#There's echos of you in the puppy you never got to meet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astrophileous · 1 year ago

Text

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

2K notes · View notes

beenbaanbuun · 2 months ago

Text

puppy w/ park seonghwa

words - 2.7k

genre - smut

warnings - dog hybrid!seonghwa, dom!seonghwa, human!reader, sub!reader, brat!reader, collaring, marking, biting, ownership, name calling (puppy, toy, master), reader is in a dress, minimal anal play, fingering, seonghwa is jealous

——————————————————————————

“you’re a bastard,” you scoff as you storm into the living room, rage flowing through every blood vessel in your body. the smirk on seonghwa’s perfect face does nothing but make it burn even hotter and before you know it you’re right before him, fingers wrapping themselves around his purple collar and tugging him close. the smirk never fades, even when your hot, minty breath is assaulting his senses. in fact it only grows. “where are my fucking shoes?”

he chuckles, opening his mouth just wide enough for you to see his extrovert of a tongue lapping over his sharp canines. he knows the effect his tongue has on you, and the bandaid on your shoulder is proof enough that his teeth hold just as much pleasure. there’s a familiar twitch in your core and you have to squeeze your thighs together to get it to calm down. he’s a conniving little mutt for causing so much trouble on a night as important as this. it almost makes you see what your hybrid-sitter meant when he called seonghwa ‘evil incarnate.’

“now, now, pup,” he croons, his voice deep and smooth as he reaches out a hand to trail up your thigh. it sends a shiver up your spine quicker than you can push it away and the twitch in your tummy only gets more impatient. oh well, you think, with a bit of luck you’ll be getting laid by someone other than your hybrid tonight. with a bit of luck, you’ll find the man of your dreams. “that’s no way to ask a question, is it?” his fingertips walk themselves to the inside of your thigh, dipping just under the hem of your short skirt, “ask politely and i’ll consider telling you, hm?”

“or maybe you can just tell me so i’m not late,” you growl as you let his collar go and force him back against the sofa. the hand on your thigh thankfully slips away, but his amusement only grows louder. you groan, irritated that this demon of a hybrid is the only thing between you and a potential love life. “god, you’re so irritating!”

the hand that previously lay on your thigh goes to rest on his own, and you follow it with your gaze. his fingers push against the denim, the little indents in the material casting your mind back to the previous night. you’d ridden it so well, or so seonghwa told you. such a pretty pup, he called you, doing such a good job of being independent. he’d left off the words ‘for once’ but you know as well as he does that being independent isn’t really your thing. it’s why you have a hybrid, and why you’re so willing to take yourself to meet a shitty tinder date that you’re not even half as attracted to as you are your pet. you getting yourself off using his body is probably the most independent you’re going to get.

his fingertips shift higher on his thigh until they rest next to the zipper of the jeans. despite how thick the denim is, it does nothing to hide the bulge he's sporting; a bulge that seems to be growing right before your eyes. again, it was something he’d praised you for last night. the way you wrapped your fingers around him and got him to cum with nothing more than your hand. “good pup,” his words echo around your skull, “i told you you didn’t need me to guide you through it, didn’t i? so good making me cum all on your own.” the words had felt so good at the time, but now they’re just a nuisance.

you’re late.

“why should i care if you’re late?” two fingers begin to play with the brass button that sits just below his clothed navel. they tease the button hole with it, half pushing it through before pulling it back and tracing a soft finger around it. it has you salivating, knowing exactly what it feels like to be played with like that. his lithe fingers working their way around your tight cunt, barely dipping into your treasure trove before pulling back to tease you some more. it’s evil, he is evil. “i told you a week ago i didn’t like you going on this date. what do you think has changed?”

he tilts his head in a way that makes you so unbelievably aware of how condescending he’s being. it’s like he sees you as nothing more than a dumb pup in need of some guidance that obviously only he can give. he talks to you like a fool; like unless his words are slow and simple you won’t understand. it makes you feel small under his fiery gaze. small, weak and pathetic.

you gulp down the words that had found themselves caught in your throat, hoping that upon the second attempt to get them out, they’ll come much easier. they weigh heavy on your mind, and for a second, you wonder if this is really the right move to make. you could just admit defeat and just pick out another pair of shoes. you could tell seonghwa you’ll see him later and leave. you could find a way out of this so easily if you just tried.

the way he’s looking at you like you already belong to him makes you not want to bother.

“you also told me a week ago that you’d fuck every other man out of my brain if you had to,” you fold your arms petulantly, trying to hide the way your chest heaves as you make your final decision. you can go on another date with another guy on another day, right? its not like dean from tinder is the only man in the world? he’s not even as pretty as the one sitting before you right now. “i'm still thinking about other men, aren’t i?”

silence. just for a moment or two, but it’s long enough to make you aware of just how hard you’re breathing, how quick your heartbeat is.

“are you sure that’s the move you want to make, pup?” he purrs as he leans forward, an elbow on each knee to support him. “i’m not in the mood to joke about this.”

“i’m not.”

“joking?” he lifts an eyebrow, “or sure? because if you’re not sure then i suggest thinking before you speak,” in one swift motion, he stands and takes a step forward, towering over you in a way that has your mind collapsing in on itself. “if you’re not joking, then i don’t know what you’re still doing on your fucking feet, puppy.”

his hand comes down on your shoulder, fingers digging in slightly as he guides you down lower and lower. the wood of the floor is harsh on your bare knees, but as he stares you down like you’re nothing more than a pest, you realise your knees are the least of your worries. by the time the night is over, you won’t be able to think straight; seonghwa will make sure of that.

the hand on your shoulder slips to your throat, a single finger tracing upwards from your clavicle to your chin. it lifts your gaze, holding you so you have no choice but to watch him. his ears twitch atop his head as they so often to when he’s annoyed with you, the white fur catching the light beautifully. it’s really not the time to be admiring how soft his coat it, but credit where credits due; you worked hard on making him look so beautiful.

you worked hard on everything when it came to him.

“such a silly pup, thinking she can go out and meet whoever she wants,” he purrs as his sharp nail digs painfully into your chin, “all while her master sits and home and waits for her to come back to him? because that’s what i am, isn’t it; you might be the master in everyone else’s eyes, but we both know who’s in control here.”

his finger slips free from your chin, your spine relaxing the moment it does. you heave in a heavy breath, unaware of how shallow they’d become as seonghwa stared you down. the way your lungs burn with need as you take in breath after breath is deliciously painful. you can’t help but notice the way it has your pussy fluttering around nothing. it has you wondering what it would feel like to be choked, for his pretty hand to wrap around your jugular and squeeze until you’re gasping for breath. you could beg for it, but knowing him, it’d take a lot more than a few pretty words for him to comply.

“seong—” he tsks as you attempt to call out his name.

“i don’t know who that is, puppy,” he tail swishes menacingly behind him, like a dog about to pounce. you have no doubt that that’s very much the case; theres a few more buttons to push first, but you have no doubt that sooner or later you’ll be face down with your cheek pressed against the wood. you just have to push a little harder.

“master,” the word is nothing short of sultry as it drips off your tongue. you can’t help but feel proud of yourself as you watch your hybrid visibly stiffen before you. “i’m sorry,” no you’re not; not if the outcome of tonight is this, “i didn’t mean to upset you.”

his tail swishes again. just a few more buttons.

“i’m not upset,” he lies, “i’m just struggling to understand your thought process.”

“i wanted to get laid,” you answer swiftly.

“you could’ve just asked,” he rebuts as he trails a hand up to his neck to unclip his collar. “i’d have been more than happy to let my puppy fuck themself on my cock all night.”

his words are punctuated by the sound of the clip coming undone, then the jingle of the name tag as the collar slips free of his neck. his skin there always looks so beautiful, like it’s begging to be marked. seonghwa never lets you, though; he prefers you to do it in places that won’t be hidden away by the thick leather band.

“i wanted to get laid by someone other than my…” you trail off, the word you want to say right on the tip of your tongue. you know it’ll get you what you want, yet your heart still beats ten to the dozen at the thought of actually saying it. honestly, you’re not sure why it has you so nervous; it’s a fact after all. you take a deep breath. “my pet.”

his eyes darken, a sly smirk rising to his face. now you’ve done it; you’ve secured your fate. it was significantly less buttons than you thought you’d have to push, not that you mind. it’s less work for you and you get fucked in exactly the way you want to; hard and fast, like you’re nothing more than the hybrid’s bitch.

“pet?” he scoffs as he leans forwards to wrap his collar around your neck. “if i’m a pet, puppy, then you must be a fucking chew toy.” the action doesn’t surprise you one bit. seonghwa likes to see his name dangling prettily from your throat. he likes to hear the twinkling of the name tag as he clouds your brain with his cock. it’s just an extra level of possession that seonghwa craves.

you hear it fasten into place, and before you can even register anything else, you recognise the familiar bite of his fingers against your skin. he’s quick in his movements, shoving you around into exactly the position he wants as if you are really just that; just a toy for him to play with however he wants to. his hands are everywhere as he pushes your head down, lifts your hips up, arches your spine until the icy temperature of the floor seeps through the cups of your dress too. you don’t even register it as he pushes your skirt over your ass and slips your panties down in one swift movement. everything is just so quick, and within a few short seconds, he has you exactly where he wants you.

he kneels behind you as his hands smooth over your ass, kneading the smooth skin beneath his palms in a manner far softer than you’d expect of him tonight. as he spreads you open for him, you know you should feel exposed. you can feel the burn of his pupils as his studies your holes, twitching as he runs a finger over the tighter of the two. it feels strange, just like it always does when he plays with that hole, but as he hums in appreciation, you let yourself sink into the feeling. you can cope with strange when he’s whispering pretty things to you, letting you know how good you’re being, how nice you feel clenching around him. his lips come into contact with the bottom of your spine, just a few inches north of where his thumb teases you, and you let yourself relax.

that kiss is worth just as much as his praises.

“the lube is upstairs, puppy,” he sounds almost sad as he whispers those words against your skin, his thumb slipping away from your puckered hole until only a ghost of a sensation is left, “and as sad as it makes me, i can’t fuck you there without it. you’re just too tight, and i don’t want to hurt my toy, hm? not really…”

his words feel like a safety blanket with how soft they’re being spoken. you’re well aware of how condescending it’s supposed to be, his voice lilting in the same was it would when talking to a child, but something in you doesn’t care. you like it when he talks down to you like that.

“it’s okay though,” he continues as he presses two fingers up against your slickened pussy. they trail up and down your slit, going from your entrance to your clit, gathering your wetness on the tips. the sound is vulgar, squelching loudly as he plays with you. you're too far gone to feel any humiliation from it, reveling in the short-lived electricity that lights you up every time he bumps against your clit. he can’t help but chuckle as he watches your hips buck against nothing, “i still have this sensitive little thing to play with, don’t i?”

you nod feverishly against the floor, keening as he lets his digits play with your clit for a moment or two longer than he had before. the circles he rubs against it are slow, and don’t nearly have enough pressure to do anything, but that doesn’t phase seonghwa. in fact he seems to rather enjoy it as you pant against the wood, shifting your hips to try and get just a little more stimulation. he gives in for just a second, pushing his fingers up against your swollen bud just hard enough to fetch a moan from your lips.

but it's gone again within the blink of an eye, seonghwa purring cruelly at your misfortune.

“sorry, pup,” he says with no remorse as he trails his fingers back up to your glistening hole. he tests it with one finger, sliding it into you with little resistance. “tonight isn’t about you getting spoiled, though,” he retracts it until just the tip is buried inside of you. a second finger slips in beside it and he pushes them in until they’re buried to the hilt, “it’s about you learning your place,” he scissors them inside of you, relishing the way your walls push back against him, “you’ll cum if you’re lucky.”

he ignores the saddened whine that leaves you, instead turning his attention to where his fingers pump in and out of you. with how wet you are, he has no doubt that he’d be able to slip right into you if he really wanted. it’s what he’d done the previous night, barely pumping his fingers into you twice before burying himself inside of you and marking you up like a hungry animal. perhaps it was wishful thinking to assume that the purple marks that cover your shoulders would’ve stopped you going on that date. perhaps he underestimated just how ‘full coverage’ your concealer was. perhaps he should’ve just put his foot down and told you exactly how he felt about the date. oh well, he tells himself as he bends his fingers to press against that sensitive spot inside of you, forcing a moan from your lips.

he won in the end.

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez smut #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader

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jinxificada · 2 months ago

Text

reserved affection

jinx x fem!reader

summary: while jinx deemed to be careless and independent, your devotion breaks down the walls.

notes: nsfw, mdni, wc 1,4k. SO apparently alot of u are pathetic needy losers like me since u liked that blurb sm i thought of writing it a bit more extensive heh. enjoy.

ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺

her heavy steps echoed through the dark hallway, leading you to her hideout. you carry a big box of mechanical tools and pieces for her work as she grunts and complains under her breath.

she just left a meeting with silco and sevika, you weren’t allowed to be present but you still could hear the commotion from the outside. apparently, jinx made the tiny mistake of leaving a door unlocked in one of the shimmer factories, permitting a couple of addicts to get in there and steal very few rations. it could’ve been worse, that’s why she was scolded.

jinx was reckless, impulsive and a bit messy. but it wasn’t usual for her to make big mistakes, and if she did, she can take care of them just fine. you prefer not making a big deal out of them, specially because she got very sensitive after these situations.

she almost slammed the door closed on your face, well, she did, but your own feet stopped it. struggling, you followed her inside and rushed to leave her stuff. jinx was talking to herself, to the voices. you sighed and carefully approached her.

“jinx…” you called, your voice soft as well as your touch, though she still flinched when your hands reached for her shoulders from behind. “don’t worry about it, nothing major happened.”

“still—“ she huffed, not pulling away but neither reciprocating your affection as her own hands were busy gripping her own hair. “it was a mistake, the door— i forgot the lock and— shut it! he talked to me with that tone, sevika was there!”

“she dealt with it, forget it, it’s in the past now.” you tried again, walking to stand in front of her and gently take her hands, making her frown at you.

“you don’t get it, you never will.” she harshly said, “if i keep making mistakes he won’t let me go anywhere, i want to participate! i’m useful!”

“of course you are!”

she huffed again, skeptical. “you’re just saying that.”

that made you pout, even after years of devotion, she still doubted your words?

if someone knew jinx, it was you. having met her in the peak of y’all teenage years gave you the perfect panorama of her person. at first she was just a cool looking girl for you, someone who could bring a thrill to your depressing, boring life.

it was hard getting close to her, to convince her that you weren’t a threat and to break down her walls to know her story and see some vulnerability. in jinx’s defense it was an accident, you caught her guard down. and then, when you didn’t leave nor use any information against her or her father’s business, she kept you around.

in the end you were just a puppy following her around, you were just happy to be there for her. even though she treated you, well, like shit. but sometimes, you noticed she grew fond of you. she started to need you, your reassurance and your desinterested affection.

you showed a loyalty rare to find in zaun, and she appreciated it deeply.

“i’m serious,” you whined, fixing her disheveled hair and rubbing her cheeks. “you’re super smart, the cause will be lost if you don’t participate. silco needs you.”

your words combined with the soft caresses only fluttered her heart. warmth creeped up her chest and she pushed you away before you could notice her blush, walking to her work table to pretend being busy with something.

you don’t hesitate to follow, sticking to her back to hug her by the waist. “you’re perfect~” you hum, moving her braid to hide your face on her neck.

“you’re annoying…” she muttered back. jinx found it hard to push you away, she got scared the first time she felt comforted in your arms, breaking any chance of intimacy with sudden attitude towards you. but that was long ago, now she couldn’t help herself. she turned around with another murmur, “don’t leave a mark.” she warned, tangling her fingers in your hair to keep you close and try to guide your kisses. you were successful to distract her today.

“i won’t, i promise.” you shamelessly lie as you keep savoring her neck.

you wanted it to last forever. forcing your weight against her as soon as she lets you touch her. you gripped her waist, eagerly kissing and biting her pale skin.

“mhm, you taste so good…” you groan in delight, listening to her breath quickening and the quiet gasps.

“s-shut up.” she let you push her against her work table behind her, leaning her head back to give me even more space. “you’re smitten, hm—“

“f’course i am.”

there’s no shame in your voice, just pure devotion. you wanted her, you needed her. like air to breathe, you wanted to consume her.

her little puffs of breath only encouraged you to keep going. your lips smooched her neck and clavicle, urgently pulling at her top in an attempt to take it off.

“fuck—!” she huffed, obviously feigning annoyance again as she eagerly maneuvered to pull it off, exposing her chest for you. you moaned in unison when you took her nipple between your lips, you don’t lose a second to dig into her small breasts and worship every inch.

“lemme taste you, please,” you begged, “please please let me.”

“d’you deserve it, though?” she smirked, trying to control her quiet pants. you could only whine, rubbing your nose on her neck again as you hug her tightly, maybe this way she’ll soften up. “please, please, please.” you muffled pathetically.

you gasp when she pulled your head back from your hair, taking your lips in a deep, wet kiss. her tongue took control and you felt like melting.

you’ve kissed her many times, always needy and softly. she usually kisses back lazily, letting you have your way with her as if in obligation when in reality she craved the contact. but this was different, from the second she initiated it, she moved her lips fervently against your, forcing her tongue into your mouth.

and you easily submit, humming softly while you squeeze her bare waist in your hands. jinx surprised you again when she takes you to the old couch, pushing the couple of plushies and pillows to the floor to lead your back on the surface.

“oh— jinx?” you sighed, both eager and expectant to see what was she doing. you were about to look away when she stripped of her bottoms, but you found yourself hypnotized by her naked body.

“you wanted to taste me, baby?”

you sighed again, gazing at her with wide eyes as she accommodated herself on top of your stomach, “yeah.” you nodded, biting your lower lip in anticipation when she moved again to straddle your head, promptly about to sit on your face.

she doesn’t have to say anything else because you’re already sticking your tongue out, even raising your neck a little to finally reach her pussy. she was already wet, her silk folds opened easily as you mouth started to work for her pleasure. what a treat, you thought.

it wasn’t long before jinx squirmed on top of you, trembling and breathless moans echoed in the room as she rode your face with a neediness you’ve never seen from her. your hands tried to grip on her thighs to try and maintain a pace, but she was impatient and controlling. she looked down at you with a scrunched face, ready to complain, but the sight of your mesmerized eyes and the feeling of you tongue lapping and circling on her clit greedily…

her thighs trembled against your head, squeezing you tightly but you didn’t mind, doing your best to hold her to keep her from falling off, you kept working on her pussy as she lazily grinds down on you until it felt too much.

you almost whine when she pulled away, making space for her to drop on the couch next to you. you reached for her own underwear to clean the mess in between her legs, wishing she let you do it with your mouth again.

“feeling okay?” you softly murmured, seeing her twitch every once in a while in aftershock, jinx was extremely sensitive after the intensity of her orgasm.

“m’fine.” she whispered, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. she leaned her body to your chest and you don’t hesitate to cuddle her, moving her body to half sit on you for comfort. lovingly, you pepper her face with kisses, “dumbass,” she tried to keep up the cold façade, but it was useless. her soft smile gave her away, she enjoyed your affection and she craved it.

good thing you had tones to offer her.

#jinx x reader #jinx #jinx arcane #lesbian #jinx x fem!reader #jinx smut #jinx x reader smut #arcane #arcane jinx #jinx arcane smut #smut #jinx lol #jinx league of legends #wlw #jinx x y/n #jinx x you #jinx fanfic

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jenosfairygirl · 10 months ago

Text

y/n being fucked by haechan and jeno after dance practice.

(this ones a little longer- bc I forgot to upload it <3- enjoy)

"that's a wrap everyone" the choreographer shouts loudly with her voice booming and echoing off dance room walls.

you had been invited by jeno to watch the boys dance because they had a huge award show performance coming up and jeno was ecstatic for you being there, giving you puppy eyes when he first made the proposal.

mark filled the room loudly with his laugher over something jaemin and renjun had said, but you where to distracted watching jeno to pay attention to their conversation.

he sported black sweat shorts and over sized while t-shirt today, with a low baseball cap covering his cool silky black hair. jeno decided he wanted to grow his hair out in a shaggy like cut for your likes sake. it made you absolutely feral.

haechan notices you sitting on the floor and walks his way over you holding out a bottle of water, you notice this and glady accept the cool drink from the boy. haechan was one of the most cherished and loved members, so how could you resist?

"haechan, jeno- where going to go watch a movie at chenle's, wanna join us?" jisung says loudly with his deep voice bouncing off the walls.

by this time, most of the staff & dancers had left and the only people are where their personal management and the boys themselves.

"hmm im going to stay behind with jeno for a bit- ill meet you guys there" haechan says while plopping himself right next you against the cool glass mirror.

mark didn't question haechans repsonse and the rest of dream piled out the door with marks laughter following suit.

jeno went to back to practicing in the center of the dance floor, and you couldn't help but admire his physique.

you kept staring at him- biting your lip and squirming slightly until you where abruptly snapped out your thoughts.

"helllooo- earth to y/n...hellooo" haechan states waving his hand in your face.

"im sorry haha, I got lost in thought" you say, adjusting your lower half, feeling your thighs ruled with wetness.

"no sweat haha, if I where you i'd look too" he says staring off at jeno like a wildness thought.

you feel the wetness in your thighs grow- you never had thoughts of other dream members until jaemin and now...haechan? I mean he was like your best friend.

you ignore what he says and stand up to stretch only for haechan to reveal your embarrassing mess on the floor.

"uh..y/n, did you uhm.." he trails off, staring down at the wet spot left on the cream colored dance floor.

"oh my god" you say softly, with your pinkish cheeks heating up with embarrassment, you then cover up your face with your hands and slightly chuckle to yourself.

jeno notices and makes his over to you both - just to also see the same wet spot on the floor- "this is so embarrassing" you mutter quietly.

jeno and haechan shoot deep eye glances at each other then haechan lets out a low deep chuckle.

"hmm you know y/n, I know all about last week" he says standing up making his way over to meet you and jeno.

you look at jeno and shoot him the 'oh no you didn't spill' look, but to your surprise jeno grabs you by your arm and presses your body against his-with your ass against his bulge.

he was so hard, so thick and his cock was practically coming out of his shorts.

you where now facing haechan- a horny embarrassed mess- with your hair falling in front of your face.

haechan slowly stands over you, using his hand to slide your hair behind your ear, grabbing you by your chin with soft delicate fingers.

he bends down and inches himself near until his warm soft lips are touching your ears. you felt the warm breath come from his mouth and that sent tingles and shivers down your spine.

"jaemin couldn't stop talking about tight you where" he says softly and deeply -making you squirm between the two men.

"je-jeno" you slightly moan. you could feel his dick poke out of his pants, with your free hand you grab it and began stroking the boy behind you, hearing his breath hiss as he feels your cold hand on his angry hot tip.

"do you want me and haechan to fuck you baby? do you wanna see how much of a slut you truly are?" jeno spits in your ear- making you moan instantly. you nod your head profusely and slightly begin begging under your breath.

"hmm I can't wait to see what you look like bouncing on my cock baby" haechan whispers softly in your other ear.

jeno then quickly slides his hot hands under your hoodie- grabbing your tits and feeling your nipples harden. he then begins kissing your neck roughly- biting and sucking every area, letting everyone know you where his.

"hmm let me see how wet you are pretty girl" haechan spits roughly- he then yanks your shorts down, only to find out- today you weren't wearing any underwear

"no panties baby?" jeno asks deeply still continuing to play with your tits.

then without words you see haechan get on his knees in front of you, spreading apart your sticky wet thighs your honey, he then kisses up your legs making his way past your knees and biting your thighs. the warm wet salvia from haechans mouth made a even bigger mess as he began working his soft bites and kisses near your pussy.

with jenos dick still in your hand- you speed up, jacking him off at steady yet fast pace. jeno moans in your ear and lifts up your hoodie to expose your tits to the cool air of the room.

"fu-fuck please- fuck me please" you stammer out- almost crying due to the edging your enduring.

you then feel haechans mouth on your pussy- sucking and laping circles into your clit as fast as possible.

you let out a soft yet harsh moan, squeezing jenos dick in your hand- begging for some time of stimulation from them.

"fuck this-" jeno states, undoing his tangle around you- taking away haechans mouth from your throbbing core.

"what do you have in mind?" haechan says to jeno- now laying down on the cold floor- stroking his long fat cock.

you never thought in a million years that haechans dick would be so long and big..would it even be able to fit inside you?

"on top of him-now" jeno spits at you- grabbing you by the back of your neck and nudging you towards haechan.

you do as you where told and climb on top of him, feeling dick right at the entrance of your pussy.

you then feel jeno behind you- bending you over in doggy with his cock at your ass entrance.

"baby..I-" you mutter softly- not being all so sure you can handle the boys at the same time.

you feel jenos weight fill itself into your back and his warm sweet breath near your ear-

"if you want us to stop, just say the word baby" he says kissing your ear again softly.

you open your eyes- not even noticing they where closed to see haechan staring at you.

his cheeks where pink, his hair was all over the place and you notice his pupils where dilated. you never looked at him this way, but my god did he look delicious.

without warning-both boys slip there cocks into you, stretching you out and filling you up like a donut.

they then begin to move in rhythm like drummers- with one bouncing after the other.

the sounds of their balls smacking against you and your moans filled the air. you look up to see yourself sandwiched between the two men and that sent you into over drive.

"mo-more. please h-ha-harder" you moan out loudly, with your nails digging into haechans shoulders to keep your stable.

"mm you like this don't you? you're such a fucking slut my god" haechan mumbles while sucking your nipple. you bounce yourself fast aghast the boys- feeling jenos finger tangle themselves in your hair. he yanks your head back to force your eyes land on the mirror in front of you.

"look at yourself. getting fucked by me and my best friend" jeno spits putting his fingers around your throat and squeezing roughly.

"god- fuck! can I cum- please" you beg softly while still bouncing at full speed. you arch your back more so you can feel them go deeply inside you, you let at cry at how good it felt.

the slapping of wetness and moans filled the air and it made you see stars. you couldn't help but start begging for it- begging for something- you wanted to be like this for all of eternity.

"can I cum inside you doll?" haechan asks while slapping your nipple roughly, you nod and muster out "please- please please" you moan

"who's slut are you? who do you belong to?" jeno asks while restlessnessly pounding into your ass.

'you! jeno I belong to you!" you scream loudly- noting that anybody would be able to hear you at this point.

"fuck- fuck im gonna cum-" haechan says squirming beneath you then he using your hips slamming into your pussy at maximum speed.

"fuck- ah shit" jeno moans- noting that he's about the cum- grabbing your ass cheeks roughly- spreading them apart to look at his and haechans dick going in and out your abused holes.

"cum for us us baby" they both said simultaneously and with those words it sent you spiraling.

you felt the world around you collapse and your vision became nothing more than a hazy bubble with birds and fairies dancing around your head.

you felt their cocks twitch inside of you filling you lip with their warm sticky cum.

they stop moving with their dicks still inside you-using this moment to catch their breath and wipe the sweat off their foreheads.

haechan was the first to remove his dick- with the exist of it leaving a 'pop' sound as it it was opening champagne for the first time.

jeno then followed suit- taking his cock out of you- leaving you trembling and shaking in pain.

you then plop yourself into haechans warm chest- to tired to move your body or speak at all.

you feel jeno grab you and slowly begin to put your clothes on. he slides his over sized white tee and slides it onto you- filling your aura and bubble with his warm vanilla/burbon scent.

you snuggle in the shirt and you fall asleep in jenos arms.

"I hopes she's going to be okay.." haechan asks while fixing his pants and slides on his pants walking towards his duffle bag full of stuff.

"she'll be fine" jeno states in a shy tone-while stroking your pink flushed cheeks.

"nothing a little sleep can't fix" he says while holding you closely, kissing your forehead at you laid there fast asleep.

#jeno smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct dream smut #haechan smut #haechan x reader #nct

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sqvishii · 7 months ago

Note

Ok Everyone talking about Silver cheat the reader or the reader cheat Silver. But I want to up the ante of pain and angst:

Imagine a reader (for this scenario fem Reader) being Silver's wife. That they both live in the kingdom of thorns having a happy and comfortable life. Although the reader could not return to his world, she was at least able to build a life in TWST with his current husband

So Silver, being one of the main guards of Mallues and the son of General Lilia. In some way or another he is someone who has a certain degree of power in the kingdom due to his position and lineage. So it certainly wouldn't be unusual for someone ill-intentioned to want to get something from Silver (either by stealing or getting forbidden information from the Draconia family or even Lilia) The point is that said person had Silver in his sights as he was technically "the least powerful" (Mallues being the king, Sebek being half-fae and Lilia being a former war general). Whether for any reason they manage to discover the traitor (Silver's work)

But said person manages to escape and is now searching for the Kingdom. The ill-intentioned person, wanting to take revenge on Silver, decides to take away what he loves most. So upon hearing rumors that Silver has a wife who some claim has no magic. The traitor finds the house and murders the reader.

Silver along with other guards are patrolling and looking for the traitor. But he has the feeling that something bad is happening so he tries to call the reader and try to inform her about the situation. But no one answers...even though he has dialed almost 25 times, his wife does not answer his calls. Panic-stricken Silver runs towards his home. Only to find his house damaged and his wife dead on the floor.... Silver gives a cry of pain that echoed throughout the forest. Silver who didn't rest until the damn thing was found

When the traitor is captured by orders of the king and his right hand is executed to death. The now widower who discovered that when his wife was murdered she was newly pregnant ...Now she is buried in the back of Silver's childhood home. Now the happy little home is only inhabited by a lonely knight who never remarried or had a family. Sometimes the home is visited by three faes who take care of their lonely human. 💔

Silver, who at the end of his days never took off his wedding ring and was buried next to his deceased wife's grave. Centuries later the small abandoned house but curiously the graves are still cared for and always have small flowers around them.

STOP THIS ANGST

will the both of you still meet in the next life?

silver wished, his last days were nearing as he stood above your grave, a fresh batch of your favorite flowers in his hands.

silver vanrouge and you. such a beautiful relationship bloomed between the both of you in which silver just couldn't help but fill his journal whenever he spent his days with you.

you made him so happy. so in love like a lovesick puppy who awaited your every order.

he remembered when the shyly held your hand during the first month the both of you were dating in night raven, lilia always chuckled at the two of you and always teased him about it.

now, you're gone.

and heavens did it hurt.

it hurt. extremely; the worst part? you were pregnant with his children.

he knew you were going to surprise him with the news once he got back home, that lopsided grin on your face as you excitedly jump into his arms, he was always there to catch you.

how badly he wished he went home when that gut feeling hit him.

instead of the sight of you with that giddy smile, your radiance and basically just you in general,

he saw you, laying on the ground as the bloody pool underneath you had spread around.

writting the last page of his journal with his signature, he buried it near your grave, how badly he wanted you to read it, how badly he wanted to see that smile on your face and the blush that burned on your cheeks once you saw the years he took to finish that journal for you.

but the least he could do at the end of his life was to have himself buried near you.

years have passed and the house was already withered. despite that, the poeple who walked by could only be left confused at the sight of the flowers growing in between the two graves.

a new era set in stone, silver had heard of a book about a man who spent his life writing his journal dedicated entirely to a single woman, he heard the story was pretty heartbreaking, really.

the plot was basically the man, being in college and finding the one he loved, a woman who was magicless, years passed and he becomes one of the main guards of a fae kingdom, though a traitor was among them.

that said traitor killed the woman without the man knowing, and the plot continues. though, silver had read only a quarter of the book.. he felt like he already knew what happened, as if he was the said man in the book, ironic.

having to be dragged along with his father and brothers to a museum, he could only find himself staring at a portrait, a man whos features looked exactly like his.

'silver vanrouge.'

..huh. weird. same name, too. apparantly, this was the man in the said book he read a few days ago.

.. he could only wonder who was the woman he fell in love with.

searching around the museum without lilia knowing, he eventually found the portrait that was actually just next to the mans. whoops, he didn't notice.

there was a lot of people looking, in awe of the beauty of the painting. he was too, the woman was breathtaking, no wonder the man had fallen in love with her.

going to the front, he saw a girl who looked exactly like her.

"..-ver? silver?"

".. [name]?"

lilia and malleus could only fist bump in the background, finally reuniting the long lost lovers once more.

#!! squish writes #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #silver twisted wonderland #silver twst #silver x reader twisted wonderland #silver vanrouge #silver x reader #silver vanrouge twst #silver vanrouge twisted wonderland #silver vanrouge x reader

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dittanyinbloom · 2 years ago

Text

Study Habits

A continuation of Note Taking.

Ominis Gaunt x fem!MC, no specific house, 2.5k, fluff, Sorry to put Sebastian through this. Suppose he has you all to blame for wanting a part two.

.🪶📜🪶

To say your head was in the clouds would be a giant understatement.

Class was a complete blur after that. Ominis had kept to himself and fallen asleep as though nothing had gone on. You remained alert, not able to shake the phantom feeling of a hand squeezing above your knee. Four digits digging into your flesh, almost possessively while his thumb swiped back and forth. How he managed to be demanding while remaining breathtakingly gentle, you would never know. The things it made you feel were obscene, and in public no less!

You’d followed him like a puppy after class, though, that was no different than other days. This time you noticed your attentiveness, neediness, but despite how embarrassed and overwhelmed you felt, you couldn’t help but follow at his heels until you were forced to part ways for your last classes.

“Sebastian is going to want to see those notes in the library later,” he called over his shoulder on his way to Arithmacy.

You weren’t planning on showing. How could you, knowing what you know now? Spending the evening hiding under your covers wouldn’t be so bad. Or perhaps you could sneak out to the Forbidden Forest again and take out some of your nerves on an unsuspecting acromantula.

But by the end of your last class, you were entertaining the idea of going to the library. If you showed up late enough, Ominis would have given up and left for the Slytherin common room long before your arrival. Sebastian alone was something you could handle, and then he could report back to Ominis about how completely normal you seemed, how unbothered you were, aloof, nonchalant! All of the totally calm and not at all flustered words.

While your mind was planning the excuse for your fashionably late show, your muscles were working on instinct and memory. Just as you were coming to, you had already begun your ascent up the staircase to the second floor of the library. Classes had just ended, meaning you had gone straight there. You stopped with three steps left to go, realizing your mistake. In your defense, your mind was still a foggy mess. All the scenarios you had been playing out to prepare yourself were displayed through a gray haze of confusion. And if you dwelled on it too much, your train of thought fell off its tracks and started replaying that damned moment in class.

“What do you think you are doing, Mrs. Gaunt?”

Oh, why did he have to say it in that reprimanding tone? The one he always had whenever Sebastian, and by proxy, you were getting into things you were not supposed to. The way his voice echoed in the Undercroft when he got angry always made your knees feel weak. You were known for being quick to agree with him, too. Sebastian teased you for it relentlessly.

“If he told you to jump, you’d ask how high.”

“Shut it, Sallow.”

“You got here fast!” Sebastian commented when he finally looked up from his book. He was reading, of course, and like always it wasn’t something in the Hogwarts curriculum. Books seemed to be his escape from the scary thoughts swirling around in his head. You couldn’t judge. It was a much safer option compared to how you intended to battle a swarm of spiders to rid yourself of inappropriate thoughts.

Seeing Sebastian alone was usually a red flag for disastrous outcomes, but today you welcomed his solitude and took a seat across from him at the table he claimed nearly every day. Maybe you could leave before Ominis showed. Your plan to avoid him was still full steam ahead, it seemed.

“Yes, just wanted to drop off the notes for you. I have to meet with. .,” Quick! Think of something! “-Professor Fig!”

“Uncovering more of that ancient magic mystery?” Sebastian presumed.

“Precisely.” You took out your roll of parchment and handed it over. Today, you had been far too embarrassed to make any unnecessary doodles, so you had no qualms about Sebastian just copying the work himself.

“I can’t wait to hear about it. Much more exciting than History of-,” Sebastian cut out the moment he unrolled the parchment.

Amidst all the urgency of planning your timely escape, you forgot about the exact reason you wanted to leave. Ominis’s hand on your thigh, insistent that you cross out your last name and correct yourself. And you had done it too, almost as obedient as one would be under the imperius curse. Then, you had spent the rest of the period wishing you hadn’t listened so quickly, because as soon as your name was crossed out and his written diligently in its place, his hand was gone from your thigh. Every second of the last two hours you spent fighting the urge to replay the moment in your head. It had been futile, of course. Ancient Runes was terribly boring in comparison to your imagination. You craved to experience that feeling again, how his skin over his knuckles went taunt while grabbing you, how the fabric around your thigh bunched as he swiped his thumb, how your heart threatened to leap out of your chest.

“MC Gaunt? Surely my best friends wouldn’t have run off and gotten married without me.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth twitched in an attempt to refrain from smirking, but you could see the gleam in his eyes. Mischief was brewing.

In a flurry, you took the parchment back from the boy and began to roll it up, insisting, “You didn’t see that.”

“What are you going to do? Obliviate me? What’s done is done. At least let me copy down the notes. Don’t worry, I’ll write my own name on mine.”

“Sebastian. .,” you hoped the use of his first name and the desperate look in your eyes would make him at the very least pity you. It backfired pathetically. Knowing how embarrassed you were only seemed to add fuel to his flame, and Sebastian was always itching to burn things.

“Is this why you were being odd the other day and reading them out?”

“I-“

“Are all of your history notes like this?”

No, most of them were worse. A thousand times worse. You would melt into a puddle if he saw some of the things you wrote.

“No! Now, if you want to borrow them, you’ll let this go.”

Sebastian crossed his fingers over his chest, promising, “Don’t worry, this stays between us. Anyway, it’s been a while since you’ve been in my debt.”

“Good, now, if you’ll excuse me, Natty is waiting-“

“Thought it was Fig?” Sebastian snorted. “You really ought to study the art of deception. Dunno how you managed all the loyalist and ashwinder nonsense this far without it.”

“Think you are deceptive enough for the three of us, Sebastian,” Ominis declared as he finished the spiral staircase. “Sorry that I’m late. What have I missed?”

“Just Ranrok and Rookwood talk. The usual,” Sebastian said smoothly, shrugging for good measure before sending you a wink.

“Well then, I am not sorry,” Ominis corrected as he took a seat and then patted the chair beside him. “Have a seat, and let’s get started. I hear this goblin rebellion in particular has innovative war tactics.”

You fell into the chair beside him, avoiding the amused look on Sebastian’s face. “I already gave Sallow my notes to copy, but that Transfiguration essay is due tomorrow. Mine could use another read-through.”

“Thought you had to go meet up with, who was it. . Garreth?” He might be keeping your secret, but Sebastian could still have a bit of fun.

Ominis’s nose scrunched in disgust. “What are you meeting Weasley for?”

“I’m not.”

“Good. He is only trouble, and you get into enough of that without him singeing off your eyebrows.”

Jumping at every opportunity to heighten the insanity of this conversation, Sebastian chimed in, “How do you know he hasn’t already singed one off? MC is looking quite ridiculous as of late.”

Ominis frowned and reached out for you. The back of his fingers lightly grazed your warm cheeks before he found confidence in his placement and held the side of your face. His thumb swiped over one of your eyebrows before moving his fingers along the other to find them both intact. “Merlin, Sebastian. Don’t lie to me like that. I had half a mind to hunt Weasley down and hex him to next week.”

“What can I say?” Sebastian leaned back in his chair to stretch. “I’m a world-class jester.”

“Class isn’t a word I would use to describe you,” you quipped.

“Funny coming from somebody who is no-showing Weasley right now.”

“Enough, both of you.” Ominis put his hand on your thigh as if it was a warning. “Less bantering and more studying. I would like to pass at least a few O.W.L.s.”

What surprised you even more than the warm hand enveloping your thigh was the awkward cough across from you. The table may have been blocking his view, but Sebastian could follow the line of sight and make an educated guess on where Ominis had placed his hand. Suddenly his freckled cheeks were turning a deep shade of pink, matching exactly how you felt.

Lucky for both of your sakes, Ominis retracted his hand to open up his textbook, seemingly not picking up on his best friend's discomfort. He quickly got lost in his essay with a soft frown forming before admitting, “I hate Transfiguration. Do you know what Professor Weasley said the other day about my teacup? That I have to envision it. Merlin, felt like an eternity of silence before she realized her mistake. Then afterward she said I don’t have to practice it if I write two extra inches. Basically, I’m being punished for her inability to think before she speaks.”

“That’s awful. She’s given me four extra inches and three detentions for no good reason,” Sebastian whined.

“You transfigured Leander into a bird,” Ominis deadpanned.

“Yeah? And? He deserved it. Weasley only punished me because she favors the Gryffindors.”

“Leander shit on my desk,” you recalled, “It was disgusting. I think the detentions are well deserved.”

“I’m not the one who shit in your desk.”

“No, but you’re the one who turned him into a bird.”

“Surprised you even noticed the bird in the first place with all your tedious note taking.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from muttering under your breath, “Bastard.”

Ominis raised his eyebrows. You and Sebastian were often bickering, but you rarely ever used such a malicious tone. “I don’t have to separate you two, do I?”

“You might need to if your wife keeps trying to set me on fire with her eyes.”

Oh, how you wanted to tear him to shreds. In fact, your body twitched, reaching for your wand. Ominis felt you jerk beside him and skillfully grabbed your forearm just in time. His voice was tender, but he was still chastising you, “Come now, you know we don’t hex outside of the Undercroft. Besides, it’s just Sebastian. He merely enjoys riling people up. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

“Fine,” you agreed bitterly and set your wand on the table with a loud click, making sure to have it point toward Sebastian so he knew he was on thin fucking ice.

You had expected Ominis to release you after agreeing to his terms, but his hold lingered. The pads of his fingers shifted until they found the pulse in your wrist. Knowing your heart rate must seem alarmingly high to him only made you more nervous. Then his hand trailed up to your hand. Fingers lacing with your own.

“You stopped breathing. Are you okay?” There was a genuine look of concern across his features. It reminded you of how he doted over you in the Scriptorum. You felt awful for making him worry, but your mouth couldn’t exactly form words at the moment. He squeezed your hand gently, offering comfort.

“Merlin, Ominis, she looks like she’s about to keel over. Maybe try asking a girl before you hold her hand,” Sebastian chastised.

“Oh,” his defeated tone as he released you made you swoon. He hadn’t wanted to let go. “I’m sorry. How rude of me.”

“Nearly killed her,” Sebastian said with a chuckle.

“It’s okay!” You insisted.

Ominis frowned. “I just thought since. . . Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s okay, really. There’s no need to ask. Don’t listen to Sebastian.”

The culprit snorted across the table, mumbling to himself, “Yeah, do go around taking my word for it, I’m just the one being forced to witness you having a stroke.”

Your wand snatched your wand from the table. “Shut it, Sallow.”

“You’d risk detention with Scribner for me?” His heart flew over his chest. “Mrs. Gaunt, I’m flattered.”

Ominis sighed heavily, now understanding the true root of the tension between you and Sebastian. “So, you know about how she’s taken my name.”

Your mouth fell open in shock at how casually Ominis stated such a thing. He had made it sound as though you were officially married. Taken his name, Merlin. Sebastian grinned maniacally and leaned forward with his elbows on the table as if ready to hear the latest Hogwarts gossip.

“Oh, you already know about her notes? Intriguing. How long have you known?”

Now it was Ominis’s turn to turn pink as he admitted, “A couple of months, I suppose.”

You covered your face with your hands, mumbling into them, “Sallow, you promised you wouldn’t tell.”

“I didn’t tell! Ominis brought it up.”

“After you called me Mrs. Gaunt!”

“Is that not the name you go by? Because your history notes say otherwise.”

“There is no need to be embarrassed by it,” Ominis promised, holding his palm upright for you to take.

Which you did, greedily and without coaxing. This second time around you were prepared for the sensation and were able to keep a level head. Well, perhaps level wasn’t the right word since you were shaking to the point of vibration. This time, you wanted to prove that you were okay with his touches. You planned on swiping your thumb across the back of his hand or you humming in content when you squeezed him.

Ominis did not let you get that far. As soon as your fingers interlocked with his, he was pulling your hand to his lips and leaving just a feather of a kiss against you.

“And that’s my cue.” Sebastian’s chair ground against the poor flooring with fever as he stood, collecting his things. “You two have managed to soil my favorite spot in the library. Cheers.”

“Am I not allowed to cherish my wife in public?” Ominis questioned with a devilish smile. Your stomach was doing flips.

“Just snog in the privacy of the Undercroft like normal human beings, and for the love of Merlin, send me an owl first so I know not to be there.”

a link to the final part

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #my writings

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domreader-headcannon-scenarios · 11 months ago

Text

This image does so much to me, like I love it, I love the thought of leaving him like this at the mercy of random devil in some bar or someshit to humiliate Gabriel…

Gabriel was pitiful, he wanted you to forgive him, upon the angels coming to the conclusion to turn to you instead of there missing God, they’d all come flocking to you for forgiveness to which you forced peace between them and demons to ensure they’d both be safe and more importantly.

You could finally go home.

The only angel you had a personal hatred against decided to show up in Hell. Unannounced, he dropped to his knees, pleading with you to forgive his wrong doings. You honestly were baffled he’d had the guts to show up to you after killing your best friend.

You wanted to make him suffer, but not wounded, you were going to let him go but given he’s dumb enough to come back, you needed to stop that.

And you didn’t need to be kind over it, after all, you’d never see him again.

With the help of Satan you got all you needed, you were going to humiliate and punish Gabriel. You got Satan to dress him up in the special ‘gear’ you chose for him.

Gabriel was standing awkwardly afterwards, he was surprised when you ‘checked’ to make sure he was dressed right. The ruby red panties you’d gotten him fit quite well, though they left little to the imagination (maybe that’s why the angel couldn’t meet your gaze afterwards.

The thin metal chains decorating him fit snugly, almost like a harness. The collar got tightly on him, you’re sure Satan did that on purpose. You show him the next accessory. A gag.

The angel’s wings flared at the sight of Chains, he backs up a few steps. Right as your getting frustrated at the thought of chasing him, Satan forces him on his knees by grabbing a fistful if his hair. “Why don’t you fuck him up before we whore him out?” Gabriel’s eyes widen and as he opens his mouth to speak, you shove the gag in.

You tied the gag firmly to keep him quiet. “Satan pick him up we are ready to go.” You grab the chains, carrying them as Satan threw the angel over his shoulder. Gabriel struggled and reached to remove the gag. Before you could correct him, Satan dropped him and took one of the chains, tying Gabriel’s hands and feet firmly behind his back before lifting him again. Gabriel still struggled, even trying to vocalize a complaint with the gag.

“If you keep struggling, angel cakes, I’ll leave you tied here.” Satan warned, to which the angel froze and obediently stopped. Gabriel looked to you with puppy eyes. Maybe it was the excitement, but apart of you wanted to give him a kiss.

You resist the urge and let Satan lead the way. You held the door open to the bar, watching Satan noticeably hesitate deciding if he wanted to hit the angel in the door way. Upon entering you noticed demons leering at the angel, a few whistles echo even with the music blaring.

Satan dropped Gabriel on a booth table you sat at the center, with Gabriel’s head basically in your lap as Satan and a few random devils helped tie the angel securely. The angel is left with his legs dangling over the edge of the table, a whimper escapes him, barely audible over the music, though it was clearly directed at you as he stares up at you. You pat his head. “Don’t worry, the demons will take great care of you, we are in Abaddon after all.”

You slip on his ‘horns’ while Satan places on his ‘wings’ as Gabriel struggles against the restraints, a muffled hiss escapes him as Satan gropes him, in a showey matter, he rubs Gabriel’s limp member, you nodded up to him. To the angels relive he stopped and stepped back. Satan took a deep breath, then bellowed.

“Hey! Citizens of Abaddon! This right here,” He gestured to the angel. “Is here for entertainment purposes only, until closing time, your free to use this angel as you please!” Satan shouted so loud your sure anyone outside the bar could hear him. Gabriel visibly stiffened when all eyes were on him, he whined, looking up to you once more for mercy, despite his punishment not even starting.

You watch one of the devils approach and he waste no time, grabbing the bottom part of Gabriel’s dress shirt, ripping off the half the shirt in one fluid motion. Gabriel let’s out a muffled yelp, legs protectively pressed together as he yanked on the restraints. The devil easily forced the angels legs apart, he held them like that as another devil approached and poked at the angels limp member.

“Do you think he’d like to flipped over to face Solomon’s descendant?” The smaller demon half joked. “The way he’s looking at them, I bet he wishes they were touching him!”

The devils laugh, the smaller on unzipped Gabriel’s pants, exposing the panties. There’s silence for a few seconds before more devils join in on the laughing.

Gabriel tenses as they poke and prod and his sensitive parts, until he’s left hard, cock half exposed, clothes teared leaving little protected, the least damaged item on him was the panties. One of the devils reached into their pocket, taking out a small handful of money and pulling back Gabriel’s panties enough to slip it in.

“Thank for the show, Cutie.” A clearly drunk devil stood over him, intentionally leaving the cash pressed against the angels most delicate parts as he felt up the angel. The demon looked up at you. “Is he yours?”

Without missing a beat you say. “Yes, and he’s been bad, use him as you like.” With that the poor angels swarmed, you watch in amusement as the devils felt him up, prodded him and clawed at his exposed parts, you catch once a devil had their feel, they leave embarrassingly low amounts of cash in his panties, and shirt.

Gabriel cries out, visibly trembling and when you look down, to your amusement a devil at licking his clothed cock as it’s forced to stiffen under the overwhelming attention.

#nsft #sub gabriel #gabriel x reader #dom reader #whb #sub whb #what in hell is bad #I wanted to do more but I’m scatterbrained #and tumblr deleted half of it :’)

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bluecollarmcandtf · 1 year ago

Text

Trying Them on for Size

My stepdad's eyes rolled back as my friend leapt into his body. Thanks to my distraction, he had a clear jump, and the possession was instant. The beer in his hand didn't even slip as a new guy took over the thick hunk of meet.

"Goddamn, this guy is big!" my stepdad's voice rumbled in uncharacteristic glee, "My arms feel like a ton heavier with all this muscle!"

"I...I cant believe it worked," I stammer, still processing the fact that Sam, my best friend, is inside Paul, my jerk of a stepfather.

Sam lifts a heavy arm and takes a whiff. "Wow, your dad smells rank! Does the pig shower much?" he groans and laughs, "What'd you say this idiot does again?"

"Mechanic, and he's not my dad," I answer, still trying to get over my nerves, "How's it feel...to be in him?"

"Man, he's so muscular and dense. I mean, I can feel how heavy he is, ya know? He's like really sweaty and kinda gross too, but I feel like I could beat the shit out of anyone right now!"

Sam takes a swig of Paul's beer, making the body look just like the alcoholic stepfather I knew and hated. Normally, I'd avoid the guy at all costs. He'd usually only speak to me in grunts, and that was only when he wasn't ignoring my existence. Now, Sam was using his mouth to yap off like an excited puppy.

I think Sam notices that I'm still a little tense, because he stops staring at his massive arms and puts the beer down. Paul's body steps right against me and grabs my hands as he looks down into my eyes. My stepdad would certainly never have done this before.

"How you doin, man?" Sam asks, but I can't help but feel like Paul is talking.

"Good," I lie, "This is just so surreal."

"Well, what do you want to see your old step daddy do for ya?" he asks playfully, "The jerk is at your whim, dude."

"I don't know..."

"Come on, sonny boy! Wanna watch as daddy Paul gets on his hands and knees and crawls to you?"

Sam pilots the muscular body to the floor, while staring longingly up at me with Paul's normally hateful gaze.

"Wanna see your big bad old man, stick out his tongue and lick your shoes?"

Before I can react, Paul...I mean Sam...has stuck out his tongue and started dragging it up the length of my sneaker. God, the sight of my harsh stepfather licking my shoe is incredible! He'd be so humiliated right now.

Sam pulls away from my feet and up to Paul's knees, "Maybe he needs to find another way to express just how sorry he is to his favorite boy."

Sam's lips hang open as he inches towards my tenting pants. My heart is racing with the anticipation of getting Paul's lips on my aching cock.

"I'm home!" a singsong voice echoes through the house.

"Shit, your mom!" Sam growls with Paul's hoarse voice, "I mean, my wife."

"Shut up," I snap, "Let's go to your house. We can get an early start to phase two."

My grizzled stepdad smirks, and we sneak out. Phase two involves Sam's biggest bully: his older brother, and he just got off work.

Michael was even easier to distract and jump into than my stepdad was. I may have been a little nervous, but after watching Sam do it at my house, I was practically a pro.

"Woah," I gasp in a much deeper tone than I'm used to, "Your brother is tall."

"Yeah, he was the basketball star before he graduated. Now he just bums around in the basement and beats me up after work," Sam explains.

I have to admit that it's a little weird to hear my friend complaining about getting picked on when he's wearing a super mature and muscular body. Though, Paul does look less intimidating when I see him from the towering height of the stud I'm in.

"Where were we?" I suggestively purr, getting a hang of using this guy's voice.

"Paul was about to apologize," Sam flashes a smile which looks foreign on Paul's face, "But I think you should make Michael apologize to me first."

I chuckle and take a step towards him, but almost stumble over the massive feet I have on.

"Damn, he's clumsy," I laugh, "Your brother deserves some sort of punishment, but what do you want him to do? Drop down and kiss your ass profusely or maybe bend over and take a good beating?"

"Both," Paul's mouth gulps as his calloused hands struggle to hide a growing hard-on.

"Or maybe you want to hear your brother grovel and beg for forgiveness?" I go on, dropping Michael's body to its knees, "Or maybe you can find a better use for this pathetic mouth."

"Shit, man!" I hear Paul's voice whine, "We're definitely going to make these straight assholes screw each other! But then we have to take them out tonight. They need to be put through something more public!"

"Oh I like that!" I moan from inside Michael, "Offer these jerks' bodies up for use at every gay bar!"

"At every gas station!" Sam excitedly claps Paul's hands together.

"They can pound Michaels ass while Paul tongue-polishes their boots!"

"Come here!" Sam growls.

"Yes, sir."

I jump into Sam's arms! Well, Michael jumps into Paul's arms. As electric as it feels, I can constantly sense that we don't own the bodies we are in. We're just puppeteering them.

That thought makes me wonder if Michael or Paul can feel all this somewhere deep down. It's a fleeting thought, because I'm already lost in the experience of making out with the jerk of a stepfather while Sam enjoys playing with his bully of a brother.

God, these bodies are hot. By the time, Sam and I are done wearing them, Paul and Michael will be the hottest pair of messes in town...

#mind control #gay mind control #male transformation #gay ai art #gay possession #body swap #male body swap #body suit #body theft

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sanjifucker42069 · 1 year ago

Text

Peaches

Sanji keeps finding you sneaking food. Just what are you hiding?

Note; girl, rats are cute, and Sanji’s association with rats melts my heart 🥺🥺🥺

Word count: 1416

The third time Sanji caught you sneaking food out of the larder is when he grew suspicious.

"Do I not feed you enough love?" He interrogated, You jumped, hands holding onto your small bag. It had to be past midnight. You turned to him looking mildly terrified, eyes scanning for an exit plan. Sanji quirked a perfect brow when you didn't respond. "Well?"

Nothing. You drew close the bag in your hands, peeking in one last time. You seemed so skittish tonight. What were you hiding? Sanji didn't have time to consider what before you shot upright, speaking a mile a minute.

"HAHAHA! I'm sorry Sanji, you got me! I was feeling extra peckish tonight HAHAHA!" You slapped at your leg as if he told you the world's funniest joke, before robotically moving to the door. "Well I've had my fill so I'll just be going back to bed. It won't happen again. Good night Sanji."

"Hold it." He ordered. You froze, a visible sweat on your brow. You let out a little whimper. He softened, and with a sigh, motioned to the table. With palpable dejection, you made your way to the table, ready to be scolded. "Love, you know I keep a thorough inventory of our food. Normally I'd think you were giving it to Luffy, but there's hardly any food going missing. So what's going on?"

You twiddled with your thumbs. "I was just a little hungry." You were still avoiding his gaze. Sanji wasn't convinced.

"Love, I'm not going to be mad."

"Yeah you are..." Your voice was soft, trailing off. Sanji sighed, pulling out a smoke and hurriedly lighting it. He took a long drag to calm himself. Why would you ever think he'd be mad at you? He honestly felt a little heartbroken that you didn't trust him.

"Love-"

Squeak.

You flustered. Sanji narrowed his eyes, blowing out a plume of smoke.

"What was that?"

"My stomach?" You tried, clearly nervous.

"Try again."

You sighed, bringing the bag up to rest on the table. He saw you fiddle with the drawstring. Upon hearing you hum, he stared, seeing you looking at him through lidded eyes. "Promise not to be mad?"

Yeah yeah whatever to get you to stop breaking his heart with those puppy eyes, he thought. Instead he said, "I could never be, love."

You undid the drawstring. Opening the bag another squeak rang out, echoing in the silent kitchen. You cringed. For a few seconds nothing happened, and Sanji could feel himself growing antsy. Then, a small grey head popped up, whiskers twitching.

A rat!!?!?!

"Her name is Peaches." You muttered. Sanji was shocked, staring at the little creature before him. 'Peaches' seemed to stare back at him, holding her dainty paws in front of her as she rose to two feet. Sanji noted the small yellow ribbon adorning her. And, was that a tiny bandage around her ankle?

"Huh." He mused, taking a drag. As he blew another plume of smoke, the rat squeaked.

"I'm sorry Sanji. I knew you'd be mad if you found out we had rats, but I swear it's only Peaches, I found her on the ship last week. She had a bad ankle. I saw her crawl onto the ship from the docks. Normally I'd put her back but she was hurting and....I just couldn't leave her there to die."

Peaches moved closer to Sanji, staring at him. If Sanji fed into his delusions he could swear the rat was studying him.

"She's clean I promise!" You cringed at how loud you were. Moving to a quieter tone you looked at Peaches. "She had a bath. She's actually really chill."

"So she's why you're sneaking morsels?"

You nodded. He sighed. Sanji weirdly felt his heart swell. You'd save a little rat on death's door? You were a pirate. Your gentleness always stood out to him, but the way you pet the little rat, cooing at it had him feel his heart race. You reached out and grabbed his hands. He stared at the gesture, cigarette hanging from his mouth limply. He dragged his eyes up to meet yours, startled at how determined you look.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop sneaking food. But I won't get rid of Peaches." You shook his hands for emphasis. "I promise she won't come into the kitchen! Just...please don't tell anyone."

"You want her around? Even if I don't?" He asked. You met him with a fiery stare.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. But yeah... You're dear to me, but this little creature deserves empathy too, and she's not hurting anyone." Peaches squeaked as if to back up your claim.

Out of all the scenarios, you didn't expect Sanji to give you that soft smile and remove a hand. You watched with bated breath as he instead set his sights on Peaches, holding his hand out.

Peaches sniffed his hand experimentally. Clearly she judged him to be safe, as she crawled into his hand. Your heart stopped at how soft Sanji looked. He spoke around the cigarette, staring down at the little rat.

"You're too sweet." His eyes flicked up to yours. "It doesn't worry me. So long as she isn't a nuisance in the kitchen, it really doesn't matter to me. It's sweet that you are so dedicated to her." Peaches crawled up Sanji's arm, settling on his shoulder. He gave a lopsided smile. Sanji removed the cigarette from his mouth. "She's cute. Y'know some of the first meals I ever made were for rats."

You stared at him. "Really?"

He laughed, a faraway look in his eyes. "Yeah, they're cute, and they're not picky eaters...but let's not talk about that" He peeked towards Peaches. "So what's your favourite then, miss?"

When Sanji looked back at you he was stunned at how wide your smile was, tears in your eyes. "She likes cake, it's not good for her. She does like apples though."

"Apples?" He laughed, disbelief clear in his tone. "Not Peaches?"

You blushed. Sanji felt his heart skip a beat at your blush. "Oh. There was a book I read as a kid, it had a rat named Peaches."

"Hmm, an apple cake then? I'll make you one when you're better Peaches to celebrate, okay?" He reached back over and grabbed your hand. You stared into his eyes, their soft warmth drawing you in. "Love, you're too nice, y'know? I don't know any other pirate who'd cry over a rat." You started to bluster but he shushed you. "It's not a bad thing. You're a good person."

Sanji went to take a drag from his cigarette when he felt tiny hands snatch it from his grasp. He gasped, offended. The two of you watched as the little rat skittered down Sanji's arm, cigarette bitten sideways.

"Peaches!" You scolded. Peaches pointedly avoided you, taking the cigarette back into both hands and stubbing it out. You laughed. "Oh Sanji, I'm so sorry. I guess she doesn't like smoke!"

Sanji joined in, laughing freely. "Guess not. Lucky she's cute. You too." You felt your blush darken. Sanji rose to his feet, giving you a wink. "How 'bout some tea? Maybe something for the little one too, yeah?"

You nodded, heart missing a beat at ‘little one’. Sanji rounded the table, pulling you into a side hug. You felt him place a featherlight kiss on your hair. As quick as it started it stopped, and the man headed to the kitchen. The domesticity was killing you. Peaches gave you a pointed look. You stuck your tongue out at her.

"Sanji?" You asked quietly. The man hummed in response, placing the kettle on to boil. "Thank you. You're a good man."

Sanji smiled. "You're too kind, love."

You rose to join the man, quickly glueing yourself to his side. Sanji welcomed you in, arm wrapping around your shoulder. You snuggled into his side. The two of you basking in each other. You pulled his tie lightly coaxing him to your level. With a smile, you kissed his cheek gently. Sanii blushed lightly, stunned by your actions. Behind you the kettle whistled. The two of you sharing the same thought:

I could get used to this.

And so the three of you settled in for a late night, an odd storybook tea party: a gentle chef with a hidden past, a sensitive pirate with a heart of gold, and a little rat with a dislike of smoke.

#sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #i actually formatted this one properly lmao #vinsmoke sanji x reader #opla x reader #one piece x reader #i couldnt help myself i had to post this one too ;-; promise ill spread em out more from now #fluff #ill go back and format good boy properly in the morning its 5am rn lmaooooooo

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noroi1000 · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! Can I request something like the day you became his mate (werewolf au) but this time with gojo? I really enjoyed the geto fic!! You're really an amazing writer you got me into jjk again so thank you for that. I hope you have a wonderful day! You can delete this if you aren't taking request with the honored one event (which I really love)

I want to have a Mate

Author: I am very glad that you like my works. I appreciate it very much. And I love you all Anon-chan. I don't accept requests for the event, but I did it as a normal request outside of the event. You wrote to me just when my requests were open, so there was no problem. This is pretty short because I still have a lot to write for you. But I tried to make it good

Werewolf Gojo x reader

Warnings: Short NSFW

Words: 1,4k

Summary: Gojo wanted a mate. And I really wanted to feel what it was like. And suddenly you appeared, Shoko's friend. He couldn't miss the opportunity when he probably found a mate.

"I want to have a Mate."

"What?"

"You know... Moments when you have a mate are nice..."

"Satoru, are you suddenly talking about wanting a mate? What happened to you?"

"You want a mate too! Say it straight! Everyone wants a mate! I want one too!"

"You know it's not fun?" he asked with a smile. "Mate is the person you will be with for the rest of your life."

"I want mate..."

"I know... You said yourself that everyone wants a mate..." He leaned on the bench they were sitting on.

"How am I supposed to find a partner?" he asked.

His ears appeared on his head, as did his tail under his hoodie.

Something he liked to do because it looked cool.

His ears drooped slightly as he was slightly sad about it.

"You have to search. You can't be sure who it will be or when. You just have to walk among people. Your intuition will guide you."

"Do you think it'll be a woman or a man?" White Hair asked for no reason.

"Who?" He looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"My mate."

"Heh... Satoru, no one knows who your mate will be! You'll know when you meet her or him. Besides, does it matter?" He chuckled lightly.

"Only a female mate will give me puppies in the future, right?"

His dark-haired friend widened his eyes.

"Who are you and what have you done with my friend." He pointed at him.

"Hah?'

"The Satoru I know never talked about having kids!"

"Isn't it obvious that I'd like to have a Mate and then maybe puppies?!"

"My friend is coming. So I'm leaving soon. I don't have time to spend all day here." He stood up, rubbing his temple.

"T-Wait!" shouted Gojo, getting up.

Geto turned to look at him.

"When will I know that someone is destined for me as a mate?"

He smiled slightly.

His friend was probably old enough to think about it.

Every one of their species wants a mate.

And that comes at different points in time.

The fact that his friend talked about mate now only means that he really wanted to.

"The first time you met." He said. "I met my mate in a store. And then I had to work to prevent her from getting married."

"At least you have a mate..." he suddenly leaned over his friend's shoulder and looked at the woman who was walking towards them. The dark haired man smiled. "Who is it?"

"Suguru." The girl called as she approached them.

"Hello." He said with a smile.

"Shoko told me to go with you, so let's go." You pointed to the road behind you.

"Where are you going?" asked the White Haired.

"Oh, Satoru, that is (y/n), we met when Shoko invited us to her birthday party. She is a friend of Shoko. (y/n), this is Satoru."

"Hello." You smiled slightly at him, looking at the ears on his head, which turned more forward as you spoke to him.

"We're going to Shoko. She probably wants to beat me again for something. We'll meet after that."

White Hair's ears couldn't stop hearing your voice.

His eyes couldn't stay away from you. He felt his heart beating faster.

His tail involuntarily began to fluff and waved slightly from side to side.

He felt something pulling him towards you.

And his friend's words echoed in his ears. Mate can be recognized so suddenly. When least expected...

Did he just...

Did he just meet someone who is supposed to be his mate?

"We can talk?" he asked, turning his head to the side.

Suguru nodded his head, also telling you to wait a while.

Gojo remembered you.

At Shoko's birthday. You were pretty cool. But he didn't talk to you much.

And now... Are you his mate?

Standing behind a tree, Geto looked at his friend's strange behavior.

"Satoru, what's going on?" he asked, watching its tail.

"You said mate can be found anytime..." he said more quietly, and held his tail in his hand as he still couldn't stop waving it.

The black haired man froze for a moment.

"Wait... Did you just...?!" he took a step back.

Gojo turned his head to the side, a tiny blush on his cheek.

"Did you just see your mate in (y/n)?!"

The white haired man crossed his arms over his chest.

"Shoko will kill you!"

"I was at her birthday, I already met her... So maybe..."

"But-" he muttered, not knowing what to say.

"You also met your mate suddenly." He groaned, and suddenly came out from behind the tree. Going your way.

"Satoru." he called.

He turned around for a moment.

"You can't just walk up to her and say she's your mate!"

"Why not?"

"Because she's not a werewolf, she's a human."

"You also have a human mate."

"It's the same as with a normal relationship. You have to get to know her and make her feel something for you. You can't just walk up and do what you want!"

"Tch... Fine..." he groaned, looking offended and sad.

"Do not be sad. I know she'll like you. As long as you're nice to her. And you won't be talking about mate and puppies right away."

"Do you really think so?!" He said suddenly pleased.

"Invite her on a date, meet her. But don't you dare earn her anything. Shoko will kill you and me for this."

"If Suguru found out... Ah... He'd kill me..." He moaned before connecting your lips with his.

As he pushed his hips into yours. Feeling you tremble under him.

Surely you were with him faster than mate Suguru with him.

This was what he could be proud of.

Because after only five dates alone, and about three times together, you became a couple.

Until finally he told you that you are his mate. Because he sensed it from the very first meeting.

He kept putting his face against your neck as you cuddled, and when he finally explained to you why he was doing it, you made a difficult decision.

He loved you sincerely.

You fell in love with him too.

The fact that he's a werewolf made him fall in love with you. You were attracting him as his destined mate.

That's why you were in a difficult position.

Once you agree to be his mate and not just his girlfriend, you'll be with him for the rest of your life.

He was already jealous and acted like a brat most of the time, not letting you go where he couldn't and knew there might be another guy.

You don't mind him and you love him.

But being his mate will mean he won't see the world outside of you. That he will only care about you. He will look after you.

Especially when you heard from Suguru that you have to be careful because Satoru is neither an omega nor a beta werewolf. Satoru, like Suguru, is an alpha.

And alphas are always on guard and sometimes overprotective of their omega partner.

In your case, it was you.

Suguru told you to think about it. Because if you do, you will be "bound to Satoru for the rest of your life and nothing will ever separate you."

You had a difficult choice.

To listen to your friend who wanted to take care of you, or to listen to your heart telling you that you love Satoru and are able to live with him for the rest of your life as his mate.

You chose what you wanted.

That's why you were lying under a tall, handsome, white-haired werewolf who spread your legs possessively to show the dominance of the alpha male over the omega.

You won't be able to fully understand this Alpha-Omega just yet. But when you spend the rest of your life with him, you'll learn even more.

You moaned loudly as he drove his hips into yours, holding your bodies in that position.

"He told you to make a choice... Huh..." he laughed, licking your neck before his sharp teeth came out and grated against your skin. "And you chose what you wanted, didn't you?"

You shivered as he pressed harder into you.

"I could have chosen... Between keeping you at a distance so I had time to think... Ngh... Or going to you right away..."

"And a good girl chose to be my mate~." He smiled at you with a toothy grin. "Little omega mate for big, strong alpha..."

All you heard was his chuckle in your ears and your heart beating.

"You chose very well." He laughed in a low voice, and looked at your neck, licking his lips. "I wanted my mate. And now I have. And I will have forever."

And suddenly he dived in to grab your skin on the side of your neck in his teeth to bite and leave marks.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo #jujustu kaisen #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #gojo smut #werewolf au #werewolf gojo

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minniepetals · 1 year ago

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cry me a river | the reckless

— summary: in the face of danger, you run right into it

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 4.7k

— warnings: slight violence

— PART 24 / previous post / masterpost

It’s about one in the morning when you sneak out of the room with gentle steps, making sure to not wake the one who sleeps on the armchair beside the bed, his soft little snores still heard until his presence disappears with the closed door.

The hallways are as silent as it was back in the room, the only thing heard is the sounds of your footsteps echoing through, and as you close your shawl closer to your body, you look around to make your way to the familiar steps that lead outside where the greenhouse stands.

The doors are left unlocked so you let yourself in and step through the glass doors, closing your eyes for a moment to breathe in the scent of the greens all around you.

It’s during lonely moments like this you feel your heart craving for some sort of familiarity. Not just the presence of your Reapers but for the presence of your manor itself.

For years you spent hating that place more than anything because that was where everything happened; where you were born, where you grew up, watching your mother hating you with every fiber left in her, chasing after your father’s attention, shedding tears on top of gentle shoulders, trapped behind the steel door of a white room, training, meeting good people, meeting bad people, everything.

Everything.

You can’t recall when the feeling of dread and disdain turned to eyes seeking for it, feet yearning to step back into it. Maybe it was the moment your father died, when the dynasty he worked so hard to build broke down into pieces like a house of cards, when you took over and made it into the home that it is now starting to feel like.

You returned to it after Leehyun, locking yourself in the comfort of your room, knowing that if you were to step outside, your Reapers would be right there with the smallest calling of their names. It served as your escape when it used to be the very reason you hated your existence.

The manor has become home and perhaps the only reason it’s able to be such a thing is because of what you’ve built it to be.

You want to escape, to return to it and simply hide in it and have no one bother you until you’re ready to step out yourself.

On the bench where Alexander sat this morning, you take your seat and close your eyes, trying to manipulate your mind into thinking you aren’t in Norway, that you’re back in Seoul, back at the manor, and not somewhere far, far away.

It’s exhausting doing this, your revenge plan. It’s exhausting having to put up a front, exhausting having to freeze up and recall unwanted memories that you wish could bury forever in the back of your mind.

But buried memories can’t always stay buried. They return, eventually, in time, whether you’re prepared or not.

You can’t tell how much time has passed but when you feel something against your feet accompanied by small little pants, you open your eyes to find the little puppy that accepted you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

You look down at him and he returns your gaze with a tilt in his head, tail wagging, and swirls about in a circle once before using his nose to poke at your leg again. He reminds you of the children at The Academy, how they’ve never been scared of you despite wanting to always push them away with your cold demeanor. It’s like Kiwi sees right through you, just like them, and in your silence, you pick up the small little thing to bring him onto your lap.

His tail wags a little more and when you run your hand through his fur, he gets a little more excited and affectionate.

Besides the children, there’s someone else you see in him.

“You remind me of someone,” you say as he nuzzles into the feeling of your palm. “Though unlike you, he wasn’t too fond of me in the beginning. It took some time for him to warm up but once he got to that point, he wouldn’t stop following me around.”

You fall silent again, thinking, remembering, reminiscing, and your fingers stop playing around with the little puppy on your lap.

The memories aren’t as hazy as they used to be, they’re a little clearer, a little closer to home. You can feel it in your heart when something feels like it’s just stabbed it, and in your stomach when you feel a little drop.

“I’m sorry for being selfish,” a voice whispers into your ear. “I’m sorry for only ever thinking about myself.”

But the thing about that is, you cannot be sorry for something that is within your nature, you cannot be sorry for wanting to put yourself first in a cruel, cruel world. When everything feels wrong, when the world feels like it’s always against you, when you do not know who to put your trust in.

If you were a little more mature and a little more brave, would you have been able to tell him the things you want to say now?

Things like; it wasn’t your fault. Things like; it’s alright, and you’re okay, and rest well.

Rest well, rest well, rest well.

You lean your head forward to the sky, gaze closed, as if hoping the things you spoke within your heart could be heard from him wherever he stays.

And as the silence continues, you feel your consciousness eventually slip away as your shoulders loosen their tensions with the feel of the little puppy resting well in your lap.

You didn’t realize it, that you had fallen asleep, but you know yourself waking when you feel a presence closing in and immediately opening your eyes to meet the old man who has a blanket hovered before you, his eyes falling a little surprised because he hadn’t expected you to wake up so easily.

“It’s good to put your guard down a little, you know,” Alexander says with a small chuckle as you accept the blanket to drape it behind you.

“I’ve learned my lesson with that,” you answer him and scoot over to the edge of the bench in order to make room for him.

He takes his seat beside you though leaves enough space in between and you’re thankful this man is observant. Kiwi’s awake but remains quiet and still, head resting against his paws with his tail swaying side to side.

“Do you have anyone you can trust in this world?” Alexander crosses a leg over the other and you look at your watch to see that it’s about four in the morning.

You managed to sleep in an unfamiliar place while knowing there weren’t any Reapers that could come to you at any second. How odd.

“There are always chances someone can stab you in the back.” Maybe the presence of Kiwi helped you. “It’s never a good idea to put your full trust in anyone.”

“You say that but one day you might come to know it feels rather nice putting unconditional faith in someone.”

You shake your head, brows furrowing. “Even if that someone has a good heart and good intentions, it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.”

There’s only been one person you know you can truly trust but he’s gone from this world, only ever being able to see him again when he wishes to visit you in your dreams. He’s the only person you’d ever allow to hurt you over and over again, even if it isn’t the real version of him.

Mister Butler can hate you and betray you but you’d let him do it again and again and maybe that’s because in your heart, you know those versions that the nightmares give you are simply from your own imagination and that he’d never truly come to hate you. He’s incapable of betraying your trust. Someone like him, who stayed by your side when he didn’t have to, isn’t a man who can have his heart easily swayed into hating you.

“Are you tired of betrayal?”

“I’m tired of everything,” you admit and he looks at you up and down, eyes narrowing slightly.

“And yet here you are, out in Norway.” Alexander knows a thing or two, he isn’t dumb, and you aren’t someone to think otherwise. He wouldn’t be in the position he is now if he was, and you don’t deny what he implies in his words. “You run straight into the very things that make you tired.”

“Because it is the only way I can feel alive.” You look on straight ahead before you, watching the pretty sky that pokes out from behind the plants of the greenhouse. “Otherwise I’d be in my room, rotting away. There is no purpose in running away, there is no purpose in leaving things be. My father did not leave this world for me to simply carry on as if he never existed.”

Some may take that as you carrying on your father’s legacy and whatever Alexander is thinking, you don’t care too much for it because all it matters is what you know. You didn’t kill your father just to stay silent for the rest of your life. His death was the beginning of everything.

Your turning point.

“And no one can stop a mind that’s already been made up.” Alexander nods, understanding, and doesn’t push for answers, but perhaps in the back of his mind, he’s a little curious about you and your goals and aspirations in this life. What drives you, what made you into the sort of person you are today, but Alexander is wise unlike many old men you’ve met throughout your life, so he doesn’t question things beyond your boundary.

And so he diverts the subject once again, turning it to the puppy in your lap.

“Perhaps you should adopt a pet of your own, to help you ease your mind a little,” he tells you with a fond gaze at Kiwi. “Humans can be quite disappointing, but a loyal pet will stay loyal for the rest of its life. Not to mention they’re the greatest comfort when someone needs it.”

Maybe that’s true. Maybe you should turn to a dog rather than humans in your time of need. Humans are disappointing creatures after all. But, “It’s too much of a hassle,” you say. “I can’t even take care of my own self properly, it’d be unwise of me to try and take care of another being.”

“...Is that so?”

It becomes a daily occurrence; the talks in the greenhouse, and soon you come to realize that Alexander isn’t one to let just anyone into his greenhouse. The doors that are usually locked during hours when one should be asleep are kept open, and perhaps that’s because he’s come to realize that you don’t sleep a lot, at least not in the house of a stranger, so he leaves them open for you to visit when you need your space.

And in the morning, around four or five AM when he awakens, he’ll come along and strike up a conversation and the two of you will speak about the things he brings up. Things like Seoul and of the Reaper gang, sometimes he’ll ask of Master Kitagawa, other times he’ll ask how far your skills go.

You speak to him in vague terms, careful not to tell him everything, but he comes to know that you were an only child, married once in an arranged marriage, but divorced. He doesn’t seem too surprised by that fact probably because everyone knows this happens all the time.

And in him knowing a little more about you, you come to know a little more about him as well.

Like when Kiwi came into his life and the fact that he’s had other pets throughout his lifetimes before but they’ve all died and left him.

You asked him why he continues adopting pets when he knows they don’t live as long as humans do, why he hurts himself over and over again, but he simply smiles and says that sometimes being able to love is better than being lonely. That it doesn’t matter how many times he has to watch them die and that he’d never regret loving them.

Alexander believes in reincarnation, that the souls of his first puppy dies and returns in the form of the other pets he’s had, so he’s never truly lonely, and something about that, believing in such a thing, though it sounds a bit absurd, is a little bit beautiful in its own way.

If you could believe Mister Butler died and returned through someone else, it’d be a nice delusion to live in, and despite the fact that there have been one or two guys that have reminded you of him, the truth is, no one can ever be Mister Butler.

Not Hoseok. Not Mingyu.

Because Mister Butler is like family. He was.

Through your marriage with Namjoon, he was your older brother, but he always felt closer to a father figure to you, and perhaps that’s because your father was never there for you. Mingyu is closer to an older brother. A companion. A friend.

And Hoseok?

The one that got away.

The right person at the wrong time.

And because of that fact, you don’t allow yourself to be near him for too long, hence denying his companionship when Jungkook told you it’d probably be better if Hoseok were standing guard at your side rather than him.

It’s true, Hoseok would be better. You wouldn’t be as cautious towards him as you are of Jungkook, but it’s that exact reason that you cannot let him near.

You cannot let him shake your core, so you endure what you can and let Jungkook stay near you despite the constant reminder of what he did all those years ago.

It’s not entirely his fault but as you’ve said, it doesn’t hurt any less.

In your time getting closer to Alexander, he’s refused the appearance of Karl several times. Asher says if he has to, his grandfather will meet him elsewhere. Just not in the house. The guy has come to guess that you’re here because of Karl, and if he’s guessed it, maybe Alexander has too.

Though the old man never brings it up despite the plenty of chances during your greenhouse talks.

“Any progress?”

Dawn remains in the sky as ever and while Jungkook sleeps, you sit on the windowsill to take a call from the other side of the world. It’s a bit chilly to head out today so you stay indoors this time, making sure to keep your voice low.

“Plenty. It’s been quite peaceful these days, it feels a bit out of place.” Alexander’s kindness wasn’t something you expected the first day you walked into Norway. You expected things to be harder after meeting Asher but surprisingly, things are quite…easy, to say the least. “I have a feeling it won’t last too long.”

“No?” Namjoon sounds a little confused on his end. “Why do you say that? Should we come over earlier than planned?”

“No, don’t do that. Come as scheduled,” you say and look away from the window to the man who’s moved from sleeping on the armchair to the bed. It took some time to convince him initially but eventually Jungkook agreed to take the bed since you don’t really sleep anyway.

“You have something planned, don’t you?” There’s some suspicion in his voice and you want to laugh a little at how things are right now.

Who would have thought you’d be back on speaking terms with the man you thought you’d push away for good? But here he is, back and ready to give you his trust. You don’t know if he’s smart or stupid or both. Maybe there’s a bit of both, but it probably took some time for him to consider it, being as the whole thing was about his brother whom he loves very dearly.

Namjoon’s finally using his head.

Though you aren’t too sure if you like it so much.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nothing bad.”

“I don’t know if I can trust those words so easily. The last time you left the country, you disregarded your life just for that plan of yours.”

“Listen.” You roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

There’s a pause on his end before he speaks again. “You didn’t assure me that you won’t do something reckless,” he notes and you internally click your tongue, “which means that feeling of the peace not lasting for long is you actively causing that to happen.” When you don’t respond, he goes on. “Will you stop being so secretive and let me know what you’re thinking? Maybe then you won’t be in the same position you were with Leehyun, and me and my boys and the Reapers will know how to help you.”

Well.

“You can’t keep hiding, Y/N. Stop being so reckless, you’re too reckless.”

“Watch me.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “That wasn’t a challenge.”

“No?”

Another sigh and he knows he can’t win. “Just…if you decide it’s better for me to go over sooner rather than later, let me know. I’ll be waiting. Right here, just a phone call away.”

“...Sure.”

You don’t think too much about it. You don’t want to think too much about it.

So when the cloud gives way to the sun and it shines higher in the sky, you finally take up Karl’s request to have tea and catch up, deciding you shouldn’t keep running away from what you’re trying to face.

You have Yeonjun stay by your side this time, rather than Jungkook, in case Karl says something out of line and Jungkook will hear more things than you want him to. You stay in the garden of Alexander’s mansion, keeping a little distance away from the building itself, and with the feel of eyes from a window behind you, the conversation begins.

“I remember him,” Karl points at your escort when he takes his first sip of the tea. “Jun? Joon?” Yeonjun doesn’t make an effort to fix him and simply remains quiet. “Right, never one to talk but always by your side.” His eyes settle back on you, a small glint of mirth in them. “You have quite the loyal companion.”

“Yes..I do.” You ignore his gaze to take a sip of your own tea, keeping your replies short.

“I’m still a bit hurt you didn’t reach out to me about your father’s death. We were good friends, you knew that.”

Of course you did. “I apologize, it slipped my mind.”

“Slipped your mind?” He raises a brow, unconvinced. “Hmm…and here I thought, I left a good impression in those four months I stayed in Seoul.”

You did.

You did indeed leave an impression that will last a lifetime.

“Maybe I should have tried harder?”

That mirth in his eyes. Again.

You want to punch him.

“How did he die though? The man I knew isn’t someone who would have easily died and he would have updated me about his health had he fallen ill.”

“He was betrayed,” you say, not batting an eye, and Karl puts his cup down after hearing that.

His eyes are blown out. “Your father? Betrayed? And he didn’t see that coming?”

“They were smart.”

“Even still..” He can’t believe it, though you don’t blame him too much. The father you both know is not someone who’s easily trusting of others, therefore he’s always right there to pick out someone who will betray him before they can execute their plan.

That’s why it took so long to manipulate him into believing you were a daughter full on worshiping his ground without an ounce of betrayal in your veins. That’s why your masterful plan took so long. You had to convince your father into believing he had won in manipulating you to his side when all along, you had been waiting to stab him in the back. Facing a man like him, smart, calculating, a manipulating gaslighter who thinks the world centers around him requires more than just simple brains and planning.

It took years to execute your plans and even then you feel like you could have done better with everything. For one, not letting anyone see what had happened, aka Bangtan. But what’s done is done. Dwelling on past mistakes is just stupid and a waste of time.

“And what about you?” When Karl points the finger at you, his gaze narrows, brows slightly furrowed. “You’re his daughter, his perfect little doll. You didn’t see that someone was plotting your father’s death? Is it not your job to protect him?”

“That’s right,” you give him nothing to fight against, just simply accepting the accusations placed upon you. “I failed in protecting him. I am an incompetent daughter who should have done better.”

Karl stands up, running a hand through his hair. “Your father did all that he could for you and still, you–”

When he looks at you again and meets the gaze you send him, his word stops mid-sentence. Your stare isn’t threatening, it isn’t a glare, nor one that is meant to scare him off, yet something in them lies a hidden threat either way, were he to continue speaking. Karl, seeing that, lets out a chuckle and he closes in on you, patting you on the shoulder before simply leaving his hand there.

You look at it for a second before giving him the attention he wants as he leans in, nose inches away from you.

“Your father created you into the weapon that you are today, my dear little Y/N, and you’ve even been trained under Kitagawa, so why is it that you failed to protect him? Huh? Tell me.”

From the corner of your eye, Yeonjun moves slightly closer, though he keeps his distance and doesn’t dare to make a move unless you instruct him otherwise.

The breath against your face, the touch of skin burning through the thin cloth of your dress, the sides of your knees meeting one another, back straightening up, heels rising from the ground, fingers intertwined into each other, sitting on your lap.

You keep your eyes open, meeting his gaze, but internally you’re counting in your head and holding your breath, hearing the beat of your heart that might as well rip through your rib cages and past the barrier of your skin to physically beat widely before Karl himself.

Maybe he hears it, maybe he can feel it, but whether he does or not, he has no will to move away from you and you know Karl, he isn’t dumb. He knows exactly the effect he has on you right now. He saw it, knows just how you felt all those weeks ago when you were in the living room and he touched you.

He knows and doesn’t care one bit.

Just as he was all those years ago.

They never change.

“What is it that you want from me, Karl?” He doesn’t fix you into calling him uncle this time. “Do you want me to repent on my knees and beg for forgiveness? My father’s already six feet underground, it’s not as if he’ll hear me now, but as his close friend, if you wish for me to do just that, I will. Just for you.”

There’s malice in his eyes, a scoff that leaves him when he watches you, and finally, he moves back. Just a little. “You’ve gotten quite bold, haven’t you? Now that your father isn’t here to teach you a lesson.”

“And if I have? What will you do about it?” You push back, leaning forward, challenging him despite your body screaming at you to run away. “Go ahead and do whatever you’d like with me, there’s no one here right now that can stop you. I can tell Yeonjun to pluck his eyes out right now and he’ll do just that. He won’t say a word and he won’t move unless I tell him otherwise.”

At the mention of the boy, Karl looks over between you and him, and then something in him lights up slightly as if he’d just remembered something. As if he’d just realized something.

“That’s right...what loyal companions…” He steps back, releasing your shoulder, and tilts his head back as he laughs obnoxiously. “Is this all about that little boy I messed with? Him?” The laugh rings a little louder, a little more crazed. “You pretend you’re so cold and have no feelings and yet here you are, chasing after me all the way from Seoul, just for a boy, the second you got the chance. If your father were still here, he wouldn’t have let that happen, but now that he’s gone…-”

He pauses again, and after hurling over laughing, stands back up straight again as the laugh dies all too abruptly. So you stand up from your seat, the corner of your lip curling over as you notice just why he’s gone silent.

By now the tea is slowly getting cold but you don’t care much for it as you stand tall, hands held together before you in a formal manner.

“The person who betrayed him…” His eyes narrow. “Who was it?”

“Oh uncle,” you mock that title, mirth in your eyes, “I think you know exactly where that answer lies.”

Danger.

Something screams danger when his gaze darkens in realization.

And yet you seem to only be attracted to danger as it is the only thing you’ve ever gotten used to seeing every day. The danger of being born as a mafia heir, married to a mafia powerhouse, spiraled into a hellhole you cannot ever seem to escape so you run towards it.

Directly into the fire.

Into the danger.

Provoking your enemies, knowing exactly just what their reactions will be, because danger seems to be the one thing in your life that will never leave and abandon you out of nowhere. The only thing you can forever trust to catch you were you to fall blindly into it.

And blindly you fall, trusting it to come.

And comes it goes, directly your way.

Never disappointing.

Namjoon called you reckless and for the first time in forever, you might have to agree with him. Because being reckless means not caring for the consequences to come after committing a rash action. The reckless ones do not care what happens to them, they live off adrenaline, they run towards the fire when everyone else runs away.

Towards the danger despite knowing there will always be a chance they may not survive. Unheeding, stubborn, thoughtless, careless, negligent, imprudent. Unwise, unwary, incautious, hasty.

A fool.

But misguided and left on their own. Lonely, abandoned, hurt, isolated, rejected, forsaken. An outcast and unloved, a disappointment and broken.

Broken.

A broken little soul whose heart lies empty with a hole pierced through the middle.

You are reckless. You are broken.

And broken things do not know how to save themselves, they only know the warmth of the fire. That is the only thing they can rely on.

So you stay within his vicinity, within Karl’s reach, watching, simply standing there, keeping still, as if keeping vigil. Like you’re just waiting, just expecting for something, anything, the inevitable, to happen. And when it comes in the form of a harsh, harsh slap across the face that has your body turning over to the side and having to hold onto the table to keep your balance, you can’t even say that you are surprised.

It feels like being in the presence of your father all over again, in the face of danger, of a manipulator, of a gaslighter, of an abuser.

He returns hard and so vividly in the form of anger, in the form of a ghost, a spirit whom you see standing right behind Karl. He stands as still as ever, hands held behind his back, simply watching.

Watching.

While you stand before him in front of a man he’s using to command orders over him. Using violence through others because father never raises his hands, father never puts in the effort or strength or power into physical forms. He does it through others, he commands through others, he hurts through others.

Watching until he’s satisfied.

But he’s never satisfied. He’s never satisfied.

And on your end, you can do nothing but accept it all willingly.

There is nothing else you can do, there is nothing else that can be done. It is like being in his presence all over again. Yeonjun, the Reapers behind you, standing still, told to not do a thing, to not move an inch, and your father behind the violence, keeping silent with a deadly gaze.

You return to the past.

You see him.

He’s right there.

And Karl raises his hand again.

691 notes · View notes

stayconnecteed · 9 months ago

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❪⠀🪐.⠀couch cuddles⠀𓏔⠀seo changbin⠀❫

☆ㅤseo changbin x afab!reader ( valentine's collab oneshots )⠀★⠀3.4k words

synopsys: everyone knew that changbin and you had met at ikea. you had been friends for years, and yet he never got tired of repeating the anecdote that had brought you together. there was one part he had never told you, though: he had asked his parents to buy that green sofa on which you had been sitting together in that first meeting. that very same couch you always ask cuddles in when one of your dates goes wrong.

note: not happy at all with how this turned out, and i know it's a little bit angsty before all the fluff but happy valentine's day cuties !!

Everyone knew that Changbin and you had met at Ikea. You had been friends for years, and yet he never got tired of repeating the anecdote that had brought you together that afternoon when you had gone to the Swedish shop with your family. It had been a very chaotic first meeting, as it could only be if it had happened between the two of you, but there was one part he had never told you. Whenever the subject came up he would ask you to narrate how it had been, with that pout and puppy eyes he knew you couldn't resist, and he would just stare at you, a smile curving his lips, hiding a part of your story that you didn't know.

You always started your story with a little context, saying that you had just turned sixteen, that your parents had decided to move when they found out they were going to have another baby, that it was a weekend in January and you hadn't started high school yet, that you had planned to travel to Gwangmyeong, where your grandparents lived, and visit the Ikea that had opened in the area. And Changbin couldn't help but stand still when he heard those words, because he knew what it was you were going to start talking about, and he loved to hear it from your lips, so he would command everyone to be quiet, to let your voice echo in the silence as you spoke.

And then you explained, under Changbin's attentive gaze, how you had driven to the shop after lunch, parking as close to the entrance as possible, and how you had to take care of your two little siblings, then aged eight and five, while your parents talked to each other about what furniture to buy for the new home. You dwelled on the details, making eye contact with Changbin from time to time, prolonging the moments before you first spoke, creating some expectation, and he knew it, but he didn't mind because he enjoyed it as much as you did.

And when you had described how small you had felt in such a big place 一the biggest Ikea in the world at the time一, when you had let slip that your parents had been so focused on shopping that you and your siblings had been left behind, when your face was a shadow of the worry, the panic you had felt at the time, then you broke the news: your brother, the troublesome eight-year-old, had gone missing. You, at sixteen, had found yourself in a maze of kitchens and living rooms with your younger sister clinging to your leg, your heart pounding, and the uncertainty of whether you would be able to find Doyun in such a large space.

Changbin's heart always twisted in agony at that part of the story, just as it had done when, already desperate, you had approached the first boy of your own age you had seen 一he一, whispering if he had seen a kid with your brother's description. He had hated seeing you like that, absolutely distressed, on the verge of tears, pretending in front of your little sister that Doyun was playing hide-and-seek. Both she and you had looked at him as if he could miraculously find him, with a blind confidence that had made him assure you that he hadn't seen him, but that he would help you look for him. He had whispered to little Jia that it would be fun, and had taken her hand, turning to you only to see you smiling hopefully at him.

At the time, and he had never acknowledged it, he hadn't cared for Doyun. He certainly wanted to find him, that was what your eyes and the values his parents had taught him screamed at him, but at the same time he longed for the way your face had relaxed at the sight of him, when he had told you not to worry, that he would find him. How calm you had been, just as you always said you were, knowing he was by your side. And with your sister on one side and you on the other, you had walked the corridors, passing where you had been over and over again, checking every possible hiding place, whispering your brother's name for him to hear.

But you always came back to the same place, the green sofa where you had asked him about Doyun. And no sign of him. You checked your phone obsessively, fearing that your parents would ask you about him and you wouldn't have the answer, and at one point, Changbin simply proposed to take a break. He indicated that you could exchange numbers, and that while you went to buy something from the shop's cafeteria, he would take another walk, in case there was any more luck, and he would text you if he saw him. You declined, his mouth suddenly going dry at the thought that he had gone too far, but then you announced in an exhausted voice and slumped shoulders that you were the one who should look for him, that you were the one who had lost him in the first place, and that Doyun wouldn't go with a stranger as Changbin was to him, anyway.

You had sat on the couch, your head in your hands, all the frustration and fear building in your chest, your pent-up emotions on edge, on the verge of overflowing, and he busied himself entertaining Jia with some cute cat pillows lying around as he squatted down in front of you, resting a trembling hand on your knee. He had spoken softly to you, like to a wounded animal you want to help, telling you stupid facts about his life, anything you needed to calm you down a bit and face the situation from the ease of a clear-headed mind. You had covered your face, hiding your silent cry, and whispered to him that he didn't need to waste his time with you, that you were a horrible sister, and an inconsiderate stranger by dragging him into your problems.

And then, in one of his most precious memories, you related how you had looked at him, tears glistening on your cheeks, and he had frowned back at you, as if you had offended him, before announcing, in the most serious tone you had ever heard from a sixteen-year-old boy, that you were the best sister in the world. And you had let out an incredulous laugh, closing your eyes and resting your forehead on his shoulder, and had kept silent as he muttered that only the best sister in the world would worry so much about Doyun, searching for him without Jia knowing what was going on, to protect them both. Only the best sister in the world would talk to a boy she didn't know, despite her shyness, just in case he could help her. You really were the best sister in the world.

They were words you repeated from memory, reciting them just as he had whispered them to you, and they always made anyone who heard them sigh. It had been almost like a fairy tale, you in his arms, asking him to show your sister the cafeteria as you took one last walk, wandering back down all those corridors you'd been down before, only to return to the green couch where you knew Changbin was waiting with your sister, but who had also been joined by Doyun, who was listening to Jia laugh at how much fun the hide-and-seek at the Ikea had been.

You had let out a breathy sigh, moving towards your little brother, scolding him for disappearing, while he protested that he had been fiddling with the tablets in the warehouse area 一a place you had hardly been to at all. Then you had made both Doyun and Jia promise not to leave your side for the rest of the afternoon, and when you turned to Changbin, all he could think about was that he didn't want to leave you yet. So when you opened your mouth, he interrupted you before you could utter a sound, asking if you could see each other again.

And you had blushed, unused to that kind of attention, and nodded shyly, the silence falling between you. You had cleared your throat, fiddling with your phone, not knowing what your next move should be. And Changbin had taken the lead again, pointing out that you should ask your parents where they were, and that he would accompany you to them if you wanted. Then you always told, with the same luminous smile you had given him at that moment, that you had walked together to the bedroom section, shoulder to shoulder, your siblings playing in front of you, always under your view, and it was then that you had begun to know each other, to develop that bond that had been born when you had asked him for help and he had not denied it.

What he had never told you was that he had seen you in the parking lot, as soon as you walked in. He had never told you that he couldn't stop looking at you, the way you nodded attentively at your parents' words, or how your eyes lit up when you glanced at your siblings even when they weren't looking at you, how you smiled at the silly things they did, how you crouched down to talk to them. He had been so dumbfounded that his sister had teased him, threatening to come over and talk to you. And every time he saw a glimpse of your white hoodie in the aisles of the Ikea, his heartbeat quickened at the possibility of talking to you. When you had approached him with that face he had seen so happily turned to distress, he had lacked the time to bring the moon down on you if you asked him to.

Nor had he told you that the only thing he had asked his parents for, although he never asked them for anything he didn't need, was to buy that green sofa on which you had been sitting for a few minutes, and which had gone from his children's playroom to the living room of his flat once he had become independent, and which you had never shown any signs of recognising. After that first meeting you had discovered that you lived in the same city, which had facilitated your weekend meetings, and the blossoming of a friendship that stayed with you until years later.

He had lived your last years of high school with you, studying together for the hardest exams even if you went to different institutions, attending each other's graduations with a proud smile, spending summers at your home with him, to the point where your parents treated him like one of the family, and his parents did the same with you. He had watched your younger siblings grow up, caring for them with the same infinite affection as you did, and his older sister had taken you in as her little girl, and everything was perfect. You had been in the good stuff, even applying to the same university, celebrating his first major contract as your own, him coming to the opening of your shop and insisting on being the first customer.

He didn't understand how anyone could look you in the face and tell you that they didn't want to be with you. He didn't understand how anyone could see you and think you weren't the most beautiful person they'd ever seen. But most of all he didn't understand why he hadn't told you yet that he loved you. Because he did, of course. After so long by your side you had managed to get into his mind, and his heart, and even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to kick you out of his life. You were too deeply tangled up in him, to the point where everything you did affected him in one way or another, and your absence was the worst punishment. So he knew why he hadn't said anything to you, why he kept these secrets from you 一the fear of losing you was even worse than the fear of rejection一 but he didn't understand why he hadn't been more direct before the possibility of you saying no seemed so painful to him.

Because since he'd figured out what his feelings for you were, every Valentine's Day was pure torture. Especially when he couldn't be with anyone but you, so he spent them single, while you had kept yourself pretty busy all those years, with partners, or affairs, or dates or one night stands. You always seemed to be busy on February 14th. And when your boyfriend dumped you with any bullshit excuse, or your flings found another girl, or the date didn't go the way you'd hoped, then you'd come back home, defeated after another failed romance, and it was he who picked up the pieces and put them back together, who offered to get your favourite flavour of ice cream at two in the morning, who had seen the same rom-com film more times than he could count, who held you until you fell asleep and the cycle began once more.

And every year he allowed himself to hope that this time it would be different, that you would stop running away from your appartment for once, but every year the same thing happened again, and his heart broke just a little bit more. When he saw you that afternoon in that dress he loved so much, the same one he'd seen you wear for his birthday a couple of years ago, with the black tights that had a little rip in the back of the thigh, and those platform boots that showed off your legs and made you look slightly taller than him, he said goodbye to you in a quick cheek kiss that made his lips burn, and locked himself in his room. No matter how much weight he lifted in the gym, he was never strong enough to bear the sight of you leaving.

The plan was simple: put on his sound-cancelling headphones, work on his music until he couldn't keep his eyes opened, and pray he'd be asleep by the time you got back. He sat down at his desk, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall, and sighed before picking up his laptop. The screen read nine o'clock at night, so you'd been gone for over an hour. Now that you weren't there, he could leave his room to make himself some dinner, just to get back to his projects and stop thinking about you. At least that was the initial idea. Because it wasn't working. He kept remembering how you smiled at the feel of his lips against your skin, your still hands with the mascara bottle still between your fingers, and he wouldn't let himself forget that he didn't know who you were going out with, he hadn't reminded you to keep your location active in case something happened, that he'd be with you in a phone call.

So when he couldn't take it anymore, he got up, grabbed his car keys and took his gym bag. Maybe the physical exertion would make him tired enough to sleep, maybe if he stopped thinking about you so much he could focus on his life, maybe the fact that he didn't know about what you were going to do you was a good thing. But when he crossed the hallway ready to leave the appartment and looked into the living room, he saw you sitting on the couch 一that couch that meant so much in your friendship一 and he stopped. He walked slowly towards you, leaning against the doorframe, and watched you for a few seconds. You had taken off your boots so that you could put your feet up on the sofa, and you were curled up towards the corner where he always sat, leaving the gap he used to occupy, as if you were mourning his absence, your eyes fixed on your phone.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft, seeking not to startle you, waiting for you to make eye contact with him before continuing, "weren't you going out?"

Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, and for a moment Changbin wanted to confront the one who had upset you so much, to make him pay for making you sad. He saw you shake your head, straightening slightly, and pull your knees to your chest, curling into a ball.

"I couldn't," you whispered, swallowing back a sob.

"Did he stood you up?" Changbin asked.

"He..." you began, shying away from his gaze, your red cheeks making him frown, "he's not you."

"What do you mean with…? Oh"

"Yes," you chuckled, humourless, your laughter a sound devoid of emotion, your face falling as you realised that the surprise in Changbin's eyes could only mean one thing. "Oh. No matter how hard I've tried, no one has ever managed to be you. Not even close to what you mean to me, or how I feel about you. It's... it's not fair. But it's the truth."

"So, all this time...?" he asked, absorbing your every word, drawing in his mind a sketch of all he had missed out on because he had been too lost in you, letting the gym bag fall to the floor and crossing his arms, a shield between you, in case something went wrong. He had looked at the calendar, right? Today was Valentine's Day and not April Fool's Day, even if it surely felt like someone was pranking him.

"Not all the time" you pointed out, each sentence feeling like a stab in your heart, bleeding over your voice, as he stood in front of you, asking you about your stupid crush like he needed an ego boost, and not like you were opening up to him. "Not at first. You were the cute guy of the Ikea, a real friendship. You're my anchor, you know that. But when things started to change, I... I didn't deserve you. I never did. And even though I started dating guys, none of them were you. You... you were my best friend, Binnie."

"Were? As in not anymore?" then he approached you, squatting down in front of the couch, just as he had done so many years ago, resting a trembling hand on your knee. He had looked at you softly again, as he had looked at you once, but this time his eyes exuded a fear that he had never let you see before.

"I can't" you muttered, closing your eyes and covering your face with your hands, black tears of ruined make-up sliding down your skin. "Not when I'm in love with you, and I know you don't reciprocate my feelings."

And when he saw you look up, panic shining in your pupils, and he frowned back at you, as if you had offended him, it all felt like déjà vu. He told you, his tone dead serious, that you were wrong, and that although it seemed like you were reliving that anecdote you both loved to tell, you should never take his feelings for granted. You let out a disbelieving laugh, closing your eyes and resting your forehead on his shoulder, and silence fell over you both as Changbin whispered how much he loved you, that he hated that you had both suffered so much for a love that was actually so obvious, that you had been idiots with a lame communication, and that if there was anyone who deserved to be with him, it was you.

And he knew you were trying to take in his words, to memorise them, to lose yourself in his arms and never leave them. And almost like in a fairy tale, you asked him for a kiss, in that soft voice he would do anything for, and the gentle touch of your lips against his made him pull you on top of him, sitting on your green sofa. You sighed happily, perched on his lap, enjoying his warmth, the firmness of his hands on your hips, the soothing rest of his chin on your head, and Changbin watched you drift off to sleep, your heart beating along with his, savouring the moment.

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