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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months

Text

— SEMPITERNAL

SUMMARY : part II of gimme half. vanilla is a basic flavour. but sometimes it’s just the right thing for mornings like this.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), p in v, smut, unprotected sex, fluff

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : bring me the horizon song title. ah, the second day of January, getting closer to Dean’s bday, it will be the best day of my life or the worst. I have ocd (so does my mom) so idk what’s normal lmao Xxxx

It must have all been a dream.

She would never go to her neighbour’s house. Not when they were supposed to hate each other. Not when it was freezing cold. Not at night. Not close to Christmas…

He was very pretty though, in her dreams. Still, so pretty. Irresistible. Hot. Frustrating. Adorable. A million lovely things. It felt very real. So real.

His lips. All pink, warm, soft, and sweet. His hands. Rough, warm, calloused, and skilful. His skin. Freckled, covered in scars, tattooed, hot. God… she wanted that in reality, too. To feel it against every inch of her skin once more. She especially wanted what’s between his legs.

Were her sheets always this cold? This thin and… not downy at all?

If she could return to her dream. That would be nice. Making friends with her enemy, Dean… Well, making love is more what it was. Very rough, desperate, hot love.

She grumbled sleepily, lifting the sheet up her body. Trying to get her arms warm, to stop the cold from getting through the openings. Something stopped her, something hard behind her, and she didn’t want to wake up.

And wait… why was the window in the opposite direction?

She rubbed her bleary eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room, the beige and white bed sheets that were definitely not hers. The pictures and posters on the walls were unfamiliar…

She sat up on the bed slowly and twisted her body cautiously to peek at whoever was sleeping beside her.

Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped slightly.

Dean.

She shut her mouth and smiled, trying not to laugh at the events that occurred the night before. They were definitely not a dream. For her bravery, she deserved a treat. Maybe six.

He really did look pretty.

Those muscular arms holding his pillow, skin freckled and lightly tanned. The sheets clung tightly to his hips, that tiny, narrow waist of his. So jealous. And… oh, God, he wasn’t wearing anything.

His lips were parted slightly, pink and swollen from sleep, maybe from all the kissing they were doing the previous night. He had the prettiest lashes, so long, thick, curled naturally. What even was he? Those gorgeous freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. His messy hair looked so soft.

Peaceful. Relaxed.

The sunlight made him look even more divine. Honey and gold, a verdant forest, a soft flower in a meadow. Springtime in the winter. That was Dean.

She looked around his room, she was completely naked. Some warm clothes and fluffy socks to keep the cold at bay would be nice.

She opened his drawer to look for some socks, sliding the top drawer out. She blinked at the contents inside. A vibrating cock ring stood out from the other things inside, in rose pink. She chuckled. There were a few candy wrappers, jolly ranchers, unused condoms in the front, a steel gun over books. Cute. There were old movie tickets, a Bob Seger cassette tape, Crime and Punishment, Persuasion, The Lord of the Rings, and 11/22/63. He’s so hot.

She closed it quietly and opened the second one. One half had perfectly folded, plain black t-shirts and the other half had only white t-shirts. She pulled out a black shirt from the top and put it on carefully. She took a deep breath of the scent of the softener that remained and sighed. Yum.

She opened the third and final one. Finally socks. They were neatly organised, folded, tightly fitting in rows and columns. Blue penguin socks caught her attention, but so did the pink ones with otters, the purple ones with avocados, and the green ones with giraffes. Could he get any more endearing?

She picked the boring black ones at the back. What if the fun socks were special to him?

She got out of his bed, walking quietly across his very cute bedroom, and into the bathroom. His very clean bathroom.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Thank God for the shower she took with Dean last night. No raccoon face from her eyeliner this morning. But she was definitely sore. Good sore.

He’s so… hospitable. And a billion other things, too many lovely things to list. She laughed quietly to herself, turning the water on in the sink to wash her face.

Maybe she shouldn’t get too ahead of herself with these thoughts and feelings. Last night was fast, blurry, heated, and emotional. Things could change, she knew that better than anyone. Morning clarity. After sex clarity? Who knows.

It would be impossible not to have marks over her body after the night they had. She turned the water off, gently shook her hands in the sink, and used the shirt to pat her face dry. Curiously, she kept the shirt up, and stared down at her body.

There were bruises on her hips the shape of his fingers. And Reddish-purplish marks on her breasts, sternum, and stomach, even higher up on her collarbone. There were bite marks on her shoulders that stung to touch-

“Sorry about those,” Dean’s raspy morning voice made her jump. She dropped the shirt and crossed her arms over her chest, smiling timidly at Dean. She didn’t know why. After the hot night they had together, being seen naked the next morning should be the last thing to make her this flustered.

“I’m not getting in the way of your secret escape, am I?” He changed the subject, teasingly smirking at her. He pushed himself off the doorframe. Unfortunately, he was wearing a soft grey robe tied loosely around his waist, some grey slippers, and his hair was a cute-slash-sexy mess.

“No…” she replied softly, running her fingers through her somewhat messy hair. It still felt wet… maybe she should have stopped Dean from throwing her into his bed after their shower, but he seemed more than thrilled to bury his face between her legs. God, that stubble on his jaw felt amazing between her sensitive thighs.

“Good,” he mumbled tiredly, smiling down at her.

He was irresistible. She could already feel heat forming between her legs, wetness seeping from her entrance, and her heart pound quickly in the casket of bones the closer he got.

Maybe it was those pretty green eyes of his, the burning fire in his gaze simmering deep within the golden specks. He checked her out from head to toe slowly, shamelessly, devouringly. Why would he have any shame after the night they had?

Her body reacted to him embarrassingly fast. Like two atoms, she ached to be fused together with him. Being in his presence just felt right. It felt fiery, more now than last night, more than when he was asleep. When he was asleep, he was more than adorable, but now… She wanted him on her again.

Her skin burned like acid rain had dripped down over her body, but it was just his hungry eyes. It was the memory of his mouth, his tongue, his lips, and his teeth. All marking her, making her his own.

Her lungs ached for slower, deeper breaths as he sucked the oxygen from the room with that deep, husky voice of his. He left her breathless, with those soft eyes and tender smile.

All he did was put toothpaste on the brush he gave her last night. He smiled when he gave it to her, his fingers brushed against hers, like jumpstarting the dead battery of a car.

She tried to hide the sharp inhale when she took the toothbrush from him by biting her lip. He seemed to like her reaction, a smile tugged at his lips, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to and neither did she.

She watched him do the same to his own toothbrush and slowly, wordlessly, he started to brush his teeth.

“Cute cock ring,” she told him casually, and began brushing her own teeth. He almost spit out the toothpaste and saliva when he laughed, a very beautiful laugh that made her insides warm and melty like cheese in a burger, or butter on pancakes, or whipped cream on waffles.

She was hungry.

“You looked through my stuff,” he stated, a mouthful of toothpaste still in his mouth. He continued to brush his teeth, staring at her the whole time rather than looking into the mirror. His eyes were sparkling, and not just because of the cold winter sunlight.

“I was cold,” she shrugged, then spit out what she had left before continuing to brush. He spit everything out at last, regarding her with a smirk.

“Guess I shoulda been a better host.” Dean finished brushing his teeth and she did soon after as well, waiting for him to finish freshening up from the doorframe.

“You more than made up for it last night,” she grinned, catching the smirk on his face, the sudden dreaminess that washed over his green eyes. Her insides twisted excitedly and he finally looked at her with those soft verdurous eyes.

“Are you still cold?” He teased when he finished, reaching for her waist and gently tugging her forward, and away from the doorway. She shook her head ‘no’ and smiled up at him. “Too bad,” he hummed, biting his lip. “You chose boring socks,” he pouted, then leaned down to kiss her.

She smiled against his lips. The kiss somehow felt more… warm than last night, and… well, like the birth of a star. Warmth bloomed in her chest, like a flower kissed by sunlight in the morning. It was like being reborn, like breathing the cleanest air.

“I was trying to be considerate,” she mumbled when he pulled away from her lips. He tilted his head with a confused smile, and moved her backwards, leading her back to his bed.

“Considerate?” Dean slowly lifted the shirt, his fingertips teasing her warm skin as he slid it up her body.

“Read my mind,” she whispered, throwing the clean shirt on his desk when it was around her wrists above her head.

“I don’t read minds,” he grinned down at her, pecking her lips. She hummed softly, amused just because he made her smile, and untied his robe. He humoured her anyway, staring at her as she climbed onto the bed, her soft hands moving up his torso slowly exploring, memorising, worshipping. “You… are so cute,” he teased, leaning forward to kiss her again.

She pressed her lips against his, moaning quietly against his mouth. She pushed the robe off his shoulders and he threw it over the small, sage-coloured sofa he had placed by the window that was opened to her house.

“That’s not reading my mind.” She buried her fingers in his hair and began crawling backwards, her warm tongue tracing his plump lips. He cursed softly against her mouth, kissing her back with as much force, and climbed up the bed with her.

“I told you,” he panted, lowering his body over hers once her head fell onto the pillows, “I don't read minds.” She pulled Dean down, closer to her, arms circled around his neck, legs parted for his hips to fit perfectly in between.

“I think you see through me,” she whispered, lapping at the red mark positioned on his pulse, making him moan softly. She couldn’t believe she felt insecure about it at first, but now, it was hot that he could read her, that he could figure her out in seconds. For however long he's been hunting, she had no doubt he was much more clever than he led on.

“You think wearing a pair of what might be my favourite socks will make me… sad?” He tried, barely moving away from her mouth. She snickered upon releasing how ridiculous it sounded out loud, she nodded anyway.

“I’d be upset,” she shrugged, sliding her hands down his back, his taut muscles shifting beneath her hands.

“Exactly why I said you’re cute,” he told her softly, rocking his hips against hers. She shook her head in denial, dragging her lips back up to his. His cock slid through her soaked folds, teasingly nudging her entrance, tortuously rubbing her clit. “You hungry?” He asked, leaning on one arm placed by her head.

“Dirty intent with that question?” She teased, nibbling his bottom lip. He laughed deeply, pressing his cock into her, slowly pushing in.

“Wanted to make ya breakfast,” he huffed, moaning with her when he pulled out gently and pushed back into her warmth. “So… breakfast?” His hand travelled freely down her sides, tenderly brushing against the bruises on her skin.

“Only if you’ll make me breakfast often,” she played quietly. With a husky moan, he slid his hands back up her sides, thumbing her sensitive nipples. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, smiling at her words, the tightening of her walls around him taking him to the brink of delectable release and delirious insanity.

“Only if you’re mine,” he rasped, taking her wrist to slide his hand into hers, pressing it into the pillow, and above her head.

“Yes,” she whispered, squeezing his hand, slipping her other hand into his hair. He lifted his face to stare into her sincere gaze, brought his freehand between their bodies to rub circles on her clit.

“To breakfast or being mine?” Dean inquired, rolling his hips swiftly into her. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him close, and drawing his lips closer with her hand clutching the short hair behind his head.

“Yes,” she murmured, drawing a soft laugh from him as she pressed a deep kiss to his warm lips.

➥ summer’s stellar gaze

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@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld

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#dean’s 45th birthday celebration #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfiction

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teastainedprose · 1 month

Note

Homelander x fem!reader

Homelander cumming in a pair of readers panties and reader finding out and wearing them in public or to work around Homelander

No explicit sex, but- What if cum sock, but it's panties? I didn't proofread this. Undercooked smut, whore(affectionate) used.

Homelander is disgusting, is your first thought as you pick up a pair of your panties. They're crunchy. None of that discharge is yours. You make certain to wash that pair twice.

The second time it happens you're annoyed. Third time? You're resigned to your fate. Now? It's expected. It's not as if you can ask the fucking Homelander to stop fapping with your panties

Sometimes the panties are clearly coated in a suspicious glaze, others there's only the barest scent of him before you toss the panties into the laundry bin. Those you don't mind so much. For the most part, you're resigned to your fate.

Homelander is a territorial creature. The man likes to mark you in any way he can. Sinking his teeth in a little too hard. Fingers digging in a little too tight. Practically rubbing himself against you as if to mark you with his scent and of course making certain your always stuffed full of his cum.

Thus it should be no surprise that the moment you walk into the penthouse that afternoon?

Homelander pounces you, strips you, and fucks you as if he hasn't seen you in weeks. It was four hours, jesusfuck you needy little- It's no surprise that even after your rough fucking? -because this round certainly was a rough fuck He still manages to find time to soil your panties. The ones you had carefully taken off and set aside before going at it like animals not even a full thirty minutes ago. The lacey number that matches your bra and won't show a pantyline in the dress you plan to wear tonight. Those panties.

The crime is committed while you were in the shower cleaning up, as there's a charity ball you two must make an appearance at tonight. The culprit has already fled the scene, of course. Bastard.

You pluck up your clearly wrung out panties, inspecting them. A visual once over reveals that at least your lovemaking had robbed Homelander the ability to truly mark up this pair. At worst, they reek of sex and him. Even your perfectly average nose can smell Homelander on the fabric. His super-abled nose would be able to smell it a mile away, you muse.

You pause, eyes on the panties as you turn over that fact in your mind. A low chuckle escapes you as you wriggle back into the panties.

It doesn't take long to get dolled up for the event as you make yourself presentable post-shower. You're polished, clean, and looking flawless. You smile at your reflection in one of the many mirrors within Homelander's penthouse before making your way to the elevator.

As you enter the party, Homelander isn't hard to pick out. He's the one in the middle of it all with a flock of sycophants simpering about the supe's feet. They know by now to part in your wake, placid smiles in place that never reach their eyes. Yet, they bow and scrape to you as well. No one would dare give offense to you or get between the Homelander and his woman.

You glide into Homelander's open arms as he throws you a winning smile, finger crooked for you to come closer. You obey, sliding an arm behind his back as his cape flutters with the movement while he tugs you closer into his side. "Missed you," He breathes as he leans closer.

The moment Homelander registers what you've done is obvious to you. His pupils blow out and there's an imperceptible tightening about the give of your waist under his gloved fingertips. He inhales deeper, leaning in to ghost his lips over your forehead as he does so. To onlookers, Homelander is a chaste and affectionate boyfriend. Only you are close enough to hear the growl on his exhale.

You grin wickedly up to Homelander, mirth dancing in your eyes. "You just saw me, you know." You mutter as you tilt your chin up, regarding him. Idly, you start to trace patterns at the small of his back with fingertips. Given your cheeky mood, you slide your palm down and give his backside an affectionate squeeze under the cover of his cape.

Homelander has to bite his bottom lip, swallowing down an eager noise as he shoots you a dangerous look. The sort that says you're going to get it later. Your grin only grows wider, because the event has only started and you know Homelander can't escape yet.

There's a speech to give, investors to schmooze, and rich bastards to wring dry all in the name of charity. Homelander performs admirably, playing the perfect boy scout as with you draped on his arm. His hands never stray from your waist, endlessly chaste. You know it's because if he lets them roam further up or down, Homelander will lose control and then where would you be?

Well-

Enjoying yourself for certain, but you've never been one for public sex.

The hours crawl on and you can see your choice to throw Homelander's mess back under his nose is an effective one. The small twitches, how he keeps inhaling deeply any time he leans close, how Homelander can't help but nuzzle into your neck every chance he gets with a storm cloud in his eyes.

This'll be a fun night.

The moment Homelander is let off the event's leash, he's all but dragging you to the elevator and mashing the button to the top floor. He doesn't even wait for the elevator's doors to fully shut before he's on you with a growl. Homelander is hiking up your dress in a flash to see what's underneath. His suspicions are confirmed. Those are the panties he used to work himself off one last time before heading down to the charity event.

"I knew it. You little whore," He chides affectionately as Homelander backs you up against the elevator wall. Those hands are ghosting around the edges of your panties before he unceremoniously yanks them down.

"It's your mess," You shoot back, smirking up at him.

"M'gonna make you such a mess," Homelander purrs back as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, deftly lifting you up with one hand while the other works at the bucket of his belt with practiced ease. You laugh gleefully because Homelander is always a man of his word when it comes to properly ruining you.

#how many drabbles can I start with “Homelander is-”#homelander #homelander x f!reader #homelander x reader #homelander x you #x you #homelander smut #the boys fanfic #the boys smut #homelander writing #anon ask #ask #drabble #I don't know why the read mores keep MOVING in these asks

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abstract-crossverse · 1 year

Note

Can I have a oneshot where reader comforts overworked Hank? I really love your writing btw!!

Sure can do, thank you!

===========================

"Overworked" // [Hank x Reader, fic, fluff]

Hank sat at the trunk of the truck the duo had stolen for the trip back to base, and assuming he was exhausted was an understatement, even the funny one and the other one noticed and Hank knew that, but the two wouldn't dare point it out, at least for now until the smoker decided to open his big mouth;

Hank had just jumped on the trunk and plopped himself on the floor, unresponsive to Sanford and Deimos, not even a glance as Deimos attempted some sort of conversation. 2B was sending Hank on too many missions, way more than usual... Don't get them wrong, Hank is a very active Grunt, they're not the type to stay without a job to do for too long but this was just too much, even for them, it made them wonder if Doc was working on something bigger behind the scenes while they cleared way...

But that doesn't matter at the moment, right now Hank was just overly aware of everything touching their skin.. the heavy fabric of their coat, the leather and metal from their belts and ammo bags, their socks and boots, the mask, the bandana, the cold metal prosthetic against what's left of their face.. and the drying blood that drenched their clothes just made it all worse... They just feel so suffocated- it's been a while since they've felt like this- they never really figured out why they get so hyperaware of anything touching them sometimes and it just- uGH it almost drives them insane...

He groaned, hands shaking as he sat up and leaned against the walls of the trunk, looking out into the distance. He couldn't wait to get home, first, he needed to greet you- then put his gear to wash, and then spend time with you, the other two could report back to Doc, he doesn't care whatever that old man has to say he NEEDS to take a break.

Finally letting the world seep back into his senses only now did he realize the two were chatting, Deimos's obnoxious voice being the first thing to hit his ears, Sanford's rough laugh coming right after, rolling his eyes he leaned towards them

"do you drive any slower? When are we getting to base?" He questioned sternly, clearly annoyed they weren't 'home' yet "ey don't get ya undies in a twist, Hank, we're almost there, that communication tower was pretty far.." Deimos spoke, taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke out the right window

What a disgusting vice... Hank would've killed him already if they didn't work together... Sure Hank has smoked a handful of cigarettes in the past too. Still, he never let it become a vice, that's what grinds his gears about it, people who get too addicted to a stupid chemical reaction in their brains from plants, even with the knowledge that those kill you slowly, they didn't care, smoking kills, and if that won't, he will. Hank's crosshair scrunched slightly at the faint smell of tobacco seeping through his mask before turning his attention to Sanford speaking

"yeah, I can see the base from here, we'll be there in a few minutes."

"good." Hank said, leaning back against the trunk's wall and closing his eyes "eager to see yer 'partner in crime'? I'd be." Deimos chuckled at his remark, throwing the cigarette butt out the window after putting out the flame, Hank only huffed ".. none of your business, smoker....." He said barely above a mumble

..... 'undies in a twist'.. hah, that's funny...

---

Soon enough, Hank felt the truck go slower suddenly and park, opening his eyes as Sanford pulled the handbrake. He stood up with a groan and jumped off onto the ground, walking with long steps past the duo, who abruptly stopped talking before Deimos yelled over to Hank

"Ey! Arent ya gonna help us get the shit to Doc??" The shorter grunt motioned to the trunk with a hand, Hank barely looked over his shoulder ".. you have arms, you can do it yourself, you don't need me for that." Hank walked into the building oddly stiffly, leaving a crossed-armed Sanford and irritated Deimos behind

Walking inside, they read the living room with their eyes, finding it strange no one was there even after looking over the couch, Doc was likely where he set up the makeshift medbay as always so he didn't feel the need to stress over that, next was the kitchen, they peeked in only to find it barren, now they were starting to get nervous, where are you?

He went room to room in your search, growing more and more anxious with your missing presence, leaving the medbay for last he speed-walked his way to the corridor where the rooms were and opened the door to your shared room, relief washed over his body once he saw you mid folding your clothing and staring at him startled, he sighed

"Hank? Good to see you back but you alright?" You said while finishing folding a shirt in your hands and putting it down, walking over to him as he leaned down to gently bonk his forehead with yours "mhm.. I just got worried you were sent out for a mission and we weren't told, I didn't find you anywhere in the main rooms.."

"oh, well you have nothing to worry about, I'm fine!..." You looked down at his hands, who found their places on your waist, feeling them slightly shake with a tense grip "... You sure you're okay? You seem.. tense?" Hank huffed, he was hoping you wouldn't notice "I just... I'm not even sure, I'm hyperaware of everything touching my skin right now.. it happens at times and I don't have any idea why." He explains, letting go of you and closing the door behind him, walking to your shared bed while undoing the belts around his gear

You hummed in thought, averting your eyes not to look at him while he undressed from his gear "well.. you may be overstimulated." You mumbled, stopping Hank in his tracks "... The fuck is overstimulated?"

"It's like, you were exposed to too much visual, auditory, and/or physical stimuli, so much your brain is kinda short-circuiting in a way, which can make more irritable and easy to anger than normal, it may have a different effect on different people but that's what I've usually seen it described as."

He took a moment to let the information sink in, eyes moving ever so slightly between the floor and you, then shrugged "sounds about right, I don't know much about this kind of thing so I guess I'll trust your judgment."

You nodded, a small silence before you talked again "say, you go take a shower and cool off, I'll get your clothes to the laundry." You said, stepping over to Hank, taking his coat he had carelessly tossed on the ground, as well as his Bandana and mask, he nodded once you looked at him, he got up from the bed, briefly pressing what was left of his lips and jaw to your head before the took a set of clothes from his bag and walked out to the bathroom as you went out to the laundry room in the basement

As soon as you were back, Hank was waiting for your arrival, sitting on the mattress you call a bed waving his feet under the thin blankets you've had to stack for some sort of warmth during the cold nights. It was oddly funny to witness, it made you snicker as you made your way to the mattress yourself, Hank let himself fall onto the shitty pillows behind him—which made you jump due to his weight, you giggled as you laid down as well

Hank covered themselves up to their shoulders, laying on their side and snuggling their way to you, nuzzling into your chest with a sigh as you wrapped an arm around them, a hand gently petting their head in comfort

They wrapped their free arm around your waist, they sighed again, the cold of their jaw and hot breath felt funny through your shirt

".... I missed you." They mumbled as your hand worked it's way to gently massage their back, their thumb making gentle circles on your back

"I missed you too.." you mumbled, pressing kisses on his head "so, so much." A low rumble came from him, slowly getting louder, it was comforting, you let out a sign of your own. After a moment of silence, you spoke again "are you feeling better?"

He nodded into you with a hum, you were always so tenderly soft with him, Hank J. Wimbleton, Nevada's most wanted criminal and killer, melting into someone's arms? He thought it was impossible. He never of the day he'd meet someone as great as you

You hummed, closing your eyes as you two soaked into each other's presence, Hank stayed awake a bit more after you fell asleep, wondering how he was so lucky to have a partner such as you before he eventually fell asleep, feeling the safest and calmest he's ever felt with you in his arms.

===========================

#madness combat #madcom #madness combat x reader #madcom x reader #hank madness combat #madness hank #hank madness #hank j wimbleton #hank #madness hank x reader #mc hank x reader #maskwrites #fic #anon

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smittenroses · 11 months

Text

— Fire Hearts

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Fandom — Welcome Home Pairing — Frank Frankly/Eddie Dear Summery — Oh what was his darling doing out so late at night, holding a jar of light ever so tight? Content Warnings — none, tooth-rotting fluff. Word Count — 751 words Author's note — Happy Pride! I wanted to write up something about these adorable two and the idea of Frank sharing his love of insects and bugs of all types made me so warm inside. I'm not too sure if Clown would want to be tagged in this so I'm not going to, but for those who enjoy Welcome Home, hope you enjoy this too <3

‘Early to bed, early to rise’ was Frank Frankly’s usual motto he would hum every night before he would tuck himself off to bed, one that had gone undisturbed in Home for a very long time. A man of habit, a man of routine. That usual routine is why Eddie was surprised to find his lover in the dead of night with a glass jar in hand, those eyes he loved so much glittering underneath the moonlight.

Eddie had still been in his pyjamas when he had stepped outside the house, the moonlight casting long shadows across the streets as he slowly took one, two steps closer to the man that sat on the grass, the glass jar in his hands softly glowing with soft little lights that danced within.

Fireflies.

“They don’t usually come around here.” Frank spoke when his beloved got close enough, the wet grass underneath his feet most likely staining his socks green with their hue, “I just had to catch some.” A rare sight in Home. That long frown that usually gloomed and sulked was twisted up softly into a slight smile, a soft joy almost seeming to bounce around his frame. Frank Frankly and bugs, the one thing that would disrupt his schedule.

“Aren’t you tired?” Eddie made sure to keep his voice down as he slowly lowered himself to the grass beside his beloved, eyeing the glass jar in his hands, “it’s late at night and the stars are singing.” Although they weren’t actually singing, their twinkling lights may as well be all the same. They sung in time with the fireflies that fluttered and sang in the jar and around the two, the family of little lights dancing, swaying in the cold, breezeless night. “It’s about time we head to bed.”

“Just a few more minutes, love,” Frank muttered softly, “I have a jar for you, too.” The cold glass of the jar was pushed into Eddie’s hands before he could think about denying his lover, feeling as he was slowly lifted from the ground and into the night. Oh, how could he deny his lover the satisfaction of catching a few, catching the memories that would forever be stored in their memories? Eddie may be a bit forgetful, but he knew that he would never forget the look that shone in Frank’s eyes, brighter than the stars, even the moon.

To allow themselves to sleep when only a marvel that could take place under the serenade of the moon would be a plight, so Eddie allowed himself to follow, to be guided, to catch the twinkling lights in his own jar. What tiredness had plagued his body before seemed to disappear under the moon’s light, especially as he held the jar, watching as the fireflies danced to an imaginary song.

No wonder Frank had broken from his routine, this was a once in a lifetime experience; to miss it would be something else, a crime against all that was good to miss the smile that blossomed on his lover’s face.

“Do we keep them?” Eddie couldn’t help but mutter, watching his lover’s face warp along the glass of the jar, though as the other man shook his head softly, Eddie couldn’t help but laugh; if he were stuck in a jar, he most certainly would want to be let out. He most certainly want to be free to fly and dance with those he cared about, his friends, his lover. To keep them in this jar would be something of a tragedy.

And so, on the count of three, the two lovers let the fireflies once more become one.

What a sight it was to watch those twinkling lights dance and light before fading into the night, leaving the two lovers dancing on dew-covered grass. No doubt Frank would be upset his favourite pyjamas were now stained with green, or that his book would be wet from laying face down on the grass, but yet those thoughts were pushed from the man’s mind for now as he let his fingers interlace with the man he adored.

Eddie couldn’t help but squeeze back, feeling the way their rings softly fit just right.

“Off to bed now,” Eddie whispered, guiding Frank back to his house, to the home that they shared, hand in hand, heart in heart, “Wally wouldn’t like if we slept in for the party.”

“Wally can wait,” Frank said softly into the night air, “I want to appreciate you some more.”

#Welcome Home #Welcome Home fanfic #welcome home eddie #Welcome Home Frank #Frank Frankly #eddie dear #frank/eddie #frank frankly/eddie dear #frank frankly x eddie dear #frank x eddie #pride

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spellmage · 7 months

Text

(Make Sure) The First Bite is the Last Bite

A 'Dark Urge wants to bite someone' scene rewrite. Or at least half of it, the other half is coming at... some point.

Spoilers for The Urge Questline, as well as Acts 1 and 2 generally.

Content Warnings for mentions of gore and violence (none actually committed), references to self-harm, and general angst and sad feelings.

Pairing: The Dark Urge / Gale

Words: 3.5k

Read on AO3

The day had been hard. Too hard for any person to endure, and yet all four of them had made it out alive and, for the most part, unscathed. The Gauntlet of Shar had been nothing short of exhausting; Between the trials, Yurgir, Balthazar and the entire business with the Nightsong, it was no surprise that the majority of the party had headed immediately for their bedrolls upon reaching camp. The assault on Moonrise Towers could wait a few more hours, expectations be damned.

For now, Maidris and his companions (Acquaintances? Associates? Friends?) were fit to be toppled by the slightest wind, never mind a fortress full of cultists. So for the while, they rested, hunkering down in their thin blankets under the eternal twilight of the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Maidris hardly knew if it was truly nighttime at all, though he supposed it didn’t matter much in this place where sleep was scarce and life was scarcer. People found rest where they could, and time for thinking was best left for the sleepless and dead.

Maidris had barely said two words since leaving the Gauntlet. After making sure that Shadowheart was okay– she had only minutes prior forsaken the God she had served all her life –the remaining journey was made in silence. Those who had remained at camp had seemed to sense the party’s mood, making little conversation beyond well-wishes: enough to know what had happened, what they had learned, but not enough to truly understand.

For his part, Maidris kept his distance. The headache that had been pounding at his temples since that day on the beach was fronting as hard as it ever had, and the prospect of small talk was almost as unbearable as the headache itself. Instead, he found a corner by the fire and stripped himself out of his robes, folding them up by the side of his bedroll as he did every night, balancing his bracers on the pile and pulling on a fresh (as fresh as camp life could afford) pair of socks and his usual nightclothes.

All the while the headache burned behind his eyes. He kept his head down, eyes locked on the ground as he went about his nighttime business. The others followed much in his example, and by the time Maidris was untangling the two braids that sat on the left side of his head, everyone else was sleeping or silently meditating either by the fire or in their own tents.

Gale had opted for the comfort of his own little corner, and Maidris watched as the dull blue light that had filled his tent was extinguished and the tent-flaps opened to the heat of the fire. Soon all he heard were the soft snores of his lover, the gentle tell-tale breathing of sleep.

Gale had asked about Maidris joining him, of course, and usually the half-elf would have agreed, sharing body heat in this cold and desolate place. Tonight felt different. Tonight felt dangerous, and Maidris did not want to risk anything, even if there turned out to be nothing to worry about. He couldn’t take that chance, not after what had happened last time.

Who knows who you might kill next if you do not satisfy your urge? Sceleritas Fel, that terrible creature, had said. Maidris had refused to murder Isobel, and in so doing had brought upon himself nightmares and garish visions even worse than what had come before; His companions rent into a hundred unrecognisable pieces, his hands stained with the evidence of his crime, and the black of his shirt made red and shining with the feast their blood had borne.

Maidris shook the thoughts from his head, or at least tried to put them to rest as he laid his heavy head down upon his pillow. As he turned to his side and brought the blankets up over his shoulders, he could feel his piercings dig into the side of his neck, pulling against his ears and pressing into the hard plate of his skull behind them. It hurt, but it was something else to focus on. If he drowned himself in his own pain, perhaps there would be no more left to deliver unto others.

Maidris lay for hours in that blissful discomfort, his ear going numb again and again before his eyes began to droop. But there was to be no rest, not this night, and perhaps, it seemed, never again for the rest of his days, for a sudden lurching nausea made itself known just as he was beginning to drift off.

It hurled his body upwards. His blood was boiling, his hands shaking with the intensity of it. Sickness and sticky hot bile wormed its way through his body like snakes, too big for his veins and too small to be pinned down to just one symptom or area. It was everywhere, all-consuming and undeniably hungry.

His eyes darted around the campfire, looking from the treeline back to the fire, to his companions and then to his hands. There was no blood there, not yet, but his vision was red and peeling. He didn’t even feel himself rising, pushing the blankets from his burning hot torso and standing with a gracefulness he could not believe. With the nausea, the coursing rot, he should be stumbling, and yet his heartbeat had never been so calm, so measured and still and aware.

Maidris stood like he knew what he was doing, let his eyes wander over his gathered and sleeping friends like they were prime chops in a butcher’s window, and finally, finally, they settled on Gale, the flaps of his tent open to the night, enough for his face and torso to be visible, one hand poking out of the confines like a tease. Maidris felt a lurch in his stomach as his feet moved his body to the tent, his steps like a panther’s, prowling and dangerous. Dangerous.

The wizard was a fool, letting himself sleep in such a place, in such company. Like a cat with its belly exposed– too trusting, too vulnerable. Hardly the most difficult target. Easy prey, easy meat.

Maidris felt bile rising in his throat, the hot acid of it burning like he’d swallowed a mouthful of ash. He kept moving, creeping one foot in front of the other until he was crouching at his lover’s bedside, looking down at him like a prized sacrifice, a willing victim to his dark passion, a piece of meat yearning for the Urge’s vile deliverance.

A voice, his voice, unbidden, croaked into the night. The wizard thinks he has the favour of a God, let us show him what a God’s love really feels like.

And then, a voice that was not his spoke. “He thinks he might end the world,” it said. The dark and terrible thing inside of him felt a burning rage at being interrupted, and by his stain of a butler, nonetheless. The Urge graced the disgusting creature with his attention, looking down at him like a worm.

“But you and I could do far worse,” Sceleritas Fel continued, unconcerned by the seething murder in the Urge’s eyes. He looked over Maidris’ sleeping love with a distaste akin only to pity. “You could do so much better, milord.”

But Maidris was himself once more. He stood, backing himself away from both the creature and the sleeping Gale. He could feel the fire behind him, licking at his feet, threatening to burn should he take even one step back.

“Get the Hells away from him,” he hissed, mind still coherent enough to be mindful of not waking the others. Maidris clenched his hands into fists, feeling his nails bite at his palms. He dared a step toward Fel. “I’ll kill you if you touch him.”

Fel seemed to preen at that, his eyes fluttering and a sickening smile splaying on his sallow cheeks, the jagged edges of his knife-sharp teeth shining in the moonlight. Holding to Maidris’ threat, he leapt gleefully away from Gale, landing softly before his master.. Maidris could smell the thing’s rot, the mildew on its clothes. It only added to the nausea lurching in his stomach.

“I won’t lay so much as a talon on him.” Then, with an eager and knowing grin, “I wouldn’t rob you of that delight.”

Maidris tried to keep his breathing steady, but the longer that this creature, this thing stood before him, the hotter his blood seemed to boil. Was it he who controlled his urges? It seemed that every time Fel appeared, something terrible was done. But Alfira– Alfira had died before Fel had even introduced himself, before Maidris knew the true extent of his urges– it was, after all, she who had revealed them.

So then what was he, other than a bearer of terror? He had congratulated Maidris on the mutilation of the bard, instructed the killing of Isobel, even after Maidris had already smothered that particular urge, all-consuming as it had been. But now it was Gale that he wanted dead. And the Urge wanted it too– craved it, needed it, even. Maidris felt the call to destroy as desperately as one felt the urge to breathe after minutes underwater. He couldn’t– He wouldn’t–

The creature interrupted Maidris’ thoughts once more. “Your clever mind is penning tragedy as we speak! Your repressed urge yearns to kill!” Fel raised a finger. “And kill you will… tonight! The moment you close your eyes, your favourite person–” he said it like a taunt, “-will be brutalised.”

The last word was said with a tone verging on glee, like the very prospect of murder was invigorating. The Urge agreed.

But Maidris did not. “No– no, I can control myself.” Then he thought back to Alfira. Could he really control himself? “I love him– I won’t do it,” he said, but he didn’t know who he was trying to convince– Fel? Himself? Neither were going to listen.

He could feel his voice cracking, like his resolve was slipping as easily as leaves from autumn trees, or fingers from frostbitten hands. To kill while he slept was nothing new. What could he really do to stop it, other than plead with his unconscious mind?

“Each man kills the thing he loves. He would forget his god for you… But you won’t for him, of that I know,” Fel said with a conviction bordering on reverence.

God? What god? Mystra was Gale’s god, or at least used to be, but Maidris was not aware of a God that he himself followed. Was this just another part of himself that he had lost on the nautiloid? And what had his religion to do with these urges? What God would ask a man to kill that which he loves the most? Maidris could think of only a few, and none of them bore thinking about any longer.

“The wizard of Waterdeep, hm? He said he wanted his death to mean something, yes?” A smile, larger than seemed possible, spread the creature’s lips taught. “What greater reason to die than for His glory? What greater honour could you give your ugly love?”

Maidris could say nothing, solely focused on keeping his breathing steady and fingers confined to their fists. It was all he could do to stop himself from lunging forward and wrapping his hands around the creature’s neck, wring it until he was limp and moaning. He would wait for death to take it, wait again for it to return, and then kill it again with the same vigour.

“There was much… disappointment at your reluctance to kill the little moon maiden,” Fel said, his voice suddenly saddened and weak. Then he smiled, waving one finger in the air. “You could kill this one deliberately. I’m sure it would be considered a great show of good will. The tithe could still be yours!”

“I don’t care about some fucking tithe,” Maidris spat, head snapping to look upon the wretched creature, this thing that would have him commit the gravest of sins for nothing more than a magical item. It made him feel sick.

The creature tutted. “I do not doubt that you will act with the decorum befitting one of your rank,” he said, as if he had the audacity to be disappointed with Maidris’ language. And then, before Maidris could say anything else, he touted a final, “Goodbye, sweet Lord,” and was gone, vanishing into the night in a melting haze of blood-red mist.

Maidris was alone. No- not alone. There was Gale, on his bedroll, his brown hair messied in front of his face, one arm curled up under his pillow as he slept sound as a babe. Unaware. Unknowing. Undeserving of the fate the Urge wanted oh so dearly to impart upon him.

He crouched down once more. The wizard was sleeping so prettily, a faint smile on his lips like he was dreaming of being anywhere but here. Was it the balcony in Waterdeep he dreamed of? Was he reading peacefully by the docks? Did the ships sail past? Could he hear the rigs as they soared through the water, the splash of waves against the jetty? The Urge could end all of that here. Stop the dream, turn it into a nightmare– make his terror real and so much more vibrantly red.

The Urge wanted to devour him, to eat his love until he was nothing but bones. Maybe he would raise those bones again, ascend the wizard to the honour of loyal servant, a pearly white and shining construct to love whenever he wished. It would be glorious, his magnum opus. He could take his time, flay the flesh or bite right from the bone– make artwork, paint the dirty ground with his magic-tainted blood, kiss the white of the wizard’s skull just as sweetly as Gale had kissed Maidris’ forehead just this morning.

He squeezed his eyes closed and pressed his open palms to the ground. He pulled air into his lungs, wished the thoughts, the headache, the blood, away. For half a second he thought he saw red on his hands again, but it was just the sickly purple of the shadow-cursed soil.

Maybe it would have been a comfort to insist that the voice which told him to kill was another’s— some dark or cursed apparition which could be whisked away with a spell. But Maidris had tried. And all he had gained in return was a laugh wrought from his own two lips. The type of laugh which haunts, which spills out from nightmares like coins from a cut purse, or blood from a cut neck.

Focus. He needed to block it out, find some other thought to fill its space. But something in him knew that a distraction would not work this time. Maidris had a sinking feeling that what the creature Sceleritas Fel had said was true. He would kill tonight, whether he was conscious for the act or not. Just like Alfira.

But this time was different. It had to be. This time, he could prevent it. If Fel hadn’t seen fit to gloat and preen, Maidris may never have known what his unconscious body was set to do this night. Like a fool, Fel had given warning– A warning that Maidris could pass on, even if only to buy time.

He reached one shaking hand out to wake Gale, but stopped short as the Urge reared in full force. It wanted to close its hands about the wizard’s neck, watch as his pretty eyes filled with red, see his capillaries burst as the Urge wrung the life from his lungs. It would be so easy, so terribly easy to just reach out and squeeze.

But then Gale stirred, eyes still closed as he pulled himself up to sit. Like he knew what monster sat at his bedside, like some dreaming angel had warned him of the creature that wanted to end him. He groaned and Maidris could hear the wizard’s hip-bones popping as he righted himself. The Urge delighted in the sound, but felt like a deer in carriage-light, still crouching with one hand outstretched.

“A pleasant dream…” Gale started, his voice heavy with sleep, “gives way to an even more pleasant reality.”

The wizard was smiling, his dimples sunken and brown eyes creased. His hair reflected so prettily in the light, all golden browns and shining grey. He was beautiful, and exhausted, but blissfully awake and as yet alive.

Then something shifted. The smile dropped, the creases moved to his forehead, and he pulled his arms back toward himself.

“Hold on,” Gale said, tilting his head like he was studying a disappointing experiment. If only he really were away in Waterdeep, far away from Maidris and farther still from the Urge. “I’m not sure I like the look in your eyes. What’s wrong?”

But it would take too long to explain. His vision was already blurring, the threat of sleep gnawing at the edges of his mind.

“You’re in danger,” he breathed. He gripped the side of his head as a groan left his lips. Maidris did not miss the way Gale made the slightest move forward at the action. “You need to– I’m going to do something terrible. You need to get away, you need to stop me– I don’t know what I’m going to do to you, but I will regret it for as long as I live.”

He was rambling now, desperately trying to prolong consciousness as if anything could stop the raging want cleaving his mind in half. Stop talking, and kill, the Urge demanded. Maidris just needed to hold on a little longer.

“I see… Fast as in right now, I assume, rather than first light after some sleep fast? You’d better tell me all,” Gale said.

Maidris opened his mouth to speak, to tell Gale to leave, to run, to escape this place, but all that emerged was a groan and half-voiced whimper as his head, his entire body, pulsed with heat. Curse his love’s obsession with answers and explanations. He needed to get away before the Urge made itself known to him.

He tried again to get a word out, any word, but fatigue was filling his body, a deep and heavy exhaustion that weighed his limbs down like rocks. Maidris brought a hand to his eyes to rub the sleep away, to stave off cruel rest until Gale could find someplace safe.

“I am going to kill you,” Maidris grit out, past the point of subtlety. He braced both palms on the ground again, desperately trying to stay awake, hoping his words sounded more like a warning than a threat. “My favourite person. You need to stop me. Please.”

He dragged his gaze up to meet Gale’s eyes. He couldn’t identify the expression on his lover’s face, but it was somewhere between fear, hurt, and… curiosity.

“I’ve shared my heart with you, I’d rather you didn’t skewer it.”

“Not… The time… For jokes…” Maidris panted. Sweat was pouring down his neck, running from his forehead, down his temples and dripping from his chin. He was hotter than the Grymforge, and he was only getting hotter.

“Dangerous secrets are best shared with those who depend on you. I should know. We’re in this together. Theoretically.” And then, softer, “You should have confided in me sooner. What is it? A curse? Compulsion? Enthrallment? Whatever it is, we’re going to free you of it, of that I swear.”

A pipe-dream, Maidris thought, touched as he was by the wizard’s words. If only the darkness that grew, that thrived within him, was anything as base as a curse. But there was such conviction in his voice, the same confidence that Maidris had come to adore in his partner now reflected back at him, at his condition.

His eyelids drooped. The drowsiness was filling every bone, every vein, until all that Maidris knew was sleep. He could not fight it. He could not deny it. All he could do was watch as Gale grew into a purple and brown blur before him, his figure tilting as Maidris fell to his side, his head landing on the dusty ground with a heavy thump. Piercings dug into his skin.

He faintly heard his name being called. A panicked tone, the type he’d only ever heard in the thrall of battle, when his overzealous nature got the better of him and he rushed into the fray without thinking. Before he could say anything in return, Maidris was falling, finally, into dusty darkness, the world around him a low hum. His vision faded from purple, to yellow, to red.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #the dark urge #bg3 spoilers #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #this is literally the third fanfic i've ever shared online i'm still clueless about how any of this works #it took me an entire hour to build up the courage to post this stupid thing #mage fics

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valentineforlemonandcherry · 2 years

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Foxtail & Wolfsbane Mood Board

Collective suggestions for story/character soundtracks, face claims, and my pre-writing imagined character aesthetics are gathered here!

☾ Click Here for Foxtail & Wolfsbane Home Page (All Chapter Links) ☾

General Atmosphere & Aesthetic:

Full Moon.

Ferns, from Remus.

Star-Covered Ceiling.

Gentle Hands Meeting Shyly over a Map.

(Gif: https://64.media.tumblr.com/e75bc5a810fef5c47ed295fb24122918/3e0ef1d158c008d3-b7/s500x750/009c04a521117ce5939403cb1ee8a62eb48b83d5.gifv.)

Tristan Graves’ Pocketwatch.

Severus Snape’s Wolfsbane Potion.

Soundtrack:

Popular/Indie:

General Story Atmosphere

Hollow Coves by the Woods

Woodland EP by Paper Kites

Technicolor Beat by Oh Wonder

Remus Lupin & Reader’s Relationship

Cardigan by Taylor Swift

Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer

Midnight Moon by Oh Wonder

All I Want by Kodaline

Orchestral:

Window to the Past (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) by John Williams

Salamander Eyes (Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald) by James Newton Howard

(Summarized, Non-Spoiler) Personal Notes I Made Up for the Characters:

Rowan Scamander:

Casually, Prefect | Ravenclaw | Sun Child

Magizoologist | Family Legacy | Price of Fame

Strength, In All Ways | Inherent Charisma

Train Rides | Foxtail Charm | Strong Denials, Shy Confessions

Childhood Best Friend | First Love | Naturally, Your Second Love, Too

Freckles | Auburn Hair | Chestnut Eyes

Always on the Hunt | Crossroads of Possibility and Definition | Search for a Self

“Little Fox Girl” | “Nymph” | “Baby”

Rowan Scamander was born with the strength of a thousand suns burning in his chest. People confuse his incredible charisma and flair with his family’s famous legacy, but it hardly bears any connection. Rather, Rowan burns brightly all of the time - and it allows him to conquer the world on the grandest stage, but it also betrays him in the most intimate of moments, because he can’t imagine a world in which he isn’t burning alive.

Remus Lupin:

Marauder - Moony | Marauder’s Map Mastermind | Bashfully, Prefect

DADA Professor | Night-Day Duality | Patronus Charm

Lycanthrope | Moon Child | Lunar Sixth Sense

Soul Mate | Patches on Clothing | Sweater Paws | Folded Socks

Foxtail Fern | Shared Hiding Space | Unexplained Scars

Scent of Earl Grey Tea, Favorite Books, and Chocolate | Irrationally Possessive over His Favorite Jazz Records | Doesn’t Believe in Astrology and Fairytales, But Studies Them Intently, Anyways

The Shrieking Shack | The Whomping Willow | The Forbidden Forest

“Lovely” | “Sweetheart” | “Darling”

Remus is the type of student who does his homework, and then forgets to turn it in. He is always mildly confused, which means it’s a toss-up as to whether his reaction to anything will be pleasant politeness or unintended, but utter savagery. Part of his uncertainty comes from his unrelenting desire to be kind, but part of it also comes from his deep-rooted struggle with his self-worth.

Tristan Graves:

Head of the Aurors | Reluctant Protector | Star Child

Family Crest | Price of Prodigy | Magic of Metal

Cloud Within the Iris | Silver Streak | Emerald Eyes

Leather Gloves | Black Cloak | Silver Timepiece

Hades and Persephone | Byronic Lead | Realist, Yet A Victim of Myth

Tristan Graves carries the weight of an incredible and mysterious family legacy, as well as the burden of being a child prodigy, on his young shoulders. What differentiates him most, though, is not quite apparent to the eye, for it is not his evident genius, sharp emerald eyes, or even the single silver streak in his otherwise raven-black hair, but rather - his reluctant, yet lordly status in life as the protector of those around him.

Severus Snape:

Potions Master | Half-Blood Prince | Legilimens

Autumnal Spirit | Decay, Death & Glory | Days Gone By

Neither Villian Nor Hero | Own Code of Morals | The Bishop of All Kings

Intellect Over Instinct | Control & Purpose | Simplicity & Solitude

Oak Tree Crowned with Golden Stars | Scent of Herbs - Basil & Sage | Scent of Woods - Cedar & Soft Eucalpytus

"Little One” | “Always” | “Shush.”

Severus Snape demands control over his life because everything he once banked on - bringing pride and glory to his mother and becoming impressive and charismatic to his love - all fell apart before he turned thirty. He doesn’t believe in the logics of light, but neither can he fully give himself to the dark. He lives in the in-between, catching a few flickers of fire in his dark eyes as he moves among the shadows, forever living in a grey, extinguished world.

*Note: I left Sirius Black off this list, because I’ve planned a different Sirius-centric story for the future.

#moodboard #foxtail and wolfsbane #severus snape #tristan graves #rowan scamander #remus lupin

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emissaire · 2 years

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it's him - geto suguru x reader

warnings/includes: none. this is pure fluff (♡˙︶˙♡)

notes: hey, it's fae! just a little reward for myself after a stressful week hehe and no, i am not back yet.

The concept of love has always been foreign to you. Not because you were neglected as a child or friendless for that matter. You believe in love but you find it hard to grasp the whole notion of being in love with someone. It's too big of a word for you that even saying those three words to your past lovers and even your parents feels weird and not fulfilling. That was until Geto Suguru came.

This tall, raven haired man is charming in every sense– laid back yet playful, gentle but firm, kind to those he loves but a menace to everyone else. In other words, he's the yin and yang himself. Balanced and complete– perfect in his own mismatched way. It's a wonder how he is with someone so… dull. At least in your perspective. You've lived a life of always going straight, no detours to have fun in fear of disappointing your ambitious parents. It was all thanks to Geto Suguru that you learned how to rebel. Now your parents refuse to see you as long as you're still seeing such a rumbustious man. Their words, not yours. It's been three years. Too bad for them though, you're two months away from tying the knot with the same man they've come to loathe so much.

Who would have thought, right? The thought of getting married has never crossed your mind before Suguru. You were always quick to turn down such ideas from your past lovers if ever brought up, thinking it was so far-fetched but this 6 '3 foot, purple eyed man made you crumble. Made you realize that love doesn't come in grandiose gestures or flashy things. It's the littlest things in the relationship that you share with your man. It's his prominent morning breath that makes you scrunch your nose, it's his annoying and smug smirk that you want to slap off of him sometimes, it's the comfort of his arms that he gives you on terrible days, heck, love is even when he's so untidy and leaves his shoes and socks so messily at the front door– it's him. He's the love. He's your love. He is love.

general jjk taglist: @resonancesoul @nanamiswhore @missroro @thedarkroseofficial @moirdior @fiona782 @bubbleteaproduction @cryformekitten @qudvxnkanx @linibambinii @dilftaroooo @getomybeloved @sukunas-left-nut-sack @nyxnightshade7656 @bxby-luna @hxked @ahnneyong @kitasdoll @hp-hogwartsexpress @rietvellld @jujutsukuna @crapimahuman @senjuasuna @wakasa-wifey @ranilingus @sxenjill @sukiguru @zoroxjin @imvivian @paradisarchives @nyapnyat @snoopysxng @etheralyonn @ramens-posts @rinny-babe @scatoru @bekky06 @medusalovessnakes @lordbugs @hanmascult @savantsoulfinder @berranurates @serenareiss @jenniegothic

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto fluff #geto suguru fluff #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #getou fluff #jjk fluff #livre: daisy

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writersmorgue · 2 years

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Local Girl Turns Into Girl

read on Ao3

TW transphobia mention, misgendering, internalized transphobia, hate crime, F slur, implied abuse (endeavor)

word count: 4.5k

Do not repost.

Todoroki Shouto is not a boy.

“Oh! Yeah, he told me he’s going to be here soon.”

He’s not.

“There he is!”

He-

“My man! There you are, we were waiting!”

She-

Shouto grimaces, undetectable as normal. Bakugo still looks at him strangely.

Maybe Shouto isn’t a girl. Since obviously his brain can’t even catch up to the fact that he- she- wants to throw up every time they call him (her)-

“He looks a little ill.”

“Hey, Todoroki, are you okay?”

She forces a neutral expression, looking up at Kirishima, “Yeah, I’m fine, sorry.”

“Fuckin’ act normal Icy Hot, don’t want the extras knowing you have no social life.” Bakugo scoffs, nudging her forward.

Normal. Right.

She nods, ignoring the scolding Mina is giving Bakugo. She knows the blond has no tact, but he’s still right. She’s 18. She can be normal.

The word is warm on her tongue, fuzzy where it’s usually sharp.

She.

She smiles, ignoring the look Bakugo is giving her.

“-Should ask him. Todo, what do you think?”

“Huh?”

“Kirishima was wondering if you want to go to the athletic store with the boys, me and Jirou are going to get some socks.” Mina fills in, bouncing on her feet.

Shouto laments silently when she feels the fuzzy warmth leave her body.

“Oh,” She mumbles, “I kind of need socks,”

Jirou shrugs, “No problem if you want to come with us.”

Shouto nods, looking over at Kirishima, “Sorry.”

The redhead waves him off, “Don’t worry bro! We’ll catch up with you at the food court in an hour!”

Mina grabs Shouto’s arm, linking her with the other girls.

The fuzzy feeling festers within her brain.

“So! Todoroki, we were going to head to a girl’s shop, if that’s okay with you. They should have plain ones too.” Mina squeezes her elbow, rubbing her side up against the taller girl.

Shouto nods, “That’s fine.”

“You know, Todoroki, I admire your willingness to push gender norms, you let Hagakure put makeup on you last week when none of the other boys would,” Jirou observes, looking past Mina at her.

Shouto nods absently, “Made me feel pretty.”

Jirou grins, “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We should have Momo you a dress when we get back, you have the legs for it.”

Shouto finds herself blushing.

No one has ever said something like that to her.

“Okay,” She hums, looking around at all the skirts and dresses they pass as they enter the store.

Mina and Jirou grin at each other.

They split up at the shoe section, each moving on to their own taste in clothing.

Shouto is looking down at a pair of baby pink socks with frills on them, wondering absently what her father would do if he found out she’d bought those with his money.

She must be staring for quite a while, enough to catch someone’s attention. She feels a hand push against her back.

She whips around, ice spreading on her right cheek.

“Didn’t know they let fags in here, you fuckin’ creep.” The man sneers, crossing his arms.

Shouto recoils at the slur, she may be socially inept, but she’s not ignorant. She knows what that means.

The man’s yellow eyes narrow, he straightens, standing at least three inches shorter than Shouto herself. “Hey, you’re number one’s kid aren’t you. Endeavor?” He sneers, “Wonder what he would do if he found out his spoiled prodigy was lookin’ at girl shit. Bet he’d fuckin’ kill you, seems like the type.”

You’re not wrong there.

The man hums, assessing Shouto, looking her up and down, “Actually, I can make that happen.”

Shouto stiffens, creating an Ice dagger in her palm, prepared for a fight.

The man reaches out and grabs Shouto’s shirt, dragging her forward, before spitting directly in her face.

Shouto squawks, vision whiting out for a moment as a wave of intense pain travels through her body. It feels like her nerves are being set on fire, inch by inch. Eating her alive.

She un-tenses when it finally dissipates, what the fuck was that??

The guy snorts at her, “You’re welcome bitch,” and then turns on his ass and sprints out of the store before she can freeze him to the floor. Too dazed to react, Shouto simply stares down at her hands.

Were her nail beds always that narrow?

Okay, he definitely used his quirk on her, she just has no fucking idea what it was.

She looks up, only to find Jirou and Mina staring at her- directly at her.

“Todoroki, did you just shrink six inches?” Mina asks, looking behind her as if the real Todoroki is hiding not right there.

“Uh-” She chokes, was that seriously the guy’s quirk??

“Did you get hit by a quirk, Todoroki?” Jirou squints at her, “You seem different.”

Shouto blinks, “The guy, he uh, ran that way-” Shouto points to the exit.

Jirou’s head swivels in the direction of Shouto’s finger, “Well,” she frowns, “he’s gone now.”

Mina turns Shouto in circles, investigating her, “We should get back to UA, just in case.

Shouto nods, following numbly as they pull her out of the store, Mina calling the boys to let them know that they’re leaving.

Shouto raises a hand to feel around her nose, where the man’s spit had landed. It’s dry, which she assumes means it absorbed into her skin somehow. Great, probably another part of his dumbass quirk.

When they finally reach the school, Shouto is ushered into Recovery Girl’s office by a peeved Aizawa.

“You’re telling me that an unknown man used his quirk on you in the middle of the mall and all three of you combined did… nothing?” He repeats, bewildered.

“To be fair,” Shouto interjects, hopping onto the familiar crinkly bed cover, “They weren’t near me, and I was slightly distracted by the fact that a civilian spat in my face.”

Aizawa bristles “He did what?!” and turns to the girls.

Jirou glares a Shouto, who just shrugs, “Well Todoroki neglected to mention that.”

The man turns back to Shouto, “Kid, did he do anything else?”

Recovery Girl comes over, patting Shouto on the back and gesturing for her to turn away from the group, “I’m just going to check your vitals young man, you can keep talking.”

Shouto nods, “Well he called me a slur, something about my dad, I wasn't paying that much attention.”

Aizawa sighs, Shouto raises her arms to let Recovery Girl lift up her shirt.

She swings her socked feet lightly in the air, reveling in the fact that they no longer touch the ground.

Recovery girl hums, using her stethoscope and otoscope, “You can put your shirt back on now, dearie.”

Shouto hums, grabbing it and sliding it over her arms, looking down for only a moment to fix the chest portion-

Do her pecs usually look like that?

They’re… pointier, about the same size, but peak at her nipples instead of rounding smoothly.

She pokes one, it’s… squishy? More so than usual.

That’s odd.

She pulls the shirt on the rest of the way, deciding she can investigate further in her room later. Swiveling around, she turns toward her classmates.

“Well, Todoroki is in good health, nothing appears to be wrong,” Recovery Girl sighs, writing something down on her chart, “however, and I haven’t completely confirmed this, I believe the quirk he was hit with changed his sex.”

Huh.

Shouto stares down at her legs contemplatively as her teacher and friends burst into question.

She rubs them together subtly, noticing for the first time, the lack of an extra appendage.

If it’s gone, does that mean she has a-

“TODOROKI HAS A PUSSY?!” Mina shouts, only to be slapped in the back of the head by Jirou and Aizawa simultaneously.

Recovery Girl stares at the girl, “While I wouldn’t put it like that, that’s what I assume, yes. Todoroki, dear, you could go check?”

Shouto shakes her head, “No need,” her voice cracks, and she coughs.

RG frowns, “It seems like the rest of the quirk is taking effect slowly, I assume we’ll find you have ovaries and a uterus as well.” She sighs, “I can use my quirk on you, but I doubt it’ll do anything. We’ll have to find the man and have Aizawa use his quirk on him, or wait for it to run its course.”

Shouto nods, stomach sinking at the thought of the quirk turning her back.

She answers a few more questions and agrees to stay with a friend to monitor her symptoms overnight.

“Now, I know this is strange, but I’m going to request that you stay with a female classmate tonight, it goes against school policy to allow boys and girls to bunk together but Todoroki is technically a girl right now. It would prevent any… mishaps.” She finishes, looking pointedly at Aizawa.

“Yes,” the man agrees, “I feel that would be appropriate. I’ll explain the situation to Iida so he doesn’t have an aneurysm.”

Mina snorts and grabs Shouto’s hand, “That’s a good idea, sensei. Can we take Todoroki back to the dorms? You’re close with Yaomomo, right?” She smiles at Shouto, pulling him out of the room when Aizawa nods.

“Um,” she pauses, “well, yes I suppose I am.”

“Great! I’m sure she’ll be happy to host you if you’re comfortable with it. As much as I want to bother you all night, I think you’ve had a busy enough day.” She grins sheepishly.

Shouto hums, letting Jirou take her other hand as they lead her through the front door of Heights Alliance.

“Hey!! Guys what happened, is Todoroki okay?” Kirishima calls out from the kitchen where Bakugo seems to be making the lunch they missed.

Mina skips over to them, dragging Shouto like a rag doll behind her. Jirou lets it happen, the traitor.

“Yeah! He got hit by a quirk, is all.”

“Oh?” Kirishima’s eyebrow quirks, “What kind?”

Mina looks to Shouto expectantly, who doesn’t really want to open her mouth at the moment.

“We’re not going to judge you if your voice cracks, Todoroki, we’re mature,” She directs this at Kaminari, who has made himself comfortable on a barstool.

He raises his hands and hunches back on himself.

Shouto nods, already able to tell that her voice has finished changing. It’s smooth when she talks, lacking the gaps and scratches that come with puberty. “It was a gender swap quirk.” Her higher, smoother voice explains.

Bakugo drops the knife he’s holding, jerking his head around to face her, “You go through reverse puberty or somethin’ Icy Hot?”

Shouto huffs, tucking her slowly growing red hair behind her ear, “Not reverse, I’m in a girl’s body.” I’m in the right body.

“Shit dude,” Kirishima winces, obviously assuming Todoroki is uncomfortable with the idea, “do they know when they can fix it? Is it gonna wear off soon?”

Hopefully not. Her subconscious recoils at the idea.

“Well,” She clears her throat, “Aizawa-sensei said if they find the guy who did it, he would try using his quirk, but otherwise we don’t know if it’ll wear off.” She explains, ignoring the looks of sympathy on the boys’ faces.

“So you have all the… equipment?” Kaminari waggles his eyebrows.

Kirishima smacks the back of his head, “Dude don’t ask him that.” He reprimands.

Shouto stiffens, shifting on her feet.

Mina frowns, “Let’s go get you some more comfortable clothes, Todo.” She suggests, giving her an out.

She nods, following the pink-haired girl out of the kitchen, listening to the distant smack of Bakugo's spatula making contact with Kaminari's head.

Mina grins at her apologetically when they arrive at Momo’s door. “She should be here, Jirou said she was studying.”

Shouto frowns, “I don’t want to bother her-”

Mina’s already knocking.

“Coming!!” A brief rustle of papers and the door swings open to reveal a slightly disheveled Momo. She lets out a heavy breath, moving the loose hair from her face, reaching up to pull it into a messy ponytail, “Todoroki, I heard you were hit by a quirk?”

She nods, but Mina answers for her, “Yeah, I figured we could get her some comfy clothes.”

“My clothes are plenty comfortable,” Shouto pouts, tugging at her waistband. Well, they don’t fit her as well now, shirt sagging on her shoulders and pants tighter around her hips. They pool around her ankles, falling over the shoes that are noticeable bigger than they were a few hours ago. Maybe she could use better clothes.

Momo seems to agree, humming as she looks Shouto up and down.

“Yes, right, well come in then. Please ignore the mess, I was organizing papers.”

“Class Rep even on a Saturday I see,” Mina teases.

Momo blushes, distracting herself by welcoming Jirou in as well, closing the door behind the four of them.

“Right, Shouto, do you know your measure-” Momo pauses, poking a manicured nail into her lip, “I suppose your previous measurements are irrelevant, oh well, we’ll re-do them.” She pulls a protein bar out of her desk drawer and produces a tape measure from her arm as she chews, “Turn around for me.”

Jirou chuckles as Shouto stands in just her saggy boxers and a temporary sports bra, waiting patiently for Momo to finish, “I keep having to remind myself that you’re not a girl, you look really good, Todoroki.”

Shouto hums, looking off to the side in lieu of answering.

Jirou stills, “You- actually, maybe I’m wrong.”

Shouto looks up at her, a puzzled expression mimicking both Mina and Momo’s.

“What do you mean, Jirou?” Mina presses, looking awkwardly between the girls.

“Shouto if you were able to choose what assigned gender you had what would you pick?” Jirou looks her in the eyes, her expression giving nothing away about her intentions.

Despite the fact that Shouto’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of her body, she doesn’t think she’s ever felt more comfortable. Surrounded by people that won’t judge her, and that think only the best of her.

Mina seems to catch on, patting her shoulder, “Yeah! We won’t mind, Yaomomo can adjust what she creates to make you comfortable.”

Momo nods when Shouto looks back at her, tape measure still wrapped around her neck.

Shouto nods, mainly to herself, “I- I want to be a girl. Before the quirk, I did too,” she whispers, practically inaudible with how quiet she is. But they hear, of course they do. They’ll listen to her.

Jirou smiles gently, “Do you want us to call you ‘she’? Momo can make you some more feminine clothes if you’d like. Unless you’re not comfortable, we can give you some to wear in private.”

Shouto considers this, on one hand, she doesn’t think she’s ever wanted something more, but on the other, she’s… terrified. Absolutely petrified of what they’ll say, of what her friends will say.

“If anyone pulls shit, I will personally kick their ass,” Mina adds, surprisingly sincere, her expression makes Shouto pity anyone who crosses her.

Jirou nods, “Plus, one of Kirishima’s moms is trans, I’m pretty sure he’ll actually murder someone if they try anything.”

Shouto blanches, “She is?”

Jirou nods, “Yeah, you didn’t see him showing pictures of her last Mother’s Day? Apparently, she’d only come out a few months before, he was so happy.”

Shouto frowns, “I… guess I didn’t.”

“Yeah, plus like eighty percent of our class is queer in some way, and I don’t think anyone is transphobic, especially since grape bitch is gone; Shinsou’s like… so gay.” Mina bounces on her heels.

“We just want you to be comfortable, Shouto,” Momo adds softly.

Shouto feels her right eye begin to burn, the wetness of tears pooling at the bottom. She gasps, face crumpling slightly when a sob breaks free.

“Thank you guys,” She sniffs, using the tissue Momo hands her to wipe her eye, “I don’t think I can do this by myself anymore.”

“It’s okay, babe,” Mina tugs her into a hug, patting her back soothingly, running her manicured nails through Shouto’s now shoulder-length hair.

“Do you want us to help you get ready? If you need anything or- want to try shaving or makeup. Stereotypical, I know, but sometimes it makes me feel better.” Momo offers.

Jirou nods, “If you want, of course, none of that is necessary. You’re plenty beautiful as you are, ya know. I wasn’t lying earlier.”

Shouto’s cheeks flush. She knows Jirou is gay, but hearing her tell Shouto she’s pretty- for some reason just feels so good. She’s attracted to women- and she’s attracted to Shouto.

“I’ve- never shaved before, I don’t- didn’t- grow facial hair, really. I’d like to try, and see how I feel about it.” Shouto mumbles into Mina’s shoulder.

“Alright,” Mina scratches Shouto’s scalp, mussing the red and white hair together, “Let’s get you to the baths, yeah? It’ll be relaxing. You’ve had a long day and it’s only 2 PM.”

Shouto sniffs smiles at her, and follows when they lead her out of the room.

“I’ll be there in a moment when the clothes are ready. I’ll just make you some lounge clothes, for now, Shouto. We can go shopping soon and find out what you actually like.” Momo waves them off down the hall.

They make it to the common room before someone finds them.

“Todoroki-”

Shouto practically jumps out of her skin at the sound of her teacher’s deep voice, she turns quickly, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Sensei?” Jirou speaks for her.

“I need to talk to Todoroki for a moment if you don’t mind.” Aizawa looks over to Shouto, expression almost… regretful?

“Is it about the quirk?” Shouto finally finds her voice, stepping closer to Mina.

The man nods.

“They can stay.” She nods to the girls, standing up straighter.

Aizawa’s jaw tenses, but he nods, “Well, the police tracked down the man who did this via camera footage and his past… record. Uh, we’ll have to have a meeting with your father about options but- the quirk is permanent. Changes your entire body structure and hormone output completely. As far as they know there’s not much they can do but I’m sure your father will find help.”

Shouto thinks her heart is going to explode.

Her voice wavers, and she grips Mina’s hand hard, “They- they’re sure it’s permanent?”

Aizawa nods, mouth drawn in a thin line, “Yes, as you know the longest temporary quirk ever recorded lasted for six months. The man used it on his mother when he was 4, she never changed back. That was 27 years ago.”

Shouto feels her eye burning again, but holds herself back, “Don’t tell my father.”

Aizawa stiffens, “Todoroki, legally we have to tell him, and I’m sure you want him to help fix this-”

“There’s nothing to fix.” She seethes, looking strictly at the ground,” I’m an adult. I’m a woman. That’s it. This is how it always was, now I just look the part.”

Aizawa blanches, “You- were transgender? I didn’t- my apologies Todoroki. I didn’t mean to insinuate that you needed to be fixed-”

Shouto un-tenses, “You didn’t know, it’s fine. But Endeavor will still think that, and I don’t need him breathing down my neck right now.”

Aizawa nods, “Of course, that’s reasonable.”

Jirou hums, “You’re awfully accepting of this sensei, I’m pleasantly surprised.”

Aizawa sighs, rubbing his temple, “I’m a trans man, and have a husband, there’s no room for phobia of any kind.”

“Really?!” Mina gasps, “OMG nobody even knew, Sensei! That’s so cool!!”

He snorts, shaking his head fondly, “I’ll leave you three to it, UA will take care of any needs you have, kid, don't worry about anything.”

“Thank you, Sensei.” Shouto nods, allowing her friends to tug her in the direction of the baths.

“Todoroki!” Mina squeals when they shut the door behind them.

Shouto breathes, steam puffing from her mouth as her quirk flares, “It’s permanent.”

Jirou slaps her on the back, “Damn right it is.”

She lets herself relax, shoulders slumping and mouth softening into a smile.

Mina snorts, “Your dad is gonna shit his pants.”

Jirou laughs, “Holy shit you’re right, when are you going to tell him? Or like… your mom.”

“I think Mom already knows, same with Natsu. I’ll tell the rest of them eventually when we all get together. It’s not like I have to come out, I’m technically cisgender.” Shouto rolls her eyes, beginning to take her clothes off.

“Oh that’s right! aren’t two of your siblings dating pro heroes?” Jirou muses.

“Officially Hawks is just Touya’s parole officer.” Shouto corrects, “but they’re definitely fucking at the very least.”

Mina gasps, “Dabi is gay?!!?”

Jirou and Shouto stare at her.

“Yes,” they drone at the same time.

Momo met them halfway through their bath, bringing Shouto’s clothes with her. They got her dressed and brushed through her (mid-back length) hair which Mina offered to braid.

“Todoroki-” Mina gasps when she turns the girl back around to face them, “I think I’m gay.”

“We know you’re gay Mina,” She rolls her eyes, looking back at Shouto, “but I know what you mean.”

Shouto turns to the mirror Momo is holding out for her, reaching for the handle with deft fingers.

The woman staring back at her is one Shouto only ever saw in her best dreams.

Most things are basically the same. Her high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and straight nose, are all still there. Her eyes are still narrow and scar spread over her left eye and ear. But her face is overall much softer, lacking the intensity she’d grown used to avoiding in mirrors. It’s so mild but so noticeable.

Her hair has been braided, courtesy of Momo, the end pulled over her shoulder, reaching the top of her bra. Which- holy shit- is something Shouto never thought she’d be able to say.

She’d never thought breasts would suit her, but she supposes that was the internalized transphobia because she fucking loves this. Loves the way she now has to adjust to them.

The rest of her body changed too, of course. Her stomach is no longer as toned, of course, the hard muscle is still there, just underneath a layer of fat that protects her new organs. Her arms are smaller, still thick with muscle that she can visibly admire, as well as her shoulders that are broad, but considerably less so than before.

Her legs have always been on the lean side, most of the muscle shaped in the way an ice skater’s would be. They haven’t changed much, except for her wider hips and shorter legs. Her shoe size was relatively small before and hasn’t changed enough to warrant new shoes, which Shouto is oddly grateful for. It’s… a lot to handle at once. The familiarity is comforting.

She’s slightly shorter than Momo now, which is bizarre, but Shouto is very pansexual and has no complaints.

“I’m gonna throw up.” She grits, tugging back lightly on the hands that are dragging her down the hallway.

“No, you’re not.” Jirou pats her back, “You’re going to go out there and they’re all going to fall in love with you, and then we will play Monopoly and kick Bakugo’s ass and also get food because I am starving.”

Shouto snorts, still vibrating with nerves.

“If you’re uncomfortable we can leave, but I assure you there’s nothing to be nervous about.” Momo offers, shooting her a smile.

She nods, steeling herself, before releasing herself from Mina’s grip and walking out into the common room.

“Shoutoooooo…oooo?” Midoriya drops his raised arms, blushing intensely, “You- look- wow- did the- the girls- they- yeah- you- okay-” He plops himself back on the carpet where he’d been sitting, a haunted look on his crimson face.

“Woah- Todoroki the quirk hasn’t worn off yet?” Kirishima grins, sharp teeth gleaming, “You look great!”

Shouto fiddles with the waistband of the sweatpants Momo made her, paired with the loose-cropped hoodie and fuzzy socks, she’s pretty sure she’s never been more comfortable.

“Oh, it’s not going to.” She mumbles, giddy on the adrenaline she’s suddenly been rushed with. She’s going to tell them. (She’s going to tell them!!!)

Kirishima frowns, “Oh, I’m sorry man-”

“Girl-” Shouto corrects, looking up at him, “always have been, I just look like one now. Just… so you know.” She flushes at the attention when she realizes the entire class is looking at her.

Kirishima grins at her, “For real? you’re trans?!” He walks over to her, now much taller than her, he holds his arms out, “Can I give you a hug?”

Shouto stares up at him with wide eyes, taking in the fact that he’s now double her size, and nods absently. He bounces as he lunges at her, wrapping his (huge, holy shit) arms around her, gripping her tightly. Her face smushes into his shoulder, and she turns to the side to prevent being suffocated by muscle.

He pulls back after one last squeeze, smiling brightly down at her, “I’m really happy for you, Todoroki!” He leans down to whisper in her ear, “If anyone fucks with you, tell me, yeah?”

She nods, face burning, and he pats her on the shoulder before letting her get back to her friends.

Sero waves Shouto’s attention over to him, and he sits up straighter on the couch, “So you go by she/her and all that?”

“Yeah,” she confirms walking over to sit with Midoriya, Uraraka, Iida, and Tsu.

The brunette squeals, gripping onto Iida’s shoulder what Shouto can only assume is painfully. “Ohmygosh!!! Todo you’re so pretty this is awesome, we didn’t even know!!”

Iida adjusts his glasses, either ignoring or not bothered by the leech attached to him, “I hope you know that you can tell us anything, Todoroki, but I am happy for you for coming out now.”

Shouto nods, looking over to Midoriya who is gaping openly at her.

“You-” Midoriya squawks, hands flapping wildly, “You’re gorgeous Shouto oh god I feel awful I didn’t even know and I’ve been calling you he the whole time but you’re not and-”

Shouto pats him on the head, “Midoriya, it’s okay, I never said anything.”

His watery eyes stare into her soul, “But you just got confirmation quirked, so obviously you’ve been out about it, or at least the girls knew-” He turns to Uraraka, who shakes her head.

“I didn’t get confirmation quirked-” Shouto corrects, but thinking about it, “Well, I did, but it was not planned. Actually, the guy thought he was ruining my life by permanently changing my gender.” She tilts her head thoughtfully, “I kind of want to thank him, but he spit in my face.”

Izuku sputters and Iida starts lecturing the man on Shouto’s behalf. Shouto finds her worries crumbling one by one.

dividers

240 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 2 years

Note

hey could you write coops being all cute and coupley in front of the team and then all of them being like “yea yea we get it you’re in love” (but really keep doing it because we love that you’re both happy)? ❤️

The temperature is dropping fast here, so I figured it was time for a little holiday spirit. This was combined with asks for Cub lovin' from an outside perspective and the Lions teasing Coops like in this fic as well! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

“C’mon, Pads, why don’t you shove your face a little further into his neck?” James teased, sinking into the armchair closest to the fire with a grin and a fresh cup of eggnog. “I’m sure there’s an inch or two you haven’t found yet.”

Sirius glared at him over the collar of Remus’ sweater, though the edges of his eyes crinkled as laughter washed over the room. “He’s just jealous,” Sirius said with a light kiss to the hinge of Remus’ jaw, earning himself an amused look. “Wishes it was him.”

“As if,” Lily snorted. She settled into James’ lap and slung her legs over the armrest, then gave one of his curls a tug that mirrored the skip of his heart at her familiar weight on his thighs. Her skin was warm from the fire when he slipped a hand under her thick sweater to rest at the small of her back; her red-painted lips curled into a smile. “You did good, Black, but I think we can agree Potter won the jackpot.”

Sirius raised his head to rest his chin on Remus’ shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Agree to disagree, Evans.”

“At least none of the rest of us have matching sweaters,” Kasey countered mildly with his head in Nat’s lap as she braided small strands on his hair. “You four are downright sickening sometimes.”

“Jealous,” Remus whispered, drawing a snicker from Sirius that was muffled by the thick knit.

Dumo had finally fixed his secondhand record player—a passion project, he had called it as long as James knew him—and light music floated throughout the house as the fire crackled merrily and cast the living room in a reddish glow. At least half the team was piled into the small space, but it was surprisingly quiet; they were all drowsy from the potluck dinner and the last practice before the holiday break.

James flexed his sore feet in his fuzzy socks and grimaced, then relaxed as Lily combed her fingers through his hair. She still smelled like butterscotch from the cookies they baked and brought as their contribution—he made a mental note to get the picture of her and Harry at the kitchen counter printed and framed as soon as possible.

Honestly, he thought as Sirius nudged Remus’ ear with his nose until he laughed under his breath and ducked his chin. It’s like you two are trying to live a Hallmark movie.

“Parents coming up this year, Loops?” Talker asked around a yawn.

Remus looked over in surprise, away from the light kisses his cheeseball of a husband was scattering over his cheek. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, they’ll be up ‘til New Years.”

“Jules?”

“Nah, they’re gonna pull a Home Alone and see how he does.”

Talker shrugged, unfazed by the sarcasm save for the half-smile pulling at his mouth. “I’d put my money on him. Tough kid, that one.”

“Yeah, real tough,” Remus snorted.

“Reg’s coming down, too?” James asked.

Sirius glanced up with a smile. “He’ll be here next Tuesday. His last exam is the 20th.”

“Poor kid,” Remus said as Talker made a noise of sympathy.

James craned his neck back toward the kitchen, never loosening his hold around Lily. “Hey, Knutty, your partner in crime is coming home to help you torture us for the holidays!”

There was no response. Olli sat up from his place splayed out in front of the fire with a groan and squinted into the kitchen, then rolled his eyes with a fond shake of his head before flopping back down. “Harzy’s tormenting him with a cookie cutter, and Tremz is eating the dough. How did a nice boy like him get tangled up with those two, again?”

“Someone should probably save him,” Lily remarked without making even a twitch to get up. James kissed the sliver of bare skin between her sleeve and shoulder and she winked, dropping one on his cheekbone in return. Even after nine years, the brush of her lips still made his stomach flip-flop.

“And you have the nerve to call us embarrassing,” Sirius said drily. James stuck his tongue out and Sirius pulled a face right back at him.

“You two cannot be in the same room together,” Lily half-laughed. “Re, I think we married five-year-olds on accident.”

Remus scrunched his nose up. “D’you think it’s too late to return them?”

“Yes,” James and Sirius chorused, causing a fresh wave of laughter to ripple through their friends.

“Tremzy, leave baby goalie alone,” Kuny said sleepily as he leaned back against Nado’s legs from his spot on the floor. “Want snowman cookies before nap.”

“He loves me!” Logan’s disembodied voice called back.

“No, I don’t!” Leo laughed. “Now stop eating everything, you’ll make yourself sick!”

“But it’s good!” Logan protested.

There was a light snap of a towel and James buried his laughter in Lily’s upper arm. “Out of my kitchen, all of y’all.”

Y’all, James mouthed to Talker, who hid his smile in his hand as his shoulders shook. Finn and Logan trooped out a moment later, looking thoroughly admonished—they snuggled up on the smaller couch, though James noticed the gap left between Logan’s feet and the arm rest. He wondered if they were doing it on purpose, or if it had simply become a habit over the past two years. The thought warmed him to his bones.

They sat in relative silence, enjoying the fire and each other’s company as snow fell heavy outside and quiet murmurs buzzed through the house. A storm had been brewing all day; he hoped the flurry wouldn’t get too bad before it was time to head back. Harry was out cold in Katie’s old nursery, but he never liked being away from home for too long. Then again, James didn’t think any of them would mind a few days to spend together. Dumo and Celeste always invited people to stay over after parties.

Leo padded out of the kitchen a moment later, wiping his floury hands on his thighs before sliding right into the free space and folding himself against Logan with a hum. “They’re so cute,” Lily said, barely above a whisper. He nodded, resting his head on her collarbone; her hand settled back into his hair a moment later and he ran his thumb in small circles over her hip. “I’m glad they found each other.”

“Ditto,” he mumbled.

The conversations lulled after that; the earlier drowsy haze slid fully into naptime territory and James felt the shift in the warm air. Dumo and Celeste were still putting the kids to bed, but it seemed the day had finally caught up to them all. Kuny’s light snoring picked up within five minutes, and Finn began to blink slower and slower until he nodded off with Logan curled up under his arm—Sirius yawned and tucked his face in the crook of Remus’ neck once more.

In the time it took for James to cast a cursory look around the room, Talker fell asleep as well. Kasey and Nat traded three kisses before he shifted onto his side and closed his eyes. A heavy, comfortable feeling blanketed James’ brain and he leaned his head into the bend of the armchair, close enough to nuzzle his cheek against Lily’s shoulder, but far enough that she could easily snuggle into him.

Families would start arriving soon, holiday chaos would reign until James wondered if this was the year he finally said Christmas was a scam and meant it, and practices would be back before they knew it. But there would be days of snowball fights and big family dinners and gathering everyone for pickup games, of gifts and troublemaking and a million mistletoe kisses from the most beautiful woman in the world.

He would watch the Cubs wend and weave in their own special way; he would see his best friend spend his very first holiday season as the second-happiest married man in the world. He would certainly get to snap a photo of Talker’s face when Noelle showed up three days early to surprise him, and drive Kasey and Nat to the airport to pick up Alex as they nearly vibrated out of his car in excitement.

But for the time being, James could close his eyes and let the snow fall outside. The future would have its own surprises. In the present, he would fall asleep surrounded by the best family he could ask for.

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luimagines · 3 years

Text

Cheesy Pick-Up Lines

Masterlist

Can’t get more self explanatory than this folks.

For Wind’s scenario, the reader is the same age.

Very cheesy lines up ahead. Viewer discretion is advised.

Time

“Do you believe in love at first sight- or I need to walk by again?” You raise an eyebrow at Time with a smirk and a cocky pose with a hand on your hip.

He looks down at you and fails to stop his own smirk in time.

However Time does not answer you.

You bite you tongue, a little frustrated at the lack of reaction and try with a different one. “You know if sexy was a crime, you’d be found guilty as charged.”

You wink this time for good measure.

Time snorts and shakes his head. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“...Trying to get you to blush.” You admit with a shy grin and a shrug.

“You’re going to have to do more than that.” His smirk grows.

“You could be a little cooperative.” You mutter and pout.

“Your lines need a little more work.” He begins to make his way toward you. “But there’s a golden rule to this that you should learn if you want a place to start.”

“Hey! What do you-” You stop short and gulp slightly as Time gets into your personal space. “...know...?”

Time takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and tilts your head up. It’s a gentle touch that catches you off guard and makes you feel smaller than you usually do when you’re next to him. He stares right into your eyes and your forced to do the same.

“Here’s the thing.” He begins and you swear his voice drops an octave. “I don’t consider myself a religious man... But when I first laid my eyes on you I knew that you were the answers to my prayers.”

Time lets you go and begins to walk away as if that never happened. “Delivery is key.”

You look after him, heart pounding, a little breathless and feeling the heat of his breath on your face still. Or maybe the heat is your blush.

Oh it’s on now.

Twilight

“Excuse me, Sir Twilight.” You wave to your friend and smile easily when he gives you his attention. “I am in need of a map.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“I-... Come on man, you don’t have to rain on my parade.” You pout slightly and refuse to give in when he chuckles at your theatrics.

“Oh, my apologies. What do you need a map for?” He smiles and places his hands on his hips.

“It appears I’ve gotten lost.” You hold your head up high and step closer to him.

“How? I’m right here. How are you lost?”

“I’ve gotten lost in your eyes.” You wink and faint on him slightly. “They’re just like the ocean! I’d gladly swim in them all day!”

Twilight pushes you off gently and flicks your forehead.

“Ow.”

“You’ll live. You’ve got thick skin.” He grins. “It’s not as thick as my shirt however. It’s made out of something not found just anywhere.”

“Oh yeah?” You rub the spot gently. “What’s it made of then country boy? Goat hair?”

“Oh you know... It’s boyfriend material.” He says with a shrug and spins around to walk away.

“Oh haha...” You smirk and walk a little faster to catch up to him. “Of course it is. Before you go, do you mind holding this for me?”

You stick your clenched hand out next to Twilight and he holds his own hand out without any thought to it. “Sure what is it?”

You don’t answer and instead place your hand down in his, unfurl your fingers and lace them with his. “Thanks, it was getting heavy.”

He snorts but continues to hold it for the rest of the walk.

Wild

“Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you I smile!” You jump on Wild’s back and hug him from behind, a laugh on your breath and a grin on your face.

Wild laughs as well and grabs your arms, spinning around for a moment before letting you fall. “That was cheesy.”

“It was supposed to be.” You wink.

“Do you even have a camera?” Wild rolls his eyes.

“That has nothing to do with what I said.” You pout slightly and put your hands on your hips. “But I know you do. You’re really good at using it to.”

“Not that good.”

“Wild you have natural talent, a gift if you will, at taking photos.” You nudge him with your arm and mockingly bow.

“I’m wouldn’t consider myself a photographer.”

“But incredibly good at taking them in the moment.”

“I suppose so.” Wild shrugs and tosses a cocky smile in your direction. ”I mean, I can definitely picture us together.”

You bite you lip in an attempt to hide your growing grin. “Do you have any raisins?”

“Nope.”

“How about dates?”

“None of those either.”

“Want to go on one with me?”

Wild pauses mid-step and blinks for a moment before turning to you. “Oh, you’re good.”

Sky

“What is it that you do for fun back in your home world?” Sky asks as your both walking through the forest for the day.

Grin and tilt your head in his direction. “I’m studying to become a historian. I’m especially interested in finding a date.” You send him a wink.

He scoffs but smiles good naturedly. “Of course. Naturally.”

“You?”

“I like the ride my loftwing through the sky and see the view. I wish I could show you guys but...”

“Maybe when we get there.” You nudge his shoulder and point up to the clouds above you. “Hopefully the skies look better there than here.”

“It’s absolutely is.” He looks up as well and you look over to him.

You lean in a little and snap, a large smile on your face. “I think I figured it out!”

“What?”

“No wonder the sky is grey- all the color is in your eyes.”

Sky bites his lip and puts his hand to his face to hide his growing smile and blush as he laughs. “Stop.”

“Did the sun just come out or did you smile at me?”

“Oh my god!”

Hyrule

“Hyrule, I have a question that I think only you can answer.” You say and wrap your arm around his shoulders.

This takes him by surprise and he’s quick to offer his assistance. “What is it?”

“You’re pretty good with magic right?”

“I know a few spells, sure, but if it’s about magic as a whole? You might better off with Legend.” Hyrule shrugs and offers an apologetic smile.

“But my question is about your magic.” You stress and poke his chest. “You see, before I get to where I’m going, let me ask you this. Are you a magician?”

“...I’d consider myself more a mage?” He tilts his head.

“Ok, prefect, explain this to me then, if you’d be so kind.” You can’t help but grin wildly. “Why is it then, that I’m looking at you, you make everyone else disappear?”

“I...I don’t know.’ Hyrule blushes all the way down to his neck and scratches it bashfully. He takes a minute to compose himself before grinning and tossing you a shy side eye. “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“Believe me, you’re the sweet one. You’re giving me a toothache over here!”

Hyrule shoves you away then and clamps his hands over his face but from what he doesn’t cover, you can see the wide grin from behind his hands.

Mission accomplished.

Legend

“You take that back Fancy Pants!” Legend shouted. “Or I’ll toss right into the heart of Death Mountain!”

“You couldn’t.” Warrior rolled his eyes. “Not without your oh- so- powerful bracelets and rings and hoard of items.”

“If I could change the alphabet, I’d put F and U together!”

Warrior snorted and walked away. “Just admit that you lost and leave it at that. There’s no need to embarrass yourself further.”

“You-!”

You sighed and walked up to where Legend was left fuming. “Great come back.”

“Shut up!”

“I wouldn’t take what he says to heart.” You shrug and smile at him. “I think he just gets a kick out of your reactions.”

“That brainless, boorish-”

“You want to know something?” You cut him off before he could go on a cursing spree for the next hour.

“Sure.” He spits. “Hit me with it. What do I care.”

“If I could change of the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.” You grin widely and wait for his reaction.

But you don’t get one.

Instead he stares at you unamused with his arms crossed and face flat. “Ok, I think I get what he means now.”

“What?” You raise and eyebrow and scoff. “Is that not good enough for you? Ok. How about this one then? You have so many items. Any chance that you have an extra heart? Mine’s been stolen!”

You complete the sentence with throwing yourself onto his side, hand on your forehead and looking up at him with the most blissful expression you can manage.

He snorts a little, forgetting his previous sour attitude and shoves you off.

“That’s low hanging fruit.”

“Geeze tough crowd.” You brush yourself off and grin at him. “Despite that, I have to say, even though we’re not socks, I think we’d make a great pair!”

“You’re impossible.” He smiles a little easier and begins to walk away.

Well, he might have missed your point but at least he was feeling better.

Four

You sigh and run your hand through your hair. It’s wet and sticking to your face as you get out of the lake.

Four is there on the other side and you find yourself grinning.

Despite the way everything seems to be sticking to you, you jog to where he is and stop in front of him. “Here I am! What are your other two wishes?”

He snorts and glances in your direction. He stills suddenly and no so subtlety looks you up and down.

“Like what you see?”

“It’s a good thing I brought my library card.” He says in response.

“You have your what now?”

“Because I am totally checking you out.”

You blink and laugh. Because yes, you are soaking wet and all your clothes are sticking to your figure.

“Huh.” You roll your eyes and sit next to him in the sun to dry off faster. “This spot open?”

“Go right on ahead.”

“I think I have something wrong with my eyes.” You grin.

“Wait, really?” He spin in his spot to look into them as if that’ll make or break the problem. “What’s the problem?”

“I just can’t seem to take them off of you.”

Four goes red immediately and shoves you away with one hand on his face and other on yours. “Ok, you win.”

Warrior

“So aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?” You slide up to where Warrior was sitting and lean on his shoulder, waiting for his reaction to your line.

He turns his head to look at you and you show him your cheesiest smile and he rolls his eyes.

“Wow...I’ve never heard that one before.” He snorts, letting it slide.

It clicks then that, that could have gone really bad considering it’s Warrior and he’s probably dealt with all kinds of harassments. But you count your lucky stars that he appears to be humoring you and isn’t offended at least.

“Alright, tough guy, what’s your best one?” You challenge and sit next to him.

“Really?”

“Yes. Prove me wrong. Go on. Do it.”

Warrior looks down at the ground for a second and looks back at you with that trade marked smirk, you associate him with. “Are you sure you can fire one back though? I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Why on earth would I be tired? It’s the middle of the day.”

“You were running through my mind all night. So, you must be tired. ” He says casually and looks away.

The blush is instantaneous on your face and you have to cough and look away from his stupid-charming face. That one... has a lot of implications..... depending on the audience..

A moment of silence passes and he laughs a little quietly under his breath. “That’s it? That’s all it took?”

“No.” You squeak and look at him head on.

Your blush still hasn’t gone away.

“I just...”

Warrior continues smirking. He’s enjoying this. “Cat got your tongue?”

You huff and look at the supplies in front of you. “It’s hardly my fault.”

“Sure it is.”

“You’re so beautiful that you made me forget my pick up line.”

Warrior stills and coughs in a similar manner that you did only seconds ago.

Now you’re both blushing messes.

Wind

“Hey Wind!” You call and run up to his side. “I just figured something out!”

“What is it?” Wind stops mid step and waits for you to reach his side.

You’re a little out of breath from running the distance but you grin wildly at him. “If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.”

He snorts and shoves you away slightly, continuing to walk along the trail behind the others. You can hear some of the older ones chuckles but you’re determined.

“I think out of everyone, you’re the cute one here, actually.” Wind smiles in your direction and it throws you off of your rhythm for a moment.

Enough so that you actually trip and fall on the trail, pain shooting from your knee.

“Woah, hey, are you ok?” Wind jogs back to you and helps you up.

You hiss and look at the damage. As far as scrapes go, it’s not that bad, but you are bleeding a little.

“Do you have a bandage?” You blink up at Wind. “I just scraped my knee falling for you.”

He blinked a bit, stunned and confused before a lightbulb seems to go in his head and he blushes brightly. He chuckles and places a hand be the back of his neck. Wind then gets down to his knees next to you and brushes the dirt from your knee. He’s very cute when he’s bashful, you think.

“Let me see what I have in my pack.” He says with a bright grin.

It’s not like the others are watching this all go down or anything....

They don’t say anything though, less they ruin the tenderness of budding crushes.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #I was excited to write this one #i wanted it to be just something short and fun #i hope some of ya'll smiled while reading this #it's low effort fluff #i don't know why i always put them in a forest #easy setting i guess

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petersnya · 3 years

Text

SOMETIMES PT.2

---NOT MY PIC--- PETER PARKER X FEM!READER

Warnings: SMUT, Fluff, Angst?? Idk lol

Word count:2145

COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THE STORY AND WANT ME TO CONTINUE! SHOULD I START WRITING FROM PETER OR Y/N’S POV?

[A/N]Heyyy! Soooo this is part of this series (I’ll link part one). Hope you guys enjoy it! PLEASE COMMENT AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK AND IF YOU WANT YOU CAN SEND ME MESSAGES AND ASK QUESTIONS I'LL ANSWER LOL. Anyway, I had fun writing this chapter so I hope you like it! -J.T.S xxx

PART ONE

During physics class, Peter was working on an upcoming project with Ned, but he spent most of his time sleeping. He was basically sleep deprived from patrolling the town and stopping crimes.

“Late night huh Pete?” Ned asked, nudging Peter's arm that was supporting his head in the palms of his hands as his eyes got heavy, starting to close.

“Yeah, had to stop some petty theft last night,” he began, a yawn interrupting him, “took longer than I thought.”

The bell rang, dismissing the students to their after-school activities, if you had none you would just go home. Peter and Ned gathered their things and headed to the school’s front doors- MJ catching up with them how she usually did.

“Man, you look terrible,” MJ said with a slight chuckle.

“Wow, thanks. You're such a great friend.” Peter retorted sarcastically. Ned wasn’t riding the bus home today, he had to go with his mom for something he refused to share with anyone but Peter; so Peter just decided to ask MJ to walk home with her.

“Sorry Parker, Y/N is picking me up today. You’re welcome to ride with us if you want though.”

Peter didn’t respond for a while, debating if it was worth the anxiety attack of being around her. Y/N was the only thing that was on his mind now. His attraction grew even more when she wore those glasses. He zoned out for a while till MJ snapped her fingers in front of his face. Blinking rapidly, his vision focused on MJ who was now reaching out to grab the handle of a car door. Y/N’s car. His breath hitched in his throat once he saw Y/N wearing those same glasses from last Friday, her hair in the messiest high-ponytail he had ever seen- but it was cute to him.

“Ya coming lover-boy?” Y/N said, looking Peter right in his wide brown eyes. He blushed at the nickname before answering.

“Yeah… I’m coming.”

The three teens got into the car and started on their way. “Hey losers, wanna go shopping?”

“Y/N you only wanna go to the mall to eat,” MJ said to Y/N who was now laughing loudly, throwing her head back in agreement with her. Suddenly, in the middle of her laugh, she let out a loud snort. The car went silent as Y/N covered her mouth with her hand. MJ and Y/N burst into laughter, Peter soon joining. They all joked and sang to the songs that played on the radio all the way to the mall.

///

“Dude!”

“Jeez Y/N, you scared me! What is it?” MJ said to her, clutching her chest from being startled. They all had gone to the food court and were now just walking around the mall and into random stores.

“There's a Build-A-Bear Workshop here!” she exclaimed excitedly, pointing at it like a child. Peter couldn't help but smile at how adorable she looked freaking out over a child’s store.

“Let's go in,” Peter said to the two of them. Y/N looked at him wide-eyed with a goofy smile on her face. Her eyes looked like they twinkled with excitement. She shoved her drink into MJ’s hand, fixed her glasses, then grabbed Peter’s hand while running into the store.

“Oooohh, I should get an H.P-themed bear!” Before Peter could even answer, Y/N dragged him to one of the workers, asking if she could get a custom bear. They went over to the station and started to build.

As Y/N was finishing up the bear, she turned to Peter, “Ok, I have a very serious question. What accessories should I get?” they were standing in the Harry Potter section, looking over all of the things they had to decorate the bear. Peter shrugged, but then, he had a great idea, “I-I think you should get the uh, the glasses. The ones like your dads…” he said in an unsure tone. Y/N looked at him with a soft smile on her face. She couldn’t help herself, she had no idea what came over her as she pulled Peter into a tight embrace. Peter hesitated before putting his arms around her waist- her arms draped over his neck.

At that moment, Y/N inhaled Peters sent heavily. She felt so… safe in his arms. Like nothing bad could touch her. She never wanted to break away- MJ’s voice brought them back to reality.

“You guys done, I need to get new converse,” she said with a smirk plastered across her face. Y/N quickly pulled away from Peter, a million thoughts running through her mind, but only one seemed to overpower the rest.

I would be in his arms forever if I could.

“Ma’am, would you like to add a voice to your bear?” the lady said to Y/N, causing her thoughts to disappear.

“Actually,” Y/N paused looking at Peter and MJ, “yes, I would.” She grabbed the recorder from the worker’s hand and sent her a small smile. She looked at the curly-headed girl and the brown-eyed boy was on either side of her. She explained her plan, “Ok, I want all three of us to say ‘Mischief Managed’, ok?”

“What does that mean?” Peter questioned, looking at the two girls. They both sent him a deadly stare. “Nevermind,” he mumbled.

“Ok, on three, one… two… three…”

“Mischief Managed!” the trio yelled, causing some customers in the store to turn their heads and stare at them. They all mumbled small sorry’s as they laughed.

///

“Ok, Peter what's one thing you hate?” MJ asked, turning to face him. They were all sitting in the car at a drive-in movie. Peter was now in the front seat while MJ was in the back. They all decided to just talk because the movie was pretty boring to them.

“Uhh, I can't stand sleeping with socks on.”

“I don't think anyone can Parker,” Y/N said, laughing slightly.

“Well what about you then?” he asked her, turning his full attention as he anticipated her answer.

“Easy, liars. Ugh, I hate liars! What’s the point? It’s not like I’m gonna judge you,” Y/N answered confidently. “See, that’s what I like about you, Parker. You are very honest,” she said with a genuine smile. Peter just loved her smile, the way it lit up her whole face.

“Welp imma go get some pizza from the stand back there,” MJ said as she got out of the car. Y/N and Peter sat there in silence for a moment- comfortable silence.

Y/N was the first to break the silence, as usual, “Hey, Pete. I just wanna thank you for the whole glasses thing last Friday. It really helped me realize that I should’ve worn the glasses the moment he gave them to me. It’s like I have a part of him with me now... And I love Harry Potter, obviously. Ya know, I took a quiz and found out what house I’m in! Can you believe that I’m in-“

“You’re welcome, Y/N” Peter interrupted her rambling, sending her a small smile. They stared into each other's eyes for a while, admiring one another. Peter got this warm feeling inside and had that same surge of energy he had when he first met her. Before even processing what he was about to do, he grabbed her hand without breaking eye contact. He fiddled with the ring she had on her thumb.

Y/N breath became shallow as her heart pounded at her chest.

“I’m in Slytherin,” she said randomly, looking down at how Peter’s hands played with hers. He let out a breathy chuckle. Their eyes met once again.

Y/N gathered all of her courage and quickly reached out her hand to grab Peter’s cheek, pulling him into her. Their lips were centimeters apart. She ran her thumb along Peter’s bottom lip, slightly parting it as she leaned in closer, catching his lips with hers. Their lips interlocked and it felt like heaven to the both of them.

They pulled apart from the soft kiss and slowly opened their eyes, starting again into each other's eyes searching for the words that weren’t said. Peter couldn’t contain himself anymore. His large hand grabbed the back of Y/N’s neck, pushing his lips into hers in a lust-filled kiss. Just like the one he had imagined.

This was the moment he had dreamt of and it was finally happening.

He ran his tongue over her bottom lip, begging for an entrance. She gave it to him without hesitation. His tongue slowly slipped into her mouth while her tongue ran into his.

Peter snaked his hands to her waist, lifting her from her seated position in the driver's seat. She complied and started to adjust to where she was sitting in his lap. His hands ran from her waist to her butt and gave it a tight squeeze.

Y/N let out a soft moan into Peter’s mouth. She slowly started to trail kisses down his neck as he massaged her thighs and ass.

Y/N hands got tangled in Peter’s brown curls. She began to suck on Peter’s neck, wanting to leave a mark. Peter let out a low groan at the sensation of her soft lips and wet tongue on his skin.

He lifted her head and connected their lips together once again. His veiny hand slipped between their body making its way down to her core.

Peter never did stuff like this, and neither did Y/N. all of this was new to them but their connection was so strong that they were willing to push the limits.

As Peter’s hand reached Y/N core, he placed two fingers right on top of where her clothed clit was. He began to draw circles against it. Y/N started to rock her hips over his fingers, yearning for more friction. She started to let out moans uncontrollably, whimpering at the euphoric feeling of his fingers pressed against her dripping core.

“Peter,” Y/N breathed out trying to catch her breath. Peter hummed in response while moving his lips down to kiss her neck.

Suddenly, Peter snapped out of the trance that he seemed to be in. This moment was the best moment of his life, but his damned mind couldn’t help re-play Y/N’s words on a lope: I hate liars. Why? Before they went to the movies and were still at the mall, Y/N had asked Peter about his Stark’s internship. And, of course, he couldn’t tell her the truth. So he just lied. Y/N looked so intrigued in the conversation but Peter couldn’t bear lying to her over and over again. He felt so guilty...

“Y/N,” Peter let out. “Y/N, we can’t do this.”

Y/N head snapped up, her glasses left crooked on her face. She looked stunned by his words. Her shoulders slumped as she started asking questions.

“What? Why? Am I not a good kisser? I’ve only kissed one person before but I don’t even really wanna count that. Does my breath smell bad? Ugh, I knew this was a bad idea- wait no! I didn’t mean it like that, I just knew you didn’t like me how I liked you… I’m so stupid.”

After Y/N was finished rambling, she put her face in her hands, trying to avoid eye contact with the chocolate-eyed boy.

Peter was speechless. He didn’t know what to say, because what he wanted to say was: no Y/N that’s not it at all. You are the most amazing girl I’ve ever met, I- I lied to you…

No. he couldn’t say that it would absolutely crush her and he couldn’t bear to hurt her. Peter put his hands on her waist, making Y/N jerk her body in shock. She let a small smile spread across her face, thinking Peter was going to hug her or make a cute gesture or even continue what they had started. He lifted Y/N and slid her back to the driver’s side.

Her smile dropped from her face and she pushed herself the rest of the way to the driver’s side. Peter sat there awkwardly, praying she wouldn’t say anything. It killed him to see the gloomy look on her face as she fixed her glasses.

“I’m back with pizza!” MJ announced as she made her way into the backseat. “Woah, hey, cuz what’s wrong?”

“We’re going home,” Y/N replied with a cold tone of voice. This shocked Peter and MJ. Y/N was usually so smiley, even after her dad passed. She always tried to find the light in every situation. But something was different with this. One thing Peter knew for sure,

I fucked up…

[A/N] HEY GUYSSSS SO I HOPE YOU LIKED PART TWO. SORRY, IT WAS UP A BIT LATE, IVE BEEN HAVING INTERNET PROBLEMS. ANYWAY, SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES (IM GONNA GO BACK AND FIX THOSE)

-J.T.S XXX

@love-granger

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jisungsplatforms · 3 years

Text

Humph!!

Pairing: Seo Changbin x fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut, minimal amount of angst (if you squint), fluff (happy happy ending!); non idol au, enemies to lovers, college au

Warning: Mature content! (DNI if you are uncomfortable or UNDERAGED); language, name calling, reader is kind of a jerk, erotic asphyxiation, use of pets names, hint of degrading, praise kink (implied), fingering (f), oral (f&m), PIV, unprotected sex (be careful with this!), unintended voyeurism (Chan and Jisung accidentally hears reader and Changbin getting it on)

Seo Changbin.

Or as you like to call him, the bane of your existence. You wouldn’t exactly call yourself the ‘petty type’ but how could you ever forget about the boy who pulled on your hair and cut in front of you during lunch time, only to get the last middle piece of pizza- a slice that was supposed to be yours, in middle school? And yes, while it is something so small, so trivial, that you should’ve easily forgotten all about it, you just couldn’t for he just seemed to pop up around you every. single. day. Oh, the list of ways he picked on you could go on and on. It was like whenever he saw you, he just had to push your buttons as if it’s his little demented mission to irk you for the rest of your life.

No one has ever made your blood boil more than he has. It makes your blood boil even more when you, yourself, couldn’t even deny the fact that the once scrawny, immature boy turned to the hottest, most muscular (and fuckable) man you’ve ever seen. Now here you are, as college juniors, and you two are still going at each other’s throats. And of course, no matter how older you get, the two of you will always find time to bicker with each other for the littlest things

“WHAT KIND OF AN IDIOT ARE YOU?” you yell, looking at Changbin in disgust. “WHAT NORMAL HUMAN BEING DOES THAT?!”

He rolls his eyes at you, clicking his tongue, “Well, excuse me for having COLD FEET. SO WHAT YOU THINK ITS WEIRD? I GET COLD EASILY AT NIGHT SO LET ME WEAR MY SOCKS TO SLEEP IN PEACE, WOMAN!” Changbin yells back, glaring at you.

Ahh, yes. Today’s fight is now on whether or not wearing socks to bed is considered ‘abnormal’. Cause what else could you argue about?

“BUT…It’s so WEIRD! Can’t you, like, invest in some thicker blankets instead? There are better options than wearing SOCKS IN BED.”

“WHAT? IS IT A CRIME TO WEAR SOCKS TO-”

Jisung interrupts Changbin by slamming one of his hands down onto the table. “God… SHUT UP! CAN YOU TWO JUST FUCK ALREADY?!” he moans in irritation. Chan lightly shoves Jisung in retaliation, scolding him for being too loud. Jisung looks at him and pouts, mumbling a quick ‘sorry’. Chan sighs, finally looking at your startled faces .

“He’s kinda right though,” he says, calmly, “not exactly about the, uhm, having sex part, though the sexual tension between you two is nauseating. But I mean about getting along with each other and finally putting an end to this ‘rivalry’.”

You and Changbin glance at each other for a brief second before scoffing. “Please. Hell would freeze over before we do,” you sneer, side eyeing him.

“I’d rather kiss an electric eel than make up with that snake of a woman,” Changbin mumbles, looking away from you.

“How about I arrange that for you?” you smile, using the fakest sweet voice you could muster. Changbin turns to you with a scoff.

“You are such a-”

“Enough!” Chan says with a stern tone he almost never uses. The look Chan was giving you both was enough to shut you up and intimidate you; hell even Jisung was scared! “Either make up on your own by the end of the month, or else. Understand?”

Both you and Changbin sigh in irritation before agreeing. “Yes…”

“I mean it! Y/n, Changbin! This is getting ridiculous now. Honestly, you guys are full grown adults but you act like children, and not the good ones! Think of the other people you’re affecting with your behaviors.”

Silence fell upon your whole table. You could only nod your head shamefully at Chan’s words, while Changbin clicks his tongue but not say anything else. Jisung looks around the table, the uncomfortable silence making the poor boy feel antsy.

“Good,” Chan leans back, his cheerful demeanor coming back, “One month, that’s it. And play nice!”

“This is stupid,” Changbin groans, leaning back on his chair. You roll your eyes at him.

“Shut it. Remember, this is for the sake of our friends.”

Ever since that day- the day Chan scared the shit out of you both- you and Changbin made an agreement to try and be civil around one another. It wasn’t very nice, but you both knew Chan was right. You didn’t want to lose your friends because of some stupid rivalry that started 9 years ago. To fix your problem, the two of you, begrudgingly, decided to hangout with each other for the next month. Today marks your one week anniversary of your treaty.

Needless to say…you both hate it.

“If we have to hangout, can we not spend our time in a library?” the short man complains, looking at you with his sharp eyes.

“Well, sorry, but I have a chemistry test in a few days and I’m sure as hell not failing that. You know Science isn’t my best subject.”

Changbin groans, sliding down his chair. “Whatever.” he mutters distastefully. You shook your head.

“Don’t you need to study for anything too?” you asked, not even sparing him a glance.

“No. I’m done with all the tests I have to do and none of my other teachers prepped us for another one. So I’m basically free, doll.”

You cringe at Changbin calling you ‘doll’, hating how that simple pet name sent a delighted shiver down your back. You scoff.

“Disgusting,” you grimace, “Never call me that again.”

Changbin smirks, now sitting up on his chair to lean closer to you. “Whatever you say, doll.”

You look up at him with a nasty glare, resisting the urge to yell at him. “You are so lucky we’re in a library.” He laughs sardonically at you. You huff, standing up to look for a chemistry book. Changbin looks at you questioningly.

“Where’re you going?”

“Looking for more books.”

He sighs, starting to stand up as well. “No,” you stop him, “By myself.” He put his hands up, slowing sitting back down. You turn around and walk to the aisle containing the textbooks. After almost 10 minutes of searching, you still couldn’t find the book you were looking for.

“Damn, I was beginning to think you left me here by myself.”

You jolt at the sound of Changbin’s rough voice. You turn to see him leaning against the bookshelf.

“I’m not that much of a jerk,” you answer scornfully, going back to your search. You could hear Changbin’s heavy footsteps grow closer. You turn to see him standing right beside your crouching figure, looking down at you. The angle you’re seeing him in shouldn’t be making you think of such indecent thoughts. You snap your head back to the shelf as Changbin crouches with you, softly groaning as he goes down. You were trying your best not to make contact with him.

Changbin helps you look for a chemistry book, trying to be nice. You could feel yourself getting hotter at his courteousness. You really didn’t want to admit that Changbin was actually a decent person, so you couldn’t help but put up a front.

“I don’t need your help, you know?”

He sniggers, “I’m not trying to be nice. I just wanna get out of here faster.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not getting his joke. “Geez, then get away from me,” you raised your voice, still keeping the fact that you’re still in a library in mind. “I can do it myself.”

Changbin looks at you, a little shocked. He huffs, sticking his tongue against his cheek. “Honestly, you don’t have to be such an ass around me all time, you know?” he says, quietly. You stop your actions, feeling a little bad for snapping at him. “You said yourself, you want us to try getting along, why can’t you act like it?”

You bit your bottom lip, still not looking at him. “Simple. It’s cause I hate you,” you lied. He looked at you for a few seconds before standing up. You didn’t see the look of defeat on his face.

“You know,” Changbin says slowly, “I thought we could be friends. Deep down, I really thought we actually could.” You stayed quiet, looking down. “But now I know, you’re really just a stone-cold bitch.”

That. Now that lit a fire in you. You stand up abruptly with cold eyes. “Never call me that ever again.”

“What? A bitch?” He challenges, eyes equally as cold as yours. “See, here’s the thing; It’s true. I’m trying to be nice here and you’re just shutting down every single nice act I try to do for you. And what have you done for me? Drag me around like I’m some dog? You couldn’t even have the decency to even ask where I wanted to go.”

You could feel yourself get smaller and smaller with every step he took closer to you. For someone who was only 5’6”, damn did he look big. You bit the inside of your cheek when you felt your back hit the wall.

“What’s your problem with me, Y/n? I’ve seen the way you are with Jisung and Chan. I’ve seen the way you are with your other friends. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but ever since we started college, I’ve been trying to be nicer to you. But I guess it makes sense that someone as self-centered as you wouldn’t notice.”

You let out a sarcastic “ha”. You shake your head and stare into his eyes. “I told you. I. don’t. like. you. Do I need any more of a reason?”

“Yes. Yes, you do actually.”

“Hm. Find then. You’re annoying, you’re loud, you’re simple-minded, childish, irresponsible, you don’t take things seriously, you’re whiny, messy, irritatingly cocky and seeing your face is just so infuriated that it makes me nauseous,” you list. “Want more?”

The deadly look on his face simultaneously frightens and arouses you. The sarcastic smirk he gave you, though, was hotter. “Continue.”

“You’re nothing but a show off.” With those words, Changbin’s arrogant facade broke. “You act so cool and cocky when really you’re just average at best. Everything you do. Average. You don’t have much to show for. Nothing you do is worth being proud of.”

Changbin slams his hands onto the wall, making you gasp. You stare at him with wide eyes. “Take that back,” he snarls. If you thought he was intimidating before, boy were you wrong. But something in your touch starved mind made you more horny than frightened. Feeling bold, you tilt your chin up, maliciously. “Or what, Seo?”

All of a sudden, he wraps his veiny arm around your neck, choking you. It was so arousing and so sudden that you let out an embarrassingly whiny moan. “Oh?” Changbin raises a brow with a smirk. He tightens his grip on your neck, laughing cockily when you let out another whine. “Oh, I see now,” he whispers in your ear, “You act so high and mighty, always trying to take control of things, when really you’re just some sub in disguise. Isn’t that right, doll?”

You bit your lip, eyes tearing up in sexual frustration. You eyes roll back, biting your lip harder, when his grip on your throat tightens. “Aww~ how cute. You look so pathetic like this, baby,” he says, biting the shell of your ear. You arch your back at the stimulation, grinding your hips into his with a whimper. You were so glad that you were at the farthest corner of the library. Changbin moves away from you and grabs your arm. “Let’s go. We’re leaving.”

He drags you back to your table and carelessly stuffs your belongings into your bag. He slings it over his should and harshly pulls you out of the library. His apartment wasn’t that far from the library so the two of you didn’t bother picking up a cab. The walking distance between the library and his house was only about 10 minutes or less, but to you guys, it felt like hours.

Changbin fumbles with his keys, wanting to unlock the door faster. When he succeeds, he pushes you inside, slamming and locking his door roughly. He throws your bag to the ground then proceeds to pull you into his room. He turns the knob and kicks his door open.

Once inside, he pushes you onto his bed, hovering above you. The two of you were panting heavily from the tension. “Please tell me to stop,” he breathes shakily, staring at your lips, finally saying his first words since the library. “If you don’t want this, tell me to stop before I lose it.”

Did you really want this? Do you really want him? Or is it just your hormones talking? You contemplate, thinking back on all the years you’ve known him. Yeah, you thought that he was annoying when you were younger, wanting nothing more than to push him down a well. However, as you grew up, you started to notice how mature he has gotten throughout the years. He still does make fun of you, but it wasn’t as bad as before. He did treat you like an actual human being when he wasn’t irritating you. Especially recently. He really did treat you nicely but you were too prideful yourself to admit that.

Even up to now, you said some really hurtful things to him, and he was still making sure you were okay when he could’ve just lashed out on you and done whatever he wants. Changbin is genuinely a really nice guy and you were just too stuck up to see that. In that moment, you realize that you actually like Changbin, as in, have genuine feelings for him. Maybe even way longer than you realize but you were being stubborn to acknowledge it. Speaking of, you seem to realize that you were so lost in thought that Changbin took your silence as a ‘no’.

Just as he was about to remove himself from your body, you grab onto his shirt and push your lips onto his. He was taken aback. He was convinced that you truly didn’t like him but you seem to have proved him wrong. Before he could kiss you back, you parted away from him, leaning your forehead against him. “Make me yours, Bin,” you whisper.

Without any hesitation, Changbin kisses you with fervor. The kiss held so much passion, desperation, and desire that it made you moan. You wrap your arms around his neck, messing with his dark hair. Changbin groans, grinding his hips against yours. He pulls away to take off your shirt and start marking you up. You mewl, feeling him suck, lick, and kiss your neck.

One particular suck on the juncture of your neck made you moan out loud. He smiles against your skin, taking extra time on that area. You cry out, pulling on his hair to get his attention. “Changbin…” you say breathlessly. He looks up and nearly loses it on the spot. You laying underneath him, neck covered with sexy red marks that he created. You already look so dazed out that Changbin wonders how much more beautiful you will look when he actually fucks you.

He moves up to your face, stroking your hair. “What’s wrong, doll?” he questions you softly. You whimper as you roll your hips up to meet his. Changbin hisses at the feeling.

“Inside,” you whine, “Want you inside me, please.”

“Do you now?” Now his tone was condescending. You pout, nodding your head. “Cute. What makes you thing that I’d just give it to you after how much of a brat you were earlier?” You rub your thighs together, pouting.

Tears starts forming in your eyes. “Please? I’m sorry for being a brat. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”

Changbin chuckles darkly. “Oh, you will, doll,” he says, rubbing both your thighs. He glances up at you to read your expressions, only continuing when you gave him a confirming nod. He sits up and takes off your pants. He chuckles, licking his lips when he realizes that your bra and panties were a matching set. “How adorable.” he sings, making you flustered.

Changbin kisses your stomach before slipping his hand down your panties. You clench your thighs, trapping his hand, as he plays with your clit. He rubs slow circles on your clit, stroking your slit before sliding one finger inside you. You grab a fistful of his bed sheets, moaning. He lazily moves his finger in you, adding another one to fill you up a little more. You were already breathless. Your sweet moans filling up the entire room. Changbin starts to move his fingers faster, bending them, making you arch your back and whine louder.

You could already feel your high getting closer. You start squirming around in response. “Close, baby?” he asks, rhetorically. You nod your head frantically.

“Y-yes, fuck. Oh shi- yes.”

Changbin pumps his fingers faster for you, feeling yourself clenching tighter and tighter before you finally cum around them. He lets you ride out your high before slipping out of you. He brings his fingers to your lips, prying them open. “Open up, doll.” You let his fingers inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself, making the two of you groan. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, sliding down so his face meets your wet core.

You look down at him, questioningly. You were about to ask him what he was doing until he licks up your slit. Your eyes widened as you threw your head back, letting out a moan loud enough that it borderline sounded like a scream. His tongue explores your pussy, occasionally sucking on your clit as you pant.

“N-no,” you stammer, “that’s not-n-no. I-I’m still sensi-ah!” You grip his hair, not sure if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer. Changbin chuckles at this, the vibrations from it shooting up your core. Your sensitivity from your first orgasm brought you closer to your next release. You start bucking your hips, thighs closing in on his head as your core tightens. He grabs your thighs, prying them open. One last harsh suck on you clit made you cum again, this time on his tongue. Changbin licks up your slit, gathering up every single drop of your juices.

He sits up and smiles at you, his chin covered with your excess wetness. He rubs your thighs to calm you down. “You good, Y/n?” he worryingly asks, “Think you can handle one more?” You lazily nod your head, a little overwhelmed with the over sensitivity. Changbin wipes his mouth before crawling back to your face. He kisses you leisurely, taking his time with your lips to give you more time to calm down.

You hold onto his muscular biceps as he cups your face. You were still panting harshly even before he started making out with you. He peppers your face with gentle pecks, encouraging you to continue. “How ‘bout now? Can you handle one more orgasm, babe?”

This time, you could actually reply to him. “Y-yeah. ‘Think I can.” you said, quietly. Changbin smiles and gives you one more peck on your lips. He leans up and takes off his clothes. Even after two orgasms, you still felt needy for Changbin. Your eyes rake down his form, eyeing each one of his bulging muscles. Damn, no wonder why he’s always bragging about going to the gym everyday, cause he has every right to do so.

Now, if you thought his body was impressive, then his cock was another story. Your eyes widens, breath hitching when you see it. Holy shit, now I know why he’s so short, you thought. He has a monster cock that totally makes up for it. “Holy fuck-“ Changbin looks at you with a smirk.

“What’s wrong, doll? Bigger than you expected?” You nod dumbly, mouth ajar. Changbin could feel his ego skyrocketing. He pumps himself, throwing his head back in pleasure, finally feeling some kind of pleasure before lining himself to your hole. He adjusts his position, spreading your legs wider as well. “I’ll go as slowly as I can,” he mutters. You mumble a quiet ‘thank you’ as he starts pushing in.

Your mouth opens in a silent scream, eyes clenching as you try to take him in fully. Changbin moans rather loudly, your tightness a little too much for him. “W-wait. Fuck…” you call out with slight hiss. He stops his penetration, waiting for you to adjust. Your grip on his shoulders tightens, silently giving him the ok to move. He continues his advancement slowly until he bottoms out inside you. The both of you moan, giving each other time to relax.

Changbin leans down to kiss your cheek, whispering encouraging words to you. You stay in your positions for almost a minute before pleading for Changbin to move. At first, his thrusts were slow, testing out how well you could take him in for now. You moan softly, the way his hips move softly is already shooting bursts of pleasure throughout your body. Gradually, he picks up his pace, his once slow, loving thrusts are now hungry, desperate ones.

His hands were now on the back of your thighs, folding you in half. The new position allows him to reach deeper inside you. “B-bin,” you whine, clawing at his back, “hmm…fuck. M-more. Fuck me harder.”

“Harder? You really think your pretty little pussy can handle my cock, doll?”

“Yes! P-please g-give me more. I can handle i-it!”

Changbin laughs at your desperation, picking up his pace. You moan louder, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. Changbin’s soft moans and growls and your own whiny moans filled his bedroom. Neither of you knew who would break first, both of your releases nearing. The tip of his cock starts hitting right on your sweet spot, making you scream. He throws his head back with a loud, raspy moan when he feels you tightening around him.

“I’m s-so fucking close, Bin,” you cry, “Don’t s-stop!”

“My, what a desperate slut you are.”

He bites his lip, hips moving harder and deeper, as he leans closer to kiss you. Remembering the scene from the library, Changbin’s right hand snakes around your neck, firmly but gently choking you.You let yourself enjoy the feeling of him blocking your airways, closing your eyes in pleasure. You whine loudly when he slips his tongue in your mouth. You let him explore your wet cavern, loving the feeling. Your eyes shot open when you felt his thumb playing with your clit.

“Sh-shit! Changbin!” You moan, arching your back. You could feel the beginnings of your release.

“C’mon,beautiful,” Changbin whispers, “Cum for me.” His words seem to have triggered your orgasm. Your body went stiff, cumming around his cock, mumbling a bunch of expletives. You start trembling, the feeling of your orgasm was too intense. Changbin hisses, pulling himself out of you when he felt his own release nearing.

He pulls you up, pushing your head close to his throbbing dick. Getting the memo, you lean down and take him into your mouth. You bob your head up and down as you pump the rest of his cock. Changbin moans, his rough hand in your hair. He starts rocking his hips, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. One harsh tug on your scalp made you moan, the vibrations sends waves of pleasure down his cock making him throw his head back yet again.

“What a dirty little girl,” he pants heavily. “Love my cock that much, huh, doll?” Tears pool your eyes as you try humming in agreement. The second round of vibrations sent Changbin over the edge. Hot spurts of cum shoots down your throat. He holds your head in place until he finishes cumming. “That’s it, beautiful. Swallow it all. Don’t let anything go to waste.”

He lets go of your head and gently pushes you down his bed. He cups your cheek, rubbing it tenderly with his thumb. Changbin reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, throwing it down onto his floor and rubbing at your breast to soothe you, only letting go of them when you let out an uncomfortable whine. He moves up to your face and kisses you softly.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” he questions you. You nod, too fucked out to respond verbally. Changbin giggles, moving to lay beside you and petting your hair as you calm yourself. You turn your body to hug his, slightly catching him off guard. He immediately relaxes, however, and continues stroking your hair. The two of you lay comfortably until Changbin broke the silence.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, quietly. You note the tone of uncertainty in his words. Your eyes meet his in question.

“Mean what?” you slur, still having a bit of trouble talking.

“Did you mean what you said in the library? Do you really hate me? Was this just a…one time thing?”

You look at him sadly, his expression matching yours. He didn’t want this to be just a one night stand. He genuinely wants to be friends with you. Scratch that, he wants to be even more than that. You nibble on your lips, shaking your head.

“No…I don’t actually hate you…Yeah, you piss me off a lot but…I can’t actually hate you,” you say, moving your hands to cup his face. You could feel Changbin leaning into your touch. “Honestly, I don’t even remember when I started liking you. I guess I only just realized it now when you pushed me onto your bed.”

Changbin moves away from you in shock. “You…like me?” You timidly nod your head, a little embarrassed now. He lets out the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him and kisses you. This time, this kiss was soft, filled with so much love and unsaid feelings. You giggle into the kiss, holding his face. Changbin pulls away from you and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes twinkling in joy. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

You smile, moving to peck his lips. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, “For everything I said. It was uncalled for and kinda mean. Scratch that, I really was a fucking bitch to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Changbin hums, rubbing your back. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I get why you said all that. I mean, this whole rivalry started ‘cause of me, so this was kinda my fault to begin with.”

“No, it’s not. We both brought this upon ourselves, Bin, so we’re both at fault.”

“I guess…Let’s just start over?”

You contemplate. “I think,” you start cautiously, “It’s better if we don’t.”

“Huh?” Changbin was confused. “What do you mean no?”

“I mean, I don’t really want to forget about our past and pretend our years of bickering never happened. We already fell for each other’s bad qualities, so why should we, you know? There’s nothing for us to hide at this point.”

Changbin had a look of realization on his face, drawing out a long ‘ah’. “I like that,” he laughs. “You’re right. Let’s do that!” He pulls you closer to his broad chest, kissing the top of your head. He hugs your form tighter, as if he was afraid that this was a dream. “Oh yeah, what’re we gonna tell Chan and Jisung when we show up together all lovey-dovey?” he wonders out loud.

“No need to tell us anything!” a voice sounding a lot like Jisung’s calls out from the other side of Changbin’s door. “We’ve been home for 15 minutes now. We heard almost everything! Chill out goddamnit!” You both could hear Chan in the distance, yelling at Jisung for saying that while he goes on about how you two “actually did it, they finally got laid!”.

“Oh my god…” you groan in mortification while Changbin drowns with laughter. You hide your face on Changbin’s chest, feeling it shake from his laughs. “Looks like we got that down!” he jokes. You slap his chest with a whine.

Yup. Today now marks the end of the Seo-L/n war, and damn were you glad it did.

~End~

A/n: hi. if you didn’t know, this is actually a repost yay :) cause after all this time, this fic still hasn’t shown up in the tags cause t*mblr is a little bi-

#stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #seo changbin smut #seo changbin imagines #shame cause i was actually proud of this fic 🥲

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Twelve

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: this took so long bc ive been reading chain of iron and in general agonizing over things i cant control instead of being productive 🥴 that being said, absolutely none of the events in this chapter were planned in my outline, but here we are with something new!

***

December brings more snow and bone chilling weather, to the point where Cassian has to drag Nesta out of bed, either physically or by phone call, to get her to therapy appointments on time.

She’s in the waiting room one freezing morning when, in her utter boredom, she musters up the nerve to turn to the girl sitting next to her. “What are you in here for?”

The girl blinks her large blue eyes, taking notice of Nesta for the first time. Nesta uses the opportunity to take in her freckle-painted face, a little wan but beautiful. Reddish brown hair hangs around her face and shoulders, creating a thick curtain from the rest of the world, and Nesta’s curiosity piques like she’s just found a shiny new toy.

It probably isn’t right to compare people to toys, but then the girl says, “This isn’t prison, you know.” Her voice is deep, almost sultry— completely at odds from her huddled-in posture and sickened expression. “I didn’t commit a crime to have to be here.”

Is she insulted by Nesta’s question, or is she poking a joke? Nesta decides to play it safe by murmuring, “Sorry, never mind.”

She starts to turn away when the girl says, “We’re trying a new type of trauma therapy today. I had to get here half an hour early because I couldn’t swallow my nerves.”

Nesta might lack many social skills, but she isn’t stupid enough to ask what kind of trauma the girl is being treated for. Instead, she nods casually as if she understands the struggle. “I’ve been coming here for weeks now and I’ve barely discussed shit. That’s mostly on me, but you know…” She actually doesn’t know where she’s going with her train of thought. “It sounds brave to do whatever you're doing,” she states finally. “I don’t think I’ll be able to open up that much about myself, ever.”

The girl gives Nesta a weird look that she immediately recognizes. Nesta uses it every time she doesn’t know how to respond to someone who takes her by surprise.

The door to Lana’s office clicks open, and the woman herself pokes her head out with a plain smile. “Ready, Nesta?”

Nesta bites down on her frown. She has a feeling today won’t be as easy as her past sessions.

She’s about to leave without another glance at the girl beside her when that low voice speaks up. “I’m Gwyn.”

Nesta looks back at her as she gets up from her chair, and says the first reply that comes to mind: “Good to know.”

***

Nesta is contemplative hours after she gets back from her therapy session, bundled up in her bed with a coloring book. The repetitive motion of filling in the mandala drawing lets her mind wander, picking up and dropping different thoughts like she’s inspecting stones.

She keeps her wrist light as she colors in with red. She finally said Tomas’s name in therapy today, though the action left a slimy feeling in Nesta’s stomach that lingers even now. She also spoke about her sisters, which somehow ended up leading to a discussion of her uterus.

“How have you been dealing with the endometriosis news?”

Nesta shrugged. “I’m getting treated, and my last period was more bearable than usual—”

“I mean mentally, how are you doing? With how your condition could affect your future?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Affect me how?”

“Have you never considered the impact it could have on your ability to bear children?”

“Not everything in life is about bearing children, you know.”

“We’re humans. It’s definitely something to consider.”

“Not for me. I’ve never wanted kids.” A mistruth at best. “I don’t care what endo does or doesn’t do to me on those grounds.”

In a way, Nesta told herself, the health risks were actually for the best. If she ever did, by some stupid loss of sanity, try to have children, then her body would act as a safety net from her decisions.

Lana only said, “You’ll never know how much you care or don’t care until you talk out your feelings.”

“Then I guess we’ll never know.”

Nesta lets the memory of that conversation drop like a stone on a shore. That’s not something she has to face for a good long while. No, right now she has to face her past.

Her sisters, and her ex, and even her father—

I wonder if I came off too strong with Gwyn today.

Her hand stops drawing, and she switches out her red marker for an orange one. This thought she doesn’t mind inspecting for a little longer: she and Gwyn ended up leaving their sessions at the same time, which meant they were forced into stilted conversation on the way down to the parking lot.

Not forced, Nesta self-corrects. She willingly initiated a conversation, and it didn’t go terribly. She wonders if making friends in therapy waiting rooms is a real thing.

Her phone vibrates beside her, breaking her hours-long mental bubble. Blinking dazedly, she answers the phone call.

“How are you?” is the first thing Cassian says to her. He makes sure to ask her that at least twice a day, like a gauging of her temperature. It makes Nesta wonder what she’s ever done in her life to call for such… attention to her well-being.

“I’m good,” she answers honestly. “My head’s a little loud right now, but I don’t mind it.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No, I’d rather hear you talk.” She slumps back against her pillows, coloring book forgotten. “What’s up?”

“Ah...” Cassian sounds hesitant for the first time since their relationship started. “It’s just that I haven’t gotten my Christmas decorations up yet, and I was going to ask if you wanted to help.”

Nesta takes a moment to absorb his words. “It’s December fifth,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“You just seem like somebody who does their decorations the day after Thanksgiving.”

“Well, this year is a little different, with you moving out and being busy with school…” He pauses. “I was waiting to do it with you.”

When she doesn’t reply, Cassian adds, “I don’t even know if you care about Christmas. I know you and your family sort of ignored holidays. It’s fine if you don’t want to—”

“I’ll be over right now,” Nesta blurts.

Half an hour later, Cassian swings open his door with a smug grin on his face; a vast difference from the stammering hesitance he displayed over the phone earlier. Nesta’s own lips want to pull up into a smile just at the sight of him, but she holds back and narrows her eyes instead. “What’s got you so worked up?” she questions as she steps into the warmth of the cabin and out of the freezing cold.

“The way you ran over here as soon as I asked.” He looks her up and down, still amused. “You didn’t even bother to change, did you?”

It’s true: she’s in the same sweatpants and long sleeved tee she wore around home, and her socked feet are shoved into slippers.

“Get that smirk off your face.” Nesta flicks his nose before tossing her coat off. “If this is a competition about who’s got a bigger puppy-crush for whom, you already won when you delayed putting up your Christmas decorations for me.”

“Fair enough,” he grins. The words send an unexpected pang through Nesta, because it’s partly true, isn’t it? He cares more openly for her than she does for him.

She looks away in guilt, not knowing how to fix the imbalance. Her eyes land on the living room coffee table, where their half-finished jigsaw puzzle sits. It’s been stored under the couch for the past few weeks, forgotten by Nesta and Cassian alike as they moved on with their lives, but now it’s sitting out again.

“Have you been working on the puzzle without me?” She raises an inquisitive brow, about to feel— hurt.

“Never,” Cassian promises, saving her from that irrational hurt. “I just brought it out because I figured we should get to finishing it one day.”

She pads over to the table, picking up a puzzle piece and turning it over in her hand. “I don’t know if you remember, but we had a terrible time working on this,” she scoffs lightly.

“Oh, I remember,” he says, coming up behind her and stealing the piece from her grasp. “I think it’s safe to say those evenings were the worst fights we’ll ever have together.”

Nesta leans back against Cassian’s chest and hums. “It made us a stronger couple, don’t you think?” She turns her head up and back to meet Cassian’s eyes, finding that he’s already looking down at her.

Hypnotized, she leans into his warmth. She only manages to land the smallest kiss against his lips when his hand squeezes her ass cheek. “You’re here for a job, remember?” He taps her butt before pulling away, gesturing to the Christmas tree in the corner of the living area with his chin. It stands bare. “You do tinsel, I’ll do lights.”

Tinsel is harder to work with than Nesta remembers. She only manages to get half the tree done before plopping onto the Persian rug, exhausted and covered in silvery material. She doesn’t mind laying there while Cassian continues working; it’s her revenge for when he napped on her bed while she moved in.

“You know the stair railings still need to be wreathed, Archeron.”

Nesta declines to respond, tilting her head on the carpet for a better view of her boyfriend’s ass instead. “All this decorating,” she starts. “Is it just for you?”

Cassian turns to her, surprised. “Well…”

She pushes up onto her elbows, catching her mistake. “Are we doing Christmas together? Or are your friends coming over?” She hasn’t bothered to celebrate Christmas in years now, and she doesn’t care much what Cassian’s plans are either way.

“I was hoping for both?” He sounds hesitant. “Christmas Eve is all the way over in Velaris, but I was thinking we could go together, open some presents, and come back and spend Christmas here.”

Nesta purses her lips. She doesn’t actually hate that plan. Both Feyre and Elain have been pestering her with the annual texts asking her to visit for Christmas, and for once, she feels like responding to them. The invitation is more of a formality than an actual request at this point; she doubts her sisters want her there after years of rejections, but… what’s the harm?

“Is that a yes?” Cassian asks at her unreadable face.

“Yes,” she states unflinchingly. She refuses to overthink the possible consequences of this choice and chooses to focus on the broad grin overtaking Cassian’s face. “Really?” he says.

“But there has to be rules.” Nesta sits up fully now. “No one can know we’re together, no matter how much you trust or love them.”

“We already agreed to that, baby.”

Yes, but Nesta knows the secret weighs on him heavier than he shows— even if he agrees with her that it's for the best. “It’ll be different when we’re together in the same room as everyone else,” she says. Cassian wears his beating heart on his sleeve, and she doesn’t think he’s ever had to hide it before.

“You’ll also be different,” she adds. “It’s a huge change of pace.”

Cassian drops the remaining strand of lights and smiles confusedly down at her. “What do you mean, I’ll be different?” He sits across from her, before the blazing fire.

“You know how you get around your friends.” Nesta shrugs without a thought. “Like your personality readjusts to mirror the people around you. I used to find it a mix of sad and adorable, like a neglected puppy desperate for love, but now I— okay, I still feel the same way.” She waves a hand in a dismissive gesture.

By the look on Cassian’s face, he does not find her words so easily dismissed.

Coldness curdles in the pit of Nesta’s stomach, the realization that she’s said something wrong. She can’t fix it until she knows where she fucked up, though.

“Is that what you think of me?” Cassian finally says lowly. His usually expressive mouth is drawn tight and narrow.

“Um… What would you rather I think of you?”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “Seriously, Nesta?”

Nesta’s back stiffens, refusing to cower. “I only described what I’ve observed in the past.”

“And what you observed was a desperate puppy?” His voice is cold in a way she’s never heard before.

Okay, she’s starting to see how that might be offensive. She forges onward, “Tell me what you think about yourself in the presence of your family, then.” It’s a private victory that she says family instead of clown circus. But she’s not trying to turn this into a fight.

Cassian is silent, but his stare continues to rage at her.

“Tell me,” Nesta repeats.

His hands curl into fists on the rug. “I think I’m empathetic, easy to talk to, and easier to be around. Is it a problem if I’m likable?” Unlike you are the unsaid words.

Nesta inspects the space between them like it’s a chessboard. “And what part of yourself are you giving up to be so likable, Cassian?” she says quietly.

“Nothing.”

Nesta disagrees, if only because she’s been watching him out of the corner of her eye for years. “I think you base your personality off of those you love, and you lose a little bit of your true self every time you put others’ needs before your own.”

She shuts her mouth, not having expected such honesty to come out of it. Cassian is taken aback, too, she can tell.

“And I guess it’s natural that you’d see all of that as a bad thing, considering your history of being closed off and self-serving to a fault,” he fires back with the flatness Nesta utilizes so often.

One for one. Fair enough. “We’re both right then,” Nesta says. “You work for your best friend because you have no ambition beyond serving your family, and I have no such family because I can’t bring myself to care about those things. Are we even now?”

Cassian furrows his brows, those defensive walls melting away as he realizes she’s completely serious. “What? No, Nes—” He shakes his head. “Okay, so maybe you’re right about me. Maybe I agree with you a little bit, but… If we see flaws in each other, then we should be working to overcome them instead of weaponizing them.”

Now Nesta’s the one shaking her head, quickly lifting a hand to stop him. “Relax there, sweetheart. I have no expectations from you or myself to go on some self-improvement journey now that we’re together. Talking about my feelings with a professional every week is hard enough.” Yes, agreeing to go to Feyre’s Christmas party is improvement. Slow, barely there improvement, but enough to wear her out for the rest of the month. For Nesta to fully let people into her life, to treat them as lovingly as she treats Cassian— that’s a long way away. She can’t envision it, doesn’t even know if she wants it.

Cassian must understand some of what she’s thinking, because he nods and backs off. He gets back up and returns to stringing lights, tossing a handful of tinsel at Nesta as if to say Get back to work.

She stands and obeys, thinking their not-argument is officially over when Cassian says, “You’re wrong about one thing.”

She looks up from where she threads tinsel through fir leaves. He doesn’t take his eyes off his work as he says, “You do have a family. And deep, deep down, you care about them as much as I care about mine.”

***

Nesta catches Emerie’s eye as the dark-haired beauty walks into the pub. Raising a hand and waving, she gestures Emerie over to the booth she’s sitting in.

“Look what I found,” Nesta says with a hint of pride, pointing to the redhead sitting beside her. “A third girl for girl’s night!”

“I was kidnapped,” Gwyn speaks up. “Jumped on the way to my car.” She’s out of her usual hoodie and in a tight-fitting blouse, looking stunning even while seeming out of place in the dim bar.

“She came here consensually,” Nesta retorts. “Emerie, this is Gwyn. We met at therapy.”

Gwyn offers Emerie an awkward smile.

Emerie slides into the booth across from them with raised brows. She looks between Nesta and the new girl and back again. “You invited her here? All by yourself?” she asks.

Nesta nods firmly.

Emerie breaks into a wide grin and reaches over the table to grab Nesta’s hand. “I’m so proud of you!” If Emerie were anyone else, she’d be squealing in excitement, but Emerie does not squeal.

Nesta waves off her friend’s praise, though a part of her wants to beam at it, too.

Gwyn glances between the two of them with slight amusement. “I mean, it’s not that impressive,” she says. “She came on a bit too strong, probably a five out of ten on the asking-someone-out scale.”

“‘A bit too strong’ is all you’re gonna get with Nesta,” Emerie says, lifting her hand to order drinks. “She’s all-or-nothing, and most people would pray she doesn’t give them her nothing.”

Nesta doesn’t know if that’s a compliment, but she supposes there are worse things that could be said about her.

“So, Gwyn, what do you do?” Emerie leans forward. “All our friends are law students and it’s starting to get boring.”

Gwyn goes off about her librarian job as Nesta orders their drinks, and Emerie rests her chin in her hand and listens eagerly. Christmas music plays softly in the background and snow flurries gently outside. Nesta thinks she can’t be doing that bad in life, if she’s managed to carve out this little slice of happiness for herself.

***

a/n: i promise shit actually happens next chapter! we're getting christmas with nessian and the ic in the same room for the first time

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian fic

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fefipranon · 3 years

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Rivamika Fic Preview

Topic: Mikasa, a hardcore feminist, kidnapped by Levi, the leader of one of the most powerful gangs and who is the book definition of a dick.

Mikasa Point of View (P.O.V.)

Here I am, another restless night. Turning on my bed like a hamburger patty being flipped on a grill, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep. I can hear birds chirping outside so it's probably already morning but my thick light-blocking curtains make my room look as dark as night. Whoever invented those, has a special place in my lazy heart.

I started hearing shuffling sounds outside the door of my room. These two have no sense of self-preservation, I thought. My two roommates, Eren and Armin, have been living with me for a year now. I met them ten years ago, starting my teenage years, a tragic event brought us together. Since 'that event', Eren's parents took me in as their own and he introduced me to Armin, his best friend since childhood.

We are inseparable, even now as adults. Even though Armin works as an accountant for a law firm, I work as a Computer Engineer for the CIA, and Eren works as a veterinarian, when we are together, we still act like silly kids. I love them like siblings love each other, which means that we also fight like siblings, and right now they are breaking a golden rule.

You see, I love them. I would give my life without a second thought for them, but, there is something I love more: my bed. I can be a charming and decent person, AFTER my morning coffee, and AFTER I wake up on my own. If anyone dares to wake me up from my precious sleep, there will be hell to pay. I am not a morning person, who is it really? Those who said they are, are not to be trusted, they are probably psychopaths and serial killers. I also don't trust people that don't like cheese, how could you not like cheese?! They are probably part of those reptilian people that conspiracy theories warn you about from alien abductions and shit.

I heard Armin's voice, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

I walked to the door to better listen to their conversation.

"She promised to join us for our traditional 'Sunday pancakes' today since she has failed to wake up early for the last four Sundays in a row! It's her fault!", Eren said.

"You know she is not a morning person! She will kill both of us!", Armin said.

I saw the bolt of the door shaking. Eren was clearly picking the lock from my room. He really has a death wish. I stared around my room looking for ideas on how to greet him, and my eyes landed on my hamper which was almost full of my dirty clothes. I walked to it and grabbed two dirty socks and rolled them together in a ball.

"You can still run away and save yourself.", Eren said.

"I will just stay out of her room, and watch how she kills you while eating popcorn then."

No Armin, you are going to get it too since you are not stopping him, I thought. Then, I heard the beep sound from the microwave. He really made popcorn, unbelievable. I rested my back against the wall next to my door, waiting for their intrusion.

"Do you even know how to pick a lock?", Armin asked.

"I've seen it in movies, they open everything with bobby pins on those spy movies so, how hard can it be?", Eren said.

I pinched the bridge of my nose thinking, he can't be serious. But knowing the bastard, he probably was, and I didn't have the patience to wait for him to finally open my door. So I opened it myself.

He looked at me in shock and said, "Mika-"

But I cut him short by shoving to his open mouth the ball of dirty socks. Armin was on the way to the microwave and yelped at the sight of Eren spitting the dirty socks from his mouth and coughing. I gave him a death stare and yelled:

"You are next!"

"Fuck no!", He yelled as he ran to his room with me running behind him.

He got into his room and closed the door before I could get to him.

With a sing-song voice, I said, "Oh, Armiiin, open the door now and I might forgive youuu."

"Bullshit! I will only open the door after you have your morning coffee!"

Suddenly, the smell of popcorn hit my nose making me smile. Armin never got to get his popcorn out of the microwave. He and I have this unhealthy addiction to popcorn for years now. I mean, who doesn't like popcorn? Those are other types of people I don't trust.

I walked to the microwave and took the popcorn out. I grabbed a fan and pointed it directly to the door of his room. I opened the bag and started eating in front of the fan. He will smell it eventually.

"That's a low blow, stinky feet!", Eren said.

"Is that!? Are you eating MY popcorn!!?", Armin shouted.

"Mmm delicious and extra buttery. Thanks for making popcorn for ME, you are so considerate. You shouldn't have-", I was cut short by Armin slamming his door open and running towards me.

I started running away but he tackled me, making me drop the bag causing the popcorn to fly out, "Give me back my popcorn you thief!", he shouted.

"Did you stuck your socks inside somebody's ass?! This smell is not human!", Eren shouted.

Ignoring Eren, I shouted to Armin, "No! I'll take it as a peace offering apology from you two for waking me up!", while we both struggled to get the bag making a mess of popcorn all around the apartment in the process.

Armin managed to run away while Eren grabbed me and tried to get the dirty socks into my mouth when someone knocked at our door.

We all froze, Armin stared at both of us and asked, "Are any of you expecting someone?"

We both shook our heads in response. I ran to my room to get my gun, Eren did the same while Armin watched the door and grabbed the gun we stored in the kitchen for emergencies.

I immediately started thinking of all the possible threats that could be behind our front door. This is all Eren's fault, I thought.

You see... I was deemed a 'child prodigy' at a young age. I started college at the age of 12, my studies were disrupted for a couple of years when 'that event' happened. Later I resumed my studies and by the age of 18, I already had a bachelor's degree in computer engineering. I joined a couple of hacktivist groups and helped them with the usual stuff: DDoS attacks to government websites, machine learning algorithms to find patterns in social media of government bot accounts, you know, the usual stuff.

One day Eren challenged me to hack into the CIA so I started with a social media scan looking for stupid people that post their work information, I just needed someone with access to the building. In summary, after finding a few victims I did a MITM attack on their phones and computers. From there I got access to the network, installed a backdoor, and had access to everything. I did a similar process to gain access to other intelligence agencies' networks from different countries.

Since we were broke at the time, I did ransomware of the data but instead of money, I asked for a job and immunity for the crime. I also sent them part of a list of vulnerabilities in their system and told them that if they wanted the full list they had to comply with my demands. Since I was already deep in trouble I decided to also give them evidence of the access I gained to other countries' intelligence networks. Not even an hour passed by, and they were already begging me to take the job.

Thinking of who could be behind my front door right now, I thought about the time I got access to the Russian 'Federal Security Service' agency and replaced their data with, well, some 'not-so-innocent' pictures. I think Putin hates me. There is also what I did to the North Korean Reconnaissance General Bureau agency... I think Fluffy Kim hates me too.

None of it would've happened if Eren didn't challenge me in the first place! It's completely his fault!

I got out of my train of thought when we were back at the door and Eren asked us, "Ready?"

We nodded in response, and Eren slowly opened the door.

He quickly pointed the gun at the unexpected visitor who was... An innocent girl scout who was trying to sell cookies.

The kid yelped scared, but Eren quickly hid the gun and said, "Oh, we don't want cookies."

"I want cookies!", I protested and pushed Eren away from the door.

"Order for me too!", Armin said.

Author P.O.V.

After getting their girl scouts cookies, Eren started making pancakes while Armin and Mikasa sat in seat stools behind the small kitchen island facing him. They had popcorn on their messy hair, and on their clothes. "You two better clean the mess you made!", Eren shouted.

"It was Armin's fault!", Mikasa shouted while Armin gave her a death stare.

Eren started to stick his tongue out while making disgusted faces.

"What's the problem Eren? Are you having a stroke?", Mikasa said teasingly.

"For fucks sake Mikasa! I have washed my mouth around five times already and I can still smell your stinky socks! Those things are a hazard!", Eren said while walking away to the bathroom to wash his mouth again.

"The pancakes are going to burn!", Mikasa shouted.

"You take care of them, stinky feet! I am on my way to drink some bleach!", Eren shouted back.

Mikasa rolled her eyes and walked to the stove while Armin stood up to turn on the television. While flipping the pancakes Mikasa took a look at her phone notifications and messages. She started looking through the messages from her girlfriend's group chat:

Sasha: OMG! I just saw the cutest guy ever!

Annie: Did you banged it already? 👉👌🍆

Sasha: I wish! I don't even know how to talk to him yet!

Christa: Where did you saw him?

Sasha: He works at a new bookstore that opened near my apartment.

Christa: Did you tried to talk to him somehow? Or just stared at him like a mentally unstable stalker?

Sasha: Well, I asked for book recommendations, he started asking me about what I liked so he could give me a more accurate one but the dick of his boss cut him off telling him to go back to the cash register.

Annie: Maybe we should meet up for lunch to come up with a plan.

Ymir: I just saw that I have new messages. I tried to read them all but my lazy ass just read 'cute guy' and 'bang it already' and skipped to the end. I am up for lunch and the 'banging plan'. Speaking of people in need of banging, @Mikasa wake your ass and join us!

Annie: 😂😂

Mikasa rolled her eyes and replied:

Mikasa: I am awake, count me in for lunch, and the 'banging plan'.

Christa: Girls, call the police, that is not Mikasa, that's an impostor! There is no way that woman is awake this early!

Mikasa sighed and typed,

Mikasa: Eren woke me up, putting his life on the line.

Suddenly Eren's phone made the sound of a new message notification. Mikasa rolled her eyes and thought, here we go.

Eren grabbed his phone, unlocked it, stared at his messages, and started laughing. "Sasha just asked me if you are okay because you are awake. She wants to know if it's really you before calling the police. She also wants to know if I am still alive."

"Hey guys check this out.", Armin said while turning up the volume of the TV.

The news was on. Mikasa served the pancakes on the plates. She took two of the plates and gave one to Armin while sitting next to him. Eren grabbed his plate and sat next to Mikasa. The three of them were seated on the sofa in front of the TV watching the news.

Breaking News:

'We are reporting live outside of Mitra's bank. Just moments ago, criminals robbed the bank and took three hostages with them. The police are tracking their whereabouts at the moment, avoid the area. The perpetrators' identity has been confirmed as the gang that calls themselves "The Scorpions". They are commonly identified with a Scorpion tattoo on their necks, reach out to the police if you see anyone suspicious.'

"These guys again, they piss me off.", Mikasa said.

"They are the same ones that robbed one of the stores of the mall right?", Armin asked.

"Yes, those assholes take hostages with them but they end up always killing them.", Eren said.

"That's the gang that posts the videos about they killing the hostages like is some sort of sick hunting game?", Armin asked.

"Yes, they take the victim to a secluded wood area and tell the victim to run, after a minute or so they run after the victim to kill it, recording the whole thing.", Eren said.

"That's sick.", Mikasa said.

"That's why they are one of the most feared and powerful gangs around.", Eren said.

"It doesn't make sense, the tattoo I mean, who would be so stupid to get a tattoo that clearly dictates that you are a criminal? Why have the police not caught them yet if they have a fucking mark on their necks screaming I'm the killer?", Mikasa said.

Suddenly Eren's phone made the notification sound again. "Oi, Mikasa, Dad wants to meet with us today for dinner, he is in the area."

"Tell him to pick us up then.", Mikasa replied.

-----

Mikasa P.O.V.

I arrived at the restaurant where the girls planned to meet for lunch. As I was walking from the parking area to the restaurant I felt the unease sensation that someone was following me. I've been feeling this for two weeks now. Even though I have gained many enemies by my hacking 'activities', and I joke about Putin or someone else knocking on my door, the reality is that it's highly unlikely that they know my identity. I didn't use my network, on top of it I used nested VPNs mixed with virtual machines with an eastern VPN added on top. Even though the probability of them knowing my identity is almost zero, my job provided me with an apartment in the most secured area in town plus extra police patrols around the building. But, of course, you can never be too cautious, so I always assumed the worst.

I took my phone out and texted my boss: "Activating precaution protocol."

Almost instantly he replied: "I will be on the lookout."

My boss, Pixis, has been very overprotective of me since I started working for the CIA. Since the first day that I arrived at the office and introduced myself, he personally asked to work with me. He was impressed by the stunt I pulled and introduced me to everyone on his team like I was some sort of Messiah sent by Thor itself from the land of Narnia. But not everyone reacted the same way he did when he saw me. It seemed like I wasn't what they were expecting to see since I do not fulfill the stereotype of a programmer. I am not a gamer, I am a ballerina, and what seems to be the worst of all to them is that I am a woman.

The biggest fear of a male chauvinist pig is a woman with confidence having success on a field dominated by men. When will they understand that women can do everything men do while even wearing high heels?

Ever since college, I've heard crap like:

"She probably slept her way in."

"Too pretty to be a programmer."

"A woman in my team? She will probably end up making us do all her work."

"She will probably need to be trained in the most basic crap. She doesn't look like she even knows how to do basic programming."

It's exhausting being a woman, why do we have to put double the effort to at least be noticed or recognized? When will they stop calling us 'emotional' or 'bossy', and start calling us instead 'passionate' and 'leaders'? We intimidate them because they can't control us and they know we have the potential to kick their asses.

I was snapped out of my mental rant when I received another text message from my boss: "Location received. As always, call me if you need to talk."

Good, from now on, until I turn it off, my boss will have a constant live feed of my location using my phone's GPS. Also, in case of emergency, I only have to press twice my phone's power button and in a matter of minutes the police, FBI, and the SWAT team will arrive at my location ready to get rid of any threat.

I can relax now, I thought as I opened the door of the restaurant and met my friends.

"Mikasa! We are here!", Sasha shouted while shaking an arm up to get my attention.

I sat at the table and grabbed the menu, the waiter was already taking the orders so I ordered the first thing I saw that was to my liking. Then I took out from my purse a box of girl scout cookies that I bought for Sasha and gave it to her.

She yelped excitedly and said, "This is why I love you!" while hugging the box.

"So, we've been booked for three schools next week.", Christa said.

Christa was referring to a feminist organization we all created that focuses on motivating girls to pursue a college degree, especially in fields dominated by men.

"I think that it's the most we've had in a week so far!", I said.

"Yes, people are helping by sharing our social media accounts. I have messages of people who want to join us.", Ymir said.

"We should hold a meeting for newcomers, we are going to need more people eventually anyways.", I said, and Ymir nodded.

"So Sasha, what do you have in mind so far to talk to your cute guy?", Annie asked.

"I have no idea, someone needs to distract the manager of the library so he doesn't interrupt us again.", Sasha said.

"Who volunteers as a tribute?", Ymir asked.

"Is the manager at least cute?", Annie asked.

"He was hot but had this unapproachable vibe, and on top of that, a jerk.", Sasha said.

"In that case, I offer Mikasa as a tribute.", Annie said.

"What!? Why me?!", I shouted.

"Because you never get intimidated or scared, and you always speak your mind. That personality is the greatest weakness of self-absorbed jerks.", Annie said.

I stared at her in disbelief while Sasha yelped excited looking at her cellphone.

"Girls! The package arrived! Just received the amazon notification.", Sasha said.

All of them gave me a devilish smile, confusing me, I asked, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Mikasa, this is an intervention.", Christa said with a serious tone.

"We've noticed that you've been grumpier than usual. We also know that you haven't, well, how do I put this?", Ymir said.

"You haven't had a good fuck in a while!", Annie shouted.

I wanted the earth to swallow me whole right there. Annie said that a little too loud for my liking.

"Where are you going with this?", I asked.

"Well, we bought you a little something to help you deal with, you know, the grumpiness. It just arrived at your door.", Sasha said.

"Are you crazy! You know I live with Eren and Armin!", I said.

"Come on is just a package in your name, they are not going to open it.", Annie said.

"You definitely don't know Eren.", I said in disbelief.

When we finished eating I rushed to my car and drove as fast as I could to my apartment. I ran to the elevator and then ran to my apartment's door. The package wasn't there. I panicked and opened the door and saw Eren about to open it. I ran and tackled him making us both fall to the floor.

"What the fuck Mikasa!", He shouted.

"Why were you trying to open MY package?!", I shouted back.

"Because it could be something dangerous sent from one of your enemies, like Fluffy Kim for example.", Eren said.

"Why would Fluffy Kim send me something life-threatening via AMAZON!?"

"I don't know! Amazon sells some weird shit and they ship from all around the world, I am pretty sure North Korea is included."

I gave him a death stare, snatched the package, and went to my room closing the door behind me.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. I opened the package and found the box of a pink glow-in-the-dark vibrator. I grabbed my phone and wrote in the group chat:

Mikasa: Got the 'package'.

I put the phone down and opened the box. The thing brought batteries and had a little plastic paper that said, "pull here". I think is to protect the device from direct contact with the batteries, I thought.

I pulled the damned paper and the thing started having an epileptic attack. That thing had a demon inside and I didn't know how to do a fucking exorcism! Scared of it, I screamed and dropped it to the floor.

Apparently, Eren heard my scream because he shouted, "I knew it! I am not letting you kill her Fluffy Kim!" while slamming open the door of my room.

I panicked and jumped on top of the frantic thing that looked like it was break dancing on the floor, to hide it.

"What happened?!", Eren asked me.

"Nothing! Get out!", I shouted, trying to stop the damned thing from moving. It felt like I was riding one of those mechanic bulls.

"You screamed! Something happened!!", Eren shouted worriedly.

"What's all the fuss about?", Armin appeared.

"Fluffy Kim sent something dangerous from Amazon to Mikasa!", Eren shouted.

"Fluffy Kim didn't send me shit! Get out!", I said giving a pleading look to Armin.

He got my message and pulled Eren by the back of his shirt, out of my room, and closed the door. I took a deep breath and found the button to turn that demonic thing off. I checked my phone again and read the messages:

Sasha: Yay! You have to name it!

Annie: She's right! Put a name on it!

Mikasa: The thing tried to kill me! I literally just pulled out a piece of paper from it and the thing started to have a panic attack!

Annie: 😂😂

Christa: You can control the intensity, check the instructions! But first, name it!

Ymir: It has to be a sexy name.

I rolled my eyes knowing that they won't drop the subject until I give the thing a name.

Mikasa: Any suggestions?

Sasha: Just think of something that turns you on. 🔥🔥

Something that turns me on, something sexy, I thought as my mind went blank. I started looking around my room. I had a stack of letters and spam stacked on top of my nightstand. I sighed and went through it, I stopped at a promotional flyer for men's underwear. It had a couple of men modeling the underwear. This could work, I thought.

Mikasa: I found a flyer of men's underwear, the models are kind of hot.

Annie: You are messing with us right? 🤦

Sasha: Hold on, she might be onto something. What's the name of the brand?

Mikasa: Levi's, I like it, I will call it Levi.

Christa: 🥳🥳 Now, it's time to let Levi give you a good time!! 🥳

Mikasa: 🤦

I put my phone down and stared at, well, the Levi thing. I still have a couple of hours until dinner, how do I start? Porn? I thought making my mind go into another rant.

Another industry dominated by men, made for men: the porn industry. They try to sell a ridiculous idea of what 'good' sex is supposed to be. They show a man sticking his penis in a woman's vagina with little to no foreplay time. After that, they start going ridiculously fast, like the world is about to end, and start changing the poor woman to different positions like she is some kind of rag doll. They do all of this while ignoring the most important thing: the clitoris. If the poor thing could talk it would scream something around the lines of:

"I'm fucking bored dude!"

"She is faking it!"

"Feeling nothing bro!"

"If I would describe this whole experience with you, I would use the forever-alone meme!"

I locked the door and grabbed the thing, "Let's see, please don't kill me."

-----2 hours later-----

Mikasa: Levi, oooooh Leviiiii!!!!

Annie: 😂😂

Sasha: 🥳🥳🍆🍆🥳🥳

Christa: 😎🔥

Ymir: 💥💦

--------

Author P.O.V.

"Mikasa, are you ready? Dad is already here!", Eren shouted.

"Yes!", Mikasa said, opening the door of her room ready to go.

"Well, someone is in a good mood.", Eren said while raising a brow.

Ignoring his comment Mikasa said, "Let's go, we don't want to make Grisha wait."

"You are right, Dad has texted me like 5 times already since he arrived.", Eren answered.

They took the elevator down and walked by the building lobby. Eren looked at the security guard and said, "That's a new guard right?"

"Yes, he arrived around two weeks ago.", Mikasa responded.

They went out of the building where Grisha, Eren's dad, was waiting for them inside his car.

"We have to make a quick stop at the bank first.", Grisha said.

Mikasa groaned in protest and said, "You know that nowadays you can do mostly all bank stuff through the internet right? I can teach you."

"I need to speak with a manager, is an account that locked me out and they told me to go to the bank directly. It will be quick.", Grisha explained.

"Why do old people avoid using technology?", Mikasa whispered to Eren.

"I heard that!", Grisha said.

They arrived at the bank and Grisha took a piece of paper and started to fill it out with his account information. He told Mikasa and Eren to start making the line for him. He finished filling up his account information and walked to the spot they were in the line.

"I'm hungry, they look like the Zootopia sloths.", Eren said looking at the bank employees.

Suddenly, a loud sound was heard that shook the whole building. Grisha jumped on top of Mikasa and Eren throwing them to the floor. Smoke was coming from everywhere. A huge truck had collided with the bank's main entrance, making a hole. In an instant, a bunch of men with guns, wearing hoodies, and a clown mask entered the building.

"Hands up! And sit on the floor now!", one of them commanded.

Mikasa P.O.V.

Grisha sat on the floor hugging me, and Eren sat in front of me protectively. A couple of the men grabbed an employee and went through a door. After a minute they started going out with black bags. I remembered that I still had my GPS location shared with my boss since lunch. I grabbed my phone and double-clicked the power button, it was programmed to send a high-priority emergency signal to different agencies. I hid my cellphone, pinching it with the inside border of my jeans and pulling my shirt over it. At that moment, one of the men was walking in front of all of us. He was staring at each one of us on the floor.

Eren was covering me with his body when the man said, "You, move!", to him.

Trying to still cover me Eren asked, "Where?"

The man moved closer to him and said, "To the side, now!", and pointed the gun at his head.

Eren hesitated for a moment but then he moved. I was looking to the floor avoiding the man's gaze, hoping that it had the same effect as when a teacher asks a question in a classroom and you avoid making eye contact in hope that he doesn't pick you to answer.

I saw him with the corner of my eye as he lowered the gun and tilted his head. It seemed as he was confused for a moment.

Grisha tightened his hold on me and I saw the man pointing his gun again.

"You!", he said.

I felt a cold metal being pressed against my forehead. When I lifted my gaze I was staring down the barrel of a Walter Q5 Match Semi-auto pistol, held by a man who had... a scorpion tattoo on his neck and grey eyes.

"You are coming with me."

-----------

Want to know what happens next? Check the rest of the story here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27557422/chapters/67401547

or in Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/980985373-saved-by-deception-encounter

#rivamika #levimika #fanfic

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insufferablelust · 4 years

Text

Pretty Little Thing, (I)

Hi! i’m back to bring new mini series i’ve been working on during my hospital stay! i hope you wnjoy this! and give me your feedbacks! thank you.

Warnings : this series will be filled with Adult content, upcoming smut, murder, psychotic behaviors, dark kinks, traumatic events, manipulation, gaslighting, and isolation. It started out as Professor!Spencer x Reader, but it’ll progress to Spencer Reid x Unsub!Reader. WITH PLOT TWIST heheh, enjoy.

MASTERLIST.

——————

Y/A/N was never the one to rush into classes, she always took her time and were never late. She’s the epitome of perfect straight A’s student, many teacher’s pet. And to say that she has a lot of people who would want to see her struggle was an understatement, one of those people would be Spencer Reid.

Weird to imagine a professor who would want to see his student fail, yet something about her irked Spencer beyond belief. Maybe it’s the natural tension between them ever since she walked into criminal psychology, most of his students were either had a slight interest on the subject or just on him— but Y/A/N she seemed to have an interest on both. The moment she stepped into his class, he was intrigued by her, not just her outstanding beauty but also the way she responds, her body language and her overall demeanor.

Spencer was aware that she was your typical good girl, but something about the glint in her eyes just doesn’t settle well with the good girl esque that she was portraying. There was something much darker about her, that much he knew— being a profiler and an iq of 187 would tell him that, but this time it was his guts talking to him. She raised her hand almost every time he asked questions to his class, even when he thought it was a rhetorical question. She managed to frustrate him in ways he gets so fed up that he needed to do some research on who she was. Truly.

And what he had found might as well killed him on sight, digging through files of her faces, confusion rake over his brain like storms. Initially, he was going to do some background check, maybe she turned out to be a child prodigy just like him. But what he found shattered his every thought, There she was, with different hair styles and colors, different contact lenses, styles, her various names scattered through tons of criminal data bases.

Spencer gulped as he saw her amongst the women affiliated with Cat Adams, the woman who put him in jail, the woman who irked him to no end just like Y/A/N now. His eyes kept on glazing over the files on Garcia’s laptop, tying her to more evidence that she was in fact not the girl everyone thought she was— god how old even is she? She’s good at hiding, and he knows it.

“Well genius, have you finished stalking that fellow super genius student of yours?” Garcia popped her head back inside her bat-cave as she carried two mugs, one over sugared coffee and one tea for her. As she sat down, she finally realized that Reid was pale— as in ‘horrified’ looking pale.

“Reid, hey what did you—“ Penelope left her jaw open when she finally saw the two matching photos from the face recognition program of a uni student and next to it was a wanted assassin named,

“Y/N Y/l/N...” Spencer beat Garcia on saying her name, the only thing in his mind was ‘Y/N, Y/N, Y/N’ his head spinning as he tried to rake through his brain, trying to find a reason why he didn’t recognized a wanted assassin- Cat’s close relations in his class. He finally looked up to a seemingly horrified Garcia and muttered a pained, “We have to tell the team.”

—————

“The Unsub is 24 years old Y/N Y/l/N, She has been under the radar since Catherine Adams’s arrest back in 2015, we believed that she is one of the Hit woman working alone with Cat at the time of her arrest even going as far as recent.” Prentiss placed her hand inside her pants pocket as she looked at Tara to continue the profile which being given to FBI agents as well as International crime task force. Her eyes then flickered to Spencer, which seemed to be occupied by the face recognition photos still.

“She’s a very well trained assassin, she was taught to manipulate, to hide in plain sight, and most likely is multilingual.” Tara continued,

“She’s a dangerous serial killer, her targets has always been men with higher status, She’s narcissistic, most likely misandristic, and psychopathic.”

“We believed that she hasn’t been killing in over 2 years, but now started again because her partner was executed few months ago.” JJ took a deep breath as she continued after Alvez,

“Cat Adam’s execution is her stressor, she knows we’ll find her, that’s why she risked on changing her identity to Y/A/N, a student of SSA Spencer Reid. We have every reason to believe that he’s her next target which makes her our primary target, and now that she have our attention, let’s get her before she continue her plans.” Prentiss finished, nodding off to the field agents, before turning back up to the meeting room where Reid was.

“Reid you know that—“

“How can i not recognized her? we profiled her years ago, she was in one of Cat’s list, and how did i missed it?” Spencer stresses, hands gripping the table tightly and breathing heavily.

“Listen to me, you found her, you knew something was wrong and you followed your guts, and we will get her Reid.”

—————

Y/N delicately put on the white knee high socks before slipping into her converse and slip her pocket knife onto the small strap on her thigh— smiling at herself as she applied the pink lipgloss then grabbed her bag and head out to campus. She looked over her watch excitedly as she realized who’s class she’s going to spend the first period at.

She parked her car on the usual spot as she preparing to get out, but something caught her eyes just before she opened her car door,

FBI Agents, everywhere. Her eyes widened as she hurriedly presses the reverse pedal and returned to the way where she first came, hoping none of those agents could realized that was her car.

————

I let out a frustrated scream as i went as far as the gas pedal would allow me to in this godforsaken traffic, my mind race back to the campus that was swarmed with Agents, to other people that might blend in like college kids— but not to me, the earpiece their glasses, and years of hiding from them has taught me well.

“Fucking Adams!” I punched the steering wheel when the red clouded my vision, my knuckles all bruised and my hair out of place. This is not how its supposed to go, i was supposed to be Y/A/N not the Y/N who cat claimed to be an assassin. She could still control my life even from underneath her grave, i chuckled as i sped up down the highway to the one place i could release all of my anger at.

As soon as i reached Cat and I’s old place, i can’t help but to tear the whole place down, smashing every piece of furniture i could lay my eyes and hands on, screaming on top of my lungs and let myself be numb to the pain of the sharp glass nick and slice through my skin.

After i’m sure there’s nothing left to break, i sat on my knees— feeling the hardwood floors dig through my skin and cried as loud as i can. “You fucking bitch, stop destroying my fucking life!”

“Y/N Y/l/N put your hands on the air and hand us your weapon!”

——————

Taglist is open! just message me or leave me an ask!

upcoming fics : the artist and his muse (vii), and few requests that i’m working on.

Thank you for your patience for the past few days, hopefully things will get better soon and i can be more productive!❤️

#criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagines #spencer reid angst #dom!spencer #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #unsub!reader #professor!spencer

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