Includes: shy yandere x fem reader, established relationship, and messing around because ur both horny.
You would categorize your relationship as perfect. He’s not the typical douche you have met on the apps—just a regular dude with a not so normal condition. Shy yandere was shy. Timid. Scared to make a single move towards someone he considered to be the most scared person in his life. He could barely hold eye contact with you for a couple of seconds before he started to stutter. His ears turning bright red, finger pads drumming against the table you two sat at, and each word came with a nervous chuckle.
Shy yandere knew when to be a gentleman. Ladies sat in the booth, the comfiest and spacious seat in the restaurant, and it also meant you were more inclined to stay with him for longer. A hard ass chair wouldn't suffice. He didn't want to overstep and order for you, pretending that he's been here before to "impress you." He wore his perfectly ironed blue button down, black slacks that you gifted him, and made sure not to overdo it with his sweet amber scented cologne.
This wasn't the first or second date you have been on—despite what others might think—it was the tenth. And yet, he still had the jitters.
You've kissed before. Sleepy kisses in the morning before he went off to work or before you guys fell asleep. All you had to do was to gently slap or pinch at his cheeks to keep him conscious. He would seriously try his best to prevent his eyes from drooping.
"You still with me?" you would have to ask in between each smooch, only getting a low groan from him in response.
Biting on your lower lip was his favorite. Slipping in his tongue to play and be intertwined with yours. You could tell when he was fully present by how desperate he was, clinging onto your shirt tightly before his grip weakened.
Even a little peck from you would cause his brain to go haywire, and his body goes limp.
It terrified you when he had suddenly passed out mid make out session or when he had flopped onto your back after nearly stuffing his cock inside of you. He was so close—the tip pressing against your folds.
You were starting to get frustrated that he even bought pills. Shit never worked. It made him more flaccid if anything.
So, you two resorted to dry humping. Wildly, with the bed shaking and creaking, his hands eagerly grabbed at your ass to guide you up and down his length. He specifically liked the feeling of warm and wet cotton rubbing against his cock, and the sight of the fabric sticking onto your folds just made him feel giddy inside. At least this way you could get your rocks off, finally letting out a sigh of relief as your thighs tensed up around his, fingers digging into his scalp.
On your off days, he had you on his lap. Caressing any exposed skin, testing out the waters and seeing what his heart could handle. When he doesn't feel lightheaded, his fingers slip underneath your sweatpants and inched towards your cunt.
Nosebleeds were a constant thing. If it wasn’t flowing down south—causing him to think lustful things—it was trickling out of his nostrils. You were radiant in his eyes, an absolute gorgeous specimen that deserved a better man who wasn’t a complete wuss.
A man who could rearrange your guts without going unconscious.
However, he prepared himself this time through... rather unsavory methods. Shy yandere did not want to admit that he's been creeping on you, watching you shower and jerk it to build up stamina.
But he was determined to show you what he was capable of.
"So..." the man briefly glances at your lips before looking at your empty plate, "we went to the park, walked around, went sightseeing, and I was thinking... your feet must be tired, right?"
Shy yandere gives you an innocent smile.
"Want to move our date to somewhere a little more...comfier?"
ⓘ THIGH PILLOWS - DICK GRAYSON/GEN!READER
//cw// fluffy, slightly suggestive, mention of stretch marks
Dick is one clingy bastard, so much so that whenever he comes home from patrol—whether you’re sleeping or not—he slots himself between your thighs and rests his head on the plush skin.
You could be watching tv, laying on the couch and he’d slither in between your legs, nuzzling into the crook where your thigh meets your core. He’d take a deep breath, taking in your scent after a long day of missing you before looking up at you with those puppy dog eyes. Your hands would glide through his hair, almost like petting him, and his eyes would softly close. He felt safe.
You could be almost asleep when the door opens and you know what’s coming. You hear him unzip the nightwing suit and slip under the covers before somehow making his way between your thighs yet again. He’d leave small kisses along your stretch marks, remarking on how beautiful you are and how sorry he is that he’s so late. You’d brush him off with, “thats the hero biz, no?” But you silently loved when he got all apologetic.
You could be sitting on the armchair, reading a book and he’d get down on his knees in between your legs and slowly wrap his arms around your waist, resting his head yet again on your thigh. You’d look down in surprise at the sudden intrusion but smile gently as he sighed and nuzzled further into you.
⇢ he might be in the middle of a meeting and he suddenly feels a tiny thorn lodging itself into his chest. he pauses whatever he was saying, pressing a large palm flat to his chest.
⇢ " … meeting ajourned. something important just came up. keep working diligently while i'm gone. good work today, team." he's already halfway out the door as his sentences trail off.
⇢ he takes longs strides through the building, his sights focused straight ahead. he doesn't hear any of his employees call after him with follow up questions, or bidding him a curious good-bye. they watch as he makes a beeline for the exit
⇢ the fastest way to you is straight through the forest. his feet pound the dirt as he speeds like a bat out of hell through the brush and understorey. twigs snap and small critters scurry out of the way. his heart beats wildly against his chest
⇢ "i'm comin', pancake. hold tight"
⇢ your scent grows stronger as he swiftly approaches your home. the sting of the wind scratches at his throat and eyes but he only pumps his arms and legs harder. sweat cascades down his bulking muscles and chest, and his tanned skin glistens as the setting sun shines upon it
⇢ he blinks away the sweat that clings to his eyelashes as he looks up at your balcony
⇢ there you are. his tail flicks and swishes happily behind him at the mere sight of you — though from where he stands you are only a small dot
⇢ not for long. he bounds up with his powerful legs, catching onto fire escapes and climbing up whatever might be sticking out or hanging down until he can hop over the short wall and land next to you
⇢ " … hi," he says, his tongue slightly poking out as he pants like a dog
⇢ you straighten up from leaning on the banister, eyes puffy and wet. you sniffle, bringing a knuckle up to wipe away at a plump tear that was threatening to fall. "hi," you respond, offering a weak smile
⇢ "i felt it. i felt you were sad. so i came running"
⇢ you frown for a half second. "weren't you at work?" you ask, hugging your arms around yourself
⇢ he laughs, waving off the sentiment. "yeah yeah but … i mean … they got it," he scoffs cheekily, licking a stripe over a fang.
⇢ he saunters towards you with arms outstretched. without a second thought you rush into him as hard as you can, thinking it would make him at least stumble back a little on impact. of course it doesn't. he thinks you're cute for trying though
⇢ he embraces you with a big sweeping gesture, wrapping you up tight in his giant arms. he's so warm … and really sweaty. you can feel his heartbeat erratically thrashing even under his jacket
⇢ "did … did you run here???" you say, muffled against his chest
⇢ his laugh reverberates against your face before he shoves his nose onto the top of your head, nuzzling, inhaling and planting kisses.
You thought you wouldn’t get such sweet and intimate aftercare from your roommate, Sukuna, but oh honey how you were very much wrong.
Wrinkled bedsheets, pillows on the floor, the lingering smell of passion and desire, messy hair, the sound of heavy breaths, and his playlist still playing in the background.
You couldn’t believe it, your roommate has almost fucked the soul out of your body. How many rounds did you two take? Two, three, four? Shit, you couldn’t count anymore. How can you even count when you can’t even think well anymore?
Thought what he said about fucking you until you can’t think about anything else anymore was a joke? Fuck no, he was serious, and you underestimated him.
Now you’re stuck in bed, body so fucking sore that you couldn’t move without your muscles aching.
That’s when you realized, where did Sukuna go? Did he leave you alone to deal with the soreness alone?
“Fucking jerk, knew he was a playb—“ You got interrupted as the door opened, revealing a nonchalant Sukuna with a face so casual like he didn’t turn your limbs into jelly!
“What’s with that look on your face, woman? Thought I’d leave you to deal with this?” He said, reaching out for the water jug and poured a glass of water for you.
You didn’t answer, instead, you took the glass of water and chugged the whole glass down. It made him amused by the sight.
“You’re like a feisty cat who’s been provoked.” He smirked, pouring another glass of water and handing it to you. “Here, drink up, you must be dehydrated after getting all creampied inside.”
You spat out your drink after he finished that sentence, why did he have to mention that right now?!
You shot a glare at him, “Of course I’m dehydrated, I nearly blacked out due to your soul crushing thrusts!”
He chuckled, then he suddenly stood up and swiftly held you in his arm. Yes not plural form, he was holding you using just one arm.
“Gah! Let me go! I’m filthy and sweaty and—“
“That’s why I’m taking you to the bathroom to give you a bath, woman.”
You tried to protest, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but you know him, he wouldn’t even budge.
“I’m gonna take care of you tonight, and that’s final. Got it?” He turned on the water, making sure it was the right temperature that you prefer.
“Ugh fine then..”
“That’s my favorite girl.” He kissed you on the forehead, lathering the shampoo in his hands as he started to massage your scalp.
God Sukuna can be such a brute, but when it comes to you, he’s a complete softie, it’s unbelievable.
You'd think Dennis would find this funny, wouldn't you?
Housesitting for your boss, when one day a dirty magazine arrives in the mail. Oh how hilarious. Now Dr Robby not only owes him a favour, but Dennis now has something funny to tease him over too. Fantastic. Trinity will piss herself laughing.
But that's not what happens.
Dennis immediately drops the thing out of shock, shouting "shit shit shit shit shit-" in a progressively panicked tone.
Because this, this, is the magazine that, back when he was extremely desperate for money, he did a boudoir style shoot for.
He never thought about those photos again after they took them. Until now obviously. But now all he can think about is that his boss/friend/crush might have seen him like that.
Arms above his head, with his jumper riding up, and his nipple peaking out.
Oh god Dr Robby might have seen his nipple.
He also tries to shove down the unhelpfully hopeful thought about how Robby is subscribed to this magazine. This magazine that this is very much targeted towards men who are attracted to other men. Dennis has to actively stomp down that giddy internal monologue squealing "I have a chance!"
Because that is ridiculous. No matter what this subscription might suggest, there is no way someone like Robby would want a relationship with him.
As far as he could tell, from overhearing Princess and Perlah's gossip, all Robby's previous 'relationships' had been with women. All the ones serious enough to be known about at work anyway. This must just be some fun that the man enjoys privately? Right?
The thoughts become even harder to shut down when Robby starts casually phoning him at his rest stops.
"To check how things are going."
That's what his attending says he's doing anyway. But over time the calls have morphed more into friendly chats than practical discussions about the house.
Asking more about what music Dennis likes and what it was like growing up in Nebraska, than about if he remembered to take the bins out or if any of the neighbours had asked after him.
These chats flowed both ways obviously. Dennis learned a lot about Robby too. From how he liked his eggs cooked, to how he sung and played bass in a very shortly lived rock band in medical school.
Robby was momentarily horrified when Dennis managed to find a grainy camcorder video on YouTube of "The Flu Fighters" performing in a crowded bar sometime in the 90s. He also blushed when his resident complimented how good the performance sounded. And laughed when Dennis screeched out "IS THAT DR ABBOT?!" mid way through watching the clip.
It was, the night shift resident was on vocals, and at one point had his leg (not yet a prosthetic) propped up boldly on one of the amps, strutting like a peacock at someone in the front row of the crowd.
So given how 'close' they had gotten, it only felt natural when eventually these chats turned into video calls.
Their talks usually took place after Dennis' shift, so this way he could make himself some dinner, without the need to sandwich his phone between his shoulder and the side of his face. It was much easier just propping 'Robby' up on the worktop so the older man could watch Dennis potter around the kitchen prepping and cooking a stir fry while they shared details about their day.
It makes the house feel less big and empty. And good lord Dennis definitely notices the difference on the days the Motel's lack of wifi stops Robby from calling.
Robby jokes skeptically on one of these calls that Dennis "probably hasn't managed to keep any of the houseplants alive". That he was expecting to come back in just over a week to "a barren wasteland in colourful pots".
To which the younger man became very mock offended. Because as he pointed out, he is "an excellent plant foster dad, thank you". Proving his point by taking Robby on a tour of the luscious, green, and thriving beauties.
Though when he goes to show off the Monstera by the front door that was now actually starting to flower, Robby suddenly goes white as a sheet. Dennis taps his phone at first, thinking the feed must have frozen given how still and silent his boss had gone.
He scans the room for what may have panicked Robby.
Oh god. Did he fuck up somehow?
Did he trek mud in on his boots?
Did Trinity leave a liquor bottle laying somewhere?
Did the mail pile look too mess--
Oh shit
The magazine. It was clearly visible on the entry way table right next to the plant.
Dennis hadn't known what to do with it, so he'd just sort of left it there hoping it would disappear like a bad dream. But if the thing arriving here in the first place was a bad dream, then this was a nightmare.
Just as Dennis is about to start a frantic diversion onto another topic, Robby waterfalled out a thousand apologies.
"Fuck! Shit Dennis I'm so fucking sorry. Shit fuck I thought I cancelled the damn- "
"Robby?"
"-fucking hell- Dennis I cannot apologise enough, this was a total overstep-"
"Robby."
"-of boundaries and I completely understand if you want to swap shifts or-"
"ROBBY!" He shouted. Which finally made his attending stop babbling, didn't make him look any less frantic though. "I-It's fine, honestly! You have nothing to be ashamed of. There's no need for me to swap-"
"Nothing to be ashamed of?!" Robby cutted in again, "Dennis I don't know how stringent HR laws are in Nebraska, but an attending subscribing to a magazine because they saw a picture of their resident in an issue of it is so far beyond the realms of-" Robby cut himself off as he realised what he'd let slip. The chief hid his face behind his hands and let out a long sigh turned despairing groan.
"W-what- you- how did-" stuttered Dennis
Robby sighed much lighter this time. "Jack bought me one copy of it. As a joke. A 'funny' Christmas present after I came out to him as bisexual"
"Oh.. I, didn't know you were bi,"
"Honestly? It's a fairly recent thing. Well, recent in proportion to the rest of my life, I guess..." Even over a video call it was clear Robby was looking anywhere but him. All this talk of sexuality very clearly still made him a bit nervous.
"Well that's, ok? You know?" Dennis tried his best to be comforting. He hadn't exactly had many positive coming out experiences to base this chat off though. "There's no timeline for these things"
"I didn't even know I was on a timeline. I've only ever liked women. I'd never even looked twice at a man like that until I met-" Robby cut himself off and shook his head
"Until.. you met..?"
Those deep brown eyes returned to Dennis.
"You."
It felt like time stood still. Surely he can't be hearing this right, could he? That's impossible.
"Why would you say that?" Replied Robby with a furrowed brow
Oops, Dennis had said that last part out loud it seemed.
"Dennis, you're... you're amazing. You're smart, and you're funny. And you're somehow both handsome and adorable... How could I not start to like you?" His attending's kicked puppy expression returned. "I can only apologise that you've been saddled with an old man fawning over you like this..."
"You're not old! Well, you are- I mean, you're not that old, er, I don't mind that you're old? Or the fawning. Because I am too! The fawning that is, not the uh, old... Yeah"
Robby's face was a mix of shocked eyes and a tiny hopeful smile.
Meanwhile Dennis tried his very best to be brave. "So maybe when you, uh, get back, we could? Fawn? Together?"
The attending smirks at the unintelligible waffle of cuteness "Whittaker. Are you asking me on a date?"
"Yes. I think so. If you want to. Or er, would like that or- something."
"I would like that."
"That's great!" He shouted, unable to curb his enthusiasm. "Ah- yeah that, erm that would be cool" Great save Whitaker, flawless.
Neither of them spoke for a while beyond beaming like smitten teenagers and playfully telling the other to "piss off".
IN WHICH…MORGAN ASSUMES SPENCERS TIRED BECAUSE HES FINALLY FOUND SOMEONE TO SPENT THE NIGHT WITH, AND HES NOT WRONG, BUT NOT HOW HE THINKS.
WARNINGS: FLUFF, MORGAN THINKING SPENCE HAD SEX
A/N: this is very short ive just had this idea in my drafts 5ever and had to write it out idk. currently working on inbox requests tho dw!
spencer stood in the kitchenette, stirring an ungodly amount of sugar into his coffee. his face twisted in a yawn, back stretching up towards the ceiling. he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, which was usual for a case, but unusual considering he had been home, in his own bed.
“someone’s tired.” morgan walked over, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. while spencer had his specific mug that he labeled with his label machine, most werent that neurotic about what mug they drank from.
spencer grabbed the creamer and added a small amount, going back to stirring the hot liquid. “long night.” he said simply, not meaning to imply anything, but derek assured anyways.
“my man! finally found someone?” the question came with a grin and a clap on the back that made spencer’s shoulder slump forward.
he took a small sip from his coffee before placing it back on the counter and adding another sugar. “not that kind of long night.” he murmured. but he had found someone. someone he really really liked, maybe even loved. but the bureau didnt need to know that. not yet, at least. this was something he could keep to himself, something for only him to have.
derek’s eyebrows raised but he shrugged. “if you say so.” he hit the button on the coffee machine. “maybe me and garcia could set you up on a date.” he grinned.
spencer’s eyes widened. “thats not necessarily.” he quickly found a way to go back to his desk, claiming that he needed to get some work done.
—
the night before
“i dont understand why we always order take out when i always offer to cook.” y/n spoke, sitting next to her boyfriend on the couch. they had met at the town library by quantico, where she was working. after 3 months of knowing each other, they had started dating, and now, just over a year later, they lived together in an old one bedroom apartment they had picked together, built with warm wood structures that created a very warm atmosphere.
spencer was sitting next to her, eating from a plate of chinese take out. “because if you cook, that means less time we get to spend being together, because you like to cook alone.” he rattled off some excuse, taking another bite of chicken and broccoli. “plus, i think we basically pay the huángs bills, at this point.” the couple had become close to the owners of their favorite takeout place, known by name whenever they called or stopped in.
not being able to argue that fact, she settled into the couch and they ate in comfortable silence for a while. the tv was on lowly, playing some russian movie spencer had on dvd.after a while, the plates are forgotten on the coffee table and y/n is curled into spencer’s side, her head on his chest while he reads. “i think i want to paint my nails.” she says suddenly, looking at the bare ends of her fingers. “what color should i do?”
spencer thought about it for a moment. “im not sure. what colors do you have?”
after a moment of mentally going over the bathroom cabinet she spoke. “i have pastel pink, a mossy green, white, i think a few different purples, and some deep reds.” she told him. since her job was in the library, she was allowed to do as she pleased with looks. especially when she worked in the kids room, she was encouraged to express her sense of style.
“well, i like the purple best, the one you wore during your birthday. but, any color would look pretty.” he decided on thoughtfully. despite this being his first relationship, or really, the first women spencer ever talked to with even slight romantic intentions, he was a really good boyfriend. he said the right things, and apologized when he didnt.
she looked up at him through her lashes, still curled up on his chest. “if i grab the polishes, will you pick the color?” she asked hopefully, and of course, spencer agreed. she smiled and got up, padding into the shared bathroom. she grabbed the three different purples she had before making her way back to the living room, showing spencer the three colors. “okay, pick please.”
after thinking about it for a second, spencer pointed to a jelly-like deep purple with faint shimmers. “that one. it’ll match the sweater you always wear.”
“im so lucky to be dating a genius.” she pecked his lips, going to put the other polishes away.
the rest of the night was spent similarly. y/n painted her nails, spencer reid and kept her company and they ate ice cream. they hadn’t noticed the time until it was well past midnight, and neither made their way to bed, so they slept on the couch, curled in each others arms comfortably without a care for how it would affect their morning.
