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harmonicakai · 1 month

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Powerslide

Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader

Summary: Usually, your best friend’s player roommate is the most annoying person on earth, but after your date ditches you, he’s more than willing to step in as a replacement.

Tropes: enemies to whatever this is, frat boy!yeonjun, bff!taehyun, college AU, soft dom!reader, sub!yeonjun, kinda exhibitionism & dacryphilia

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: smut (mdni!!!!!!!!!!), mentions of alcohol

A/N: My friend really wanted a Yeonjun fic to happen and I suddenly felt like writing this. I am NOT a smut writer, so this might not be very good, but I tried <3

“Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too I lose my mind when it comes to you I take time with the ones I choose And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you” —Boyfriend, Ariana Grande & Social House

The guy you’ve been seeing has pissed you off for the last time. As soon as you got a text asking to reschedule tonight’s date, while you were already standing outside of the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at, it was over.

You reply for him to go fuck himself and trudge back to campus to complain to your best friend, Taehyun.

Despite the two of you becoming almost inseparable after being paired up in organic chemistry together, it’s clear to both of you that it’s just a platonic thing. If you had to pick which one of his friends you were most into, it’d be his roommate, Yeonjun.

Except he pisses you off more than the guys you actually go out with. You can’t recall a time where you’ve ever talked to him sober or he hasn’t shamelessly flirted with you in front of whoever else was involved in the conversation.

You know he sees girls as pawns and not people, and so you don’t even bother thinking about the two of you together. Until he answers the door instead of Taehyun, fresh from the shower, water still dripping from his hair onto the towel barely clinging to his waist.

“Where’s Taehyun?” you ask. Your line of sight naturally falls on his bare chest, but you do your best to look up at his face. He’s smirking at you.

“He’s got a soccer game,” Yeonjun says, stepping aside to let you into the common room. “Should be over soon if you want to wait for him.”

You walk past him, plopping yourself onto their small couch. Yeonjun’s eyes don’t leave you, taking in your full date night outfit and the way it hugs you perfectly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. You can swear you can hear him about to burst out into laughter as he watches you go through the five stages of grief. “You had a date tonight, didn’t you?”

“How do you know that?” you sit up, finally locking eyes with him. By now, he’s got a full fledged grin on his face.

“Taehyun told me,” he shrugs, his towel becoming looser with every movement. “Listen, I was just being nice and asking. If you want to ice me out like you always do, go ahead.”

His honesty makes your face heat up in anger. Yes, you’ve never been very nice to him, but for good reason. He’s just another fuckboy in a frat, and you’ve dealt with enough of those in your first years of college to know better.

“I can be nice,” you scoff, turning to look out the window. It’s so dark that all you can see are the streetlamps in the distance.

“Then by all means, show me,” he says, his voice shifting from playful to something more serious. “I’d really like to see how nice you can be.”

There’s something about the way he’s talking to you that feels good. Wrong, but good.

“Fine,” you relent, looking back to see he’s gotten much closer to you than before. “But you need to go get dressed.”

“Am I distracting?” he smiles, tilting his head at you. You roll your eyes.

“More like nauseating,” you lie. He is distracting, just like usual. The only thing that really keeps you from giving him a chance is how annoying he is, but for some reason, you’re happy to entertain his advances tonight.

“I’ll be right back,” he says before walking into his bedroom. When he comes back, he’s got a red hoodie and ripped jeans thrown on, his hair still damp and messy. “Better?”

“Much better,” you approve. He nods before sitting down next to you on the couch, close enough so that his hand can graze your knee without it being obvious that he’s totally doing it on purpose. “Do you really want to hear about my love life?”

“Hmm, what else would we talk about?” he hums, his gaze locked on your glossy red lips. You can feel your face heat up, prompting you to scoot further away from him.

“We could talk about yours instead. Although, from what Taehyun tells me, I’m not sure you’re even capable of love.”

“Ouch. I could be, you know? For the right girl.”

“And who’s the right girl?”

“You.” You want to laugh at how ridiculous this all is, but Yeonjun’s breath is hot against your neck, and he leans in to place a single kiss against your sensitive skin. “I can treat you better than any of those other guys, Y/N. Let me show you.”

Fuck it, you think to yourself. He’s here and he’s hot and he’s desperate for you. You turn to face Yeonjun, crashing your lips onto his. He tastes sweet, no doubt from the bubblegum he’s always smacking whenever you’re around.

When he moans into your kiss and grips his hand in your hair, you feel a shockwave in your core. You climb into his lap, his hard-on nestling in between your legs. He groans at the pressure.

“God, you’re so hot,” he gasps in between kisses. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Trust me, I know,” you laugh. “You make it so obvious.”

“I can’t help myself around you, Y/N.” He snakes a hand underneath your skirt, his fingers feeling how he’s already got you soaked through your panties. It takes everything in him not to finish right then and there. “Can I touch you?”

“Not now,” you say, your hand gripping his wrist and pinning it against the couch. Tonight, you’re in charge. “Maybe if you’re good for me, we can do this again.”

“Please,” he sighs as you grind your hips into him. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

You never pegged Yeonjun as someone who begs in the bedroom, but you aren’t complaining. You pull away from him, moving off of his lap to beside him, your hand palming his erection through his jeans.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he says, his eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched. You bring your free hand up to his chin, moving his head to face you.

“Open your eyes,” you tell him. “I want you to look at me.”

“I can’t,” he stammers. “I’ll cum if I do.”

“You aren’t allowed to cum until I say so,” you whisper, sucking at the sensitive spot on his neck. His breathing grows heavier by the second. “Yeonjun. Look at me or I will never let you touch me again.”

His eyes shoot open and he’s not sure how much more he can take. Sure, your body is to die for, but it’s always been your face that he likes the best. Seeing you with messy hair and smudged lipstick, all because of him, is an image he won’t be able to get out of his head for months.

“You sound so pretty for me, baby,” you tell him, moving your hand faster. He could really get used to you calling him that.

By now, he can’t control his moans and tears start to run down his face. All he can do is whine your name over and over in the hopes that you’ll finally give him permission to finish.

As if it weren’t agonizing enough, the front door’s handle starts to jiggle. “Hey, Jun?” Taehyun’s voice calls from outside. “Can you let me in, man? I forgot my key.”

Yeonjun’s eyes go wide at the sound of his roommate. You reach up to cover his mouth. “Be quiet, Junie. You don’t want Taehyun to hear you, do you?”

He shakes his head as you continue palming him through his pants, one of your fingers slipping into his mouth. He moans around it.

Taehyun starts banging on the door. “Dude, are you asleep? Wake up! I need to shower and get to bed.”

You laugh at the nervous look on Yeonjun’s face, cupping his cheek with your free hand and placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Cum for me, baby. It’s okay.”

Your words send him over the edge and he’s bucking his hips into your hand just seconds later. He does his best to keep quiet, although not even your kiss is enough to dampen the string of profanities that leave his lips.

When he’s done, he stares at you with sleepy eyes and the most satisfied grin on his face. Both of you look down at the wet spot on his crotch. He’s never going to be able to wear these pants again.

“Go change,” you say, patting his cheek and getting up from the couch. You smooth your hair down and fix your skirt into place. “I’ll get the door.”

Yeonjun knows that every time he looks at you now, he’ll be thinking of coming undone under your touch. He quickly scrambles out of the room before you can let Taehyun in.

“It’s about fucking time, man,” Taehyun scoffs, his eyes locked on his phone. When he looks up, he’s shocked to be greeted by you instead of his roommate. “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” you say, smiling at the confused look on his face. “I wanted to tell you about my date.”

“Oh, yeah, that was tonight. Sorry, I picked up a game at the rec center.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, following him into his bedroom and shutting the door behind you. “Yeonjun kept me company.”

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @niningtori @csbenthusiast @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9

Literally only tagging the people from my taglist that I KNOW are over 18!!!

#tomorrow x together #txt #txt fic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt angst #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun angst #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun #yeonjun txt #txt yeonjun #txt smut #yeonjun smut

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hyuckswoman · 2 months

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mark and you arguing pt1

pt2

genre: angst (doesn’t have good ending but i can make a pt2)

summary: you don’t like how touchy one of your boyfriend’s friend is, when you try to tell him, he doesn’t listen

pairing: mark x y/n

“no mark you don’t understand and that’s fine, i never asked you to understand either way” you say putting your things down and closing your front door behind you

earlier that night, you and mark were on a double date with his childhood friend and her situationship? you thought it was her boyfriend but seeing the dynamic up close you understood how wrong you were

the date was going okay at first. since her situationship was so entertaining, it completed shifted your focus away from the fact that you had barely taked to your boyfriend ever since stepping foot inside of the restaurant, not only that but you had also failed to see how her hand was on mark’s forearm and didn’t look like it was going to move in any second.

you’re not normally the jealous type but seeing how there’s been a few instances where she had stepped over the boundaries you put with your bf and when you told him about it he just shrugged claiming that “she’s an old friend, she’s bound to be…comfortable” you were apprehensive of the evening.

and you were right to be! the whole evening was basically her flirting and eye fucking mark, cutting you off when you were speaking, barely paying any attention to her date i mean hell even YOU talked more to him than she did.

the more the evening progressed the more you dread coming home, yea it meant she wouldn’t be here anymore but it also meant you having to be vocal about your feelings and a possible argument with mark because of course his friend could never be in the wrong

“why are you being like this? each time we hang out with her you’re always mean and tense about it, i don’t get why you have a vendetta against her” you boyfriend says taking off his coat following you into the living room

“it’s not like i don’t have a reason to have a vendetta against her mark, she was flirting with you all evening! and i don’t even understand why you’re picking a fight with me, i bit my tongue on purpose and didn’t tell you shit and wasn’t planning to just to avoid this so i’m having trouble understanding why we’re even having an argument right now” you say sitting on the sofa hoping he’ll let it go

but of course he doesn’t

“oh so now i’m so scary and intimidating that you can’t communicate? and we’re having an argument because tonight, just like every night we’ve ever spend with her you were in a pissy mood. do you know how embarrassing it is to have to apologize for your behavior each time” mark says

“no one asked you to apologize, i kinda think it’s crazy how you’ve never even taken the time to maybe wonder why i dislike her so much mark” you answer anger rising

“i know why you’re like this, it’s because you’re jealous” your boyfriend answers

“i’m sorry? yea you’re gonna have to elaborate on this one” you say

“i don’t know maybe it’s because her and i get along or the fact that we were a thing for a short while maybe that makes you insecure or something” you boyfriend says ever so casually

“what the fuck?? she doesn’t make me insecure i’m just tired of having to explain to you why it bothers me to see one of your friends eye fucking you while you let it happen. i can’t even have a man be in the same vicinity as me before you start to lose your shit mark. Like i really don’t care that you and her were a thing because you’re with me now so unless it’s an issue i need to worry about I don’t see why I’d be jealous? But if you’re gonna be mad at me for being in a ‘pissy’ mood i never want to hear you complain about any men apparently flirting with me ” you say getting up, if you see his face you might start to hit it at this point

“I still don’t understand why you’re being so bitchy, if her and i were still dating, she would’ve never done this to me” mark says instantly regretting his words

“So it is something i need to worry about then.. you know what? go date her or something i don’t care mark, maybe she’ll appreciate you acting like a dick” you say sighing. this argument honestly tired you, repeating the same things over and over again tired you but what could be done?

you were starting to head upstairs to brush your teeth and head to bed when mark gripped your arm preventing you from leaving

“let go mark” you ask tiredly

“i’m sorry” he says apologizing

“okay, now let go” you ask and he shakes his head no

“please i’m tired i want to sleep let me go” you say as you forcefully remove your arm from his grip, if he wasn’t going to let you go, you’ll leave

“we don’t go to sleep mad at each other” mark says still blocking your way

“maybe sometimes we do, plus i’m not even mad at you now please move i want to brush my teeth and you’re blocking the path” you say

“i’m sorry” mark says

“i heard you the first time” you answer giving up on brushing your teeth settling to find a place to sit in your shared house

“talk to me, please” your boyfriend pleads

“i have been talking to you mark! ever since the first hang out i told you how she would make backhanded comments about me, then told you how it made me uncomfortable how touchy she was with you, then told you i didn’t want to hang out with her anymore so you could go see her alone and i also told you how her eye fucking you and making me feel like i’m bothering you guys annoyed me. mark you just never listen, and since you don’t listen i sit back, bite my tongue and try my best to act nice but it’s not because she’s your friend that i’m going to let myself get walked over” you say as mark finally lets you in your bedroom where you just lay down to sleep

“you’re right i’m sorry” mark says hugging your figure thankful that you still communicated despite his actions

“no you’re not, you say this every time the proceed to do it all over again, anyway good night mark” you say turning so your back faces him just wanting to be done with the conversation because you were starting to feel bad for acting this way when you have every right to be upset. Mark on the other hand is biting his lip realizing that he seriously messed up and needs to make it right somehow.

because he’d 100% rather never talk to that one friend than have you feel the way you’re feeling right now, at the end of the day, nobody compared to you and he now realized how little he’s been showing it to you

#nct dream #nct imagines #mark lee #nct #mark x y/n #mark x you #mark x reader #mark angst #nct angst #nct x you #nct drabbles #nct x reader #mark lee drabbles

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 4 months

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A TRAGEDY THAT'S BUILT ON DESTINY!

I WOULD CHANGE MOST EVERY SINGLE THING. I WOULD LET YOU KISS ME, KILL ME!

synopsis// multiple different universes, but one thing remains the same: geto loves you in each and every one of them.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 5.8k

contents// different universes, angst, satisfying angst?, hurt/no comfort but also hurt/comfort at the same time, ooc geto?, character death tehe

notes// inspired by everything everywhere all at once and the song kiss me kill me by mest :3 i wrote this SOOOO long ago but u have no idea how much i adore this oneshot. like i think it might be my fav oneshot ive ever written. it is everything to me!! and i did not do the idea justice but u get the point!!

December 24th

You assume the fight is over because neither you nor Shoko have gotten any more wounded victims. The two of you glance at each other briefly but don’t bother saying anything. What could be said about a full-blown borderline war schemed by your high school best friend and lover? Nothing could possibly be said, so nothing is. The two of you stand there waiting for anything to happen, whether that’s getting called back to Jujutsu High or being brought another victim, and eventually something does happen, and Shoko gets a call. You can’t read her expression for the whole 20 seconds she’s on the phone before she passes it to you. You furrow your eyebrows in question.

“It’s Gojo,” she says blankly before attempting to hand you the phone again.

You hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“You should get down here,” he says blankly over the phone.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah, just—you know those back alleys by the school?”

“Uh huh?”

“Meet me there.”

“Gojo, you’re kinda scaring me-“

“Y/N, just come; you’ll thank me—I hope.”

You frown and begrudgingly agree, “Okay, fine, yeah, whatever, I'm on my way.”

“Make it quick, alright? I'm serious,” he adds quickly before hanging up.

As you give Shoko her phone back, you roll your eyes at the fact that he didn't even give you a chance to say okay before hanging up.

“What was that about?” she wonders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

You sigh. “No idea, but he wants me to go meet up with him for some reason.”

Shoko hums curiously. “You should get going then; must be urgent.”

You nod, “Yeah.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

It doesn't take you long to get to the school given how fast you were walking since Gojo told you to hurry it up, the tense anticipation aiding in your speed. It does, however, take you a few moments to find Gojo, but once you do, you find that he's not looking at you, but he’s speaking, and it's not to you either; it's to something—or rather someone—he's blocking with his body.

“Gojo?” you ask once you finally reach him.

Gojo turns to face you, a sorrowful smile on his face, before stepping out of the way to reveal who he was speaking to and the whole reason why he called you here in the first place.

When you see Getou on the ground, your heart sinks into your stomach, and your blood runs cold. You look back at Gojo, who merely shrugs.

“You should say your goodbyes; I already did,” Gojo whispers before leaving you and Getou alone.

Getou lets out a hushed laugh. “That’s a little melodramatic of him, don’t you think?”

The hammering of your heart roaring in your ears makes it difficult to hear what he says. You stand there frozen in what you can only describe as horror as you stare down at Getou, who's missing an arm and is only growing more pale by the second from blood loss.

“Do you plan on ignoring me?” he asks softly, as though he’d understand if that really was your plan.

You blink a few times and shake your head, your tears blurring your vision. “I dont-“

Getou hums appreciatively and smiles up at you, which makes you completely break down, a sob racking through your body so violently that the only thing you can do is collapse to your knees. Getou winces as he tries to sit up straighter, as if he’s going to catch you or crawl over to you. You sniffle, your sobbing uncontrollable, as you crawl to him, and once there, you let your head fall upon his blood-stained chest. Getou immediately places his only remaining hand on the back of your head, as if holding it to his chest, and gently pats your head.

“Are you an idiot?” you snap.

“Might be.”

You sob even harder into his chest. “Why would you do this?”

Your question makes his heart race. “I wanted something better for Jujutsu society.”

You shake your head at him disapprovingly. “Why’d you have to go about it this way?”

“I don’t know Y/N," he sighs. "Does it make a difference?”

You scoff, raising your head to glare at him. “Of course it does, you idiot! You left! and had a hit placed on you! Why couldn’t you have just stayed?” You sob, letting your head fall back onto his chest. “Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as you wanted this? Why couldn’t... Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as I wanted you?”

“Y/N,” he coos regretfully, as if he doesn’t know what to say, which he doesn’t. He did want you, and he’d even go as far as saying he wanted a better jujutsu society for you so you wouldn’t have to live your days slaving away for the non-sorcerers. “Y/N, look at me.”

You shake your head and screw your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. You don’t want to see your first and only love withering away right in front of you.

“Y/N, please look at me.”

“I-I can't."

“Y/N, open your eyes.”

The demandingness dripping from his voice has your head shooting up to look at him and your eyes opening wide, but as you open them, you’re not met with an actively dying Getou; you're met with a sunny and flower-filled meadow? You move to wipe your tears, but your face is dry. You blink a few times, trying to take in your new surroundings, given that a moment ago you were just in a dark alley and now you're sitting on a blanket in a field under a glowing sun.

“Y/N?” Someone speaks from beside you.

Your attention is drawn to the person. “Getou?”

He smiles at you.

“Getou, where are we?” you ask, now starting to slightly panic.

He looks at you in confusion. “We’re on our date?”

Your chest heaves up and down, and you're more confused than ever. “Huh? But- We-“

“We what?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“We were just behind Jujutsu High; you were missing your arm, and-"

Getou scoots in closer to you and cradles your face in his hands. The feeling of a warm, full-of-life Getou touching you brings tears to your eyes all over again.

“Woah, woah, love, calm down. What are you talking about? Jujutsu High? Me missing an arm?”

“You don’t remember?” You croak out, distraught, and slightly convinced that you’re going crazy.

“Remember what, love?” he asks softly.

You stare at him in disbelief. “The fight—you wanted a better jujutsu society, and you tried? You lost your arm! You were dying; I saw you! I was there with you! You were covered in blood and-“

Getou gently wipes your tears away. “Love, that didn’t happen. I’m here, yeah? and I have both my arms, and there was no fight for Jujutsu society? Whatever that means..."

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

“It was probably just a bad dream, Y/N.” He smiles at you reassuringly.

“You don’t know about jujutsu society?”

“Am I supposed to?”

You stare at him in awe. What’s happening? How could he not know about jujutsu society when it was the very thing he was fighting for? But then again, how could he not be missing an arm? And how could the two of you not be in a dark alleyway right now? How could any of this be happening? Maybe he’s right; maybe it really was a bad dream. A very vivid, detailed, lucid, and lifelike bad dream.

“I guess not,” you respond with a frown.

Getou wipes away your last few tears and smiles at you. “You’re okay; I’m okay. We’re okay. It was just a bad dream, love.”

“Yeah,” you say haltingly, "yeah, I guess it was..."

“Are you okay now?”

You nod as you take one of his hands off your face and into your own. “Yeah, I think so... Um, where are we, Getou?”

“On our weekly date?” He answers curiously as he removes his other hand from your face.

You look around at your surroundings curiously. “In the middle of a forest?”

“This is your favorite place, Y/N,” he says, quizically.

As you take another glance around, you hum, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I can see why; it’s beautiful here.”

He raises his free hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N, are you okay? How come you don't remember?”

You look into his eyes, and something doesn't feel right—as if you're not meant to be here—but you digress and shrug anyway. “I don't know...”

He frowns briefly before leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips, and you practically melt, having not felt his lips on yours for far too long.

“That's alright. We can still make the most of the rest of our day, right?”

You nod, and he smiles at your response, letting go of your face and hand to open his arms to you, inviting you into his embrace. You return the smile before laying yourself in his arms, trying to ignore the rising feeling that something is wrong, but you can't because the minute your head touches his chest, you're thrown into a moment, a memory, a dream? where you're back in the alley with your head on a bleeding-out Getou, and it's just for a split second, a flash in time, but it's enough to make you go stiff and your breath hitch.

Getou rubs his hand down your back soothingly. “Hey, what's wrong?”

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the green scenery in front of you rather than whatever you keep seeing. “Nothing, I'm fine. It's fine.”

Getou places his head on top of yours. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

He hums disapprovingly but doesn't press the issue any further; instead, he just runs his hand up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you down, which works as you begin to relax into his embrace and regain control of your breathing.

“What do we usually do here?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs. “Usually just talk about our days, our future plans, and stuff like that.”

You hum. “Is it nice?”

“Very nice; I like spending our days together.”

“I do too,” you correct yourself, “or I'm sure I did too.”

Getou doesn't say anything; instead, he lays himself down and, since he's holding you, takes you with him. You sigh contentedly and let your eyes flutter close, the sun and his hold keeping you warm. Suddenly, even with your eyes closed, you can tell it's getting brighter outside, and you groan. You’re about to ask what's up with the sun when a shooting pain in your head causes you to wince. Your heartbeat rings in your ears, and you can feel your hands grow clammy.

You feel unstable, as if you're no longer on the ground being held, as if you're floating through time and space, and the uncertainty forces your eyes open, but you're not met with anything—no, that's not right, you're met with everything, glimpses of time that you can barely make out. One moment you see Getou at an alter, and then you see you and Getou nodding to each other in determination, and the next glimpse is of you, Getou, Gojo, and Shoko laughing about something before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you hiss in pain, and all too suddenly, you're back on stable ground, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone.

You still hesitate to open your eyes, unsure of what you'll see, but when you can just barely make out that you're not where you were before, your eyes shoot open. You're now standing in the doorway of what appears to be the room of two teen girls, and Getou is sitting at a vanity staring at you; his hair and make-up are done, and he's frowning. Despite your confusion about where you are, you can't help but burst out into a fit of laughter.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh haha, yeah, keep laughing.”

You slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling, “Our daughters thought I would make a very good model, apparently.”

You go to laugh again, but it hits you, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Sorry, daughters?”

He returns the look. “Yes? Our kids?”

You look away, muttering to yourself, “We have kids...”

You didn't mean for him to hear it, but he does anyway and instantly stands up and makes his way toward you. He grabs your shoulders, drawing your attention to him, and when you look at him, he's staring back at you in concern.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You want to take him seriously, but truthfully, you can't when he’s wearing bright pink lipstick and bright pink eyeshadow. He does look cute, though. You try to bite back a smile.

“I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that.”

Getou sighs. “I know I look amazing. Can you try to ignore my beauty for like five seconds and tell me why you’re acting like you don't remember our kids?”

You frown. What are you supposed to tell him? That you're apparently having nightmares upon nightmares about different lives with him? And now you're not sure what's real and what's not? You can't say that, so instead you shrug and merely mutter, “You do look amazing like that, though.”

His head drops to the side at the same moment that his smile fades. “Y/N.”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Some really weird shit is going on, Getou,” you breathe out heavily.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and leading you to one of your apparent kids' beds, where he sits you down.

“What’s going on?”

“I don't know, and you wouldn't know either so,” you explain vaguely in frustration.

He gives your hand a squeeze. “Maybe I would?”

You shake your head. “I don’t wanna waste time on that; I don't know how long I have here.”

“What?” he asks blankly. “What do you mean you ‘don't know how long you have here’?”

“Getou,” you whine, not wanting to think or talk about it because you wouldn't even know where to start; all you want is to learn about this new nightmare and what it holds.

He relents. “Okay, I won't ask.”

You smile at him and let a moment of silence pass before asking, “What are they like?”

“Huh?”

“Our kids—daughters.”

Getou hums. “They’re great; we raised them well.”

“They are especially great at making you a model, huh?” you snicker.

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever, you're just jealous they never make you model.”

You shrug. “What are their names?”

“Well, we were gonna keep the names they had when we adopted them, but they ended up not having any names at all, so we settled on Nanako and Mimiko.”

You stare at him in awe. “Did you pick the names out?”

“We both did,” he recalls fondly and vividly, as if it were just yesterday that the two of you were picking out names.

“And we are...?”

He kisses your cheek before answering, “Married—we’re married.”

You hum and raise your left hand, your gaze fixed on your ring finger. “I don't see a ring?”

He hums curiously. “You were wearing it this morning? Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

You nod. “Yeah.. Maybe..”

Getou doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say. What could he? His partner of multiple years suddenly has some form of amnesia and can't remember that they have kids, let alone that they’re married to him. You turn to face Getou. He looks like Getou—like the Getou you know, who apparently was merely a nightmare. Besides all the makeup and stuff, he looks like Getou. He says he’s Getou, but something just feels off.

“Are you real?”

He nods. “Very real.”

You look around the room, taking in the messy vanities, the messy beds, and the drawers stuffed with clothes. “Are our kids real?”

“Extremely real.”

You study his face for any hint of uncertainty, and when you find none, you ask, “Am I real?”

He narrows his eyes at you and hums curiously. letting go of your hand only to bring both hands up to your face and start smooshing your face together, pushing and pulling at the flesh on your cheeks.

“Getou,” you mumble.

He hums approvingly and nods, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Yep, you’re real.”

You smile at his idiotic antics but appreciate them nonetheless. And although you can touch him and feel him, and he is real, as are you and your kids, it still doesn't seem real. And then, all too suddenly, your head starts throbbing again.

“Fuck no, not again,“ you panic.

“Y/N? whats wrong-“

You can't hear what he’s saying anymore; it's like you've gone underwater and he's speaking to you from the surface. Another shooting pain in your head has your eyes screwing shut, and you know you're fucked when all you can hear is your heartbeat ringing in your ears and feel your hands grow clammy all over again. You’re back to feeling unstable, drifting between time and space once more, and just like last time, the uncertainty of the feeling forces your eyes open, and you're faced with everything again—more glimpses in time that you can barely make out.

One moment you think you see yourself back at the beginning on Getou’s cold chest, and then you see yourself and Getou covered in blood, and you're not sure if it's yours or someone else's, and the next glimpse you see is of Getou on your cold chest, like your roles had been reversed, before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you wince in pain, and finally you're back on solid ground again, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone. This time you don't hesitate to open your eyes, and you find yourself in a cemetery.

You look around curiously, trying to assess your surroundings while simultaneously trying to recover from whatever just happened. But you're starting to realize something now. All of this is real. You laying on Getou’s chest was real; having a picnic with a perfectly fine Getou in a world where curses apparently don't exist was real; having kids and marrying Getou was real; and all of those little bits of time in between each new life were real. All of it was real—is real; all of it happened—is happening; it just didn't happen to you specifically. Not this version of you, at least. You’ve realized that you’re experiencing different universes and living alternate lives of your own. You didn’t think alternate universes existed, but it's not too hard to accept when the world you live in—the world you belong to—is riddled with curses and sorcerers. You are not above believing in alternate dimensions.

Finally over your sudden epiphany, you're able to realize that you weren't immediately met with Getou like you had been the past two times you got transported into another dimension. As you put the pieces together, a grave feeling washes over you—no Getou, and you’re in a cemetery. You swallow harshly.

No, no, no.

You start running around the cemetery, inspecting each and every headstone, and praying to the universe(s) that you aren't about to find one that reads his name.

No, no, no.

You keep running, the cemetery seemingly interminable, until you run up behind someone who looks suspiciously a lot like Getou, and when you hear him murmur under his breath, you sigh heavily in relief that it is him, but why is he here? You tilt your head and try to look around him to read the gravestone.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim, stunned.

Getou spins around faster than you can even blink, and he almost chokes on his spit. “Y/N?” His chest heaves up and down as he shifts his gaze between you and the gravestone. “But-but-how-you’re-“

“Dead apparently,” you say, finishing his sentence as you stare at the gravestone that reads, "HERE LIES L/N Y/N."

He stares at you, completely bewildered, and you can see him trembling. “How—how are you here?”

Will something bad happen if you tell him this isn't your universe and there are actually multiple universes out there? Who knows, but you’re about to find out.

“I'm not, well, I'm not supposed to be.”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I'm just hallucinating; you’re not real.”

His reply breaks your heart. “I am real.”

“You’re not.”

You step forward, taking his hand in yours. “I am.”

He finally opens his eyes back up, and he stares at you through tears, completely amazed that you're here, that you're actually touching him, and that you're actually alive and real.

“I don't—I dont understand—you're dead!” He stammers, yanking his hand from yours, and as he breaks out into full-on sobs at this point, he’s reminding you an awful lot of yourself in your own world.

You nod slowly. “In this universe, it seems so... how?”

“What?” he stutters. “This universe?”

You ignore his question. “How did I die, Getou?”

He shakes his head sternly. “No, I'm not saying anything until you explain what you meant. What if you’re a curse? What if I cursed you, holy fuck? Fuck!”

“Okay, curses still exist in this universe; good to know,” you acknowledge with a nod.

Getou snaps, “What are you talking about!?”

You flinch, which only makes him sob harder.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap—I'm just so fucking confused; you're supposed to be dead,” he bawls as he falls to his knees.

You take another step closer and kneel down, drawing him into your embrace and letting him sob into your chest for as long as he needs, ignoring the horrible feeling of deja vu crawling all over you like worms.

“Shh, you're okay,” you whisper, soothingly brushing your fingers through his hair.

He finally starts to calm down after a few more minutes of whispering sweet nothings to him, and once he’s no longer sobbing, he pulls away.

“Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,” he says through sniffles.

You nod.

“What were you talking about, universes? How are you here, Y/N? You’re dead—or you’re supposed to be...”

“Do you believe in alternate or multiple universes?”

He shrugs and wipes away any remaining tears. “I don't know; I never really thought about it.”

You hum and nod. “Right, so, uh, they exist! There are a lot of universes out there, actually." You let out an uneasy laugh.

He stares at you curiously.

“Obviously, I'm not from this universe.”

He continues staring at you.

“Oh, cmon, curses exist, but you draw the line at alternate dimensions?”

Getou frowns and says, “I guess you’re right... So you’re from a ‘different dimension’?”

You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Don't air-quote me like you don't believe me; how else would I be here right now if I were supposedly dead?”

“I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out!” he exclaims, gesticulating wildly.

“Can you just humor me and hear me out?”

He takes a deep breath before ultimately agreeing, “Okay, fine.”

You clasp your hands together. “Okay, um, in my universe, you’re dead.”

“What?!”

You shake your hands and your head. “Ok, no wait! You’re not dead yet, but, uh, you were like on the verge of death when I got put into another universe.”

He looks at you in disbelief. “And you just left me?!”

“It wasn't on purpose! Why would I want to leave you when you’re dying? I don't know how I ended up here! or in the last two other universes!”

He stops you and asks, "Okay, okay, wait—how am I dying?”

You look away awkwardly. “You wanted to change jujutsu society in… a not-so-friendly way... And, um, you were willing to die for your cause.”

“I'm dying the same way you did?”

You return your attention to him. “What?”

Getou nods. “Yeah.”

You shake your head. “What do you mean you're dying the same way I did?”

“In this universe, you’re the one who wanted to change jujutsu society in a... not-so-friendly way,” he explains sheepishly.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself.

He nods again. “So, in yours, our roles are reversed.”

“And I'm dead already? I didn't even last as long as you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess," he shrugs, "but it worked; there hasn't been a curse, at least not a special-grade one, since you died." His eyes gleam as he looks up at you. “Did I succeed?”

You bite the inside of your cheek anxiously and shake your head.

“I'm dying for nothing, then?”

You look away and mumble, “My Getou is okay with it; he knew he might fail—he knew Gojo was the only one who could probably change anything—but he still wanted to try.”

“Okay, well, this—” he gestures to himself, “Getou isn't okay with it.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, well, you’re also still alive, so it doesn't really affect you that much, now does it?”

“Still! You just told me one version of myself is dead—or dying—and I'm supposed to be chill with that?”

You stare at him blankly. “Your version of me is dead.”

Getou grows quiet, and you can almost physically see how his demeanor wilts away.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You said you were in two other universes before this one, right?”

You nod.

“What were they like?”

You smile as you think back on the previous universes: “We were both alive and happy, and we were together in them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... and curses didn't exist either.”

“Huh,” he says ambivalently, like he's not sure whether to be happy for his other selves or be bitter that that isn't him. “Tell me more?”

“In the first one, we were actually on a date in some forest that I apparently loved.”

He stares at you wide-eyed, completely engrossed in your retellings.

“In the second one, we were married.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Really?”

You nod. “We even adopted two daughters.”

“What were they like?” he wonders, enamored by some alternate universe of you two.

“I'm not sure; I didn't get to meet them,” you confess meekly. “But I know their names were Nanako and Mimiko, and they loved doing your hair and makeup. You adored them, and I'm sure I adored them too.”

He nods wistfully. “In your universe, were... were we together?”

“For a bit.” You look away sadly. “We broke up when you, uh, went off and wanted to-“

“Change jujutsu society,” he chimes in.

“Yeah... How'd you-“

“Same thing here, just roles reversed, remember?” He laughs sadly.

You nod. “Did you still love me? even after I'd gone off and did what I did?”

“I did. I do,” he quickly corrects himself. “Did you?”

“I still do.”

The two of you sit looking away from each other in glum silence. It's hard to stay upbeat about your happy alternate selves when your actual selves are currently dying or dead.

“Kinda feels like we got the short end of the stick, don't you think?” Getou mumbles softly.

“Huh?”

“Well, I mean, there are no curses in those universes, and we’re both alive and happy, but in ours we’re dead?” he elaborates.

You nod reluctantly. “Well yeah, but I don't know; I guess it's kinda nice to know that it worked out in at least one universe.”

“Don't you wish it worked out in ours?”

“Of course I do, Getou; what kind of question is that?" you scoff. "You think I want to go back to my universe just to watch you die?”

“Well,” Getou pauses, turning to face you, “what if you don't go back?”

Your gaze zeroes in on his. “What?”

“What if you stay?…”

You abruptly stand up and chuckle uncomfortably. “Getou-“ your sentence is cut short by an echo of your name that only you seem to hear because you're the only one gazing in the general direction it seemed like it came from.

Getou joins you on your feet and follows your stare, but when he realizes you aren't staring at anything, he returns his sight to you.

“Think about it.”

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look back at him with a small frown.

“I'm practically dead in your universe, and you're dead in mine, but we’re together right now!" he says, taking your hand in his. "Maybe the universe put you into mine for a reason— so we don't have to go back to one where we’re not together…”

You struggle to swallow; your mouth suddenly goes dry as Getou stares at you in full, unadulterated hope, and you can't bring yourself to say anything to crush that.

“Y/N, wouldn't that be nice?”

You nod and murmur, “It would.”

“Then?” he asks expectantly.

Someone calling out your name echoes in your head again, and you quickly look down the street to now see a small, bright light in the distance, and you know your time here is soon coming to an end.

“I... I can't stay, Getou.”

His voice cracks as he panickedly asks, “Why?”

"Because,” you explain with a shake of your head, “I'm not your Y/N, and you're not my Getou.”

“I could be,” he says confidently, or he would have if it weren't for the way his voice trembled.

Your vision goes blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head.

“We could try!”

You sniffle and reiterate, “I can't stay.”

“Please,” he begs through his sobs. “Please, we can make it work.”

You look away from him, trying to fight back your tears, but it's futile; you’re a complete mess, just like he is now. “No.”

His hands shake as he grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, please, I'm begging you.”

“I cant.”

“Don't leave me again.”

The same voice calling out your name echoes in your head again, this time louder, and the bright light is getting bigger and closer.

“I don't want to go back to a universe where you’re just gonna leave me either, but,” you sob, weakly clinging onto the wrists of his hands that are still on your face.

“So stay.”

You shake your head and take his hands off your face. “I won't.”

Getou’s head goes limp and drops as sobs shake his entire body, and you can't help but think that's exactly how you'll look when you return to your universe and have to deal with the death of your Getou.

“Please,” he pleads.

You're both in tears as you lift his head up by his chin to look at you. The voice calling your name echoes even louder, and the bright light is getting closer by the second.

“You’re not my Getou, and I'm not your Y/N.”

He nods reluctantly. “I know, but...“

The bright light is only a few feet away at this point, and the voice echoing in your head is so loud that it's giving you a migraine—you know this is your last few minutes, if that, in this universe, so you lean in and take Getou’s lips into yours—a goodbye kiss for a Getou who you'll never see again, a goodbye kiss for a Getou who desperately needs one when he never got one from his y/n. You pull away and cradle his cheek gently.

“I have to go say goodbye to my Getou now; I think he’s waiting for me.”

He nods. “If he’s anything like me, he’ll want a goodbye kiss too.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips. “I know.”

Getou doesn't get the chance to respond when you're suddenly gone—completely vanished right before his eyes.

You, on the other hand, are back again, feeling unstable as you float through time and space, and again, the uncertainity of the feeling forces your eyes open, but this time you're met with only one thing—the image of you on your Getou’s chest. With every passing second, it grows closer, as does his voice calling out for you, and before you know it, you're back in your body, looking up at him with a gasp.

“Y/N?” he asks weakly.

You're still in tears from the previous universe as you now pull him into your embrace.

He winces, and you quickly let go of him. “Sorry.”

He smiles at you with blood in his mouth and teeth. “It's okay.”

You have to force yourself to look away to try and choke back a sob, but Getou notices immediately and slowly lifts up his remaining hand to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You nod. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” you croak out.

“Kiss me?” He asks out of breath, knowing he doesn't have much longer.

You don't hesitate to lean in and kiss him, ignoring how it tastes like blood and tears as well as how cold his lips feel. You ignore it because he's kissing you back. He’s kissing you with all the power his frail body can muster, and it makes up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, and seconds that your lips haven’t touched. But just as quickly as he kisses you, he stops, but it's gradual; he gradually stops kissing, moving, and breathing. It doesn't take long for it to get to that point, and even when he's not kissing back, you still kiss him with some fairy-tale hope that it will bring him back, that your kiss will somehow save him, like he's Snow White and you're Prince Charming. But it doesn't.

It doesnt.

You pull away to look at Getou, whose eyes are glazed over but not closed. You sob as you reach up to close his eyes, only to let your head fall against his chest. He’s so cold. Too cold. That's why you have to stay there on top of him to keep him warm. You'll stay there all night if you have to. But you don't even get the chance to stay there for longer than a few minutes when someone suddenly pulls you off of him, and you look over your shoulder to see Gojo, who's crying as well.

“He’s gone, Y/N.”

"I know," you sniffle, “I know.”

Gojo helps you up to your feet, his hand on your waist to keep you steady as he leads you away from Getou’s body. The further you get from it, the harder you cry.

But it's okay. It’ll be okay because, even though you lost Getou in this universe, you’ll eventually be able to come to peace with it knowing that in a hundred, a thousand, and even a million other universes, you and Getou are living happily ever after.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

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thatweeboverthereisthirsty · 3 months

Note

Jade & Lilia reacting to their fem s/o that vapes/smokes 👀

Part 4 of S/O Who Vapes/Smokes

(Azul, Jade, Jamil, Lilia)

A/N: ironically I started this before I tried vaping and now I'm trying to quit 😅 (20 days sober lol)

The sheer surprise Azul experiences by seeing a cigarette set casually in your fingers is unexplainable by his standards

Smoke billowed from your parted lips and he let out a small squeak of shock

You turned towards your boyfriend and felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment

“A-Azul! When did you get here?”

“Just in time to see you engaging in a disgusting habit.”

Shame flooded your system and you scowled

In anger you took another long draw and you felt his gaze burn into you

He scowls and marches over to you

You pull back and look at him with defiance but startle when his gaze softens a bit

“Y/N” he started cautiously, “You know I love you and support you no matter what you do, right?”

You nod hesitantly and he continues “But I also want what is best for you and I might come from the sea but I do know a thing or two about stuff that hurts humans.”

It was hard to look him in the eye as he said that and you busied yourself snuffing out the cigarette

“I love you, Angel but this isn’t good for you and you know it.”

“I know but I can’t help it. Azul it helps, it really does.”

He sighs and sits down next to you, his nose wrinkling at the smell of your after smoke.

“There are people who can help… I can look into some resources for you?” he asks careful not to upset you

For a moment you sit in tense silence before finally turning towards him with sad eyes

“Can I try to quit on my own first?”

He smiles and nods at you before kissing you briefly even though you know the smell and taste bothers him

“Of course Angel. I’m with you every step of the way.”

You’ve only been vaping for about a month but you could tell you were already addicted to it

The flavor, the feeling, the smell, the buzz, all of it was more addicting than anything you’ve ever experienced

The problem you had now was that your boyfriend just caught you taking a hit and you were suddenly regretting all of it

Jade was quiet for a moment, standing in your dorm room doorway stiffly

As if he snapped out of a trance he stepped into your room and closed the door behind him as he set his bag down

“So, how was your day?”

You cringed inwardly and looked down at your vape which you still held like it was a lifeline that could save you from this conversation

“Jade…”

“My day was good, Floyd tried to beat up a student and Azul wants me back early tonight to test out a new recipe before he opens the lounge”

His eyes met yours and you saw cold indifference in them

It hurt your heart to see him like this after you spent so long trying to get to the softer side of him which he rarely let anyone see, not even Floyd had been given that privilege since they were kids

“Jade!”

He raised an eyebrow and sighed dramatically as he sat on your bed

“Listen little Coral, I don’t care what you do or don’t do with your life but I do know that there are other ways to handle your problems.”

You bit your lip, feeling like a scolded child

“You will get through this and next time you feel the urge to bring that nasty device to your precious lips, come to me and I will distract them with a much more therapeutic activity.”

You blushed wildly and gawked up at him

“Now about that test you have tomorrow” he said with a smirk

You scowled at the thought of the impending doom that loomed over you then grinned as an idea struck you

“You know Jade, I’m kinda feeling like vaping right now. Maybe I could take you up on that offer?”

Needless to say, you didn’t get much studying done

It’s late when Jamil finds you smoking off the balcony at Scarabia

Kalim had invited you to stay the night after another one of his parties and you agreed knowing it would make the childish dorm leader happy

You didn’t expect that anyone else would be up this late so when you heard a shocked gasp you startled

Jamil had been on his way to the kitchen to make some tea for Kalim who was having trouble sleeping but strayed from his original task to take the cigarette from your hand

“What are you doing?!”

You rolled your eyes as if you were annoyed even though you just didn’t want to see the disappointment in his gaze

He waits patiently for a response but when it’s clear he isn’t going to get one he sighs

He takes your hand gently and pulls you towards him into a hug

“I know that you can’t help it if you are addicted but if you aren’t yet please stop. I love your voice and I love you, I can’t imagine not having either one day because of this.”

You look up at him with shameful tears in your eyes and he frowns as he wipes them gently

“I’m sorry Jamil.”

“I know, and I’m sorry you feel like you have to do this.”

The two of you talk for hours into the night about how he can help you and eventually you fall asleep in his arms

Lilia has seen and tried just about everything there is to try so when he sees you with a mysterious device in your mouth he is confused

You pull the vape device from your lips and he watches as white vapor follows it

As he gets closer he notes that it smells like the fruity scent you usually have

He had assumed it was some kind of perfume but he supposes it probably comes from your peculiar vapor device

That's when it hits him- the smell of nicotine hidden under sickly flavoring

Any normal human wouldn’t be able to scent something so subtle but to him it’s as if you had bathed in the stuff

“Love?” he appears next to you suddenly

Months ago that would have scared you but now you found it endearing

“Lilia!” you exclaim, slipping your vape into your pocket in what you hoped was a natural and unnoticeable way

He raised an eyebrow and summoned the vape to his hand and held it in front of you

“What is this odd device?” he asks in his rare serious tone

Sighing you explain to him that it is a modern way of smoking and that it is healthier than cigarettes so it is ok to do

He frowns through your explanation

“First, nothing that contains addictive non-prescription substances could ever be healthy in any way, second I can smell the chemicals that are no doubt doing damage to your lungs as we speak.”

Maybe he was being a little dramatic but he knew how sensitive humans were to these things and he would do anything to keep his human healthy and safe

You look at the ground while he speaks and he sighs in frustration

He doesn’t want you to feel scolded or ashamed, he just gets nervous about your health

“We will figure it out ok love? For now can you try not to do it as often?”

You nod and he kisses you soundly, Lilia will do anything for his human and he vows to find an alternative to your vaping device that allows you to feel secure in yourself and him to feel secure in your health

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #jamil x reader #azul x reader #jade x reader #lilia x reader

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lowkeyremi · 5 months

Text

WHAT YOU NEED S. Geto x fem!reader

"And I'm gon' give you girl, what you fiend, I'm the drug in your veins, just fight through the pain, He's what you want, he's what you want, I'm what you need, what you need, what you need"

➥ In which Geto entertains you when the guy you want doesn't

content: reader is indecisive, geto kinda takes advantage of that??? slightly toxic (look at me stepping out of my fluff comfort zone) slightly suggestive, a little bit of angst

A scream crawls its way up your throat and you throw your phone across the room, no regard for the aftermath of that action. You've been casually flirting with this guy for months and every once in a while he gives you the cold shoulder, ignoring your calls and everything. You know he is because he'll read your messages and not respond.

He called you an "obsessive bitch" the last time this ordeal happened because you had managed to call him 237 times and leave him 400+ texts in the span of a week. He later apologized for calling you that and you forgave him because of your desperation to get with him.

This whole thing has happened four times, and you'll admit those weren't your brightest times. Your friends have told you to stop talking to him because this obsession isn't healthy and if you two did have a real falling out who knows what you'd do.

UnLuckily for you, your favorite distraction was driving around with Gojo and happened to be near your complex. Geto. He of all people has tried to convince you that you don't need this man, and he's proven time and time again that he's the better option (as fucked up as he is) but you won't give up on this guy until he gives you a verbal rejection.

Knock, knock, knock. You know who it is, so you don't bother to open the door. He has a key and depending on how long he's been standing there he might have heard your little tantrum.

After a minute you hear the lock click slowly, giving you a chance to run toward your bedroom and lock the door. You don't want to see him. He's so addictive and bad for you and you deserve a normal man, you suppose. The problem is you're far from normal so of course Geto is the only one who will truly understand you. He's what you need after all.

Those three soft knocks at your door make you tense up slightly as you hide under your covers with your eyes closed imagining what it would be like if you and that normal guy started to date.

"Open up princess. Seems like you're still chasing after that fucking idiot." His voice is like honey and you almost do go open the door for him and invite him into your heart like you always do.

"Go away, Geto. I don't want you here- I don't need you here." Your voice is so small and you hate it. You know for a fact he isn't convinced.

"Geto? What happened to Suguru or Sugu?" He asks softly, you can almost picture it. He's leaning against your door with a smirk on his face.

"I.... I don't. I don't-"

"You don't what? Need me? Who are you trying to fool? Open the door so I can make it all better." His voice lowers a few octaves on that last part and you jump from your bed to open the door. You're greeted by Suguru who's gazing at you lustfully, but you know behind that lust is worry and care.

"There she is, my beautiful little mess. Did you miss me?" He's been out of town for two weeks (you counted the days). Of course the first person he'd visit when coming back was you.

"No. I was doing fine without you." You lie through your teeth. He knows you're lying too. You've never been good at hiding from him.

"I missed you too. I was hoping you'd come to your senses though, and leave that poor man alone. He can't handle you, baby." Suguru holds his arms out for you and you run to them hugging him tightly.

He hears your soft sobs and he knows he's twisted for smiling but he loves it when you cry. "I want him Sugu, I want him so bad." You whine into his chest and he feels your salty tears stain his shirt.

"I know you do, baby, but he doesn't want you. I'm what you need." He reminds you and you cry into his shirt for a good couple of minutes.

When you do come to yourself again, your teary eyes meet his and he smiles at you warmly. You give him a weak smile in return and he has to admit that it made his heart swell a little bit.

"What do you want to do, sweetheart?" He's rubbing your back up and down slowly. The other hand is planted on your ass, giving it a little squeeze.

You keep eye contact with him as you fumble with his belt buckle, "Such a good girl." His look is almost predatory when he sees you drop to your knees.

(one day i'll come back and write smut for this :P)

----------

You're cuddled up against his bare chest. He's so warm and inviting, you hate it. Well, you only partially hate it. You hate the fact that you don't hate it enough.

"Feeling better?" He already knows the answer but he wants to hear you say it. Suguru always wants a verbal response from you.

"Mhm." That's all he's going to get out of you. You're mad that you sucked him off and fucked him. It hurts to know you'll never be in a normal relationship. You love him and you hate him all the same.

"Will you let me keep taking care of you? I want to put a label on what we have." He sounds so sincere and sweet, but you see right through him. He wants you to be his, so he doesn't have to share you with anyone. As endearing as that sounds it also sounds suffocating.

Suguru is already a very demanded presence in your life. There is fear planted in your brain and you wonder what will happen if you come to like that with time. More than you already do.

"You want to be my boyfriend?" Buying time was crucial, you still needed a minute or two to process this. It's not the first time he's asked you this question. Any other time you would have replied without effort but now you wonder what it would be like to have him in your life as a romantic partner.

"Precisely."

He's watching you like a hawk. The way you bite your lip in thought, the way you don't meet his gaze, the way you shift in his arms, he notices it all.

"Okay, be my boyfriend. Give me what that other guy couldn't." A pleased smile makes its way to his face as he hugs you close.

"Best decision you've ever made." He smirks and you look away. Instead of hate you feel butterflies.

He's yours. You're his. This might be the start of something new and beautiful. But who truly knows?

I wrote this for a little challenge hosted by @halosdiary where you write abt jjk men but base it off a song by the weeknd. I was going to do "shameless" but i read my rough draft and hated it so i switched up and decided to do "what you need"! Hope you guys enjoy this little project!!

#geto suguru #geto #suguru geto #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x female reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #geto angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader #getou x reader #geto suguru x you #the weeknd

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suguruplsr · 8 months

Note

idk if ur requests are open but ok toji x reader based off of this song: I LOVE YOU HOE by Odetari/9lives it just gives me major toji vibes idk how 2 explain it but i heard and just KNEW cuz yk toji a lil toxic BUT ITS OKAYY

toxic toji w/ head cannons!

✰ ✰ ✰ sweet girl. so naive and gullible. he might have to hunt you down once you get too smart.. so just play along.

જ⁀➴ my brain wrote and made this. i love that song!

,, fem!reader , toxic toji , dark content , manipulation (emotionally n’ all of that) , yandere ? , smut , brief angst n fluff , mentions of baby megumi , toji killed someone in front of you , random person hits on reader , other kinda f’ed up stuff idk how to word , not proofread.

toji who nearly got scared for the first time when you said you wanted a break. a break from him. but admittedly, he was more surprised than scared, you were seriously going to leave him? he stopped spending all of his money on betting and started saving just so he could provide more just for you. he even decided on keeping megumi because you liked the baby so much. maybe because his heart also warmed whenever he’d hear you sweetly talking to the babbling thing in the next room, sitting beside his crib and sticking a finger or two between the wooden walls for megumi to grip onto loosely. a sight he enjoys seeing every morning.

now, toji doesn’t consider himself a desperate man, but after finding out that, within your little two week break, you ended up talking to another man. which you weren’t, in that context, the kind guy just wanted your number, to which you quickly declined. and he got a bit.. pushy, too much for toji’s liking. and you appreciate it but maybe not enough? you didn’t immediately cling back to him again, and you only talked to him to see the cute baby that was usually attached to his hip, and to occasionally check up on him.

so can you really blame toji when he decided to remind you that you were the only person who knows of his job? that you were the only person who knew of the blood he spilled, of the capabilities he had that could end your life. not that he ever would. him killing someone in front of you was enough. it was enough to have you back in his house, back by his side, back to him. and to think toji almost thought of taking a step further when you weren’t as shook as he, just about, wishes you were. however, your initial reaction before knowing it was him made his dick twitch, it’s so funny, how you tried to just act more so.. bothered by the blood, and not questioning his excuse of, “right time, wrong place.”

and as an apology, toji makes sure you get fucked thoroughly that night. in his bed. he didn’t mean to paint your front door in blood. poor girl.

“didn’t mean ta make you see such a thing pretty.” toji groans, hands clutching your waist as he guides you down on his cock, watching the way you bit your wet lip in anticipation, nail’s digging into his shoulder as he lets you go and you fall onto his lap with a loud sound of the slap of your flesh meeting, taking in his girth in your pussy with ease. the pain was brief, and you felt so full, legs shaking over his thighs as you try to say something, only able to think about how he stretched you out. why did you ever leave him?

“s’okayyyy, i— fuck. i don’t mind.. just promise to clean it up tomorrow, ngh, please?” you’re so cute, trying to only think of the gruesome view earlier as a normal thing. but toji had seen it, the fear that had flashed through your eyes at first, fear that even stayed with your eyes that lingered on him after realizing who was the reason of the sorcerers death. just thinking about it makes him want to spurt a fat load into your pussy, holding you tightly as he slowly helps you ride his cock. “mmm yea? of course i will, gotta take care my princess right?” and you think he meant that literally, considering he fucked you so good you were hella cock drunk in the morning, getting mad when he tried to leave early. but he had to clean up his mess right? so don’t get too worried. he’s filled with excitement after realizing he’s got you back.

toxic toji! who just needs to go to some extra measures after someone’s shamelessly hitting on you at the store. does the poor guy really not see him behind you, trying, to read the contents of food before picking it out? something he never does. he’s just thinking about the 563 ways he could kill that man, wait! he just thought of another!

so he wraps his larger arm around your waist, giving a small peck on your cheek as he whispers something about “getting home before megumi wakes up” but toji’s staring dead into the guys eyes, maybe he should find out if hes on someone’s hit list. of course he’d gladly kill him without getting paid but if he does get some cash in his pocket, then at least he’d have a reason to not gain your look of disappointment..

toxic toji! who always keeps you stable. he never asked for you stay with him but there’s so many signs of you within his house. from another toothbrush to new fluffy blankets. or the extra cups on counters, or the freshly baked cookies that wait to be eaten by you, him, and little gumi. he buys you new clothes that stay in his closet, which he never minded. it was kinda endearing watching you rearrange his closet after asking, perfectly sectioning each others clothes. he loves walking in and seeing the contrasting colors.

but as adorable as it is, toji doesn’t mind making it a mission to remind you that he’s the one keeping you together whenever you get out of hand too much. the only thing he wouldn’t bring up, is anything relating to trauma you’ve experienced. he’s not that bad of a guy. but whenever you try stepping out the car, angry and upset, he doesn’t hesitate to list out every reason why you should get back in, driving nice and slow beside you. toji starts from the most basic things, “it’s late.” or “a pretty woman like you needs protection.” to “i’m the one driving. get in or else no ones finding ya.” or “y’know gumi’s gonna be sad without his mommy.. don’t want to do that to the kid, right?” because no one has the amount of patience to put up with you like he does. so just ignore the way his lips curl in amusement and how comfortable his hand feels on your thigh when you get back in. good girl.

toxic toji! who swears to himself it’s wrong to use his son as a gateway to your heart but it just makes the process so easy. he even convinces himself that it’s okay, children come first right? and he would hate for his child to lose his mother figure. and toji would hate to lose the woman he loves. so he’s bringing up megumi in everything, slowly changing the conversation to his favor so he can slide in the fact that, “the kid’s sleepin’. just get in bed and we’ll talk in the morning.” and you don’t talk it out, never. it weighs in your heart two hours tops before baby megumi is in your arms and you’re feeding him small little fruits. taking small glances at toji who looks at you two warmly and it makes your heart burn in affection because he’s not usually like this.

with the help of a few friends you talk it out with, and who have suddenly stopped talking to you after a while. sometimes the blaring signs of his actions are just so apparent you try to tell yourself that you’re simply staying for megumi. but you’ve only fallen deeper into toji’s words. he’s the one who’s made you think that way, so even if everything else fails, there’s always megumi. the child you both love. whose sadly a weapon that’s always on toji’s tongue. but even when you think it’s only megumi you’re thinking about, you find yourself reluctantly cutting carrots for toji because even with his job, the fruit looks so fucking uneven when he cuts it. yea, it’s just bothering you is all. just like how he puts the wrong settings for his washer, can he really complain about his sweaters when he didn’t set it to delicate? but you’re just so pissed at his inability to do simple things that you don’t realize how whipped he is. a smile tugging his lips when you gently take the knife out his hands. or force him out of his sweater to put it in your next load of clothes. no, he never did any of that on purpose. he just didn’t have his daily dose of you, to hear in his head how you’d scold him on certain things.

it’s a shame, you don’t realize what you’re getting into the second he’s on his knees with a box open on the palm of his hand. you don’t realize what you’ve done to that man..

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naughtystiel · 3 months

Text

It wasn’t raining.

For some reason whenever Dean thought of this day, he imagined the sky to be covered with heavy dark clouds. Clearly this wasn’t the case. Instead, everything seemed so lively. Spring brought chirping birds, vividly coloured flowers began to bloom and the sun shone brightly high in the sky. The few people gathered around wore light jackets so it really had to be a beautiful day. He wished he could feel the warmth on his skin too.

A priest stood on the opposite end of the deep hole and Dean grimaced. He had never been a religious man and he wasn’t going to listen to anything that was coming out of the priest’s mouth now either. Meandering between people, he walked further away. Yeah, Lord have mercy and rest in peace o’wayward son.

So, where did he go from here?

“Hello.” Somebody said next to him, but Dean didn’t even bother to look. They weren’t talking to him anyway. They couldn’t be. With arms loosely crossed over his chest, he looked skywards. It was a beautiful day.

“Dean?”

Dean looked to the side, an eyebrow raised. A man in his thirties observed him, hands tucked in his dress pants. “How do you know my name? Do I know you?”

The man nodded his chin towards the priest, “Heard him mention a Dean, so I’m guessing that must be you. Nice suit.” He smiled and Dean looked down at his outfit. Suits weren’t exactly his thing, but he didn’t really think to make a will and they shoved him in this. Did they even bury people in plaids? Probably.

“That would be me, indeed.” Dean tilted his head to the side and scanned the graveyard. Interesting. “Are you dead too? I guess you gotta be.”

The man hummed, “Mmm, you could say so.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. Was that a yes or a no? “So, is it just you and me or is anybody else here with us?”

“Nah, they moved on.”

“And you?"

“In the process.”

“I see.”

They both stood in silence, watching the ceremony. A few roses got dropped into the hole. A nice gesture, but it was a waste of money. They could at least put it on top once the casket was actually covered with dirt.

Low rumble disrupted the quiet. “How are you feeling?”

Dean splayed his arms and shrugged. “I mean, I’m dead. I don’t really know.”

The man turned his head towards Dean. “Okay, lemme ask you this - what’s on your mind? Anything particular?”

Now that was a good question. Nothing. A lot. First thing that came to mind was that he wouldn’t be able to see that new Indiana Jones movie he was so looking forward to. But that was just stupid, wasn’t it? Shouldn’t he be thinking of his regrets? Unfinished business? “I wish I could feel the sun on my cheeks.”

“Ah, that I can agree with. The sunset kind. Not too sharp, soft like a gentle veil that droops over your face.” The man gave him a small smile and Dean nodded.

“You see that tall guy there? The tallest of them all. My brother. Last time I saw him we argued.” Dean sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I guess it kinda bothers me that this is how he’s gonna remember me now.”

“Probably not. Usually when a person dies you remember the good things. Unless of course the bad outweighed the good which I don’t think is the case here.” The man scuffed the tip of his polished shoe in the dirt. “Grieving is complicated, it messes with your head. I bet you heard about how it usually progresses but personally I think it’s more like jumping back and forth between the steps. It does pass though.”

“That supposed to make me feel better?”

The man shrugged, his dark lock tousled by gentle breeze. He kept his gaze down, chewing on his bottom lip. “Only stating the facts. Anything else bothering you?”

just a snippet of "the art of moving on" which i might work on more in the future. and if i do, it wont be very long but i think itd be worth exploring :)

#spn #destiel #drabble.txt #vin.txt

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 months

Text

Passing Autumn Nights

[Proxies (Toby, Masky, Hoodie) X GN!Reader]

[Warnings: Like, none?]

[AN: also known as the 'fuck me i just miss autumn' fic and LOVE writing slice of life things.]

[1356 words <3]

Reblogs are appreciated!

Moments like these never last forever. Fleeting, careless, and bittersweet, they remind you of a time long, long passed. The moon is rising and a chill runs through the air. It oddly warms you and reminds you of friends that pass in and out of your life just as freely, though in your past life it might have caused you minor concern.

You sit on the hood of this stupid car Toby stole. It’s sporting a giant dent in the side, and some of the paint near the tires is rusting but it’s taken care of the four of you so far. In your hand is a pack of cigarettes. You don’t smoke. You tried it once and hated it, coughing up like a crude imitation of a dragon lighting up your first attempt, and never tried again after that. They’re actually Tim’s; he wants you to hold them to help kick his habit.

Brian says it’s a sign he’s trusting you more and more. After all, no one knows Tim like him, and you trust your right hand’s judgment.

Laying in the back seat is Brian himself. His forearm is over his eyes to shield them from the harsh overhead lights in the parking lot. He smells like pine, the woods, a bit of whiskey but not too much. He’s got his back windows rolled down as he waits with you for Toby and Tim to finish whatever the hell they’re doing inside the grocery store. You all needed some cash, and Tim has ways of getting it without any suspicion raised. Whole registers, wallets, purses, things lifted without so much as a smile on his face and an oddly friendly, ‘have a nice day’ in response.

In your hands, you play with the lighter Tim also left with you. You flick it a few times before finally hearing your right hand’s voice.

“Leave it,” he hums tiredly, not bothering to move his forearm from his closed eyes. “Thing’s low enough.”

You smile softly and cap it before resting it back in your jacket pocket. For a mid October day, it’s only a little cold, which is surprising. You expected it to be chillier. Or maybe that’s just your proxy blood telling you to not register cold the way a human might. There’s scrapes all over your body, some from missions, others from training, only one from The Operator himself. You trace over the heated mark on your clothed thigh and internally wince, remembering when you upset him. “Sorry,” you apologize half heartedly as you run your thumb in slow circles over the smooth box of cigarettes. “Just get antsy waiting.”

Brian hums again in response as if to ask ‘why’, but makes no further move to press. He just smiles slightly in response to your presence. “You can always ask them how they’re doing,” he says. When you glance over your shoulder to peer at him through the windshield, he tapes at his temple. Head talk, of course.

You squint a bit across the parking lot and feel a small bout of relief wash through your system as Tim and Toby step out of the store, bags in hand from legitimate purchases, and well, you can feel the things they acquired outside of legal bounds. “No need to,” you say in response to Brian.

“Get off the hood,” Tim chides you slightly, but he makes no further move to disturb you. It’s said much like an older brother would to a pesky younger sibling.

In solidarity, and out of a love for annoying his leader, Toby haphazardly opens the trunk of the car, tosses the bags inside which earns a scowl from Tim, and then bounds over to sit on the hood with you. He leans back a bit, resting his tired body alongside yours. “Kinda crowded in there,” he says to you, knowing you’re curious about how it all went. “Bit too crowded for a Thursday at 8pm,” he muses further. He runs his fingers through his chopped brown hair, gazing at the night sky. The moon has always captivated him. Reminds him of simpler times. He likes autumn just as much as you do, and this feels like the best it’s going to get.

“What took you guys so long, then?” You inquire as you and Toby listen with half attention to Brian and Tim’s conversation. Something about future work, run of the mill proxy lifestyle things.

Toby rummages around in his pockets and pulls out a handful of dum dum lollipops he lifted. He gives you a toothy grin and nods for you to pick a flavor before he settles on blue raspberry after you’ve chosen. He crinkles the wrapper, shoves it in his pocket and then holds his hand out for you to give him your wrapper as well. He pops the sweet thing in his mouth and savors the taste before shrugging a bit, “you know Tim. That’s how it always is.” He smiles when Tim taps the windshield in slight annoyance.

“C’mon, get back in the car. We got somewhere to go,” Tim says as he starts the car up. Either you two get in, or he’s driving with you two strapped to the top of the car.

“Shotgun-!”

“Sh-oh come on,” Toby sighs in defeat as you snicker in triumph and slide off the hood of the car. You pat his shoulder and then round your way to the passenger seat, settling in and feeling oddly warmer despite not registering you were cold to begin with. You watch as Toby slouches his way to the backseat with Brian, who at first, does not want to move for the former runt. When Toby shoves him, Brian only laughs and tells him to ‘not get your panties in a bunch’.

“So, where are we going?” You ask as Tim puts the car in drive and smoothly leaves the parking lot. You’re always surprised at the places proxies end up. Right now, you’re in southern Illinois right around Ruth’s hometown. You wouldn’t tell her, but you visited her family’s farm and left a small gift. She would say it’s far too much, and even dangerous for proxy influence to be near her folks and younger siblings but The Operator’s always been fond of her. He wouldn’t hurt them. Not while she performs beautifully for him.

Tim props his left arm up on the sill of the car window, resting his head there as he drives with one hand. He’s very relaxed, preferring driving at night as opposed to dealing with everyone else when the sun is out shining. He won’t admit it either, but he loves autumn nights like these too. He watches the lights of the town start to fade as you head further south. “Stopping in a small proxy town, meeting with EJ, then Jeff is gonna tag along. Something about… a farm? Lotta farms lately,” he chuckles tiredly. “It’s kinda perfect for Halloween - I’ve never seen The Operator so fascinated with a witch before. So, that. He said he wanted us with those two, and we’ll get further directions once we’re at said farm.”

Brian clears his throat and adjusts his posture so he’s sitting up. “That farm gonna have pumpkins?” He asks. It’s surprisingly out of character for your right hand, arguably one of the most brutal proxies in your team.

Tim shrugs. “Fuck if I know.”

You laugh softly, “why? You wanna carve some?”

Some part of Brian’s old world personality shines through. His smile, the crinkle in his eyes despite him being older and no longer a college student but a weathered, jaded proxy is visible as he nods slightly. “Yeah,” he sniffs slightly, gaze now falling out the window at the orange, red and yellow trees visible from the car’s headlights as you pass, only to see them disappear as the four of you roll through. “Always liked autumn,” he says.

There’s that warm, gentle feeling again. You focus on your lollipop, feeling the presence of something mulled and sweet. This is as good as it’s gonna get.

“Yeah,” a pause, “me too.”

#creepypasta x reader #proxies x reader #marble hornets x reader #masky x reader #toby x reader #ticci toby x reader #brian thomas x reader #hoodie x reader #creepypasta x you #marble hornets x you #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #masky x you

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earlgarden-archived · 10 months

Note

I haven't seen much of this, but what about Danganronpa x Ranpo!reader (from bsd). Like, everyone in the trial is trying to figure out the murderer, and the reader is just standing there, already knowing the identity of the killer-

Personally I would prefer if the reader was in Danganronpa V3, mostly because I enjoy the cast more. But that does mean that the reader can't be the ultimate detective, so you can make the reader be in Danganronpa 2 if you want :)

Extra comment:

"all's well that's well for me!"

ft. Danganronpa V3 Cast, Ranpo!reader

synopsis. You find yourself trapped in a school, with 16 other students and forced into a killing game! But don't worry, you're the ultimate Private Investigator!

warnings. Spoiler to the Danganronpa V3 game, mentions of death, kinda short

This was fun to make :) I had to rewatch BSD though, I feel like I haven't watched it in a while 😅

·˚✎ straight off the bat, you would annoy the hell out of Maki

·˚✎ you are just plain rude sometimes, and you seem like you don't take things seriously at all, which is just a huge red flag for Maki

·˚✎ like calling everyone stupid, or not helping with investigations and just simply snacking in your room

·˚✎ in some way, you're kinda like Kokichi

·˚✎ speaking of Kokichi, he would take an interest in you. You're just... So carefree. Just like him.

·˚✎ but he could tell for sure that you were not what you seemed. I can imagine you and Kokichi having a small competition to who's smarter.

·˚✎ Kaito thought you were low-key creepy. Because you just didn't seem to be bothered. You only looked slightly shocked when Monokuma announced the killing game, but after a while you returned to your calm face.

·˚✎ Kaede kinda liked your carefree attitude. But she also found you a bit rude, which didn't cause her to be very close with you

·˚✎ Shuichi was always caught off guard when with you, so he didn't really become friends with you until after the first trial. When he began to realise your intelligence.

·˚✎ speaking of the first trial (haha amazing transition), you didn't really do much to help. During the investigation, you just went back to your room. So everyone thought you were being lazy and selfish.

·˚✎ but then when everyone was driven to a corner, you stepped in and helped everyone.

·˚✎ literally no one expected you, who didn't even help with the investigations, to have figured everything out. But that's when you pulled a "I'll let the main character do everything" move. (Flashback to "tell them Naegi")

·˚✎ like, you'd be the Kyoko Kirigiri of Danganronpa V3, just more annoying and more lazy.

·˚✎ although, when it came to Kaede not being the actual killer, that was probably the one thing you accidentally overlooked. And it was only until later that you realized that Kaede might not actually be the killer of Rantaro. Or maybe you were already killed before you figured it out

·˚✎ slowly, everyone took a liking for your personality, because you were pretty trustworthy

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa v3 #shuichi x reader #kaede x reader #kaito x reader #maki x reader #kokichi x reader #shuichi saihara x reader #kaede akamatsu x reader #kaito mamota x reader #maki harukawa x reader #kokichi ouma x reader #ranpo edogawa

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angel-kyo · 2 months

Text

Pay it no mind

Part XVIII

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself, and... idk, I didn't mean to put anything warning worthy here, but if you think of something I guess let me know. <3

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII

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

The days that followed after Satoru told you he liked you, it seemed that everything had gone back to normal and you two were slowly falling back into your usual routine: meeting up early in the mornings, bantering in between classes and missions, and eating lunch with Shoko when all of you were at the school. It was comforting to have things return to how they used to be, or that was what you thought.

“What’s up with him?” Shoko asked across from you.

Satoru had business to attend so he had just left you and Shoko at the table in the cafeteria.

“What do you mean?” you looked in the direction he had gone but could no longer see him.

From your perspective, Satoru had not changed much since that day he walked through the school holding your hand; he had not pressed the subject of whether you liked him back still any further either, and since he appeared to be okay in this grey zone where you two were sitting, you had not brought it up either. However, Shoko, as perceptive as ever, had noticed how Gojo, who always seemed to like your personal space, was moving into it almost permanently these days; how he was not even bothering to be discreet with the way he looked at you or remained by your side when you were in the same room, and how, if he was not careful, it would be evident to everyone pretty soon.

At first, Shoko had believed it was all in her head; since that day, years ago, when she first considered that Gojo could have some kind of crush on you, the notion had prevailed. In fact, she had thought she was looking into her friends’ relationship too much, maybe because none of them seem to pay any mind to how they were perceived, so it was not entirely impossible her eyes were just making her believe what she had accepted as true for so long was finally materializing.

Gojo’s laid-back attitude had been one of the reasons why Shoko doubted he cared seriously about whatever feelings he could have for you. Other than that rocky season in high school and a few other occurrences through the years that followed, Satoru had never taken any steps towards an actual relationship with you. Hence, Shoko thought it's a harmless crush.

But as of lately, he looked more... intent. Or maybe...

He’s losing his grip.

“You’ve never found him annoying, have you?” Your friend looked at her almost empty plate and it somehow reminded you of a similar talk you had had months ago.

“A bunch of times, but I guess I don’t find him too annoying,” you answered.

“Isn’t that all love is about?” Ieiri’s eyes connected with yours.

Her comment caught you off guard, and she might have noticed the way your smile froze because her gaze did not leave yours.

You did the only thing that could think of: laugh it off. “Yeah, I guess, if love is annoying, that is.”

Are you finally annoyed by it, Gojo?

“You tell me.” Shoko smiled and put the last bite of her food in her mouth.

***

“Why won’t she just admit she likes him?” Satoru asked while looking at the movie playing in front of him.

Maybe it was a rhetorical question, but you did not look at him before replying “Because there would have been no movie if they were that direct.”

It was a Friday night and Satoru had made an impromptu proposal to you to have a movie marathon at his place. You had accepted but now, into your first movie of the night, you were having trouble to stay focused on the story, which was supposed to be some sort of romantic comedy, not half as bad as many, but the romantic scenes were making you self-conscious.

You watched the scene where the protagonists had gone from arguing to making out and you felt the need to look somewhere else.

From the corner of your eye, Satoru seemed unimpressed.

He’s unfazed, of course he is.

Actually, Satoru was only calm on the surface. Unbeknownst to you, he had also perceived the change in the air between the two of you when the more intimate scenes started playing. He thought he should have chosen a different film, but suggesting changing it now would only make the unsaid more obvious, so he was sticking it up with the most unexpressive face he could manage as the actors on the screen seemed to melt into each other.

Satoru had not meant anything suggestive by choosing that movie; he had just played the first thing he found as he always did when you had not planned in advance, and under normal circumstances, that would have been fine. You had watched all kinds of films together, including romantic ones, the good and the bad ones, but now…

Satoru was already looking at you when you were about to steal another glance in his direction.

His gaze revealed a question he dared not ask, or rather, a question he had promised himself he would not ask until you were ready.

He was trying to be a good friend, even if he wanted to be more than that. It had took him a while to figure out his feelings, so he had resolved to give you as much time as you needed. Yes, Satoru was convinced he could wait patiently, but…

Is he leaning forward?

At times… His resolve weakened.

“[name]…”

The look he was giving you was that of a kid who wanted to ask for something but did not know how. In his clear eyes, there was need but also fear of being denied.

What is your answer? his eyes were asking.

The winter had also frozen time in your friendship, in this safe spot in Satoru’s place, where you could still be friends and pretend nothing needed to change as it never changed in the years before, not in his apartment nor in your friendship. But time must go on, does it not?

“Satoru...”

His phone rang.

Both of you looked at the phone that was screen-down on the coffee table in front of you, and it seemed to take Satoru a couple of seconds to decide if he wanted to pick it up, but he finally did.

“I’ll be right back.” You got up and went to the kitchen.

Giving him some privacy to take the call was an excuse; part of you just wanted to escape of it all, ask Satoru to take it back, let everything remain as it was, stay in the known, but the other part, the part that had been falling for him all this time wanted to see it through.

Are you in love with him?

For a second, you were back in your living room with Haruki, his question and your answer resonating in your head as you watched the cup of tea travel steady from the table to his lips.

“Some people think knowledge that doesn’t change behavior is worthless,” his eyes did not meet yours, and you did not reply immediately.

“If you knew he liked you, would you act on it?” He had almost finished his cup.

"I don't know," you replied.

Months ago, you had been convinced you wanted to act on your feelings, but now, the idea of change was scary, the idea of trying to later find out it was not what you wanted, was scarier; the idea that you and Satoru would never recover if that happened, was terrifying.

“To change something, you first need to accept the possibility of change, and of course you need to know that those possibilities exist. I guess in that way, that knowledge is not worthless, even if nothing actually comes out of it. We should accept the possibilities.”

His feelings were sudden but if there is a possibility...

“Okay, I can accept that,” you said lowly to yourself.

“You can accept what?” Satoru was looking at you and taking the sodas you had just mindlessly pulled from the fridge from your hands.

The room felt a few degrees warmer with his proximity.

“Nothing, I was just...” Your gaze drifted to the door leading to a small terrace where Satoru had installed a couple chairs to sit on when the weather was nice. He almost never did it though, and you could use some fresh air. “Do you want to go outside?”

A smile played on Satoru’s lips. “Isn’t it cold?”

“Just for a bit.”

That was how you and him needed up outside looking at the city lights. You looked up but it was impossible to see the stars. Satoru mirrored your gesture and then directed his gaze back to the city.

“Do you ever regret it?” he asked.

“Regret what?”

He shrugged. “Staying here, doing what we do, not going somewhere quieter or… somewhere where you could see the stars.” He looked up again and you kept your gaze on him.

Why was he asking that now you did not know, but you answered him honestly.

“I do not regret it.” It was true. Even when you did have the opportunity to do something else or be somewhere else, you chose not to leave. “This is pretty too.”

The lights of a city that never seem to sleep were probably not as fascinating and mystical as the stars that burned millions of light years away, but they had some beauty of their own.

“I guess so,” Satoru agreed, and he wrapped an arm around you, and after some silence he spoke again.

“Aren't you cold?”

You nodded your head. “But can we stay here a little longer?”

And maybe what you really wanted to ask was can we stay like this a little longer?

In any case, Satoru would have given you the same response as he held you tighter.

“Of course.”

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

Note: I'll try to proofread... Oh, and sorry about basically disappearing. Thank you a bunch for the kind messages during my silence. <3

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part XIX

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh @stellasloth @bloopsstuff @cheesemachine44 @tetsuski

#gojo satoru #jjk #gojo x you #jjk fanfic #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x reader #pay it no mind

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year

Text

Oh Wow

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake sees you for the first time and his life is never the same again.

Warnings: Allusion to smut, kinda (not w/reader). Cursing. Mention of alcohol.

Notes: Flashback part of the Oh, Baby Universe, but can definitely be read alone.

Words: 1900

Jake watched you through the mass of people. Every move you made. The shape of your lips as you spoke to other patrons. The uncertainty in your choices as you attempted to fill orders. He’d never seen you before, but wherever you came from, you sure as hell weren’t a bartender. You clearly had little idea of what you were doing, but the smile on your face hiding the hint of nerves was charming enough to distract anyone. Whether approaching you for alcohol or a moment of your attention, people suddenly found themselves incredibly patient. He noticed you adding a bit too much whiskey to an Old Fashioned that made the man asking for it nearly choke, and so much syrup to a cocktail that the drinker would undoubtedly get a sugar rush, but the receivers of both grinned through the mistakes, winked at you, and eventually came back for more.

You were something else; that was undeniable. And whatever power you had over everyone extended to Jake the moment he laid eyes on you. It floated over and wrapped itself around him in a neatly tied little bow that he had zero intention of undoing. It kept him tethered to his spot, allowing him to have a clear view of you and forcing him to leave his friends in the back of his mind. They gave him questioning looks, but he didn’t care. He’d never before yearned and craved as instantly as he did when he saw you.

"This is the first time I've ever witnessed you giving all of your attention to a woman who hasn't even bothered to notice you yet,” Rooster said, coming up beside him. "It's interesting. Refreshing.” He took a sip of his beer, obnoxiously smacking his lips as he savored the amber liquid. "A nice change of pace, you know?"

Teasing was inevitable. As the night carried on Jake had heard his teammates’ snickers gather in frequency—something he wasn’t known for letting them get away with, especially after such an exhausting workday, but his sour mood flipped after stepping into the bar and he easily let it all go.

Rooster kept speaking, but Jake only found it to be an irritating buzz in his ear that was unsuccessful in getting him to tear his gaze away from the woman before him. "Do you know much about her?"

Rooster playfully scoffed at the interruption. "She's only been working here a few nights. Penny hired her last week,” he informed Jake. "She's new in town. Real sweet thing."

You suddenly laughed, head thrown back in unrestrained joy, and Jake swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly in his throat. His peripherals saw Rooster’s head make a quick turn as if he knew how that melodic sound would affect him. How it would impact his pulse, the blood rushing through his veins, adding a pink tinge to his cheeks.

The other pilot blew out a breath. “Well shit, man. Did you already pick out your future kids' names?"

"Shut up."

"China patterns?"

"Leave me alone."

Rooster’s lips pressed together in a hum. He didn’t show any indication of doing as Jake demanded, so Jake figured he’d use him as long as he might still be useful.

“What’s her name?” Jake asked. He hadn't realized how badly he needed your name; how desperate he was for it. Might have begged for it if Rooster wouldn’t give it over.

“You’ve got children and a china pattern and you don’t even know her name? A bit backwards, don’t you think?”

Jake finally tore his eyes away from you just to shoot Rooster the glare he deserved. “I’m never saving your life again.”

“Well, if that’s going to be your attitude then you can just ask her yourself.” He raised a dark brow in challenge. Rooster knew, just as Jake did, that he’d never looked at a woman the way he looked at you. That changed the game. Caused his confidence to stutter.

But he managed to calmly, evenly say, "Fine. I will.”

And he would…eventually.

—-

Approaching you wasn’t one of the simpler tasks Jake had faced in his life but he mustered the will nonetheless, taking step after step until he was directly in front of you. Only two feet of cherry wood bartop kept you out of arms reach, and goddamn, did he wish it wasn't there so he could reach out, touch you, feel you.

It had grown late without him noticing. The crowd had died down and you immediately took note of him, looking up to meet his stunned stare. If he thought you were beautiful from afar, up close…up close you were otherworldly, and Jake was thankful he hadn’t attempted to speak because there was no way he would have been able to keep from choking on his first word.

“Hi,” you said, smiling wide, your eyes bright. His heart clenched. “What can I get you?”

“Uh…” Right. He was supposed to want something. Well, he did want something, but not to drink. “Just a beer. Please.”

He hadn’t realized your shoulders were so tense, high up to your ears until they relaxed. Your chest deflated. “Oh, thank god.”

“Long night?”

"You could say so." You reached below the bar to grab a glass, asked him his preference, and began to fill it before continuing. “Don’t tell anyone,” you said, “but I’m not very good at this.”

The honesty was wildly endearing. He couldn’t help but grin and shake his head as the apparent ease of speaking with you settled a blanket of comfort over him. Leaning forward and resting his forearms across the bar, he said, “Nah, don’t worry Honey, you’re doing fine.”

You placed the glass in front of him, curiosity swirling in your gaze. “You’ve been watching me?”

Then Jake’s spine immediately straightened like someone had shoved a wooden board up the back of his shirt. The nerves he thought he’d freed made themselves known once again. He cleared his throat to buy time in searching for an excuse to have been staring at you all night, but you saved him from having to find one.

“I’m just teasing,” you chuckled. “And don’t worry about your future drinks. I plan to do a lot of practicing, so I’ll be a pro in no time. I promise.”

Jake released his held breath. Fuck, he liked you. He liked you and it took next to nothing to have him falling into an emotional well he wouldn’t so simply climb his way out of.

He extended his hand your way. “I’m Jake,” he started, “Seresin.”

Your palm slid against his. Soft. So damn soft. He held onto you for as long as he could, and you didn’t seem in any hurry to pull away, but eventually you did with a blush spreading over your cheeks. You gave him your name. It was perfect; beautiful. Everything about you was so, so beautiful.

“So you're Jake Seresin,” you said, unraveling the thread of tension. “Well, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

“You know me?”

“Of you,” you confirmed. “I’ve heard a bit from Penny’s nephew and one or two of the other bartenders.”

Jake internally groaned. Rooster and past flings were not where he wanted you gathering your information. Of anyone—anyone—in the state of California to speak on his behalf, they were not likely to do so highly. Rooster was, well…Rooster, and those other bartenders were participants in a past experience that, while a truly unique time, Jake had tried to put far behind him after upsetting them by denying their offer for a repeat performance.

With a sigh, he said, “Whatever they told you, it’s all lies.”

“Is that right?” you asked, crossing your arms. “So you’re not one of the best pilots this country has to offer?”

Alright, that one he didn’t expect. Maybe he’d be buying his friend a few of your signature questionable drinks in the near future.

“And you’re not a good kisser?”

Oh, God. His eyelids pinched briefly. That required more of an explanation. “Um…ok so—” Your fingers pressed to your lips to conceal a giggle and all embarrassment sloughed away from Jake’s body. A grin took its place. You were a damn angel for taking information like that and making light of it to alleviate any discomfort. "I take it back. You’ve been talking to the most honest people you’ll ever come by.”

You laughed again and you really had to stop doing that because it was pulling him apart piece by piece and turning him into a mass of mush on the floor.

“I hope the same can be said for you,” you smirked. “If I ever look bad or something, be sure to let me know.”

“Honey, you’ve never looked bad a day in your life. I guarantee it.”

It was out of his mouth so quickly. The amusement in your eyes fell to something deeper as the curve of your lips settled into a gentle part, a perfect space slightly separating them; enough for his tongue to slip between if he ever had the chance to kiss you. Eyes connected, boring into one another and once again surfacing that lovely tension.

He could stay there for ages if he wasn’t so concerned with what was passing through your mind. But he’d never know, because with a few rapid flutters of your eyelids and a sift of your fingers through your hair, that tension—those tight threads weaving throughout his stomach and chest—snapped.

Your tongue darted out to dampen your lips. “Let me ask you something, Jake Seresin.”

“Anything.”

You leaned over the bar a bit and he did the same; drawn forward by your magnetic pull.

Looking away from him, you swallowed as if weighing the words you planned to give him. Then your eyes flitted up to his. “Do you come here as often as your teammates?”

Whatever you had debated speaking aloud no longer mattered because what came out of those pillowy lips was so much better than anything he had mentally prepared himself for. Let me ask you something, Jake Seresin…are you normally this forward? This aggressive? This cocky that you could pathetically flirt with a woman like me? But no, you were asking him what he did, how he spent his time, maybe, just maybe, hoping he’d spend more of it in your presence.

“Would you like me to come here often?” he asked. No playfulness behind the question, but a genuine need to hear your agreement. Just an inkling that you wanted him around as much as he wanted to be around you.

“I would.” You gave a nod. “If I’m honest, Jake, I'd like to have someone—a friend.”

A friend. A friend he could be. I’d be anything for you, he found himself thinking before he could absorb how needy that made him sound. But he was needy. He wanted more. He’d always want more. The little you’d given him since he approached you was like tossing crumbs to a starving man.

“Then, Honey,” Jake said, his lips peeled back in a broad grin, “you’ve got yourself a friend.”

And one day, maybe it would be more.

----

tags: @wkndwlff @genius2050 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life

A/N: Turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing :) Or Tag List here

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #top gun hangman #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x female!reader #top gun jake seresin

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just-wrting · 1 year

Text

Perhaps a Little Jealous

Title: Perhaps a Little Jealous

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Read

Summary: After gifting Hotch a new sweater, you use it to your advantage to keep other women away. Unfortunately, this doesn’t go unnoticed.

Word Count: 1817

Master List

A/N: My first actual post in forever and it’s not Supernatural. I think having to keep this blog Supernatural related got to me and I just kinda neglected it. I think opening up requests for a multitude of fandoms will help my creativity! Anyway, enjoy some of my current obsession: Criminal Minds’ Aaron Hotchner!

Part 2

Knocking on Hotch’s office door, you smooth out your shirt. Granted, you didn’t have to give Hotch a gift, but you feel obligated to give him something. He had prevented you from getting injured, or worse killed. So in an effort to say thanks, you had gotten him a gift.

“Yes?”

Hotch’s office door swings open and you look at him sheepishly. “I wanted to give you a gift. To say thanks for saving me on the last case. Can I come in?”

Hotch steps aside to let you in. You make your way over to his desk and stand next to the guest chair. You can’t bear to face him due to your face being so red. You know why you are nervous. You just don’t want to admit it.

“You got me a gift? For doing my job?” Hotch makes his way to his desk. “I don’t think this is necessary.”

You glance up to look into his eyes before looking away. You had magically found an excuse to give him a gift, but you are scared to tell him the real reason. You are giving him a gift cause it was a way that you showed you loved someone. Well in this case have feelings for.

“I think it's just a nice thing to do.” You are quick to answer. “You’ve done so much for me since I started at the BAU and not to mention you did save me on the last case.”

Hotch looks like he might ask more, but he graciously holds his hand out for the gift instead. “(Y/N), you’re a member of the team. I was just doing what I would do for any of the others.”

Your heart sinks a little. Of course, Hotch would say something like that. At the end of the day, he is your boss. Hotch is someone you should never have developed feelings for. Yet here you are. Standing in his office, handing him a gift, and almost hoping that he would read into and figure you out.

“Still. It’s just something I like to do for people I care about or like. Like I gave Garcia some coupons I had found for a brand that matches her style.”

You watch as Hotch pulls the ribbon off of the gift. You are nervous. Your heart is pounding. If Hotch took one good look at you, you know that he would be able to pick you apart and say the words you were thinking.

“Coupons and a gift you went out and bought are two different things, (Y/N). Besides, this,” he pulls the sweater out of the box, “looks like it cost you more than some coupons.”

“Hotch, if it bothers you, I can take it back. I just thought that having something comfortable while on a case or that you can use to stay warm in the hotels would be nice. I’m sure I got your size right, but if I didn’t there is a gift receipt in the box.”

Hotch checks the tag and shakes out the sweater. You know it was his style, the quarter-zip, and his color, a wine red. You are almost one hundred percent sure that you had gotten his size, a large, though you’re sure that even if it isn’t the right size he’d still look good. The only thing you didn’t know was whether or not he would like it.

“This is,” Hotch pauses while feeling the material, “very soft. Where did you get this? Actually, if you don’t mind me asking, how much was it?” You give him a smile as someone knocks on the door. “Looks like J.J. was right. There’s always a new case almost right after the last.”

—

It’s the morning of the third day on this case and weirdly enough, you are starving. Normally you get up too late to actually grab breakfast or anything, but today you woke up right as the hotel started putting breakfast out.

Hotch had told you all to make sure you got enough rest last night and to be one hundred percent ready to tackle the case this morning. This meant that you were allowed to get almost eight hours of sleep, closer to seven but who was really counting, and you were allowed to have more than a cup of coffee and a stale muffin for breakfast.

Not only are you right on time, but you also are surprised to see Hotch standing in line for the coffee maker. The new quarter-zip looks very nice on him and you realize that you weren’t the only one who noticed. A pair of women sit at the window, eyeing him from over their teas.

“Hotch!” You speed up your steps. “You should've had me grab you breakfast.”

You step as close as you think you can without getting in his way. The zipper of his sweater going at a diagonal angle makes you want to laugh. Knowing how motivated he is to finish cases, you figure he probably stayed up late and slept in it.

“Your thing, uh zipper, it’s crooked. Here let me fix it for you. Did you end up sleeping in this?”

Your hand grasps the collar of the sweater and gently adjusts it. Smoothing out the fabric, you give Hotch a soft smile. You like that he was wearing the sweater you got him. You didn’t like the fact that other women seem like they wanted to flirt with him.

“You can tell that I didn’t follow my own orders, can’t you?” Hotch asks as he puts a lid on his coffee.

You giggle. “Oh yes. Though if you were up all night looking at the files maybe you magically found something new.”

He hands you your own coffee and walks you toward the ever-wonderful selection of the hotel buffet. “I did see a few things. They could mean nothing, but without a second opinion, I’m unsure. Do you mind if I join you for breakfast and share them?”

You stand there in shock. Is he asking you to have breakfast with him? Not just the whole team? Could it actually just be so he could tell you to not invade his personal space again?

“Uh yeah! My room is super close, J.J. got me the room closest to the front door so that way when I’m running late I’m faster. Is that fine?”

He gives you a quick nod before grabbing some toast. Thankfully he doesn’t leave your side, or make any comments, as you load up your plate. He doesn’t even complain when you toss both a yogurt and a muffin on his plate.

The two of you are silent as you walk what was probably only a minute to your room, but feels like ages to you. You are nervous, not only are you still in pajamas, not even like the ones on television you are wearing the silly cat meme shirt, but you are going to have Aaron Hotchner in your hotel room.

“Sorry about the mess. The only person who usually comes in, well besides the staff, is Emily or J.J. Sometimes Morgan if he thinks I need further teasing. If I’m not treating it like it’s my room I just can’t think right.”

Hotch makes no comment. He instead opts to pull the chair from the desk and offer it to you. You shake your head and pull out the stool. “Actually, I’ll let the boss sit in the fancy chair. I can use the footrest as a seat.”

Hotch lets out a chuckle as he sits down. “The probably cheap office chair is fancy to you?”

You lower the chunk of waffle from your face. “As fancy as a cheap office chair can be. What did you notice?”

Hotch folds his hands on the table. “You paused after saying my name in the lobby. Almost as if you regretted it or noticed something else. When you came up to me you stood closer than you usually did and took your time making sure I was presentable.”

Swallowing hard, you look into his eyes. “Oh. Is this what you meant by opinions to share?”

You think you see a smile on his face as he continues, “You made sure that you put extra food on my plate like you were looking out for me. All of this would leave an impression on others that we’re close. And given the fact that hotels are usually couples or families on vacation this impression would be that we are together.”

You rub your arm and look away. Who said he could look so handsome while profiling your feelings? Just cause he was good at his job doesn’t mean you wanted to be the target.

“You saw the same women sitting near the window that I did, didn’t you? What made you give them the wrong impression?”

You know if you looked at him you’d give everything away even if you lied. “There’s no need for women to be taking up your time. We are on a case. Just because you won’t entertain them, doesn’t mean they won't waste time.”

“You’re very easy to read. When you feel like you can’t control your emotions, you look away. So I know that you’re hiding something or you’re lying to me.”

You know your face is red. You can’t do anything about that. Instead, you turn and face Hotch.

“The team can’t have women taking up time that could be spent working the case.”

Hotch’s smile wavers. “I know you’re lying to me. If that was truly the reason, your face wouldn’t be so flushed. Would you like to know what I think?”

You lick your lips and nod. “If you think you can read me that well then go ahead Hotch. Surprise me.”

This time he leans in. You would worry about the food and coffee spilling but you can’t focus that well with Hotch’s face only a foot away from yours.

“I think that you saw those women watching me and got jealous. Perhaps you got just a little bit,” he pauses and you know the word he’s thinking of, “possessive? You wanted to scare them off and make them think I was taken.”

“What would you do if that was the reason?” You hold your breath. “Would you tell me off?”

Glancing at the clock behind you, Hotch gives a smile. He stands up and leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Perhaps after the case is over we can go and get breakfast. Someplace that isn’t your hotel room. Let me know if that works for you, (Y/N).”

With that, Hotch leaves your room. You’re a flustered mess due to his teasing. You never even knew that Hotch could tease. Your ear still feels warm from where he whispered and you do your best to calm down.

#criminal minds #criminal minds aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch #criminal minds aaron hotch #aaron hotch fluff #im back baby #reader insert #criminal minds x reader

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kitthepurplepotato · 11 months

Text

MWRMI PART 4

My Weird Roommate, Midoriya Izuku

Week 2 - Garden Shenanigans! 🪴

~•🥦•~

Summary: Midoriya has a shopping problem. He also has a hard time understanding the difference between a friendly banter and flirting when he’s in a good mood. Y/N realizes her favorite person in the world isn’t pro hero Deku anymore.

Warnings: swear words, mentions of alcohol (they have one cider)

First Part Masterlist

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Shopping With Midoriya is… an adventure.

The sun is barely up when he decides that you had enough sleep for the day and barges into your room, uninvited. There is a burnt smell coming from somewhere, but right now, all you care about is the fact that pro hero Deku just invited himself into your room and you probably look like shit after sleeping less than 4 hours the night before.

“Y/N, they open in an hour, I made breakfast, come and eat!”

… so that’s what the smell is.

You lazily open your eyes to take a look at your new roomie; with a frown on your face you realize he looks absolutely stunning even with the lack of sleep. He’s wearing a tank top and dark green shorts, his arms are full of new and old injuries but instead of them being unattractive they kinda make the guy look really… well… sexy. And manly. Ahh, it’s way too early for all this sexual frustration.

“It’s already way too hot outside, stop making it worse with your existence.” You mumble to yourself, absolutely sure the guy won’t understand your mumbling anyway. For your surprise, Midoriya freezes in one place and his face gets as red as a tomato in only a few seconds.

“Y/N! You can’t say things like that to me!” Deku is about to combust from the embarrassment and while you know you should be ashamed of yourself for being heard, after yesterday’s mess up you can’t even bother anymore. You already fucked up enough for Midoriya to never look at you in a romantic way anyway so you might as well just be honest and be yourself at this point.

“Midoriya, you can’t barge into a lady’s bedroom either!” You parrot the green haired hero, who gets even redder (if that’s even possible) and moves towards your door while mumbling apologies on his way out. You giggle to yourself and put on a bit more clothing; it’s really hot outside so your sleepwear is quite light and you are not sure if you have the confidence to show yourself in your sleepwear to the greenette yet. This whole roomie thing with your favorite hero is still a bit too much for you; you definitely feel less awkward about it since yesterday, but still, you want to give yourself some time to adjust, one step at a time.

You put on a grey tank top with capri trousers and make your way to the bathroom to wash your teeth; there is no way you are going to have breakfast with Midoriya while smelling like death in the mouth.

“Y\N, this is not a fucking date, you moron” your mind screams, but you blissfully ignore it.

~•🥦•~

“Midoriya, with full respect, this is an abomination.” You stare at the dark brown, unidentifiable thing on your plate. By the broken egg shells in the bin, this THING needs to be a really poorly made/burnt scrambled egg with rice? Also, the ketchup on the top makes it look like it’s a murder scene. Midoriya looks at you with tears in his eyes; he looks like a little child who tried to do something nice for his mother but ended up burning the house down by accident. “I will gladly eat this abomination.” You mumble, physically incapable to look into his pretty puppy eyes any more.

“You don’t need to…” The boy sounds heartbroken, his voice trembling and fuck, you would do anything to make him smile again. Anything.

“I do, Midoriya. You made this for me. You poured your heart and soul into this…” you stop for a second to investigate the substance in front of you but Midoriya is nice enough to help your out. What a nice chap.

“Egg fried rice”

“…Into this egg fried rice, and it is my responsibility to at least give it a try.” You finish your sentence with a big sigh and try a small amount; it’s gooey and sticky and absolutely atrocious, but it’s still edible. Disgusting… but edible.

The green haired man smiles while you struggle to swallow; (that’s what she said… - Kit) but fuck if it wasn’t worth it. Thankfully, Midoriya has just enough self-preservation to bin the rest of the food with a promise to eat something at the garden center instead and pushes you out of the door as soon as the “food” is safely disposed.

~•🥦•~

There are a lot of headcanons on Tumblr about Midoriya in general and there is also a debate about his possessions; does he own a car? What car does a hero like Deku drive? Is he the fancy type or the “got this from my mom when I was 18” kinda gal? Or maybe he prefers motorcycles? Bicycles? Skateboards?

Well… you get your answer when Deku leads you to the underground garage and points to the flashiest car in the car park.

“So, this is my baby.” Midoriya points at the massive sports car. It’s metallic dark green with orange and black details; the interior is a tan color which makes the interior stand out even from the distance. It’s the most elegant and most badass sports car you’ve ever seen in your life. “It’s a McLaren 570GT. To be honest with you, I just wanted a Prius, but Kacchan said I should get a ‘fancy ass car to hide my boring, stupid personality’ and forced me to buy this baby.” You are almost hundred percent sure that this translates to ‘you deserve a better fucking car’ in Dynamight language. “It’s not too useful for shopping or driving around with friends which is a shame, but Shouto-Kun has a mini-bus, so… what’s so funny?”

You don’t even realize you are laughing until the greenette points it out.

“I was just thinking about Pro Hero Shouto driving around in a mini bus and picking you guys up one by one, making sure the whole class is present before driving off to school.”

“He even has an attendance sheet.” The hero winks at you like it’s a big secret; well, it probably is; and you can’t help the blush spreading on your cheeks. “I’ll ask him to add you to the list the next time we go camping! Just make sure you don’t drink anything Denki gives you. The last time we went camping, Denki made Kacchan so drunk he almost burnt the forest down while sneezing.”

You can’t believe these guys. In your mind, these people were beyond everyone, perfect, flawless and majestic, but here they are, playing school camping on their day offs while getting shit drunk, like normal people. By the end of the day, heroes are only humans. You can’t wait to meet these people in real life, they sound so much fun to be around.

“So Dynamight loses control over his quirk when he drinks?”

“Don’t get me started on quirk analysis, I’ll never shut up.” Midoriya giggles, clearly struggling not to give you a whole presentation on the topic.

“You never shut up anyway.” You tease, but by the blush on his face, he didn’t really take that as a joke. “I like it.” You add sheepishly, your own face also decorated with the same shade of red. “Please, never change, Midoriya.”

The hero looks at you the same way he did yesterday; like this is the first time someone has told him to be himself. His eyes are wet, but they shine with gratitude written all over them.

“I wish we’ve met in different circumstances, Y/N.” He sighs and opens the door for you. You look at him with a questioning look. “It’s nothing. Let’s go, roomie.” He gives you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and moves along to the other side; you sink into the fine, comfortable leather seat with a content sigh.

When Midoriya jumps in and starts the car none of you speaks up; the sound of the engine is so calming you almost fall asleep from the beautiful sound of it.

~•🥦•~

Midoriya takes this shopping really seriously; he’s crouching down in front of a bunch of seed packets and googles them one by one to make sure they are suitable for his garden. He’s wearing a baseball hat and sunglasses to hide his identity, but thankfully, the garden center is almost empty anyway on this lovely Tuesday morning.

“So, what kind of tomatoes do we want? Fiorentino, gold nugget, marmande, rugby; well that’s a funny one; sun gold or super mama?

We. You and him. Oh fudge, this is too much for your little heart.

“Well, get a nice big one and a small one for the salads?” You mumble with a blush on your face, but he doesn’t even listen to you; he jumps into your sentence without hesitation.

“Look, I found the perfect seed for you!” Midoriya gives you the packet to check it out; it’s a sweet pea. Your face becomes as red as the tomatoes on the pictures.

“Midoriya! Behave!” You ramble, and give him another seed packet. “There you go, this is you.”

“A teasel?” He looks at you with a confused face.

“Yes. Because you’re teasing me. Get it?” You can’t help but grin as Midoriya’s face contorts into a frown from the bad pun.

Without a single retort, he puts the two packets of seeds into his shopping trolley. “Aww, you’ll buy them? You are so sentimental! So kawaii! Please tell me you want them to have their own special place in the garden as well!”

The green boy blushes and moves towards the flower section. “And then what.” Midoriya mumbles and fuck… you love this guy so much already.

“Izuuuuuu!!!! You are so sweet!” Without a single thought in your silly little head, you jump on the hero’s back. He stiffens for a second but catches your thighs to keep you up, giving you a piggy back ride.

“Awww, what a sweet couple!” The cashier mumbles to her colleague and that’s the exact moment you realize how stupid of an idea this was.

“I’m sorry, Midoriya, you can put me down now.” You mumble apologetically.

“No, this is fun.” The greenette looks back at you with his puppy eyes; there is no way you can say no when he does that. No fucking way.

~•🥦•~

“Wow, look, they have an All Might themed flower basket! Let’s get five of those!”

“FIVE?!” You deadpan. He’s such a fanboy, honest to fuck. “What about those cute little pink ones there?! I want the pink ones!” You insist; you know it’s not your garden, but the whole renovation was your idea so you definitely want to be a part of it.

“Four All might baskets?” He flutters his eyelashes for great measure. This man will be the death of you.

“Three All Might baskets and 2 pink ones. Look at their names, Midoriya! Pink kisses! Flutter burst! Purple wedding! We need these as good omens, otherwise we will be single forever!” … Not like you actually care but it sounds like a great way to make it sound like you don’t have a big fat crush on your adorable flatmate.

“I don’t mind being single. I have you. That’s more than enough for me.” You definitely did not expect this comeback. That was a low blow.

What are you supposed to say?! ‘Marry me then?!’

“… I’m getting them anyway.” You mumble with a red face, avoiding eye contact with the greenette.

“Please do. They are cute. Like you.”

… this needs to stop. He’s only joking but your little fragile heart wants to take everything seriously. You can hear the wedding bells in the background. It’s getting harder and harder to put your Deku fanatism aside and concentrate on the guy in front of you as a separate person, or to be more exact, it’s getting harder not to love this guy the same way you love your favorite pro hero if not more. This is Midoriya Izuku, everyone, a walking green flag who can’t even have a flaw without being adorable.

“Honest to fuck Midoriya, stop flirting with me.” You reprimand, but it rather sounds like ‘please, praise me more.’ Oh well, you tried.

“Oh… sorry, I didn’t realize this is what flirting is like. Maybe this is why the ladies get mad when I turn them down…” Midoriya stares into the nothingness, deep in thoughts. Ah, that explains it.

“You heartbreaker!” You giggle, poking his shoulders in a friendly way. You can do this. You can be friendly. There is no reason to make this weird.

“I am, apparently. Sue me.”

“I would never sue someone with such a pretty face.” You coo at the greenette, topping your words with a kissy face. You can play that game too, okay?!

“You are such a hypocrite, Y/N!” Deku grins with a slight blush on his face and everything goes back to normal; or as normal as it can be considering you are on a not-a-date with your favorite hero of all time, buying garden supplies like a 60 years old married couple.

Being with Midoriya is confusing, but it’s so much fun; you’ve never been this happy in your whole life and it has nothing to do with him being your favorite hero. You can only hope he’ll find someone who likes him the way you do; because Midoriya Izuku is just as perfect as a human being as he is as a hero.

~•🥦•~

The two trollies are full of random plants and bushes by the time you get to the furniture isle; there is a citrus tree, a cranberry, strawberry and blackberry bush and a small acer tree next to all the flowers you two have chosen a few minutes prior. He also managed to find some all Might merch hidden in a gift shop; they are fake and cheap but apparently, the nerd needs them all; Midoriya definitely has a massive shopping problem.

“I really want that.” Midoriya points at the biggest firepit in the building. You can’t help, but sigh. This is the fifteenth random thing the greenette wants to take home for no reason. You don’t have enough energy to do this again.

“Midoriya… we already have a massive sofa set, the most expensive one at that I might add, four folding egg chairs, five lounge chairs, ten foldable chairs, the biggest available grill and a parasol. There is no more space in that poor garden.” You deadpan.

Does he care? Nah.

“Well, the foldable chairs are useless without something to sit around, ain’t they?” Midoriya’s eyes are chaotic; he somehow managed to get to a point when the insanity is clearly written all over his face. He’s also hyperventilating a little bit. A few more minutes and he’s going to drool all over the floor. Shopaholic Midoriya is scary.

“Alright.” You give in. “But you’re buying us another hot dog, because I won’t have time to cook today.”

“Deal.”

… this will be a long day.

~•🥦•~

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Well.

Okay, listen.

Having Midoriya fiddling with the tank top he changed into and staring at you with puppy eyes while the garden looks like a war zone is one thing but the above mentioned tank top doesn’t have sides… like at all. This means, you can see everything. Everything. His pectoral muscles are on another level, they are so plump and perfect they actually look fake. You can’t even comment on the rest of his body without sounding like a thirsty fangirl. This should be illegal. This guy is a fucking dream. Damn, you really want to touch the skin under that tank top.

You swallow your NOT so innocent thoughts and look up at the hero.

Keep your eyes on his face, Y/N. You can do this.

Ahh, that’s a nipple.

Fuck.

“Uhm, let’s try to assemble all of these first then move on to the plants. I think it looks worse than it is.”

Well done, Y/N. You managed to sound coherent.

Midoriya looks heartbroken by your words, even though you didn’t mean any harm with them.

“I said I’m sorry.” He repeats, his eyes scanning the grass like he’s looking for something there. You can’t help but touch his side to comfort him; what you did not expect is your hands touching his naked skin. How stupid can you be? You literally just had a full conversation with yourself about his perfect, almost naked upper body.

Fudge, his skin is so soft, what the actual fuck. You definitely need to borrow his moisturizer and MOVE YOUR FUCKING GRABBY HANDS AWAY. LIKE NOW.

“I heard you, but there is no need for you to feel like that, you know. You are an adult and this is your garden and your money. Thank you for buying me those flowers. I can’t wait to see them from the window every morning.” You smile at the tall, bulky man next to you.

After 10 seconds of emotional staring you move away with a shy giggle; this is too much for your little heart.

“Thank you.” He says and you look back at him; Midoriya’s smile is so honest and so full of affection you can’t help the blush spreading on your cheeks from all the fluttery feelings boiling inside you.

“Shut up...”

~•🥦•~

It just around 9 PM when Midoriya and you finish with the garden shenanigans. You are both exhausted and sticky from the sweat but that doesn’t stop you from having a cider on the brand new sofa set while the sun goes down in the background. Midoriya’s fluffy head ends up on your shoulders, hist chest moving up and down with his calm, steady breaths. This should be uncomfortable for so many reasons, but if just feels right; there is this weird feeling that pulls you towards the green haired nerd, this new emotion lurking in your heart. It’s confusing but so, so nice; warm and cozy like a hot chocolate on a grumpy cold winter night.

By the end of the day, Midoriya and Deku became two different people in your eyes and funnily enough, the one cuddled close to you takes over Deku’s Number One place in a flawless victory.

“I really like this.” The green haired man speaks up, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Being able to hold someone so close even though you both smell like shit?” You look at the greenette questioningly.

“Yes, Y/N. I like the fact that I trust you enough already to be at my worst around you without feeling terrible about it.” Midoriya strikes back with a new kind of sass. “I also like the fact that YOU also smell like ‘shit’ but I still feel the urge to stay close to you and It’s really fucking nice but now you ruined my emotional roomie-love confession.” He pouts, clearly offended; he’s so fucking adorable you want to cry.

“You know what?” You speak up in the same offended tone. “If we are having a honest moment here, I would like to add that from today, pro Hero Deku isn’t my ultimate favorite person in the world.” Midoriya actually takes offense at that and moves away but you continue your rambling. “It’s cuz’ of that stupid little sticky nerd I spent the day with. You know, the one who comes home all bloody and grimy sometimes but takes his time to comment on my latest drawings anyway. The one who let me have my shitty pink flowers in his perfect All Might themed garden, even though they stick out like a sore thumb. I only knew this guy for a few days, yet here I am, all sappy and emotional, goddamnit.”

You kind of lost your confidence by the end of the sentence but as you look up at the teary eyed greenette, you know he’d understood.

“Let’s stay like this forever.” Midoriya clinks your glasses together, the air filled with electricity from all the unsaid words swirling around the both of you.

“Forever.” You smile, and this time, you are the one who breaks down the wall and snuggles close.

One day, you will get used to this. But for now, you just enjoy as the loud beats of your heart slowly lull you to sleep on the new sofa as the warm summer breeze soothingly caresses your face on this lovely Tuesday evening.

~•🥦•~ (extra)

You end up talking about random stuff until 11 PM; you only had one cider so you can’t even blame it on the alcohol, but at one point the conversation stops and you are both just staring at each other, taking all the small details in. You cheekily take another look at your flatmate’s lovely chest while taking a big sip of your beverage, and that’s when Midoriya decides to break the silence.

“You know, Kacchan told me I should get a nipple piercing.”

Needless to say, you choke on your drink and spit it all out; right at the poor guy’s above mentioned, perfect chest.

“You can’t fucking say shit like that without giving me a heads up!” You cough as Midoriya tries to clean himself up.

“Well, you were looking at them and I got embarrassed and blurted it out and now I’m also freaking out, because it was such a creepy thing to say, I’m so sorry!” He rambles, not even taking a single breath in between the words.

“Sorry for looking at your nipples!” You blurt out with a red face. “I completely zoned out! I think I should head to bed. Please, forget about this, I can’t believe we can’t have one day without me embarrassing myself in front of you!” You end up complaining.

“Hey, I really love when you say silly things like that. Please, never change, Y/N.” The hero winks, throwing your own words back at you.

You’ll never get used to this. Never.

… Next Part!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 🥦

Random fun facts and rambling:

- Midoriya’s car exists and it’s absolutely stunning, look!

- All the plant names are real, I actually went to a garden center for this chapter! 😂

- Midoriya’s shopping problem was based on myself. Needless to say, my whole flat is a jungle at this point.

- This series will be really fucking long so I hope you don’t mind that. Every time I write a chapter I come up with three more chapter ideas. It’s killing me. I also can’t stop writing it hence why I have another chapter almost ready by the time I’m uploading this.

- The next chapter will be called “Reality Check”. Does it sound ominous enough? *evil laugh*

Taglist: @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x you #pro hero deku #deku x reader #deku x you #deku x y/n #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #midoriya izuku

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

Text

Death by a Thousand Cuts

Request from anon: Spencer x daughter!reader (like 19/20) after the JJ confession she like storms into the BAU to confront her and basically is really mad that she told him that whilst married

“He told me, about the date. I was too young but I just remember him crying.”

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to choose when he matters to you and when he doesn’t. You don’t get to tell him something like that knowing you have a family and he only has me. It was a shitty thing to do. You’re so f****** selfish”

Sorry I went off I just hate that scene it was so pointless hahha

But I need some protective daughter!!!!

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Summary: After you hear about JJ's feelings towards your dad, you tell her the truth about how you feel about her too... and it's not friendly.

A/N: This is basically just the reader yelling… I’ll let you guys imagine how the conversation afterwards might go (this will not have a part 2). I changed the dialogue a bit to have it make more sense but kept it the same for the most part. This is also unintentionally Taylor Swift inspired. The lyric just fit so I put it in.

CW: Spoilers for S15, swearing, reader is kinda really mean to JJ (it's understandable thought)

---

Trying to find a part of me you didn't take up Gave you too much but it wasn't enough But I'll be all right, it's just a thousand cuts -Taylor Swift, Death by a Thousand Cuts

---

It was a conversation that you were sure you weren’t supposed to hear… honestly, it was a conversation that your Aunt Penny wasn’t supposed to hear either. You were on your weekly phone call with her when she told you about it… what JJ had said to your dad. Well, she didn’t exactly tell you as much as you could tell something was off and then you pressed until she spilled.

At first you had kept your composure- simply saying goodbye to Penny. You’d driven peacefully from your college campus to the BAU. You were pleasant while going through the security check. It wasn’t until the elevator indicated you’d reached the sixth floor of the building that your vision went red, anger burning inside you like a fire that was burning at the edge of its confinement, blood boiling in your ears.

You stepped out of the elevator and went straight through the glass doors, not even bothering to say hello to Agent Anderson as you passed him in the hall. The team was in the bullpen, all at their prospective desks, calmly working on files when you marched your storm of anger right through the office.

“You bitch!” Your voice was filled with fury as you seemingly hurdled yourself towards JJ’s desk. “You selfish little-”

Luke grabbed you hard before you could swing your fists in the direction of the blonde woman you once would have trusted with your life. You strained against the man holding you. The sounds of voices filled the bullpen and agents were getting out of their seats but no one bothered to reach for a side arm. You weren’t a real threat.

But you didn’t need a gun to kill someone.

“(Y/N)-” Your dad’s voice stuck out to you. “What happened?”

You looked at your dad for only a split second before turning your head to meet JJ’s gaze. Both of you knew what happened. You stopped your struggle against Alvez and he loosened his grip, letting you go, but your eyes never left JJ’s.

“If there’s something you need to talk about, you can do it in my office,” Emily offered, but in your feeling of anger you didn’t want help from the woman who faked her death, leaving you and your dad to mourn her only to find out she was alive seven months later.

“How could you?” The fury was beginning to taste bitter with sadness. “How could you do this to my dad? How could you do this to Will and Henry and Micheal-”

JJ cut you off. She was calmer than you, but just as loud. “You don’t get to bring my family into this-”

“Yes I do!” you screamed. “Because I actually give a shit about people! Because for ten years Will took care of me while you guys were out on cases and Henry brought me to show and tell as his older sister when he was in kindergarten and my name was one of Micheal’s first words! So yes- I do get to bring your family into this because I care about them. I care that someone loves them because that’s what they deserve! They don’t deserve to have a wife and a mother who tells another man that she’s always loved him- especially when that man is their godfather! You don’t get to say things like that when you had the chance to do it fifteen years ago!”

JJ’s eyes were filled with tears. Her voice was meek as she spoke. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really?” Your laugh was humorless and dry. “Because I do. I was only four at the time, but he told me about the date. I was too young to understand what was truly going on but I just remember him crying. You had your chance, JJ. You had a choice and you decided against my dad. He’s always cared about you. You could have at least told him that he mattered.”

“Your dad matters to me-”

“No!” you cut her off this time. “You don’t get to do that- you don’t get to choose when he matters to you and when he doesn’t. You don’t get to tell him something like that knowing you have a family and he has me. It was a shitty thing to do. You’re so fucking selfish. You hurt everyone who cares about you and you don’t even see it because you’re too busy making sure everything goes the way you want it to. Fifteen years ago you made a choice and you sure as hell don't get to go back on it and damage everyone around you, especially not my dad.”

The bullpen was silent, the venom in your words lingering in the air. Having said what you needed to, you turned away and walked back towards the glass doors. Before you pushed against them, you stopped and turned to glance back.

The entire team was staring at you, utterly bewildered by the events that had just transpired. The only one who wasn’t looking at you was JJ- her eyes averted from the person who had called her out on all her bullshit, every mistake she had made, every insecurity she had now out and open for everyone to see.

And some malicious part of you was happy she was in pain.

“You know,” your voice was calm now, “my mother was a bitch, but at least she was kind enough to break my dad’s heart and leave. But you, JJ? There isn't a single part of our family- our lives- that you didn't touch. You've taken everything and it's stil not enough for you, so the rest of us have to suffer death by a thousand cuts.”

Without another word you pushed open the doors and left.

#criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

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yesimwriting · 2 years

Text

Final Girl (Part 3)

- Final Girl Series Masterlist (updated part 1 - 9 and extras)

A/n yall have been so kind!! all of the messages, likes, comments, and reblogs for this series have made me so happy! this chapter is a little bit of filler bc my original idea for this part was way too long especially with how busy this week is supposed to be, so i sort of split it!!

also if this has pacing issues, i’m sorry, i had a panic attack yesterday and a really bad migraine today so it’s been kinda rough lately but i wanted to get this out!! Part 4 is going to have a little more going on :)

if this is messy pls don’t give up on me 😭 i promise the next part will have more going on i just didn’t want to leave y’all waiting forever and we needed a bit of a filler

also if anyone wants to leave me an ask about this series pls do:) i’ve had so much fun talking about Final Girl

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.

Chapter Summary: Y/n’s first day back after the incident.

----

My reflection has never bothered me more. I know vanity is such a stupid thing to worry about now after what happened to Casey, but I can’t help the way I scrutinize my appearance.

The attention drawing cotton-y bandaid that was placed on the gash on the side of my temple has been (thankfully) downgraded to a regular bandaid. That’s fine--I can accept that. What I can’t accept are the stupid cuts caused by all of that glass.

After being released from the hospital, it took no time for me to learn that it’s going to be awhile before I can comfortably wear pants again. My arms are a little less cut up, so the white, long sleeved shirt I picked out covers my injuries without irritating them. I tried on a pair of leggings and I barely got them to my thighs without wincing.

So now I’m wearing the most comfortable skirt I own. Normally, I wouldn’t even think twice about it, I wear this skirt so often, but it barely covers any of the cuts on the back of my legs. God...people are going to think I’m doing this for attention, especially since media outlets keep calling my house.

Ugh--this is as good as it’s going to get for my first day back. I pick my backpack up from my bed. My eyelids feel so heavy I have to fight the urge to collapse back into bed.

The walk downstairs is painfully slow. Once I’m finally in the hall that leads to the kitchen, I stop. A vague confusion clouds my thoughts. Was I going to the kitchen? What did I want from the kitchen?

“Mornin’, kiddo.” I blink at the sound of Wells’ voice. At least it’s offering me a sense of a direction.

Stepping fully in the kitchen, I greet back, “Good morning.”

He eyes me for a long second, piercing blue irises lingering in a way that makes me feel uneasy in my own skin. “Skirt’s a little grown, ain’t it?” When my only reaction is to furrow my eyebrows, he continues, “What happened to those little girl dresses you used to wear? I liked those.”

I grab the strap of my backpack, shifting slightly. I stopped wearing those dresses after he had been dating my mom for a few months. “Outgrew them, I guess.”

Wells nods once, the motion gruff as he moves to grab his mug. He lets out a curt, gruff noise.

“Oh, Wells.” Like always, my mom’s voice chases away all the tension. “Don’t you know better than telling a girl what to wear? Especially a teenager. Now ease up, 16-year-old me would make Y/n look like a saint.” With that, my mom finally looks at me. “You look pretty, like always, I especially like your top.” It takes me a second to realize that my mom’s referencing the fact that I stole this shirt from her closet. I let out a soft, slow laugh. “You okay?”

I nod drastically. “Yep, just want to get the first day back over with.”

“I can’t believe you only took one day off. When I was your age, I’d have taken half a week off for less.”

“It’s going to be bad no matter when I go back. My name’s been all over the news.” I release the strap of my backpack, scratching the back of my wrist. “Plus it’s junior year and that one day off already has me drowning in makeup work. I can’t afford to fall behind. Junior year is the year colleges look at most. This year could make or break whether or not I get into Princeton.”

My mom holds her hands up in defense. “Yes, I know, you ranted to me about it yesterday. Just promise me you’ll listen to your body. I don’t love that you haven’t had your follow up appointment yet to confirm whether or not you have a concussion.”

“Mom, I’m fine, promise. I’ll let you know if I start to feel weird.”

She watches me for a long second, likely attempting to scan me the way an MRI machine would. “Fine, you need a ride or--”

“Actually, a friend’s picking me up.”

At that my mom tilts her head in a way that’s so knowing I feel the urge to confess even though I’ve done nothing. “A friend as in one of those two boys that spent all weekend calling and checking in on you?”

My mom spent the last two days at my side. Normally it would have annoyed me, but it was actually nice. It reminded me of life before Wells. There was one downside, though. She saw how often Billy and Stu called. It wasn’t terrible and she probably would have picked up on it anyway, but it’s opened the ground to a lot of jokes and comments on her part.

“You’re the one who brought them into this. I would have never thought to call Billy while I was at the hospital.” That’s true. Even though we were friends before the incident, I wouldn’t have thought to call anyone except my mom. “And they’re just trying to be there for me like good friends.”

At that, my mom leans against the kitchen island. “Y’know when I was your age, I had a guy that just wanted to be a good friend and drove me to school. Now I have a daughter.”

I roll my eyes, “Haha. Yes--I’m going to get pregnant in the less than 10-ish minutes we’re going to have before we need to get to class.”

“It only took about 8 minutes to make you, and that includes me getting dressed and fixing my hair after. Just saying.”

I make a point of fake gagging. “Bye mom, Wells.“

“What? I was joking!”

I walk towards the front door. A hand on my shoulder makes me nearly jump out of my skin. “Mom! You scared me.”

She offers me a sheepish smile, “You know I’m kidding, right? They’re nice for caring.”

“I know, mom.”

With a sigh, she continues, “Just be sa--”

“Oh my God, mom! I’m not having se--”

“Easy, pumpkin,” she laughs off my outburst, “I mean in general. Don’t strain yourself and don’t feel like you need to push through. You want to go home early and I’ll pick you up.”

I smile softly. “Yeah, I will.”

With that, I open the front door. The sun is so bright I have to drop my head as I walk down the driveway. Wells’ house is objectively nicer than the house my mom and I lived in when we were still in Texas, but I still find myself missing the familiarity of our old front porch.

Squinting, I look up and notice a car waiting next to the mailbox. How did I miss that? Rubbing my eyes with one hand, I approach the vehicle.

I pull open the door to the backseat. Two sets of eyes turn towards me. “You know you guys didn’t have to wait for me.” I push my backpack into the car before sitting down. “You could’ve honked or something,”

“We just got here,” Billy says easily, but I’m not sure I believe him.

Stu turns in his seat to face me better as I shut the car door. “Plus we don’t mind giving you time to get all dolled up. Especially since today’s going to be a total bloodbath.”

His wording leaves me more confused than upset. I draw my eyebrows together, shifting awkwardly. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone’s gone crazy over what happened. I think more people were talking about you than Casey, and Casey’s the one that got gutted. It’s all over the news. They hung her from that tree in--” Billy moves his hand from the console in order to smack the side of Stu’s head. “Ow, man--what was that for?”

“It’s not even 8 yet, at least let her wake up first before you traumatize her.”

The thought of Casey makes my stomach twist, but I’m not focused in on anything enough to really react. Tiredly, I pull my backpack onto my lap and squeeze it to my body. “It’s fine,” I’m not sure if I’m talking to them or myself.

Stu and Billy exchange a look that I barely register before resting my chin on my bag. “Are you okay? You didn’t even do that cute, little glare thing you do when you want me to shut up.”

“I’m fine,” I answer a little too quickly, forcing myself to sit up some more, “A little tired.” Stu’s watching me a little too carefully and I catch Billy glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “Seriously?” Sighing, I shift in my seat, “First my mom and now you guys. I’m fine.”

My reaction is just a little too angry. Maybe if I felt a little more rested, I would have known better. Stu moves until he’s siting in the passenger seat normally. “Crying over the fact that you’re a total mommy’s girl.”

Rolling my eyes and ignoring the way the motion irritates my migraine, I lean back in my seat. “Put on a seatbelt, asshole.”

Even though that’s said with more bite and irritation than anything I’ve ever said to him, Stu laughs. It’s light and terribly offensive. I frown, looking over at Billy as heat crawls up my neck and towards my face. He’s just barely fighting down a grin. “It’s not that funny.”

“No,” Stu sarcastically agrees, “That was so mean of you. I can’t remember the last time someone insulted me and tried to take care of me at the same time.”

I cross my arms around my backpack. “Why did I agree to getting into a contained space with you two so early in the morning?”

“Because you don’t have a license.” Billy looks way too smug as he turns the wheel as we move down a curb.

I glare at him. “You extorted that information out of me while I was super out of it and half asleep.”

“You said it yourself, it’s not like one of us asked.”

He’s right and I hate it. I sink further into the seat, tempted to shut my eyes, but knowing that there’s no guarantee that I won’t fall asleep if I do. “Whatever.”

Stu half laughs at that before starting to talk about a new scary movie that’s coming out. The plot sounds kind of basic, but I’m not one to judge until I see the movie. Normally, I’d be totally invested. I kind of like when Stu rambles about something he’s interested in, but now I’m struggling to hold my head up.

I don’t register that we’re in the school parking lot until both Billy and Stu get out of the car. Once they’re both out, I shake my head once in an attempt to clear my thoughts. Get it together.

When I step out of the car, I make a point of keeping my eyes on the ground in front of me. Stu may exaggerate every once in awhile, but I don’t think he’s wrong about school. My mom has been fielding calls since the morning I was discharged from the hospital and last night while I was flipping through channels, I saw my face three times.

Before I can even think, a bright flash makes me flinch. The light is like a punch behind the eye thanks to my headache. That is followed by a series of other equally bright and irritating camera shutters.

Shit.

Billy steps towards me, dropping his voice so that only I can hear, “You know we don’t have to.”

Taking a settling breath, I tilt my chin up a fraction of an inch. “It’s fine,” I say, hoping that I’ll convince myself, “Can’t hide forever.”

We walk forward, me a few steps ahead of Billy and Stu. My fast pace is a sad attempt at ripping off the bandaid.

“Excuse--Excuse me, miss!” I squeeze the strap of my backpack so tightly my knuckles must be white from the tension. “Miss Y/n L/n.” The woman that waves me down is holding a large microphone. She barely glances at me before turning her attention back to the camera man that followed her as she chased me. “Hi. Gale Weathers. I covered the last one of these.”

I wince. “I’m sorry, when you say ‘the last one of these’ do you mean the last murder or--”

“...And we’re rolling!” In nature, bright colors are meant to warn living things of poison. I think that logic could be applied to Gale Weathers and her auburn hair and blood red lips. “I’m Gale Weathers and I’m bringing you an exclusive with the lone survivor of what some are calling the worst murder in Woodsboro history.” She then turns towards me, “Now, Y/n, our viewers want to know exactly what you’re feeling.”

Her microphone is way to close to my face. “Well, Gale, I’m glad you asked,” I’m speaking in the polite tone I used to reserve for rude customers when I worked in the mall last summer, “I’m feeling fan-freakin’-tastic!”

The false enthusiasm jars her the way I hoped it would. She brings the microphone back to her. “Really?”

“No, you vulture. Ambush interviewing is as tacky as that suit.”

With that, I turn away and attempt to storm into school with an aura that scares away reporters. I’ve only ever seen that kind of confident magic come from my mom, but she’s half my genetic material, that means it must be in me somewhere, right?

Apparently wrong, because the cameras continue to flash. One man gets so close to me that his rapid photographing leaves me dizzy.

“Okay,” an arm quickly wraps around my side, stabilizing me, “You got your pictures, now leave her alone.” The scent of Tatum’s perfume is comforting as she guides me the rest of the way inside. Once we’re inside, we’re granted the semblance of some privacy. “And I thought they were bad yesterday. Are you okay?”

I nod, relaxing a little at her casual expression. Maybe if I try hard enough, I’ll be able to pretend that this is an average Tuesday. “I’m fine, I’m just tired, and I can’t believe how obsessed everyone is.”

“Of course they’re obsessed.” For the first time ever, Randy’s voice is completely unwelcome. “You’re the sole survivor, the only witness to tell the story, the--for lack of better term--final girl.”

Being in a friend group with so many people that are really into horror movies is all fun and games until they summarize the great trauma of your life in a movie trope. “Really? I never would have thought of it that way.”

Sidney glares at Randy in defense of me. I appreciate it, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. “It’s too soon for those kinds of jokes.”

My sarcasm was pure venom and Sidney’s reaction, though well intentioned, only made me feel sorry. Randy offers me a sheepish sort of look that immediately makes me feel bad for being so snippy. His comment wouldn’t have bothered me so much if it wasn’t for what just happened, and he wasn’t really trying to be mean. That actually might have been an attempt to lighten the mood, especially since he knows that the final girl storyline is one of my favorites. He’s always recommending movies that end like that.

“Thanks, Sid, but I came on a little strong. I’m sorry, Randy, I’ve been a total nightmare all day. Just ask Billy and St--” I look around, a little surprised that they’re not right behind me. Aw, I lost them in all that commotion. “Weird--they were just behind me.” Shaking off the slightly lost feeling with the turn of my head, I move on, “Ask them later. The point is, I’ve been awful. It’s not your guys’ fault that this is my life right now.”

Randy’s expression morphs from being almost hurt to something that’s even more of a punch in the gut. He seems sympathetic. “It’s okay, you’re holding it together way more than I would be. I don’t even know how you’re at school today.”

“Yeah, how are you even here, Y/n?” Tatum echoes, her voice a little softer than before.

It’s a good question. Now that I’m here all those points I made about school and grades and Princeton feel so far away. “It had to happen at some point, I might as well rip off the band aid. I just want everything to go back to normal.” I shift awkwardly, watching them watch me. “And the man that did this doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of my fear.”

After a moment, Randy prompts, “...And?”

“And what?”

He half smiles. “Come on, Y/n, if you want this to feel normal, you’re going to have to give us the Princeton rant.”

I roll my eyes before scoffing. “I do not talk about Princeton often enough for you to warrant naming it a specific rant.”

Randy raises an eyebrow at my obvious lie. “You must have really hit your head hard.”

“Rude.“ I turn towards Tatum, “Tate, you don’t think I’m like obsessed with Princeton.

She parts her lips as she debates the way she wants to respond. Before she can say anything, Stu walks up from behind me and pulls Tatum into a hug. He then gives her a soft kiss that feels linger-y. Wait--why am I noticing that? That’s...that’s weird of me. And why does this feel more uncomfortable than the time I caught them full on making out in the girl’s bathroom? Why is that tiny display of affection sitting in my chest in a way that makes it hard to look at them?

More annoyed at my thoughts than the way Stu cups her face, I force my myself to stare at the locker in front of me. There are polaroids of people I don’t know tapped to the front of it.

Ugh--screw the guy that threw me into that wall. My head must be totally messing with me.

“What are you guys talking about?” Billy’s sudden appearance surprises me more than it should. At this point, I should know that when I see one the other isn’t too far behind. He has an arm around Sidney’s shoulders, and she’s leaning into his touch just enough for it to be noticeable. Since when is Billy so into PDA?

Oh my god, what’s wrong with me? Maybe my mom was right to think I have some kind of brain injury. My eyes snap back to the locker. “Nothing.”

“Y/n’s obsession with an Ivy League school in New Jersey.”

After a moment of silence, I realize that everyone’s waiting for me to speak. “Not an obsession.” My response lacks my usual level of conviction when talking about Princeton in any capacity. I can feel the fragile way they’re all looking at me. My eyes focus on the polaroids in front of me until everything else blurs into the background.

The polaroids have my eyes watering and I don’t know why. They’re just stupid pictures of people I don’t know. Casey’s voice echoes in my head. It’s a punch in the gut.

Stu’s voice cuts through the static of my thoughts. “Y/n? Are you o--”

“I think I remembered something.” The admission is so low I’m surprised anyone hears it. “Randy, do you have a copy of the news article? Not the first one, the second one that lists everything found at the crime scene?”

“Yeah,” Randy admits it like it’s an apology, “In my backpack.”

“Can I see it?”

Everyone stays quiet at that. There’s an energy in the air that makes me feel as trapped as I did in the hospital. “Come on, guys, I don’t need to be babied. The pictures aren’t going to freak me out, I was kinda there for the real thing.”

“At the hospital, didn’t you say you were unconscious for most of it?” Billy’s remark earns him a glare so harsh that he moves his hands to hold them up in defense before dropping them to his side.

“Fine. Whatever. Don’t show me the newspaper, I’ll find my own copy, it’s everywhere. There’s a good chance some jag-off shoved one into my locker anyways.” Ugh--why is everyone so impossible? I turn on my heels, unsure if I’m fuming or ready to burst into tears.

I don’t even make it a full step before something locks around my upper forearm. My head snaps back as the hand’s sudden grip softens. “Come on, bug.” That leaves me hesitant. Stu called me that the day after we first met. Since then, the nickname has mainly been reserved to calm me down. I’ve asked him about it before, but he always refuses to explain it. “You’re just going to make yourself sick.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I frown. The group learned about my weak stomach early on in our friendship. My first night drinking with them ended with me throwing up in Stu’s bathroom. That wouldn’t have been so embarrassing if I was totally wasted, but I was objectively way too sober to get that sick.

There’s some underlying quality to his words. A quality that’s too knowing, too sure. He’s being more condescending than sweet. “I think I can manage.” I pull my arm away, ignoring the way his expression blanks. “I’m not a vase or a little kid, I don’t need you all treating me like I’m that unbelievably fragile.”

Stu angles his head to the side. I force myself to tilt my chin upwards in an attempt to stand my ground. I don’t fully get whatever face off we’re in, but I’ll be damned if I lose it this quickly. “Since you’re all grown up, Y/n, look at whatever you want, but don’t come crying to me about it.”

I take a step forward, indignation leaving my spine straight. “When have I ever--”

“You couldn’t even spend a few hours by yourself in a hospital.”

The unfairness of his statement forces a scoff from my lips. I take a step forward. “I didn’t ask for your help then and I’m not asking for it now.”

“Stu.” Billy’s voice is level, bordering on neutral.

At that, Stu exhales, but he doesn’t stop staring at me. “It’s fine, Billy.”

“Yeah,” Stu echoes, shifting towards me, “Y/n’s fine, she doesn’t need anyone.”

A sarcastic, half thought out reply rises up my chest and jams itself in my throat. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about how much taller than me Stu is. He’s looking down at me with an intensity that hits me straight in the stomach. Great, another feeling I don’t understand. “Whatever,” I mumble, “I need to get to class.”

The bell rings a moment after I turn. I walk to homeroom, not thinking twice about it until I’m sitting in front of an empty desk.

My face is hot, my head hurts, and Mrs. Ramirez’s announcements are drowned out by a ringing in my ears. When the bell rings, I can’t get out of the room fast enough. Normally, Stu’s around right after homeroom, ready to walk me to math.

I don’t know what that weird argument was in the hallway, but I’m not ready to deal with it yet. So even though I’m gripping the straps of my backpack so tightly it hurts, I take the long way to class. There are no memories of Casey in AP Calc AB, so this time when I sit at my desk, I can breathe.

By the time I’m pulling out my notebook, the bell rings. Mr. Williams walks to the front of the classroom, “Alright, everyone in their seat. For today’s exam, you are permitted the use of a graphing calculator.”

Shit. The test. I forgot about the calc test. Mr. Williams begins to hand out the exam. When he gets to me, I stop him, “Mr. Williams, I-I was wondering if I could possibly take the exam on another day? After the events of this weekend, I--”

“Ms. L/n, I made it clear to the entire class that I do not believe in scheduling a makeup exam the day of.”

My fingers nervously scratch at the back of my wrist. “And I understand that, and normally I’d never ask, but if you’ve seen the news--”

“Ms. L/n, do you want to take the test or would you rather me put a 0 in the grade book?”

I could scream. I want to scream, but instead, all I do is nod, “Take the test.”

And with that, he places the packet on my desk. The sound it makes feels like a death sentence. The next 50 minutes are a nightmare. I don’t remember how to do half the problems, and what I do remember, I can’t seem to do right. By the time the bell rings, I’m in full on panic mode. Mr. Williams collects the test and I leave the room like it’s on fire.

The sharp pain in my head has never been this bad. I reach my locker, unlocking it to grab my bottle of ibuprofen. I take two Advil without any water. Today totally, unbelievably sucks. I need to splash some water in my face.

The bathroom is thankfully empty. Pushing my backpack off of my shoulders and onto the counter, I turn on the sink. The water is cool against my fingers, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe. My bandaid is sticking out to me too much so I force my gaze downwards.

There’s a long abandoned copy of a newspaper on the counter. Its corners are so wet that the words at the start and end of the article are unreadable. The page it’s opened to has no photos. I’m sure if I flipped through it I’d find something listing everything the police found inside the house that night.

Stu’s earlier claim echoes in my head as I pick up the newspaper. I’m not sure if I’m more motivated by spite or the desire to answer the question in my head, but I guess it doesn’t matter, because the end result is the same. I turn the page, skimming the article. The intro is so long that I still haven’t gotten to the murder, let alone what the police found after. I flip ahead until I find what I’m looking for.

I read the section about everything that was found twice. They mention everything down to the burned jiffy pop and the tube of lipgloss Casey left in the living room. The paragraph never mentions the polaroids from the kitchen.

He took pictures of me from the crime scene.

Unease leaves my stomach in knots. The killer, who talked to me on the phone like we were best friends and chose to not kill me took photos of me.

I turn the page frantically, desperate to see if the polaroids are mentioned there. Big mistake. Casey’s photo is staring at me, but she’s not her in it. She’s hanging from that big tree in her yard and her--her intestines...

Cold sweat leaves my hands clammy. My body knows what’s happening before I do. A stall door gets thrown open just in time for me to throw myself onto my knees. Bile and whatever’s left of last night’s dinner burn as they come up my throat. I wretch.

An unexpected but not unpleasant touch is pressed into my back as my hair is pushed out of my face. More bile leaves me.

After a second passes and I don’t throw up a third time, I turn my head just enough to see who’s next to me. Billy. He doesn’t say anything at my recognition, he just moves his hand up and down my back gently.

“...I found a newspaper.”

“Yeah, I assumed after i heard the…”

He’s trailing off to be nice. I shift in order to sit cross legged on the floor. “Right. That’s fair.”

His hand stalls against my back. “I didn’t mean it li--”

“I know.” My voice is too small.

Billy moves his free hand. I don’t know what he’s doing until he’s pulling the paper away from me. I let him take the newspaper and place it somewhere on the other side of him. “Why’d you look?”

“I--earlier, I was looking at this locker in front of us and it had polaroids taped to it, and-and that made me remember that on Saturday, Casey took a bunch of pictures of me. Polaroids.” I wipe at my face with the back of my palm. "The article’s super detailed, but it didn’t mention any pictures. I-I think that means that the person took them.”

Billy’s eyebrows draw together. The corner of his mouth turns downwards. “You’re making yourself sick over this.”

“Because it’s a big deal!” My reaction is harsher than it should be. He’s being nice to me after I blew up at everyone this morning and they were just trying to be good friends. And after this, I’m in no position to talk about what I am and am not able to handle. “It’s a big deal that I’m alive and Casey isn’t.” Taking a shaky breath, I continue, “And I should--I have to make it right somehow. Casey’s dead and I’m alive because it fit whatever plot he wanted to make. It was total chance, the killer probably flipped a coin while outside of her house to pick which one of us would live and which one would end up like...” I gesture vaguely in the direction of the newspaper, “That.”

He’s quiet for so long I think he may not respond at all. His hand begins to move up and down my back again in the form of small circles. “Do you really think that?”

Shrugging, I lean into his touch. “I mean, it’s probably either that or a stalker scenario.”

“You don’t have to figure it out. Just because you’re the one that survived doesn’t mean you need to put yourself through this. Especially now. It just happened, give yourself some time.” His voice is so assuring and oddly comforting I feel my eyes water. “What’s wrong?”

Despite myself, I almost snort. “I think you know what’s wrong.”

He gives me a semi bitchy look. “Something else happened, I can see it on your face.”

Frowning, I let my gaze drop to the ground. “Am I that transparent?”

Billy moves, the hand that’s not on my back coming beneath my chin. I let him tilt my head upwards until our eyes meet. “You have no idea.”

Warmth crawls up my face. He smiles. “Fine, I’ll tell you but it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve had a really bad headache all day and then I get to first period and Mr. Williams starts talking about an exam. And that’s how I realized that I completely forgot about the calc unit test. I tried using the whole almost murdered excuse--I kinda hated myself for it, but it doesn’t matter, because he didn’t even go for it.” With a dramatic, deprecating sigh, I start to pick at a loose thread in my shoe lace. “Mr. Williams doesn’t believe in getting out of the test the day of. There’s no way I didn’t fail it, and it’s an AP class so that’s going to mess with my entire GPA.”

He doesn’t comment on my teariness or the way that I almost sniffle, he just continues to softly rub my back. The gesture is starting to feel somewhat maternal, but it’s nice. “He made you take the test?”

“Mr. Williams’ is a total asshole.”

Billy’s mouth turns upwards, “He sounds like it.” I smile, leaning into his touch. “You should go back to the doctor.” He frowns when I move away from him. “Your head hurts, you’re moody--”

“Am not.”

“Right, because that stand off with Stu earlier was like you.”

Right--that weird moment in the hallway. Great, Stu’s probably mad at me, and there’s no way that me going out of my way to not see him before math is something he’s going to take lightly. “He’s probably so mad at me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Billy says, “He can’t stay mad at you.”

I give him a look. “He’s petty.”

Billy smiles after a second. “He’ll be petty about it, but he won’t actually be mad.” Before I can respond, Billy stands, “Come on, you need to go to a doctor.”

After a second, I stand, taking his hand. “Fine.”

----

Taglist: @cole22ann @i-amnotokaywiththis

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1996 #scream imagine #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #x reader #final girl fic #slasher fic #slasher x reader

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