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a11eya · 19 days

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TITLE: do you still think about me?

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.

You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.

You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.

(It's not fine.)

TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut

STATUS: Ongoing; 1 of ?

NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist

The ryokan’s lobby is bustling, voices a soft buzz echoing through the space. Some guests are like you, waiting for check-in, and other guests are partaking in the complimentary drinks and snack bar. It all calls to mind vacations you went on with your family, growing up.

Sighing, you sink into an armchair, letting the fatigue from a long trip on a train and subsequent car ride sink in, shed off.

“Here,” Rie says, setting a cup of tea and a cookie on the table in front of you. She sits in the chair across from you. “You’re grumpy because you haven’t had any sugar today. Eat these. There’s more up front, at the snack bar.”

“Thanks mom,” you say, and she leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You wince.

“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can get away with your sass. Especially while we’re on vacation,” she tells you, then lifts her own cup of tea to her lips. You scrunch your face up at her.

Her eyes flick past you, and she blinks rapidly. You recognize that expression—up to no good.

“Oh hey,” she says, affecting a casual tone. “Look who just walked in.”

Rie waits for you to look, but you’re not so easily led around. You narrow your eyes at her. She raises a brow at you. A moment passes.

Your curiosity’s too strong. You turn and regret it.

It’s Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki. What the hell is he doing here?

You immediately swing back around, scowling deeply. You can feel your ears getting warm.

She gives you a Cheshire grin, finger gunning you. “It’s your first love.”

“Rie, I will leave.”

She scoffs. “Yeah, right. And miss out on the massages we booked? The onsen? I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” you say darkly.

She snickers, tilts her head at you. “You don’t want to say hi?”

“Not really, no,” you say. “And if you call him over, I’ll kill you. Hanta will be sad, but he’ll get over it.”

Rie laughs. “I don’t know about that. He is dating me, after all.”

“I’ve known him longer. He’ll forgive me.”

The two of you switch over your attention to an approaching receptionist.

“Thank you so much for waiting,” he says. “Your room is ready now. Please follow our staff. We’ll take care of your bags.”

You let them take your luggage, too distracted by staying out of Bakugou’s line of sight to pay attention to the small talk the receptionist’s making. Thankfully Rie’s chatting cheerfully with him, leaving you to your task.

As you enter a hallway leading off the lobby area, you catch a last glimpse of Bakugou. He’s speaking to a staff member at the front desk area, presumably checking in. He’s alone. You wonder if anyone will be joining him, or if he’s here by himself.

Shaking your head, you push away those thoughts. It’s none of your business. This ryokan’s rather large, and it’s popular with tourists and locals alike. You doubt you’ll see him again during your stay.

You stare doubtfully at the email Sero forwarded you, then look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed.

“Hanta, this is a luxury onsen ryokan. And you want me to go with Rie? Why aren’t you going?”

Sero claps his hands together in front of his face. “Please? The agency denied my time off request because we’re so busy. You gotta know how busy we are, even holed up in your office.”

You frown at him. “The agency denied you? That’s crazy. You haven’t taken time off the whole year.”

“I know, right? Anyway, Rie doesn’t want to go alone, and the reservation at this place is only valid for so long. Cancelling’s not an option.”

You frown. “If they denied you, they’ll probably deny me too, Hanta.”

“Noooo, it doesn’t hurt to put in the request! Plus, you haven’t gone on vacation in years. Treat yourself! This can be my months-in-advance birthday gift to you.”

You try one last time. “Are you sure Rie even wants to go with me? I know you want this to be a surprise, but maybe you should ask her if there’s anyone else she’d want to go on a trip with.”

Sero gives you a look, as if you’d just said something unbelievably stupid. “I’m not even going to respond to that.”

You snort, smiling. “Alright, alright. Thanks, Hanta. I’ll take all the pictures of Rie and send them to you if the agency does grant me the time off.”

Sero slings an arm around your shoulders. “Thanks, bud.”

“I miss Hanta,” Rie says, collapsing on her back onto the bed.

You push both of your bags to the side, to be unpacked later. The entire far wall of your room’s lounge area is glass, with a door leading out to the outdoor area and open-air bath, and you give in to your urge to step outside onto the wood, deck-like floor.

The bath rises from the floor to your right, rectangular, spacious. The staff member told the both of you it’s fed from the onsen, and the steam it’s giving off dissipates into the cool spring air. The bath and deck are built to overlook a large pond with koi swimming in it, giving the impression that where the deck ends the water begins. The far side of the pond is lined with trees and shrubbery. Wooden partitions on either side of this area enclose the space, giving it a sense of privacy.

It’s absolutely gorgeous. And it’s so quiet here. Aside from the ambient water sounds from the onsen on the property, birdsong from the nearby forested area, there’s little to interrupt this emerging feeling of serenity.

“You saw him literally before we left,” you say. “Rie, come out here and look at this view. I call dibs on using the bath first.”

“You could be more sympathetic. We haven’t been able to see each other much this month,” she grumbles, but she comes out to join you anyway.

“Okay, you can use the bath first,” you tell her.

She grins at you, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Thanks, friend.”

“The things I do.” You don’t really mind. You have the entire long weekend to enjoy this place. The peace and quiet are already doing wonders for the tension in your shoulders.

A twinge of guilt passes you in a wave. After the staff member who’d escorted you to your room had given you both a short tour of the space, it really hit you how expensive this all was.

“Rie, you really should’ve come here with Hanta,” you tell her, frowning. “He should’ve pushed for the time off or adjusted the reservation. This is way too nice of an experience to pass up.”

Rie snorts.

“Don’t stress,” she says. “You think he didn’t try all that? It was either keep the reservation with someone else or lose out on a lot of money. I wanted you to come, so don’t overthink, silly.”

You lean your arm against hers. “Thanks, Rie. I’ll get you and Hanta something nice for your birthdays.”

She hums, and the two of you lapse into silence, appreciating the birdsong, the late afternoon sun gilding the pond, the surrounding trees in warmth.

“So, what’s up with you and Bakugou?” Rie asks. “I thought you worked out all those feelings for him back in high school.”

And there goes all that peace. You groan, turning and heading back inside, grabbing your bag and starting to unpack your clothes. Rie follows you, sprawling out onto your bed this time to be as annoying as possible.

“I did,” you say, because not answering would result in incessant pestering. Better to nip this conversation in the bud so it doesn’t come back up again while you’re on this trip. You tell her, “We’re cool. You know that. You go to the same get-togethers.”

Since graduating from UA, you’d kept in touch with Sero, who you’d met because he’d been the hero you’d been assigned to for the management course’s third year project. You became good friends, as Sero’s one of those good boys, best boys, genuinely kind and fun to talk to.

Through your friendship with him, you’d met some of his friends—Kaminari, Kirishima. Mina, Sato. Bakugou.

While you’d befriended the others pretty easily, Bakugou was a different story. And it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He’d chilled out considerably by your third year.

It was because of your cringey, super obvious crush on him during your first year.

You were so painfully obvious about it, everyone in your class knew. It didn’t take long for kids in the other courses to take notice. When Bakugou entered a room you were in, you would freeze and forget what you were saying. You’d sneak glances at him, and your entire body would warm up if your eyes met. Even thinking about it now, as an adult, makes you want to die a little.

Thankfully, whether it was because he chose to willfully ignore you or because he just never found out, your crush ran its course. It helped a lot that you began interacting with Bakugou within social circles because of Sero; it humanized him, made him real to you. The fantasy of a crush can’t survive knowing someone, getting to know them, you found.

Still, probably because of that history, you never got close to Bakugou, while at UA and after. You were too embarrassed, and now you’re just not super interested. If you don’t count this past year, since graduation, you’ve seen him only a handful of times, always in passing and never one-on-one.

But if you do count this year, specifically the past six months, you’ve seen him a lot.

At a get-together at Mina’s place. At Todoroki Shouto’s birthday a couple months back. At a dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina a few weeks ago. You figure he’s had some free time open up, to accept the hangout invites that he once left unresponded to in the group chat. It’d make sense, since he’s at this ryokan when everyone knows he’s a workaholic.

You’re happy for him. Work-life balance is super important. And you guys aren’t getting any younger.

“No, you guys are weird together,” Rie says.

You throw a pillow at her. To your annoyance, she catches it easily.

“What do you mean by weird?” you ask.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. He always looks like he’s bitten into a lemon when he sees you.”

You roll your eyes. “Great. Can we stop talking about Bakugou now?”

“Last question, I swear.”

“Last question for the entire trip about him,” you say, narrowing your eyes at her.

She sighs, as if this is a huge burden on her. “Deal. I was just thinking—what did you even see in him when we were teenagers?”

“Okay, but why are you thinking about this at all,” you say.

“Just answer the question.”

“It’s not that deep,” you say, shrugging. “I liked his face.”

“Really?” Rie’s expression, disgruntled and appalled, makes you laugh.

“Don’t act like he’s not objectively really attractive. He’s handsome, be real.”

“Maybe to some people,” she relents. “But his personality cancels it out, carry the two.”

“He’s mellowed out so much over the years,” you say. You feel a little odd, finding yourself defending him. “He’s sweet, when he wants to be. Remember how he got Mina that bracelet she wanted so badly, for her birthday? Or how he picked up those special oranges for Hanta when he went on that one mission?”

Rie looks at you for a long moment. As your words settle into the silence, you begin to feel self-conscious. But it’s not like what you’d said isn’t true. Rie knows this.

Just as you open your mouth to no doubt incriminate yourself further, she leans back on the bed and closes her eyes. “I guess you’re right. You done folding those clothes? I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner. Hanta says it’s kaiseki.”

Dinner is absolutely delicious. Your server tells you and Rie that the chef’s designed the menu to feature ingredients native to the region, ingredients in season. Everything’s fresh, and even dishes you aren’t normally particularly fond of have you cleaning your plate. You feel spoiled.

You take lots of pictures. Of the dishes, of Rie. You send them to Sero.

Hanta: The food looks great! My girl looks even better!!! Send more pics pls

Rie’s pleased when you show her the messages. After fussing over her appearance, she makes you take a picture of her in your room’s outdoor bath, hair elegantly twisted up and off her shoulders, the ambient lighting softly illuminating her face.

“I’m going to take a walk, see what that little bamboo garden looks like at night,” you tell her. She waves at you with one hand, tapping away at her phone, no doubt sending messages to Sero.

“Don’t drop your phone in the water,” you say, and she makes an impatient sound, shooing you.

Smiling, you leave her to it.

Now that it’s nighttime, the ryokan is quieter, more subdued. It’s easy enough to find the bamboo garden. The paths are brightly illuminated, the walkways clear and easy to take. Maybe because it’s the evening, but you encounter few people. Most are partaking in the onsen, unwinding after a long day, you guess. You plan to do so yourself, but you stumble across a dimly lit sitting area overlooking a small pond and waterfall. It’s pretty, and you can’t resist lingering. Taking a seat on a bench, you let your mind empty as you watch the glimmer of moonlight on the water.

“Hey,” a voice says behind you, and you startle, turning.

Bakugou’s standing there, looking uncharacteristically soft and undone in the onsen’s yukata. His hair is a little damp, spikes fallen.

Seeing him in traditional wear takes you aback; you’ve only ever seen him in casual clothes—jeans, shirts, sweats. His hero suit, all sleek lines. The yukata’s a good look on him.

“Oh hey, Bakugou,” you say, then hesitate, feeling awkward. What to say? Should you pretend this is the first you’ve seen of him here?

While you flounder a little, Bakugou walks over to sit in a chair nearby, facing the water. You’re bewildered at this turn of events. You’re surprised he stopped to say hello, let alone sit and have a conversation with you.

“Saw you and Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend at dinner,” he says. “You on vacation?”

Blinking, relieved, you reply, “Sort of. Long story short, Hanta was supposed to come out here with Rie, but work denied his time off. So I’m the replacement Hanta.”

Bakugou looks at you. His eyes narrow. You shift in your seat, feeling a little bit like a bug under a microscope. Did you say something weird?

“What about you?” you ask, trying to lift the focus off of you. “You here on vacation?”

“...Yeah. For the weekend,” he says, looking back at the pond, exhaling sharply.

For someone on vacation, he doesn’t look too happy about it, you note.

“Us too,” you tell him. “What do you think of the ryokan? I haven’t gotten the chance to explore yet, but what I’ve seen is gorgeous. Did you just use the public onsen?”

“It’s alright,” Bakugou grumbles, and you blink, face scrunching up in incredulity.

“You must have really high standards to say that, sir,” you say, and he snorts. An expression you can’t quite make out in the low light crosses his face, fades. He really is a handsome bastard, you find yourself thinking.

He says something you don’t quite catch.

“Sorry?” you say. Internally, you scold yourself for your idle thoughts. Another part of you argues back that there’s no harm in looking.

“How’d you know I used the onsen?” he repeats, looking a little annoyed.

“Oh,” you say, surprised. Without thinking, you lean forward, reaching out to touch his hair.

Bakugou turns his head sharply; he grabs your wrist on what seems like instinct, halting you. You freeze, mortified.

“I’m sorry!” you say hastily. He drops your hand immediately, like you’re contaminated. You draw back. Flustered, you continue, “It’s just—your hair’s still a little wet. I took a guess. Sorry again, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You were treating him like he’s Hanta, or Rie, as if you’re close friends. Jeez.

“Forget it,” he says gruffly.

There’s a long stretch of silence, and you begin to think of excuses to make to escape.

Just as you open your mouth with one, he says, “What’re you doing tomorrow?”

“I—I think Rie wanted to check out the town’s morning market, and the temple nearby,” you say. “She likes to sleep in, so we’ll probably do that after my morning run. The staff said there’s a scenic walking trail through the forest, so I’ll probably check it out.”

You force your mouth closed before the rambling continues. Wait, you should ask him the same, right? To be polite?

But before you can say anything, Bakugou grunts, then stands.

“Go back to your room,” he tells you. “It’s getting late.”

With that, he leaves. You sit there for a long moment, staring after him.

“Hey, welcome back,” Rie says from her bed, covered from nose to toes in a blanket. Her eyelids droop in a way that tells you she’s minutes from sleep. “You were gone for a while.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you say, closing the door behind you. Woodenly, you begin to gather clothes to change into. “I’m going to take a quick shower, okay? Go ahead and sleep; don’t wait up for me.”

“Mmkay,” she says, eyes already closed.

You move around as quietly as you can, getting ready for bed.

All the while, you can’t help but think about the conversation you just had. About Bakugou.

For the past couple months, at gatherings with mutual friends, it’s been like this when you talk to each other. Awkward, with a strange underlying tension. You’re not sure if it’s your fault, or his, but. You wish you could be normal around him. It’s only like this with him.

As you climb into bed, getting settled, the memory of him in his yukata flashes across your closed eyelids. The moonlight on his face, cooling the red of his eyes. His hand around your wrist.

Fuck.

Notes: Hello friends! This fic is a very belated birthday fic for our guy, my little muse 🧡 This is intended to be a twoshot, and I hope to have that second part up next weekend. Please look forward to it!

A couple notes, as there are some specifically Japanese items referenced in this fic:

A ryokan is a Japanese-style inn! Onsen are hot springs. So an onsen ryokan is an inn that features hot springs on the property. Here, here, and here are videos you can enjoy of people visiting some.

Kaiseki is a multi-course, traditional Japanese dinner. Some of the videos I linked above show the kinds of kaiseki offered!

Thank you for reading! Hugs and kisses 💕 Until part two!

#happy birthday bakugou loml #i know i have been Not Posting recently but please enjoy this meal!!!!#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bnha #jess scribbles #fic: dystam?

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princeoftheeternalbog · 7 months

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OP characters reacting to you kissing them and running away (here's part 2) established relationship ish. Feel free to ask for other characters.

ALSO I've definitely seen another creator who did this idea with op characters but I can't remember who so if someone could tell me I would really love to credit them :(. I tried to make mine different but still it's the principal of it.

Slightly suggestive in some parts so mdni.

Luffy

Thinks its a new game like tag but with kisses and it ends up actually becoming one. You'll both wait for the other to become distracted and then you'll strike, planting a kiss and sprinting off around the ship or the island you're docked at. It's not hard to chase after each other because the trails of laughter are so easy to follow and it always ends up with one of you on the floor from a tackle or something similar.

Zoro

Gobsmacked. Genuinely his jaw drops especially if there's other people there and you get away so easily only because of how long it takes his brain to boot back online. Oh but he doesn't let it go. He waits until you're in a similar situation, either talking to someone or doing work and he sneaks up to pull you into a deep, intense kiss that leaves your knees weak. Like he fully puts the moves on you, hand on your lower back, other hand cradling your jaw, hes literally licking into your mouth and then he just disappears for the rest of the day. Asshole.

Sanji

You are not running away from this man. Not in a scary way but he can't do just one short kiss, as soon as you're leaning in his hands settle firm on your hips and that grip is not something you can wiggle out of. You can try to run away but he just laughs at you and pulls you closer to him, ofc he would let go if you actually wanted him to but he knows what you're trying to pull. Says something like "Oh? Trying to run darlin? How sweet." swoon- Just don't even bother, he will always try to win if your affection is involved.

Nami

Honestly thinks nothing of it. A lot of your affection is sweet but quick because yk pirate life. But if you look disappointed from her lack of reaction then she catches on quickly and starts playing along. So sweet even though she can be scary. Oh but don't try to run if she's initiating, like Sanji you aren't going to get out of her grip. If she wants to shower you with affection, she is going to thank you very much. If you do manage to slip away she's surprisingly quick and surprisingly stealthy. Like you'll think you got away and you walk into a room and she drops down from the ceiling like fucking batman.

(maybe not that dramatic but shes good)

Robin

She lets you run away but only because she knows she could summon a mouth to kiss you at any time and in any place so she's content knowing she always wins. Also thinks it's really cute when you try to rile her up like this, she just finds it so endearing and usually ends up playing into it anyways- "My, my, aren't you getting so bold my love". Sometimes will purposefully trip you up while you're doing these antics so you can't get away or so your plan is ruined, absolutely pretends she has no idea what you're talking about.

Usopp

Highly likely he was doing something when it happened. Highly likely he dropped something onto his foot as a result. Yowls like an injured cat and then when his brain catches up it's like steam comes out of his ears. Stands there with his mouth open and pointing at you like you betrayed his entire family. Very funny and very cute. Also a possibility of him smacking you out of fearful instinct in which case he'd probably cry his eyes out and beg for forgiveness. Nami makes it worse by punching him in the face for hitting you. A mess all around if you get him at the wrong time so just be careful.

Ace

Immediately sprinting after you, it's actually a bit scary. But like hey he's not letting you get away with just one measly little peck on the cheek. Absolutely nobody on the crew helps you unless it would be funny, i.e. someone tripping Ace up so he faceplants. If it's near the beginning of your relationship then you likely go back out of concern which he takes as a chance to catch you, but if it's later then you already know this man's antics and you know he wouldn't be injured just from tripping so you use it as an opportunity to get away💪. You still have to kiss it better later though when hes whining to you about how cruel you are for leaving him in the dust(he would do the same).

Izou

Don't bother. As soon as you turn he snatches you by the back of your collar and pulls you onto his lap, proceeds to resume his conversation like nothing is wrong but his arms are firm around your waist and his cheeks and ears are a particularly pretty shade of red. Once his conversation is over and the other person has left, he turns his attention to you with a very pointed look. He's not actually irritated but if he enjoys watching you squirm that's his business. "If you wanted a kiss you should've just asked my love" and then he's practically devouring your mouth. Doesn't care about the other people in the vicinity. Doesn't care that he's smudging his lipstick. Just wants to fluster you more than you flustered him.

Marco

Do you even want to run away from this man lets be real- anyways.

If he's doing work then he just laughs and lets you get away with it, tallys it in his head for later, but if he's free and hes in a good mood then he absolutely plays into it. Will chase after you. Will cheat by using his powers. Its a bit scary but also very attractive, somehow ends with him pinning you in some way (☺️), looks very smug when he wins. Like you'll end up flat on your back, legs trapped under his and his hands restraining yours and he's just grinning- "Oh what a surprise. You were so easy to catch-yoi" Yeah yeah shut up. Absolutely asks what his reward is just to see your shocked face (absolutely asks again later when you two are alone).

Sabo

VILLAIN!!!!!! Sorry only way i can describe how devious and obsessed this man would be. Like Izou he tries to snatch you immediately but you planned for this so you manage to spring out of his grip in time. You falter a bit at his reaction then because he just blinks at you for a while. You start to feel a bit nervous and when he finally grins at you, you definitely feel nervous. "Playing like that are we honey? How about I give you a headstart then?" Evil. You know he's going to catch you. He knows he's going to catch you. He's just giving you false hope but yk hope is hope so you take the chance.

You don't get far. It's not even fair how quickly he catches up to you and gets you underneath him, it takes him barely any effort, not even a strand of hair is out of place. Spends the next 10 minutes kissing you on the floor of the hallway until Koala comes back and promptly drags him back into his office.

#one piece x reader #marco the phoenix x reader #portagas d. ace x reader #x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #nami x reader #nico robin x reader #ussop x reader #izou x reader #sabo x reader #op headcanons #one piece x gn reader #gn reader #usopp x reader #one piece fics #monster trio x reader

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bby-deerling · 1 month

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Can you do a HC about living (as their gf) with their bad habbits? With Zoro, Law, Kid and Luffy 😊

this was so fun to write! here you go nonny :)

dealing with their bad habits headcanons

ft. zoro, law, kid, luffy

masterlist || commissions

luffy

he is awful about stealing food from your plate, to the point where it's hard not to snap and yell at him sometimes, even though he looks so darn cute when he makes puppy-dog eyes at you, the crumbs of your meal still stuck to the corners of his mouth. forgiving him is hard sometimes, but sanji is always willing to lock your captain out of the kitchen and make you another plate.

isn't the best listener. you'll be telling him a story, or something important or emotional and he'll either completely space out or get distracted by a bug, or a game usopp and chopper are playing. you'll have to learn to not take things personally—he doesn't mean to be rude, he just doesn't have the attention span for deep conversations sometimes.

luffy is incredibly stubborn. it's his way or the highway sometimes (most times), and he'll either pull the captain card or pout and whine incessantly to get his way. there's no getting around his iron will, and you'll have to learn to compromise with him and let him do whatever it is he's so determined to do (or call over nami to bonk him over the head and knock some sense into him).

zoro

he has the tendency to get really engrossed in his training. as a result, he often loses track of time and can end up missing important events; he's stubborn and unwilling to compromise when it comes to striving to reach his dream, so you'll have to make peace with the fact that becoming the world's greatest swordsman will always be his priority.

zoro drinks. a lot. he never gets drunk, but he can get tipsy at times. when he does he can get boisterous, which is cute, but has the potential to grind gears when it's three in the morning and he's still determined to keep the party going.

doesn't shower as much as he probably should. everyone else around him exaggerates how long he goes without showers, but he still lets himself marinate enough to the point where his scent of musk and steel is a little bit overbearing at times. if you're not a freak like me who is really into that, you'll have to get creative in order to entice him to bathe more often.

kid

god is this man loud. always shouting and never shuts up. when he drinks, it gets even worse, and he's always getting himself into trouble by running his mouth. it's never anything he can't handle with a few punches and a bit of magnetism, but you'll have to get used to the fact that he's brash to a fault.

he tends to prioritize spending time with killer over your relationship at times. he never notices himself until you're fuming mad at him, but if you talk to killer privately, he'll make and effort urge kid to hang out with you instead before things boil over too severely.

in addition to him being prone to just saying anything on his mind, he has no concept of a filter or privacy, especially if he thinks something is funny—anything that happens between you two is subject to being shared with everyone aboard the victoria punk, unless you really beat it into his head that certain things aren't to be blabbed about (and even then, he's forgetful sometimes—another bad habit of his).

law

he is prone to getting moody and emotional, and tends to distance himself from you during these periods. truthfully, he secretly wants you to chase after him and dote on him, but he's too prideful to ask for it, so you'll have to observe him closely to figure out what his real emotional needs are.

sometimes he slips into his "captain voice" when he's talking to you in private and will accidentally order you to do something that he's easily capable of doing himself. he doesn't mean to do it, it's just a reflex that he has to unlearn—though he still slips up at times, which leaves you a tiny bit miffed.

he forgets to put the toilet seat down sometimes, especially when you first start staying in his room. he's so used to having his own bathroom that the thought doesn't even cross his mind until you complain about it. he makes a conscious effort, but every so often you nearly fall into the toilet bowl in the middle of the night and have to swallow your annoyance.

#one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #zoro x reader #law x reader #eustass kid x reader #luffy x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #trafalgar law x reader #eustass kidd x reader #law x you #zoro x you #luffy x you #one piece fanfiction

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sundrop-writes · 1 month

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Careful - Chapter Five

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Five: Brick By Boring Brick

Her prince finally came to save her, and the rest you can figure out.

Summary:

The world is closing in around you. You're supposed to sit in your home and wait for a killer to come to you, and your son seems to prefer a man that you were convinced never should have been in his life in the first place.

What happened? Where did you go wrong?

The only way to find out is to reflect on the past - and to perhaps, forgive something you once thought was unforgivable.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.

Word Count: 9,700

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: again, general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder, stalking; the reader character is being victimized by a serial killer; angst - lots of emotional angst; the reader character and Spencer argue and hash things out; this chapter shows the flashback of how their relationship ended; mentions of drugs/drug use/drug addiction - there is mentions of Spencer’s drug addiction after the incident with Tobias Hankel; mentions of the reader having an eating disorder (in the past, before meeting Spencer); mentions of how pregnancy can affect eating disorders; mentions of the reader having an absent father; mentions of Spencer’s trauma/PTSD after the Hankel incident; mentions of lack of hygiene/lack of cleaning his apartment due to trauma and depression; Spencer uses his profiling skills to insult the reader; I believe that is it for this chapter.

A/N: This is it! This is the big chapter where we all find out what happened for them to break-up! I hope everyone enjoys it. (I am not gonna lie, I am really starting to mentally stall with this series, and I am really eager to work on something else lmao. So let's hope I can stick it out and get it done.)

...

Spencer considered lying to you.

He knew that you were going to have a hard time taking the news - there was no safehouse, no protective custody. Just him. Everything he had been offering before, nagging you about - it wasn’t truly being offered to you now. You would take it harder because now, in a sense, you and your son were being used as bait to lure the killer out and catch him in the act.

He considered lying to you. But he knew that it would ruin all the progress that the two of you had made.

So he made what he hoped was the right choice. He laid it all out for you as plainly as he could. They needed to catch him into the act, or he might choose a different victim. More innocent women might get hurt, their children being orphaned in the process. There would be unmarked cars stationed nearby, ready to help when Spencer called them in.

He would be there to protect you.

You still had a glisten of tears in your eyes, and he thought that you were going to panic. He was surprised when you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him again - but he embraced you tightly, feeling a certain selfish joy at having you back in his arms.

“As long as you’re here to protect me.” You sniffled quietly, burying your face in his chest once again.

“I’m not going to leave you.” He promised. “I don’t care what happens - I won’t let you out of my sight until we catch him.”

You didn’t bring up the fact that this likely meant sleeping in the same bed with Spencer. You weren’t sure if that was something you were looking forward to or dreading.

…

Spencer encouraged you to go about your usual routine - especially because he didn’t want Sebastian to be afraid or paranoid, even if such a smart boy could sense that you were upset and didn’t understand why.

Sebastian was easily distracted from the underlying tension when he realized that Spencer would be around to tuck him into bed.

He became so ripe with excitement that you thought it might be difficult for him to sleep. Even though his bed time wasn’t officially until later, he skipped his evening TV time to rush up the stairs so that Spencer would come with him. He insisted that Spencer help him pick out his pajamas, and then he wanted to show Spencer his toothbrush that played Moonlight Sonata (a toothbrush that was designed to play exactly two minutes of a song so that kids knew how long to brush their teeth).

You followed them upstairs and any efforts you made to help - showing Spencer which drawer the pjs were in and pointing to the drawer with the toothpaste in it - you were brushed off by Sebastian, who insisted that they didn’t need your help. He only wanted help from his new best friend.

Observing the whole thing truly made you wonder what the past four years of your life would have been like with Spencer there.

It caused a kind of lovesick nostalgia to flood you. Something that overtook you as you watched Spencer kneel down by the sink to get on Sebastian’s level, quietly complimenting him on his brushing technique and reminding him not to miss any spots - ready with a cloth to wipe your son’s face when he was all done.

You could only imagine how sweet he would have been with the newborn, tightly swaddled Seb; how he would have taken care of you so well after you gave birth, how perfect he would have looked with a baby in his arms. All of it left you stewing in regret, and you tried incredibly hard to hide a frown from Sebastian for the dozenth time that day.

Soon, Sebastian was rushing to jump into bed, and shouting an all too familiar request.

“Mommy, the stars!” He cheered brightly, pointing toward the lightswitch.

Spencer’s expression grew confused at this, and you felt a tingle of delight surge over the fear and anxiety for the first time in hours.

You turned off the lights, and then you walked over to a bookshelf on the far side of the room - on top of which, you had set up a star projector for Sebastian. It was something you had gotten for him as a night light when he was still very little. Even if it was an unconscious whim at the time - you couldn’t deprive Spencer’s son of the stars.

You switched it on and an array of bright stars were projected onto the ceiling, causing Spencer’s neck to crane upward in awe. Sebastian giggled in delight and flung himself backward in bed to look at it.

“He usually sleeps with this on as a night light, but he’s probably gonna want a story before he goes to sleep.” You said, motioning toward the book shelf. “You can turn the side lamp on.” You pointed to that as well. “Are you guys gonna be okay while I go get my pjs on?”

You knew that Spencer wasn’t likely to let you out of his sight - and that was exactly the look that came in his eyes; hesitant dread, clear to you even through the semi-darkness with the bright swirling lights moving across the ceiling reflected onto his face.

“Don’t lock your door.” He told you quietly. “And make sure to holler if you need anything.”

He chose his words carefully, not wanting to alarm Sebastian.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him. “I’m right down the hall.”

Then you turned to Sebastian - who was laying on his back, still admiring the stars, already looking sleepy. He’d had quite an exciting, usual day - so that wasn’t entirely surprising to you.

“I’ll come back and kiss you goodnight in a minute, okay?” You told him. “Spencer is gonna read you your goodnight story. Sounds good?”

“Yeah!” Sebastian easily agreed. “I love you, Mommy!”

That grin, those big eyes looking up at you - it really reminded you why all the pain was worth it. That you would do anything to protect him.

“I love you, too, Seb.” You leaned down and kissed his forehead, and then you moved to walk out of the room.

He added something on that caught you off guard, though, causing you to freeze in the doorway.

“Mommy?” He called out, and you turned back to look at him. “Can Spencer stay forever?”

You felt as though a fist had been jammed into your throat.

All of your bones were concrete stiff, and you couldn’t bear a single glance in Spencer’s direction - you felt his eyes on you, but you couldn’t face him.

“We - we’ll talk about it more tomorrow, okay?” You replied, having to clear your throat roughly in order to get the words out.

“Okay.” Sebastian huffed quietly, rolling into a yawn.

When you left the room, Spencer felt an intense temptation to follow you simply to pursue that subject - but he had an obligation toward his son now. Something he hadn’t had the privilege of partaking in before.

A simple bedtime story.

Spencer settled in with Sebastian and you rushed down the hallway toward your room. You closed the door behind you (not locking it) - the second that you were alone, the tears rushed out before you could stop them.

Of course your son had missed his father’s presence in his life. Even if he didn’t know that Spencer was his father - their personalities were so well-matched, and Spencer was so good with him.

How could you have been so stupid? Who were you to deny a child of his father?

You walked over to your bed and sat on the edge, and then you took your jewelry box out of your bedside table drawer - you kept it right next to the lock box that contained your gun. You opened the jewelry box and took out the star necklace that Spencer had given you, staring at the pendant in the middle of your palm with deep contemplation.

You had broken up with him for a good reason. Many good reasons. And you had known your reasons back then - and they had been life-altering. Back then - it felt like choosing between a secure life for your baby and choosing the chaos of chasing the life of your love. Back then - Spencer was so unstable. He hadn’t been fit to raise a child.

The Spencer who had swept you off your feet and treated you like a princess - the man who had given you the necklace; he was not the same person you had faced down, vicious and bitter on the night that you had broken up with him.

But that man who gave you the necklace - it felt like the same man who held you in the kitchen and promised that nothing would happen to you. It felt like the same man who looked at your son like he had hung each and every star in the sky.

You put the necklace back on with shaking hands, struggling to clasp it for a moment. You hoped that it would be an omen. The man who had given you this necklace was back, to stay - he could raise a family with you. He could be your stability. He could be what you and Seb needed.

Then, you tried to shut off your mind as you went about getting ready for bed yourself. Even though you were pretty certain that you weren’t going to sleep with all this hanging over your head, it was still nice to be in comfortable clothing; to have a routine. You did your nightly skincare (but you didn’t bother to brush your teeth, knowing that you were likely going to want some coffee soon), put on your pajamas, and uncaring if Spencer noticed - shed your bra, needing to relieve some tension from somewhere.

You left the room wearing a pair of loose, thin pajama pants and a large tee shirt with Garfield on the front of it; along with your slippers and an unzipped hoodie. You had the necklace freely untucked from the neckline of your shirt, knowing that Spencer would spot the silver chain and know what it was anyway.

He was a profiler, so he could read you like a book anyway. You hated that.

When you walked back to Sebastian’s room, you found it oddly quiet.

You were surprised that you didn’t hear the sounds of Spencer’s soothing voice reading a story, Sebastian’s laughter - his small voice egging Spencer on to read more even though it was time to go to sleep.

You stood out of view, just beyond the doorway for a moment before you decided to peer inside.

The sight inside made your chest twist with a very unique kind of pain.

Spencer was laying half on the small single bed, one of his feet on the floor to keep himself from falling off completely, his head awkwardly propped up against the headboard. Sebastian was about half a foot off the wall, cuddled up closely to Spencer, his head laid in the middle of Spencer’s chest. The Rubble plushy that Spencer had gotten him was curled up under his chin, Spencer’s arm gently petting his curly hair while he peacefully slept on top of his father for the first time in his short life.

The way Spencer looked at him was what truly broke your heart.

You knew that was the gaze of a man who had missed so much - whose own heart was breaking from all the time he had missed. Someone who was enjoying this moment more than anything in his life because he had missed out on so much of Sebastian before this.

After a few moments of you standing in the doorway silently, tears gathering in your eyes, Spencer felt your presence there. He was finally able to tear his gaze away from Sebastian’s gentle, sleeping face to look up at you.

“He said he wanted to hear ‘a new story’.” Spencer told you. “I started reciting The Old Man and The Sea from memory, and he only got about five pages in before he fell asleep.”

It didn’t surprise you that Spencer knew the novel by heart. It didn’t surprise you that his theatrical, meditative speaking voice had so easily soothed Sebastian to sleep.

You nodded, and deeply against your will - a thick tear rolled down your face.

Unable to face it any longer, you left once again - feeling like a prisoner in your own home, running from corner to corner in a poor attempt to avoid the inevitable. You rushed to the kitchen and clicked on the coffee machine before you began attending to the larger dishes from dinner - pots you had left to soak in the sink that you now wanted to scrub at in an effort to distract yourself.

Spencer felt a sense of urgency rise up in him when he saw you start crying (seemingly out of nowhere). He hated watching you run away from him for the dozenth time that day.

Any calm he had felt from watching his son fall asleep was chased out of him. But of course, he didn’t want to wake the peacefully sleeping boy, so he had to very slowly, very carefully wiggle out from underneath the sleeping boy. He adjusted Sebastian’s head onto the pillow, making sure to cover him up and tuck him in with his toy before he left the room - leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar behind him, with the star lights still circling the ceiling.

And then he practically raced downstairs to see you.

What had he done to upset you?

You wanted him to be a part of his son’s life, right? You wanted him to be a good father, right?

What the hell had he done to upset you now?

When he came into the kitchen, you were standing at the sink with your back to him, furiously scrubbing at one of the pots from dinner.

“What the hell happened?” He sighed, tired and frustrated. “What the hell could I have possibly done now?”

“You didn’t do anything.” You replied, your voice short, angry, and still choked off by tears.

In truth, it was your most honest view of the situation.

This made Spencer spike with an even deeper frustration.

He thought that the two of you had been making progress. But now, you were cutting him off again. You were trying to placate him with lies when he so badly wanted the truth. He wanted to air it all out. The two of you needed it out - out it in the open instead of festering away like a damn secret.

“No, no.” He pressed, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms, swarming with bitterness. “Come on, I must have done something.”

You remained silent, letting out a single sniffle as you continued to scrub - the only sound going through the kitchen being the sloshing of water through the sink and the bubbling of the coffee maker.

“Trust me, I know how it is.” Spencer sighed. “I don’t open up enough, I don’t trust you… it’s always my fault.”

In the months after the break-up, he had done a lot of thinking. He had gone over it in his head again and again - he had picked apart his own flaws in his mind, wondering how he could have been better for you.

“That’s just it.” You replied, your throat closing up due to your own tears. “You’re perfect.” You sniffled again. “You didn’t do anything.”

This left Spencer silent and confused - wondering for a moment if you were being sarcastic.

You put down the sponge and grabbed a dry dish cloth off to the side, drying your hands as you turned back to Spencer.

When he caught your eyes, he knew then that it wasn’t sarcasm. You were swimming in sadness, turmoil, but most of what he could see was guilt. You didn’t blame him for any of this.

“Y/N-”

“All day, you’ve been perfect.” You huffed out, cutting him off. “I’ll be honest, at first, I thought it was an act. I thought you were just playing at it, trying to show me that you could be a good father to get in my good graces. To maybe get me back.”

Spencer was hurt by this. But with the way you had started off the sentence, that didn’t seem to be your opinion now. He remained silent, letting you continue to get the full stream of your thoughts out.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to keep it up. I thought something would happen. I thought you’d slip… but then, I realized: you can’t fake it. You’re not faking it. The way you are… you’ve changed. You really have changed.” You sighed.

He was glad to hear that, but he knew that there was something else. Now, he was determined to find out why you were upset.

“Look-”

“Did I hallucinate the whole thing?” You spoke suddenly. “I just feel so crazy… Did I really break up with you for no fucking reason?”

This stung Spencer.

He knew that there had been a myriad of good reasons at the time. But something he had gone over in his mind, stewing with regret over and over again - he had never wanted it to be a break-up. He had wished over and over again that the two of you could have worked on things instead of just ending them so suddenly.

“You did have your reasons back then.” Spencer admitted quietly. “I know that you did.” Then, after a moment, he felt the need to add on: “I… I know they were good reasons. I don’t blame you for wanting to end the relationship.”

He chose his words carefully in that sense.

He fully understood ending the relationship. That was your choice. But the one thing that still plagued him-

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me that you were pregnant?” He asked, entirely exasperated.

It was as though he had flipped the knife around, plunging it into you this time.

You remained stunned and silent, not prepared to be confronted by the question, and Spencer, utterly hurt, continued on.

“You stole four years of his life from me! Four years!” He shouted, his words whipping at you in a way that made you flinch. “And you were never planning on telling me! You were gonna let me miss everything! His first day of school, his college graduation, his wedding! You never wanted me in his life! You-!”

“Because you weren’t good enough for him!” You shouted back, utterly defensive.

You hated that you couldn’t take it back - you hated the pain that flooded across Spencer’s features.

“Not back then.” You added on, knowing that it was barely a worthy addendum. “The man I left standing in that apartment wasn’t someone I wanted to raise a child with-”

“How is that any excuse?” Spencer spit back bitterly.

You glared at him.

You had your reasons then. It felt like you were on trial, now, though. And you had to scramble to put together a defense - to explain it to him when he had been the accused in the crime at the time.

“You really can’t understand why I didn’t tell you that I was pregnant?” You gaped, still defensive.

“No, I really don’t get it.” He agreed, shaking his head. “You had to know that I would have done anything to become a father. No matter what, I would have stepped up, I-”

“Oh, don’t give me that!”

You were raising your voice now, years old anger bubbling up in your veins, awoken by his self righteous attitude - his foggy nostalgia when viewing his past self.

“It was bad, Spencer. It was a bad time. And you can’t tell me with all honesty that you would have turned it around like that,” You snapped your fingers to help demonstrate the point. “Just because you found out that when you came inside me, it stuck.”

“I would have tried.” Spencer pressed.

“But you wouldn’t have tried for me?” You replied desperately.

That stung you deep, tearing open some of the wounds you still had from that night.

It was something you had suspected, but you had never heard him confirm it for certain.

When you had been back there, begging him to change - he had turned on you. You alone weren’t good enough for him.

Spencer’s face fluctuated rapidly between shock and discomfort, and with no words from him, you continued.

“A baby would have been enough for you, but when I was sobbing, begging you to get better - that wasn’t good enough?” You continued, fresh tears clutching at your throat, beginning to simulate the sight he had been met with on the night you had broken up.

It was a terrible mirror. You standing in front of him, your face a picture of pure pain with glassy tears dancing in your eyes - begging him for answers, begging him to show that he loved you. That he would step up and improve out of love for you.

Because that’s what it was.

It hit him so suddenly then.

He saw that night - that deadly, world ending fight - in a whole new light now.

…

Just before the break-up, you and Spencer hadn’t officially moved in together, but you did have a key to his apartment. Moving in together was supposed to be the next logical step in your relationship, and he was heavily considering asking you to move in with him.

Well, he had been thinking about it - before his entire world was turned upside-down by a man named Tobias Hankel. When he came home scarred and emotionally chaotic, thinking about taking ‘next steps’ in life wasn’t really something he was doing.

Instead, he was in survival mode. And for the first time in his life, he was trying to do as little thinking as possible. Whenever he spent too much time in his own head, he had nightmares - he found himself back in that tiny room, strapped down to that chair, cold and unable to escape, with death looming over his head.

He hated that he relied on the drugs to drown it all out.

Among the mess that he often found between his ears - he often forgot that you had a key to his place.

When he came home that night, he was expecting to take a particularly heavy hit that would hopefully put him right into a long, dreamless sleep. He definitely did not expect you to be there. It wasn’t something that the two of you had discussed beforehand. If you had asked to come over, he likely would have said no. He squinted against the lights as he opened the door to his apartment and a particular wave of nausea hit him as the smell of food cooking hit his nose.

Perhaps it was that ironic kind of nausea that only comes after starving for so long. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. Of course, his body seemed to run perfectly fine on nothing but coffee and that precious thing that felt so heavy in his pocket. As far as he knew, he didn’t need to eat.

“Spencer?” You called out his name when you heard the door creaking on its hinges, and Spencer sighed deep in his chest when he realized that the interaction was inevitable.

So much for a peaceful night.

You had been so much of a nag lately. The way you had been acting, he would even border on calling it bitchy.

When he wanted you there for meaningless sex to get his mind off things or even if he just wanted to cuddle, when he needed you to hold him - you always wanted to talk. You were constantly on him, asking him what was wrong, and how you could help. You wouldn’t just shut up and leave well enough alone; no matter how many times he told you to lay off and insisted that he was fine. (He knew that it was a lie, but he didn’t force you to talk about your problems. He wished you could see that he just wanted to be left alone. That he could get through this on his own.)

The last time he had seen you, he had torn out of your apartment at the speed of sound when he had taken off his sweater in anticipation of some hopefully mind numbing orgasms - and instead, you had asked about the marks on his arm.

And he had been dreading seeing you again ever since.

“Hey.” He called back dully, slinking in the door and closing it behind him.

He tossed his keys onto a nearby table - one that was already messy with books and newspapers. He took off his messenger bag and tossed it down carelessly too, still not turning to look at you as he peeled off his outer jacket. He left a sweater on underneath to keep his arms covered; he didn’t need any more questioning from you right now.

“I made you dinner.” You pointed out, your voice tentatively hopeful. “It’s that cheese tortellini that you said you liked. And I stopped by that little shop downtown and got some of those chocolate cupcakes.”

When Spencer finally turned around, you were holding a bright pink box with the lid open, displaying two very plump, beautifully decorated chocolate cupcakes - a small, tired smile on your lips while you waited for him to say something about the kindness of the gesture.

A fresh wave of nausea rolled over him at the sight and all he felt was annoyance.

(What made things worse was that you had clearly taken the time to dress up. You were wearing one of your nicer dresses, a matching cardigan thrown over your shoulders. A light, but well done dusting of makeup across your beautiful features. If Spencer wasn’t mistaken, he could hear the clack of heels beyond the counter where he couldn’t see your lower half. You looked gorgeous, and it made him feel all the more like garbage where he stood.)

“You didn’t have to.” He huffed out, still trying to be civil, even though all he wanted at the moment was to be left alone in his own home, rather than having you there, bothering him.

“It’s okay, I wanted to.” You giggled, closing the box and setting it aside. “You’re absolutely worth it.”

That was it. That was the comment that truly cut through him.

Because he wasn’t worth it - he was a scumbag. He was a piece of trash who pitied a man who had killed seven people, and he should have died in that shitty little shack in the cemetery instead of standing here with you while you took the time to buy him cupcakes and make him dinner. He shouldn’t get to be spoiled by you after everything he had done.

Every ounce of that anger that he was feeling toward himself boiled over like a terrible overcooked pot and came spitting out like hot oil, ready to burn you.

“Can you just shut up?” He snapped. “I didn’t ask you to do any of this.”

He felt regret churn in his stomach when your face curled with hurt, and he was surprised when you didn’t immediately leave.

“It’s okay.” You said quietly.

The fact that you rolled over so easily, so apologetic - that annoyed him more.

He watched on with shock as you reached a hand toward your purse, which was sequestered off on one edge of the counter - a space you had clearly cleaned off before you had started cooking.

(Spencer could only imagine how much you looked down upon him, considering him a lazy pig with how messy and generally unhygienic his apartment was because - even though he hated it - he couldn’t bring himself to clean with his generally mental disarray as of late.)

You put a hand into the open zipper of your bag and soon came out with something you easily knew was there, didn’t even have to dig around for, and Spencer watched on curiously as your hand came back with a thick fistful of colorful pamphlets.

“I also got these for you.” You said, extending the arm out to him.

He had a terrible knot in his gut.

He stepped forward on shaking legs and when he grabbed them from you - surely enough, it was exactly what he had feared.

Spencer’s eyes grew tense with anger as he scanned over it all.

A bunch of crap about sober living with generic stock images of people smiling - well paid models who had never known a single day of pain in their stupid, well groomed lives. People who could never even imagine what Spencer had been through.

“We can talk about it when you’re ready.” You told him, anxiety keeping your breath tight in your chest as you spoke. “I know it’s hard, so-”

What the hell did you know?

“God, you are so fucking full of it!” Spencer shouted, tossing down the pamphlets, causing them to scatter across the counter in a mess, his sudden spike in volume making you flinch.

As though you had been slapped, it took you a moment to recover from the pure shock of his words before you could actually speak any kind of reply.

“What?” You gaped at him. “Spencer, what the hell do you mean? I’m trying to help-”

“‘Oh, I know it’s hard.’” He repeated your words in a mocking voice. “Please, what the hell do you know?”

That caused a dangerous shift in you, turning the understanding and pity inside of you toward fed-up anger.

“I don’t know anything because you won’t tell me!” You shouted back. “You won’t even tell me what the hell is wrong! It’s like you don’t even fucking trust me!”

Unconsciously, this is exactly what Spencer had wanted. He had wanted a fight - claws, noise. He needed to be punished. He couldn’t stand you sitting around, acting so damn calm, being so sweet to him when he was so awful.

“Why should I tell you?” Spencer argued, grasping blindly at nothing, yelling just to make noise. “It’s none of your goddamn business!”

“Why wouldn’t this be any of my business?” You gasped. “Spencer, we’ve been together for - what? Almost three years now?”

It had been two years, eleven months, and three days since your first date. It had been two years, eleven months, and fifteen days since he had first spoken to you. It had been three years and four days since he had first laid eyes on you - thinking that you were the most beautiful woman on earth, thinking that he would never, ever work up the courage to speak to you. Thinking that there was no chance on earth that you would ever actually be his.

And now, he was about to ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him.

All good things must come to an end, right?

“I care about you.” You said, your voice cracking around the words - the ghost of tears beginning to form in your throat, like dark clouds forming in the sky before a storm. “That makes it my business.”

Spencer huffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“It’s not just ‘whatever’, Spencer!” You screamed, your frustration flaring up once again.

He didn’t speak, he just kept on glaring at you. This pissed you off more - finally gave you the balls to say it.

“You’re on drugs!” You finally found the courage to speak it aloud. There was a tense stare down as you waited for him to deny the accusation. When he didn’t, a sharp spear pierced your chest, and the first tears fell. “You’re hurting yourself. This is a big deal, baby. You need help.”

Looking back on it now - it had been four years, nine months, and eight days since the last time you had called him ‘baby’. He should have seen it then, but this was the beginning of the end.

He should have latched onto it as a safety line and pulled himself ashore. He should have accepted the help that you were so graciously offering him.

But instead, at the time - it only stung him more. It only showed him a display of the sweetness that he didn’t think he deserved. It only caused him to turn on his defenses more.

Like a poisonous plant evolving his instincts in the worst way - it made him fight back harder.

“Don’t tell me what I fucking need!” Spencer cried out, every inch of his voice utterly insulted. “So what if I’m on drugs? You’re not a fucking peach yourself!” He let out a bitter, airy chuckle with these words, and instantly your face shifted.

A very large part of you knew that he was resorting to personal attacks because he was desperately trying to shift the attention away from himself - away from talking about his own problems. But with the shock and hurt pulsing through your system, you couldn’t truly focus on the logic of it all.

“What?” You gaped. “Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“You - you act so goddamn perfect all the time, but-”

He stuttered, hesitating for a fraction of a moment, watching the hurt and confusion tangle over your beautiful features - he could have blamed it on the drugs in his system or the fact that the trauma had been so recent and he technically had not ‘recovered’ from it. But he made the final move, then, hurling a harpoon into your relationship, making a giant wound that couldn’t be recovered from.

“But you’re a pathetic, shallow little girl with abandonment issues because your father left you before you hit puberty-” He said, breaking you down in that intense, psychological, profiler way. “You seek validation from me, the man you’re having sex with, in the most utterly Freudian way, and when you don’t receive that validation, you starve yourself in the name of vanity, seeking satisfaction and control that you’ll never truly obtain because you’re a narcissistic control freak!”

He managed to hit every point perfectly; he had used his skills to look into your soul, hand-picking every single thing that would have hurt you most. Given, he also had information that you had told him during late-night conversations where the two of you had bonded. You had told him about your shitty father and the eating disorder that you struggled with on and off since childhood (and still occasionally struggled with since you had met him). He had told you about his mother and his own shitty father - but it was never something that you would have used against him.

You knew that it was meant to hurt you - to distract you. You knew that he was lashing out in order to put a wall between himself and you. But you couldn’t help the giant lump that rose up in your throat, the flood of tears that poured freely down your face.

Hearing those words right from his mouth was one of your worst nightmares come to life - as though one of your safest, softest places to land was now a bed of thorns.

Spencer’s gut twisted when he saw you crying, but like a man possessed, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Did you honestly think that being with me was going to fix you?” He let out a dark chuckle, sounding well and truly like a super villain, punching right through your heart. “Maybe, you should spend less time focusing on me and my supposed problems,” He griped, sarcasm tight on his lips. “And spend a bit more time fixing yourself.”

You sucked in a chest rattling breath, and began gathering your purse, leaving the pamphlets on the counter as you moved to grab your coat off the hook.

You would forever regret turning back for one last word, your throat quaking hard and struggling to even get the words out.

“And how would you recommend that I do that?” You asked, entirely bitter.

“Well, for starters, you could use a few less cupcakes in your life.” He replied, snarky, demanding.

He was angry about the cupcakes because they represented everything good about you - your generosity, your kindness, your propensity to view the small things in life as a representation of life being good as a whole.

It came off sounding like a jab at your weight, degrading your perfect body - especially after he had called you narcissistic for having an eating disorder.

A sharp jolt went through his chest when the words fully penetrated his own ears - when he truly heard how terrible it was.

Especially when he saw the look of horror that struck your gorgeous, tear-soaked features.

“Y/N-” He said your name so softly, and an apology begging to be chased from his lungs.

But you wouldn’t let him.

“We’re done here.” You declared, a dark finality in your voice as you turned and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind you.

At the time, Spencer simply thought you meant - done with the conversation. He didn’t know that you had already decided that your words were declaring - done with the relationship. At the time, you were well and truly done with Spencer Reid.

He ached to chase after you, to scream apologies down the hall, no matter who would hear him - but his feet only carried him as far as the door before he collapsed against it, pressing his forehead hard into the wood while his soul clawed at the inside of his chest, aching to get to you, mourning that he had hurt you so badly.

Spencer left the food to go stale, turning off all the lights in the apartment. Then he took a strong hit, and cried himself to sleep.

He woke up the next morning stewing in regret. He called you, and of course, you didn’t answer. He sat on the edge of his bed, thinking. He wondered if he should go to your favorite coffee shop, get your favorite breakfast and go to your place to force his way in so that he could talk things over with you. He wondered if he should agree to go to one of the sober treatment programs that you had picked out just to please you.

While he was considering all of this, his phone rang, and he rushed to pick it up, thinking that maybe it was you. It was JJ, alerting him to a case. He gathered his things and left for work, letting you fall into the back of his mind, thinking that he would be able to pick up the pieces and apologize when he got back.

But it had been too late.

The next time he opened his apartment door, he tripped over the key he had given you. You had slid it under the door in order to return it to him after locking up.

You had let yourself in to gather your things from Spencer’s place, and to leave a very large box of his things that had been left at your place in the middle of his kitchen counter. Beside that box was an envelope with his name on it. A six page handwritten letter from you, explaining all of your reasoning for not wanting to speak to him in person, wishing him well in getting sober, telling him not to make any efforts to contact you again because he had hurt you so badly and you simply needed to heal - and declaring the end of the relationship finite and official.

(Your pregnancy, of course, was mentioned nowhere among those six pages.)

Several weeks later, Spencer would receive a similar letter from Gideon when he left the BAU without telling anyone.

When he read your letter, Spencer sobbed so loudly that his throat hurt.

And after reading it several more times, letting it truly hit him - he flushed the last of the stash he had down the toilet. A few weeks later, after he had worked up the courage, he went to your apartment. After a while of him knocking on the door and calling your name, begging for you to come out and see him, one of your neighbors came out. They yelled at him to shut up, and informed him that you had moved.

That was the first day Spencer went to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting.

…

It had all happened so fast.

You found out you were pregnant, and you knew that the end of your lease was coming up. It had been a time you were hoping to move in with Spencer, but with that hope blown to shreds, you needed a fresh start.

Your mom knew someone selling for cheap because it was in a newly developing area, and most of the other houses around it weren’t finished yet. She thought it wouldn’t appeal to you because it was in a different state, but - you found yourself calling the real estate agent and packing up your boxes that week.

You figured that because you had done so well growing up without a father, your kid didn’t need one either. You didn’t want Spencer to cause more trouble being in his life and being unstable than not being there at all.

So you fled. It seemed like the wisest decision at the time.

…

Spencer had been so stupid.

Not only had he hurt you badly - but you had wanted him to get sober out of love. You had been so patient with him, so soft, so loving. You weren’t talking about his addiction because you wanted to pick apart his flaws. You hadn’t gone to his apartment that night because you wanted to hurl around accusations. You hadn’t wanted to be invasive; you hadn’t thought that he was a genuinely horrible, broken person and you simply wanted him to admit that.

You saw that he was hurting and you had wanted to help him heal.

At the time, you had nothing but love for him - and you had even loved those broken parts of him. He hadn’t been prepared to accept that love. He had made a terrible mistake. And there was only one thing he could do now.

Spencer shocked you when he moved from leaning on the kitchen counter and got down on his knees in front of you. Your jaw slacked in shock and you stared down at him as he clasped his hands together as though praying, staring up at you with his wide, wet eyes.

“I am so sorry.” He said, his voice quaking around the words. “I know that I could never apologize enough for what happened - I was horrible to you back then. You definitely didn’t hallucinate that.”

“Well… it wasn’t all you, right? I mean, you weren’t really yourself then.” You sniffled, clearly making an implication toward the fact that he had been taking drugs.

All this time, you had put a lot of emotional stake in that. When you looked back on your memories with Spencer, you hoped that drugs was solely the reason he had turned into a different person - a kind of person who would make such harsh personal attacks toward you.

It made a lot of sense as to why he was so sweet, so normal, so personable, so good with Sebatian, so himself now. He must be sober.

“That’s no excuse.” He told you. “I need to take full responsibility for my behavior. I treated you with the type of cruelty that no person should ever have to experience, let alone a partner.”

“Spencer, get up, please.” You reached over and grabbed the fabric at the shoulder of his shirt, and he let you haul him to his feet.

It felt all too natural to stay close to you.

As you leaned up against the counter beside the sink, your hands drifted to his waist and pulled him to you. And his hands lingered behind you on the counter, bracketing you in. His face hovered close to yours - this was the closest he had come to kissing you all day. His eyes lingered on your lips.

But he knew that the two of you were too close now - too close to the truth.

He had to let you speak instead. He couldn’t risk ruining things again.

“I accept your apology.” You told him quietly.

It was something you had been waiting years to hear him say. This moment - this whole day - it was like something out of your distant fantasies. You didn’t think that you would ever get to see this version of Spencer again. And now, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with him. You still felt too cautious.

“I really want to work on things.” It was the truth, and you knew that you had to speak it out loud. “I really want you to be a part of Sebastian’s life.”

I really want to work on things.

It was the tiniest scrap of hope, but it was all he needed to pursue things.

“Are you and I gonna work on things?” Spencer asked, barely above a whisper, reaching a hand up to oh-so-gently brush his fingers across the side of your face. “Is there a future for us?”

He closed his eyes and tentatively pressed his forehead into yours while you tightly gripped onto the fabric of his shirt. His soul was clawing at his chest once again, feeling all too much like the night you had left him in the apartment all alone.

But this time, he wasn’t prepared to let you go.

“Can you answer something honestly?” You whispered.

“Anything.” Spencer replied.

“Have you…?” You breathed out, unsure how to phrase the question. “When was the last time… are you clean? Like - are you sober?”

You were almost certainly sure that he was. He was acting so different, so much more like the version of Spencer that you had fallen in love with. But you couldn’t have someone who was actively on drugs parenting your son. And you had to hope that his prolonged trip to the bathroom earlier wasn’t for that reason.

“One thousand, seven hundred, and two days.” Spencer replied. “That’s how long I’ve been sober.”

That was a very long time. You let out a breath of relief, and Spencer felt it puff out against his chin. To clarify, he then said:

“It’s about - four years, eight months, and two days.” He added on.

“So… a little after the time I ended things.” You concluded.

You felt a pang of guilt flow through you. At the time, you knew that breaking up with him was a risk. It was a painful event, and he could have turned to drugs even more for comfort. You had taken away his support system, something that could have helped him in getting sober. But he was spiraling, and you couldn’t stay there and let him take you down too.

When you found out about the pregnancy, you realized that a large part of how quick you were to act and how rash you were was likely due to the pregnancy hormones. But you weren’t going to rush back and apologize to Spencer because you didn’t want an addict helping to raise your child. You didn’t think that he would simply quit cold turkey because he found out about the baby - not from the way you had seen him.

But apparently -

“The break-up… the way things ended, it was a huge catalyst in helping me get sober.” Spencer told you. “And I’m thankful for that.”

That part surprised you.

At the time, you know you could have severely relapsed in your eating disorder.

The only reason you didn’t was because you found out that you were pregnant. Knowing that you had another human life to support, that your body wasn’t just your own - it pushed you to eat healthy, and allowed you the mental room to eat ‘treats’ when you wanted to. Nobody cares if a pregnant woman gets fatter, and that did make you feel safe, in a sense.

You knew that you didn’t want to date after Sebastian was born - you were focusing so much on him that you didn’t have too much room to be self conscious of your Mommy body. You exercised by lifting Sebastian and carrying him around. Later, you got plenty of exercise chasing him around when he could walk. You didn’t think too much about your diet, because you mostly just ate what he did, and made sure that he was eating healthy.

In a lot of ways, he saved you. Becoming a mother was the best thing that could have happened - for your mind, body, and soul.

“What I was doing… it was not the kind of coping mechanism I should have used.” Spencer spoke up again, distracting you from your own thoughts. “But knowing that I hurt you like that - knowing that I lost the best thing in my life… it made me realize that I was turning into someone I didn’t want to be. I was turning into this utterly horrible person, and I needed to change.”

“Spencer-” You choked out.

Hearing him describe himself as an ‘utterly horrible person’ did hurt.

“It’s okay.” He said softly.

“Can - can I ask what happened?” You whispered. “What made you turn to-? I mean… you left and then when you came back… you were so different.”

He knew what you were talking about.

He wasn’t even sure how he could put it into words for you.

A man in Georgia who had taken on the personality of his father in order to survive. Seven murders in the name of religion. A case that was supposed to be straightforward - a time where Spencer had nearly met God himself.

He had refused to tell you back then because he didn’t want to be seen as weak. He didn’t want to taint you with the details. He wanted to be comforted and coddled by you without you knowing why he needed that comfort.

After a moment of Spencer not speaking - standing there with distant horror in his eyes as it all replayed in his mind, you spoke again.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.” You said, reaching up and gently petting a hand down his arm. “You’ve done a lot of healing since then, and I know it’s in your past now.”

“Tobias Hankel.” He told you, confusing you slightly for a moment before he continued. “He - he was a man who killed seven people. It was a case in Georgia. It was supposed to be standard. We were called in to profile the murders, and actually - he was listed as a witness, and JJ and I went out to interview him. It was a really secluded area. And we got separated.” Spencer took in a breath, and you continued touching his arm, a gentle assurance that you were there, that it was okay. “And… he caught me off guard. He knocked me unconscious.”

Spencer didn’t feel the need to give you all the dirty details. How he had been shocked by Tobias speaking in the voice of his father, by the appearance of ‘both suspects’ in one body. How he had begged for mercy.

“And he took me to another location. And when I woke up… I had no clue where I was.” He said, this throat tightening up as the memories came flooding back to him.

“Oh baby, that must have been so scary.” You said, the word flying from your lips out of instinct as you moved your hand to his chest - instinctively trying to protect his heart with the whole of your palm.

Hearing it from your lips, so gentle, so soothing - baby.

Spencer felt like he was at home again. It was the last thing he needed to crack open that door - everything he had been holding back, every raw emotion - it came flooding out.

He blinked out tears, and you thought that it was terror resurfacing from that day.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay.” You told him, reaching up to wipe those tears away. “I’m here now.”

That’s all he had ever wanted. To be here with you. All he had ever needed.

“Thank you.” He said quietly.

“You don’t have to thank me.” You replied, your voice gentle.

“At the time - he drugged me.” Spencer continued the explanation - the one he so dutifully owed you. “That - that’s why.” He stuttered out. “When I came home… I couldn’t stop. It was the only thing numbing the pain. The only thing stopping me from… truly facing it all. From thinking about everything that had happened to me - processing it. I didn’t want to like it, but… it was the only thing that got me through when I was… when I felt like I was so close to death. I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t know how to exist without it at the time.”

Spencer took in a sharp breath.

“And when you left, I realized that I needed to stop - I needed to stop the drugs, or I was just gonna lose everything.”

“You are so strong.” You said, your own voice ripe with tears as you continued to hold Spencer’s face, holding both of his cheeks now, forcing his gaze toward you. Your eyes were burning passionate, every inch of the declaration intense and strong. “Spencer, you got through that and came home. I don’t know if I could have done what you did.”

“You could have.” He told you, entirely truthful. “You’ve been raising a child by yourself for four years. Never doubt how strong you are.”

He wanted to deflect - eager to stop talking about himself now. But he was doing it with compliments this time. He knew that he could never make it up to you, but he would never stop with the flattery. He would never stop trying.

“God, Spencer. I missed you so much.” You said, your throat clenching around the words. Then, before you could stop it:

“You know I never stopped loving you, right?”

He swore that his heart stopped in that moment.

“I - I don’t think I could have stopped loving you if I tried.” He replied, his tongue fat and dry in his mouth, having to swallow tightly after he spoke.

You used your hands on his cheeks to pull him toward you, then, and like the inevitability of the earth rounding the sun as the years passed - Spencer came home to you, sighing into your mouth as he felt your lips in that perfect, beautiful kiss. He finally felt that tightness ease in his chest - maybe it was a feeling he had been waiting to pass for years, his heart locked up and tight with that love for you strangling him from the inside, clawing to get out with you not around for him to truly love you the way he needed to. With his son somewhere out there in the world, waiting to be loved by him.

Your lips were so smooth and perfect against his - and it wasn’t long before that sweet love turned aching, insistent, and passionate.

Spencer put his hands on your hips and scooted you back up onto the counter. You let your body naturally shift with the movements, letting yourself slowly fall into the trust of being touched by him again. You let out a moan into his mouth and embraced his tongue past your lips, one of your hands moving to tangle into his now much wilder hair. You loved the feeling of his voice vibrating a moan against you as you gave his roots a gentle tug.

Heat surged through your body as he stepped between your now wide open knees, pressing himself right up against you where you were sitting on the counter - he needed to get closer. He needed to feel you. His crotch pressed tightly against yours - causing a stirring of heat and wetness in your underwear matching him as he was just beginning to get hard.

He had missed you so much. And it had been so long for both of you - you had barely looked at other people since the break-up, and having the touch of a lost loving stirred something in your bodies that made you both so hungry.

Spencer pulled away from your lips and began kissing down your neck, eager to suck and lick and kiss and consume as much of your skin as possible. When he came across the chain of the neck sitting on your skin, he gave it a loving lick and hummed into your skin, and you moaned his name into the air.

“Spence, oh!”

And then-

Then there was a crash from somewhere else in the house. The sound of glass breaking.

You hadn’t set the alarm - because typically that was something you did before going to bed.

Someone was breaking into the house.

The killer was coming for you.

“Spencer!” You said his name with more urgency now as his head whipped up from the crook of your neck, looking around for the danger, not yet moving from between your legs as he assessed the situation.

There was a crash from your office as something was knocked over. The sound of someone stumbling as they climbed in through the broken window.

He grabbed one of the nearby kitchen knives from the block, quickly realizing that his gun was his bag by the front door - too far to run for.

“Go upstairs, get Sebastian, take him in your room and lock the door.” He told you, his voice as authoritative as you had ever heard it. He took his cellphone from his pocket and thrust it into your shaking hand. “Call JJ or any contact in this phone labeled BAU. Call until they pick up and tell them that we need back up here. No matter what happens or what you hear, do not open the door for anybody. Got it?”

...

Keep reading here: Chapter Six - That's What You Get (Finale)

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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fredwkong · 5 months

Text

Dr. Li, Hypnotherapist

Austin couldn’t see any other solutions than booking a session with the hypnotherapist. He knew that he’d been moping for weeks, so when his friend finally snapped and told him to get some help, Austin had taken the referral and gotten on Dr. Li’s waiting list.

His thirtieth birthday a few years ago had been a bit of a wake-up call for Austin. Years of overwork and poor diet were slowly reversing as he took better care of his body, and for the first time, he felt proud of his looks. He knew he had a long way to go, but he was hoping to attain proper hunk status before he turned forty. He knew that he gave off the impression of being a clean-cut, intelligent guy with a pretty classic sense of style and, he hoped, a charming personality.

And yet, well, that hadn’t been enough to save his relationship.

Thankfully, the referral from his friend fast-tracked Austin up the waiting list, and a week or so later he scheduled his first appointment with Dr. Li and showed up at the low-key office just outside the financial district.

Sitting in the waiting room, listening to the burble of the little rock fountain in the corner, Austin found himself suddenly overwhelmed with second thoughts. He didn’t have real problems, after all. He was just being a baby about the breakdown of a 4-year relationship. Surely someone else could use this time better than him. Plus, what if he couldn’t do it? What if the hypnotherapy didn’t work for him? Dr. Li’s reviews were fantastic, but everyone underreported their failed clients.

Just as Austin was about to stand up and leave, the door of Dr. Li’s office opened to let out a cute young man with a blissful smile on his face. The guy blinked owlishly at Austin for a moment, his eyelids fluttering slightly, then he licked his lips lasciviously and drifted out the door.

A smooth, resonant, eminently masculine voice came from inside the office. “Forgive Terry,” it said, “he prefers to remain in trance for a few hours after our sessions. Please come in, Austin.”

Nervously, Austin stepped through the door to find a well-built Chinese man in a suit lounging in a comfortable armchair. Across from him in the office sat a long couch. It looked perfect for lying down on. The man, Dr. Li, had a few grey streaks at his temples, but still filled out his suit like a much younger man might. As Austin came in, he stood up, putting aside a small notebook that he had been writing in.

“Welcome to your first session, Austin,” said Dr. Li in that smooth, rich voice, giving him a firm handshake. “Please have a seat on the couch and make yourself comfortable. Would you like anything to drink?”

Once the two of them were settled—Austin took a glass of water, while Dr. Li refilled a thermos of herbal tea—the hypnotherapist continued, “My job is to help you achieve your full potential and free your deepest desires. To do that, I will most likely put you into a trance to unlock your unconscious wishes and help your brain make important changes. But first, let’s just have a conversation. Tell me about yourself, Austin. What brought you into my office today?”

With cues from Dr. Li, delivered in his calm, almost musical voice, Austin found the story spilled out easily. His attempts at self-improvement had been dismissed by his boyfriend, then actively sabotaged as his boyfriend worried that Austin improving might cause him to move on. Finally, Austin had kicked him out, and then gone into a spiral of self-hatred that resulted in his friend recommending Dr. Li’s unique methods for achieving goals and moving past trauma.

As the conversation continued, Austin found that he spoke less and less as Dr. Li spoke more, voicing gentle encouragement and affirmations that seemed to resonate inside Austin’s head, crowding out distractions and thoughts. Austin’s eyelids fluttered as a tingling feeling washed over his body. He just felt…so relaxed. He should just listen to Dr. Li’s voice and sink deeper into this sensation. He should lie down on the couch. He should…

Sleep.

…

Wake up.

Austin’s eyes blinked open. He felt calm, refreshed, alert. He felt better than he had in a long time. I looked over at Dr. Li, struggling to keep his eyes from falling closed.

“Very good, Austin,” said the hypnotist, his voice causing a tingle of pleasure through Austin’s body. “You’re a natural at this.”

“I…am?” Austin’s voice came out fuzzy, surprising him. He felt so awake, but he couldn’t seem to think through anything. He just had to trust Dr. Li.

“Yes, you’re a very good subject.” Austin felt another tingle of pleasure. It felt good to be praised. “You told me some of your unconscious desires, and I think you have a lot of potential for us to unlock together. But to do that, we have to get you into an even deeper trance.”

Austin drifted for a moment before he felt the response bubble to the top of his mind. “Okay.”

“Very good.” Another twinge. “In that case, it’s time to sleep.”

…

“Fully awake now.”

Austin came awake with a deep breath. He lay in the feeling for a moment, savouring the deep calm in his body. Looking at his watch, he could see that over an hour had passed, but his memories past the first few minutes were hazy. He knew that Dr. Li had taken good care of him and should always be trusted.

“How do you feel, Austin?” Dr. Li asked, writing in his notebook. Austin thought he could see a dark spot in the crotch of the hypnotist’s slacks, as if he had been precumming while Austin was under, but Dr. Li was trustworthy and would tell him what he needed to know.

“I feel good.” There was just one thing bothering him: he couldn’t seem to get comfortable in his polo shirt. He fidgeted, pulling at it, but then he realised: it felt good to show off. He unbuttoned the neck buttons to reveal the top of his hairy pecs and immediately felt better. “What did we talk about?”

“It was a wide-ranging conversation,” Dr. Li replied. “Of course, you know I will tell you anything important that happens while you are in trance.”

Austin nodded.

“We discussed some of your unconscious desires, and I began to implement a few triggers to help you unlock your true self. Would you like me to explain them to you?”

Austin thought about it. It didn’t seem too important to spend a long time talking about the specific triggers, since Dr. Li was so trustworthy. “Nah, I kind of want to be surprised,” he said.

“I thought you might be.” Dr. Li smiled, looking up from his notebook. “One of your unconscious desires is to be externally controlled while you’re along for the ride. I think that hypnotherapy will be a very good fit for you.”

Austin couldn’t help but agree. It felt good to have someone else at the wheel. There was something about listening to Dr. Li’s gentle, deep voice that made Austin certain that Dr. Li had his best interests at heart.

After scheduling weekly sessions with Dr. Li, Austin left the office and started driving home. But on the way, he had the sudden thought that he should go to the gym. Usually, he preferred morning workouts, but he figured that an afternoon session couldn’t hurt. However, he hadn’t thought to pack gym clothes when he headed out of the house earlier.

While Austin pondered what to do about his lack of gym clothes, he pulled into the parking lot of his gym. As he engaged the parking brake, he turned to see a set of neatly folded gym clothes, and a new pair of runners, sitting in the passenger seat. The instant he looked at them, he suddenly remembered Dr. Li handing him the clothes while he was entranced. He had carried them out to the car and placed them neatly in the passenger seat without even realising what he was doing.

He felt his cock starting to harden in his boxers. Being unaware of his actions was hot. Going to the gym was probably something Dr. Li had told him to do, as well. Austin grabbed the clothes and jumped out of his car, pumped to get into the gym.

In the locker room, though, he felt momentarily confused. Usually, he wore knee-length shorts and a loose T-shirt in the gym, but the clothes Dr. Li had given him were a pair of short-shorts and a tight-fitting tank top that stretched over his thick torso. He felt a bit self-conscious looking in the mirror, but then he remembered it felt good to show off. The judgment of the skinny bros at the gym didn’t matter, because he was going to show off just for him.

The workout felt incredibly good. Austin was totally focussed on lifting while he was in the weight room. No other thoughts entered his head except for setting up his next workout and getting his form perfect. He even jumped on the elliptical, because good cardio is just as important as a good pump. After a couple of hours went by in a blur, Austin found himself walking out the gym’s front door, pumped, sweaty, and full of a pleasurable thrilled sensation.

Later that night, Austin was maintaining his Animal Crossing island when he was overcome with a need to email Dr. Li. Putting the game aside, Austin grabbed his phone and composed an email:

Doctor, I had a great workout today. I got a good baseline knowledge of my strength and endurance for my future sessions. Thank you very much for the new clothes, it felt good to show off my body in more revealing clothes. Austin

Sending the email, Austin watched the screen for a minute without moving until he heard the ping of an incoming email with Dr. Li’s reply:

Good boy.

Austin’s eyes rolled back as he felt a wave of pleasure through his whole body. It felt good to be praised.

For the next week, Austin went to the gym almost every day before work. Without his conscious control, his body implemented a push/pull/legs split, and after three days in the gym, he would find himself without the urge to work out for a day. Instead, he went shopping for new gym clothes because it felt good to show off and his old clothes just didn’t show off his body as much as he wanted. While he was out, he also bought a few new button-up shirts that he thought would show off his chest.

Each night, Austin emailed Dr. Li in the same thread and received a short reply from the hypnotist. Usually, it was some variation of “Good boy,” which made Austin feel wonderful because of how good it felt to be praised. Austin remarked in one email that he had gone out with friends and had two portions at dessert before going out to drink, which he felt badly about. Dr. Li replied, “Do you want to talk about cravings and portion control at our next session?” Austin thought about it, but he trusted Dr. Li to have his best interests at heart, so he replied, “Yes.”

Dr Li’s answer to that was, “Good boy.”

Finally, Austin’s next hypnotherapy session arrived. As he sat down on the couch, he could already feel the urge to fall into a trance again. It would be so easy to follow Dr. Li’s commands and sleep.

…

Wake up.

This time, Austin had no memory of time passing while he was entranced. He was lying on the couch again, and Dr. Li smiled at him as he sat up. “That was a very good session, Austin,” he said, his smooth voice strangely rough. “You fell into trance almost before you sat down.”

Austin nodded. “I was really excited to be hypnotised again, Doctor,” he said. The word “doctor” felt strange on his tongue for some reason. It was Dr. Li’s title, but Dr. Li deserved Austin’s complete respect at all times, and “doctor” just wasn’t enough.

Dr. Li smiled, seemingly at Austin’s discomfort, but that couldn’t be true, because Dr. Li had Austin’s best interests at heart. “You noticed some significant lifestyle changes last week, and you will probably continue to find things changing this week.”

“Yeah, I’m really excited,” Austin paused, feeling a word on the tip of his tongue, and then said, “Sir.” That felt right. When he called Dr. Li “Sir,” Austin felt that tingle of pleasure in his body, the knowledge that he had done something correctly.

Dr. Li’s smile widened. “Good boy,” he said in a low voice.

Austin shuddered. It felt good to be praised. “Thank you, Sir.”

In the waiting room, Austin nodded to another one of Dr. Li’s clients, a sullen young guy in a tracksuit who slouched into the hypnotherapist’s office. As they passed each other, Austin watched the guy’s face slacken, falling into trance before he passed the threshold of the office.

Austin went to the workout he felt the need to complete, but when he sat back down in his car, winded, sweaty and red-faced in his compression gear from a hard sprint at the end of his run, he still felt the need to run another errand. After a moment, the thought came to him: he had to go get his food prep at the grocery store. Feeling pleased that Dr. Li had responded to his concerns about his eating habits, Austin pulled out of the parking lot.

Usually, Austin had trouble resisting the allure of buying a fresh muffin or some other sweets while he was grocery shopping, but today the thought of sugary food repelled him. Instead, he found himself drawn to the spice aisle, where he grabbed soy sauce and a selection of various spices he’d never tried before. His mouth watered at the thought of all the vegetables and lean meat he’d be seasoning for his meal prep.

While meal prepping that night, Austin slowly came to the realisation that Dr. Li had apparently replaced Austin’s sweet tooth with a craving for intense spices. The aroma of his cooking had him choking slightly, but he was excited to get used to his new diet. And instead of craving a beer after dinner, Austin found himself sitting down on the couch with Pornhub loaded and an insistent erection in his new yoga pants. Getting off was the best way to get over his breakup, he thought, and started to browse.

While he was watching a video of a jock getting dropped into trance by the school psychologist, Austin realised that he needed to email Dr. Li. Still jacking off with one hand, he grabbed his phone off the coffee table and typed one-handed:

Sir, My workout went well. I hit a new deadlift PR. I’m going to measure myself tomorrow to update you on the size of my muscles. Grocery shopping and meal prep went very well, and I appreciate my new substitute cravings. Austin

When Dr. Li replied, “Very good, you’re making great progress,” Austin came hard. It felt so good to be praised.

Over the next months, Austin’s life continued to get better and better with Dr. Li’s help. Every time he slept and woke up, Austin felt like he was becoming more and more the person he was always meant to be. He was making great progress at the gym and improving his body composition, he loved to show off, and he felt more able to have fun with his friends than ever before.

One night, about a month into working with Dr. Li, Austin was feeling really good about his body. Almost his whole wardrobe had been replaced, his old gym clothes with shorter cuts and compression fabrics, and his work clothes with tailored pieces that hugged his growing body. Halfway through his evening jerk, all Austin could think about was how much he wanted people to see his sexy body. He ripped open his shirt and took a picture looking up his furry abs to his big pecs. He was so happy he’d decided to stop shaving.

He included it in his email to Dr. Li. His body was at least half the result of Dr. Li’s incredible hypnotherapy, so he figured the Doctor deserved to see the fruits of his labour.

It was only when Dr. Li replied, “Are you thinking of posting that online? I think it might be a good idea,” that Austin realised just how much he wanted people to see his sexy body. He stayed up a little late to set up several accounts on different sites where he could show off.

A few days later, Austin’s ex messaged him, but Austin blocked him. Before starting with Dr. Li, he would have been overjoyed to hear from the guy again, but he was too good to be the property of just one man. Most days that he worked out, Austin brought home a guy from the gym to help him satisfy his need to get off. On off days, he might have a few friends over, especially the guy who had referred him to Dr. Li.

Sleep.

…

Wake up.

Austin was a bit surprised when he woke up in a moving car. He was really good at going into trance these days. When he went for his sessions with Dr. Li, he would go into trance while sitting in the waiting room and not wake up until halfway through his workout afterward.

He was sitting in the middle aisle of a minivan. In the seat beside him was his friend, Dr. Li’s other client, while in the back seat sat Terry, the cute twink from Austin’s first session, the sullen guy who had his sessions after Austin’s, and some huge bodybuilder guy in a stringer tank, probably another client.

Dr. Li turned around from his seat in the front. Beside him in the driver’s seat was a big, muscular man. “Good afternoon, boys,” he said, his smooth voice washing over all of them like a wave. “Thank you for agreeing to accompany me today.”

That was right, Austin thought. He would do whatever Dr. Li requested. It didn’t matter if he didn’t remember, Dr. Li wouldn’t have done anything without confirming that Austin wanted to do it.

The van pulled up and parked somewhere. Looking out the window, Austin could see they were in a different city. A few men walked past the van, all in various states of undress, most of them wearing some kind of gear. Austin knew that he wanted people to see his sexy body, because it felt good to show off, but he wasn’t really much of a gearhead. Why should he cover up his body with something like leather when he could just undress and show off his hairy muscles?

Dr. Li looked around at all of them. The driver, too, seemed to be in a light trance now that he had stopped driving. The hypnotist smiled at them. “Well, are you ready, kinky boys?”

Leather Boy Austin shook his head, his last thoughts slipping away. They couldn’t have been very important. Stepping out of the van, he pawed at his fitted shirt. It was soft linen, not nice, solid, warm leather, and he couldn’t stand the feel of it against his skin. He efficiently stripped out of it, nodding to Dr. Li when the doctor passed him his pink leather chaps. It was too bad that a leather boy like him couldn’t wear it all the time. He just didn’t feel right when his furry muscle bod wasn’t coated in sexy leather gear.

As he sternly put on his gear, getting more and more into the leather boy mindset, Austin watched his rubber boy friend and the sullen sneaker boy get into their gear. The twinky pup boy Terry was yapping at the bodybuilder poser boy. Next to the van, Dr. Li was helping the husky pain boy put on his nipple clamps.

When they were all properly undressed, Leather Boy Austin helped Dr. Li herd the other kinky boys out into the street for the festival. The rest dispersed quickly, but Austin kept close to the hypnotist.

“I’m very glad to have you, Austin,” Dr. Li said, his voice once again resonating through Austin’s mind as they walked. “You were desperately in need of freedom from your own inhibitions when you first came to me. It took many sessions before you started to really blossom into the powerful young man I see before me.”

Leather Boy Austin puffed up his chest with pride at how good it felt to be praised. He was too stoic to respond effusively, but he grunted, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Oh, no need for formality between us now, Austin.” Dr. Li grabbed Austin by the elbow and jerked him around. Austin followed, because Dr. Li always knew what was best for Austin. “In fact, I think it’s time that I properly set you free.” The doctor grabbed Austin’s chin and roughly kissed him.

The kiss triggered all of Austin’s latent memories. He suddenly recalled all the hours of trance with Dr. Li, the careful programming of all his fitness habits, the thought patterns to make him show off and trust his hypnotist. He remembered how Dr. Li had installed the trigger to make him a kinky Leather Boy, but he could also knew that he could be triggered to be a flirty Dumb Boy, and a musky Ass Boy, whenever Dr. Li called him a flirty boy or a musky boy. He could taste the flavour of Dr. Li’s asshole on his tongue, from all the times that he had eaten him out while his triggers were implanted.

Most of all, he remembered loving every second of working with his hypnotist. Like Dr. Li had said at their first session, Austin wanted someone else to be in charge of him. It felt so good to be unknowingly under Dr. Li’s complete control, because he knew Dr. Li would take good care of him.

The sensation of his memories flooding back was so intensely erotic that Austin came into his leather chaps. He bucked into the kiss, tensing his muscles as his body was wracked with pleasure. Dr. Li held firmly onto his jerking body, and a few onlookers whooped and clapped. It felt so good to show off. Austin couldn’t believe that that thought had been implanted so deeply by the hypnotist in their very first session. The thought almost made him cum again.

Dr. Li pulled back from the kiss, and Austin felt two paths open in front of him. He remembered this session, too. These triggers were his own to think, just for himself. He could choose to remember all of the sessions, and he would remain lucid while under hypnosis in the future. He and Dr. Li would be equals from now on. On the other hand, he could lock all the memories away and go back to being unaware of the extent of Dr. Li’s influence over his mind, how the doctor could completely change his personality with a few words.

It was an easy decision.

Leather Boy Austin wasn’t sure how he had cum from a simple kiss from Dr. Li. He could recall that the kiss had been mind-blowing, but what he had been thinking about while they had kissed was hazy. Hopefully, the orgasm wouldn’t affect his performance at the orgy later.

“Thank you, Sir,” Leather Boy Austin grunted, smoothing his mussed hair back into place.

Dr. Li grinned at him in that slightly unsettling way of his. “You are a very good subject, Austin,” he murmured.

It felt good to be praised, Austin thought, shuddering with pleasure.

#male transformation #mental change #male tf #dumber tf #hypno tf #male hypnosis #gay hypnosis #leather tf #all fwkong

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frenchkisstheabyss · 13 days

Text

⛧ 𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 ⛧

⛧ Pairing: poly!slasher!minsung x chubby!fem!reader

⛧ Genre: slasher au/horror/fluff/angst

⛧ Summary: It's Halloween 1996, you've just broken up with your toxic ex, and there's a killer on the loose. When you go to the local video store to find your next distraction, you run into your longtime crushes who have their hearts set on looking after you. But you must be careful. Not everyone's who they appear to be.

⛧ Word Count: 2.1k

⛧ Warnings: brief discussion of murder, implied possessive ex, intro to knife play if you squint, suggestive, psycho Minsung, you probably have a killer fetish, & that's all my loves. It's otherwise quite fluffy tbh.

⛧ A/N: I'm starting this series as my love letter to 90's slasher films aaaand because I just love Minsung. I'm writing this in "tapes" instead of chapters for ✨ ambiance ✨ so I hope the vibes come across. I'm already working on part two so I'll have my knives and fingers crossed you babes enjoy this one.

💀 >>> Go to Tape 2 >>> 💀

A bell dings overhead as you step through the door of Topline Video. A crowd of middle school kids dart by, nearly knocking you over in their excitement to get home with some cheesy slasher flick they definitely shouldn’t be watching. All are in full costume, wearing the kind of plastic masks that smell sorta funny when you put them on.

The kid dressed as a goblin turns back for a second, peeling up the murky green mask to reveal an apologetic face. “Sorry, lady!” he shouts, taking your gentle smile as a sign of forgiveness and racing to catch up to his friends. “Lady?” you whisper to yourself, the door creaking shut behind you, “Great, now I feel ancient.”

Lucky for you there’s no time for an existential crisis as you’re swept into the frenzy of the video store. The walls are packed with what must be a thousand VHS tapes. Double sided displays line the aisles with hundreds more. Every one of them is some brand of horror movie with even the most obscure subgenre present.

Black and orange streamers travel from one end of the ceiling to the next with tiny spiders dangling from them. Giant skeletons lurk in the corners guarding jack o lanterns with flickering eyes. Every year people eat it up but this year is particularly spooky. It sends a shiver down your spine when you recall why.

“I heard they found another leg” a red haired girl says, casually smacking on a piece of bright pink bubblegum. Beside her a shorter girl files through tapes under a large bloody hand drawn sign reading SERIAL KILLERS.

“I thought they already found both of his legs. A guy can’t have three legs.”

The red haired girl shakes her head, smiling mischievously. “That is not true. I hooked up with him once. You could for sure consider that thing a third leg.” The girls break into a fit of giggles. Dodging their insensitivity, you squeeze yourself into the Monster Movie section.

“Hey Drac” you sigh, staring up at the Dracula cutout looming over you, “I live in a town of idiots.” “You don’t mean everyone, do you?” a voice answers back with the worst Dracula impersonation you’ve ever heard. Suspicious that it isn’t coming from the cardboard cutout, you peek around to see a familiar face stocking the shelves.

Your heart immediately begins to flutter, a blanket of warmth encompassing you. Han Jisung. If you flip through the dictionary you’ll find him under D for dreamy. The glow of the setting sun kisses his dark curly hair, making it almost sparkle. And those brown eyes, they’re so…no…keep it together.

“That’s a terrible Dracula voice” you tease, arms folded across your chest. “I don’t know what you mean. Bleh, bleh, bleh” he carries on, pretending to bare his fangs. Now it’s you who’s giggling and you can’t stand how easily he gets you to.

“You are such a dork, Han.”

Returning to his normal voice he only shrugs, “But that’s why you’re so insanely in love with me isn’t it?”

His words intensify the heat moistening your palms. Fidgeting with the sleeves of your jean jacket, you wrack your brain for some witty response only for nonsense to tumble out.

“No. What? I…uh…um…early.”

Popping a copy of Megaverse Massacre 2 onto the shelf, Han raises an eyebrow at you, “Early?”

Your brain finally catches up to your mouth and you spit it out. “Uh, yeah, early. I heard you guys were closing early because of the…”

“Body hacking psycho killer?” a voice cackles, gripping your shoulders from behind. You let out a blood curdling scream that draws the attention of a few nearby shoppers. Swinging around, your fist ready to dish out a debilitating gut punch, you come face to face with Lee Minho. You haven’t quite decided if he can be filed under “dreamy” or “asshole” yet.

Minho grins, never finding you cuter than when he’s getting on your nerves. “I’m sorry, babe. Didn’t hurt you did I?” he teases, straightening out your clothes with a gentleness you weren’t expecting. The sun’s doing that thing again. The sparkle. The glow. The radiant brown eyes searching yours, threatening to make you fall even deeper into them than you already have.

Han dips between the two of you, separating you before you rip Minho’s head off. “I’m sorry. Really. He was deprived of air in the womb. Being an asshole’s just a side effect.”

Over Han’s shoulder Minho frowns, “Hey! Rude much?” Digging into his pocket, Han pulls out a lollipop. It’s sugar blown into the shape of a blood drenched kitchen knife. “Are you bribing me with a sugary murder weapon?” you ask, staring at it skeptically. Han flashes you a close lipped smile, his cheeks so fluffy it’d be a crime to deny him.

Snatching the lollipop you waste no time popping the wrapper off and tapping Minho on the head with it. “Hey! What was that for?” he winces, wiping lollipop residue from his head. “Sorry, babe” you grin, sucking on your tool of revenge, “Didn’t hurt you did I?” Han buries his face in his hand but it does nothing to hide the joy he takes in his best friend’s pain.

This is nice. Laughing with someone. With them. It’s been a while since you felt this light around other people. The recent weight on you hasn’t been of some invisible boogeyman sneaking off with one of your limbs. No, your boogeyman was someone you knew well, or at least thought you did, and he’s haunted you every chance he can.

Speak of the devil…

A bell dings, drawing your attention to the door where a man in a demon mask scans the room for someone. You recognize him immediately. Those boots. Those pants. That flannel shirt you always found totally hideous on him. Your heart sinks, the lollipop in your hand tumbling to the floor.

You see Minho and Han’s hearts sink too. It’s as if they sense that any joy you’d been feeling just went down the drain that instant. Minho whispers something into Han’s ear. You can’t make out what, only the calculated tone of his voice. “Hey!” Han says, perking up again, “We’re having a movie night tonight. You should come.”

As the man in the demon mask spots you, your eyes dart back and forth between the men. “A movie night? Sure that would be…I’d like that.”

Han takes you by the hand, “Wicked. Come on, you can pick a movie from the back.” He leads you towards the backroom just as the man advances towards you. Peeking over your shoulder you spot Minho blocking his way. A quick left turn stops you from seeing what happens next, filling your vision instead with tattered old movie posters.

Passing a few of Han’s coworkers, you wave politely and they smile in return. The back room’s like a dustier, quieter version of the sales floor. The walls are still lined with tapes, only there’s no way these have been watched any time in the past decade. Through the dust you see the spine of a tape titled Camp Counselor Sleepover Murder Party 4.

“That one” you decide, stopping dead in your tracks.

Han stops too, squinting to spot what caught your eye, “A woman of taste I see.”

Pulling it from the shelf, he blows the dust away and hands it to you. “Only the finest for you.”

You feel that lightness again. It's easy to feel it when he smiles at you like this. Such an unexpected but welcomed sense of safety. “Han, thanks for…” you start but the surprise sensation of his lips pressed to yours makes anything you were about to say feel insignificant.

With one hand still holding yours, his other hand comes to rest on your lower back. Your lips are somehow softer than he’d imagined. Even in the absence of the lingering strawberry flavored lollipop, he knows they’d taste just as sweet. Minho’s gonna kill him when he finds out that he kissed you first but nothing could be more worth it.

“Thank me by not worrying about your ex,” he says, “He won’t bother you anymore. I promise.”

You want to tell him how much he doesn’t understand. That your ex doesn’t give up that easily. But you decide not to ruin the moment, even if letting yourself believe him feels delusional. “Jisung, we need you up front!” one of his coworkers shouts back. He hesitates, unsure if he should leave you or not.

You kiss him first this time, turning him loose, “Go. I’ll be fine back here. Camp Counselor Sleepover Murder Party 1-3 have gotta be rotting around here somewhere right?” One last kiss and he’s rushing back up front, clueless as to how he’s supposed to focus on anything else now.

Turning back to the shelf you realize how big of a challenge you’re in for. Maybe there’s a feather duster somewhere? Or a respirator mask?

“Give it here. That has to be wrong.” Minho approaches the kitchen counter where you sit, playfully swinging your feet. He reaches for the magazine in your hand but you clutch it tightly to your chest, refusing to fork it over.

“Live with it, Minho. You are Suspicious Boyfriend.”

“Suspicious boyfriend” Han sings, retrieving a bag of freshly popped popcorn from the microwave, “I think it has a ring to it.”

Hopping down from the counter, you skip your way over to Han extending the magazine and the pen in your hand out to him. “Your turn, Hannie.” You see the skepticism all over his face but don’t give up. All torture must be equal after all.

“I’ll take that” Minho smiles, stealing the popcorn for himself.

“Sure. Why not?” Han surrenders, grabbing the magazine and the pen. You and Minho watch on, far more amused than you should be, as Han skims the pages checking off answers to silly personality questions. Pick a country to travel to. Pick a favorite food. Upstairs or downstairs?

After a minute or two he finishes and slides the magazine back over to you. You can barely contain yourself as you assess his results. Leaning across the counter, you share them with Minho who immediately begins to laugh.

“What’s so funny? What did I get?” Han asks looking so genuinely concerned that you almost feel bad for telling Minho first. Minho empties the popcorn into a bright orange Halloween bowl, shoveling some into his mouth. “Comic Relief Best Friend” he mumbles. Han frowns, coming to see for himself. You hold the results page up for him.

Which Horror Character Are You?

You point to his score beneath the headline “Comic Relief Best Friend”.

“Oh, okay. So I’m funny and I die before him. Perfect.”

“Aww, come on. Don’t be like that” you say, poking at his chin, “It’s not like I got the best result either. I’m the Final Girl.”

“What’s so bad about that?” Minho asks, his words muffled by food, “It means you make it to the sequel.”

“No, it means that I’m boring. Badass but boring. I wanna be the killer. They have more fun.”

Han shakes his head, a sympathetic hand resting on your shoulder, “I hate to break it to you but you’re not really killer material.” Minho takes your hand like a doctor prepared to give you some bad news, “Yeah, you just…you don’t have it in you, kid.”

“Don’t have it in me? I do so!” you protest, your tantrum not doing much to make you less adorable. Minho moves toward the knife rack behind him, carefully selecting the biggest, sleekest one he can find. “Okay, so kill me.”

There’s a long, tense silence.

“Come on. It’s not that hard. Just…” Minho mimes stabbing himself in the chest, his tongue stuck out sideways. “Give it!” you shout, running to take the knife away. Minho catches you by the wrist, slipping the knife into your hand and raising the tip of the blade an inch away from his throat.

“Do it” he dares, his hand tightening around yours, “Prove us wrong.”

There’s an unnerving excitement in his eyes as he awaits your decision. An excitement that doesn’t seem to want you to back away. No, it wants you to come closer. He wants you to come closer.

“Hannie,” you plead, “Can you talk some sense into him please?” Han joins the two of you, saying nothing at first, simply observing. The way that they watch you is intensely sexual and some part of you, one you hadn’t known existed until now, seems to take pleasure in it.

Han laughs, bringing his arms around your waist, “Oh but sweetie, we’ve played your game. Don’t you wanna play ours now?”

#stray kids au #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #han jisung x female reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #chubby reader #minho x reader #minho x you #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #plus size reader

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ironunderstands · 2 months

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2.1 was so good holy shit (spoilers, obviously)

GOD THEY ATE AND IM SPECIFICALLY GONNA TALK ABOUT HOW WELL THEY WROTE RATIO IN THIS BECAUSE IM FOAMING AT THE GODDAMN MOUTH IT CHANGES HOW YOU VIEW EVERYTHING BUT IN A GOOD WAY.

so, let’s start from the beginning in 2.0 I want to walk you through my experience of it

ratio mean to aventurine, everyone gets mad. I feel weird about it, pre-2.1 I come to the conclusion that he got used as a plot device in that scene, since being racist contradicts his core motivations and the dialogue is awkward and has no real reason behind it, I chalk it up to bad writing but ultimately forgive it because 2.1 seems centered around Aventurine so they need setup for that

2.1 drops, my bsf plays the update throughout the night and we are losing our shit. He gets to the part where Ratio “betrays” Aventurine. I fucking lose it, I try to reconcile this with my preconceived notions of ratio, they don’t match up at all, his behavior that whole time doesn’t in the slightest. I am confused, I wonder if I have been wrong about him this whole time, if his whole speech on the Space Station and his character quests were some kind of fluke. I mean it could be in character? Knowledge of how a stellaron works could save millions if not billions of lives, invaluable information which Ratio would have trouble turning down because of its value. It still feels deeply wrong, Ratio isnt a backstabber, and he wouldn’t so easily bargain with Sunday over information he has no confirmation of (and could likely obtain in some other way).

The story continues, me and Haseeb (aforementioned best friend) are still pissed, I’m losing it because my favorite character just did something so unforgivable and out of character and I feel like a complete and utter idiot for interpreting a character to be a good person when they so clearly weren’t. Well, I (luckily) was so so so so so so so wrong about that, as it was all a setup, a plan devised by Aventurine to distract Sunday and forward their goals. I’ve never been happier, and suddenly every weird behavior, every “this doesn’t make sense” goes from “bad writing” to perhaps one of my favorite retroactive twists in fiction.

Ratio belittling Aventurine for his background doesn’t make any sense, I mean we literally saw the guy give a whole ass speech about how he believes all people deserve access to knowledge and that everyone is capable of being creative and having intellect, but that they just have to try for it, and if they are incapable of it, he DOCTOR Ratio is there to lend a helping hand. To cure the galaxy of stupidity, something which he views as not the lack of knowledge but rather the misuse and misinterpretation of it, how he depises the Genius Society because they mostly do not try and use their intellect from the betterment of other, and actively guide/encourage other scientists (and in Hertas case the researchers at the space station) to view knowledge as some sort of prize or commodity rather than tool. This notion is what causes Screwellum to acknowledge that Ratio is more like a medical doctor than a scholar. And this notion is something Sunday Isn’t Aware Of.

Sunday doesn’t know who Ratio really is, he may have heard of his various exploits, but Ratio has a reputation for arrogance, bluntness and insensitivity, something which Ratio plays up to the nines. The 2.0 scene with Aventurine goes from seemingly massively OOC for Ratio to him actively playing up his negative reputation to play into Sundays perceptions of the pair for their plan. Ratio->

a) makes it seem like Aventurine fucked up and he’s mad at him for losing the cornerstones, something which Sunday would see and go “hmm they don’t like each other

b) this “oh I can drive a wedge between them” notion gets worse (although in their case better) when Ratio brings up Aventurine’s (not entirely accurate) background. Sunday now thinks he has leverage over Aventurine and even more of a chance of getting Ratio to betray him. Ratio also makes it seem like he just learned this information by stating he “did his homework” and this supposed unfamiliarity with one another would give Sunday more confidence to try and drive a wedge between them

c) this makes it seem like the IPC are unaware of the Families constant surveillance, as it looks like they are having an important conversation in a private room, which would make Sunday think they are unaware of his eyes and ears everywhere

Now let me qualify this notion with more evidence because you could still try and argue that the deal Ratio and Aventurine struck was post 2.0 argument

Topaz (my glorious Queen). At the end of the 1.4 (or was it 1.5?) Belabog quest she has a conversation with Aventurine in which he requests for her help in Penacony, and we do not get a confirmation on if she said yes or not. Until 2.1, in which the the Topaz (and Jade) stone in in Aventurines possession, meaning she took him up on that offer prior to 2.0 because how else would he bring multiple cornerstones there, which we know there are many because Ratio says he lost the cornerstones, not just his own. Topaz would not give this item up easily or on a whim in between 2.0 and 2.1, meaning she would have to be let in on his plan prior, meaning the plan was formed prior. Since Ratio was also assigned to this mission keeping him in the dark would make negative sense and actively undermine their collaboration, something which he brings up in their fake argument

2. The Final Victory Lightcone. I originally thought this scene to be after their argument for complicated reasons, the most important of which being the minor snippet of conversation we see between Ratio and Aventurine during the first time we meet Acheron. Aventurine mentions 3 chips, Ratio doubts him, and the lightcone description starts with Aventurine questioning his doubt and firing three shots, a perfect correlation that made me place the order of events in that way. However, we get to see the snippet of conversation between Aventurine and Ratio in game, right before they meet Sunday, not prior to the lightcone events. However, they are still clearly connected for aforementioned reasons, just in a different manner, let me explain. Now we know the three chips reference not bullets but the three cornerstones, and Ratio openly expresses his doubt because the family is always watching (something which I will get into) and because a part of him does doubt this plan will go well. However, Aventurine prior reminds him of the events of the lightcone with the three chips. My interpretation is that Aventurine took that gamble in the lightcone to convince Ratio to go along with his crazy plan since if he can win a game of Russian Roulette with an unwavering smile on his face he an insane gamble means nothing to him (ratio doesn’t buy it because it’s ratio but the sheer audacity or you could say the “charming audacity” makes him go along with it). In my opinion this scene only makes sense pre-penacony, due to the timeline of events, which is why I believe it the reason for the events in it has to be Aventurine trying to convince Ratio to join in.

3) The family is always watching. During the 2.1 story quest it gets brought up several times in many different ways that it seems like the family has eyes on everything and everyone. Sunday’s fuckass bird is everywhere, and the man himself (minus being a goddamn biblically accurate angel) is covered in eye shaped shit and possesses close ties with the Harmony, which lends itself well to a character that knows things considering the Aeon itself is a conglomeration of many different perspectives. He fucking perception checks Aventurine, when the crew goes to look for info on firefly they learn the dream pools monitor people’s vitals and everything, even producing a dialogue option where the trailblazer states they feel like their every move is being watched. Topaz gets stalked by bloodhound members upon arrival, I could go on. TLDR Sunday knows almost everything that’s going on in Penacony, this is what leads him to believe the traitor is within the family, and his access to knowledge is something the IPC 100% knows about. I mean they have been presumably attempting to try and get it back for a while, and they would reasonably extensively try and learn everything about it. The Family notoriously hates negotiating with them so the IPC either learning and/or coming to the conclusion that the Family is watching their every move isn’t a ridiculous notion. If this conversation was genuine, if Ratio truly wanted to discuss this matter with Aventurine, why would he do it in a likely wiretapped, not very soundproof room where any passerby could hear Ratio loudly exclaim that Aventurine lost the very important cornerstones and that he is also one of the most despised groups in the galaxy because that would really do numbers for both their reputations. If you think about it, this not being staged is an incredibly stupid blunder on Ratio’s end (minus the deliberate OOCness) because of all the places Ratio could set up a very important meeting he does it in one of the worst places ever.

4) The dialogue in the scene. It’s awkward, it’s so awkward and the whole “also my family died I didn’t get an education” seemed so tacked on the first time I watched it. Knowing now, it seemed so tacked on because it was, Aventurine had to shove the info in there somewhere and their incredible conversational skills decided that was the best part in there. Ratio fucking leaving before Aventurine is even done talking goes from a “huh weird” to a “wow he is really playing up this arrogant scholar role”. And if Ratio is playing the arrogant scholar, Aventurine is playing the dumb, helpless, blonde to a T. Losing the cornerstones and acting nonchalant about it, letting Ratio insult him so callously and letting the insults slide, talking absolute nonsense at the end about random things that don’t matter, sadly lamenting into the distance that he’s alone again. Bro is playing it up and I live for it. They also and play up these personas in their little adventure prior to meeting Sunday, Aventurine asks stupid questions like wondering about the species of the bird that make up the statues and talking about how he wants to play in the sandpit and even insulting Sunday a bit, behavior that would make Sunday think him unprepared and unserious rather than cold and calculating. If Aventurine does that well, Ratio plays up his arrogant, uncaring scholar persona to the nines. He insults any and every decision or thing Aventurine does, loudly sighing of how happy he is to finally have some peace and quiet when Aventurine leaves his sight for 0.00008 milleseconds, pointing out his sarcasm, beefing with a random Pepeshi bodyguard no reason, pointing out his sarcasm, just the exaggerated way he talks in general, and suggesting he admit Aventurine into the Genius Society (even Ratio wouldn’t stoop so low as to suggest Aventurine was worthy of that).

Moreover, this is really, really tragic because I do think there are several moments of genuine banter and fun the two share “Ratio, you’re huge!” was not added to the script to enhance the plot guys. And obviously Aventurine knows most of Ratios behavior is acting, however he has such severe trust issues, and Ratio is so damn straightforward and blunt that he worries the man was serious about some of it which just breaks my heart. Soft Ratio please add it give me one conversation, the note at the end of 2.1 doesn’t count it’s too short.

Ultimately, knowing what I know now I can’t help but view the 2.0 conversation with Aventurine as being anything but staged, it simply makes no sense otherwise, and it happily obsolescent Ratio of his sins. This was a bit incoherent I honestly just wanted to rant (if you couldn’t tell haha) but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. I need sincere Ratio more then I need oxygen and I’m not afraid to say it.

#honkai star rail #hsr spoilers #aventurine #dr ratio #aventio #i love 2.1

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squirmhoney · 2 months

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idk if this counts but aegon being jealous of you talking with another guy and getting all possessive is actually so hot?? like he’s containing all his frustration until you get to the bedroom and then he’s relentless and making sure you know that you belong to him (if that makes sense??) can be canon or modern whatever you prefer (love all your writing)

Warnings: Heavy on the dubcon. Smut. Fingering. Ass slapping. Dacryphilia. Super possesive and mean Aegon. 18+ A/N: I really wanted to go into more detail here and I feel like it isn't as good as it can because I didn't. I just have quite a few requests now but I loved this idea and I love you for sending it in❤️

Aegon didn’t care that he had no right to be jealous, in fact he didn’t believe it.

He may be married to another with his own children but you belonged to him. You had belonged to him since you were children, ever since you told him you loved him at the age of one and three, you had handed every right of your own life to him.

To see you even entertaining the prospects of husbands in what would one day be his court was disgraceful in his eyes.

But Aegon wasn’t going to make it obvious to his family or the ladies and lords of court around him.

No, he needed to be calculated in his next moves.

Patience was something Aegon had always lacked. But with you, he knew it was all about timing.

So he waited, watching you prance around in your fine green silks. He counted every smile you gave away, every nod of your head and every single time your skin touched another’s.

It wasn’t till you were laid out over his lap in your room would he even realise why he had begun counting. It was only when his hand came across your ass for the first time that night did it click in his head.

For every traitorous act you had displayed to him that night, he repaid with a harsh slap against your skin. Till your skin was a raw red and your cheeks were stained from your pathetic tears as you pleaded with him to stop.

“Stop crying,” Aegon demanded, hand rubbing against the sensitive flesh. “You only did this to yourself.”

“I-I’m sor-sorry,” you sobbed, trying to look back at him. “Aegon, please.”

But Aegon couldn’t bear to look at you, knowing he would soften the moment he looked into those wet eyes. You had an effect on him like no other and he couldn’t crumble and forgive you just yet. Not when you had hurt him so.

He distracted himself by prying your thighs apart, his hand diving between your cheeks until he was met with your wet folds.

“You’re crying like this, begging me to stop but you’re dripping down here,” Aegon chuckled darkly, finger sliding the wetness across your cunt. “Unless you were already wet before I found you?”

The thought crossed his mind, a sickening feeling growing in his stomach as he tensed underneath you.

You sensed it so easily, speaking before you even knew what you were truly trying to say.

“No,” You screeched, shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t.”

His eyes met yours then, locking with yours as he searched for any sign of a lie.

“I swear it,” you hiccuped, taking a shaky breath. “It’s only for you.”

His curious fingers moved on their own accord, forcing them into your walls with a sharp hiss from your lips.

It was always a stretch to take his thick fingers but today he wasn’t giving you time to adjust, pushing three fingers in straight away to pry you open.

“You’re mine,” he said through clenched teeth, emphasising his words with a harsh thrust of his fingers. “You’ve always been mine.”

“I’m yours,” you repeated, tears spilling from your eyes in agreement.

“If I ever see you parading yourself-” He stopped himself, shaking his head at the thought as his fingers slipped out of you.

You weren’t sure what he was thinking as his eyes left yours, a fear creeping in as his eyelids closed momentarily. It was sudden as his hand came against your tender flesh again, and you could only scream in reaction.

“If you ever even entertain the thought of another, I will make it clear in front of the whole court who you belong to,” he swore.

His eyes met yours again, softening in the slightest as you pouted up at him with such a pained expression.

“Mine,” the word came out strained but he emphasised it with his fingers being shoved back inside your cunt. “Mine.” He repeated over and over again, synchronising each word with a harsh push of his fingers.

You couldn’t even speak as his fingers dragged against your walls, the pressure building inside of you even if your mind was fighting against it. You hated the way your stomach twisted at his actions, the familiar feeling of his fingers touching you making you latch onto him.

Even if he was only showing you cruelty, your body reacted to it, constantly desiring his touch even if it deprived of affection.

Your whimpers only seemed to drive him on as he increased the pace of his fingers, seemingly focused on pushing you to your climax.

“No one can ever make you feel like this,” he told you as you started to clamp around his fingers. “No one but me.”

You wanted to respond in agreement with him but you couldn’t get any words out as you panted like a bitch in heat. Every thrust of his fingers had your head spinning and the breath from your throat catching, unable to make words. All that left you were pathetic sounds as you whined and moaned, feeling your stomach knot from his actions.

“My beautiful girl,” Aegon said, almost as if he was reminding himself rather than you.

“Yours,” you managed to whimper, thighs shaking around his hand.

Aegon’s eyes were back on you as you came, needing to watch your face as you crumbled on top of him. He didn’t even blink as he watched every single reaction, from your lips quivering and eyes struggling to stay open as you kept his attention on him. He ate every single bit of your resolve crumbling as your cunt dripped around his fingers.

He didn’t even give you a second to recover before he was yanking you up, bringing you to sit on his lap.

You winced as your sensitive skin touched his trousers, trying not to put so much weight down to lessen the pain.

It was then Aegon finally softened, his own glassy eyes staring into yours.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, hands cupping your face as he held you close to him. “You’re mine as I am yours.”

You nodded in agreement, being reduced to tears once again as you gazed back at him. You were struggling to keep yourself together, trying to hold your composure as you nodded your head at him.

It was enough for Aegon, your tears consolidating what he already knew. You belonged to him, you had always belonged to him.

You both knew it.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagine #dark aegon targaryen #dark aegon smut #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon ii fic

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mosaickiwi · 3 months

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(sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language) Hello, I hope you are doing well! Can I ask you for a drabble about the wedding day of an emotional MC who burst into tears because she thought that this day would never come and REDACTED, but without the “lavish ceremony” (lots of guests, wedding suits, huge celebration, etc.) (please forgive me, I hope I was able to express myself clearly, thank you very much and have a nice day!) ฅ'ω'ฅ

!!!

By law I must post wedding fic on Valentine's Day!!!

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Wedding Day~

You nervously toyed with the ring in your palm, heart racing so hard it hurt. It was still difficult to believe what was happening. This was happening.

It was the same golden ring your partner had worn since you first met him. There wasn't a moment you ever saw them without it as he changed from a shy, stuttering mess in a cardigan to the clingy, dark-haired brat of a man you fell in love with more and more each day. Although the amount of rings they wore had grown.

That fateful day on the playground was something you couldn't even remember, and from what your companion told, you didn't want to. The second try was a far better memory for the both of you anyway. You were the one who proposed that time, catching them by complete surprise with the confidence you never usually had to ask anything of him. But you managed to do it.

And now you were the one who would put a ring on their finger.

“We haven't even started the vows,” [REDACTED] quietly said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Y'can’t be cryin’ just yet, Angel.”

“Am I crying?” The words came out hoarse from your already tightening throat. You hadn't realized. Sure enough, hot tears were streaming down your face as he gently wiped at them with his thumb.

You tried to calm down, gazing up at him to distract yourself. Their voice had the same familiarly teasing tone it always did, but you could tell from the soft quiver to his lower lip that he was holding back his own tears.

“Yeah, it’s—” He let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, then hurriedly pushed his dark hair out of his reddening eyes. You wanted to tease him back about it, but you knew if you tried to speak again the tears would come flooding even worse. Another few moments passed as you both tried to collect yourselves.

Surprisingly, it took him a little longer. The tears on your cheeks had long fell and dried while he stood in front of you, eyes shrouded behind their bangs.

But after one more unsteady breath, he seemed to find his way again and look at you. “Are you ready?” they asked, a shakiness to their hands as he reached for the dangling chain around your neck—the necklace he’d given to you months ago once he’d found the courage to say yes to your proposal.

With your anxious nod of approval, he continued. Cool fingertips brushed at your collarbone, finding the silver clasp at the back of your neck and releasing it with a faint clicking of metal. The necklace fell loosely in his hands as he pulled it away. The golden ring easily slid from the chain and he rolled it in his fingers for a long moment, staring at it silently.

They were noticeably calmer this time, with a trembling smile that reached their eyes as he took your left hand and repeated himself.

“Ready?”

#14 days with you #14dwy redacted #momo reqs #mushy mushy mushy #for da softies #no description of ur surroundings so u can get married wherever u want!!!#at the beach? sitting at home in bed? in a court house? a mystery #proofreading is hard i'm so picky #30 extra minutes from the time i pasted it in the draft silly me

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secret-smut-sideblog · 2 months

Text

Lover, Please Stay

Astarion x F! Tav

(Pillow Talk part 2)

18+ complicated feelings, angst, jealousy, intimacy, talks of sex work, fingering (f!), oral (f!), forced orgasm (kinda), feral Astarion, tenderness

Tav keeping him at arms length, Astarion makes a plan to woo her back into his good graces. But his hunger, for her and her blood, proves distracting...

Masterlist, Part 1

True to her word, she was avoiding him.

Even leaving him at camp. He covered the sting like he always did.

"You doing all the work while I relax with a good book? Please, if you must twist my arm."

He hid the anxiety throttling him into a sultry smile. Waving goodbye to the retreating party with a wiggle of his fingers.

When they disappeared into the treeline, he turned with a scowl and pushed inside his tent. The hunger gnawing through him now in the forefront of his mind.

In avoiding him, she had inadvertently kept him from her neck.

Animal blood wasn't enough anymore. Sure technically it filled him, it did the job. But it was a meager substitution.

When her blood would burst into his mouth, it sent a crackling pleasure across the back of his skull. Sending fire in slow pulses as her blood pushed out into his veins. From his center ebbing out a warmth in rhythm to his swallowing. His cold body cracking apart with her molten river. It was a miracle he was able to stop that first night.

The bloodcall was a prickling hateful need, but the other need he felt towards her made him bristle more.

He couldn't stop thinking about the way they had crashed and smeared into each other. There was nothing practiced about it, nothing gained or lost. Just pulling mouths and pleading fingers and dizzy heat.

He felt his cock stir just from the memory and frowned.

This wouldn't do. He was too pent up, a dog in a kennel circling.

He would get back in her good graces, in one way or another.

When they had finally returned for the night, he feigned disinterest. Lounging back on a pillow outside of his tent, flicking the pages of one of his books with the tips of his fingers.

She wiggled out of her boots with adorable little grunts. Unlacing her bracers and beginning to lift up to the buckles on her breastplate.

"Here, let me." Gale stepped over, reaching for the buckles that sat on her sides.

"Oh! Thank you!" She chirped, lifting her arm to make way for his fingers, naturally let her hand fall on his shoulder.

"I guess it's only fair. You don't wear armor, so you have much less undressing to do." She hummed.

He saw the heat go to Gale's cheeks, clearing his throat.

"You know, I could continue to help you. In the future." He offered, a slight waver in his tone.

Astarion had stood before his mind had spoken to his feet. Striding over.

"Gale, dearest. You'll keep her here all night. Let faster fingers attend to our friend here."

Gale held his hands up in defeat good naturedly, but he saw a bite flash across his eyes.

A silent crackling energy passed between them.

"Our pale friend is right, I'd better return to the delectable meal I've been planning."

Gale stepped away, but not before squeezing her bicep, leaving a lingering touch there.

The wizard was lucky his blood was putrid.

Well, maybe he could still rip his throat out for fun.

As soon as Gale was out of earshot Tav sighed, speaking under her breath to him.

"Well, Gale wants to fuck me now too."

"Ah, you'll have to forgive the boy. I'm sure he hasn't seen such a ravishing creature before that dusty tower. Nothing but his hand and books."

Tav gasped, trying to kick him, but he slid away from her foot easily. His fingers snapping her buckles open with flourish.

"You're the devil." She chided, but he could see the smile on the corner of her lips.

"Devilishly handsome? I agree."

The last buckle free, he lifted the breastplate over her.

She moaned, rotating her shoulders in relief. Her undershirt sticking to her skin. The white fabric wet with her efforts.

He kept his eyes above collarbone with great effort. The outline of her full breasts in his peripheral.

"Thank you, my savior." She teased, sitting down to unbuckle from her shin guards.

He was hovering and she noticed, looking up at him expectantly.

"Darling, I couldn't help but wonder why you haven't been offering me your sweet neck."

She sat back up, hand resting on her thigh. Eyes searching his.

"Sorry, I didn't think you'd want to see me after the other night." She said plainly.

"But I guess I'm a service, after all." Said with impartial truth.

"Sure, here." She offered her wrist up to him.

He blinked, on the back foot again.

Like she had scooped into him and pulled the marrow of his person out. That uncanny ability to speak his thoughts through her mouth.

No, I'm the service. Not you, sweet girl.

"Let's wait, no reason to supp from you out in the open. With so many prying hungry eyes."

He trailed the backs of his fingers along the inside of her wrist as she lowered it.

"Meet me in my tent, okay?" He hushed, his voice coming out uncharacteristically soft.

"Of course, whatever you need." She smiled.

He felt like he needed to prove something to her, but what?

He rearranged the pillows for a third time. The candle lit canvas shroud of his tent draped in as much comfort as he could find. Or steal.

Blankets and plush pillows. Enchanted lights draped along the roof, a lavender candle burning on a plate.

He sighed, this was too much. He was being silly.

"May I come in?" She whispered outside of the closed flap.

"I'd like nothing more." He crooned, sitting as casually as he could manage.

She ducked in and blinked in surprise. Eyes trailing along.

"Wow, what's the occasion?" She started getting comfortable. Pulling the pins free from her hair and shaking it down her back. Leaving her shoes in a neat line at the entrance.

Something about seeing her like this again made his heart sing. That casual intimacy that he desired in the cradle of his tent.

She kneeled down across from him, pulling her collar away from her neck. Turning her head to the side, bending open for him.

He leaned forward and gathered her into his hands, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder. Breathing in.

She could feel his need, touching his arm uncertainly.

"Are you okay, Star?" She hushed.

He slid his hand down her back, his eyes closed. Fingers mapping her into his memory.

"Just- just give me a moment." His voice coming out gravelly.

"Do you want me to get undressed?" She whispered, and he nodded into the side of her neck.

She pulled her sleep shirt over her head, his hands only leaving her to toss it far in the corner.

Sat in only the underclothes hugging her hips, she waited patiently as his eyes drank her.

The spread of her hips dipping into her waist. The round full of her breast. The soft curve of her stomach. An oil painting come to life.

"You're very comfortable in the nude." He teased, trying to jumble his thoughts back into his slack head.

"It takes practice." She smiled. "People usually don't want to see the wares stored away."

He could feel the confusion strike his face.

"What do you mean by that, darling?"

"Oh, I figured the others would have gossiped by now. Huh, good for them."

She flourished down her body. "This used to go to the highest bidder."

His hands slowed, pulling away.

"You were a sex worker?"

"What makes you think I'm not still one?" She winked, and he felt a hard shock of sudden recognition in her mannerisms. This was his playing field.

"Tav..." He paused, trying to wrestle his thoughts into a carefully picked set of kind words. She didn't need to know that part of his past yet. He could stand to pretend to be at least somewhat competent for a while longer.

"I get if that turns you off. We can go back to just feeding if you want."

"Well, what do you want?" He leaned his head, looking at her. Dead heart phantom hammering.

She seemed to consider it. "I think I like you, and I want to be near you. In whatever way that means to you."

He leaned forward, sliding on knees to reach her.

He laced his arm around her back, their lips hovered across one another. Her breath tickling his lips.

Sliding his hand down her front, he held her eyes.

A collective breath held between them, only broken as his fingers dipped into her heat.

Her eyes fluttered shut, hips tilting forward.

He pressed his forehead to hers as she rocked into him, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

She tried to reach for his trousers. He huffed out a soft no and led her hands to drape over his neck.

He looked at her with lidded eyes, pulsing his long fingers into her molten heat. Curving and catching the spongy wall.

She squirmed, gripping onto his thighs. One single breath passed between them. Speaking in panting and soft moans.

He pushed her onto her back, sliding down. His mouth coming down to lick in long stripes above his fingers.

She shuddered, head falling back. Gasping out little cries for him.

All of her sounds, her arching movements, wrapping around his mind in a haze.

He ground his erection into the bunched blankets on the tent floor.

His arousal a warm rhythm inside his body for once. The practiced working of his mouth finally put to a worthy effort.

He twisted his tongue into her, slurping and suckling. Free hand holding her in place as her hips tried to escape.

"Fuck," She hissed, gripping his hair. Legs starting to shake around his ears.

He moaned low and deep into her. His cock throbbing, hips fucking into the blankets.

"Oh fuck, Astarion. I'm-" But she was already rising off of the blankets, head wrenched back.

He followed her up, gripping her ass.

She squeaked out a few rising cries then fell apart in his hands. Tremoring rising up through her body, rippling outwards from where his mouth was still pulsing. Her head lolled, little jolts from her cunt as the creamy slick of her spend met his tongue. Lapping it in greedily.

He gasped. It rocketed against his skull like her blood. He needed more.

He hooked her thighs over his shoulders and dove back into her. Hungry. Messy. Uncontrolled. Completely cutting off his breath. He didn't need it anyway.

Her eyes shot open, moaning out.

"Oh Gods," She whimpered, bracing herself next to her head. Holding on as he took her apart.

He felt crazed, his hunger for her blood and the slick he pulled from her one and the same. The sounds coming from his lapping obscene.

Closing his eyes, he growled. Fingernails biting down into her ass. Saliva and slick dripping down his jaw.

One more hard swirling pull on her clit and she was shuddering hard, a strained moan of curses flowing from her lips. Eyes rolling back in her skull like marbles.

He yanked her towards him in anticipation, fingers rubbing hard into her clit encouragingly.

Her second wave of creamy slick met his tongue, so sweet and rich. Lighting his skull up in streaks of pleasure.

He pulled his weeping cock from his leathers and stroked with his slick soaked hand. Once, twice, and he was gone. Spurting thick ropes under his body, whimpering out pulsing cries as the pleasure wrenched out of him.

He lapped at her as long as she would allow, eventually gently pushing his head back.

"Gods below, Star. That was... that was heaven." She gasped.

He murmured in agreement, head falling into the inside of her thigh. Fingers trailing the silk of her side, the arch of her ribcage.

"Do you want me to stay?" She hushed, scratching lightly along his scalp.

He moaned softly, nodding into her.

"Come here to me." She purred, pulling him up her body. Resting his head against her chest.

The beat of her heart a steady tranquil drum. Her arms and legs tangled in his. He puddled into her, both of her hands scratching in slow lines along his skull.

For the first time in a long time, he fell into a heavy sleep.

The night passing dreamless.

#gale just like. i hate it here #astarion smut #astarion x tav #screenshot by @cheekylittlepupp #lyrics from: the garden - the crane wives

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1800jjbarnes · 1 year

Text

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : You and Bucky have a huge fight just before your heat starts. Now you have to choose; lose the argument and apologise or be a brat and see what happens.

『Word count』 : 2.05k

Paring: Alpha!Wolf!Bucky x Bunny!Hybrid!Reader

[Warnings] : Objectification. Swearing. Hate sex. Spanking. Using a belt to tie the reader up. Fingering, dirty talk. Pet name. Use of the words slut, whore and bitch. Heavy degradation. Choking. Crying kink. Little cum eating. Lots of body fluids. Pussy slapping. Big dick Bucky. Angst. Angry Bucky. Fighting. Some fluff at the end, I guess.

✦ The ALPHA AND BUNNY Universe ✦ -> [Click Here]

Masterlist | Navigation

Frustration brewed in Bucky as he paced the halls of the pack grounds. He didn’t mean what he said to you. But his pride refused to let him apologise first. Yes, you were both in the wrong, and you both were well aware of that. But the heated argument didn’t stop until you walked out of the room. Storming to your shared living quarters without him. He stays in the main hall for a while. Keeping his distance from anyone. And if anyone dared to speak to their angry leader, he would growl in a tone that scared anyone's wolf away.

It had only been a couple of hours. Four? Five? Heck, it was probably going on six at this point. His wolf was howling, begging for him to just give up this silent no-talking game that you and Bucky had started. But no, he needed you to apologize first. So, after finally stopping his frustrated pacing, he went to his study to try and get work done in order to distract himself. It worked for maybe five minutes before he threw some papers—that were most likely important— on the floor.

Fuck it. He thought, getting up to make a quick stride over to his living quarters but when he aggressively opened his study room door he is suddenly met with a sight he didn’t know he was going to witness for another week.

“B-Buck...” It was you. Carrying a sad pout and clenched thighs. He could smell your arousal leaking out of you. Your eyes were already glossed over and full of desperation. Through the fight, he completely misread the date, forgetting your heat was approaching. It took every fibre in his being not to pounce on you then and there. God, you smelt amazing.

“Come to apologize, I see.” His cockiness grew, knowing you would have to apologize now, and then you can both just forget about the silly fight. But little did he know you weren't going to give up that easily either. Even if you were on your heat and desperately craved him. Two can play the game, and by swearing to the moon goddess herself, you were going to try everything in order to win. Even if that means you make him even madder than he already is.

“No. It's you who should apologize.” You bit at him, while his hands snaked around your waist, pulling you inside the room before closing the door with your body. He had you pinned. Unable to move. Just how he liked it. His cocky smile stayed plastered on his face, tilting his head slightly he whispered against your neck.

“Hmm from what I can remember, it is you who started this. And besides, it seems you have a problem only I can fix. So I think you better start begging for forgiveness.” His hot breath tickled your skin. He was teasing your body, wanting to bend you. Break you. But you pushed him away slightly, showing fire burning in your eyes.

“I swear to fucking god James if you don’t do something, I will go to your fucking beta and ask him to fuck me.” you pulled him by his collar so your lips could graze his ear while his cocky expression slowly turned into one of anger. “I’m sure as hell he would be more than happy to oblige and make me cum.”

Oh, that sent him over the edge. His vision turned red as he gripped your waist before lifting you up over his shoulder. His hand landed a harsh smack on your ass sending a shiver down your spine. Your heat surge threw you like a sweetened pain, making you grip the hem of Bucky's shirt. You tug it up seeing his toned back with your upside-down view. It didn’t take long for your lover to make it to your bedroom, practically throwing you. You land on the soft comforter on your bed, pushing your face against the fluffy duvet as you watch Bucky with hooded eyes. All your anger and frustration was gone, and suddenly, the only thing you cared for was to have him in any way, shape, or form.

“Buckyy…” you groan, wanting him near you. He watched you with a smirk like he was enjoying your struggle. The tilt of his head proved just that, bending down to grab your chin, pulling you towards him. You thought he was still mad, unaffected by your heat. And you were partly right. He was still angry about what happened, but his mind was slowly losing control the more and more he took in your scent. He had always been caring and sweet in and out of the bedroom. He never wanted to hurt you in any way. But now. Now he saw raw anger-fueled lust, and he needed to release the emotions, and your body seemed to be the perfect toy for it.

“You know that I respect you, right?” He whispers in a softer tone than before, almost as if he held perfect composure. His fingers that gripped your chin moved to squish your cheeks together. Your lips pouted from the action, making you look pathetic to him.

“Yes,” you tried to speak, but his grip was tight. Your hips wiggled in anticipation, seeing his free hand reach for his belt, undoing it with ease.

“Because I’m about to fuck you with nothing but disrespect.”

Your hands were tied with the very belt he wore. Your naked form was on display just for him while he was still in his dress pants. You wanted to see all of him, have all of him. But you knew you shouldn’t dare ask for more. His fingers were sitting deep inside you, fucking you through yet another orgasm. You were so desperate for more, but you also begged for him to stop. But he didn’t listen. Your sweet scent, rich cherry with hints of vanilla, is infused in his veins and lingers on his skin like a tattoo. Those soft, whimpery sounds you make when his fingers are inside you are most alluring as the way your eyes glazed over, rolling back when he finds an especially good spot. It’s almost as irresistible as the way you would cling to him, clawing his back when it all becomes too much for your body to handle while he fucks you hard.

He’s so greedy for all of it. He can’t get enough of you. No matter how much you give, he wants more, wants to give you more of himself in return.

And it’s all your fault.

“You dirty fucking slut. Wanting another man to please you when you know for a fact I'm the only one who can make this pussy come.” He growled, leaning over your thrashing body, licking your mate mark, and taking in your scent. You didn’t even try and make a snarky comeback, just moaning out a choked please over and over like a broken record instead.

“Who knew my precious baby liked to be fucked like a whore.” He smirks feeling you clench around his fingers “You want that Doll? Want me to use this body as a toy? Fill it up with my cum for my own pleasure?”

“Yes Yes Yes Please! Fuck James!!” You screamed, cumming for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. Tears ran down, staining your cheeks. Your lips were puffy and red, swollen from the makeout. God, you were so beautiful in this moment. He wished he could print this image in his mind forever. He pulled his fingers out from your leaking hole, seeing your cum spill on the bed. He had to chuckle at how many times he made you cum just with his fingers.

“Pathetic.” He taped your lips with his cum soaked fingers, wanting you to take them in your mouth. You obeyed the silent command, sucking your release off while he uses his free hand to unbuckle his pants so he could be free of them.

“Turn around now. And I swear to god, if you try and run, I’ll tie you back down and leave you here with a vibrator connected to you. Understand.” He spat out, growling in his alpha voice, making your wolf howl in a plea. You nodded but he wanted words, so he slapped your pussy, making you jump at the shock. “Words. Bitch.”

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?” He reached for the belt, waiting for your response before he opened the clasp.

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Good Girl.” The clasp clicks, freeing your red and soon-to-be bruised wrists. You take no second chances, turning around, lifting your ass in the air for him to see you in full display. He stood at the end of the bed with a smirk plastered on his face. You were presenting yourself just for him.

Bucky could barely stand any more brief seconds his cock was not in your warm, tight pussy, immediately getting on the bed before rolling his hips to get deep inside you with one swift motion. There’s no way he’s stopping now, he can’t stop, not until he’s gotten orgasm after orgasm after orgasm out of you, like before.

He drops his weight on top of you and his sweet scent, smoked Maple, and spiced citrus drifts around you in hazy waves. You could get high off his smell alone. Teeth graze your bonding mark, the wide pad of his thumb finds your aching clit, ruthlessly circling it, sensations skitter across your skin and he grinds into you, your pussy stretched tight around his thick cock, the veiny ridges sliding against your velvety walls, leaving you so full you don’t know if you want to push him out and beg for a reprieve or clench down and beg for more.

“Cum for me? There you go, give it to me. My dirty little slut,” he grunts, “Gonna fill your tight little pussy again and again and then I’m gonna shove every drop of my cum back inside you, gonna keep you. Yeah, that’s it, fuck—such a good baby, giving me what I need, so fucking tight and warm and soft, fuck fuck I can't-,”

He breaks off, losing control for a moment. The frustration finally started to wash away. His metal hand, retches upwards, snaking around your throat in order to pull you up along with his body. But his grip tightens, making your head spin in pure pleasure. You clenched around him from his actions, letting him know you enjoy the feeling just as he enjoys the feeling of his fingers wrapped perfectly around your fragile neck. His filthy words had pushed you to the brink, blinding hot sensations flowing through your veins but it’s the way he loses control, his words slurring together, his pace quickening, becoming erratic and sloppy, thrust after deep, smooth thrust that set off your orgasm.

An indescribable noise escaped your slacked mouth, your vision blurring, and your body tensing as Bucky fucks you through. His moans stream in your ear, pushing you higher and higher until you break with a quiet sob, falling back to the sheets, pliant and sated when he finally lets your neck go. Bucky is quick to follow, chasing his own high as soon as he felt your orgasms, warmth flooding your body as he cums. His hips jerked once, twice, three times, desperately trying to push it back inside you even as it seeps around his cock.

A moment of silence is finally placed. No more anger. No more wild emotions. Just heavy breathing and fast-pumping hearts. He slid his cock out of you, swiftly turning you around so he could cage your body under him in a tight, warm hug. Was he now the one crying?

“I’m sorry…” He finally said, giving up on the whole fight entirely. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer. Enough for your face to slot against his neck, feeling safe in his arms, surrounded by his scent.

“I’m sorry too…”

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