to form. A year ago, Spencer had kept his promise and looked you up online. But what he didn’t tell you was how much he hated what he found. The dating rumors, the fan crushes, the obsession from your fans—he saw it all, and it gnawed at him. The jealousy simmered beneath the surface, his insecurities festering as he watched the world fawn over you.

At first, Spencer’s comments seemed harmless enough—slight jabs and subtle jokes about the rumors and fan pages. You thought he was just teasing, playing along with the absurdity of it all. But over time, the tone changed. The jokes became sharper, more pointed, until you couldn’t ignore the underlying resentment.

The breaking point came when you and Billie Eilish, a close friend since the beginning of your career, collaborated on a song for her new album. The promo involved interviews, social media posts, and what Spencer hated the most—a chicken shop date. The chemistry between you and Billie was undeniable, something that couldn’t be faked. Watching the video, Spencer felt his stomach churn with jealousy, convinced there was something more between you two.

Unable to keep his feelings in check, Spencer picked a fight over it. The tension that had been building for months finally erupted, his words laced with bitterness. “You and Billie looked like more than just friends in that video,” he snapped, unable to hide the hurt in his voice.

You stared at him, stunned. “Spencer, we’re just friends. You know that.”

He shook his head, frustration clear in his eyes. “It didn’t look like that to me. Everyone sees the way you two are together, and I can’t stand it.”

The pain in his voice cut deep, and you realized how much he had been holding back. “Spencer, there’s nothing between us but friendship. You have to believe me.”

But the damage was done. The fight opened up the insecurities Spencer had tried so hard to suppress, and the trust that had always been the foundation of your relationship began to waver. As the argument continued, it became clear that this wasn’t just about Billie—it was about everything Spencer had been silently battling for months. The dating rumors, the fans, the world’s obsession with you—it had all taken its toll, and now it was threatening to tear you apart.

—

August, 2007

You and Spencer were lost in a heated makeout session, the tension that had been building between you two finally dissolving as you straddled his lap on your couch in New York. It had been too long since you’d had a moment like this—no schedules, no distractions, just the two of you reconnecting in the way that always felt the most natural. Spencer’s hands roamed over your body, and you could feel the urgency in his touch, the desire to be close to you after so much time apart.

Just as things were beginning to escalate, your phone started ringing. You ignored it, too wrapped up in the moment to care who might be calling. After all, the most important person in your life was right here with you. But the ringing didn’t stop. It kept going, over and over, cutting through the haze of your desire and pulling you back to reality.

Spencer pulled back, clearly annoyed by the persistent interruption. His breath was ragged, his frustration evident as he grabbed your phone from the coffee table. He glanced at the screen, and his expression quickly shifted from irritation to something darker—anger mixed with jealousy.

“Seriously?” he said, his voice dripping with venom as he flipped the phone to show you the screen.

You looked at the image and felt your stomach drop. It was a picture of you and Billie, taken during a trip when the two of you had gone swimming under a waterfall, wearing little more than bathing suits. Spencer had once liked looking at that picture, a reminder of the carefree times you’d shared. But now, that same image seemed to fuel his insecurities, the sight of you and Billie together igniting a seething jealousy within him.

“Spencer…” you began, but he cut you off, his eyes blazing with anger.

“Why is she calling you? Now, of all times?” he demanded, the hurt in his voice unmistakable.

“She’s just a friend, Spencer,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, but he pulled away slightly, the distance between you suddenly feeling like a chasm.

“Is she, though?” he shot back, his tone laced with bitterness. “Because it sure doesn’t feel that way. Not when she’s always there, in your life, interrupting us even now.”

You could see the pain behind his words, the way his jealousy had been festering for far too long. “Spencer, you’re the one I’m here with. You’re the one I love,” you tried to reassure him, but it was clear that the tension between you two wasn’t going to dissolve as easily as it had built up.

The moment that had been so full of passion just minutes ago now felt heavy with unresolved emotions. The weight of Spencer’s jealousy and your own guilt for not addressing it sooner pressed down on you both, leaving you to wonder how you could mend the growing rift between you.

—

October, 2007

The article was nothing more than a piece of sensationalized gossip, a tabloid’s attempt to stir the pot with baseless claims. It wasn’t even on your radar as you prepared for your upcoming tour of the Americas, your mind focused on rehearsals, logistics, and the excitement of performing for your fans. But Spencer had seen it. And instead of brushing it off as the ridiculous fabrication it was, he believed it.

His rational mind—the one you had always admired—had been overwhelmed by months of festering insecurities and jealousy. The TMZ article, with its blurry, barely discernible photo of two women who vaguely resembled you and Billie, was the final straw. In his mind, it was proof that his worst fears were true.

Spencer’s heart raced as he stared at the article, his eyes blurring with tears. The image, though unclear, fed into his paranoia. He could barely think straight, his emotions a chaotic storm of anger, hurt, and betrayal. He grabbed his phone, his hands trembling as he dialed your number. You were in Brazil, preparing for the first leg of your tour, oblivious to the storm brewing back home.

When you answered, you were met with a voice you hardly recognized—sharp, cold, and filled with rage. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Spencer had never sworn at you before. In fact, you weren’t even sure you’d ever heard him use the word “fuck” at all. The venom in his tone made your stomach drop, a cold dread seeping into your veins.

“What happened, baby?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, but the unease was already gnawing at you.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me!” he snapped, his voice breaking with emotion. “You made out with Billie in public, and you got caught. I have photo evidence that you’re cheating on me now. I’ve known for months! Months! How could you lie to my face?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You could hear the pain and betrayal in his voice, but all you felt was a profound sense of disbelief and heartache. “Spencer, what are you talking about? That’s not true. I would never—”

“Stop lying!” he interrupted, his voice thick with tears. “I saw the picture! How could you do this to me? To us?”

Your heart broke at the sound of his despair, but the accusation, the deep mistrust, cut even deeper. “Spencer, I didn’t do anything. There isn’t a picture because I’m not cheating on you,” you pleaded, your voice cracking under the weight of your own emotions.

But Spencer was too far gone, his mind too clouded by jealousy and doubt. “I can’t believe anything you say anymore,” he whispered, his voice filled with resignation. “I thought we had something real, but now… I don’t even know who you are.”

The fight that followed was explosive, both of you hurling words that only deepened the wounds already festering between you. Every attempt you made to explain, to reassure him, was met with anger and disbelief. Spencer’s trust in you had been shattered, and no amount of reasoning could bring him back from the edge.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. The constant jealousy, the mistrust, the way he had let a baseless article destroy the bond you had worked so hard to build—it was too much. “I can’t do this, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “I love you, but I can’t live like this. I can’t be in a relationship where I’m constantly accused and doubted. It’s tearing me apart.”

There was a long, painful silence on the other end of the line, and then, in a voice that was barely above a whisper, Spencer said, “Maybe we both deserve better than this.”

Tears streamed down your face as you realized what had just happened. “Goodbye, Spencer,” you choked out, hanging up before he could say anything else.

As you stood there, staring at the phone in your hand, the enormity of what you had just done hit you like a tidal wave. You had ended things with the man you still loved deeply, because the relationship had become a minefield of jealousy and mistrust. It was the hardest decision you’d ever made, and the pain of it felt unbearable.

You were heartbroken, knowing that despite everything, your feelings for Spencer hadn’t changed. But the relationship had become toxic, and you couldn’t continue down that path. As you tried to pull yourself together, preparing to go on stage and perform as if your world hadn’t just crumbled, you couldn’t help but wonder if either of you would ever truly heal from this.

—

Spencer sat in the silence of his apartment, feeling like a shell of the person he once was. The shock of what had just happened left him numb, his mind struggling to grasp the reality of it all. You were gone, and it was his fault.

—

In the months that followed, Spencer couldn’t escape the crushing weight of what he had done. He replayed every argument, every moment of doubt, and came to a painful realization: he was the bad guy in this story.

He watched as your tour progressed, each new headline a reminder of what he had lost. The press coverage was relentless, but what struck him most was how your relationship with Billie remained the same—close, supportive, but nothing more. There was no secret romance, no hidden agenda. Just the friendship that had always been there, and that he had been too blinded by jealousy to see for what it was.

Then, the truth about the photo came out. It wasn’t you. It wasn’t even Billie. It was a completely different couple—Phoebe Bridgers and her girlfriend. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He had destroyed everything over a lie, over a distorted perception fueled by his own insecurities.

Spencer spiraled into self-loathing, he knew he had been an asshole—an irrational, emotional, accusatory, jealous, ignorant asshole. And now, he had to live with the consequences of his actions, knowing that he had let the best thing in his life slip through his fingers.

—

June, 2008

“So, Y/N… you just finished the first leg of your tour, how does it feel?” the interviewer asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.

You couldn’t help but smile, the emotions from the tour still fresh in your mind. “Oh, it feels amazing! The energy from the crowds, the love and support—it was incredible. I miss them all so much already. Honestly, I wish I could go back and say thank you again to every single person who showed up for me and made this possible. They’re the reason I get to do what I love, and I’m so grateful for that.”

“Isn’t she great?” the interviewer exclaimed, prompting cheers from the live audience. After the applause died down, the interviewer leaned in with a mischievous grin. “I have to know, if you’re comfortable, what happened to that sexy string bean you used to have on your arm?”

Spencer, who had been half-listening to your interview as usual, suddenly found himself on high alert. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for your response.

You shifted slightly in your seat, a small, wistful smile on your face. “Oh… um, we separated. But I still care for him deeply and hope he’s doing well.”

The interviewer nodded sympathetically before pressing on, “Are you seeing anyone new?”

Spencer held his breath, not sure if he wanted to hear your answer.

You shook your head, your smile more focused now. “No, I’m not. Just focusing on the tour right now! It’s hard work!”

The interviewer grinned. “I bet it is! Keeping busy with something you love is the best way to go.”

Spencer released a breath he’d been holding, a mixture of relief and lingering regret washing over him. He hadn’t moved on either.

—

July, 2008

(we pretend this is our song for the sake of the plot <3)

You released a few new songs before the second leg of your tour started, wanting to keep things fresh and exciting for your fans. Among the tracks was a deep cut, a raw and emotional song about your love for Spencer. It was a piece of your heart, a reflection of the pain, regret, and lingering love that still existed despite everything that had happened.

Spencer, however, had stopped listening to your music after the breakup. Every song felt like a reminder of what he had lost, especially the love songs that once brought him joy. The melodies that used to connect you two now only deepened his regret, making him avoid your music altogether.

But when Garcia heard your new song, she knew immediately that Spencer needed to hear it. Without hesitation, she sent it directly to him, attaching a message that read: You need to listen to this. Trust me.

Spencer hesitated when he saw the message. He knew it would hurt, but something made him press play. As the song played, the lyrics washed over him, each word piercing through the wall he had tried to build around his emotions. It was as if you were speaking directly to him, baring your soul in a way that was both beautiful and heartbreaking.

As the song ended, Spencer sat in silence, the weight of your words pressing down on him. He realized that despite everything, the love you had shared was still there, buried beneath the pain and mistakes. The song was a painful reminder of the depth of your connection, and it left him wondering if there was any way to mend what had been broken.

But as much as he wanted to reach out, he knew that no apology or explanation could undo the hurt he had caused. Spencer felt lost, grappling with the knowledge that he had loved you—and still did—yet had let his own insecurities destroy the best thing in his life.

—

Spencer had endured just about everything in his time at the FBI—being hit, kicked, shot, drugged, kidnapped—but never, in all those years, had anyone flicked him on the forehead. Until now. Derek Morgan’s fingers connected with a sharp flick, jolting Spencer out of his thoughts.

“We all know, Reid. Garcia sent the song to all of us,” Derek said, his voice laced with both sympathy and frustration. “I don’t know what you did, but I’m sure a flick doesn’t cover it.”

Spencer shook his head, the weight of guilt heavy on his shoulders. “It doesn’t,” he admitted, the truth settling like a stone in his stomach.

That night, Spencer decided he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Swallowing the last remnants of his pride, he picked up his phone and dialed your number. But when the automated message informed him that the line was no longer in service, his heart sank. You had changed your number. Still, the adrenaline coursing through his veins wouldn’t let him stop. He dialed the next number he knew by heart.

“Hello?” came the familiar voice on the other end.

“Dylan?” Spencer’s voice trembled slightly, betraying his nerves.

“Who is this?” Dylan’s tone was cold, guarded.

“Spencer Reid. Please, don’t hang up.”

“What do you want, asshole?”

Spencer flinched at the anger in Dylan’s voice, but he knew he deserved it. “I deserve that.”

“Damn right, you piece of shit. I watched my sister cry for months over you. And she didn’t do anything wrong—it was all you.”

“I know,” Spencer replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“So let me repeat myself, what do you want?”

“I want to talk to her,” Spencer said, desperation creeping into his tone.

“No fucking way.”

“Please, I need to apologize.”

“She’s moved on, she doesn’t want to hear from you,” Dylan shot back, his words cutting through Spencer like a knife.

“She moved on?” Spencer’s voice wavered, the reality of those words hitting him hard.

“Yeah, most people would by now.”

Spencer felt a painful twist in his chest, but he pressed on. “I still… I still want to apologize.”

Dylan’s voice was ice-cold. “If you actually cared about her, you’d let her go.”

“Dylan—” Spencer tried to plead, but the line went dead, the dial tone echoing in his ear.

Spencer stared at the phone in his hand, the finality of it all crashing down on him. He had lost you, not just because of his mistakes but because he hadn’t been able to see what was in front of him until it was too late.

—

“He called today.”

“What?” you asked, looking up in surprise.

“He called me.”

“Who?” But even as you asked, you felt a knot forming in your stomach, dreading the answer.

“Spencer.”

You froze. That name hadn’t been spoken around you in what felt like forever. Hearing it now sent a wave of emotions crashing over you, emotions you’d worked so hard to bury.

“Why?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Jackass said he wanted to apologize to you,” Dylan replied, his tone laced with disdain.

“After all this time?” The disbelief in your voice was evident, and you could hardly process what you were hearing.

“Mhm,” Dylan confirmed, watching your reaction carefully.

“What did you tell him?” you asked, already fearing the answer.

“That you’d moved on, that he should too,” Dylan said, his voice firm and protective.

“Oh.” The single word hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and lingering feelings.

Dylan’s voice softened, sensing your turmoil. “Y/N… he’s not worth it. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I know,” you replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks, Dylan. I’m going to bed. Goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Dylan said, his concern palpable even through the phone.

That night, as you lay in bed, you couldn’t help but wish your number hadn’t been leaked. You knew Spencer would have called you directly if he could have. And if you had answered? You might have at least heard him out, given him the chance to say the things he had left unsaid for so long.

But now, as you stared up at the ceiling, the what-ifs swirled in your mind, keeping you awake long into the night. You had moved on, or at least you told yourself you had. But the unresolved feelings, the remnants of a love that once meant everything, were still there, lurking just beneath the surface. And as much as you wanted to push them away, tonight they were impossible to ignore.

—

Hey Kade – think you can find a number for me? And not tell Dylan…

For sure, just give me a name and a city

God bless Kade. They didn't ask any questions, just worked their magic. Within minutes, Kade had sent you Spencer's number. You stared at it for a long moment, the screen glowing in the dim light of your room. Your thumb hovered over the call button, knowing that if you didn’t do it now, you’d lose your nerve.

With a deep breath, you tapped the number and pressed the phone to your ear. The ringing felt endless, each second adding to your nerves. But then, the line clicked, and his familiar voice came through.

“Spencer Reid.”

“Spencer Reid’s ex-girlfriend,” you said, your tone shy yet teasing, trying to mask the anxiety bubbling inside you.

There was a brief pause, then his voice, softer now, almost incredulous. “Y/N?”

“The one and only,” you replied, your heart racing as you tried to steady your voice.

There was another pause, this one filled with emotions that neither of you knew how to express just yet.

“You called Dylan,” you said, your voice a mix of curiosity and caution.

“I know, your old number didn’t work,” Spencer replied, his tone tinged with regret.

“Someone leaked it…” you explained softly, the memory of that chaotic time flashing through your mind. But you quickly refocused, your heart pounding as you asked the question that had been weighing on you since you heard he’d tried to reach out. “Why were you calling, Spencer?”

“I love you,” he blurted out, the words raw and desperate.

“What?” The sudden confession caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat as you tried to process what he had just said.

“Your song, i love you. Did you mean it? Do you still love me?” His voice cracked with vulnerability, and you could hear the pleading in his words, the desperation of a man who had realized too late what he had lost.

“Spencer…” You hesitated, the pain and love intertwined so tightly within you that it was hard to speak.

“I’m begging you, Y/N. Do you love me?” The vulnerability in his voice was palpable, and you could almost see him, his heart in his hands, waiting for your response.

“Of course I do,” you finally admitted, the truth spilling out before you could stop it.

“Are you in New York?” Spencer asked, his voice filled with hope.

“Yes,” you replied, your heart racing as the conversation took a turn you hadn’t expected.

“Can I come see you?” His question hung in the air, the possibility of seeing him again making your pulse quicken.

“Right now?” you asked, still trying to catch up with the sudden shift in your emotions.

“Right now, I can be there by 4 pm,” he responded, the determination in his voice unmistakable.

“Okay,” you said, the word slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.

“Okay? Really?” Spencer’s voice was filled with a mix of surprise and relief.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, a small smile forming on your lips. “You remember where I live?”

“By heart,” he replied, and you could hear the warmth in his voice.

“See you soon, Spence,” you said softly, the familiar nickname bringing a wave of nostalgia and comfort.

“See you soon,” he echoed, and with that, the call ended, leaving you with a whirlwind of emotions and the realization that in just a few hours, Spencer would be standing at your door.

—

Spencer spent the entire train ride to New York mentally rehearsing what he would say to you. He went over every possible scenario, trying to find the right words to express everything he felt—the regret, the love, the longing. But as the train pulled into the station and he made his way to your apartment, his mind went blank. By the time he was standing at your door, all his carefully planned words had vanished.

His hand, seemingly moving on its own, raised to knock. The sound echoed in the quiet hallway, and within moments, the door swung open.

When you appeared in the doorway, his breath caught in his throat. You looked even more beautiful than he remembered, if that was even possible.

“Hey,” you said softly, your eyes searching his, filled with emotions.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

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

tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @noelliece

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jjenthusee · 12 days

Text

Woven Hands

jason todd x reader

A/N: thank u to @heavysighing-dreamyeyes for their post linked here for their jason headcanons, they got me dancing and swinging my feet while I wait for my classes. 🤭 ENJOY my small drabble, tell me ur thoughts in the comments :D

also small rant but tell me why i never undated my tumblr app and i was struggling for so long and everything didn’t look like how it was supposed to? 😀 please don’t be like me and update yo shiz like responsible human beings

“Don’t make me do this.” You muttered, standing on top of the couch cushions, water gun hoisted in your pocket, filled completely with sink water.

You felt the weight of the water droop in your pants, you squinted, trying to frighten your opponent. You didn’t have a holster, so your sweatpants pocket was the next best thing.

The couch increased your height, made you stand tall, allowed your voice to be more direct. You wanted to overpower Jason, part-time Red Hood, full time smack talker.

“And what are you gonna do if I don’t listen?” Jason’s eyes lowered, voice deepening to a menacing tone. Invisible cowboy hat tilted on his head.

He stood tall, spreading his legs shoulder width apart, letting muscle memory place him in an opposing stance that’s proven effective each time someone has tried to stupidly test the Red Hood.

He lowered his hands, fingers dancing in the air as he waited to reach for his water gun in his holster.

Lucky fucker was wearing a holster because he’s the Red Hood. Not only does he get a cheat, but he has two water guns?

Completely absurd.

“You might not live long enough to find out.” You tilted your chin up, trying to attempt to be arrogant, but the smirk on Jason’s face was telling you it wasn’t as effective as you hoped.

Maybe if you could actually be taller than him, it would make you sound tough, but looking from just above his eye-level was the best you were going to get.

Jason’s shook his head, slowly, calculating your moves as he never took his eyes off of you.

You met his stare, never blinking as you watched.

You could feel your eyes wavering, shaking the longer you looked.

Jason was calm, his stare locked onto you. Countless interrogations under his belt, aiding him the experience you didn’t have.

“You know we both can’t walk away from this. We have too much history.” He spoke, letting the words settle between your showdown.

You firmly frowned.

“I stand by what I said and if you can’t live with that…I guess you leave me with no other choice.” You quickly grabbed your water gun, angling it to your partner.

By the time you could pull the trigger, water was hitting your shirt. Soaking into your skin as you looked down, watching the fabric darken.

Like in slow motion, you fell to your knees, watching Jason also get his shirt soaked, but not nearly enough as yours.

“No, no, it wasn’t supposed to end like this.” You dropped your plastic water gun, reaching up with your free hands to grab your shirt.

You plopped down onto the couch, letting your body go limp as you laid there.

“I told you, only one of us would walk away from this.” Jason walked over, kneeling next to the couch, where your body lay.

You reach up, feigning shaking hands as you reached for the muscular man with his imaginary cowboy hat.

You gestured for Jason to lean closer, following along with your antics.

You carefully lowered your voice to a whisper, a final wish.

“Delete my search history.”

You closed your eyes, arms going limp as you stuck your tongue out in a bad rendition of fake dying.

Jason laughed, reaching out to grab your hands in between his warm ones.

You never moved, zeroing in on the feeling of your fingers.

Soft caresses. A small peck before Jason littered your knuckles in kisses. Kissing down to your finger tips, then repeating down to your wrists.

“I should’ve chosen a sword fight, how could I choose water guns of all things?” You opened your eyes, shaking your head as Jason continued to worship your skin.

“You’re just pouting.” He said in between kisses, nose pressed into your palm.

“Come on, you always get to kiss my hands, when can I hold yours?” You watched carefully, thoughts slowly lost to the repeated warmth from Jason’s lips.

“Wanna sword fight to find out?” Jason smiled into your hands.

end a/n: serial hand kisser jason changed my life, thank u pooks for ur headcanons and restructuring my brain. and thank u 🫵 for reading my drabble, i just thought this was a silly idea :D

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #writing

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palioom · 7 months

Text

starving

summary: joel comes back from patrol to find you have kept your promise to him.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; established relationship; overstimulation; orgasm denial/edging; dirty talk (joel has a filthy mouth); oral (f receiving); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some softness in the end; choking (a lil)

a/n: we're back after almost a month of hiatus, with a fic also written last summer! I hope you enjoy

thank you to my love @aurasjournal for the moodboard 🖤

IMPORTANT as tlou is made by a Zionist, as well as part 2 being based on the oppression of Palestine by Israel, I urge you to educate yourself in the light of the genocide happening in Palestine, specifically Gaza, right now. I cannot in good conscience post for Joel without bringing awareness to the horrific things that have been going on for 5 months.

banners by @/saradika-graphics

follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates

She had been wound up tight all week - always was when Joel was on patrol somewhere, made worse by the fact that the way back had been cut off by an unexpected, small avalanche.

She was worried about whether he was safe up there with Tommy. He would be. Joel was good at surviving things, she gathered that much from the little talking he had done with her.

He was an interesting man, only too quiet, never liked to talk about his past too much, so she had gathered everything of importance from Ellie or Tommy once they had become a little more serious.

Of course he’d be fine.

But if she had known he’d be gone for a little over a week instead of a day or two, she never would have promised him shit before he left.

“Don’t you dare touch yourself, darlin’.” He had said to her before he left, his rough, calloused palm on the softness of her cheek. “Wanna see her dripping and needy for me when I come back.”

Oh, dripping and needy she was. And it was even now, having fought the urge back ever since day three.

Day one was easy, two became just a little annoying, so used to having his thick length buried inside of her almost daily. Unless he had to patrol, which really was the only time he didn’t fuck her.

Because even when he was too exhausted, she would simply turn him onto his back and bounce on his dick until she was satisfied. Much to his amusement.

On day three, the throbbing between her legs became more than annoying, it bothered her, clouding her thinking. It was tempting to just sneak her hand into her underwear at home and get herself off with her fingers.

But she didn’t, only squeezing her thighs together to find some semblance of relief.

After that, things had only gone downhill.

So when he was finally back, safe and unharmed, it hadn’t taken long to go from sweet kisses by the entrance to demanding ones in their bedroom.

Ready to burst right here.

Joel had barely managed to take his thick winter coat off before she had dragged him there, his large hands now opening her flannel, then wandering beneath her undershirt to feel her warm skin.

A hiss left her, caught by his mouth as he pushed his tongue against hers, goosebumps breaking out on her skin at how icy he felt. Pressing himself against her as if to warm himself.

He was fucking freezing, his fingertips a little numb despite his thick gloves, and she was so damn warm, he just couldn’t help himself.

“Fuckin’ missed you, sweetheart.” Joel rasped, hands leaving her skin to open her jeans as quickly as he could, slowly regaining the feeling in his fingertips. “Been a good girl for me?”

She hummed affirmatively, stilling when he shoved his hand down the front of her jeans.

“Oh, baby, she’s desperate.”

His cold fingers pressed against her clit over the wet material of her panties, the change in temperature making her shiver. That was almost enough to make her cum, her hand coming to claw at his wrist.

“Not like this- Fuck me, Joel.” She whispered, desperate and impatient.

Surprised that he just pulled his hand back out, now hastily working to get her undressed, her own hands started working on his pants.

The air felt even colder when he had her naked, pushing her onto the bed, leaning over her to kiss and nip at her neck, then down to her chest.

His beard scratched over her skin, her hands in his grey hair, slightly wet from the snow.

Like a man starving, he sucked bruises into her skin, bit at her until small imprints showed. Showed she was his.

Joel knew he didn’t have to worry, there were no signs she would ever stray. Not with the way he fucked her, the way he took care of her.

She had it too damn good with him, he kept the creeps away and generally kept an eye out for her.

Still, he liked to show she was his, that no one else could have her, even if they tried.

His tongue found her pebbled nipple, sucking it into his mouth while his hand squeezed and pinched at her other breast, making her arch into his touch with a drawn out whine.

She was always so responsive to his touch.

So cold but so good, goosebumps on her skin, hands tugging at his hair.

“Stop teasing.” She whispered breathlessly, earning a harder bite from him, his dark eyes finding hers as he looked up at her. So hungry.

“Someone’s impatient.” His mouth wandered lower, despite his words, hands staying on her breasts when he found her wet heat.

Joel's tongue dipped into her and made her moan, just about ready to burst. Especially with the way his tongue flicked over her clit, sucking on it before letting the tip glide over it again.

Joel noticed how quickly her legs started shaking, her fingers curling into his hair tightly, his own digging into her thighs as he spread her open. Feeling her muscles spasm below her skin as he kept licking at her, eating her out like she was his last meal.

It happened way too fast, throwing her head back as the coil inside her tightened and snapped so suddenly, her body shaking as her orgasm rushed through her unexpectedly.

“Oh fuck- Joel-” She moaned, her legs fighting against his broad hands but he kept her spread open, working her through it.

Too worked up from him having been gone that she just couldn’t last any longer, feeling a little self conscious about just how quickly he had pulled her apart already.

“Seriously, sweetheart?” Joel asked when he lifted his head, looking up at her from where he kneeled between her open thighs. His beard was wet with her, a ravenous expression on his face. “That was way too damn short, darlin’.”

His words burned on her skin, unable to look him in the eyes so she stared at the ceiling instead.

That really was embarrassingly fast, her fingers carding through his silvery hair.

“Sorry, Joel. I’ve been so damn horny all week and-”

He shushed her, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh. His beard scratching her, making her shiver.

“Let’s go a little longer, I’m not done with you yet.” His chuckle was deep, tongue finding her middle again with a hum.

She whined, still a little sensitive as he worked his tongue over her clit repeatedly, back arching and her fingers curling back into his locks.

The heat came back immediately, settling in her abdomen, his tongue now moving down to find her soaking entrance, pushing inside.

Feeling her pulse around him when he fucked into her, his nose bumping against her clit in time with his movements, making her whine.

“Right there, Joel, yes!” She breathed, already feeling another orgasm approaching rapidly. “I’m close already, fuck. You feel good.”

Pushing her over a second time, he made her cry out, her legs shaking as he once again worked her through it.

But he didn’t stop.

Joel just kept going, not giving her time to come down from her high, the buzz steadily moving through her body.

It was then that she realized he really was far from done with her, looking down at him with furrowed brows, while the glint in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“Joel-” She whined, feeling another rush coming, trying to scramble away from him somehow but he had an iron grip on her thighs.

He hummed against her, shaking his head No. She could swear he was grinning, doubling down on his efforts, tearing another orgasm from her.

The pleasure bordered on pain at this point, every nerve feeling like it was on fire as she shook, his tongue alternating between her clit and her pulsing hole.

God, he could be such an asshole, going on until tears were in her eyes, right on the brink of the fourth one.

Leaning back and licking his lips while he looked at her, squirming and shaking. A gasp left her when he worked two of his thick fingers into her, her legs clamping shut around his arm as he began to pump them in and out of her.

“Told you I’m not done with you yet, darlin’.” He rasped, using his other hand to open her legs again, teeth sinking into the soft skin before his tongue soothed over the marks. “She’s hungry still, must’ve been starving the whole time.”

Her hands fisted the sheets, head rolling from side to side as he built her up, scissoring his fingers before pushing into that soft spot inside of her again.

Then he let her fall, pulling his fingers out, laughing at the long whine that left her, the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Like she didn’t know what she wanted, to cum again or to be left alone.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry.” Joel chuckled, like he was mocking her. Somehow she liked it, the pulsing between her legs becoming worse, feeling empty. “Thought I’d give your little pussy some lovin’, she must have been so neglected.”

She lifted her head, trying to glare daggers at him but failing when his fingers rubbed over her clit, once again building her up just short of the peak, then removing them, his hand finding her breast, groping and squeezing at it.

What wonderful sounds she made, first feeling too much and now too little.

Maybe he should leave for extended periods more often, she clearly enjoyed the way he treated her right now, making up for time lost but also depriving her of what she really wanted.

“You’re mean.” She gasped, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

She looked so fucked out already, yet he hadn’t even gotten his fill.

“I can be mean, sweetheart.” Joel said, letting go of her again and standing up, just watching how she writhed, deprived of his rough palms. “Wouldn’t like me when I am.”

“Joel, please!” She cried, one of her hands wandering over her stomach and to her aching pussy. But Joel was quicker, grabbing her wrist tightly.

“Don’t worry, baby, gonna get what you want when you’re fucking patient.” He said, letting go of her, moving to take off his pants. “Spent a whole week without me, can wait a couple minutes longer, can’t you?”

She watched him, growing frustrated at just how slowly he seemed to take off his jeans, then his underwear.

Then, finally, his hard cock was springing free, head glistening with precum.

Hovering over her, he nestled in between her legs.

She squirmed more, her hands running over his arms, feeling his muscles flex beneath the skin, coming up to cup his cheeks.

“So, so needy.” He chuckled, taking himself in hand, hitting her sensitive clit with the fat head of his cock a few times. The action made her whimper, fingers curling into his arms.

Shooting electricity through her, her whole body taut, just needing him to push inside of her.

“Joel, can you fucking move?”

The corner of his lips curled slightly upwards, finding her entrance before pushing inside with one fluid motion, knocking the air out of her at the sudden intrusion.

His lips attached to her neck with a groan, feeling how tight she was gripping him. Like she wanted to strangle his dick, always so damn tight.

“Don’t get mouthy with me, sweetheart.” Joel said, hooking her leg over his hips, squeezing the soft flesh.

“‘M not.” She gasped, feeling so full of him, ready to burst again.

Slowly he began to move, shallow at first before thrusting deeper.

Pushing her up higher on the bed with each thrust, making her cry out and hold onto him, her head too dizzy and hazy as he fucked into her, letting out the week’s frustrations.

All that escaped her were incoherent ramblings, slurred whimpers and moans as she threw her head back, exposing more of her neck to him, his lips still dancing over the skin.

“Shut up pretty fast with some cock in you, sweet darlin’.” He chuckled, voice strained and clearly losing himself slowly. Her wet pussy and her cockdrunk face were too much even for him after he’d been away from her that long.

He’d gone without it for longer, but now that he could fuck her every night, even just a day had seemed like an awfully long time.

“Joel-” She mewled, voice high-pitched and so, so desperate.

“Yeah, tell me who makes you feel this good.” Joel said, lifting his head to look at her, one of his broad, rough hands coming up to wrap around her throat. Making her gasp as he squeezed the sides lightly, feeling her pulse throb in time with her sweet hole around him. “Say it, baby, keep sayin’ it. Whose cock is feeding your starvin’ pussy?”

She opened her eyes, finding his dark ones.

“You- Yours, Joel!” She cried out, feeling her head become lighter as he cut off the blood flow, hazy smile on her face, jaw slack as he fucked into her. The words caught on her breath as she forced them out, stuttering. “Your cock, fucking- Fucking me so good!”

Joel almost snarled, thrusting harder, losing his rhythm. Jaw set so tight she could see the veins throb on his neck.

“That’s right, pretty girl. Hungry little pussy, what a poor thing.” He groaned, grip tightening around her throat, grinning at the way her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “C’mon, be a good girl and let me feed it.”

The coil inside her snapped again, almost painfully as she sucked in a shaky breath, her cries muffled by his mouth when he bent down to slot his lips over hers. Her heels dug into his lower back, pulling him deeper as she trembled, nails digging into his skin.

Everything hurt as he kept pounding into her, her veins filled with fire, his skin against hers hot, like it was burning her, her clit too sensitive as the coarse hair above his dick kept brushing against it.

But she loved it, the pleasure that wasn’t bordering on pain anymore, but actually hurt her in the best way possible, her entire body too stimulated.

It didn’t need much more for him to break, stilling inside her with a hiss that was swallowed by her mouth as he spilled himself inside of her, giving her exactly what she needed. Filled to the brim by his cock and his cum, humming as the pulsing of him didn’t seem to end, his hand around her throat just tightening a little more.

He loosened his grip when he felt her legs falling away from his waist, moving back to look at her face, blissed out while her body became boneless beneath him.

“My good girl.” He said, seeming less tense as he hovered above her still, the corners of his mouth slightly curled upwards, his hand moving up to brush some hair from her damp forehead. “Been too hungry.”

She giggled, catching her breath, feeling the blood rush back into her head as she laid there, feeling him soften inside of her.

“Not anymore.” The words were barely more than a quiet mumble, her weak hand coming up to cup his cheek, his coarse beard biting into the soft flesh of her palm. “Really missed you, though.”

In the quiet afterglow, the worry finally crept back in. She had been too pent up, too excited when he had walked into the door earlier, relieved to see him back but her need for him drove away all the worries of the past week.

Joel saw the change in her face, kissing her forehead tenderly.

“Been at the lodge when it happened, don’t worry, sweetheart.” He said, seeing her nod in understanding.

Silence fell between them, and she grew tired as she looked up at him, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Joel had worn her out pretty well, boneless and spent.

After pulling out slowly, he helped her get under the covers, his body finally warm again as he pulled her against his chest.

“You can take longer patrols, you know.” She said, her hot breath fanning over his neck where she had buried her face. “Hated you being away but if you fuck me like this every time you come home…”

Her words trailed off into the silence, making him chuckle.

“But no avalanches.” He said, making her giggle. “Love when she’s starved for me, sweetheart. Will see what I can do tomorrow, yeah?”

She nodded, eyes closing and enjoying his warmth again, his firm body against hers, strong arm wrapped around her waist.

Yeah, if he fucked her like this every time he came home from a long stretch of patrol, she definitely could manage being away from him for some time.

Starving for his touch and his cock.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #the last of us hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedrostories #my writing

1K notes · View notes

bandgie · 3 months

Text

Little 'Lix

warnings! mdni18+, smallcock!felix, pussy job, v slight pussy play, squirting, Felix is self-conscious, blow job, handjob, semi-erections

notes! I've wanted to write a tiny penis fic for a while but I also haven't updated in a while so I might be rusty :(

2.2k words

Felix would hardly call this a lie. It was simply never brought up, or as he’s telling you right now…

“You never asked.” Felix shrugs, his back slumped against the couch with his arms folded over his chest as if extremely uninterested in your current ministrations. His pants are down to his ankles with his cock - if you could even call it that - barely peeking through the slit of his boxers. He’s not hard, can’t be when you’re looking at him like this: eyes wide with shock, mouth open with the same emotion as you look upon his crotch.

You don’t mean to be so flabbergasted. “I just- I had assumed- Well, cuz your voice is so deep and…” you’re babbling. None of your reasons explain why you thought Felix would be hung and now you feel so stupid for believing his vocal cords would play a role in his size.

He would never tell you, but he’s hurt. You can tell by how his jaw tenses and his eyes water. “It’s fine. I know it’s small. Just forget it.”

“No!” You put a hand on Felix’s wrist to stop him from tucking his flaccid cock back into his boxers. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He gives you a look that makes you further go into panic mode. “I swear! I was just…surprised, but it doesn’t matter to me! I swear on everything, Felix, I’m not upset or disappointed or whatever.”

And it’s true. Maybe your reaction says otherwise, but you’re beyond willing to do what you promised your best friend - to make him feel good.

Felix is understandably hesitant. After seeing your initial shock and his anxiety surrounding his size, he isn’t sure if he can get half-erect. It’s the apologetic eagerness that he sees in your eyes that makes him nod. “O-okay. But I don't even know if I can get hard.”

You’re already scrambling on your knees, hands on his dainty thighs that you smooth over with your palms. “That’s okay, it’s cute just like this,” You plant a gentle kiss on his cock, moving your hands so you can tug his boxers off until his little cock is completely exposed.

It’s so limp. No guy would ever let a girl see them in such a state. It makes you feel almost special that Felix would give you such privilege. His dick is no bigger than your thumb. The head of his cock is covered by skin that you stroke with three fingers up and down.

Slowly, of course. You know that moving too fast would only cause Felix discomfort. He’s already on edge as it is with his fisted hands at his sides. As much as you want to feel him harden on your tongue, you satiate your mouth by peppering kisses on his thighs. His skin feels soft against your lips and tastes slightly metallic against your tongue. Your fingers change from stroking to caressing, the tips of your digits tracing against his veins before you circle his covered tip.

Felix hums. The first signs of feeling pleasure. Your stomach pools with pride and arousal, underwear dampening. You playfully bite down on his milky thighs, smiling up at him as he grins back at you.

“You really like my legs, hm?” He asks. You nod, but then stop moving your head to answer with words instead. “They’re so pretty. Everything about you is so pretty.”

Despite him looking away, you can see the blush creeping up to his cheeks. He pinches his lips together bashfully while you giggle. Felix is always so endearing, so innocent even with his tiny cock barely hardening against your fingers. You take the opportunity to finally place your mouth where you want it.

You hear him sharply inhale when you wrap your lips around the head. It hardly peeks from the skin, but it’s enough for you to swipe your tongue gently on his tip. His fingers restlessly uncurl and curl. You think he’ll take the initiative to thread them through your hair, but he keeps them planted on the couch. With one of your own hands, you grab his wrist to place it on the back of your head.

Even with his small hand now in your hair, he doesn't push you down. Felix doesn’t so much as tighten his grip, content with you setting a pace. He doesn’t shove you deeper when you focus on his tip. He doesn’t yank on your hair when you harshly suck on it. You almost feel like you're sucking on a dildo rather than a person with how pliant he’s being.

He has to break, you’re sure of it. Felix’s cock can somewhat stand up on its own now, though you can tell he’s not at his full hardest. Testingly, you dip your head lower. Lower until his pubes tickle your nose and your lips touch his pelvis.

Felix groans, hips just slightly bucking as you easily swallow him whole. You hollow your cheeks and suck, barely bobbing your head up and down so his cock has friction. His fingers curl around your hair, and as if he realizes what he’s doing, he forces them loose again. You groan on his cock, accidentally stimulating him further.

Then you pop off his dick almost annoyed.

“Why are you holding back?” You ask, keeping one of your hands on his thighs while the other hand has a few fingers stroking him. Felix has a certain glaze over his eyes, his face tinted with a pretty pink as he blinks at you. It takes a few seconds for your words to register before he says, “Huh?”

You lay your head on his lap, trying your best to look cute and not just a little bit irked. “Like, you can push my head, ya’ know? You can move me how you want to. I don't mind.”

But your tricks don’t work. Felix looks somewhat guilty as his thumb strokes the back of your head soothingly. “I- I dunno. I’m okay like this.”

“Are you sure?” You can’t help but press. “We can do anything you like. I want you to feel good.”

Your words aren’t working, not when you see the aroused look turn nervous. His cock would have completely gone soft again if it wasn’t for your spit-soaked fingers continuously stroking him. “I am feeling good, but I want you to feel good,” he counters. “I’m just so fucking small. I would never be able to-”

“Stop,” you sound firm. “You’re perfect. Nothing about you is too big or too small. And f.y.i, I am feeling good.”

That seems to stop him in his tracks. Felix looks at you confused, “You are?”

“I am,” you confirm, but you know words aren't enough. Not when Felix is thinking about what he’s lacking in the back of his mind even with you sucking on him off. You lift your head and raise to your feet, unbuttoning your shorts and tossing them on the couch along with your underwear.

Felix’s eyes latch to your core, but you don’t give him a good view as you set both of your legs on either side of his thighs to straddle. Your arms wrap around his neck and you hover over his cock that’s beginning to stir awake again.

With your face this close to his, Felix has no choice but to look into your sincere and determined eyes. “How about I show you, yeah?”

He gulps, large Adam's apple bobbing as he regards you. “I-I-I’m not hard and-”

“And you can leave it all to me. You don’t gotta worry your pretty little head about anything. I got it.” There’s a slight hint of authority in your voice that Felix listens to immediately. He shuts up and braces his hands on his couch, again, as you place your cunt on his cock.

Your clit drags on him, slowly grinding yourself up and down as a warm-up. It feels more like a hot, big finger rather than a dick, but it gives enough pleasure to grip Felix’s shoulders and rub just a little harder.

It gets easier to slide within seconds, your arousal coating his thighs and shy cock. Felix’s timid hands finally find purchase on your hips, hardly applying enough pressure to set a pace, but enough to let you know he’s enjoying what you’re doing.

“Like that?” You ask, a smile on your lips that Felix so desperately wants to taste.

He nods, “Yeah. Yeah. It’s so warm.”

Of course it’s warm, any body part would be, but pride still swells in your chest and your cheeks color pink. “Mhm. It’d be warmer in me too, if you want.” You add the last part like a second thought, knowing that Felix’s self-consciousness hasn’t completely gone away yet. He hums, leaning close to brush his nose against yours and sighs. “I like it just like this. I wouldn't mind a kiss though.”

You giggle, nodding and letting him close the distance with gentleness. Kissing Felix is nothing new, but having his cock between your cunt lips while you hump it is. His lips are sweet as always. You’ve once said that kissing him felt like a hug for your mouth and that’s true even now. You feel nothing but comfort when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip, sucking on the flesh until his teeth take hold of it.

For a split second, you forget about his little friend until he presses you harder on it. His hands aren't scared when he’s focused on your mouth, going as far as to gently rock his hips with you. You moan in his mouth, working your lower body to match his pace eagerly. His cock doesn’t feel as limp. It doesn’t slip and slide as much as before, now able to stand on its own with little help from his thighs.

He already told you he wouldn’t be able to get fully erect. Not even with his groans and love bites, but you don’t mind. It still feels good to rub on him just like this, clit catching his head and dragging down to his balls before you do it all over again. The pace gets rougher, quicker when you feel the subtle, familiar feeling bubble in your stomach. Touching your clit always makes you cum fast and having his cock the perfect size only makes you aching to go faster. The back of your thighs clap against his when you start to bounce.

His cock can only reach so high and he was so sure that you wouldn’t be able to cum like this, but he’s proven wrong when you start grinding on his pelvis. Maybe he should feel just a little ashamed that his cock can’t even be long enough for you to fully grind on, but he finds himself loving your wet pussy sliding on his tummy. Felix digs his fingers deeper into your hips, pulling you closer so that you can use his body how you like. It doesn’t matter if he can’t finish. To him, the only orgasm that matters is yours.

Properly kissing Felix is near impossible with how much you’re moaning. He’s doing all the work by keeping your lips near and reaching his tongue to run against them.

A deep giggle from him sends shivers down your spine. You match his smile but whimper when one of his hands moves to the space between you to stretch your cunt in a v-shape. Now your clit is completely exposed to his dick, his hips rutting just perfectly against your nub.

“Fuck. W-Where did you learn that?” Your hazy eyes look for an answer in his own.

Another laugh. Felix shakes his head so that his blonde hair slightly covers his face. “Turns out there’s a lot you don’t know about your best friend.”

Apparently not, but ignorance is bliss. You’re more than willing to let your closest friend use his hidden techniques to make you cum. Felix brings you closer when his thumb stretches to directly touch your clit. It’s almost too much, too overwhelming for you to be played with.

But it works. Especially with Felix swallowing your moans and coaxing your sounds onto his tongue. His tiny fingers alongside his tiny cock work their magic sliding against you. Your orgasm builds until you feel yourself shaking, head tilting back so that Felix can suck your throat.

The combination of his soft mouth kissing your skin and how he works your lower half finally sends you over. His tongue lavishes the side of your neck just above your shoulder. You shudder and gasp, cunt clenching around nothing and hands grasping his upper arms with force.

“Felix! FelixFelixFelix, I’m cumming.” You groan out. Your body stills but he keeps his hips moving. His thrusts slow, feeling your pussy pulse against his cock from your orgasm. He moans at your whimpers, the way you chant his name. Felix doesn’t think you could get hotter until he feels a wet splash on his tummy. He pulls away from your throat to look down, eyes widening to see your cunt leaking with clear fluid that lands on his tummy and cock.

Strong, but lean arms hold your steady while you tremble. Curiously, Felix flicks his thumb across your clit and gasps when you squirt more on him. You tilt your head down and look at him pleadingly. “D-don’t be mean.” He looks up at you and grins. Turns out there were a few things he didn’t know about you either.

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz lee felix #skz felix #skz yongbok #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix smut #felix x reader #lee felix #stray kids felix

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wintfleur · 8 months

Note

hi!! starting off, I love ur works omg theyre so cute im crying. I wanted to request a lando x f!reader where its set up after the Vegas crash :( and shes like very anxious and jittery even after they confirmed he was okay, she doesn't wanna let go of him and hes comforting her even though he was the one that was hurt. Im so sorry if this was too long!!!! love ur writing <3

ꔫ darling, I’m okay I promise

°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )

°. — summary ( you hate to see lando hurt, and lando hates to see his girlfriend worry )

°. — details ( g; angst?, comfort, fluff? w; kissing, I think that’s all wc; 1.9k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( it wasn’t to long don’t worry about it! I love detailed requests! Also thank youu, I’m so happy you love my writings 🥹 so sorry for how long it took me to get it out! I loved writing this! Please don’t be a silent reader, I love to hear your thoughts! )

main masterlist f1 masterlist

You forgot how to breathe for a few moments when his crash was shown on the screen, you immediately felt a cold blanket of fear cover you as you brought your hand to cover your mouth, year eyes blurring with unshed tears. You've seen many crashes before so you could tell that this crash was bad, and your mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusions. You only looked away from the screen when you felt a soft hand on your shoulder, you blinked away your tears and looked at Max who was giving you a small smile, but you could see the worry in his eyes for his best friend.

“Don't worry, you know lando he's going to be fine” Max nodded, moving to turn his body so you would be out of the sight of the camera that would definitely try to pan to you to see your reaction. ‘Lando Norris’s Girlfriends reaction to His Las Vegas gp crash’ Max could already see the headlines and all the tweets of your reaction all over the internet. You sniffle and do your best to give him a smile

“Yeah of course”

You didn't believe your words or max’s.

Max and Pietra didn't want to leave you alone, especially after the news of lando immediately being sent to the hospital came out, but you had reassured them that you were fine being alone in lando’s room in the garage, telling them to continue to watch the race. You couldn't watch any more of the race, feeling nauseous as you watched the cars continue and Lando's wrecked car being towed away, pieces of the car being cleaned up. The sweet couple had only left you alone when your phone rang, a call from lando’s mother.

You had calmed down a little as you talked with Cisca, you loved Lando's mother so much, and even though she was also worried, she reassured you that her son would be fine. The two of you stayed on the phone for a while until she had to go, ending the call with a i love you and letting her know that you would keep her updated on any news you would get. And as soon as the call ended those fearful thoughts came back.

You tried to busy yourself, cleaning up his room a little and hanging up Lando's clothes that he previously wore and didn't hang up, not wanting them to get wrinkly. But by the time you were done, there was still no news, so you sat on the small couch, your leg absentmindedly bouncing as you tried to focus on anything in the room other than your thoughts. You got bored staring at the wall, so you distracted yourself with a game lando had downloaded on your phone, claiming that he had no more room on his phone.

You looked away from the bottom of the screen of your phone that was filled with the bright colors of the game and to the top when you heard the familiar ding of a text. It was from a number you didn't have saved, but you quickly pressed on the notification. It was a picture of Lando smiling at the hospital, the message under the picture letting her know that Lando was fine and would be coming back soon. You knew it was someone from McLaren who texted you, Lando must have given them your number since his phone was in his bag next to you. You quickly thanked them.

You turned your phone off with a relieved sigh now that you knew that your boyfriend was okay, but that worry and fear still didn't go away, if anything you became more anxious. He didn't get hurt, this time. Every time he gets into that car there is a chance that he would get hurt, it makes you dizzy the longer you think of it. You remembered the talk you had with Cisca when you and lando first started dating, you had asked her how she copes with the fear of lando getting hurt or worse in the car. She had explained that the fear never leaves, you just become better at dealing with it. You had felt reassured and scared at the same time by her words.

You quickly texted Cisca letting her know that lando is okay, sending her the picture as well. A small smile forming on your lips when she responds saying ‘he's so silly’. You really wished he was here already, you lean your head back against the couch, your fidgeting fingers folding on your lap so you could stop picking at the skin around your nails, a bad habit you thought you had gotten rid of.

You tried to think of anything positive as you waited for your boyfriend to come back, hoping that the time would move faster. You thought of the vacation you, Lando and your friends would be going on after the season ends, you thought about how nice it's going to be waking up with him every day in your shared apartment. You missed the domestic life you had with Lando during the off season. He missed it too.

Your eyes flustered opened, and your head snapped up at the sound of the door to the room opening. Your eyes immediately go to the door, and you are quick to your feet when you see your boyfriend open the door and quickly shut it behind him, his arms already open for you. You rush to his arms, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing your eyes shut as you basically shoved your face in his neck. Lando smiles and wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you tight, his eyes shutting as well as the both of you just basking in the feeling of being in each other's arms again.

You held onto him tighter, but not too tight because you worried it might hurt him. Feeling his heartbeat against you and the image of his crash replaying through your head and remembering the fear you felt brought tears to your eyes. You nestled your face against his neck, the feeling of your nose brushing against his neck almost made him laugh, the smile on his lips turned to a frown when he heard you sniffle, holding in your tears.

“Please don't cry darling, I’m okay” Lando whispered as he brought one of his hands under your shirt, his warm hand caressing the skin on your back. He could tell that you were doing your best to hold it in, you hated seeing him hurt, he knew that crash wasn't easy for you to watch, and he hated that he was the one making you so worried. Your voice comes out muffled against his neck as your refused to let him go “I was so scared Lando.”

“I know baby, i know” Lando mumbled, bringing his other hand to the back of your nape to softly pull you back from his neck so he could see your face. You opened your eyes to look up into his and Lando felt his heart string get pulled when he saw the tears in your eyes, he hated seeing you cry. Lando moved his hand from your nape to cup your cheek, his thumb softly caressing your cheek “Darling, I’m okay I promise.”

“You promise” you asked as your eyes searched for signs in his eyes and face that he wasn't okay. Lando didn't like not being the best he could be, and he didn't like worrying you. He wouldn't lie to you; he would just try to protect you from the truth. Lando smiles and leans down, softly kissing your lips between his words “I promise darling” he rested his forehead against yours as he reluctantly pulled away from your lips.

You moved your hands from his shoulders and trailed them down to his arms where you softly gripped onto them and pulled him towards the couch, wanting him to rest as much as he could before the two of you could get back to the hotel. Lando sat on the couch, and you were quick to nestle yourself into his side, his arm around your shoulder and your arm around his stomach and your head on his chest.

“Baby i'm not going to disappear if you let go” Lando chuckles once he feels you squeeze him again, as if you were checking that he truly was there. You frown at the thought and find yourself clinging to him tighter, one of your legs moving to drape over one of his knees, wanting to be as close to your boyfriend as you can “I don't want to take the chance.”

“Don't worry darling, you're stuck with me” Lando smiled fondly as he thought of his future with you, he brushed your hair out of your face and placed a soft and long kiss on your forehead. You smiled and started to absentmindedly move your hand up and down lando’s side in a soothing motion that always calmed lando down “I like the sound of that.”

“You know what I like the sound of?” Lando asked you as he moved his hand that wasn't on your shoulder to your thigh, gently squeezing it. You hummed and tilted your head up to look at him, waiting for his answer. Lando could hear the faint loudness of everything going on outside the room they were in, and he desperately wanted the two of you away from the loudness. He didn't want to admit it but he was also still a little shaken up from his crash, but he wanted to put on a brave face for you. He smiled down at you “Me, you, our hotel bed, and room service.”

“The things I would do for some French fries” you playfully groaned as you shook your head, Lando's idea sounded amazing, the two of you snuggled up in bed watching a movie as you ate. Lando smirked and he rubbed your thigh as he whispered teasingly in your ear “Tell me more.”

“Lando!” You exclaimed with a shy smile, hiding your face in his chest, feeling flustered from his seductive and teasing tone. Lando laughs loudly, throwing his head back against the couch, very much enjoying your bashfulness. You pout and sit up straight from leaning against him, watching as he laughs at your expense, your boyfriend always did love to tease you.

You give him a deadpan look once he lifts his head up to give you a smile “I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t” Lando smiles cheekily and before you could respond, he brought his hand that was resting on your shoulder to the back of your nape, pulling you down for a much-desired kiss. You let out a hum of surprise at the quick movement, but you close your eyes and move your hand from his side to cup his cheek, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

You only pull away from the kiss for a moment to catch your breath, but Lando was eager to lock your lips back into a kiss, trailing his hand down from your nape to your back, pressing your body against his. You let Lando take control of the kiss, your mouth parting and his tongue slipping in. As much as you loved to kiss your boyfriend, you really didn't want to get caught making out with him in his room. So, you reluctantly pull away from the kiss, whispering breathlessly against his lips with a smile.

“Yeah, your right, I don’t”

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @ophcelia )

#﹕─┈ roro’s works #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #f1 x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #mclaren

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shaisuki · 2 months

Text

my regrets and joy || bully! satosugu

SERIES MASTERLIST

content warnings noncon, dubcon, angst, talks of abortion, lots of crying, nanami and haibara being the best to reader.

notes finally updated this.

synopsis the reason you decided it's payback time.

weekends after a long dragging week of exams, chasing deadlines and activities is your motivation to continue and push through the week. the promised of resting and a time for yourself where you can snooze through the late afternoon. instead you're waking up on a saturday morning at a bed that doesn't belong to you.

the softness and the scent of sandalwood and bergamot lingered in the bed where you lay. the smell of fresh linen also tinting in sheets. it was dead giveaway that you weren't anywhere near in your dormitory where you shared it with a roommate. posters of different genres of anime you liked are plastered in the walls along with a small bookshelf and your nightstand in your small room. here, it was devoid of any personal touches.

you softly wince when you stretched your body. the familiar aching of muscles and the stinging of bruises and teeth marks decorating your plush body. the smooth texture of the sheets doesn't soothe you from the bruises they made. you slowly moved your body. sitting in a upright position and that seems to worst. the place between your legs is where it hurts the most considering they were insistent on fucking you on both of your holes. you ignored the soreness and went to reach for the bag you brought with you.

rummaging through the contents of it and failing to notice suguru's presence looming at the door of the bedroom. holding a glass of water for the guest they have for the night.

“good morning, princess.” geto said, spooking you off and accidentally gripping the blister pack of your birth control pills. the crunching of the foil covering the gridded pack resonates in the room and it doesn't escape suguru when you put back whatever you're holding in your bag.

he places the glass in the nightstand before joining you in bed. placing himself behind you and he wraps his muscular arms around your round stomach. “continue what you're about to do.” he orders and you slowly reach out for pills you concealed to him earlier. he didn't say anything but you feel his steely gaze following your every move. he didn't even say anything when you revealed what you were holding as you pressed the content of it to pop the pill. there in your palm rests two colored pills. you always take two when something happened like this and since the two won't bother to use protection when fucking you and you won't risk of a pregnancy that you don't want.

there is only what your peripheral vision can do. you don't even make the current expression suguru plastered on his face. tentatively you slowly brought your palm to your mouth and swallowed the pills before grabbing the glass of water and taking a drink from it.

the raven colored haired boy remained silent. humming as he buries his face to your neck and inhaling the natural scent of your body. “geto? can i go back to my place now?” you ask unsure. your heart beating fast and there is a reverberating sound tingling in your skin where his lips are pressed. his hold in your stomach tightens and it started to hurt enough to form bruises. “eager to go back like you have a choice.” he whispers. nibbling the shell of your ear and that snaps something inside of you. “that's why i'm asking for permission.” you snarl. quickly regretting that and suguru raises a brow at you. geto hums.

“someone's a little irritated this morning.” he whispered. his large hand came to cup your jaw, squishing it hard and forced you to look at him. “an attitude this early, careful.” he warns. his voice holding such venom in them that's enough to paralyzed you. “yeah and then what?” you challenge to him. you shouldn't be playing fire but you were so pissed that he still decided to toy with you and you're dying to go back to your own place. away from them and it looks like they're still not contented from tormenting you.

geto stares at you. trying to suppress a smile threatening to curve on his lips from the scowl that is currently plastered on his face. he likes you demure and always so pliant however when you run your mouth like this, challenging him for a fight that you can't win, it always made his cock twitch and fuck, he could get used to this.

it fills you with dread doing something like this. you can't help it sometimes and it felt good being able to stand up for yourself and be brave, if you only were that in the first place when they started to make your life miserable you shouldn't have ended in this situation, in a bed where they forced you to lay and have their way to you.

“oh, what's this?” gojo muses. interrupting the little scene unfolding before him. it was always fun to see geto being worked up. almost breaking his usual cool demeanor over something trivial and putting up with your bratty behavior when you mustered some courage and you look so scrumptious this early morning. wearing one of their shirt from the night before. your soft belly are pressed against the tight fabric. your big thighs are squished together making them look bigger than they already are and your chubby cheeks are crushed by his best friend's hand and that terrified look from your face. it's simply amusing.

“shut up, satoru. this one ought to be taught a lesson. get your ass here if you want to join.” geto snapped at him and he didn't need to be told twice.

“wouldn't miss that, suguru.” gojo chuckles and he's now behind you. licking your now naked round shoulder. your back pressed against his naked body. “we did breed you a lot yesterday and all that fucking, you still have the strength to be cranky this morning. perhaps it wasn't enough.”

then it happened like it always does.

“there's no chance for me to be pregnant, doctor. i was in a two-day coma after overdosing and i was on the pill. isn't people especially for those who are pregnant lose their babies after overdosing?”

the doctor in front of you coughs to clear his throat before speaking up and you pull your sweater closer to you. feeling colder as the minute passes by. it didn't help that you started to hate hospitals and meeting with doctors but just to erase your doubts and put your mind at ease for the sickness you were experiencing the months, you decided a professional would help and you wished you didn't.

“i understand your concerns, miss. being on the pill is a highly recommended protection against pregnancy however contraceptive methods aren't a hundred effective and regarding to your history of overdosing, as much i don't want to say it, it is what most people call as a miracle.”

a miracle.

you want to throw every curse word you know at the doctor in front of you but instead you take a deep breath. collect your thoughts and listen to whatever knowledge he can conjure to help you. suggesting to take a second opinion and order more tests to be thorough but you have heard enough and you don't want to stay any longer at that cold, grey office.

flowers pushed through the earth. decorating the ground with their bright colors and the soft breeze flowing through the little botanical garden gave you a sense of peace and sanity that keeps you at bay. you can't even think of single thought. deeply fixated on the flowers sprouting in the ground and only to be trampled by being stepped on.

you want to be angry but you can't bring yourself to be. the weight of the confirmation hasn't settle down for you to let hell loose. to think that you were finally free and you celebrated too early for it lead you to this. why even you're far away from them still they manage to get their clutches to you?

“—(y/n).... (y/n)?” you broke out in your trance after the call of your name coming from haibara. a concerned smile if offered to you and you let out a small smile. “are you okay?” he asks you worriedly. “yeah.” you lied. haibara doesn't need to know. you bothered him long enough with your burdens. “okay, shall we go home now?” the brunnete beams at you and you followed him in the parking lot.

the ride to the place where you moved out is silent except for the song playing in the radio. haibara hums to the beat of it which made you smile but it falters when you remember what happened at the doctor's office.

there's no denying of it. you were really pregnant and the symptoms were consistent. you choose to be blind like you always does. afraid of what the outcome and the suspicion that you really are pregnant came true but why? of all the times you took those pills and being in the verge of death. it thrived and survived the ordeals your body had gone through. telling you that it wanted to home in your body and it was meant to be but were you going to be bad if you don't want it or was it the world telling how bad you are in your past life and this is your punishment. a life filled with suffering so you can atone for all the since you have committed.

nanami couldn't quite grasp the way how your thoughts run. some days you were you. a regular woman of your age with hobbies and dreams to aspire with a smile that you can get through whatever hardships that is thrown at you. he was filled assurance that you were starting to be yourself after that accident. when you started to smile bit by bit and some days you were distant. a stranger with no direction in life. drowned in a ocean of your problems. sinking in the depths of black, murky water with no intention of surfacing up. forever in the darkness.

he knows you too well and since the night and the day you woke up from what he wished was only a nightmare. he spent the rest of his days knowing you. of what a person you are in your broken shell. in your walls built up high that he patiently climb for you to trust him and it rewarded him you. the real you.

haibara have been babbling for the last minutes and nanami never left his sight at you whereas you find him staring intimidating you didn't even bothered to tell him to stop and there wasn't a smile on your lips while haibara talks. you always find his friend's antics endearing and you always listened to him. laughing at the little details but now, you weren't. your eyes a little dead and your attention is occupied with the gears turning inside your head.

nanami clears his throat trying to get your attention and it work. your lips in a tight line after realizing haibara was talking and your weren't listening and that's what he took the opportunity to ask you a question. “how did your check-up with the doctor go?” and nanami regretted asking you that question when your eyes widen and your lips tremble. blinking furiously to fight the tears and shaking your head off. it was like digging a buried bad memory and he just brought it up for you to face.

“i-i don't want to tell you both about it.” your voice shaky and then a tear drop fall from the corner of your eye. “i burdened you both since the day you helped me and i'm ashamed for all the trouble i have caused.”

nanami was about to say sometimes when haibara interrupted him. “no!” he retaliated before muttering an apology for raising his voice then continued. “don't say that! you're not a burden and it's not like you wanted to be in this situation. you were a victim.” he says and that made you to cry harder.

“the doctor told me i'm pregnant.” you revealed and nanami and haibara's eyes widen. although on nanami's part he knows it. he suspected but never confirmed it since you were fine and it will be you who knows the changes happening in your body. “oh, (y/n)....” haibara wistfully says and then crashes his body to yours to hug you. the kind of hug that a friend will give you. “do you think we'll change just because you are pregnant? sshh. don't say anything and just cry it all out. nanami and i will support every decision you'll make.” haibara looks at nanami and they both exchanged looks. you wouldn't have to go through this alone. you have them.

true to their words nanami and haibara kept their promise to take care of you and supported your decision that you were keeping the pregnancy cause it was there and the child is already growing inside you. as much as possible you avoided doing what a expecting mother did. it was already enough that your growing belly is a proof of your pregnancy but you still took care of it. you didn't bother to take an ultrasound to know the gender of the baby. it's already painful that you're going to be a mother to a child conceived by its father who forced you.

you didn't need a reminder but haibara insisted. he was documenting the whole duration of your pregnancy. a camera he brought is already filled with photos of you with him and nanami. window shopping at the baby's section in malls. nanami massaging your feet while you sat with a bowl of your cravings in your hand. haibara baby proofing the apartment you have. you crying in front of the television. hormones you said and haibara laughing at you. nanami cooking for you with his sleeves rolled up and a apron tied around him. you and your swollen belly in months and the next photo is you having two babies cradled your chest in the hospital bed.

twins. you have twins and in the most rare of cases you conceived two babies with different fathers. it was evident. a crown of hair in their heads. a white hair to the younger twin and a black hair to the older twin.

you didn't accept them right away when you first heard the cries after a excruciating birth you have to go through. cause that cries belongs to children whose fathers laid waste to your being. who destroyed you but in a glimpse of their scrunched up faces crying, a serene kind of calm washes over you. these children of yours are innocent and shall not suffer your wrath and regrets because they were made of ill intentions towards you.

they were healthy. the doctor said. strong and loud cries of babies meant of good health. they cried and cried until they were given to you. little bundle of joys. that's what they are called and you don't want to call them like that. considering you wished for their demise during one of the times of your pregnancy that may be they would change their minds and slip out of you. these are your children now and you would not wish harm for them. they are yours to protect and to love.

“what will be the color of your eyes, kenji?” you coo at the newborn in your arms. his white hair incredibly fluffy and doing the same to the other newborn of yours whose hair color is the same as his father. you wouldn't dare to call nor speak of their names to your children. they don't want to know that they have a father like them. “how about yours, yushin?” you continue to ask them like they can understand you.

of course, it would like the same as theirs. hours from now they will open and show the colors of their eyes that resembled them. not only in the color of the eyes but also the features they have. in the next weeks it will show. the faces you loathed so much but you convinced yourself that it is your children. they may look alike but they will never grow up to be like them. you were raise them to be kind and strong. who will value the feelings of others as much they value theirs.

“mama loves you both.” you whisper and kissing their foreheads. you would show that you loved them for the years to come.

not only they grew up alike, their behaviors started to show similar to them. yushin is a calm child while kenji, his little brother younger than him for a few minutes is a wild child. always demanding your attention and is clingy. cries when you show the littlest of attention to his brother and you would soothe yushin's pouts after giving his little brother the attention. you loved them equally but to yushin's eyes you love his little brother more and that pains you.

at the tender age of three, yushin seems to quite understand how the world works similar to his brother but ignores it as long he have you. sleeping soundly in your arms while his older brother stares at his younger brother. yushin stares right up at you. “sleeping.” he says. pointing to the younger twin in your arms. you nod. “that's right, yushin. kenji is sleeping.” you said to him and he imitates you nodding.

you put kenji in the room and after putting him to his bed. you directed your attention to yushin. patting his head in a affectionate manner. your child melts at the gesture and he slowly descends to sleep and then you put him besides his brother.

you wonder how long you can protect this peace. sooner or later you will have to face them. lately fate is slowly intertwining your life with theirs and you were afraid what will they do if they were to find they have a child with you and you fear it the most. you didn't fear for yourself, you feared for your children.

it was time to strike back. you'll finish what they started and it would be the end of all. you will live your days with your children and see them grow up. it was decided. you're going to fight now in your own ways.

this time they won't know what's coming for them.

taglist: @missakward123 @lupitalove @i00bear @socialanxietyvictim @tourmalxine @labelt-san @ghostlyworld @kashxyou @chiiiiiiiiiiifuuuuuuuu @cute-sucker @skii-high @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jossayuuu @bubblesandsand1-0 @ply4vnce @witchymermaid12 @luna-v-roiya @mariyumemi @sinfullygay @higurumapet @kvk6433gkcigv @s-j320 @bts-skz @imcreepininyourheartbabe @hazzelle-kento @cashcadaver @n1vi @kiruupon @vebbiewuzhere @its-princessmara @ssetsuka @unicornqueen05 @idkwhattfimdoinghere2 @sunnytyun @tomriddles-wh0re @ya-mamaaaaa @wateriswhatiam @red-writes @saltyladyflower @greyclouq @bahurani @lovayle @okayiamkassandra @sealikesushi @sanzuandmikey @spicana @luvsymai @uniquenicefangirl @ushijimaschubbs @lansy-4 @aesonsgirl @eggieshiteru @jellibean2018 @uchihabucketlist @sunaemoby @cupidscourt @divinedolliebun @rottmntrulesall @mmeharuno @sleighter @haesify @desperadaparasapagmamhal @ichikanu @daytej @0honeylemonade @definetlythinkimanalien @thulhu @mastermasterlist1p1

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #plus size reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk angst #jjk #gojo x reader x geto #anime x reader #anime angst

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pleasebegood · 7 months

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thinking about when i controlled my partner’s bladder in person and ….damn.

it started about mid-day i think; i was still at home, so over text. i told him when to start holding good and early so that when i’d get to his place that evening, he’d already be nice and desperate. we went back and forth all day texting, with me telling him to drink more water and reminding him how far away his relief was going to be, him updating me how bad it was getting with every hour. i got to his place maybe around seven that night, he’d been holding for a good four hours by then i think — he has a notoriously small bladder, which i tease him for often, so this was quite a feat already. once i got there, the real torment could start. he was already asking me for relief , while also being desperately horny for it. he was constantly kissing me, touching me, hoping maybe that would sway me to let him go. of course, that wasn’t happening.

about an hour later, i had to pee. i’d been drinking electrolytes for a while, which always go right through me. i told him multiple times that i was starting to feel an urge, though it wasn’t terrible, how good it was going to feel when i got to piss and he didn’t. it was driving him crazy. i enjoyed that for a bit while building up my own need. eventually, i told him to get in the bathtub, leaving on just his underwear. i stripped down and climbed on top of him. his dick was so hard with anticipation. he’d been begging me to pee on him for days. i straddled his lap, grinding on him a little just to tease him. Then right over his dick, i started pissing. i was so turned on, it took some effort to get going, but quickly i pissed all over his lap while he whimpered and clung onto me. i told him he better keep holding—though i was sure feeling my warm piss soaking into his underwear was making it so much worse. and it was. i told him to get up and rinse off. the water from the shower head was even more torture. for a second, his legs buckled and i was sure he was about to lose it. but instead, a huge drop of pre-cum dribbled out instead, sliding from the tip of his hard cock down his leg. i praised him for that; my pussy was throbbing.

i made him dry off and get redressed. i had him wearing gray sweatpants, obviously, so any leaks would be nice and obvious. we laid down in his bed, and i got on top of him again, kissing him hard and putting all my weight on his bladder. he kept squirming and groaning, struggling to even kiss me back while he was this desperate. it was so adorable. i kept this up for a while, and to my surprise, he still hadn’t leaked. at this point, it was far past how long he’d ever held before. we moved to the couch, along the way i forced him to fill up his water bottle so he could keep drinking. just the sound of the water from the rap rushing into the bottle had him pressing his legs together and begging me to let it end. of course i wasn’t going to. i reminded him, “you know i’m not going to let you piss voluntarily. you’re going to hold it until you absolutely can’t anymore.”

we sat back on the couch together, and i alternated climbing over him to press into his bladder with all my body weight, and sitting beside him stroking his dick through his pants. every once in a while, for good measure, i’d press down hard on his bladder with both hands and he’d cry out in pain. by this point, he was nearly beyond words. bordering delirious, he could barely put a sentence together. he was still trying to beg me to let him piss, but the question kept falling short as he could only laugh and grind his teeth. he finished another full water bottle. i was so impressed.

“do you want me to-to fill it up again?” he managed to ask. of course i did.

standing up from the couch almost pushed him over the edge as the gravity shift hit him. he had to stand still with his legs crossed to regain control before we could go back to the kitchen. but again, to my surprise, he made it. i praised him for how good he was being, and that had him even more whimpering and delirious. it was so deliciously pathetic, i was losing my mind. he filled up the bottle again, each painful second of the water flowing made him beg me more and more. when he straightened back up, even that slight shift had him falling apart. this is when he started to lose it.

he stood in the kitchen—and i say “stood” generously. he was constantly moving back and forth, alternating feet and crossing his legs over and over again while he told me he wasn’t going to last much longer. finally, to my absolute pleasure, a leak hit. it was enough to soak a little wet spot through the front of his pants. he begged harder—he couldn’t be still at all, and now that the first leak had come out, i knew there was no way he’d last much longer.

but still, i blocked the path to the bathroom. he begged more, and another spurt burst out. it slid down his leg, and though it was a faint enough stream to not show its path, i could see it darken the cuff of his pants around his ankle. i let him move to the bathroom, and he shuffled carefully along, leaking a bit more with every step.

“we may be in the tub now, but you better keep holding,” i told him as i pushed him against the wall of the bathtub. he groaned, falling back against the wall and barely able to hold himself up. i leaned my body fully into his, pressing on his bladder as i slid my leg between his.

his head fell onto my shoulder; his body was so run down he couldn’t support himself anymore. a bigger spurt jetted out, pouring directly onto my leg. he moaned and kept on begging. finally, right against his ear, i told him he could let go.

the floodgates opened immediately. he started pissing full force. the hot stream ran down both of our legs where i kept my thigh pressed between his. he must’ve pissed for a minute while he clung desperately to me, both arms hugged tight around me. i was the only thing holding him upright at this point; his legs were giving out beneath him, but i had him pinned to the wall firmly enough he couldn’t fall. once all the piss was drained from his body, he couldn’t stop thanking me. he was still completely delirious, but now from relief rather than desperation.

i gave him a minute to come back, just holding him like that while i savored the feeling of his soaked pants on my skin. when he was able to speak sentences again, he told me how orgasmic had felt to let go. he said it felt so good, he didn’t even need to come after that. we rinsed off, and i took him back to bed to cuddle and praise him for what a good boy he’d been for me.

#male desperation #omorashi #true story omo #omocute #personal #i still can’t believe we did this it was unbelievably hot #bladder control #bladder holding

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somerandomdudelmao · 1 year

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Hopping back in the “when did Donnie get sick” train because of your latest update with memory ritual Casey, I think I have a pretty good guess as to what got Donnie.

The very long episode known as episode two, aka “carry the uncles.”

We see them extremely battered, can from the looks of it, both of them have a couple open wounds. While infection can get in though the holes on our faces (nose, eyes, mouth), it can also get in through the bloodstream, where it is usually identified by white blood cells.

Donnie is significantly more battered than Casey, who appears to be severely bleeding though his leg, plastron, side, and forehead. All prime locations to get into the bloodstream unnoticed.

(Another thing. Outsider cells can pose as insider cells, which is usually how stuff like cancer happens. I don’t doubt that when the kraang made that virus they took a few humans to make sure it was extremely lethal and wouldn’t get fucked over by Donnie’s white blood cells, as you said before that the area around Donnie’s grave turned so desolate that even other kraang vines were KILLED by the infection. (Which makes me think it behaves like the fungal virus of the last of us but worse.))

The earliest we see Donnie obviously pull his dramatics is episode six, primarily the first pannel of part two of episode six, kraangified.

This is the very same episode where he perched on Raph by using his spidershell’s arms.

Donnie was most likely feeling the effects even earlier, but because the episodes between 2 and six are more filler and elaboration (and also where people speculate he got it, episode three.) we don’t know.

I should note, people claim he got it in episode three when he ran a kraang over. This is likely not true, as you stated the infection killed kraang vines around Donnie’s grave. Why would you carry it on your body for long periods of time with how lethal it is? Wouldn’t you put it on one of your hounds or zombies?

From episode 6 onward, we see Donnie increasingly get more dramatic and need to rely on his tech more until he, unfortunately, goes poof from this plane of existence.

(One more thing I want to add is that this infection was most likely similar to a fungus or cancer, as it was eating up Donnie from the inside and transforming his cells into other cells, which is most likely how his blood turned pink.)

Anyway, theory time over, thanks again for giving us this wonderful series, can’t wait to see what happens when small donnie realizes why Casey got so upset over big donnie.

Wow, that's one BIG study.......

I'm not going to say anything because you've already said everything. But I will add here one new screenshot from a recent update as confirmation that you're right. Because if you look at the location of his injuries in both pictures....

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #riseofthetmnt #donatello #upd i forgot the tag haha #CAS details

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sofiascripts · 1 month

Text

how izuku gets the girl! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

teacher midoriya x reader

izuku midoriya is determined to mend the growing rift between you, desperate to prove how much you mean to him. with the support of his friends, he embarks on a series of grand gestures, each one more elaborate than the last. from awkwardly coordinated serenades to overly complicated surprise plans, his well-intentioned efforts keep falling short. despite their best attempts to help, his friends’ involvement only adds to the chaos. as midoriya stumbles through each attempt, sinking deeper into a mess of his own making, the question remains: will his efforts be enough to win you back?

✎ wc: 8,409... got a lil carried away guys

⤑ tw: ik eri isnt in hs yet but i didnt want to make any oc’s </3 als did not proofread, might proofread tmr morning tho so ;d also for the ending i sweat there was a reason i put him in there and had him say that but i FORGET FUCK so pretend its just cute and makes sense...characters may be ooc btw...

⤑ guess whos BACK (me) time to update that band one and this is inspired by how you get the girl by taylor swift! and gsonys izuku art on insta ;p

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

you were getting ready for bed, the house calm and quiet after a long day. a sudden, urgent knock on the front door startled you, pulling you from your relaxed state. glancing at the clock, you noted the late hour—unexpected visitors were rare at this time.

slipping on a robe, you shuffled to the door, wondering who it could be. as you opened it, your eyes widened in surprise. standing on your doorstep was midoriya, drenched from head to toe. his dress shirt clung to him, almost transparent from the rain, and water pooled at his feet, creating a small puddle on your porch. leaves and twigs were tangled in his usually neat green curls, and some wet strands were stuck to his forehead. his tie hung crookedly, and his dress pants were plastered to his legs, making him look like he had been caught in a torrential downpour.

each step he took made a squelching sound from his soaked socks, adding to the awkwardness of the moment. his breathing was uneven, each inhale a shaky gasp from his run. normally so composed, he now appeared as a soaking, disheveled mess, which was both surprising and oddly endearing.

you couldn’t help but stare, trying to reconcile this soaked figure with the usually neat and controlled midoriya you knew. he raised a trembling hand, his fingers shaking from the cold, and his knock came with an unsteady rhythm.

“izuku? are you insane?” you asked, bewildered.

midoriya, catching his breath, looked at you with a mix of determination and embarrassment. “it’s been a long six weeks,” he stammered. “i was too afraid to tell you what i wanted.”

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

4 weeks earlier.

midoriya sat in the faculty room, a stack of paperwork spread out in front of him. the late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting long, soft shadows across the room. the air was thick with the usual quiet that filled the space during the end of a school day. across from him, aizawa leaned back in his chair, adjusting his scarf with a mix of impatience and concern.

“you’ve got to be tougher on your students, midoriya,” aizawa said, his voice carrying that familiar edge of seriousness. “i’ve seen you let them off too easily. it’s not helping them grow.”

midoriya glanced up from his paperwork, a frown tugging at his brow. “i don’t think i’m being too easy,” he replied, “i'm just trying to create a supportive environment. they need to learn, but they also need to feel encouraged.”

aizawa sighed, rolling his eyes slightly as he straightened in his chair. “you can be supportive without coddling them, midoriya. there’s a balance you need to find. letting them skate by on half efforts isn’t doing them any favors in the long run.”

midoriya bit his lip, mulling over aizawa’s words. before he could respond, the door to the faculty room suddenly burst open with a loud bang, startling both teachers. a group of students rushed in, their faces flushed with a mix of frustration and urgency. they barely stopped, practically tumbling into the room, completely ignoring the large no students allowed sign outside.

“midoriya-sensei, we need to talk!” one of the students blurted out, breathless, their words tumbling over each other in their haste. midoriya’s eyes widened as he recognized the group—some of his own students, including koda and eri. he glanced at aizawa, feeling a mix of embarrassment and concern as he began to sink into his seat, eyes drifting to the ceiling. he could feel aizawa’s silent stare, a reminder that maybe his softer approach wasn’t as effective as he’d hoped.

feeling the tense air from mr. aizawa, the students silently communicated with each other, deciding who should be the first to speak. “ms. y/l/n has been really tough on us during training,” eri spoke up, her voice tinged with concern. “we were hoping you could... calm her down or something?”

midoriya’s expression shifted, confusion evident. “calm her down? i didn’t even realize she was upset.”

aizawa raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “well, maybe you’re just too used to midoriya’s leniency. y/n is an excellent teacher, but she’s always had high standards. maybe you’re all just not used to it.”

as if on cue, the door to the faculty room creaked open again, and you walked in. your usual warmth seemed to fill the room, and you greeted everyone with your signature cheerfulness. “hello, everyone!” you called out, your voice bright and welcoming.

but the moment your gaze landed on midoriya, your expression shifted. the smile that had lit up your face moments before disappeared, replaced by a look of dismissiveness. “mr. midoriya” you greeted him curtly, your tone clipped and formal. there was no warmth, no friendliness—just a cold acknowledgment of his presence.

midoriya felt his heart drop. you didn’t linger in the room like you normally would, chatting with the other teachers or sharing a laugh. instead, you turned on your heel and walked out just as abruptly as you had entered, leaving the room in a stunned, almost eerie silence.

the students exchanged nervous glances, their eyes wide with surprise. a low murmur spread through the group as they tried to make sense of what they had just witnessed.

“okay, that was definitely weird,” one of the students finally said, breaking the awkward silence that had settled in. “she’s usually so friendly with you, sensei.”

midoriya’s brow furrowed deeply as the pieces slowly began to fall into place in his mind. “yeah, that was strange,” he muttered under his breath, his voice quieter now as he stared at the door you’d just exited through. “she’s been distant lately, hasn’t she?” he continued, still muttering to himself, lost in thought. unconsciously, he reached up to rub the back of his neck, a habit of his when he was anxious. though he wasn’t speaking loudly, it was enough to catch the attention of everyone in the room.

the room grew quieter as the students slowly began to file out, their chatter subdued and filled with concerned whispers. but midoriya didn’t notice. he was too busy muttering quietly to himself, replaying each interaction with you in his mind, trying to piece together what had gone wrong.

aizawa narrowed his eyes as he watched midoriya. even he had to admit that your sudden shift in demeanor was odd. just as he was about to call out to midoriya, the younger hero suddenly stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“i’ve got to talk to her,” midoriya mumbled, more to himself than anyone else, but it was loud enough for aizawa to hear. aizawa’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. it wasn’t often he saw midoriya this shaken, especially over something non-hero related.

without waiting for a response, midoriya strode toward the door, his footsteps quick and determined. aizawa watched him go, releasing a quiet sigh as the door clicked shut behind him. the room was left in a contemplative silence, the weight of midoriya’s resolve lingering in the air.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

later that day, during lunch, midoriya gathered his courage and approached you as you sat alone at a corner table. he offered a hopeful smile, trying to bridge the growing gap between you.

“hey, y/l/n,” he began, his voice warm and sincere. “want to join me for lunch? it’s been a while, and i thought we could catch up.” he kept his tone light, hoping to ease whatever tension had built up between you.

you glanced up briefly, your expression guarded. the usual warmth that lit up your face when you saw him was gone, replaced with something distant. “no, thank you,” you muttered quietly, turning back to your meal, effectively cutting off the conversation. midoriya stood there for a moment, his smile faltering as your rejection hit harder than he’d anticipated.

from a nearby table, a group of students watched the exchange with bated breath. as soon as midoriya walked away, they quickly gathered around him, their concern obvious.

“what did you do?” eri asked, her voice laced with alarm.

midoriya ran a hand through his hair, his frustration and confusion evident. “i don’t know! i really don’t,” he replied, exasperated. “i thought we were on good terms. i didn’t mean to upset her.”

the students exchanged worried glances. “well, you’ve definitely done something,” koda said, crossing his arms. “you need to fix this.”

midoriya sighed, pulling out his phone to message his friends. as he walked away, his thoughts whirled with memories of your interactions over the past few weeks—every clipped response, every avoided glance, every time you’d left a room just as he’d entered. he replayed those moments over and over in his mind, trying to pinpoint when things had started going wrong—how had he not noticed something was off in the first place? when had it gotten this bad?

“was it something i said? or maybe something i didn’t say? did i miss something important?” he mumbled to himself, oblivious to the awkward stares he was receiving from the students nearby.

the students exchanged uneasy glances. they were used to midoriya talking to himself when he was deep in thought, but this time, it felt different—more personal, more troubling.

aizawa, who had been observing from a distance, narrowed his eyes slightly. he could see midoriya spiraling, lost in his thoughts. with a resigned sigh, he cleared his throat, snapping midoriya out of his daze.

“midoriya,” aizawa called out, his tone calm but firm, “whatever’s going on, you need to address it directly. stop overthinking and talk to her. otherwise, it’s just going to get worse.”

midoriya blinked, realizing that he’d been muttering to himself in front of everyone. embarrassment colored his cheeks as he looked around at the concerned faces staring back at him. “you’re right,” he said, his voice more resolute now. “i need to talk to her. i have to find out what’s going on and fix it.”

with a determined nod, midoriya set off to figure out what had gone wrong.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya decided to meet with his friends to discuss the situation, hoping their insights could help him understand what had gone wrong with you and how to fix it. he figured that since they had all spent time together, they might have noticed something he missed. they settled into a cozy corner of a café, their faces reflected a mix of concern and curiosity.

todoroki raised an eyebrow, studying midoriya closely. “you haven’t figured it out yet?”

midoriya shook his head vigorously, frustration evident. “no clue. i didn’t even notice that something was wrong. my students pointed it out.”

kirishima, usually cheerful, took on a serious tone. “this is a big deal. you don’t know what’s upsetting her or how long she’s been feeling this way. could be serious.”

midoriya nodded, determination clear in his features. “i’ll talk to her. i just need to understand what went wrong so i can make it right.”

kaminari, who had been quietly listening, leaned forward. “just talking to her isn’t going to cut it. if you really messed up, you need to go big.”

midoriya frowned slightly. “yeah, but what if the grand gesture is too much?”

“better to go overboard than underboard,” kirishima said firmly. “if she’s really upset, a grand gesture might show her how much you care. it’s about being a man and showing that you’re genuinely sorry.”

todoroki nodded in agreement. “think of something meaningful. show her how much you value her.”

“no half-assed attempts,” bakugou added, his tone serious. “if you’re going to do this, make it count.”

midoriya’s resolve strengthened with each piece of advice. “i’ll come up with something that truly shows how much she means to me. i want to make sure she knows i’m serious about fixing this.”

his friends exchanged approving glances, satisfied with midoriya’s determination. as they continued brainstorming ideas, the café buzzed with the energy of their discussion. midoriya’s mind raced with possibilities, each more elaborate and heartfelt than the last. he knew he had to pull out all the stops to make things right with you, and he was ready to put everything he had into it. the grand gestures was the way to go, and he was determined to make it unforgettable.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

the first idea had come from aoyama. somehow, word had spread through their old class about midoriya’s dilemma, and each of them had ideas on how to help. aoyama, being aoyama, suggested something extravagant.

“a grand piece of art!” aoyama had said with flair. “something beautiful that she can walk through and admire. she’ll be swept off her feet!”

with todoroki’s help, they crafted an elaborate display of ice sculptures—each one representing something meaningful to you. the sculptures were delicate, intricate depictions of your favorite things: a particular book you loved, a scene from a memory they shared, and even a tiny version of your favorite flower.

as midoriya stood beside todoroki, his face glowed with anticipation. “thank you so much for helping with this,” midoriya said, his voice brimming with gratitude. “i really appreciate it.”

todoroki nodded, though he seemed slightly uneasy. “no problem. i’m sure she’ll love it.”

when you arrived, you looked hesitant but curious. midoriya guided you forward with a flourish, eager to see your reaction. but as you came into view, the excitement drained from his face.

instead of a beautiful display, you were met with a scene of puddles and half-melted ice sculptures. the intricate figures that todoroki had so carefully crafted were now just watery blobs.

midoriya stood by your side, looking disheveled and panicked. he glanced around in confusion, noticing that the ice was melting faster than it should have. “but... it’s winter,” he muttered, his brow furrowing.

you stared at the mess, disappointment and frustration washing over you. “what is this?” you asked, your voice tight with irritation.

midoriya, clearly distressed and flustered, stammered, “i thought it would be something special, but—”

he didn’t get to finish. glaring at him, you turned on your heel and stormed off, leaving him standing there, drenched in disappointment. todoroki and their friends, who had been watching from a distance, exchanged helpless glances as midoriya stood amidst the puddles of his failed gesture.

it was then that midoriya and todoroki noticed a group of first-year students practicing their fire quirks. the heat from their flames had warmed the ground, causing the ice sculptures to melt rapidly.

todoroki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “she was not happy.”

midoriya’s shoulders slumped. “i wanted to make her feel special, but all i did was mess things up.”

“don’t give up,” todoroki said, trying to reassure him. “there’s still time. just... maybe something simpler next time.”

but simpler didn’t come easily for midoriya. with each new idea suggested by his friends, he found himself spiraling further into chaos.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya had decided to take a bold step to make things right, following iida’s suggestion. he arranged a surprise staff meeting to publicly apologize to you, hoping that a formal and heartfelt apology would finally bridge the gap. with iida’s help, everything was set: the time, the place, and the carefully crafted speech midoriya had prepared.

however, midoriya overlooked one crucial detail—unbeknownst to him you had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for the same time as the meeting and couldn’t attend. unaware of your absence, midoriya proceeded with the plan.

as the meeting time approached, midoriya arrived early, his nerves jangling with anticipation. he had meticulously rehearsed his speech and was ready to make his apology. iida arrived shortly after to help set everything up and work the slideshow. the rest of the staff arrived, each person taking their seat, eager to hear what midoriya had prepared.

when the time came, midoriya stood at the front of the room, his speech in hand, only to realize that you were missing. a quick check with iida confirmed that you were indeed not present, and midoriya’s heart sank. he had planned to address you directly, but with you absent, he was at a loss for how to proceed.

in a moment of panic, midoriya decided to go ahead with the meeting anyway. clearing his throat, he began, “uh, thank you all for coming. i, um, had prepared a speech for ms. y/ln, but it seems she couldn’t make it today…”

the staff exchanged confused glances, some shuffling in their seats, unsure of what to do. midoriya, now the center of attention, tried to salvage the situation by improvising a general discussion about recent events and updates at the school.

he spoke about new curriculum changes, upcoming events, and even shared some amusing anecdotes to fill the awkward silence. what was intended as a formal apology session transformed into an impromptu staff meeting, with midoriya as the flustered host. iida attempted to assist by passing around random papers with topics, but this only added to the confusion.

as the meeting dragged on, it became evident that midoriya’s heartfelt apology had become an unintended and rather chaotic discussion. the staff, initially puzzled, became engaged in the unexpected meeting, though with a sense of bewilderment.

when the meeting finally wrapped up, midoriya stood at the front of the room, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. his attempt to make things right had resulted in an unplanned staff meeting.

you returned from your appointment later that day, only to hear about the mix-up from your colleagues. they filled you in on the unexpected turn of events. meanwhile, midoriya was already plotting his next grand gesture, determined to find a way to properly convey his apology and make things right with you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

after the previous grand gestures were a flop, midoriya decided to try something simpler yet still meaningful. with the help of momo and uraraka, he picked out the perfect bouquet: a mix of your favorite flowers, complemented by blooms in colors he knew you liked. the vibrant petals were arranged with careful attention to detail, each one chosen with thoughtfulness and care. midoriya’s heart raced as he made his way through the hallway, clutching the bouquet tightly, hoping this gesture would finally break through the wall between you two.

as he approached the corner where you were about to turn, midoriya took a deep breath, holding the bouquet out in front of him. his nerves were on edge as he hoped you’d see the effort he’d put into this simple but heartfelt gesture.

but just as he was about to step into your view, a loud crackle filled the air. one of the first-year students, still struggling with their electricity quirk, had lost control, and sparks began to fly uncontrollably. midoriya’s eyes widened in horror as a stray bolt shot out and zapped right through the bouquet in his hands. the once-vibrant flowers were instantly reduced to nothing but charred stems, the bright colors now a dark, ashy mess.

you turned the corner just as midoriya was standing there, holding what looked like a bundle of burnt sticks. raising an eyebrow, you stopped in your tracks and stared at him. “uh… what’s this supposed to be?” you asked, trying to make sense of the scene in front of you.

midoriya’s face flushed bright red, and he stammered, “i… i had flowers for you, but…” he trailed off, glancing down at the destroyed bouquet. his shoulders slumped in embarrassment, and he shifted awkwardly, feeling the sting of failure.

you sighed, the hurt in your eyes evident. “well, thanks, i guess? never been given stems before.” your voice was laced with a mix of sadness and irritation as you shook your head. with that, you turned to walk away, leaving midoriya standing there with a sinking feeling in his chest. he felt like he’d only made things worse, once again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya decided to try another simple approach to make amends. remembering your favorite coffee shop and the drink you loved, he headed there with a hopeful heart. the bell above the door jingled as he walked in, and the rich, comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped him. he approached the counter, his nerves making his voice slightly shaky.

“hi, i’d like to get an iced latte with hazelnut and caramel, please. it’s for someone special,” he said, trying to keep his tone light and friendly.

the barista nodded and started preparing the drink. midoriya watched with bated breath as the machine whirred and hissed, the caramel and hazelnut syrup swirling into the coffee. he could almost see his hopes and apologies taking shape in the cup.

just as the barista handed him the cup, the machine let out a loud, mechanical groan and then abruptly stopped working. the barista’s face fell as she glanced at the now silent machine.

“wow, you’re really lucky,” she said with a sigh. “the machine’s down, and we won’t be able to make another one of these until our manager gets back to check it out. probably won’t be able to make another one of these for another two hours.”

midoriya’s heart sank slightly. he felt a flicker of relief that he had managed to get the coffee before the machine broke down, but the frustration of his situation made his shoulders droop. he thanked the barista and took the cup with a shaky hand, his excitement tempered by worry. he hoped this gesture would be enough to bridge the gap between you and him.

just as he was about to step out, a kid darted past him, bumping into his side with a jolt. midoriya stumbled, and before he could react, the cup flew from his grasp, the precious coffee spilling in a slow-motion cascade onto the floor. the liquid pooled around his shoes, the ice cubes and caramel syrup mixing into a dark puddle.

his heart sank as he stared at the mess. “oh no,” he muttered, feeling a wave of frustration and embarrassment wash over him. he glanced back at the counter, where the barista was now talking to another customer.

“we can’t make any more of those for now. that lucky guy just got the last one,” the barista said, pointing directly at midoriya.

midoriya’s head snapped to the woman in front of the register, and he saw you. your expression shifting from confusion to surprise and then to dismay. your eyes widened as you took in the sight of the ruined cup and midoriya’s mortified face. you had somehow slipped past him while he was waiting, and now you stood in front of the register.

“oh, great,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration. “this just keeps getting better.”

midoriya, now red-faced and utterly deflated, stood there feeling the weight of his failed attempt to make things right. his mind raced as he wanted to apologize, explain, and make it up to you, but all he could do was stand there, feeling utterly deflated.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

it was the start of the school day, and midoriya was busy preparing his classroom for the students. he was in high spirits, excited to tackle the day’s lessons and he felt good about his plans to work things out with you. however, his optimism was abruptly interrupted when a group of students burst into the room, their faces flushed with a mixture of urgency and panic.

“sensei, we need to talk!” one of them exclaimed, practically breathless from running.

midoriya looked up from his desk, surprised by the sudden intrusion. “oh, don’t worry, guys! i know you’re eager to start and all, but you still have another half hour before homeroom begins.”

“no, this is urgent!” another student insisted, their voice tinged with anxiety. “it’s about ms. ms. y/ln.”

midoriya’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “what about her?”

the students quickly gathered around him, pulling out their phones with frantic gestures. midoriya’s heart sank as he watched the video they played. it showed you in a training session, ruthlessly taking down a dummy with a green wig and a set of freckles. the dummy’s resemblance to midoriya was almost comical, and you were using a variety of improvised weapons—bats, metal rods, and even a few random objects that had no place in a school setting. your movements were executed with a dramatic flair and an intensity that was both impressive and alarming.

midoriya stared at the screen, his eyes widening with disbelief. “you guys came to school early just to show me this?”

“yeah,” one student said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “we’ve noticed that ms. y/ln has been a lot more relaxed with us lately. she’s been back to her old self, but you’re still clearly on her bad side. we thought you should see this to understand why.”

midoriya tried to keep his tone light, despite the unsettling nature of the video. “gee, thanks. this is... uh, definitely something.”

another student nodded, their expression serious. “yeah, sensei. you really need to figure out what you did. we like you a lot, but i wouldn’t want to be that test dummy. she’s clearly still holding onto something.”

midoriya’s face fell into a mix of worry and determination. “i’ll talk to her and figure this out. thanks for letting me know.”

as the students left, midoriya remained at his desk, replaying the video in his mind. the exaggerated way you had taken down the dummy made it clear that you were still very upset with him. he was more determined than ever to find out what had gone wrong and make things right before your frustration led to even more extreme demonstrations–and hes nervous for the day that you decide you need a human target.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya had been feeling increasingly desperate to make things right after his previous attempts ended in disaster. he remembered a conversation he’d had with todoroki after the ice sculpture mishap. todoroki had suggested, “a carefully written note might be the best way to communicate your feelings without risking another embarrassing mishap.”

at the time, midoriya had thought a note would be too simple and struggled with the idea, especially since he wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for. but the test dummy incident had pushed him to his limits, making him realize he couldn’t afford another failure.

determined, midoriya spent hours crafting the perfect message. he poured his heart into every word, making sure you understood how much you meant to him and how genuinely sorry he was for everything that had gone wrong. the note was sincere, filled with his deepest apologies and hopes for understanding.

the library seemed like the ideal place to leave the note—quiet, private, and somewhere you were likely to find it without interference. midoriya waited for the library to clear out, his nerves on edge. when it was finally empty and still, he walked in, his heart pounding.

he spotted your folder resting on a table and took a deep breath. with a mix of nervous excitement and hope, he slipped the note inside, feeling a small sense of victory as he did. as he walked away, he felt a renewed sense of hope, convinced that this time, things might finally go right.

but later that afternoon, as midoriya walked down the hall towards the teachers’ lounge, he overheard two students talking animatedly.

“did you hear?” one student said, their voice filled with excitement. “a love note ended up in mr. aizawa’s folder!”

midoriya froze, his heart racing as he processed the shocking news. “mr. aizawa?!” he thought, his mind whirling with panic. he hadn’t seen you since the incident, and now he was horrified to discover that his apology note had ended up in aizawa’s folder instead of yours. his face went pale as he realized the note was meant to be a sincere apology, not a confession. he had never intended to make his feelings for you so obvious, and now he was mortified to find out it was interpreted as a love confession.

as he continued down the hall, he felt a pang of relief that the note hadn’t ended up in your folder, since it would have been even more awkward for you to see it that way. but that relief was overshadowed by the embarrassment and frustration of his mistake. midoriya’s stomach churned as he realized the mess he had accidentally created. desperate to correct the situation, he quickly rushed into the lounge, his face pale with worry and his thoughts racing.

he began pacing around the room, knowing he had to act fast. he needed to find a way to rectify the situation with aizawa and still make things right with you. his heart pounded as he brainstormed how to salvage his heartfelt gesture before it was too late.

i take it this note was meant for y/ln?” aizawa’s voice cut through the room, startling midoriya.

midoriya jumped, his heart leaping into his throat. he turned to see aizawa standing in the doorway, his usually stern expression replaced by an intense, almost intimidating gaze. midoriya’s face went pale, and he stammered, “yes! i’m really sorry about this, aizawa. i didn’t mean for it to get this messy.”

aizawa’s eyes narrowed slightly, his tone dropping to a low, almost menacing growl. “you know, midoriya, if you’re going to mess up, you should probably make sure it doesn’t involve the entire faculty.”

midoriya swallowed hard, a cold sweat forming on his forehead. he felt a rush of anxiety as he tried to explain himself. “i didn’t want to cause any trouble. i just thought—”

“do you like her?” aizawa interrupted, cutting through midoriya’s nervous babble.

midoriya blinked, taken aback. “well, yes, i do. i mean, i—”

“do you like her in a romantic way?” aizawa pressed, his gaze unyielding.

midoriya’s face flushed bright red. he began to ramble, “uh, yeah, i guess you could say that. i’ve liked her for a long time, and i’ve been trying to show her that, but everything keeps going wrong. i mean, i’ve been messing up left and right, and—”

“how did you get that idea?” midoriya finally blurted out, stumbling over his own words.

aizawa’s eyes softened just a bit. “this seems like a big apology for a coworker,” aizawa said, his tone shifting slightly. “sounds like a confession to me.”

midoriya’s eyes widened, and his face turned beet red. “oh, well, yeah, you could say that. i’ve been scared to tell her how i feel because i didn’t want to make things worse. i keep screwing up and pushing us further apart, and—”

“you’re overcomplicating things,” aizawa said, cutting through midoriya’s anxious rambling. “maybe it’s time to just talk to her directly.”

midoriya nodded, determination settling on his face. he knew he needed to take a straightforward approach to make things right. with a renewed sense of purpose, he prepared himself to finally confront the situation head-on, hoping that this time, his genuine feelings would come through and truly make a difference.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya was rushing out of the school building, determined to go home and prepare for a straightforward conversation with you. his plan was clear: find out what he’d done wrong, ask how he could make things right, and confess his feelings. he was nearly at the exit when kaminari, kirishima, todoroki, and bakugou intercepted him.

“hey, where are you rushing off to?” kaminari called out, blocking midoriya’s path with an eager grin.

midoriya came to a halt, his frustration evident. “i’m heading home to get ready for a talk with y/n. i really don’t have time for this.”

“perfect timing, then!” kaminari said, his grin widening. “we’ve got a plan to help you out.”

“a plan?” midoriya asked, eyeing the guitar kaminari was holding. “what’s this about?”

and that’s how midoriya found himself standing in front of your house, flanked by bakugou, kirishima, kaminari, and todoroki, all ready to serenade you like a group of love-struck lunatics. the whole situation felt surreal to him. he turned to kaminari, wearing the same skeptical and apprehensive expression he had earlier when they had intercepted him.

“are you sure this is going to work?” midoriya asked, trying to sound confident but clearly nervous.

kaminari, holding his guitar with a grin, shrugged nonchalantly. “works on jirou all the time. chicks love when you sing to them. it’s like some kind of chemical thing, I think.”

“okay, okay,” midoriya said, taking a deep breath. “let’s just get this over with.”

kaminari strummed the opening chords of the song, and midoriya took his place in front of the group, awkwardly adjusting his stance. he started singing, his voice wavering at first but gradually gaining confidence as he got into the rhythm. the lyrics were heartfelt, a mixture of longing and apology, expressing how much he missed you and how desperately he wanted to make things right.

as midoriya sang, his initial discomfort slowly faded, replaced by a genuine emotion that he hoped would reach you. kirishima and todoroki added their backup vocals, harmonizing with the main melody, while bakugou stood off to the side with his arms crossed, trying to look disinterested but clearly invested in the performance.

just as the song hit its emotional peak, the front door of the house swung open. an elderly man, clearly not you, stormed out onto the porch, his face red with irritation. “what in the world do you think you’re doing, making all this noise at this hour?!”

midoriya froze, his heart sinking as he realized their mistake. the old man’s eyes narrowed, and with a powerful gust of wind from his quirk, he sent them stumbling back. the sudden force knocked them off balance, and midoriya barely managed to stay upright.

“run!” kaminari yelled, already sprinting down the street. the others scrambled to follow, scattering in every direction as the irate old man pursued them with surprising vigor and speed for someone his age.

“it’s only seven o’clock at night!” kaminari shouted, his voice tinged with panic as he was flung into the air. midoriya and the rest of the group could only watch in horror as their friend was tossed around like a rag doll by the furious old man.

the old man’s face was a deep shade of red with rage. “it’s late enough! get off my lawn!” he bellowed, his voice amplified by the force of his quirk. gusts of wind howled around them, whipping up leaves and debris.

three houses down, you were grading papers when the commotion outside drew your attention. the sounds of shouting and the rush of wind made you step onto your porch, where you were met with a scene of utter chaos: a group of boys being chased by your 80-year-old neighbor, who was shaking his cane with fierce determination and unleashing his wind quirk with surprising strength.

through the flurry of wind and movement, you squinted and recognized the familiar green-haired figure. as realization dawned, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all.

midoriya, flailing mid-flight against the gusts of wind, finally spotted you. panic and embarrassment flashed across his face as he was propelled toward your direction. when his eyes met yours, his expression softened into a sheepish smile.

seeing him so disheveled and helpless only made you laugh harder. you hesitated for a moment, then gave him a small, wavering wave. your smile blended amusement with sympathy, recognizing that this wild spectacle was all his doing.

as midoriya was swept past, he saw you retreating back into your home, closing the door behind you. despite the chaos, he managed to hold onto that sheepish grin. your smile, amid the disaster of the serenade, gave him a flicker of hope.

midoriya felt himself being yanked out of the wind’s path and looked up to see bakugou standing over him with a smirk. “looks like you finally got her attention, nerd,” bakugou said, his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and satisfaction.

midoriya, still disoriented from the chaos, brushed himself off and looked around at the scattered group. kirishima and todoroki were catching their breath, while kaminari was sitting on the curb, looking dazed and slightly battered. the gusts of wind had finally ceased, but the ruckus had left its mark.

midoriya’s thoughts raced as he tried to piece together what had just happened. “how did we get the house wrong?” he muttered, he looked up at the house they had just been harassing, his eyes finally taking in the number on the mailbox: 109. realization hit him hard. “we’re at 109, not 106!” he exclaimed, his face falling in disbelief.

the group turned in unison to kaminari, their collective frustration apparent. “you got the address wrong, didn’t you?” bakugou growled, glaring at him.

kaminari’s eyes widened in panic. “it was just a mistake! I didn’t—”

midoriya’s realization was quickly overshadowed by another gust of wind. the old man, still fuming and clutching his cane, had spotted the group again and was gearing up for another attack.

“run!” kirishima shouted, causing midoriya and the others to jump into motion. they scrambled for safety, but the old man’s wind quirk picked up speed, howling as it blasted toward them.

amid the chaos, kaminari, who was still dazed from the earlier commotion, stumbled and tripped over his own feet. “guys, wait up!” he yelled, but his plea was drowned out by the roaring wind.

without a second thought, the rest of the group sprinted away, leaving kaminari behind. the old man’s quirk grabbed kaminari and sent him flying into the air. midoriya, glancing back, saw kaminari flailing helplessly as he was tossed around like a ragdoll.

“sorry, man!” kirishima shouted over his shoulder, guilt evident in his voice as he continued to run.

kaminari’s screams echoed through the night as the old man, now thoroughly enraged, spun him around with impressive strength. “try and sing now pretty boy!” the old man roared, hurling kaminari high into the air before catching him again and sending him spinning.

midoriya and the others continued to flee, their pace slowing as they glanced back nervously. the old man’s furious wind gusts faded into the distance, and with each passing moment, kaminari’s screams grew quieter.

they ran behind the cover of trees and bushes, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. midoriya’s heart pounded in his chest, not just from the exertion but from the fear for their friend. kirishima, breathing heavily, kept turning his head, his face a mix of worry and regret.

“is he still…?” kirishima began, but his voice trailed off as the group strained to listen. kaminari’s cries, once sharp and panicked, had dwindled to distant echoes.

“i don’t hear him anymore,” todoroki said, his voice low and tense.

“he should be alright,” bakugou said, his tone brimming with frustration. “he can take care of himself.”

midoriya swallowed hard, unable to shake the image of kaminari being tossed around. “we need to go back,” he said, his voice determined but weary.

“no way,” bakugou countered. “we need to stay out of sight. we can’t help him if we get caught too.”

they continued to move away, their steps slow and cautious as they kept glancing back toward the fading sound of kaminari’s distress. the screams eventually faded completely, leaving only the haunting memory of their friend’s ordeal.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

the four boys made their way to todoroki's apartment, the closest and most convenient refuge after their chaotic run-in with the old man. as they settled in, todoroki offered drinks and snacks while they waited for kaminari to arrive. they sent a steady stream of text messages to their missing friend, updating him on their location and asking him to join them as soon as possible.

as midoriya was deep in thought, trying to piece together the troubling realization, the front door to todoroki’s apartment burst open. kaminari staggered in, drenched from head to toe. his clothes clung to him, and he dripped puddles onto the floor. the room fell silent as the others turned to see their soggy friend, a mix of relief and confusion on their faces.

“dude, you’re soaked!” kirishima exclaimed, rushing to grab a towel for kaminari.

kaminari, still catching his breath and shivering from the cold, looked around at the concerned faces. “you guys won’t believe it. there’s a huge storm outside. i got caught in it while the old man was still throwing me around. the wind was so strong it messed withhis quirk. managed to escape when he got distracted by the storm.”

as kaminari finally managed to get himself mostly dry, he glared at his friends, still visibly shaken. “i can’t believe you guys left me behind out there!” he exclaimed, frustration and disbelief clear in his voice.

kirishima tossed a towel to kaminari, shooting him an apologetic look. “we didn’t exactly have much of a choice. the old man was going to blow us all away!”

todoroki nodded in agreement. “yeah, and you kind of tripped over your own feet, making it hard for us to help.”

bakugou crossed his arms, smirking. “it’s not like we planned for you to get caught. it’s your fault for messing up the address.”

kaminari’s eyes widened. “are you seriously blaming me for this? you guys should have double-checked!”

despite the lively discussion, midoriya’s attention drifted. sitting cross-legged on the floor and leaning back against the wall, he stared at the flickering embers of the fire. the warmth from the fire contrasted sharply with the turmoil in his mind. lost in thought, he replayed the events of the night over and over. his heart sank as he remembered a crucial detail from weeks ago—a fleeting moment he had brushed off at the time but now seemed significant. it was something you had said or done that had seemed minor then, but now it loomed large in his memory.

his eyes widened as the realization struck him with the force of a freight train. his heart dropped, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. the truth of that moment made everything about their disastrous serenade make sense, and the weight of his mistake felt heavier than ever.

it was a few weeks ago, right before fall break. you and midoriya had been sitting at your dining table, grading papers together. the room was filled with the soft sounds of pens scratching against paper, and outside, the leaves were a brilliant mix of oranges and golds. he remembered how content you seemed, how you’d smiled at him, saying, “you know, izuku… this is kind of nice.”

he’d looked up, confused but curious. “what is?”

“just… this.” you’d waved your hand at the table, the papers, and the two of you sitting together. “it’s nice. we should do it more often.”

he’d smiled back, completely missing the undertone of your words. “yeah, i think so too! it’s a lot easier to get through all this work when we’re doing it together. makes it less boring.”

he could see it now, the small shift in your expression as you nodded, pushing on despite his obliviousness. “exactly. it’s… comfortable, being here with you. like, i wouldn’t mind doing this… more often.”

he’d laughed, still clueless. “definitely! actually, i was just thinking how much easier this would be if we had uraraka and iida helping out too. we’d be done in no time!”

the way your smile had faltered, how your eyes had dimmed slightly as you tried one last time. “well, i’m just glad it’s you here with me. it wouldn’t be the same with anyone else.”

and he’d laughed again, unknowingly brushing off what had been a confession of sorts. “haha, thanks! i guess we do make a pretty good team. we’re like the ultimate grading duo!”

he saw it so clearly now—the way you’d sighed, looking deflated, your words trailing off as you muttered, “yeah… a good team.”

and he had just continued grading, thinking everything was fine, not realizing that he’d hurt you, that you’d taken his response as a gentle rejection.

it hit him like a punch to the gut. how could he have been so blind? the way you’d smiled at him that night, the vulnerability in your voice—he’d completely missed it. and in doing so, he’d hurt the person he cared about most.

pacing around todoroki’s apartment, midoriya was a whirlwind of anxiety. his thoughts were racing, and his pacing left an impression on the floor. "i... i messed up," midoriya said softly, almost to himself. but the others noticed. the chatter in the room stopped as they all turned to look at him.

bakugou was the first to speak. "what the hell are you babbling about now, deku?"

midoriya ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly. "there was this night... we were at her house, grading papers. she said something that i—I completely missed the point. i thought we were just talking about work, but now... i realize she was trying to tell me something."

kirishima raised an eyebrow. "what did she say?"

midoriya exhaled shakily. "she said... 'i’m just glad it’s you here with me. it wouldn’t be the same with anyone else.' and then... i just said, 'yeah, we’re a good team!' and moved on like it was nothing."

there was a beat of silence.

kaminari let out a low whistle. "dude..."

todoroki nodded slowly, piecing it together. "you didn’t realize she was talking about more than just grading, did you?"

midoriya shook his head, his face turning pale. "no... i didn’t. i thought she was just talking about us working together. i didn’t even think... i didn’t realize she meant that i was special to her. that being with me was different for her."

bakugou scoffed. "you’re such a damn idiot, even this half and half loser was able to put it together. she practically laid it out for you."

midoriya’s face flushed with embarrassment. "i know... i know, i was an idiot. but at the time, i just didn’t see it. i didn’t think... i didn’t think someone like her would... feel that way about me."

kirishima’s grin softened into something more understanding. "man, that’s rough. but hey, it’s not too late. you can still do something about it."

midoriya looked up, determination sparking in his eyes. "you’re right. i have to fix this. can’t just leave things like this."

“thats the spirit buddy! while you were being all weird in the corner we managed to track down a few people who are willing to do a flash m-”

midoriya was barley registering what kaminari was. his mind was fixated on you and what he needed to do. without a word, he bolted for the door, leaving the others staring in confusion.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

midoriya stood at your door, a soaked mess of a romantic cliché. the rain had pounded him relentlessly, leaving his dress shirt clinging to his skin, almost see-through from the downpour. water dripped steadily from him, forming a small, glistening puddle on your porch. leaves and twigs were tangled in his green curls, sticking out like a wild, untamed halo, while some damp strands clung to his forehead. his tie hung askew, probably snagged during his frantic sprint, and his dress pants were plastered to his legs, heavy with rain.

each step he took produced a miserable squish from his soaked socks, echoing the awkwardness of the situation. his breathing was uneven, each inhale a shaky gasp from the run to your house. normally so composed, midoriya now stood there, a sopping wet contradiction to his usually neat appearance.

he raised a trembling hand to knock, his fingers fumbling with cold and nerves. when you answered the door, your eyes widened in shock. the sight of midoriya was like something out of a slapstick romantic comedy—his usually neat hair was a wild mess, and his clothes clung to him in a way that was more tragic than suave.

“izuku? are you insane?” you asked, bewildered.

midoriya, still panting from his run, looked at you with a mix of determination and embarrassment. “it’s been a long six months,” he stammered, struggling to catch his breath. “i was too afraid to tell you what i wanted.”

you raised an eyebrow, taking a step back to survey the drenched mess in front of you. “what are you talking about? you look like you swam here.”

midoriya took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “that night we were grading papers, you said something that i didn’t understand at the time. you said, ‘i’m just glad it’s you here with me. it wouldn’t be the same with anyone else.’”

you blinked, still processing his soaked appearance. “yeah, i did. no need to—”

“i thought you meant you were just glad to have me as a coworker,” midoriya interrupted, his voice trembling with vulnerability. “but now i realize you were trying to tell me something much more important. i was so focused on keeping you as a friend that i didn’t realize i missed my chance to be something more.”

your eyes widened, and you took a step back, your mind racing. “wait, so… you like me?”

“yes, i really do,” midoriya said, his voice trembling with cold and nervousness. “i’m sorry it took me so long to figure this out. i want you in my life, no matter what. i know i’ve messed things up, and i want to make it right. you mean so much to me, and i’d wait as long as it takes to prove that. i like you, a lot.”

you stared at him with a mix of frustration and relief. “oh my god, i thought you hated me! you tried to give me flowers, then there were the puddles, and the coffee—”

midoriya’s eyes widened in realization. “the flowers…the puddles—those were all me trying to show you how i felt!”

you groaned in disbelief, “and you didnt understand my way?”

midoriya’s face turned a deeper shade of red. “i’m sorry. i thought—”

you cut him off, frustration clear in your voice. “i thought you didn’t care! after i tried to confess, i needed some space, and you acted like nothing happened. then all these weird things kept happening, and it felt like you were mocking my feelings for you.”

midoriya’s shoulders slumped, his eyes filled with regret. “i was trying to show you how much you mean to me, but every time, something went wrong. i thought if i kept trying, it would get better, but it just made things worse.”

he stepped closer, the rain drenching his already soaked clothes. “i’m here to make things right. i want you to know how much you mean to me. i’m not just sorry for misunderstanding—i’m sorry for not realizing how special you are until now.”

he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he took yours. his gaze was full of hope, his green eyes reflecting the soft glow of the porch light. “please, give me a chance to show you how much i care. i want to be more than just a good team. i want to be someone you can count on, someone who truly understands you.”

midoriya’s hand, cold and trembling, felt reassuringly warm against yours. the droplets cascading down his face highlighted the emotion in his expression, his eyes locked on yours. every sound around you—the distant rumble of thunder, the soft patter of rain, and the steady beat of your heart—seemed to magnify the intimacy of the moment.

it felt as if the world had come to a standstill, holding its breath for this delicate, significant moment between the two of you. as you took a shaky breath, the weight of the past weeks seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile sense of anticipation.

with a small, tearful smile, you finally found your voice. “okay.” the word was barely a whisper, yet it carried the weight of your emotions. it was a simple affirmation, but it felt profound in the context of your shared experience.

midoriya’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy as he stepped even closer, the warmth of his presence nearly overwhelming despite the cold rain soaking through his clothes. droplets of water dripped onto your porch as he gently squeezed your hand, his thumb tenderly tracing over your knuckles. his eyes were filled with nothing but pure adoration, and before you knew it, he pulled you gently into his embrace, his soaked clothes pressing against you. the cold of the rain was undeniable, and you shivered as the chill seeped into your warmth.

“izuku, you’re freezing,” you managed between giggles, squirming slightly as the coldness of his wet clothes made you shudder.

he chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear despite the rain-soaked predicament. “i know, but i just couldn’t stay away.”

midoriya pulled back slightly, his arms still around you but loosening just enough to gaze into your eyes. his smile was wide, his expression a perfect blend of admiration and pure joy. he took a moment to fully appreciate how beautiful you looked, even as you laughed and tried to escape his embrace. the rain highlighted the sparkle in your eyes and the joy in your smile, making the moment feel even more special. he was overwhelmed with how lucky he felt to be here with you, sharing this perfectly imperfect moment.

slowly, midoriya cupped your face in his hands, his fingers brushing gently against your cheeks. the warmth of his touch contrasted sharply with the chill of the rain, and you could feel the delicate tremor in his fingers, a sign of how much this moment meant to him. his gaze was tender, his eyes holding a mix of admiration and vulnerability that made your heart flutter.

you could feel his breath mingling with yours, each exhale warm and soothing against the cool, damp air. his closeness was both comforting and electrifying, the sensation of his presence enveloping you completely. midoriya’s gaze lingered on your lips for a moment before he leaned in slowly, giving you ample time to pull away if you wished. when his lips finally met yours, the kiss was gentle and tender, a stark contrast to the cold rain that drummed against the porch.

the kiss deepened gradually, each movement slow and deliberate, as if he were savoring every second. the warmth of his lips, paired with the lingering chill of the rain, created a stunning contrast that sent shivers down your spine. as his kiss conveyed both an apology and a promise, you felt a wave of warmth flood through you, banishing the chill of the downpour. the connection between you was profound, a blending of emotions that left you breathless.

midoriya’s hands, still cradling your face, were careful and reverent. the world outside—the rain, the noise, the chaos—seemed to dissolve, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared warmth and connection. his lips lingered against yours, his touch gentle as if he were afraid to break the spell of this perfect moment.

when he finally pulled away, his eyes were still locked on yours, and his smile was filled with pure, unrestrained happiness. he opened his mouth, seemingly ready to say something heartfelt, but before he could speak, loud cheers erupted from the bushes nearby.

“so manly!” “let’s go, young midoriya!”

the sudden outburst startled both of you. midoriya turned, his expression shifting from soft adoration to surprise as kaminari, kirishima, todoroki, and bakugou emerged from their hiding spots. kaminari was grinning widely, fist-pumping the air, while kirishima gave midoriya an exaggerated thumbs-up. todoroki offered a subtle nod of approval, and bakugou, arms crossed, smirked and muttered, “finally got her izuku.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

an: reach out?? the embers?? guys did i eat or what like tf anyways guys i have so many ideas so much i wanna write but why does it take so LONG FUCK but anyways enjoy this while i try to shit out some band au stuff (i love my band au plotline so much but i cant do any of the in between stuff its like a partial writers block)

#mha x reader #mha #bnha fic #bnha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya x reader #mha izuku #izuku x reader #mha midoriya #izuku mydoria #izuku midoryia x you #izuku midoriya fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #teacher midoriya

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idkfitememate · 9 months

Text

A Boar? In This Economy? Pt. 3

⋘ Previous Part » ♡︎

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Boar Reader x Mondstadt (Genshin World)

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 3.1k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff to angst to fluff again, crack

You thought that the interaction you had with the boys would be enough to satiate you for a long while.

Well you were wrong.

Because now all you wanted to do was go into Mondstadt and see everyone.

There was one thing holding you back, however…

…And that was wondering where the story was.

Now, you unironically had been getting “vIsIoNs Of ThE fUtUrE”, or rather the updates and current story as it continued in your world.

Your world…

Shaking off the slight homesickness, continued on your mission. Finding out where ever which ever sibling was in the story.

What you weren’t expecting however was to watch a Paimon being fished out by a hungry looking Aether.

Oh Gods.

Oh Fuck.

THE STORY HASN’T EVEN STARTED????

This is new, considering that in nearly every fic about the SAGAU the story was up to the current update or it had stopped all together.

… Did you mention that you were a vivid reader of fanfiction? And player of Genshin? Because you were.

Tiptoeing backwards, you suddenly hear the shrill voice of a certain fairy… as in fairly large pain in your ass-

“Oh! If you’re really hungry you should go hunt that boar right there! I’ve never seen a painted one though…”

OH SHIT OH FUCK-

You ran away before the blonde could even turn around, hearing Paimon’s voice call out for you to stand still. No you weren’t gonna stand still!

You continued to run, cursing yourself out in your head for being noticed.

You were happy where you were! With your family! You already interacted with Mondstadt in the form of Razor and Bennet, that was enough!

You rushed deeper and deeper into the forest, stopping when you noticed your family ahead. Trotting before them, you laid down in front of the fire.

Ever since finding you, they refused to eat boar meat, switching to fox and bird so you wouldn’t have to sit and watch them cook something that looked like you, which was nice.

Right now they were roasting a bird over the fire, spices filling your nose as you curled up around it. Another change was the increase of Mita and Lawa and samachurls at the camp. Two of each element for each type of churl to protect the camp, and you.

This was also true for other mobs. Slimes and Whopperflowers, anything else in the immediate area. The number was upped.

And with your heightened heart rate?

The number only went up.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍦🍫୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

By now, Aether and the small girl he had come to find was named Paimon had already cleared out a Hilichurl camp with the Outrider of Mondstadt, Amber.

Wiping sweat off her forehead, she turned to the duo.

“For some reason, the number of Hilichurl camps has been growing rapidly in the past year, even more so than before. Your help is immensely appreciated!” She said, sighing.

Aether only stood by before speaking up.

“Have you seen a painted boar around here?” He questioned.

“Oh! Yeah! The Boar of the Wilds! Yeah, quite the trouble maker they are. They’re a weird boar too, sticking around Hilichurls and the such. But they help the kids so we don’t see them as too much of a threat. Why?” Amber smiled as she turned around to face the Traveler, who was glaring at a now heavily sweating Paimon.

“No reason…” He said through grit teeth, making Paimon shake and mutter something about ‘not knowing’ or something of the sort.

“Well anyway, let’s get you into the city Traveler!”

And with that, the trio continued on their walk, unaware of the slime watching them.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍪🍮🧁୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

So you really are at the start of the story.

You paced around the fire as your family watched sitting cross legged.

You had two options:

1. Travel with Aether and see all 7 nations.

2. Stay where you are and live with your family till the story ends.

Your first instinct was, of course, to stay with your family. You had built a life here, no matter how crude.

Your family cared for you and you them. These specific mobs were going to live on in your heart and you’d be damned if you’d leave them. Because if you did, the odds of travelers and others of that nature might find them and…

Well you didn’t want to think of what’d happen.

You shook you head and snorted, pacing faster. You ignored the worried cries of those around you as you continued to think.

Now that the story started, that meant that shit was about the hit the fan.

You had noticed a lack of Divalin, and more windstorms. With how happy things had been, you tired to ignore it.

Ignore the signs.

But a small voice in the background of your head had told you.

It told you that the story had started. That you’d have to do something.

But if you did you’d mess up the whole story, and then you wouldn’t be able to predict what happens next and you’d loose all sense of control you felt you’d had.

The abyss.

You glanced back at your family.

One thing you made sure of was that there were no Abyss Mages around. Without them, your family was more than docile around humans, not truly seeing a reason to hurt them without cause.

When they would try to reverse the curse… if you left your family…

…

… You rammed into a tree.

Small screams erupted from them as the tree tilted over and fell, the top splintered from the bottom where you rammed it. Letting out a loud squeal, you rammed into another.

Why was this so difficult??

On the one hand, with your knowledge you could probably make so many lives better and easier!

But on the other, after you help one, it could cause a ripple effect and make you loose your grasp on what was happening, leaving you unable to help.

And with cautious you were, you didn’t even know if you’d come back if you’d die!

Would you be willing to die for these people?

Another tree fell.

You’d die easier than a human, what happens if you die.

What happens if you’re forced to leave your family?!

You rammed another tree.

Your breathing quickened and your eyes started to water.

The wind began to pick up.

When your hooves made contact with the ground, the earth rumbled.

You could no longer hear the shouts and cries of those around you.

What would happen when you died?

Would your blood be gold?

More trees fell.

Your eyes were blurred with tears.

You were barreling through the Forrest at this point, mind of every type crying out to you.

Crying out for you to stop.

You didn’t want to die.

But others would die for you.

You could stop so much.

… You could’ve stopped so much.

When the thought hit that while you’ve been messing around for just over a year, people were getting hurt, you ran faster, and hit harder.

The wind whipped harder. When you looked up you noticed Stormterror and Aether fighting above the city.

Had you been so caught up in your own stupid emotions that you failed to notice the city closest to you was under attack?!

How fucking STUPID could you be?!?!

You rammed harshly into a large tree, being stopped by both the winds of Teyvat and the sheer thickness of the tree.

Shaking your head you looked up.

… The Symbol of Mondstadt’s Hero.

You had ran all the way to Windrise.

Hiccups forced their way out of snout and tears poured out of your eyes.

You sobbed.

Everything was blurry and your ears were ringing. You were tired of thinking.

You barely registered the Pyro Samachurl laying a churl blanket around your back while warming it.

More and more mobs surrounded your sobbing form and slowly cuddled around you. Warming you.

And eventually, you fell asleep under the large and warm pile of Hilichurls, Mitachurls, Lawachurls, Samachurls, Slimes, Whopperflowers, other boars, foxes, and birds.

You were safe. You were loved.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍧🍮୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

“You have to check it out! I understand that the main issue is The Stormterror, but Miss. Jean! It’s a large pile of monsters and animals! This could pose a great threat!”

The distressed traveler continued to rant at the Acting Grand Master, causing her to sigh.

Everything lately had been so stressful, even with the help of the Blonde Traveler. Currently they were with Lisa at The Temple of the Lion.

She genuinely, truly didn’t want to ask them to help with this.

So she decided to check it out on her own.

Standing from her desk, she walked around to shake the hand of the now silent traveler.

“Don’t worry. I’ll check it out and do what I can to help in the situation.”

She was met with many thanks from them as they shook her hand up and down with vigor.

Lord Barbatos she was tired…

Making sure she was all ready to go and had her trusty Aquila Favonia, and headed out.

Nodding at everyone she passed, she quickly made her way out of the city and towards the place of interest.

The place said to be the historical ground of her hero, Vanessa’s ascension to Celestia.

The Symbol of Mondstadt’s Hero, Windrise.

Running her way over, it was very apparent that the Traveler was not kidding. She could see the large multicolored blob from where she was, though it wasn’t moving.

The thing had just recently appeared, but that didn’t change the fact that this was still dangerous.

Creeping towards the pile, she was met with the cacophonous sound of snores from monster and animal alike.

And she was now confused.

Never in Jean’s life had she ever seen a fox curled around a Sawachurl. Or a bird sleeping peacefully on a Lawachurl. Or boars cuddled up with Mita and Hilichurls.

Wait.

Boars cuddled up with… oh.

Sighing she readied her sword to attack and find where that boar was under all this, before a Frostarm Lawachurl shook itself awake. The sudden movement startled her and she was met with the blank carved eyes of its mask boring into hers.

The two stared for a bit, before it huffed and laid back down, cuddling into a Blazing Axe Mitachurl who was… well… cuddling it’s still-red-but-put-out axe.

Jean was bewildered at the interaction, standing from her attack position. Looking more, she took a risk.

She stepped forward.

She was met with whirrling of a Ruin Guard starting up.

If what she was thinking was true, then why was anything of Ruin here?! The boar hadn’t been known to wander into any of the shrines or otherwise where they may have been found!

She was met with a Guard turning to her. Again she readied for an attack.

Only to be met with small ‘beeps’ and ‘boops’.

It, like the Lawachurl only glanced at her, before lying back down.

Okay, what was going on?!

Now she just decided to walk through the large crowd, though through is a strong word. On was more like it.

And as she got closer to the large Oak tree, she noticed the dip right at its trunk. The pile only got larger, and when she got to the trunk, there was a large divet. Jumping down, she was met with the culprit she thought she’d meet.

The boar.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍬🍧🍦୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Being shaken awake was not what you wanted right now.

Groaning and huffing, you tired to push the hand off, only causing it or come back and push harder.

You continued to shove it off until it finally stopped. You sighed in relief and snuggled back into the warmth around you, falling back asleep.

At least, until you heard the scared cries of a Sawachurl.

Cracking your eyes open you immediately notice an angered(??) Jean standing over you and a Pyro Sawachurl. And she was directing that anger(???) towards the small churl.

Oh. Hell. No.

Jumping up you lightly but into her. Though your ‘light but’ sent her crashing into the large wall of bodies behind her.

Which started to wake up the large pile.

Animals and monsters grunted and groaned as Jean stood in shock at the ripple effect of your actions.

You were just watching a fox climb up the tree in interest.

The whole pile had woken up, standing confused at you and the only human. Jean was noticeable tense.

Shaking off the blanket, you snorted, grunted and oinked into the crowd. And after a moment, they began to disperse, much to Jean’s amazement.

“How did you… anyway. You can’t do… this anymore, alright? I don’t understand how you got these monsters and otherwise to not attack humans but I’ll have you know that you gave passing travelers quite the scare. You understand, right?” Jean asked.

You stood and gently nodded, still tired and slightly overwhelmed by past thoughts.

She sighed and made a decision.

Walking behind you - making you look at her with interest - she wrapped her hands around your midsection and picked you up, causing you to struggle.

Your distressed squeals filled the air as she began to explain. “I just - ngh - need to keep an eye on - hey watch it! - keep an eye on you - ow!” Her words were interrupted by your squirming and moving in her arms, but at her words you slowed.

… Right. The Stormterror situation.

She looked down with concern when she noticed you no longer struggling - she was expecting a fight the whole way - and was startled by the far off look in your eye.

Sucking it up, she began to carry you back to The Knights of Favonius Headquarters.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍩🍬🍨୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Seeing you in the office was not what Kaeya was expecting.

Having never met you personally but hearing stories around the city, seeing you in Jeans office sat beside her desk was a surreal experience.

The only reason he was here and not waiting for the Traveler was because he had been told the Jean had left, and with Lisa also not there, he was in charge for the moment.

Was he just a bit pissy that he was the only asked after they realized Lisa was gone?

… No comment.

But by the time he got back it didn’t matter because Jean and… you were already there.

He barely got a word in anyway because the door swung open with the Librarian and Traveler in tow.

“We’re back!~” Called Lisa. Aether stood behind her, red in the face. Kaeya wasn’t shocked with how… sultry she could be.

She was definitely an acquired taste, that was for sure.

But the moment of peace was broken by your loud squeals and oinks of distress, and the blue-coded man noticed you were looking at their new blonde friend.

And when you got up to start running, he made a split second decision.

He dove for you.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍯🍡🍫୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

A sharp crack was heard when your hoof made contact with Kaeya’s face.

You stood startled for a moment, before making eye contact with Aether again and panicking all over again.

You hadn’t made your decision!

You thought you’d at least get until he finished the Main Story Quest to make your decision!

Your panicking and running form was confined to the room as Jean commanded the doors be shut and locked from the outside.

This choice was made clear after you made a b-line for the door and rammed into it. You stumbled a bit for a second before running around again.

Using any kind of Vision or otherwise was immediately out of the picture due to the confined space and bunches of important documents and books in the vicinity.

Jean also tried to make a grab out you, which worked for a second… until you infused your body with Electro, shocking the shit out of her.

Now they had no clue what to do.

Well wait… nevermind.

Trying to coral you was the best bet.

And that’s what they did. But that just made you more wild.

Didn’t they ever hear the saying “A cornered animal will fight twice as hard.”?

Because that’s exactly what happened.

You rammed into walls and windows, no longer squealing but screaming.

It sounded sickeningly human to them.

You rammed past them and into the desk, causing a sharp letter opener to fall onto you.

Slicing your skin and making you bleed.

Gold.

It shined as you collapsed to the floor. Shaking and crying. Tired and hungry.

Those who were awake - you knocked out Kaeya - stood in shock as you continued to cry.

Lisa silently traced the paint on your fur. It’s swirling patters that, now that she saw them and was analyzing them anyway, looked like the patterns that lined the statues of their Creator.

Jean finally thought about your odd relationship with the creatures of Teyvat. How they listened to you and became docile in your presence. How they payed attention to only you and never harmed humans when around you. You calmed them. Like the Creator.

Paimon - who watched the ordeal from a corner in fear - put together how the fauna blocked Aether from reaching you and how the wind seemed to boost you away from the duo. How Teyvat seemed to help you. Much like it would the creator.

Jean and Lisa turned to each other. They just thought you had a weird mutation or something of the sort! Maybe even a vision! Would be the first time an animal got given a vision but that’s what they chalked it up to!

But this… they thought of who they thought was the Creator who was sitting on their throne right now, enjoying the finer things in life.

They were… lying?

The person they had been worshipping for.. years now.. was FUCKING LYING?!?!

Jean dropped to her knees and Lisa shook.

A whispered murmur left Paimon’s lips which startled Aether.

“The Creator…”

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍩🍯୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Waking up in the med bay of The Knights of Favonius Headquarters was not what you were expecting.

A bandage was wrapped around your midsection and a guard was stationed at your door.

The most shocking thing however, was that every Vision Holder in Mondstadt - including the Traveler - was in your room.

Even Albedo and Eula.

Shaking and coughing alerted them to your now awake status. Those who were seated now stood.

You noted the bandage on Kaeya’s chin and felt bad.

Though that quickly turned to confusion when everyone - again, including Aether - bowed.

Then that confusion turned to fear as they spoke in unison.

“Our humblest greetings, O’ great Creator.”

…Shit.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : And that is Pt. 3! The reason I’m gonna leave it like this is because I like open to interpretation stories, plus requests are still very open! So endings are entirely up to how you, my readers, want it to be! I have a hyperactive imagination, and love stories like this, and I want to see what you guys could come up with because I love you guys’s ideas! Thank you all who have joined me on this journey of Boar!Creator!

♡ ♡ ᕬ ᕬ ♡ ♡

+ ♡ （⌯'-'⌯) ♡ +

┏━♡━ U U━♡━┓

♡ I love you guys! ♡

┗━♡━━━━♡━┛

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ Tag list: @genshin-impacts-me , @iacunaanonymoused, @resident-cryptid , @reemthetheme , @wichiwachi , @atsukawolfcat , @starlightdreaming, @time-shardz , @novarowan , @justyoureader , @undecidingfate , @neverending-animelove , @nishayuro o, @angstylittleb1tch , @soluzere , @mmeatt, @shirasakai, @kapitankarate, @leafanonsforest , @silverstarred , @lucienbarkbark

#genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Boar!Creator

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