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dunmomee · 1 month ago

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Coffee and Classicals

Synopsis: The banter between you and Levi shows no signs of slowing, especially now that he’s pressing you with the new book recommendation. Meanwhile, you’re starting to settle comfortably into the chaos of his friend group, with Hange and Erwin circling close.

a/n: I was tempted to add something spicy to this part, but I didn’t want to rush the pacing or let the chapter get too long. I’ve really been enjoying weaving the story around these two—and getting to play with Hange and Erwin’s dynamic too.

Thank you so much for all the comments; they truly reignite the fire in me every time. And to every pure math major out there—please forgive me! I usually just pick the first topics that come up in my search. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I loved writing it.

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Part seven: I Want You in My Art

It was overcast, cold enough to make you wish you’d layered up. The wind tugged at the hem of your coat as you matched pace with Levi, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his expression unreadable as always.

You glanced sideways. “You’ve been brooding for three blocks. Is this still about Anna Karenina?”

His silence said everything.

“I wasn’t saying what she did was smart,” you clarified. “Just… tragic love is still love. It was real for her.”

Levi finally spoke, voice clipped. “Love doesn’t excuse recklessness.”

You shrugged. “Maybe. But there’s something kind of admirable about wanting someone that much.”

He shot you a look—eyes narrowed, calculating. “Is that what you want? A train-track ending over some guy who looks good in a uniform?”

“God, no,” you laughed, half-sputtering. “I just meant… I don’t know. I’ve never been in love. Maybe I’m too delusional.”

“Too focused on becoming a smut valedictorian,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk.

You choked. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve read half the erotica in the café, and your bookshelf screams quantum equations. If that’s not academic contradiction…”

You elbowed him lightly. “At least I read. You just brood and critique everything I say.”

His jaw ticked. “That’s not true.”

You raised a brow. “Oh?”

But he didn’t take the bait. He went quiet again, eyes fixed forward like he was working through something heavier than philosophy midterms.

You studied him for a beat, then asked softly, “Have you ever been in love?”

The air shifted.

He didn’t answer right away. Just exhaled, slow and measured, like the question itself had weight.

“Once,” he said finally. “Didn’t end well.”

Your steps faltered. His voice hadn’t been bitter. Just hollow.

“Oh,” you murmured.

He glanced at you then, gaze unreadable. “Don’t waste your life chasing someone who doesn’t want to be caught.”

You stared at him, blinking. It was the most Levi thing you’d ever heard. Sharp. Guarded and quietly devastating.

You opened your mouth to ask something else—

“Y/N!”

Moblit’s voice cut across the quad like a pebble skipping through still water. You turned, startled, just as he jogged up, cheeks flushed from the cold.

He fell into step beside you, cheerfully animated. “Hey, did you see the new problem set? All non-Euclidean geometry. You’re gonna love it. Rico saved us seats.”

You lit up. “Seriously? That’s perfect……I was just reviewing hyperbolic planes last night.”

Levi didn’t say anything, but you felt his presence retreat, like a wave drawing back from shore.

“Morning, Levi,” Moblit added, oblivious.

Levi nodded, barely.

As you and Moblit veered toward the math building, your laugh echoed once, soft enough to escape Moblit’s notice, sharp enough to splinter inside Levi’s chest.

He didn’t move.

His jaw clenched.

He scowled harder, stuffing his hands deeper into his coat pockets.

“She has shit taste,” he muttered, this time to himself.

And yet, he stayed rooted on the path, watching until you disappeared through the doors.

––––

It was another Sunday.

The scent of brewed espresso lingered in the soft-lit corners of the café as the hour edged toward eight. You were curled into the corner booth, boots tucked beneath you, one hand supporting your chin, the other holding Levi’s latest recommendation: The Handmaid’s Tale.

You’d just finished chapter four, brow furrowed at the slow-burn unease threading through every page.

Behind the bar, Levi moved with his usual quiet precision—cleaning, rinsing mugs, rearranging the pastry display even though it had been sold out since six. The “CLOSED” sign hung in the window. The last customer had shuffled out ten minutes ago.

He didn’t speak until he caught you flipping a page too fast.

“You sure you’re actually reading it?” he said, low and dry.

You glanced up. “I’m on chapter five.”

He didn’t smile, but you caught the flicker of interest. “What do you think?”

“It’s unsettling. Sparse. Kinda claustrophobic.” You tapped the page. “Like the narrator’s choking on her own thoughts.”

He nodded once. “Good.”

You raised a brow. “That’s a weird reaction.”

“It’s doing its job.”

You tilted your head. “Honestly, I expected something more dramatic. Probably because of the series.”

Levi’s face darkened like a thundercloud. “Ignore the series.”

“Wow, okay.” You laughed. “Did Hulu hurt you personally?”

“It butchered the tone. Turned nuance into spectacle.”

You held up your hands, grinning. “Alright, alright. I’ll pretend it doesn’t exist.”

Satisfied, Levi moved to the tables near your booth, wiping them down with a damp cloth. He glanced over his shoulder. “That beast of yours still alive?”

You blinked, thrown. Small talk. From Levi.

He nodded toward you. “Beethoven. Whatever.”

You narrowed your eyes. “His name is Bertholdt. And yes, he’s alive—and judging everything.”

“Figures. He nearly killed me last time.”

You tried not to smile at the image of Levi being bested by your peaceful, chronically unimpressed cat. “He did not. He’s a good boy. Maybe your dry personality triggered him.”

“He has the energy of an apathetic doorman.”

You laughed. “That’s rude.”

A beat of silence passed. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and looked back at the book, adjusting your cat-shaped glasses. Levi returned behind the bar. A few moments later, he spoke again.

“There’s an art show next Saturday. Miche’s exhibit.”

You looked up. “Miche? I think Hange mentioned he’s built like a linebacker? She said he once cracked a chair by sitting in it too fast.”

“He prefers ‘sculpted,’” Levi deadpanned. “It’s mostly atmospheric stuff. Textural. Erwin’s going. Hange too, obviously. Might be tolerable... with another person.”

You blinked. “Are you inviting me?”

He shrugged, too casual. “You read depressing literature about velvet rods and senseless sex, and named your cat after a war criminal. You’re qualified.”

“So romantic,” you snorted.

“It’s not a date.”

You grinned, sensing how hard he clung to that line. “Sure, Levi. Definitely not a date. And ‘velvet rod’ is oddly specific.”

“Shut up.”

He didn’t look at you directly, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Hange said she’ll pick you up.”

You watched him head toward the back, his jacket catching the amber light as he passed beneath it. You looked down at The Handmaid’s Tale, the pages open in your lap.

But you weren’t really reading anymore.

––––

All week, you buzzed with anticipation for your not-a-date date. You and Hange had spent hours debating outfits like the fate of the free world depended on it—sorting through color palettes, arguing over boho versus minimalist like it was a thesis defense. You counted down the days, then the hours, then the minutes.

Finally, it was Saturday.

The gallery smelled faintly of paint and eucalyptus. White walls, moody lighting, and a soft indie playlist hummed through the space like emotion had a soundtrack. Hange had practically launched you through the entrance with the kind of zeal she usually reserved for successful experiments and government conspiracies.

“Look alive,” she whispered in a stage-hiss. “We’re here to support Miche, whether you get the art or think it’s just emotionally-charged finger painting.”

“I already feel like a fraud,” you muttered, eyeing a nearby painting full of jagged red brushstrokes. “Is that a volcano mid-eruption or... someone’s unresolved trauma?”

“Same thing,” Hange said brightly. “See? You do get it.”

Levi was already waiting inside, clad in a sharp black jacket that made him look like the lead detective in an indie noir film. Erwin stood beside him, calm as ever, like he’d already accepted the chaos that came with this friend group.

Levi gave you a slow once-over. “You look like a Tumblr goddess.”

You blinked. “Thanks—”

“If Tumblr had a nervous breakdown in a cottagecore aisle at Goodwill.”

“Oh,” you deadpanned. “So it’s a backhanded compliment.”

“It’s a sentence,” he said, flat.

Erwin chuckled. “Translation: he thinks you look nice, but he’s physically incapable of saying it without sounding like an existential crisis.”

“She said she wanted to connect with the art,” Hange added smugly, throwing air quotes like confetti.

Levi stared at you like you’d confessed to baptizing yourself in acrylic paint. “And you thought dressing like a patchouli-scented goddess would help?”

“I thought maybe if I looked the part, I’d feel something,” you said with a shrug. “So far, all I feel is broke and underqualified.”

“That’s because you and Blind Bartimaeus here thought you had to ‘connect’ to the art,” Levi muttered.

Hange gasped, scandalized. “Did you just call me Blind Bartimaeus?!”

“I’m very sure it was your idea, Four Eyes.”

“That’s blasphemous,” you said, nudging him with your elbow. “Aren’t you worried about divine retribution?”

Levi rolled his eyes like he’d been punished enough already. “Let it come.”

“It definitely will.” Erwin murmured. “You should stop calling Hange names”

“No,” Levi replied. “She should stop calling me Shorty.”

“Aren’t you short?” you said, feigning innocence.

Levi gave you the coldest glare.

“Accurate,” Erwin and Hange chorused.

You moved through the gallery as a unit, an increasingly chaotic one. You paused at each piece, trying your best to understand. One canvas looked like depression if it were a weather system, another resembled tax season. Hange narrated every piece like she was hosting a paranormal documentary. “This one? Definitely Levi’s repressed feelings.”

“Keep projecting,” Levi muttered, deadpan.

Eventually, he muttered something about “saving what’s left of his brain cells” and tugged you away by the wrist toward another hallway.

You blinked at him. “Scared I’ll start describing the next piece as ‘corporate angst in gouache’?”

“No,” he said. “Worried you’ll try to write a thesis about it and get a PhD in Aesthetic Delusion.”

But you didn’t get the chance to answer.

You turned a corner and both of you stopped.

The piece ahead was quiet. It wasn’t loud or tortured. It was a horizon of deep navy and midnight blue, flecked with pale silver and streaks of lavender. It shimmered under the gallery lights like a frozen lake reflecting the northern sky. The plaque read: Northern Peace.

Levi stilled beside you.

His hands, usually buried in pockets or crossed in suspicion, hung at his sides. His jaw was tense, but his eyes were soft. Locked on the painting.

You watched him, not the art. “What do you see?”

“It reminds me of the silence after a fight,” he said quietly. “The kind that leaves you sitting in a room alone. Just… listening to yourself breathe. Wondering what the hell it was all for.”

The words hung in the air, like dust in sunlight.

You glanced at him again. “That’s… oddly poetic.”

“I’m full of surprises,” he muttered.

“Is that what’s behind the grumpiness? Secret poetry?”

He didn’t answer. But he didn’t look away either.

Slowly, you reached out. Palm to palm, nothing more. His hand twitched under yours but didn’t move.

“If anyone asks,” he said, eyes still on the painting, “I’m only letting you do this because I’m avoiding smiting from Tumblr Gaia.”

You smiled, fingers brushing against his lightly.

“Sure, Short King.”

Levi gave you a long-suffering look, but didn’t move his hand.

“Cute,” came a new voice behind you. “Didn’t know I was hosting a live performance of emotional growth.”

You turned, startled. A tall man stood there with tousled blond hair and a calm, amused expression. His voice was low and dry, like he didn’t speak unless it mattered—and when it did, you listened. He wore a muted gray coat, hands tucked into the pockets like he had nothing to prove.

Levi sighed. “Speak of the devil.”

Miche.

“Oh!” you straightened up. “You must be Miche. I’m Y/N.”

He nodded, taking your outstretched hand in an easy shake. “I figured. Hange doesn’t shut up about you.”

“That’s deeply threatening,” you muttered.

“She meant it in a good way,” Miche said, a trace of amusement in his voice. “I think.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Levi deadpanned.

“I wouldn’t either,” Hange chimed in, reappearing with Erwin and a half-eaten brownie from the refreshment table. “But it was affectionate slander!”

You laughed nervously, then glanced around. “So… confession time. I didn’t understand a single thing in there.”

You gestured back toward the previous exhibit.

Miche’s brow arched slightly. “Not even one piece?”

“I thought one looked like a tax audit,” you said honestly. “Another one gave me heartburn.”

Miche stared at you for a beat. Then, he grinned. “Perfect. That was the intended effect.”

You blinked. “Wait—really?”

“No,” he said, turning smoothly. “But I like the honesty.”

Levi snorted behind you. “You’re fueling the wrong fire.”

“She’s refreshing,” Miche said simply. “Everyone walks in pretending to get it. No one ever says it’s all nonsense.”

“I didn’t say it was nonsense!” you exclaimed. “I said I didn’t understand it.”

“Which is fair,” Miche said. “Not everything’s meant to be understood. Sometimes it’s just meant to be felt.”

Hange nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! It’s the essence of art!”

“You called one of the paintings ‘Levi’s rage in acrylic,’” Erwin reminded her mildly.

“And I stand by that.”

Miche tilted his head at you. “But really, I’m glad you came. You look good in this kind of space. Like you belong here.”

You blinked. “That’s... actually really nice.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Levi muttered, voice acidic.

Miche looked at him and smirked. “Someone has to. Otherwise she’ll keep taking your feedback seriously.”

“His feedback was that I look like Tumblr had a breakdown in a thrift store.”

“Stylish breakdown,” Miche said. “Very on trend.”

You beamed. Levi looked like he was actively reconsidering his life choices.

“I should’ve just come alone,” he mumbled.

“And miss all this ego inflation?” you teased. “Never.”

“Regret,” Levi deadpanned. “Pure and immediate regret.”

You couldn’t stop smiling.

Whatever you didn’t understand about the art, you were beginning to understand this. The cadence of inside jokes, the brushstrokes of teasing and quiet loyalty.

It was a kind of art you couldn't analyze, only feel.

Nothing like the equations or smutty paperbacks you clung to for comfort.

Maybe this, too, was worth reveling in.

----

a/n: I fully leaned into the Bertholdt meme. How could I not? It was way too juicy to pass up. Honestly, I had the idea long before I even wrote this part. Hehehe.

Also, I had a bit of a brainwave, do you think the title should stay as it is, or does Erotica and Classicals sound better? Let me know what you think!

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r0seb100d · 12 days ago

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Dallas Winston x boho 60s/70s reader for this ask!

#Dallas winston #Dallas winston x reader #60s aesthetic #70s aesthetic #boho #boho reader #hippie #free spirit #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #dallas x reader #dally winston x reader #vintage aesthetic #vintage #vintage Americana #Matt Dillon

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deityoftellan-los · 1 month ago

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This, I call my little universe.

In a snap, it shifts

from Earth, where I work,

to Nemynd, the world I build.

Here, karma is infinite

traveling from softphone calls and emails

to the crows and minds of my Thyras.

I am watched through a glass dome,

undisturbed.

Though there's a crack I never dared seal

I keep it, just wide enough to swoop through if my children call.

This is my poetic corner

where worlds are built and deals are closed.

#my writing #writing #writers and readers #spilled words #writers on tumblr #poetry #poets on tumblr #spilled poetry #original poem #work from home #witchy mom vibes #boho mama life #green living #novel

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gghostwriter · 11 months ago

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One Single Thread of Gold

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 2 Summary: The three times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the one time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes Trope: Fluff! Just fluff and team banter! w.c: 4.0k a/n: For some reason, my earlier post on this disappeared dunno why. But this is a very self indulgent fic as reader’s background is basically based on the industry I work in. I had a lot of fun writing the team banter and I hope you enjoy it too! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗

The first clue presented itself on a dull Wednesday night as the team, minus Hotch and Rossi, were leaving the bullpen after a full day of pushing papers. Penelope in all of her sunshine and colorful glory was buzzing about these accessories that she once spotted on a storefront window.

“I saw a pair of earrings and a matching necklace that would look so good with that top you bought the other day, JJ. You know, the blue one with those soft sleeves—they would look great with it. It’s tres boho chic.”

JJ smiled, opening her mouth to reply, but Spencer beat her to it.

“Did you know that boho chic was actually a response to political and social movements?”

“Wait, what?” Emily interjected.

He took her disbelief as a sign to continue on. “Yeah, yeah. There’s an article written about it in Vogue—softness and femininity historically appears in moments of political stress and war. Just like in the 70s with the hippie and anti-war movement that defined their style as a generation.”

They all piled into the elevator and turned to face the boy genius like he grew another head. For all they knew, this could be a clone and a very bad one at that. The Spencer Reid that they knew had absolutely no interest in the realms of fashion.

Penelope was the first to break the silence. “Vogue?”

“Kid, what gives? Just the other time, you didn’t know how many shoes a woman owns and now you’re some kind of expert?” Derek asked with both eyebrows raised.

“Did not knowing activate some kind of button that made you want to read about it?” Emily added on, feeling like she was in some kind of TV prank show.

“What?” Spencer licked his lips, nervous with all the attention on him. He felt like he was about to slip something up that he had been keeping to himself for a while now. A hidden precious gem that was you. “I—I like to read.” A believable excuse except his voice went up an octave, giving him away.

The three women shared a look.

“But you read academic textbooks and classic literature,” JJ stated.

Penelope added on. “Not fashion magazines.”

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I don’t discriminate when it comes to reading. If it’s interesting—” he shifted his weight one side to another, thinking that the ride down on the elevator seemed to be taking slower than usual. “—I’ll read it.”

Penelope narrowed her eyes. She was no profiler but she could smell a lie from a mile away way. That wasn’t the whole truth. Dr. Spencer Reid was hiding something.

“Okay, see you tomorrow!” he squeaked out as he ran out of the elevator once it hit the lobby.

She turned to the three profilers, stunned with the boy genius’ erratic behavior. “Huh, did anybody else get the feeling that Spencer was hiding something?”

“Maybe, but the kid does read a lot. Maybe he just ran out of books.” Morgan shrugged.

The other two profilers tilted their heads and slowly nodded in agreement. It wasn’t far off on something Spencer would do. He did once pick up a pamphlet in the airport to read as mentioned before to her by Derek, granted it was for a case but still, Penelope couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else.

So when she arrived home that very same night, she propped up her laptop and got to digging. Boy Genius was hiding something big and Little Miss Oracle of Quantico can find anything with her tech skills. She’ll get to the bottom of this mystery, once and for all.

———

Spencer was glad to be coming home to your presence. Having spied the lights still on from the outside of the apartment, he took the steps two at a time, excited to see his 2nd favorite person after his mother—you.

“Spence?” You called out, having heard the mahogany front door open. “Is that you, baby?”

“Hey, love. I missed you,” he deposited his satchel to the nearby sofa and ran to give you a hug.

You burrowed yourself into his arms. All the muscles in your body relaxing as you caught a whiff of his cedar wood perfume—the same scent you’ve gifted to him during the early stages of dating. “I missed you too. How was your day?”

“Better now with you,” his words coming out muffled as he refused to detach himself from the embrace. “Actually, I almost slipped up today.”

You extricated from his arms to give him an inquisitive look. The slight scrunch on your nose and raised brows made his heart flutter. How expressive, free, and trusting you were. It reminded him of your first encounter. How you teasingly asked him if he was a serial killer when he offered you a ride home in the pouring rain and how you easily accepted regardless.

“Yeah? Did any of them catch on?” you probed as you pulled him by his belt loops to the direction of the bedroom.

He laughed, finding your aggression cute. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Maybe we should schedule dinner with them sometime,” you coyly suggested as you slowly started to unravel his tie. “I mean, we’ve been together for over a year now and I have moved into your apartment, under the guise of watering your plants while you’re away. Which is a lie, by the way—”

“I have plants!” he protested. His hands divesting you out of his sweater, bringing to view his favorite silk set in deep purple that accentuated your skin and the blush on your cheeks.

“—that I brought over, Spence,” you quipped back. “But don’t worry, I won’t spill how the intelligent FBI agent fooled naive me into moving in with him.”

There was a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. “Love, I wouldn’t exactly call you naive—” his voice going an octave lower. “—not when you’re looking at me with those tempting eyes of yours.”

Giggling, you leaned in for a kiss, one that he quickly took over. His calloused dominant hand wrapped around the back of your neck, effectively caging you in while his other cradled your cheek—a stark contrast to the other. Kissing Spencer had always felt like a religious experience that you never want to part from.

Reluctantly pulling away, you caught glimpse of his need for you. His hazel eyes now dark as ink, nostrils slightly flared, teeth sinking into his lower lip, and his dominant hand dug into the fleshy nape of your neck. It made you feel desirable, like the goddess that he would call you when he’s on his knees tasting nectar from the source.

The discussion of inviting the team out for dinner was long forgotten. No other words were spoken as you pushed him on the bed—only the cries of his and your name and moans of ‘yes’ echoed well into the night.

***

The second clue was uncovered when Spencer walked into the cold windy bullpen with new black cardigan adorning his lithe body. It was non-descriptive to the untrained eye but for fashion enthusiast Penelope Garcia, she knew what those four white lines on the sleeve meant—luxury label and priced well above their pay grade.

She narrowed her eyes. The Spencer she knew wouldn’t dare spend his salary on anything besides limited first edition books. Something was truly up and she planned to get to the bottom of it as her initial online search turned up nothing.

“Reid, that’s a really nice sweater,” she complimented, throwing in her bait.

He smiled. The thought of who gave it to him warmed his heart. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks Garcia.”

Her sparkly pink kitten heels clacking on the floor as she came closer. “Can I see it?” she innocently asked.

The request threw Spencer off the loop but thought nothing of it as he shrugged and handed it to her—still warm from body temperature.

Her squeals caught the attention of the other profilers filling into the office.

“What is it, baby girl?” Morgan deposited his bag on the table and stationed himself beside her. “It’s Reid’s new sweater. Are you seeing something I’m not seeing?”

Garcia rolled her eyes. This was why females are considered more observant that their sex counterpart. Her chocolate thunder was a profiler but how could he not notice what she was deducing?

“Huh,” Emily surmised. “Based on the fibers, it’s definitely not polyester. Possibly a 100% wool, what do you think, JJ?”

“It says here on the tag—100% virgin wool,” she read out loud. “That makes it very expensive, right Garcia?”

The colorful tech analyst smiled. Her girls could never let her down. “Right you are, girlfriends! But it’s not only that, this—” pointing at the four stripes on the sleeve. “—this is a signature Thom Browne detail. Their prices go up to at least 600 dollars—” they all turned to Reid who seemed clearly agitated. “—now why does our boy wonder have a piece that could buy at most five cute heels?”

With his vast intellect, he couldn’t think of a way to weasel out of this impromptu interrogation. He couldn’t very well say that it was a gift now could he? If he did, that would lead to another hard hitting question ‘from who?’ He raked his hand through his curly hair, taking the same path as yours did just earlier as you gave him a kiss goodbye.

When you gifted him the cardigan from your last New York business trip, he really thought nothing of its material equivalence, besides feeling grateful and loved. It was proof that you paid attention to even the littlest details about him.

“Hey Spence, I got you something,” you looked up at him with sparkling eyes. The first thing you had done when you got home was run into his arms. A simple act that healed his aching heart from missing it’s other half.

You reached into your luggage, enthusiastically pulling out the black clothing wrapped in tissue paper like some magician pulling out a rabbit from a hat. “Here you go!”

“A new sweater!” He exclaimed.

You rocked on your heels, looking bashful as you explained the reasoning behind it. “I noticed you fidgeting when you wore the cardigan JJ gifted you last Christmas, the polyester fibers used on it must have been really itchy so I got you a new one—” your eyes widened at how your explanation could be taken the wrong way. “—not that her gift wasn’t great! No, it was very cute! It’s just—I want you to be comfortable and protected during your cases in cold states. Polyester is a good insulator of heat but wool is still the best.”

He loved how unabashed you rambled about your interests. That was one of the first things he piqued his notice. How you liked to share your knowledge about the fashion industry that you work for but never coming across as stuck up or snobby, you just genuinely wanted to educate anyone who had a wrong perception of the billion dollar commerce. Admittedly, he was one of them but hearing you rave about it’s nitty-gritty details and socio-economic movements changed his mind. It also helped that a beautiful and intelligent woman, such as yourself, was educating him.

He pulled you in for a kiss, stopping all the worries that ran through your head. “I love it. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing at all, baby. I like taking care of you. Just like how you take care of me,” you reasoned. “Plus I got it on sale courtesy of the magazine connections.”

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. It was Penelope with an eyebrow raised at the subtle smile that graced his face while he replayed the moment in his head.

“Okay,” Morgan drawled. “What’s got you smiling, Pretty boy?”

“Nothing,” he squeaked out, turning to see Hotch make his way across the office. Spencer hurriedly collected his things and started to move even before their unit chief could call their attention.

“We have a case,” Hotch announced.

The remaining BAU members all looked at each other, silently communicating about Reid’s irregular demeanor, before piling into the conference room for another grueling scene of murder.

“He’s been acting weird,” Garcia rushed out. “Definitely hiding something. What do you think, Em?”

Emily nodded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“A girl?” JJ guessed.

“Yes, must be a special one for him to keep secret for so long,” Garcia surmised. “Do you think he’ll hate it if I go further digging around to find out who she is?”

“Further?” Emily clarified.

JJ laughed. “Probably, let’s wait for him to volunteer the information. Okay, Garcia?”

She sighed, shoulders drooping, before nodding in agreement.

***

The third clue was quite literally handed to Penelope Garcia on the jet after a case when she accompanied the team.

“Cold Alaska is so not good for my skin,” she grumbled as she rummaged her bottomless bag for her favorite hand cream. “I love going with you all on trips rather than being stuck in my own tech cave but the weather wasn’t it.”

Morgan chuckled. “Aw c’mon baby girl, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy our time together?”

“You, my sculpted hunk, and the fireplace were the highlight,” Penelope turned to the other female profilers. “My beauties, do any of you have lotion? I think I lost mine.”

Before JJ or Emily could even utter a word, a tube made its way to her lap courtesy of her seat mate, Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Reid, since when do you carry lotion?” Emily inquired.

He shrugged. “Hand cream has it’s benefits besides from moisturizing the skin, it also provides an additional layer of protection. Depending on it’s properties, it can also repair and undo damage.”

The females all shared a look. This was another unexplainable behavior from their resident genius.

“We know that,” JJ stated. “We just thought you didn’t.”

His brows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, besides from the fact that you’ve never shown interest about skincare before, isn’t it a stereotype for men not to know? Unless—” Emily slyly smiled and nodded at Garcia to continue.

“Unless you have a girlfriend that we don’t know about,” Garcia bounced on her seat.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Spencer’s eyes widened in alarm. He didn’t realize he was walking into a trap before it was too late. “What makes you say that?”

They laughed.

JJ started. “Besides from you suddenly being knowledgeable in fashion—“

“—or having a pricey sweater you’d never buy for yourself—” Emily added on.

“Or, or—“ Garcia reached out to touch his hand. Which made Spencer react with a high pitched call of her name. “—having a shea butter lotion with rough hands!” She waved the tube up in the air. “Plus, this is half empty. So either it’s not working which I doubt since this is a good brand or you keep this in your bag for a special someone to use!”

Derek chuckled. “Baby girl, you could be a profiler at this point.”

“Oh tell me something I don’t know,” she quipped back. “So Reid, want to tell us the truth?”

He sighed, finding no escape. “Yes, yes I have a girlfriend.”

The girls all shrieked with laughter and their own corresponding questions of who is she? How did you meet? How long has this been going on? What does she do for a living? Is she pretty? Oh I bet she is!

“Looks like that cat is out of the bag,” Rossi nonchalantly stated.

Four sets of eyes turned to look at one of the BAU founders. “Rossi, you knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Garcia gasped, a hand to her chest at the thought of betrayal.

He laughed. “I caught them on a dinner date once and our boy wonder over here—“ nodded in Reid’s direction. “—begged me not to out him yet, said he wanted to be the one to tell the team the news but that was like what, six months ago?”

“Six months ago?” Emily repeated.

“Wait, wait. Hotch, don’t tell me you also knew?” Morgan asked.

The unit chief smiled. “She was added to Reid’s emergency contact last February.”

“February? That’s almost a year ago!” JJ sputtered out.

The tech analyst turned to glare at the youngest member of the BAU. “Reid, you better start spilling all the details or so help me, I will stalk all your digital footprint when we land until I find out who she is, where she lives, and what her deepest darkest secret is.”

“What about hearing it all from her, instead?” He rubbed the back of his neck. The secrecy had gone on for so long and there was no time like the present to introduce his chosen family to his chosen partner—hopefully until the end of time. “She wants to treat you all out for dinner tonight.”

All four nodded vigorously as they watched him pull out his phone and send a quick text to which you readily replied and agreed to.

“My man,” Derek sighed. “Can’t believe you got a girlfriend without me being your wingman.”

“Answer me at least this, is she pretty and does she make you happy?” Garcia asked. No matter how nosey she may be, she only wanted the best for Spencer and if the recent lightness and smiles were all caused by his mystery girlfriend, she already approved.

“The prettiest,” Spencer gushed out. “She’s my own personal sunshine.”

The three girls melted into their seats. Their youngest was all grown up waxing prose over his lover.

“She makes you sappy too,” Derek teased.

***

[EXTRA - When the mystery was uncovered]

Spencer had never felt any more nervous that this moment as he, with the rest of the team minus Hotch and Rossi, wait for your arrival. He sat with his back to the restaurant entrance and his cardigan laying on the empty seat beside him as a reservation mark. His eyes had been going back and forth to his idle phone and to the conversation the team was having.

Morgan noted his state of distress and chuckled. “You okay there, lover boy? She’s still coming right, your mystery girlfriend?”

“Yeah, yeah. She said she was on her way 9 minutes and 24 seconds ago and based on the route and traffic, she should have been here 45 seconds earlier. Just worried that something might have happened.”

Penelope leaned in, picking on her bubblegum pink choice of drink as she did. “You know, if you just told me her name I could have tracked every movement by now and you wouldn’t be sitting here worrying.”

“What—no Garcia, I don’t want her tracked plus she didn’t want you to know everything about her even before meeting her,” his voice going up an octave in your defense.

She shrugged. “I’m just saying. I mean we don’t know a single thing about her—”

“We do know she exists and you’ve been together for almost a year now,” Emily interjected.

“Actually, it’s been more than year—one year and 124 days to be exact.”

“Buttercup, all I’m saying is we don’t even know how she looks—” Garcia gasped, having spotted a passerby on the window and what she was wearing. “Oh my gosh, that maroon coat is to die for and that textured leather bag—I wonder if I could track her down and ask where she got it.”

“Oh she’s pretty,” JJ noted.

Derek smirked. “Baby girl, tell me if you plan to ask her ‘cause I wouldn’t mind asking for her number.”

The tech analyst’s eyes further widened as she noted the attractive woman going inside the restaurant.

“You weren’t kidding about that coat, Garcia, it looks really nice,” JJ appraised.

Emily squinted her eyes, taking note of the garment in question. “It looks high quality, probably vintage and—is she going near us?”

“Oh gods, she is! Act natural, act natural!” Penelope chanted as she repeatedly slapped Derek’s arm.

The stranger stopped behind Spencer. “Hey handsome,” your melodic voice was a siren that called to his every being. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped as she took in Derek’s flustered reaction.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, getting picked up in such a public setting was new even for him—the ladies man of the BAU.

You laughed. “Well, you too but I was more of talking to this lover of mine—“ you bent down, kissing your boyfriend’s cheek. “Hey, Spence.”

A series of gasps were heard all around the table.

The youngest stood up and turned to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “Hey, Y/N. I was starting to get worried.”

“I missed the train, sorry I forgot to send an update,” you explained as he helped you into your seat.

Promptly seating back down, he angled his body to yours—all attention on you as if you were the only one in the room. And in a way you were, with how molten his doe eyes stared, alternating between yours and your painted lips that begged to be kissed.

He always felt breathless when you were near. It was as if he found his very own Aphrodite to worship here on earth. Spencer was no believer of fates or destiny but he would pray and light a candle if he needed to, just to keep you his. Your intelligent mind complimenting his, your outgoing personality that draws anyone in, and your face that could launch a thousand ships.

Those eyes that could read the deepest crevices of his fiber of being. Those cheeks that begged to be caressed by his calloused hands. Those soft lips that deserved to be kissed and devoured until you, in turn, were as breathless as he was. He suddenly wished you both were anywhere else but here—specifically in the confines of the apartment where he was free to express his love, devotion, and adoration until you scream his name and beg him to stop. His hand, having found it’s way to your thigh, squeezed the flesh three times—communicating his promise to have your hair laid around you like a halo as you lay under him, bare and writhing with need.

The blonde on the other end of the table cleared her throat, cutting through the tension.

“Okay, Spence,” she smiled. “Mind introducing us to your girlfriend?”

He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a series of sweet kisses on your knuckle. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is the rest of the team. Morgan—“ he gestured to each one. “Emily, JJ, and Garcia.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” You exclaimed. “So sorry we’re only meeting now. We wanted to stay in our little bubble for as long as we could plus this handsome FBI agent—” you nudged Spencer’s shoulder. “—wanted to keep me to himself. But where’s Aaron and Dave?”

Emily whispered under her breath. “Aaron? Dave?”

“They had prior commitments, love. They did send their regards and Rossi wants to invite you to the next gathering at his mansion,” Spencer explained.

“Love?” Penelope squeaked out. This was really starting to feel like Twilight zone for the team members.

You nodded. “I’ll definitely plot it on my calendar. Now, I heard you had some questions for me?”

“How’d you two meet?” JJ asked.

“When was the first date?” Emily inquired.

Penelope brought out a pen and paper. “What’s you social security number?”

Derek snorted at that. “Do you have any other siblings?”

Spencer’s eyebrows raised further and further up with each question while your shoulders shook with laughter.

“She has all the time in the world to get to know each of you,” Spencer laid out. “No need to make it sound like an interrogation.” He was wishing to keep you forever, if you’d let him.

You smiled as you caressed his cheek, having caught on to the veiled meaning behind his words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #my own fics

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ittybittyfanblog · 5 months ago

Text

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 10

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, family issues, generational trauma, self-growth, personal issues (and dealing with it), hurt and comfort, hmmmm…. let’s leave it at that for now :) A/N: Final chapter, guys! Thanks so much for reading <3

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

“Oh, what the hell—since when do you cook?”

“Bitch,” you laugh, nudging past them, the ceramic pot still steaming in your hands. “Do you want the risotto or not?”

The scent of garlic and pecorino permeates the air as you stand in front of the small foyer of the duplex where your friend—questionable, at the moment—lives. Your most recent culinary masterpiece, deemed safe (enough) for public consumption, rests between your hands in silent offering to the skeptic figure who’s barring you from crossing the threshold.

It’s still warm, and you’re not one to brag, but you think you’ve outdone yourself with this one. Not that it matters—everybody’s a fucking critic these days.

“Risotto?” Khol parrots in disbelief. “You don’t show up in forever, suddenly you’re all cuoca straordinario or some shit. Get out of here with your Mario ass–”

“Don’t mind them,” Anna interjects from behind your biggest hater, all cheer as she plucks the pot from your hands. “This smells amazing, actually. Come in!”

With that, she vanishes inside, leaving you and Khol alone in the doorway. You give them a knowing look.

“Oh wow,” you remark, all mock surprise. “You live together now?”

Khol rolls their eyes, already tired of you. “You missed the biggest arc of the last five months, but yeah.”

You step inside, and right away, something feels… different. It could partly be due to how much time has passed since you last visited, and it’s clearly still their place—the brooding industrial-emo aesthetic remains intact, still suspiciously close to resembling the lair of an angsty comic book antihero on acid—but it’s been overtaken by bits of boho-chic scattered all over the space.

Where there was once nothing but charcoal, vinyl, and concrete, there are now textures. Colorful woven throws drape artfully over the arm of the leather Eames sofa they won off a Craigslist bid. Tasseled pillows have multiplied across every seat surface like some kind of fabric-based contagion, while pothos vines dangle lazily from macramé hangers, stretching towards the moody Edison bulbs like they’re trying to escape the existential crisis of living here.

And then there’s the rug. Oh god, the rug.

A comically massive tufted ‘Flower Power’ rug sprawls across the center of the room, a swirling explosion of pinks and oranges—a final, cutesy fuck you to the apartment’s formerly depressing atmosphere before Khol’s new roommate staged her cheerful coup.

It should’ve been a hilarious sight, like a chaotic school art project where every kid picked a different medium to color and refused to compromise. But somehow… it works?

Against all odds, the goth cryptid and the hippie gremlin have found domestic equilibrium.

“Love what you did with the place, Anna,” you call out, toeing off your shoes at the door. “It doesn’t look like a twelve-year-old’s fantasy bedroom anymore.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Khol laughs, shaking their head. “As if you’re one to talk. Last time I visited, you still had that stupid-ass sofa. Is it still there?”

You sniff haughtily. “Excuse you, but that’s a custom piece. You wouldn’t get it.”

"Alright, you two," Anna says, leaning against the archway between the living room and kitchen, one hip propped against the frame. "Both of you have terrible taste in decor. Now, I have a fabulous Prosecco to pair with the risotto." She tilts her head, shooting her partner a pointed look. "Khol, darling, be a dear and grab the crystal from the cupboard?"

"Whipped," you sing as Khol, predictably, does exactly as told. They don’t even bother with a comeback, just flashes you a lazy middle finger over their shoulder as they disappear from view.

You grin, shaking your head. The moment stretches into something easy, comfortable. It’s nice—being here, bantering like no time has passed. You let yourself sink into it, tugging off your beanie as you cross the room.

The creaky couch welcomes you like an old friend, and you flop down unceremoniously, stretching your legs out, rubbing your feet against the oversized monstrosity of a rug that is... honestly, pretty fucking comfortable, actually.

Anna follows suit, settling beside you with far more grace, tucking one foot under the other.

She watches you for a moment, expression warm but slightly inquisitive. “We haven’t seen you in a while.”

You exhale, tipping your head back, staring up at the beams on the ceiling. "Yeah, sorry. Been a little out of it these past… couple of months, I guess."

Anna makes a quiet noise, something between understanding and acknowledgment. "You’re doing okay now?"

The easy answer sits on your tongue—yeah, of course. An automatic response, a reflex built from habit. Another front to put up, another lie to slip behind.

But you’ve been working on this. So instead, you take a breath and say,

"Not… really."

The words feel foreign, heavy, but oddly freeing as they leave your mouth.

Your gaze flickers to the side table; framed photos of Khol and Anna, smiling, sunlit. You don’t linger.

“I mean, better now compared to, maybe, a few weeks ago. I’m getting there.”

Anna’s brows lift slightly – not in surprise at the sentiment itself, but at the fact that you admitted it out loud. There’s something thoughtful in her expression, something softer around the edges. “Good. That’s good.”

You can tell she means it. Maybe even more than you expected.

"Yeah."

There’s a brief lull. You catch yourself tugging at the edge of your cardigan—a nervous habit you never quite broke. The warmth of the apartment is settling in you quite comfortably, but there’s something about sitting still under Anna’s gentle scrutiny that makes you restless.

From the kitchen, there’s the unmistakable clink of glass, followed by a muffled, “shit.”

Anna exhales, long-suffering. “I don’t know why I even bother buying nice things.”

“‘Oy,” Khol’s voice carries from the other room, “get in here and help. We have, like, seven things to carry.”

You take that as your cue, trailing after Anna into the kitchen. Between the three of you, it’s quick work—bowls of warm, brothy risotto in hand, glasses of white wine balanced carefully between fingers.

By the time you step back into the living room, Khol is already dropping onto the blue accent chair near the window with all the dramatics of someone who’s worked far too hard for far too little.

You settle into your usual spot, Anna beside you. You don’t touch your food. Your appetite’s still in remission, though it’s been steadily improving lately.

Khol notices. “Now, why the hell aren’t you eating?” They shoot you a side-eye like you’ve personally offended them. “I knew it. You put something in this, didn’t you?”

“Jesus, Khol,” Anna sighs, exasperated, already two spoonfuls in. “Your diet was literally gas station burritos and eight-pack Coors before I moved in. You’ll live.”

She pauses, though, casting you a look. “Don’t get me wrong—this is really good.”

“Ha,” you retort as Khol prods suspiciously at a floating mushroom. You glare. “Are you fucking kidding me–”

“Alright, alright.” With an exaggerated sigh, Khol finally takes a bite. They chew once, twice—eyes narrowed in concentration, acting like some hard-ass seasoned judge from Top Chef. You can practically see them digging for something snarky to say... until, begrudgingly, they nod.

“Shit. This is actually pretty good. Who are you?”

You preen at the praise.

For a while, there’s nothing but the quiet clinking of spoons against ceramic, the occasional satisfied hum. It’s… nice. Comfortable in a way you haven’t felt in what feels like forever.

You’ve missed this.

Missed being here. Missed being with people.

Somewhere between the second glass of wine and the last few bites of risotto, Khol angles their head toward you, their curiosity piqued. “How come you’re free today? You on leave or something?”

You swirl the drink in your hand, watching the light catch on the amber surface before answering. “Oh, I quit my job.”

There’s a beat of silence. You don’t know what reaction you were expecting, but Khol just blinks at you. "Huh. Finally."

Anna looks mildly more concerned. "You quit?"

You nod, stretching your legs out beneath the coffee table. “Yeah. The OT was getting ridiculous, and they had me working night shifts again. That was kind of the last straw for me.”

Khol grunts in agreement. “Good fucking riddance. That job was killing you.” They pause for a beat, turning serious, contemplative. “You’re not hung up about it, are you? You’ve been bitching about that job for ages.”

You exhale through your nose, staring at the rim of your glass. “Yeah, no. I’m glad I left.” The words come easily, and they’re mostly true. But still—there’s something about suddenly having all this space, this aimless in-between, that makes you antsy.

A thought strikes you, and you glance up. “Hey, you know if Marion's still looking for someone to work part-time at the bistro?”

Khol raises an eyebrow. "You looking to apply? It’s minimum wage, just telling you in advance."

"That’s fine," you assure them. "I just need something on the side. I’m doing freelance work right now, I just want something to fill in the gaps."

Anna perks up at that. "I think that’s a great idea. I can hit up Marion later, but I’m pretty sure they’re still looking."

Khol stares at you, and for once, they don’t have a quip lined up. No sharp-edged humor, no quick banter; just a quiet look of something almost foreign on their face. Pride. Maybe even relief. You’ve worried them. The realization jars you like a pebble dropped into a clear pond, sending ripples through the stillness of your self-imposed isolation. You hadn’t meant to, not really. It wasn’t like you deliberately wanted to disappear... But you did, didn’t you? You let the days blur into weeks, then months, telling yourself naively that no one would notice if you just, vanished for a while. Five months, to be exact.

You press your lips together, clearing your throat against the tightness creeping in. “Thanks,” you say, quiet but sincere. “Really.”

Khol snorts, and the moment shatters. “You can show your thanks by knocking ten percent off the cocktails when we visit.”

You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation. “Get me the job first, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Anna grins, raising her glass. “Now, that’s the spirit.”

––––

You get the job.

You stand in front of the fogged-up mirror, dragging your palm across the wet glass. The reflection that stares back is warped, smudged—half-formed, half-there—but unequivocally yours.

A month ago, you wouldn’t have been able to say that with certainty. Back then, the figure in the mirror had been more ghost than person—distant, spectral. Fractured. Someone you watched from the outside, not as a host of the flesh you inhabit.

Now, though, the pieces are starting to slot back into place. Some are still missing, and others don’t quite fit as they once did. You doubt it will ever return to how it was… But slowly, a familiar shape is coming back into focus. More than the shadow of a woman, but you. Time moves like water carving through rock; gradual, barely perceptible, but steady. Inevitable.

The shifts are diminutive. A morning where you wake up feeling less crushed by the weight of grief in your chest. An afternoon where you suddenly break into laughter, and you realize it’s the first time you’ve heard it in weeks. A quiet night where you go to bed without feeling like you’re stuck frozen in an endless loop of wishing, waiting for the impossible.

You’re here, alive. Present. And for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, you’re doing more than just holding on.

(You think he’d be proud of you.)

And the thought doesn’t leave you aching the way it used to.

––––

“You think I can handle taking care of another living thing? Like a plant?” You ask Maru, glancing at him lounging by the window, right where a sliver of afternoon sunlight spills across the floor. “I mean, I raised you well enough, I think. But you’re pretty self-sufficient anyway.” Maru looks unimpressed. His tail flicks once—dismissive, uninterested—before he returns to grooming himself, utterly indifferent to both your question and your sudden enthusiasm for gardening. “Well, if your dad can grow plants in that dungeon he calls a base, I’m sure I can manage,” you mutter unconvincingly. “How hard can it be?”

–

By the middle of the second week into your little project, you begrudgingly admit that your tiny repotted begonia isn’t exactly thriving. You don’t want to be a pessimist, but the (browning) margins seem to curl inward—more than they should, if the reference pics on that “Indoor Succulents” blog you’re subscribed to are anything to go by.

You eye it dubiously, trying to stay gung-ho about the whole thing, forcing yourself to look up care tips again. It’s just a plant. Not rocket science. So you do the research, gather more supplies, and give it another shot. You reposition it closer to where the sun lands—earning a disgruntled hiss from the sunbathing feline—and sprinkle a careful amount of water just beneath the leaves, closer to the root. Then you lean back, waiting, tapping your foot impatiently like it’s supposed to just... fix itself.

–

The next few days pass with you watching it more than you’d care to admit—checking, hoping, second-guessing yourself.

You narrow your eyes at the leaves, more russet than Inca Flame red, still hanging limp like a sad testament to your lack of skill.

But you keep at it, because you’re nothing if not stubborn.

–

A single flower has bloomed.

You stand there, spray bottle in hand, caught in quiet awe at the metallic pink sprout peeking through the foliage. It’s small, delicate, barely more than a bud, but unmistakably there—nestled among heart-shaped leaves that, for the first time in weeks, look alive. Brighter.

A faint smile tugs at your lips. It’s not groundbreaking, not by a long shot. But it’s something.

The fragile blossom clings onto dear life, stubbornly seeking the sun rays, inching toward the warmth it needs to grow—larger, stronger.

You can’t wait to bear witness to it.

––––

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up in this situation; all you could recall past the sweat blurring your vision is the memory of being in front of the reception desk, pen in hand, scrawling your name onto the sign-up sheet for beginner boxing lessons.

It’s not… something you planned on doing, really. You’d been showing up for the past week, trying to convince yourself that fitness was something you could get into. Something you could stick with. But this one’s more of an impulse decision, fueled by a mix of post-workout endorphins and the misplaced confidence that sometimes follows after an extra few—unpremeditated!—minutes on the elliptical.

It all started with a casual glance at a flyer taped to the wall beside the water dispenser.

GET TOUGHER, FASTER, STRONGER! SIGN UP NOW!

The cheesy tagline stared you down as you were in the middle of refilling your teal green AquaFlask. And for some dumb reason—sheer curiosity, definitely not because it reminded you of a certain someone—you thought: Why not?

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you’d marched straight up to the nearest staff at the counter, credit card in hand, and asked to sign up. Now, as you stare at the buff woman currently goading you to hit harder, reality sets in and you feel a little lightheaded. Even slightly delirious.

“Up, up–” your trainer urges, somehow not even remotely out of breath, despite being thirty grueling minutes into the session. Meanwhile, you’re standing there, red-faced and sweating like a fucking pig. “Keep your arms up at all times, alright?”

You pant, nodding weakly, fixing your posture. She gives you an approving nod in return.

It’s part of the whole self-improvement thing, anyway. Pushing yourself. Fitness, jazz, and all that. You’ve never had much inclination for sports or anything remotely physically taxing, as far as you can recall.

…Or maybe that decision was made for you the moment you tried out for volleyball in high school and took a spike straight to the face. A memory so humiliating, that your brain did you a favor and buried it deep in the recesses of your mind.

But things are different now! You’re trying new things. You’ve done wall climbing, aerobics, even pulled a hamstring attempting HIIT Tae Bo. And if getting punched in the face is the next step in this… wellness journey, then, well, so be it. You’ll take it with a brave face and, hopefully, minimal bruising to both body and ego.

You slog through two sets of combos and thirty jab-straight-hook-uppercuts, punching like your life depends on it. You’re wheezing like an asthmatic child, and you’re about one bad punch away from toppling over.

Then, mercifully—

“Okay, that’s enough for today.”

Oh, thank god.

“You did good,” she tacks on, flashing you an encouraging smile, like you didn’t just spend the last half hour flailing at the focus mitts with all the grace of a wrecking ball.

You stare at her, unconvinced. Did I? Because from where you’re standing—wobbling, really—you’re pretty sure you looked closer to an overstimulated toddler throwing hands with gravity, but sure. It must’ve been in the fine print, to segue in a little positive reinforcement. Probably to keep people from bolting after the first session.

Not that you’re planning to. No, of course not. You’re just... reevaluating some things. Like your life choices. And your capacity to lift your arms tomorrow. As you trudge your way out of the yoga-studio-turned-boxing-area, still gulping for air and very aware of the soreness settling into your limbs, someone calls out.

“Hey! Wait up!”

You turn your head, blinking in confusion. A guy—mid to late twenties, give or take—jogs up to you, looking offensively too fresh compared to how you feel. “Oh, hi. Sorry, do you mean me?”

He laughs as he slows to a stop, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “Yeah, you. I saw you training with Coach. Just wanted to say—you’re improving.”

You blink. Wait, what?

A wave of mortification rolls through you. Shit, you didn’t know you had an audience. “Uh—thanks, I guess?”

You shift your weight awkwardly, clutching your boxing gloves tightly against your chest.

His grin turns sheepish, as though he realizes how that might’ve come off. “Fuck, sorry. That came out weird, didn’t it? I swear, I wasn't, like, watching the whole thing or anything.” He makes a vague gesture to his left. “The studio’s right in my line of sight when I did my TRX reps. Hard not to notice.”

You force a smile. “Ah, yeah. Figures.”

“I’m Byron, by the way,” he offers, sticking out a hand.

Now that you get a proper look at him, you notice he’s got this kind of… geeky charm going for him. Curly hair, sleepy brown eyes behind round, rimless glasses, and shy boy-next-door vibes—except for the fact that he’s jacked.

(Honestly? Work.)

You give him your name, still smiling awkwardly. You’re about to wave goodbye and turn away when— “So, what are you doing later?”

Um.

You hesitate. “I’m, uh… heading straight home after this?” Your voice comes out a little more uncertain than you intended, mostly because you’re not really sure why he’s still talking to you.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he replies quickly, glancing down like he’s suddenly nervous. “I just… thought I’d ask if you’d wanna grab coffee sometime?”

Oh.

It takes a moment for the question to fully register. The first thought that pops in your head is: Wait, how does he know I’m a barista?

… The second thought is one of pure disbelief. Holy shit, did I just get asked out? At the gym? By the Temu version of Peter Parker?

Your face burns hotter than it did mid-workout, caught completely off guard.

“I—woah, um.” You stumble over your words, eyes quickly darting away from him. “Sorry, I already have… a boyfriend. If—if that’s what you’re leading up to.”

You say it like a question. He picks up on it.

“You don’t sound too convinced,” he comments with a light chuckle, shaking his head. “If you’re not interested, you can just say that, you know.”

A prickle of irritation flares up, followed by something sharper—something that stings. You push it down. “No, he’s just… not around.” “Ah.” He clicks his tongue sympathetically. “Long distance?” “…Yeah.” You have no idea.

He shrugs, undeterred. “Alright, no pressure. We could always just hang out as friends, if you want.”

I… don’t think I do. “Um, maybe?” you answer instead, forcing out a laugh.

“Oh, come on,” he says, his grin widening. “You can even introduce me to your boyfriend,” he emphasizes the word out, “when he gets back. Does he work out? We could all hit the gym together.”

Social anxiety is afraid of this man, you think belatedly. Unfortunately for him, you’re the very embodiment of what fears him.

You’re so out of your element that all you can manage is, “He boxes too, actually.”

“Yeah? He any good?”

That gets an involuntary snort out of you. Unthinkingly, you say, “Could probably beat you up.”

Byron laughs, startled but amused, shaking his head as he raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright—message received.” He flashes you a wide smile. “Well, if you change your mind about the coffee, I’ll be around.” He jerks his chin toward the pack fly by the corner. “There, usually.”

Okay, nerd. Despite yourself, you can’t help but find the whole thing slightly hilarious. Then again, you find humor in the dumbest things. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You offer him a quick, half-hearted wave, trying (and failing) to mask your embarrassment with an exaggerated, too-casual show of nonchalance. It’s so painfully awkward, you can feel yourself internally dying from the cringe of it all.

Without another word, you spin on your heel and start speed-walking away, practically running back to the safety of your personal space.

Smooth.

––––

It’s another relatively easy night at the bistro. You’re on the last two hours of your shift, and you’re carrying a single glass of roseberry mule to serve at table four. As you round the corner, you catch sight of a student, glasses perched low on her nose, completely absorbed in a thick coursebook on Programming Languages. Papers are scattered across the table, and she looks to be utterly engrossed in her readings, unaware of the world around her.

You don’t want to bother her more than necessary, about to set the drink down on the only clear space—by the iPad propped up on a tablet holder to her right—when something red catches your attention.

A familiar pair of crimson eyes stops you dead in your tracks.

For a moment, you feel like you’re suspended in time. The sharp memory of a similar instance where you’re in her place, and he’s there, keeping you company while he’s polishing a gun burns through your brain, and you don’t–you can’t think—

You stand there, rooted to the spot, wide-eyed and unmoving. Then, the girl’s gaze shifts to you, and a hot flush spreads across her cheeks, betraying her surprise.

With swift fingers, she locks the screen with a quick flick on the power button, pulling you away and breaking you from the echoes of the past.

“Oh, shit,” she giggles, a nervous edge to her voice. “That’s embarrassing.”

You shake your head, forcing yourself back to the present moment. “No—no, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle weakly, setting the drink down beside her with shaky hands. “Cute guy, honestly.”

That makes her giggle louder, her eyes bright with an almost conspiratorial glint. “Oh my god, you have no idea.”

Fuck—you can’t breathe.

––––

The night hangs thick with stifling heat, accompanied by the steady ticking of the clock as you catch your breath, your broken moans too loud in the heavy silence. The sheets cling to your feverish skin, damp and uncomfortable, as your body moves in a rhythm that feels unnatural now, but still—but always—familiar.

Your chest rises and falls in shallow, rapid breaths as you force the draconic toy deep inside you. The heat, the fire—it licks at your skin, making your whole body yearn for more. To chase more of the feeling, to chase more of the memory of him.

Errant strands of hair stick to your forehead, your chest flushed and burning, a quiet throb spreading through you with every friction, every desperate movement.

Your body aches, a relentless thrum urging you to push deeper, to find something—anything—to fill the gaping hole inside you, a wound you’ve tried to stitch shut over months, now threatening to tear its way open again, once more ripping from the seams.

A sharp pressure builds inside you. Your body stretches too far, too much, struggling to take in what it can’t quite handle. It burns in a way that hurts, but you need it. You need to feel more, to fill the emptiness, to grasp at something that feels real.

“Yours, yours–” you tremble, desperate. “Yours. Just yours. Please.”

You lie in the wake of it—pleasure fading into something heavier, regret creeping in like a shadow, waiting as always.

“I miss you,” you whisper in the dark. You always do.

You try to ignore the pull of it, the sharp descent that comes with the high.

You were doing so well.

But it’s fine. You’re fine.

Everything’s fine.

The words swirl and echo in your mind, until they’re swallowed by sounds that ring hollow. You let the moment wash over you, sinking beneath the weight of the tides, where sorrow and longing blur with the fleeting warmth of what you can’t keep.

Tomorrow will be another day. Another chance to try again.

For now, you let go of your grip on the fragile raft of sanity you’ve built, painstakingly, for months on end.

Tonight, you let yourself drown once more in the somber depths of loneliness and despair, confined within these four walls that feel—once more—like a penitentiary.

––––

The plane begins its slow descent, and through the window, the world comes into view—large swathes of land interrupted by winding roads that seem to follow no rhyme, nor pattern. A river glints faintly beneath the fading sun, while the sky turns a dull blue, a washed-out slate, streaked with the last embers of daylight.

Below, the small city stirs.

Tiny specks of color flicker to life, lanterns strung along the streets like beads on a thread, marking the season, an ending, and the inevitable turning of time. A chill hangs in the air, the wind whipping past you from the half-open window of the taxi, sharp and crisp in a way that you can only find in the province.

Your hometown.

It all rushes past in a blur of light and shadow, an eclectic mix of old and new—some buildings unchanged, others unfamiliar, as if they’d sprung up in the years you’ve been away. It’s been a while since you last came back, long enough for the roads to feel... foreign, almost. Though muscle memory stirs when the car takes a turn. One you could have easily navigated even with your eyes closed.

Only your sister lives here now, her and her family—a couple of hundred miles far. Far enough to feel like another world, yet close enough for the past to catch up the moment you lay eyes on the old two-story house tucked away on the quaint cul-de-sac of this suburban neighborhood.

The residential property was left to her, scrawled onto the title in an act of generosity, perhaps. Or maybe as a weight your mother never intended to carry, something meant to anchor her eldest child while she carved a different life for herself elsewhere. Free-spirited as she is, she left with the ease of someone shedding an old coat, slipping into the shoes of another, barely a glance over her shoulder.

But houses remember. And as you step out of the vehicle, your feet meeting the rough asphalt that once belonged to your childhood, you wonder if they remember you too.

"Maru, Maru!" Your five-year-old niece cries the moment she spots the grumpy feline peering through the mesh of his portable prison.

"What—no excitement for me too?" you tease, ruffling her hair. She giggles, scrunching up her nose.

"Auntie, hi! Hi!"

You snort at her enthusiasm, setting the carrier down. The second you pull at the zipper, Maru springs out, landing with a soft thud before stalking off with his usual air of disdain. Your niece shrieks with delight.

"Ah! Cat!"

"Well, there go the chances of her socializing with her brother," your sister remarks dryly from the doorway, sauntering closer. "Hey, stranger."

"Hey," you greet, hoisting a handful of paper bags. "Where do I dump these?"

She eyes the bags. "Any of those for me?"

"You have three kids, and one of them insisted on a Lego set. Do you know how much those cost?" You shoot her a flat look. "You’re getting socks."

"Wow, stingy." She huffs but takes some of the bags anyway, hitching one onto her hip as she grabs your other hand-carry.

You step inside, and the house greets you with a riot of lights and color. Plastic tinsel and bright string lights drape across every visible surface—along the bannister, around doorways��leaving no space untouched by the festive chaos. A Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner, nearly buried beneath an avalanche of baubles and sentimental ornaments collected over the years.

The room feels swallowed by the exuberance of it all, an almost overwhelming jamboree of holiday cheer.

It’s gaudy, excessive, and completely over-the-top, but beneath it all, the bones of your childhood home remain unchanged—familiar in a way that settles deep in your chest. The Narra wood floors are still scuffed with the marks of time, there’s still the distinct tang of turpentine mixed with waxy resin and citrus you’ve long since associated with home, and the odd decorative masks still line the far wall, their painted expressions frozen in mid-celebration.

Your eyes land on the canvas floater above the mantel—a whimsical cross-stitch of three women flying kites, their stitched dresses rippling in imagined wind. You remember it well, though you never quite understood why your mother had chosen that particular scene to painstakingly sew into existence. Still, it belongs here, another piece of the house's patchwork history.

Your gaze shifts to the couch, where Andrew, your sister's husband, is sprawled out, one arm lazily draped over the backrest, the other holding his phone.

He flicks his gaze up at you, offering a half-hearted wave before turning back to whatever has him so absorbed on the screen. Beside him, your three-year-old nephew is perched on his knees, bouncing with energy as he mirrors Bluey's movements on the TV with exaggerated enthusiasm, his tiny arms flailing in childlike glee.

You sigh inwardly, rolling your eyes. Typical.

“There’s a few more hours before dinner. Want to hang out in the kitchen while I roast the ham?” She asks casually, setting down your bags by the foot of the stairs. “Actually, scratch that—you’re in charge of the punch.”

“You just want a head start on the drinks,” you tease, the banter flowing easily between you. “Hey, where’s the little squirt?”

She points toward the small crib, near the island counter. “She finally stopped crying, thank god. Don’t wake her up, or you’ll be the one in charge of putting her back to sleep.”

The two of you slip into the kitchen, where the air already carries the promise of dinner—cloves and brown sugar blending nicely with the lingering scent of citrus. A tray of ham sits on the counter, prepped and ready, the scored surface glistening under the fluorescent light.

Your sister pulls a bottle of Luisita Oro Rum and Agimat Gin from the second-to-last cupboard and places them on the counter in front of you.

"Go ham," she quips.

You give her a flat look. "You think you’re funny.”

She shrugs, unfazed, and turns her attention back to where she’d left off before your arrival.

The two of you fall into a natural rhythm, the kind that comes from years of cooking together. You work your way through cans of Del Monte, the metallic clinks filling the space as you drain the syrup and dump chunks of mixed fruit into the large punch bowl.

Your sister leans against the counter nearby, arms folded, her gaze fixed on the oven door, as if sheer willpower alone could make the meat cook faster.

In the background, the soft drone of the TV drifts in from the living room, punctuated by your nephew’s occasional giggles.

There’s no rush, no need to fill the silence with anything more than the occasional clang of utensils against glass and the low humming of kitchen appliances. The day is winding down to a close, and for now, everything is alright.

“So, Mom called,” she says casually, one arm braced on the counter as she leans in, glancing at you. “Kept calling, actually.”

“Mm.” You reply noncommittally, shaking the last can’s contents into the crystal bowl, watching as the fruit chunks bob lazily in the pool of alcohol.

“She’s worried about you.”

You don’t answer.

“She was. She is.” Her voice shifts, more serious now. She watches you closely, noting your lack of reaction. “You know that, right?”

Your fingers tighten around the can opener, but you pull your gaze away from the bowl. “I know.”

She sighs, resigned, already familiar with this song and dance. Familiar enough to know there’s no winning this one, not tonight. Not anytime soon. “I am too.”

You blink, before looking away. “Oh.”

And maybe she does worry—your mother. But any hope of truly knowing is swallowed by the chasm between you, the one that keeps your conversations at surface level, never breaching the depths beyond.

Your body, born from hers, perhaps more alike than you realize, might have been brought into this world with the same pains that she’s carried. The pains of separation. The unresolved hurt of being unwillingly removed from your person—her former husband, your father—and that if you and your mother were closer, you could have opened up about your own situation. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t feel like a ship that has lost its ballast, drifting endlessly in the same turbulent seas for the longest time.

But you are your mother’s daughter, and she is her mother’s daughter. There is the truth that the women in your family are not the best communicators, nor do they wear their hearts on their sleeves. So you were born mute and overly sensitive. Pain drips from you, unnoticed, like a purposeless leak in the heart. You’ll carry it with you until you die.

“But you look… okay,” she observes, cocking her head. “Are you okay?”

You swallow. For the same reason you compare your mother to a storm you can't outrun and your sister to an intermittent drizzle, you find it easier to admit, “I haven’t… been okay for a while.”

Not wanting to bring the mood down, especially on a day like today, you quickly add, “Things are better now, though.”

She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “Could be a little more specific there, but I’ll take it.” She gives you an exasperatedly fond look. “You let me know if that changes anytime soon, ‘kay?”

Your lips quirk in the faintest semblance of a smile. “Yeah, okay.”

–

It’s ten minutes before midnight.

You’re leaning against the island counter that separates the kitchen from the living room, nursing a glass of the fruit punch (though it’s mostly gin, with the teensiest amount of fruit), watching your sister’s family at a distance as they eagerly wait for the clock to strike twelve. The blinds of the large living room window have been pulled up, giving an unobstructed view of the sky, ready for the first firework to light up the dark.

For a moment, you feel like an outsider, watching through a lens, as if you’re not quite part of the scene. There’s a strange sense of detachment—voyeuristic, almost—as though you're peering in on a private, intimate moment.

Your sister cradles the infant in her arms, and that all-too-familiar pang stirs to life—the same one that always does when you look at her.

You can't quite place what you're feeling, exactly. It’s tumultuous, and it’s complex. Andrew’s practically dozing off in his seat, and you see your sister shake her head in mild annoyance. Your nephew, fighting to keep his eyes open, starts to fuss.

Something tightens inside your chest.

“Andrew,” she hisses, startling the man awake. He blinks, disoriented, before spotting their son and the early signs of an explosive tantrum.

He sighs, and pulls the boy closer to him. “Hey, hey, little guy. Look at the sky. In just a couple of minutes, the lights are gonna go boom-boom.”

Your nephew sniffs, his eyes blinking up at him as he processes the words. “Boom-boom?”

“Yeah! Just like the one we watched on TV!”

The kid’s face visibly perks up at that, bad mood quickly forgotten. “Boom-boom!”

You watch as your sister’s gaze softens, and a small smile replaces the earlier frown on her face.

And in that instant, you understand.

You look at your sister and, for a brief moment, all you see is a wretched mirror of yourself. She is all of your fears, all of your failures, and all of what you could’ve been rolled into one. Barely in her mid-thirties, and yet already carrying the weight of a family: three kids, a husband who feels like a faded echo of your father—a man who didn’t quite measure up, who never did, and just as unreliable.

You feel the suffocating weight of it all, of being tied to a place that’s meant to be a home but feels more like a tomb, marking the passing of dreams unrealized. She’ll grow old here, buried in the same soil you both sprang from, fading into the landscape of this town that swallows its own.

You look at her and you almost feel the repressed pain of missing the last semester of college to give birth, the lament of a missed opportunity that life has stolen from her.

You feel her pain as if it’s yours. You feel it in the marrow of your bones—her blood flowing through you. “3…” You look at her, and it feels like seeing someone bound, held down by an anchor around her foot, unable to break through the surface of freedom. You look at her and you see dreams once aglow, reduced to cinders. You look at her and see—

She glances up at you.

Oh. “2…” In the fleeting moment where your eyes meet—eyes you two share with your mother—you feel so small.

Just a kid. Shortsighted and unfairly dismissive. Too blind to see your sister’s quiet victories, too selfish to admit you’ve diminished them just so you could feel less alone about your own failures. A child grasping for meaning, unfair in the ways only children can be. “1…” And in the fraction of a second before midnight, it's as if you’ve been doused awake.

You see her anew—what seemed like monotony is really the bedrock of stability; tenacity in place of routine. An almost single-minded doggedness to make something out of this life. You see the steadfast strength she possesses, the kind that gets her up every morning, to face the world and all its demands without question. With purpose.

You see resilience. Compassion. Traits that you’ve always lacked, that you’ve long resented, the same traits your mother never learned to embody.

And now you see your niece in her arms, born from this, and you name the indescribable feeling that dwells in you—borne from the pure look of adoration in your sister’s eyes for her youngest daughter—as envy.

You know, with utmost certainty, that she will be okay, because she has your sister as her mother, and she is so, so loved.

As you watch them, something inside you shifts—a deep, aching realization.

You see… home. Something you've always longed for but never truly found. “Happy new year!” The spell breaks. The two of you startle at the sudden eruption of fireworks, the distant chorus of car horns blaring from the streets outside.

Your niece and nephew jump and shriek, their laughter ringing through the room, celebrating something they barely understand but find joy in anyway. The baby in your sister’s arms lets out a wail at the commotion, and she is soothed instantly with murmurs of soft assurances. Her father struggles upright—then, with no small amount of effort, leans forward to press a kiss to the crown of her head.

The image before you is far from perfect, but it’s theirs.

“Auntie, auntie!” The little rascals cry out in unison, their voices overlapping in excitement. “‘appy n’year!”

A breathless, almost pained laugh escapes you. Still, you smile as you respond with your own, “happy new year!”

You’re tired—tired of running, of measuring yourself against the ghosts of your past. Tired of carrying the weight of a childhood that’s left you with more questions than answers, of making excuses for wounds that should have healed long since. You've spent so much time mourning the growing pains, the irreparable, that you never stopped to see what’s in front of you.

This moment, this realization, feels like the final missing piece in the fractured puzzle of who you are.

The new year arrives, marked by the crackle of fireworks and the loud cheer from your family.

This time, you won’t hesitate. You’ll choose to embrace the change, both good and bad, with open arms. With the quiet resolve of someone finally ready to move forward.

You lift your gaze just as a brilliant burst of red explodes into the night sky, its iridescent glow bleeding into a softer silver before fading into the dark.

A warmth settles deep in your chest—bittersweet, but steady. A quiet peace.

Happy new year, my love. . . . . . . .

. . .

The air at the threshold of Vagrant’s land is restless. Volatile. A hazy distortion ripples through it, folding and unfolding, like a lost mirage—an area of transition between worlds. Porch collapse, he calls it.

Sylus has stood here countless times, watching the way this anomalous disturbance twists the very fabric of this reality, how it flickers in and out of form, erratic. Impossible to predict.

It had taken him longer than he likes to admit to understand the phenomena for what it’s truly worth. Not just an alternate space caused by some spartan energy field. Not just any other protofield. But a thread. A connection. A door.

A fault line between realities, an entryway that hums with the possibility of you.

Since the moment the idea took hold, he had thought of little else. It has consumed him in every waking moment; his entire being seeming to bend toward a singular purpose—getting to you. He had torn through endless streams of data, followed every unstable pulse of energy, mapped its fluctuations down to the smallest inconsistency.

Nights bled into days, and days bled into weeks, until he can no longer keep track. Not that the passage of time meant much to him at this point.

He’s worked tirelessly through the stillness, through the storms of uncertainty, through the aching silence left by your absence. Ever since you’ve exchanged your temporary goodbyes.

He had measured everything he could—the unstable frequency of radio signals streaming through the interstice. He had traced the influx in real time; recording the rate of deterioration, isolating the waveform, and filtering out outside interferences.

But for all the data he gathered, for all the precision in his calculations, the core of this phenomenon remained just out of reach. His knowledge on the matter is rudimentary at most. He could waste years observing for abnormalities, trying to decipher how its presence has disrupted the very threads of this universe, but the why and how of it all will still elude him.

Still, theory matters less than function. He doesn’t need to understand the full depth of it. He only needs to harness it.

It’s a gamble.

Contrary to whatever reputation he’s earned for himself, Sylus has never been one to play his cards recklessly. He deals in certainties, in probabilities stacked in his favor, in risks that—while dangerous—are still within his grasp to control. He has never been the type to leap without knowing where he’d land.

But this is different.

He has never needed to, before. Never had a reason to throw himself into the unknown with no assurance of survival, no way to predict the outcome.

He had no reason to—until you.

Now, it matters less whether or not the odds of his survival are abysmal, that he has no precedent to follow. That your world might reject him entirely. None of it matters. Because if the choice is between staying and never reaching you, or plunging into the great, endless unknown—

He’ll take the leap, every time. Without hesitation.

He’ll leave this world behind, step beyond the edges of everything that has ever defined him, and venture into lands unseen, uncharted. Unknown. He doesn’t know what awaits him on the other side. If he’ll make it there in one piece. If he will make it there at all.

Sylus has never really questioned why he’s the anomaly in this world. The curiosities of his existence are yours to ponder. After all, he finds that he doesn’t care much of the answer as much as he cares about being with you.

Because wherever you are—that is home.

He takes a step forward, and the universe dissolves into a blinding light.

Sylus wakes to the sensation of weight.

Something presses on him heavily, sinking into his limbs like gravity itself is wrapping around him for the first time.

The ground beneath him is unfamiliar, uneven—tangible in a way he’s never felt before. His fingertips press into the damp earth, leaving the faintest imprint, yielding beneath his touch. The scent of soil rises around him; a rich, bitter brown.

This world does not recognize him, yet it cradles him like its own all the same.

Above, the sky erupts.

Fireworks split open the night, streaks of color exploding and dissipating in an instant—too fleeting to hold, too bright to ignore. A flashbang of incandescent reds and fluorescent greens, followed by bursts of crackling gold and shimmering silver scatter into tiny pinpricks before fading into the darkness.

The air is heavier here, denser in a way that feels almost… alien. It clings to the contours of his new form, seeps into his lungs with every breath.

And oh, how it burns. Not in pain, but in its sheer presence. It rushes into him not as mere oxygen but as something real. Something palpable. He’s lost in the sensation.

He exhales. Then winces.

Immediately, he feels it—the weakness. The brittleness of this new body. Gone is the invulnerability he once wielded so effortlessly, the certainty that nothing could touch him unless he allowed it.

That certainty is gone now, stripped away the moment he crossed the threshold.

He is flesh and bone. Finite. Mortal.

A lesser man might have feared it.

But in the middle of this empty field, miles away from civilization, Sylus can only laugh.

He tips his head back, reeling from the sheer impossibility of it all, eyes tracing the brilliant display above—as if committing it to memory, a coronation of sorts. Of existence. Of arrival. Of a life finally his own.

Reborn. And for the first time in his existence, he is alive.

––––

It’s summer—the summer that marks two years since he left.

Two years. It’s enough time to feel the weight of it, but not enough to make the events feel like something that happened a lifetime ago.

The seasons cycle once more, as they always do, pushing time forward with a steady, indifferent rhythm. And with that change comes a familiar pang—a bittersweet ache, neither grief nor regret, just the weight of knowing that nothing stays the same. Mono no aware.

You’re closer to thirty now, and the thought doesn’t terrify you as much as it did before. Your hair’s in a pixie cut—short and sleek, although the edges are a little ragged from the half-assed trimming you gave it a few days ago.

It would have made you feel stupid, once upon a time, for trying out something drastic for a new look. Instead, you just take it for what it is—one more thing you did because you wanted to. Like the rest of the choices you’ve made over the past two years. It’s yours. Uneven, impulsive, maybe a little questionable. But yours.

It’s liberating. Even if it makes your head look like a pencil.

The voice—the one that picks at your face, your body, your thoughts, everything down to the last imperfection—never really shuts up. It’s quieter now, easier to ignore, but it still lurks in the background, waiting for an opening, a moment of weakness. Maybe it always will. Maybe that’s just the price of being human.

But you don’t fight it anymore. You don’t let it drag you down to a breaking point. You carry yourself differently now, you'd say. No pep in your step just yet, but you don’t feel the need to drag your heels either. Literally and figuratively.

The change has come in waves—sometimes gentle, sometimes harsh—but it’s there, marking you, marking the passage of time. Just like the earth, just like the seasons, you’ve shifted and grown. And perhaps that’s enough.

The sky is ablaze now, a deepening canvas of pinks and purples as the sun sinks lazily to the west. The fiery orange light spills through the large windows, bleeding into every corner of the room, and the world outside seems to slow, caught in the hour before dusk.

You’re behind the counter, wiping down plates with the kind of ease that comes from repetition, the motion so ingrained in you that it barely registers anymore. It’s all routine—the rhythm of it, the quiet hum of the bistro, the clinking of porcelain. The air is thick with the sticky smell of warm pastries, and it’s the sort of evening that feels almost liminal. A moment suspended in time.

You hear the soft tinkling of the door chimes, signaling the arrival of another customer.

It’s a soft, unassuming sound, barely noticeable against the evening lull. You swipe your hands across your apron, turning on instinct, your mouth already forming the usual greeting.

“Hi, welcome to—”

The words die in your throat.

It’s a slow unfolding—almost a gradual realization that stretches across the seconds like the last rays of sun dipping beneath the horizon. He stands in the doorway, a figure outlined in gold, and his presence fills the space between you, no barrier that separates, and it feels... impossible. Unimaginable. Inevitable.

His height is the first thing you notice. He’s taller than you expected, and you know he’ll tower over you, even at a distance. His hair is dark now, the color of midnight, almost—not the silver you once traced with your fingers in your mind. The cut is still similar to what you’ve always known it to be, though a little more unkempt, as if he’s lived in this body long enough for it to take on its own wear.

Then his eyes. The red is gone—no longer the shade of crimson that used to see right through you, those sanguine pools you once loved. In its place, a stormy grey, deep and impossibly expressive, pulling you in like an undertow. The color is striking, alien in its own way, yet there’s a warmth buried beneath it—and the familiarity of it tugs at you.

Even with the changes, even though you’ve never met the person standing in front of you, you’ll know him anywhere.

There’s a shift in the room, a subtle, yet unmistakable change in the air. It’s as if the whole bistro has drawn in a breath—and you with it. Time stretches thin, each passing second expanding into what feels like an eternity.

Your eyes lock—and for a moment, nothing else exists.

It’s as if the world has shifted off its axis. Or, perhaps more accurately, it’s as though a piece that’s always been missing has finally snapped into place.

Something settles in you, something foreign and indescribably familiar at the same time.

Sylus smiles.

“Hello, my love. Have I kept you waiting?”

It feels like home.

____

“Now I found myself this kind of love, I can't believe it I'll never leave it behind I thought I'd never get to feel another fucking feeling But I feel— This love, this love, this love Oh, I feel it.”

End A/N: So this is done! Wow! I'm kind of proud of myself for writing something this long in the span of, idk, three months? Basically, the entire duration of my "vacation" back home. Now with another term and a busier schedule coming up, I really wanted to finish this series before life catches up to me. *sobs* Anyway, I'm so, so happy about the reception of this fic, and you've all been so sweet :') Again, thank you for reading! I'll see you in the spin-off, or whatever shit I put out next haha <3 Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy @touya-apologist @gladiolus-mamacitia @btszn @wrimaira

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #sylus x non mc reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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a-hermit-pining · 1 month ago

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LaDs Men React to Your Different Hobbies

Request: Hi hermit! I noticed your requests are open and wanted to ask if you could write about a reader who is a complete nerd for something specific. It could be anything from anime, to reptiles, to astronomy, to novels, to literature, anything really. Maybe they start off more reserved and quiet but once they get comfortable they let the floodgates open and now the guys get to witness the pure, unfiltered joy when they talk about something they love. Bonus if they don’t necessarily seem like the type to be interested in that sort of thing. I just need something cute and fluffy where angst isn’t destroying my heart. It can be as silly and/or serious as you want it to be. You handle writing different scenarios so well I feel like you are the best when it comes to these kinds of scenarios. I hope this isn’t too big of an ask. Thank you for reading this! I hope you take care of yourself and that you have a good day/night! 🫶🫶🫶💞💞💞🍀🍀🍀

AN: I love this request so much!! I've been daydreaming of this so much. So here is my attempt at this. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for reading my works :))))

Pairing: LaDS boys x gn reader

Genre: people in love

Ingredients: 100% fluff

My Fav: Sylus and Caleb. My heart 🥺

(I do not own any of these characters)

Xavier:

He’s your reader boyfriend. You’re the gamer. He’s just here for the vibes.

He’ll nuzzle next to you while you curse ten generations of a 14-year-old with suspicious aim.

Just peacefully flipping through a romance novel as you become the ultimate baddie of Vice City.

You can convert him to join you on the Switch. He loves Pokémon Go, Mario Kart, even those ridiculous farming simulators.

He’s that one PewDiePie cooking simulator video come to life.

Xavier is most likely to doze off with his legs crossed over yours, your moans of despair functioning as peaceful white noise.

You build him a castle in Minecraft, but he’s honestly more content just watching you game, cheering softly from the sidelines.

Rafayel:

You were born to repurpose.

A ratty old ladder? Planter. Scrap cloth? Braided technicolor rugs. Crumbling grandma furniture from eBay? It’s now a “boho-chic” nightstand that Rafayel lovingly uses to pile all seventeen of his earrings.

You steal his paints constantly. The good ones. The ones labeled in French. Does he mind? Not even a little. He calls it “collaboration.” (It’s theft, but okay.)

He watches you work like it’s the Louvre. Which is wild, because you’re in overalls, sanding down what used to be someone’s broken cabinet-slash-pet coffin.

You’ve got sawdust in your hair and paint on your ear, and Rafayel is just standing there, in awe, like you’re building the Sistine Chapel out of literal garbage.

You’re also slowly “Rafayel-proofing” the penthouse, one corner at a time. No more stubbed toes. No more nightly opera of him cursing the furniture like it personally betrayed him.

You call it DIY. He calls it love.

Perhaps it is.

Zayne:

You don’t have a green thumb. You have a green vendetta.

Zayne swears the plants grow out of fear. And honestly? He might be right.

The sunflowers outside your house are seven feet tall and actively reaching for the second-floor window like they want in. The neighbors have started calling it a local attraction.

He’s the one lathering you in sunscreen as you stand armed and ready to wage war on a new army of weeds.

He works from the patio more these days, just to sneak glances of you in the garden, sweat on your brow, yelling at a tomato plant like it is a new recruit to your battalion.

You plant a vegetable patch. A blessing, really. Because Zayne is an absolute wizard in the kitchen with fresh produce.

He’s obsessed with homegrown ingredients. You’re obsessed with terrorizing invasive species.

It works.

Sylus:

"You're pretty," you murmur, tilting his chin up with your fingers. "Now be good and sit still for me, dragon." You grin as Sylus shakes his head, pretending that didn’t just work on him.

You pick up your sketchpad, charcoal already smudging your fingertips, and begin tracing the outline of his eyes. Fierce, yet soft when they rest on you.

"Did I ever tell you your eyes are the most beautiful I’ve ever sketched?" you murmur, shading the lashes with a flick of your wrist.

"You say that about everything, kitten," Sylus replies smoothly, though there’s a hitch in his breath.

You love this. Overwhelming him with affection. Praise. Backing him into a corner where all he can do is take it. He never wins.

"And your cheekbones..." you say, smudging a shadow across the apple of his cheek. "So dramatic. So sketchable." You press a kiss there, just to prove your point.

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You don’t resist.

Your eyes drift to his lips. "These," you whisper, eyes locked on his mouth, "I dare not draw. They’d inspire passions in anyone who might stumble upon this page."

He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed, cheeks flushed. "You’ll be the end of me," Sylus groans softly. His voice all gravel and silk.

And you? You smile, smug and starry-eyed.

Because you’re Basil to his Dorian.

Caleb:

He’s lost you. Again.

Caleb wanders through the mind-boggling bookstore for the tenth time, the aisles blurring together. There’s no rhyme or reason why the classics are right next to cookbooks.

Achilles’ Fig Pastries and Twenty Cakes for Jane Austen Girlies (he bought that one for you).

So it’s no surprise when he finds you in the far-off corner of historical fiction. A pile of used books already half your height sits beside you. Books are your world. Rooms full of them. Brimming nightstands, stacked floors. Stories, so many of them.

Caleb grew up watching you devour them. Any and every book you could get your hands on. "You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope... I have loved none but you," you quote from Wentworth’s letter, just in time to meet Caleb’s eyes.

He pauses, heart in his throat. Words written by another shouldn’t hit this hard. But they’re true. Truer than anything.

Books have held your pining. They’ve understood your heart. And they’ve delivered it to him, in folded pages, tearstained stanzas, and scribbled notes of passion.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace headcannon #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #caleb x reader #love and deepspace reaction #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #gn reader #fluff

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shawtuzi · 7 months ago

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request: ‘Can you please write a Toji x (blk)fem reader smut but she like one of those earthy girls with all the waist chains/beads and he like obsessed with her style and all the jewelry she wears. boho/earthy girls don’t get enough love.’

i hear you anon and i see you so here you go <333

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: drug usage (weed), oral m receiving, unprotected sex, riding, slight pussyjob, toji likes her sm so a lot of praise, PUSSYDRUNK TOJI!!!, sex outdoors (no one can see them hehe), creampie, an ‘i like you’ confession bc i’ve been watching a lot of rom coms lately///not proofread sorry :(

‘it’s a lot of lust not a lot of love’

you hummed along to the song as you made out with toji, your tongue swirling against his. your bracelets jangled against your wrist as you tugged on his soft locs, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you did so. “slow down toji, s’no rush,” you mumbled against his lips, teeth biting down the tiniest bit on his bottom lip.

toji tried to distract himself by toying with your waist beads, but it just wasn’t working. between the two blunts you both shared, along with a couple sips of wine—courtesy of you, there was just no way you expected him to be in his right mind enough for him to go slow. “i don’t want to go slow though,” he groaned, grabbing a handful of your ass over your skirt.

you kissed your teeth, now pulling away from the pouting man. you pushed him down against the blanket you had crocheted yourself, your hands now resting on his pecs. “you’re so impatient you know that? need my pussy that bad hm?” you giggled cocking your head to the side. toji gulped, his eyes finding it hard to stay locked on yours. eye contact with you was always so intense.

“yes….yes i am impatient and yes i need your pussy that bad.”

you smiled at his words, now leaning down to give him a slow kiss. you kissed your way down his jaw, to his neck, and finally down his chest. “damn….you got this worked up over a little kissing?” you teased, cupping toji over his jeans, earning a deep groan from him. toji didn’t respond, instead he just gave you the finger, too fucked out already to even come up with a proper comeback.

toji hissed when he felt you finally undo the button to his jeans, his leaking dick now free from its confinements. “go slow m’feelin’ a little sensitive,” toji grumbled and all you did was laugh, taking his throbbing dick in your hands. you gave the tip a soft squeeze, licking your lips. “now you wanna go slow? that’s funny,” you snickered, bringing his dick to your mouth, suckling the tip softly.

you ran your tip along the underside of his dick, fighting the urge to laugh again when you felt toji buck his hips up. toji wanted so badly to just push your head down, but you had just gotten your hair done a few days prior and he’d hate to cause you any discomfort. it was your first time getting passion twists and he was absolutely enamored with the way you looked with them.

“deeper—please go deeper y/n,” toji finally lifted his head up, now making eye contact with you but he reallyyyyy wishes he hadn’t. the way you were looking at him with those low, red eyes; eyelashes fluttering shut each time you took more of him in your mouth had him wanting to bust right then and there. toji felt his face flush, cheeks burning hot at the way you looked at him like he was the most precious thing to ever grace this earth—which in his opinion he wasn’t, far from it honestly.

toji’s eyes rolled back when he felt his dick hit the back of your right throat. “mmph fuck yeah—that’s that shit,” he groaned, bringing his hand to rest on the crown of your head. he didn’t grip it or apply any pressure, he just sat there and let you do what do best—suck the soul outta him.

the wind began to pick up, giving toji’s flaming cheeks a nice breeze to cool off. you made him so…so…beside himself. i mean for god sakes you had him fucking in the middle of a field of flowers, blazed out of his mind—it’s safe to say the grip you had on him was the most annoying shit ever.

“keep sucking me like that baby, f-fuck, take it deeper. be a good girl and take it deeper f’me,” you listened without protest, taking the last few inches of him in your mouth. toji was beyond fucked out, praises flying past his lips left n right and it only egged you on to turn him into even bigger pile of mush than he already was.

you pulled off of his dick with lewd pop! now paying attention to his swollen balls. toji’s body jerked, his heavy hand gripping onto your shoulder. “w—hah! w-wait y/n,” toji hissed, his jaw clenching impossibly tight. you lifted your head up, puffing air through your cheeks.

“i’m sorry i—”

“just shush toji.”

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before crawling up toji’s body, your lower half hovering over his twitching dick. you pushed toji down gently by his shoulders, humming to yourself at just how damn good he looked beneath you.

“you’re fuckin’ unreal,” toji sounded damn near breathless as he said it, his chest puffing up with each deep breath. his hand reached up to tug down your olive green, cropped tube top; his rough hands immediately latching onto your breasts.

“you really mean that or you jus’ fucked up?” you knew he meant it with all his heart, you just wanted to hear him say it. you blindly reached for the end of your skirt, tugging the soft material up your thighs. just as you pressed your panty clad pussy against toji’s dick he whispered the three words ‘i mean it’ in your ear, his teeth nibbling at your lobe.

the words ‘i like you’ were sitting so heavy on his tongue but he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you how he felt.

toji—a grown ass thirty four year old man who’s literally served time in the slammer was scared to tell you, a twenty something year old woman who was the literal embodiment of a fawn how he felt about you. what a joke.

“what are you thinking about?” you spoke softly, running your thumb over the stubble on toji’s jaw. toji shook his head, bringing his rough hands to your petal soft love handles.

“s’nothin.”

“liar.”

“i said it’s nothing.”

your breath hitched, mouth dropping open slightly at the feeling of toji’s dick pressed against your bare pussy. he felt so hot and soft against you and toji could certainly say the same thing about you. with one harsh tug toji ripped your thong off, tossing the semi soaked material to the side. you rlly should’ve known better with that one—toji hates whenever things are in his way.

“you’re such a liar toji,” your laugh was breathless as you began to slowly grind your pussy against toji’s dick. he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, his brows furrowing in annoyance but mostly pleasure. he was already so close it was so fucking embarrassing. pre dripped from his throbbing tip and onto his clenching abs, creating an even bigger mess between the two of you.

toji bucked his up, puffing air through his cheeks to silently tell you he was more than ready for you. you gave him a small smile, your tooth gems glistening in the afternoon sun. “can i confess something toji?” you asked, lifting yourself up to balance your weight on your feet. you grabbed toji’s dick, swiping his tip between your folds before slowly inserting it.

you both gasped in unison, toji’s eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that enveloped his cock. “w-what do you need to confess you fu—hucking brat,” he growled, his fingernails digging in the soft flesh of your thighs. in one swift movement you sat all the down, toji’s balls now pressed snugly against your backside.

“i really, really like hanging out with you toji,” your voice was a little high pitched, rightfully so because you practically feel the trembling man below you in your stomach. you pressed your hands against toji’s chest, bouncing on his dick like your life depended on it.

you brushed a stray hair out of toji’s face, cradling his jaw in your palm that still smelled of the shea butter you applied before your outing. “you like hanging out with me too toji? you like me?” your tone was coming off a tad desperate but you could’ve cared less. toji’s adam’s apple bobbed, a pathetic whine bubbling in his throat.

“yes.”

“yes what?”

toji wrapped his arms around your waist, his feet planting into the ground before fucking up into you. “yes i fucking l-like you y/n, could you not—shit! fucking tell? jesus christ your pussy is so good,” toji couldn’t help the drool that slipped past his lips, it was impossible to keep his mouth shut at this point. your hands found themselves in toji’s hair, tugging roughly at the soft strands.

“i knew you did i just wanted to hear you say it. i like you too toji.”

i like you too toji.

toji halted his movements, his dick now in you to the hilt. you suddenly felt a warm sensation in your lower half and knew immediately that toji was in the process of cumming. you circled your hips as best as you could, milking him for all he was worth.

“hah f-fucking shit i can’t stop fucking cumminggg,” he groaned, burying his face in your sweet smelling neck; the scent of vanilla and caramel had him feeling more dizzy than he already was.

after giving toji a few minutes to catch his breath you sat up, his dick still sheathed inside of you. “look how messy,” you spread your lips, giving toji a mouthwatering view of your overly stuffed pussy. toji licked his lips, reaching over to down the rest of the wine that was in your abandoned glass.

“lemme clean you up.”

#this was very fun to write hehe #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji x black reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x black reader #jjk toji #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jjk x black reader

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songmingisthighs · 10 months ago

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Baby Baby

group : ateez

pairing : alpha!san × human mate!reader

genre : smut

wc : 3.4 k

warning : mature, mdni, explicit smut; restraints, cumming untouched, rut, breeding kink (breeding need more like), lactation kink, slight cum play and cum eating, both san and mc are being degenerate pain slut mayhaps ?, unprotected sex, alpha sex, rut sex, knotting, degradation ??, don't read if you don't like or can't stand this genre

a/n : this fic is brought to you by @kitten4sannie GOADING me. I wholeheartedly blame you alyssa. whatever happens after this, blame alyssa

buy me coffee ?

You came rushing to the pack house with your baby tucked in her little blanket, sleeping so soundly like an angel which was an utter contrast to the situation that you were facing. You had been rushing so much that you changed into a flimsy shirt and a long boho-esque skirt. You were barely at the front door and yet you could hear the sound of your husband's screams, filling the silence in the air, and making the whole area seem haunted.

Upon entry, you were greeted by Seonghwa who immediately took your little princess in his arms and Yeosang who welcomed you. "How bad is it?" you asked, taking your coat before handing it over along with your bag to Yeosang. Hongjoong came rounding from the kitchen upon hearing you and from the look on his face, you knew this was a bad one. "(y/n), are you sure you want to handle him?" Hongjoong asked, worriedly looking between you and your sleeping daughter, whose fluffy wolf ears twitched at the sound of the commotion but remained in her slumber. You simply shrugged, "He's my husband, this is nothing I haven't experienced before," you said as you tried to push past Hongjoong to go to the basement. Before you could go past him, he held you back and made you look at him, "This is unlike his previous ruts, (y/n). He's... He's going over the rails and it's triggered by you giving birth," he explained. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, "But I gave birth like a long time ago. For fuck's sake, we're close to Hyemi's first birthday." With arms raised, Hongjoong could only shrug, "All I know is that the doctor told us that this is like an anti-postpartum depression. He's more aggressive, more needy, and frankly his sexual stamina is beyond anything I've ever seen and he was already a nutjob in that department."

Hearing Hongjoong's explanation made your heartbeat increase both from worry but also from... excitement? You knew what San is capable of and you knew the others knew as well. So for Hongjoong to be so concerned, you could only imagine what the extent of San's state is like.

After kissing your daughter on the forehead and allowing Seonghwa to take her over to the hunting cabin so she would be away from all the noise, you marched down to the basement only to see a sight that made you gasp.

Under the moonlight and a single lightbulb near the door, San, your dear husband, was shirtless and his limbs were restrained by metal chains that ran from the corners of one side of the wall. You wanted to ask why he was put in such a state but when you closed the door, you had seen how the small window that allows people to peek in was shattered on the ground and the handle on the door was bent, flattened even. You couldn't explain why that made you wet and you felt like you couldn't fixate on that considering the situation. But the sight of the shambled surrounding was not as surprising as seeing San staring, or glaring, at you, straining against the chains so hard that his veins were popping.

"Honey, I knew that was you. I could smell you from the moment you stepped out of the car," San shuddered, eyes glazing and his fists clenching, "Have you come for me, pretty? You came for your alpha didn't you?" he chuckled darkly. You swallowed nervously but San knew that you were aroused seeing him with his shirtless, glistening chest and very very tight jeans, especially with a VERY distracting protrusion in the dark patch in his crotch. No matter how much you had been with San, the sight of him half naked and so animalistic always made you blush. "Honey, I'm so thirsty," San whimpered and as if it was an automatic trigger, you abandoned your position and rushed to San, cupping his face gently only to gasp at how feverish he felt, "Oh sweetie, you're burning up! I'll go get you some water." You were about to detach away from him but he growled and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you stand still in your spot. "I am thirsty but not for that, my love. I'm thirsty for you."

Slowly, you felt San's head turn and he let out a shaky exhale that made tingles ran down your spine. Your eyes fluttered close when San's tongue joined in to lick your skin around your neck almost strategically pressing into your weak points which made your knees buckled and since San didn't have his freedom, you had to cling onto his body. The proximity made San smirk against your skin because now he was able to grind into your core, allowing you to feel how wet and hard he had become. "F-fuck, Sannie-" "Can you feel that? Can you feel how hard I am? I've been waiting for you mama and I can't take it anymore. Do you know how many times I've cum in my pants? Do you know how many times my cum has been wasted? I could've been breeding you over and over, make you a mommy again because fuck, we did such a great job with the first one," San panted heavily into your ear as he winced from pain and need, "Love, I need to put another baby in you, I want to put a baby in you."

Your mind was in such a hazy state because his body's warmth was luring you in like a faux safety net but the way he was humping your leg with his cock that seemed to be engorged due to both arousal and his heat. "Sannie, baby, y-your cock-" "It's asking for you, mama. It wants you. Please, please, please, let it bury itself inside your sweet sweet cunt and breed it with another pup. It's been so long and it hurts, it hurts so good," His words were like melted butter in your ears, absolutely making you weak and you were sure that your panties were effectively ruined with your slick but also from the way San was rubbing his jeans-clad crotch onto you. You couldn't deny the increasing need- no, want for him. It HAD been some time since you got intimate all thanks to your baby girl. You and he had been so focused on taking care of her and letting your body heal that the most you two have done was letting San suck on your tits while dry-humping you. So you two were stuck in a hard situation. Literally.

In your state of utter oblivion, you somehow managed to refocus yourself enough to look at the way San was straining. He had been whispering pleas and sweet nothings, buttering you up to let him relieve his rut on you, you missed the way he was straining so hard that you swore he was so close to breaking the restraints like they were made of popsicle sticks.

"Poor baby," San's mouth stopped its work on your skin the moment you replied coherently, "You've been waiting for me for so long, haven't you? Settling for minuscule action while I got better, you took such good care of me... Alpha." You had to suppress a moan when you felt San's cock twitch as his hip ground harder into your crotch, accidentally stimulating your clit against the barrier. "Yes, yes, yes, baby, I will take such good care of you. You saw how much of a great husband I could be with our first, imagine me with our second. So please, please let me out of this misery and let me fuck another baby into you."

Cursing, you pushed away from San slightly and took off your shirt before dropping down to kneel in front of his crotch. San watched you with keen eyes as your hands deftly moved to release him from his confines. The moment his cock was freed, you saw it bob before it stood straight up, slapping him right on his stomach, his residual cum smearing and splattering from the impact, some even landed on your cheek but you couldn't care. How could you care when your husband's cock was staring at you almost tauntingly? You swore his cock was larger than you remembered. The tip, a shade of angry red, and his balls seemed full of cum.

"Fuck, alpha, you're going to break me," you breathed.

Though unintentional, your breath hit his stiff cock and before you could react, San came untouched. Spurts of his cum hit you on your face making you gasp in surprise. "Fuck!" San grunted as he rode off his high, allowing his balls to empty out yet again. The amount of cum that San let out was astonishing as it seem almost endless. It made you imagine San shooting that much cum when he finished inside you. Just from the looks of it, you knew that that climax you and San will soon share would be sloppy and messy and you can't wait. Your cunt clenching with anticipation.

"Fuck, baby, why did you have to tease me like that, you slut? You just had to goad your alpha knowing that he's in restraints, huh? You really think you could take advantage of the situation I'm in huh?" San growled, snapping his hips forward so that his cock slapped you in the mouth, smearing his fresh cum around as if to mark and humiliate you. "Sorry alpha, I didn't mean to. I was just so... Amazed with your cock, I just wanna..." You trailed off as your lips slowly enveloped the hard appendage. The moment your wam mouth made contact with San's cock, he immediately almost lost control. Your tongue was caressing his cock all around so good that his hips started moving, grounding itself against your mouth as if it was addicted to you just as much as you were addicted to tasting San again. It was hard, and it wasn't just the stiffness of the cock, but his engorged size trying to stuff itself inside your mouth was almost too much. Your jaw was hurting but the pain was too delicious, you were struggling but you wanted more of it, you wanted it wholly and you wanted it so bad. San's hips made it hard for you to lick the cum clean from his dick but you made do with what you can. "Look at my mate. My pretty, pretty mate, so fucking beautiful and so fucking needy for her alpha," San's tongue darted out to lick his chapped bottom lip and as he did, he could almost taste you in the air, "And look at you being so needy," he chuckled darkly, seeing the way your hips sway back and forth and then around as if to look for friction for your very empty cunt. "Can't wait to fill you up, baby. Can't wait to pound that sweet pussy once again," he moaned.

Hearing him so needy for you, you couldn't help but let out a whimper and immediately scrambled up. "You want to fill me up, alpha? I'll give you what you want," you grabbed the edges of your skirt and hiked it up so you could easily took your panties off and fling it across the room. With his senses heightened, the smell of your free cunt made San's eyes roll to the back of his head and his hips gyrate in your direction. "Come on, come on, come on mama, stop torturing me and let me fuck you so good and so deep, your tummy would bulge out. I'm gonna make sure you'll get good and pregnant"

You couldn't even get properly and wholly naked as you were just that desperate and needy for San. So with one edge of your skirt still hiked, you hooked your left leg around his strong right thigh and your right hand reached under to slip his tip right at your entrance. "I'm ready alpha, I'm ready for you to take me and fill me up," you panted, pressing your forehead against his while you prepared yourself mentally to take his cock inside you. San rolled his hip once and his bulbous tip slipped inside you so easily thanks to your arousal, his residual cum, and your spit, mixing together creating the perfect lubricant. "Oh fuck," you whimpered, your arms circling around San's neck so tightly, catching him in a vice grip, "You're s-so big, t-too big!" you gasped the more it slipped inside you.

San was faring no better. Having gone through the first night of his rut by himself and flooding his mind with the thought and memories of your cunt, he was going through 10 emotions all at once because he finally got to feel the real deal. Being chest-to-chest with San allowed you to feel his heart beating so hard and quick you were afraid that it would break out of his ribcage. However, your worry about him breaking something was misplaced because while you were trying to slowly get yourself ready to take him whole inch by inch, San's patience snapped. His wolf was crying out to breed you and he deemed that he needed more and he needed it right then and there.

"San! Oh my- Fuck!!" You screeched when San bottomed out inside you with one smooth move. Your arms held onto him tighter while his thighs trembled, the pleasure was overwhelming him, almost sending his head to an empty state. "Baby, my love, my mate, thank you for giving your body to me."

You weren't even accustomed to him just yet but he had started fucking you with such fervor that it took everything in you to keep your mental faculties intact and held onto him for dear life. For the life of you, you couldn't even begin to think about how San managed to fuck you even with his limbs restrained but even such thought easily slipped from your mind as all other coherent mental processes were getting fucked out of you. "A-alpha please!" you weren't sure what you were pleading for because while it hurt, the pain was too pleasurable and you truly believed that you would have gone insane had he pulled back. Not that you think he could. When you pulled away slightly, you saw the way San was staring at you with dilated pupils, his eyes even seemingly turned into a shade of gold though you were not so sure due to the dimness of the room and your body being shaken up and down like a shaker. You could feel it, you could feel his cock deep inside you. The movement allowed him to go deeper and deeper, and you were sure that his tip was coaxing your cervix to open ever so slowly as evidenced by the dull probing feeling in your lower belly area. Even the thought of his cock prying you open to accommodate his agenda made your head feel like it was swimming.

Pleasure coursed through your body almost to the maximum extent within minutes but you held on, you wanted to hold on for your husband. "Fuck, I miss this," San growled, chuckling darkly, "How did I manage to not fuck you every night? It was wrong of me to let you experience even one day without being my little cumdump, my fleshlight, my most precious little doll toy." The way he reduced you to nothing but a plaything made your cunt clench, causing San's movement to halt and his breath hitch. "Honey, don't do that, I might cum too soon," he said through gritted teeth. You moaned and dropped your head back, exposing your neck to your husband, "And is that such a bad thing, love? Come on, cum in me, you promised to fill me up so full, right?"

The encouragement effectively pushed San's inner wolf to completely take over because the next thing you know, San ripped the right cup of your bra off, exposing your breast and your perked nipple before latching his mouth on it and he resumed his fucking. Not many words were exchanged between the two of you, all sorts of communication was in the form of moans, groans, and grunts. Especially you, who was up on cloud 9 from both penetrating and sucking stimulation. San was fucking you stupid while his mouth was feasting on your breastmilk. You took a peek down to see white dribbling down San's chin a bit too calmly while his hips never stopped their work on your cunt. The intensity of the pleasure sent you reeling and you could feel you were teetering on the edge of a climax. Your limbs contorted around San even tighter so much so that you were practically floating, two bodies being supported by one and at this moment you were very much glad that San's animalistic side had taken over perhaps completely.

"F-fuck, San! Sannie! Alpha! I-I-" You wanted to tell him that you were cumming but the words were stuck in your throat. San, too preoccupied with the taste of you on his tongue, didn't bother answering but he simply bit down on your breast. The sharp pain caused you to let your control slip and then and there you came undone. Your body shook as you climaxed, your jaw unhinged and you let out a loud cry while your cunt unknowingly let out spurts of clear liquid.

San always loved it when you climaxed because your scent became more powerful and your body writhed about that sent his animalistic side into a frenzy as it paralleled his high when he caught a prey; so pliant, so submissive, so... helpless. Your orgasm served to only goad San even more as he never stopped his movement, never even faltering for a single beat. "Yes, we're so close, baby, so close," San smirked after gulping down your milk. His sharp canine dragged on your sternum in a menacing way that made it even hotter for some reason. You were already so spent and to be frank, the constant friction was becoming almost too much. Your legs were starting to cramp and your arms were slowly going numb. As glad as you were for cumming, knew you couldn't handle another one so soon, especially when you felt his knot forming.

"Alpha, alpha! Cum in me p-please! I- I can't take it anymore!" you whined, gripping him so hard that his back bore the red streaks of your nails that dug into his skin. "Yes, mama, yes. I'll cum in you, I'm cumming in you, fuck! I'm gonna get you nice and pregnant!" San announced loudly before his hips stuttered once more and his mouth latched back onto your breast. Along with his teeth digging into your soft flesh, you felt warm liquid being spurted out directly into your womb, filling you rather quickly and your mind floated back to the amount of cum San had let out not even too long ago. San's cum and knot were filling you up so stupidly good that you didn't even have any more energy to scream so you simply dropped your head onto his shoulder. Your senses were filled with San experiencing his true release after holding back for so long.

San happily sucked more of your milk, ensuring that your breast would be drained and very darkly marked, while he happily let his knot rest inside you.

Although you were still being stimulated, your body was slowly calming down and it was then did your muscles felt the after effect. Soreness started to settle in your joints and parts of your limbs but your husband's warmth was making things up for you, like a very large heating pad.

"Alpha, I'm so full," you croaked, closing your eyes when you felt San also calming down even if it was temporary. "You were so good, my mate. I'm so proud of my little mama being able to take all of that," he praised, letting his lips trail kisses from your chest, up your neck, to your cheeks, and settle to nibble on your earlobe. "But you know that this night had just begun."

Your eyes snapped open when you heard loud clanking sounds and you immediately took notice of the way the chains that were holding San's limbs were so easily broken and in a flash, you were put on the floor with San hovering over you.

"How about we try for twins this time?"

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vampzity · 3 months ago

Note

Hi I have a request it's ok if you don't do it but I was wondering if you could do a blurb of how the skz members react to you feeling insecure about your body a slight chubby reader idk why these fics make me feel so ahhhh comfortable

skz members reacting to your insecurities

pairing: ot8 stray kids x chubby! reader

word count: 2.1k

💌: this was such a cute ask! as a curvy girl myself this truly gave me some good comfort 🥹 & creds to my pookie @lov3yv4mps for helping me with some of these ideas hehe ^^

bangchan:

you guys were like peas in a pod. in love with each other’s insecurity’s while hating your own. no matter how many times chan was hard on himself, he went out of his way to make sure you never felt that way. you always felt self conscious about your body, and if you even fit well as his girlfriend. chan was a gym freak— always working out, dead lifting weights like it was nothing and, keeping himself well in shape. he wasn’t skinny as he put on some good muscle mass, but you couldn’t help feeling out of place.

“is something troubling you angel?”

you’d brush him off, trying to hide how unappealing you’ve been feeling every time you looked in the mirror. your thighs constantly felt too big, your cheeks too chubby to compare to the preferred chiseled jawline. you couldn’t even wear tight clothes without feeling disgusting. chan noticed this— seeing that the once cute boho style you loved to wear, suddenly turned into boyish wear. the casual baggy hoodie with sweatpants. it was unusual for you.

he came up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as you stared in the mirror. a slight frown pulling at your cheeks as your eyes wandered aimlessly around the bathing suit you wore. his hands wrapped around your waist, poking your tummy softly. he kissed your cheek, smiling at the figure he adored seeing.

“you’re beautiful.” he started, pulling your body to face him and not the mirror.

“you don’t need to be skinny to prove that. i love you just the way you are.”

lee know:

lino made it a tradition to take you out to dinner every friday, making sure you dressed in only your best for the occasion. he loved to see the way your curves hugged your dress, giving him a rush at his attractive it was. the only issue was that you didn’t feel the same way. you hated how tight the dress felt, how suffocating it was against your skin. you stared at your heels as you dreaded putting them on, knowing that your feet would just hurt by the end of the night. you didn’t feel like they were made for you. made for curvier people at least. you couldn’t help but frown, slouching in disappointment as he walked into the room expecting you to be ready.

“hey, you ok?”

you remained silent, refusing to meet his concerned eyes as he entered the room. he walked over to you but your eyes remained glued to the floor, watching his shoes stop below you. his hand slipped under your chin, lifting it to where he could see you face to face. lino placed a soft kiss against your forehead, kneeling on the floor to grab your heels. he carefully slipped them into your feet, not saying a word as he wanted to show you his love through action.

“you look stunning as always in this dress. i’ll keep telling you until it sticks.” he watched your hesitant expression, coming up to sit by you. he smiled softly, his reassurance giving you a sense of peace within yourself.

“but if you would like to wear something that makes you more comfortable, i’m more than okay with that too.”

changbin:

“have you ever gotten comments on your body, binnie?”

changbin nodded, his eyes focused on the tv as he flipped through the endless channels. “all the time. they never really stop.” silence engulfed the two of you as you sat there beside him, your thoughts eating away at you.

well who wouldn’t comment on such a nice body like his?

the silence became awkward, prompting changbin to look over at you for a few seconds. he noticed you picking at the skin of your lips, a clear indication of your nervousness kicking into overdrive. he put the remote down, his hand resting atop your thigh. he gave it a slight squeeze, making you break contact with the tv to look at him. his dark gaze made you red, the amount of pure lust and romance pooling into them making you squeamish. his thumb caressed your skin softly as he gave you a warm smile.

“i don’t only get good comments love.” he frowned slightly, turning his gaze away from you and resting his head against your shoulder. “i get bad ones too— saying im too big or I don’t have the right height for big muscle mass.” he sighed to himself, his hand giving your thighs gentle squeeze. “but i wont let them believe they’re right.. because if i do, it means i believe it too.”

you rested your head against his, placing your hand ontop of his own. he was right. your biggest enemy was his you viewed yourself— if you thought you were fat or ugly, others would believe it as much as you do. you sighed, nodding your head in agreement as your hands intertwined.

“and besides, i believe that you’ll always be perfect in my eyes.” he lifted his head to meet your eyes. “so if you don’t believe in yourself, know that i do, yeah?”

hyunjin:

you sat in the chair anxiously, squirming consistently as you tried to be as still as possible for hyunjin. you looked over at him, seeing how engrossed he was in his drawing as he looked at you every few seconds.

“i can’t get the perfect picture if you keep squirming baby.”

you nodded, forcing yourself to keep still. except you couldn’t help but subconsciously move your arms in front of you. you felt disgusted by your figure— not wanting to be seen, not wanting to be put on display for everyone else to see. your eyes were facing the ground at this point, your mind clouded with countless thoughts of negativity.

hyunjin set his things down, walking over to you. he placed his hand under your chin, lifting your head up to meet his concerned eyes. he kissed your forehead softly, offering you a small reassuring smile.

“you know i’m drawing you because you’re a beauty right?”

you didn’t answer, but you felt your face heat up at his words. he pulled you up from the chair, bringing you to his work space and grabbing the portrait. he held it up to you, taking a quick glance himself before looking back at you. a smile crept onto your face. you never though you’d see your body drawn in this way— the emphasis on your curves, on the parts of your body that you were most insecure of. the soft rolls on the sides of you. he captured every detail you hated and somehow turned it into a different point of view that you never had.

“now you can see yourself from my eyes. from my point of view.”

han:

you were always a huge stickler about yourself, specifically your own body. anytime that you had the chance, you’d find a reason to nitpick even the littlest thing about your own body. han knew this, and his patience was over the roof about it. he knew these kinds of things were normal, as he has the same issues himself from time to time. but he always went out of his way to make sure you knew you were beautiful.

“i think you look perfect as always!”

he’d give you the most reassuring smile, his gums showing through his lips as you stood outside the fitting room. your biggest thing was trying things on— as you knew the mirrors were meant to make you look slimmer than you were. it’s why you never tried things on at the store, but han insisted. “i wanna help you pick clothes out.” he said.

you rolled your eyes annoyingly, doing a small twirl as he motioned his fingers for you to. his face flushed red as he admired the way each outfit hugged your curves just snuggly. he was practically struggling to keep the blood from rushing elsewhere.

a slimmer girl walked out the fitting room with the same dress on, looking a million times better than you felt you were. you looked down at your outfit, shrugging your shoulders as you felt slightly suffocated. han noticed this, walking up to you and lifting your head to meet his eyes.

“stop comparing yourself to others angel.” he pulled the gem of the dress out a bit, admiring the dress outfit in you once more. “you look even better than they do in this.”

felix:

he laid next to you, kissing your plump cheeks softly as he held you close. you felt your face heat up slightly, feeling his arm shake around your waist. you paused his hand, pushing it away quickly and covering your waist with out arm.

“hm? did i do something?”

you shook your head immediately, turning away from him in the bed and staring at the empty wall. felix sighed to himself, attempting to snake your arm around you once more time only to be stopped by you. felix furrowed his eyebrows, sitting up in the bed and watching as you struggled to pull the blanket over you.

“i don’t want you touching me. i know it’s not appealing.” felix sighed, pulling you up to sit in front of him. his hand caressed your cheek, pinching it softly. he brought his other hand up to your face, squishing your cheeks and then squishing his own. you laughed at his gesture, feeling him rest his palms against your thighs. you looked away from his soft gaze, not wanting to face him and he was okay with that.

“you’re blind me with your beauty, what could i possibly hate?” his lips pressed against your check, delivering small amounts of kisses to it.

“No matter what you say or what you do, even how you look can change my perception of you. you are perfect in my eyes.”

seungmin:

he stood in the kitchen, stirring the bowl of fruits together as you grabbed the cool whip from the fridge. he made sure to add all of your favorites and his own, not caring if there were favorite fruits neither of you liked. you sat at the island table, plopping the container on the counter as you slumped in the chair.

as much as you hide it, you knew it was just as easy for seungmin to point out when you were down about your body. he didn’t like to bug you about it, nor give you reassurance that you may not be looking for. a simple gesture was enough for you to know he cared, to know he appreciated you just the way you were. he’d wrap his arms around you, giving you a firm but tight squeeze while his chin rested atop your head. and everytime you would melt under his warmth, his touch.

“you know i don’t care about your looks right? that’s not at all why im with you.”

if he felt even the slightest bit of hesitation from you, he’d poke your cheek and give you a small smile. you looked away shyly, feeling his fingers intertwine with your own.

“you are as amazing outside as you are inside. we all have our moments, but i’ll remind you everyday that you are beautiful.”

jeongin:

jeongin held up one of his sweaters to you, his head poking out just slightly from above as he displayed it to you. you tiled your head; it was cute, but it wouldn’t really give you the baggy boyfriend feel that you badly craved. at least you assumed so. he noticed your hesitant response, his arms dropping as he knelt in front of you.

“how many time do i have to tell you angel?”

he grabbed the sweater, putting it over your hand pulling it down softly so he didn’t hit you. he adjusted the wrinkles and the strings to the hoodie, taking a step back. he held his hands out as if he was looking at you through an frame, nodding i approval

“see. i know what i doing!” he looked up at you, seeing that you were avoiding eye contact purposely. he knelt back down in front of you so your eyes could meet his. he titled his head at you, resting his hands in your lap.

“baby. look at me.” you did exactly as you were told, feeling small out of embarrassment. his smile was huge, his cheeks nearly covering his eyes. he laughed to himself and admired you in his sweater.

“i don’t care if even my smallest clothes don’t fit you, i like seeing you wear my things.” he winked at you for a moment. “This includes my sweaters.

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#—♡vampzity #—♡︎vamp’s soft hours #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #bangchan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

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dilfstarr · 18 days ago

Text

Connie x Zoro x black fem reader

꒰𝜗𝜚꒱a/n: ngl, not my best work but oh well. this could be read as a stand alone, but more of them are here.

꒰𝜗𝜚꒱warning: brat-ish!reader, poly relationship[m + f + m], oral[m], mean!zoro, softdom!connie, free use?, raw sex[zont zo it], hair pulling, spanking

The deafening roar of the lawnmower echoed throughout the spacious summer sky. His gloved hands pushed and pulled at the heavy machine to get the perfect vertical lawn stripes.

Connie is completely shirtless—tattoos of all shapes, sizes, and colors decorated his tanned back and chest. His torso glistened from sweat—shining brighter than the setting sun.

His black shorts were loosely fitted around his waist, and hung dangerously low from the weight of his phone in his pocket. He gave the neighborhood a full glimpse of his slightly wavy happy trail and almost what the trail led to. The navy Yankee cap he wore didn’t shade his face what so ever, as it was worn backwards. Taking a pause, he swiped his hand across his forehead to collect dripping sweat.

He’s been out there since you left, slaving under the blazing sun to tidy up the front lawn. Who would’ve thought that grass being overgrown by two centimeters was a violation? Fucking HOA.

He was finishing the last few rows before you pulled into the driveway wildly—almost taking the mailbox down with your wide turns.

Muffled music quits abruptly as you killed the car engine. Your eyes drift towards the glazed donut lookalike—if you weren’t in an acute state of panic, you’d definitely drool.

Aside from him being a whore for the whole world to see, Connie being outside when you arrived home was not on your bingo card. He was supposed to be inside, playing the game—being lazy on his day off.

How the fuck were you supposed to sneak numerous of bags out your car, and past your soldier of a boyfriend? You pondered in your vehicle for a plan B—heart racing erratically with every scenario, and possible outcome flowing throughout your brain.

Con lurked from a distance, rightfully concerned when your car door didn’t open as soon as you parked. Why would you want to sit in that hot ass car in the middle of summer? He watched you from his peripheral, but not for long as the sky turned a darker peach. Having to finish before nightfall, he continued his doings—dragging the ear-splitting cutting machine down the yard.

You pondered for a few more seconds before you settled on a solution; take the bags and race inside. Yes. Taking the opportunity, you put your plan into action.

Looking over one last time to make sure he’s truly not watching, you jump out of the vehicle and make a run for it towards the tail end. You pressed the key fob repeatedly like it would help open the trunk any faster. Three bags were hanging on your arms before plan: try to expeditiously take the mountains of shopping bags inside without your boyfriend seeing went….wrong.

You should’ve known better—you didn’t even hear the lawnmower shut off so how the hell did he get next to you so fast?

His hot body towered over you from behind. Panicking, you try to close the trunk but he prevented it, holding it open by his lonesome. The tote bags that you had in your possession fell lifeless across the concrete—spilling clothes over the driveway.

“Princess, you said you had a hair appointment. The fuck is all this?”

With his hand holding the door open, the other swam through the bags. He tugged at the handles—shifting them around forcefully to get a glimpse at the logos.

“I did have a hair appointment!” Your manicured finger pointed to your head to highlight your new hairstyle.

“Wanna see?”

You took a step backwards and gave a playful twirl—your copper colored boho braids curling flawlessly down your back. You kept your movements stiff as your scalp was still sore, but you hope he got the gist.

The scowl that sculpted his face was priceless—you obviously thought this was a joke. He stood up straight, watching you do that dumbass turn with his hand still kept the trunk open.

“Isn’t it soooo pretty? I think I should’ve gotten it longer. Whatcha think?”

“I think we said not to buy expensive shit without negotiatin’—specially’ splurgin’. But, I could be wrong.”

“…Right.”

The ends of your hair became a distraction—twirling in between your fingers. You couldn’t justify your actions with Con staring a hole through your skull so your eyes avoided his—focusing on the ends of your braids.

“How much did you spend princess?”

His grip on your trunk loosened before his hands fell to his sides. Knowing you didn’t respond well when you were talked to aggressively, his tone was flat. The time you took hesitating, was enough time for him to pick up the forgotten bags off of the driveway—throwing them carelessly back in the car.

You didn’t need another HOA complaint.

The sound of your pet name gave you reassurance—he couldn’t be that mad. Rocking on your heels, you find your voice. You hesitate before replying in a mere whisper, “About….fiiivve..hundred.”

His eyes widened drastically.

“How the hell did you spend five hundred fuckin’ dollars in under four hours? You were told specifically not to stop anywhere—to get your hair done and come straight back home.”

To further emphasize his seriousness, he used his hands to direct his words. His yelling wasn’t as loud as it was in a hushed whisper. You avoided his gaze as he lectured you. Since you were clearly in the wrong, it was best to keep your responses to a minimum.

“…My bad”

“How-” His tone came off harsher than he intended, so he gave himself a deep breath before restarting more calmly. “How did this happen?”

During your hair appointment, Pinterest was your best friend. You browsed throughout the whole session, looking for outfit inspo for your new hairstyle. Knowing how online shopping is with the misleading sizes and overpriced shipping, you decided to stop at the mall to see if you could potentially find dupes. Safe to say you found that and more.

Explaining yourself only made things worse so you didn’t even know why he asked. His face was frozen in annoyance. Whenever they gave you an inch, you couldn’t wait to make it a two miles. That’s why they are hesitant to hand over their card in the first place—especially when you’re unsupervised.

His fingers pitched at the bridge of his sweaty nose while the other one sat comfortably on his hip.

“Y’know I’m gonna tell Pa, right?”

“Huh?”

Your heart dropped to your baby pink painted toenails—eyes growing in panic. Connie was always lenient with you. Letting you go with a warning—at most, a slap on the wrist. It was Zoro that put fear in your heart. He was ruthless, mean, assertive.

“If you can Huh, you can hear.”

“Wha- why? Con, can’t this stay between us? Please?”

You pleaded hysterically for him to consider leaving the third party out—even throwing in the pout that melts his heart. While you tried to bargain, his face twisted in confusion. His hands dropped from his nose—did you just ask why?

“Why? Because you spent five hundred dollars on bullshit. Then you were tryin’ to sneak that shit past me. No, it can’t stay between us princess. Sorry.”

If he was sorry, he would keep it between you two.

“Con…daddy please. I can take it back. I promise.”

“It’s the principle.”

You know you weren’t getting past him when he no longer used your pet name, but your actual name. Your words died down in your throat when you realized he wasn’t changing his mind. Doe eyes found the curly ends of your hair—this time with much more sadness.

He sighed, heavy hands placed your slouched shoulders—trying to reassure you.

“I advise you go upstairs, and start stretchin’. Y’know Pa been annoyed since Sanji came back to work.

The boiling hot water splashed against his tensing muscles. His eyes were closed—chin pointed to the ceiling. Hot liquid splashed along his mile long scar than ran across his chest to his stomach.

Connie stood behind him—lathering up the dark blue loofa with Native eucalyptus mint body wash. He started off at Zoro’s left shoulder, then his right—rubbing tight weighted circles into his skin to wash the day away.

“Nothin’ too hard Pa. Y’know how she gets when you’re too rough.”

Con’s voice was low, but loud enough to hear over the running water. Zoro almost took it into consideration, before giving gave a sarcastic grunt, “Well she should’ve thought of that when she wanted to spend my money on stupid shit.”

Connie was now washing Zo’s full back. White soap suds littered across his back like albino sprinkles. He winced softly from his boyfriend scrubbing a little too hard against his skin.

“She still have all of the receipts. We can jus’ take it back.”

The loofa was handed to Zoro from behind so he could wash his front. Turning around to rinse the soap suds from his back, he faced Connie who had worry written all over his face.

“Nah, She can keep it. She just has to work for it. If she can disobey, she can take the consequences. You have to stop being so soft on her baby. She has you wrapped around her finger.”

When Zoro had his mind made up, it was difficult to persuade him, which led Springer to ultimately give in. Con agreed with a nod.

“Seventy dollars on fuckin’ makeup.” Zoro scoffed and shook his head in disbelief as he reminisced on the list of recipes. “That could’ve been dog food for Chopper. She better be lucky Connie, I swear.”

“Well, when we’re done with her, I bet she’ll think twice before doin’ this shit again.”

Your cheek was planted—no, squashed, against the brick wall you called Zoro’s stomach. His legs were spread wide so you were somewhat comfortable on top of him.

The abandoned cock that’s drenched in your spit throbbed against your hardened nipple and lower neck. Drool seeped out of your gaped lips—pooling onto Zoro’s abs.

“D-daddy! S’too..mu—ch!”

Your moaned words sounded so pathetic against his skin. Zoro gave a hearty laugh, causing your head to lightly dribble on his abdomen.

“Don’t start that whinin’ shit mama, we barely started.”

In an effort to comfort you, his rough hand caressed your head—shifting any braids that could potentially get coated in spit.

You wish you could stop whining, but the raging thrust given to you by Con, made it impossible to please Zoro without taking breaks in between to mewl. Your body rocked forcefully—up and down Zo’s hard abs. Manicured fingers were balled up tightly next Zoro’s hips—not moving an inch, as one of your punishments of the night were no touching.

Your cream colored juices coated Con’s length completely—with a prominent white ring circling at the base. He watched in amazement at how your pussy hugged him every time he pulled back; those kegel exercises are doing you justice.

Once he noticed the insane grip of your tight cunt, he also noticed how much more wet you became overtime—gosh he loved how you get so turned on while giving head.

He made the mistake of looking up—finding your pleading doe eyes already looking at him. You looked confused as your eyebrows were turned upward. Your bottom lip was dripping with saliva, with a thin web connecting to Zoro’s twitching shaft.

Speaking of Zoro, his gaze was also on Connie. His plump bottom lip was wet from it previously being tucked between his teeth. With his eyes low with and filled with lust, he gave a nod of encouragement to his buzzed cut boyfriend.

Oh fuck.

One, two, three throbs to his dick before he slowed down to a stop. He needed some type of distraction to keep him from nutting so soon, and since you were being punished, he had to go to the next best thing.

“I need—fuck! I need a kiss Zo!”

Connie was breathless as he spoke. Beads of sweat formed on the hairline of his green buzzcut. He had a death grip on your hips to prevent you from throwing back ass he couldn’t catch at the moment.

“C’mere then. I can’t move—mama’s on me.”

He gave a quick nod of understanding. The feeling of him pushing his cock all the way in to reach Zoro had your mouth held ajar—speechless at first, before a particularly long deep moan left your lips.

“Fuuuh—Da..ddy! S’deep!”

Your body was now trapped between a rock and a hard place as they made out. From what you heard, the kiss was sloppy. Their tongues swirled around as they explored each other’s mouths. The sound of lips smacking, groaning, and heavy breathing filled the stuffy bedroom. At some point, Connie’s hand tangled in Zoro’s hair and gave it a tug—earning a groan from the sudden pain.

You felt Zo’s hips rock against your chest—becoming needer for some kind of stimulation. Connie stayed parked deep inside you, with his hand gripping your hip, preventing you of any movement. You began to mewl slightly—rocking your hips side to side with the little space you had, to relieve some pressure.

��Mmgghfuuck!”

Airy cussing was moaned into Zoro’s open mouth. Hearing his boyfriend mewl caused his dick to twitch more frequently against your chest.

“You sound so sexy, Con.”

His praise was followed by a quick smack to Con’s ass which led him to push his hips further into you.

“I caaaan’t any—more!”

Your thighs began to shake from the overwhelming pressure of his cock being so deep—Zoro was the first to point it out.

“She’s shakin’ baby. You feel it?” He whispered words were spoken against his boyfriend’s lips.

Connie nodded. “Course I do. S-she’s squeezin’ the fuck outta me.”

Zoro gave a breathless laugh—concluding his kiss with a bite to his boyfriend’s bottom lip as he pulled away.

Your back became cooler and lighter once Connie is no longer putting his weight on it. He pulls out a smidge and you’re are able to catch your breath for a second. In the midst of you collecting yourself, a sharp stinging pain occurs in the middle of your head.

Zoro took a handful of your freshly done braids in a makeshift ponytail to lift your head up. A loud yelp left your lips before you were suddenly muffled by his spit covered dick being lodged back down your throat.

“Juuuuust like t-thaaat mama. Don’t forget about Pa now.”

You moaned around his cock head—sending vibrations to his core, causing him to tense up under you. He whispered cusses into the air as he rolled your head in half circles.

He planted his feet on the bed and picked up the pace—using your wet mouth as his personal fleshlight. Zo’s thrusts were the alternative of his buzz cut boyfriend’s. When Con pulled out, Zoro touched your esophagus—when Zoro pulled out, Con was kissing your cervix.

You were just being used.

And It felt like they were on cloud nine.

At one point, he took his spit soaked dick and slapped it against your twitching tongue—plat plat plat before he’s pushing his way back down your tight warm throat.

“You suck better w-when you know you’re in trouble. Shit!”

His balls slapped tapped against your awaiting tongue as you stuck it out when he throat fucked you. Your hands ran up his thighs before giving it a squeeze. You know he said no touching, but he was so far gone he didn’t even notice.

After Connie’s mini break session, he was back at it like a crack addict. Mirroring his boyfriend, Con’s foot was also planted on the bed. His eyes were low and focused on the beautiful man in front of him. A telepathic conversation happened between the couple, causing both of them to grin. Unbeknownst to you, they had one last trick up their sleeve.

They both pull out of you— then the feeling of Con easing his full length completely inside of you made you cry out once more. Zoro let you have your moment, before pushing himself in the deeps of your throat. They both held their positions and waited.

“She’s s’fuckin tight right now.”

“M’gonna nuuut pa!”

You unintentionally started to squeeze around them simultaneously—not only were you contracting your throat muscles with each gag, but the rhythmic pulsating walls brought them both to higher peaks.

Could you guess who got there first?

ʚɞ

#x black reader #anime x black!reader #aot x black reader #connie springer #connie x black reader #connie smut #aot connie #zoro x black reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece x black!reader

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avocado-writing · 10 months ago

Note

Hello there dear! If you are still taking requests how would you feel about writing something for logan x reader x wade, where reader gets between them while they're arguing/in a fight and gets hurt by accident? And how they would react to that.

Totally fine if you don't like the idea. Thank you for giving us all these lovely works!

It’s hard to know which one of them started it. Probably Wade. It’s usually Wade, saying something stupid or offhand which irritates Logan into a physical reaction. But occasionally Logan forgets to mind his mouth, especially when he’s had a couple of drinks, and then they’re just at each other’s throats with knives and claws.

They have gotten better to be fair. Calmer. More adjusted to living in the same space, being together all the time. Plus you beg - beg - them not to fight in the apartment, there just isn’t enough room for it.

To their credit they only get into fisticuffs at Wade’s place. Your home, with your boho throws and favourite posters, has remained unscathed. It is Switzerland in this damn war of testosterone.

You’ve had Wade’s spare key forever now, he even got you a little unlicensed Deadpool charm to put on it, and you have your headphones in when you open the door. The sound of 80s rock covers up the noise of carnage inside, and that is why you’re so totally unprepared when the bottle comes flying at you.

It does not hit you to be fair. It shatters on the doorframe, showering you in glass. You gasp. From where Logan has Wade in a headlock and Wade is trying to stab his way out, your boys freeze. Clearly Wade tried to bottle him, Logan swatted it away, and the situation at hand was created. A beat passes as you try and recover from what’s happened, and you feel a small trickle of blood run down to your jaw from your cheek.

You rip the headphones from your ears, more angry than you’ve ever been. Their faces drop.

“Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me, you two?! I’ve asked you not to fight because of shit exactly like this!”

You use the plain of your hand to wipe your face and grimace when it comes back red. This seems to break the two of them out of their stupor and your boys are immediately on their feet.

“Fuck, pookie, we’re sorry—” Wade says, at the same time Logan starts, “Baby, we didn’t mean to—”

You hold up your bloodied hand in the universal sign for them to stop. They do, like a pair of trained dogs.

“Fuck this shit. I’m done,” you snarl, because if you don’t rev up the anger you know you’ll start to cry. Tears are starting to prickle in the corner of your eyes. Before either of them can say anything you’ve turned on your heel and left the building.

When you’re home, a glass of Sauvignon blanc deep and with a band aid on your cheekbone, you realise you didn’t really mean it. You’re not “done”. Done with their squabbling, maybe, and done with the situation in that moment, but not done done. You should probably call Wade up and apologise to them both, but honestly you’re still sort of angry at the whole scenario.

You shove a handful of Cheetos in your mouth and stab the play button on the remote, sinking into the sofa as the next episode of Grey’s Anatomy plays, determined to be distracted in any way possible… when there’s a knock at the door.

When you open it of course it’s them. They look like repentant schoolboys. Logan’s holding half a dozen boxes from your favourite pizza place, Wade has a bottle of wine with a ribbon tied around the neck. There’s a tag on it. It says “we’re sorry :(“ with a little doodle of them both in Wade’s hand.

You soften. How could you not?

“We fucked up, we know!” he says quickly, anticipating that you might slam the door on him. “We’re sorry. Isn’t that right, peanut?”

“Yeah,” Logan sighs, remarkably accepting of the nickname when he’s grovelling to you. You drum your fingers on the doorknob. “Sorry you’ve got a couple of knuckleheads as partners, honey.”

Knuckleheads. That about sums them up. What a cute word, though; you forget how adorable they can both be, when they’re not trying to kill each other.

“Did you get the mozzarella sticks?” you ask, nodding at the pile of food. Wade grins. He knows they’ve won.

“Two portions, honey.”

“Hmm, okay. You can come in.”

They do and you shut the door behind them. Wade wastes no time in heading to your glass cabinet and decanting a drink for each of you, Logan clearing your coffee table so he can unpack the pizza. He grabs a slice of pepperoni as you sit down between the two of them, ready to imbibe.

“We really are fucking sorry. Seriously, pookie, we won’t do it again,” Wade reiterates as he pushes a drink into your hand. You hum.

“I know. I’m fucking serious though, boys. I’m done with your squabbles. Next time you wanna go at each other, one of you leave the room and take a walk around the block to cool down. Even if you don’t want to, think of me and do it anyway. Okay?”

“Okay,” Wade agrees quickly before looking at Logan with intent. The older man sighs.

“Okay,” he agrees, hand on your knee in acceptance, “anything for you. Sorry again, bub.”

You squeak as Wade reaches over to press a kiss against the band-aid on your cheek.

“What are you doing?!”

“Making it better.” His kiss lands on your lips this time. He tastes of grease. Must have sneaked a piece of garlic bread on the way up, cheeky bastard. You feel Logan’s hands slip around your waist.

“Mmm, boys, the pizza…”

“Can be reheated. God gave us microwaves so that we could give you orgasms,” says Wade, happily, “or we can feed you mozzarella while we eat you out, your choice.”

You look at Logan for his opinion on the matter and he shrugs.

“Sounds good to me.”

You grin, and the pizza grows cold.

Taglist: @falsewordz@malfoys-demigod@belilwen@mildly-salted@tvwebs@childeslegstrap@getmeoutofhell@s1eep-o@just-a-beatlemaniac69@yrthr@momopad@sugarplumz100@captainjinkx@madspads@acrosstheunivcrse@yeethaw13@na-is-salty@florduarte@hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

#my writing #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #x men x reader #logan howlett imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #wolverine fanfiction #mcu fandom #Deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader

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nanamincreampie · 11 days ago

Text

That's What Got You Pregnant

Streamer!Suguru Geto x Black pregnant reader

Context: Your streamer husband is still loves staring at your ass even during your pregnancy (inspired by this)

Contains: Domestic fluff

The rhythmic boing of the yoga ball echoed gently through your shared office. The soft latex surface flexed under your weight as you bounced steadily, thighs working overtime while your round belly swayed with each motion. At 32 weeks pregnant, this was your go-to for easing back pain and getting a little movement in without doing too much.

You looked good, and you knew it.

Leggings hugged your thick thighs and wide hips like they were made for your body alone, the stretchy waistband under your bump. The charcoal gray workout sweater you wore was unzipped halfway, letting your baby belly breathe. Your dark skin glowed in the soft ring light you’d set up behind the camera, and your long boho braids, freshly done, swayed along your shoulders and back.

You had your phone set up on a tripod across the room, angled perfectly to capture the full scene: you bouncing on your yoga ball behind your husband, Suguru, who was live on stream mid-Call Of Duty match, shirtless as always and deep in his zone.

“Got ‘em. Bro, don’t ever rush me like that again,” Suguru muttered into his mic, a grin tugging at his lips. “I’m built different.”

He didn’t know you were filming. Not for content, not for the world. Just for yourself. You’d been documenting your pregnancy in quiet little snippets, and tonight you felt beautiful. Plush and glowing. You wanted to remember this feeling, this version of you.

Then it happened.

You didn’t even notice when Suguru glanced away from his screen.

His head turned just slightly enough to catch the motion behind him.

The bounce. The ass. The curve of your hips and thighs jiggling with each soft bounce on the ball. The shine of your braids. The way your sweater hugged the top of your bump while your leggings clung to everything below.

His game could’ve ended right there, and he wouldn’t have noticed.

You caught his gaze on the camera screen and smirked to yourself, still bouncing subtly, smooth, as if you didn’t just catch your husband in 4K thirsting over you on livestream.

“You look good, baby,” Suguru said out loud, a little too casually.

His mic was still on.

The chat fell into silence. Then rolled into chaos.

He blinked.

“…Wait,” Suguru said, finally noticing the phone on the tripod. “You recording this?”

You gave him that smile, soft, sweet, amused, while staying silent, still bouncing, braids swaying, belly gently moving with each rise and fall.

He squinted, clearly realizing he was being documented.

“Damn,” he muttered. “My bad. I was starin’ at your ass.”

You immediately burst out laughing, your laugh loud and full, shoulders bouncing right along with your belly. You nearly rolled off the yoga ball, hand flying to your side as you gasped between giggles.

The chat exploded.

"NAH HE SAID WHAT HE SAID 😭" "AND HE’S RIGHT" "YALL SEE HOW SHE LOOK THO??" "THAT’S WIFE ENERGY" "GETO AINT NEVER COMIN BACK FROM THIS ONE"

Suguru glanced at the screen, then back at you, clearly flustered but trying to play it cool. “What? Like I’m not allowed to admire the woman who got me losin’ sleep over her ass since we were nineteen?”

You wheezed.

“Suguru!” you gasped, tears in your eyes from laughing.

He leaned back in his chair, finally surrendering to the moment, mic still on, headset slightly askew, his entire attention now fully on you. Not the game. Not the chat.

You.

“That’s what got you pregnant,” he said with a shrug, as if he were simply stating facts.

You nearly collapsed laughing all over again, wobbling on the yoga ball as you clutched your bump.

“That is not how it happened,” you choked out.

He raised a brow. “Was it not that same ass, those same leggings, this same bouncin’ that got me kicked off stream three months ago?”

You went speechless. Face hot. Belly shaking. Boho braids swinging as you shook your head at your husband.

Suguru looked dead into the camera now, all smug confidence and no regrets.

“I’d like the record to show,” he said to the chat, “I ain’t even sorry.”

Later that night, when you finally got the video off your tripod and onto your private camera roll, you sat on the couch replaying it while Suguru walked back into the living room with a bowl of ice cream and two spoons.

“You said all that on live?” you teased, licking your lips as you played the part where he muttered "my bad, I was starin' at your ass."

He shrugged, sitting beside you and scooping a bite of your favorite flavor. “They needed to know.”

“Know what?”

“That you're fine as hell.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, one hand instinctively resting over your belly, the other offering you the spoon.

“Still,” you grinned, “you’re lucky I am pregnant or I’d be bouncin’ on something else tonight.”

Suguru froze.

Then grinned.

“…Bet.”

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r0seb100d · 7 months ago

Text

౨ৎMasterlist౨ৎ

Fics

Dallas Winston x reader hiding in abandoned church

Dallas Winston x reader fluff

Dallas Winston x actress reader

Dallas Winston x reader who had a bad day - fluff

Dallas Winston x reader - first time - smut

Dallas Winston x reader - comforting him - fluff

Dallas Winston x theatre reader

Dallas Winston x best friend reader cuddling - smut

Dallas Winston x soc reader

Dallas Winston x reader starring in a southern gothic film

Dallas Winston x reader meeting at the rodeo

Dallas Winston x reader - talking through head - smut

Dallas Winston x 60s/70s boho reader meet

Rusty-James x reader - he missed her - smut

Rusty-James x reader- platonic comfort after Motorcycle Boy's death

Jack Duncan x sweetheart reader - fluff

Series

Dallas Winston x motel owner’s daughter

Dallas Winston x motel owner’s daughter intro

Dallas Winston x motel owner's daughter playlist

Motel owner’s daughter reader aesthetic

Dallas Winston x motel owner’s daughter - almost caught - smut

Preacher’s daughter au reader aesthetic

Dallas Winston x Preacher’s daughter reader moodboard

Headcannons

Dallas Winston x soc volleyball player reader

Dallas Winston x coquette/Alison Dilaurentis reader

Jack Duncan impressing reader

Moodboards

Dallas Winston x reader

Dallas Winston x reader hiding in abandoned church

Dallas Winston x reader at a cute diner

Dallas Winston x reader cherries and cigarettes

Dallas Winston x Coraline reader

Dallas Winston x reader

Dallas Winston x 60s 70s boho reader

Dallas Winston x reader vintage aesthetic

Tex Mccormick x reader

Tex Mccormick x reader 2

Tex McCormick x reader I love my country boy

Rusty-James x whimsigoth reader

Rusty-James girl

Jack Duncan x reader

Jack Duncan x oc

Song inspired

Dallas Winston - young and beautiful

Dallas Winston x reader - Ethel Cain Crush

Dallas Winston x reader - Ethel Cain Crush pt2

Dallas Winston x reader - Ethel Cain Thoroughfare

Dallas Winston x reader - Lana Del Rey Driving in Cars With Boys

Dallas Winston x reader - Lana Del Rey Music to Watch Boys to

Dallas Winston x reader - Ethel Cain A House in Nebraska

Dallas Winston x reader - Lana Del Rey Diet Mountain Dew

Dallas Winston x reader - Lana Del Rey Tough

Matt Dillon x reader - Lana Del Rey American

Matt Dillon x reader - Lana Del Rey Million dollar man

Matt Dillon x reader - Lana Del Rey Playing dangerous

Jack Duncan x reader - Lana Del Rey Lucky ones

Bob Hughes x reader - Lana Del Rey Dangerous girl

J.C Cullen x reader - Lana Del Rey Off to the Races

‘Jack’ The House that Jack Built x reader - Lana Del Rey Sweet Serial Killer

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thebluediner · 3 months ago

Note

Fluffy, sexy, funny, cute moments that shows Billie’s reaction every time reader changes her hair (i.e. boho braids, faux locs, sew in, wig, box braids, or knotless braids)

a/n: I've actually made this request to a writer and i don't remember them doing it so basically this is a " write the fanfic you wanna read" moment. Also for readers the pictures below are not a face claim but examples to those who may not know these hairstyles. I hope you like it anony

➺boho braids

you came back at about five pm back home after a long day at the salon. you were sat there for a couple of hours because when you think back you probably got there at nine am in the morning. you left billie eating breakfast on the counter with her bed hair still evident and sleep still hovering above her.

when you came through the door billie immediately jumped of the couch and charged towards the door to meet you. now billie wouldn't say she had low expectations but they weren't as high either so when she saw you her jaw dropped to the damn floor.

" baby what the hell you look so good" she said walking towards you her eyes tracing over your new hairstyle .shark and brutus were amazed too as they reached up to you wagging their tails.

"thank you my love " you blushed a huge smile forming as you looked down to the two dogs wanting your attention.

" no baby I don't think you understand me . you look like a goddess especially with these beads in, what?" billie exclaims still speechless before reaching out to hug you.

"I'm glad you think so baby but I'm so tired " you say returning her hug withyour face resting on her shoulder.

" ofcourse baby. do you want to go grab a shower while I dish out what I cooked for you ?" she asked her hands rubbing your back.

with a nod you pulled away from her walking away . billie's eyes ever left you though she was still starring as her sexy ass girlfriend.

➺ faux locs

you told billie you were going to get your hair done in new york before catching the flight but never showed her any picture of some sorts. what she did was send you money way over the amount you'd actually have to pay for your hair.

the act was completely unnecessary because you could afford it out of your own pocket but she insisted everytime you did your hair to pay so you sort of just let her do it now.

when you got off your plane you took your stuff and set out to find billie. there she was looking like a ninja. you laughed to yourself when you saw her she was dress not to be noticed but really she was doing the opposite she was actually eye catching.

she was facing down looking at her feet with her hands in her pocket like she they were something interesting. by the time you were infront of her that's when her head rose up and faced you.

her eyes reached your face but you could she how they quickly moved to your hair. it wasn't black this time it was some shade of brown going well with your sunkissed skin. you had added some blonde curled extension on the faux locs.

you thought she would like them since she liked the boho braids the last time.

"I miss you too baby " you say with sarcasm before setting your bags down and reaching out to embrace her.

"right, I'm sorry you just look stunning I think I malfunctioned" billie replies explaining herself making you let out a giggle at her words.

"you like it ? I added the curls for you " you admit watching her eyes sparkling a smile forming om her lips.

"I love it baby you look absolutely gorgeous it's a miracle my eyes are still intact with my sockets " she says planting a kiss on your cheek her hand caressing your cheek while her eyes admired you.

➺ sew in

billie was the one who dropped you at your appointment this morning. she had some meetings and interviews around the city but by the time she's done you'll be done too so she promised she'd pick you up right after.

when you got there the hairstylist was still busy with someone else and you didn't mind so you waited for them to finish while you busied yourself with your phone.

but the time you started there were no hassles because you had washed and moisturised your hair the day before. well to be honest you didn't do it alone .billie volunteered to help knowing it took way too long to wash it and she didn't want you getting tired because of it.

you let the hairstylist do her thing the entire time hoping for the best results.by the time she was done she took out her phone to film because she had an online platform that documented her clients.

coincidentally the moment she pressed record billie walked in through the door already smilling upon seeing you.

"damn I'm going to have to marry you soon if you keep getting this pretty mama" billie shamelessly compliments you but before she could pour her attention to you she greets your hairstylist and thanks her for " making my wife more beautiful " which makes you grin like a fool.

"god you're beautiful you know that ?" billie's asks her finger on your chin gently turning it to the side to see your hairstyle in another angle.

"the phones recording babe " you inform looking up at her actually blushing. when billie's register's this she looks at the phone placed on the tripod before laughing at how she didn't notice it before.

➺ wig

you were doing a shoot for your music video that was based around anime well more like a video game. so along with that you needed some wigs that matched the vibe.

you arrived on set pretty early on because you wanted to give your hairstylist who was also your best friend enough time to work on your hair. the wig you both chose was a blonde one that would be installed then curled and styled.

after a lot of talking and laughing your hair was done and all you had to do was to get to costume. you had migrated to your dressing room along with the stylist to get dressed up.

what you didn't know was that billie would pop in to check up in you let alone with finneas. so, when they showed up you were just exiting your dressing room and heading towards the main shoot.

"billie?" you called out in suprise. upon hearing your voice tshe flashed you with her charming smile before walking towards you.

"I didn't know you'd drop by " you said but by then her attention was all over your body and not exactly to what you're saying.

"what's up bro , cool costume" finneas greets you with a warm side hug mostly because you both are looking at billie weirdly with how fast she got quiet .

"thanks but is she okay ?" you asked gesturing at billie who's eyes traced your body watching her ears get more red.

" she's freaking out cause you look exactly like the anime girls she'd thirst over when she was a teen" finneas spilled which actually got billie to speak.

" I'd say fuck off but you're right, baby you're sexy I think I'm pregnant" Billie admitted all in one go making not only you laugh but also the people around y'all who are working on the set.

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doitforbangchan · 1 year ago

Text

All Bark and No Bite 12

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Chapter Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving), grinding, kissing, cursing, crying, fluff, angst, drinking, drunk confessions, suggestive.

WC:8.4k

Chan was right when he thought you would need a lot of aftercare. After the events in the shower he carried you to bed and cuddled you for hours, kissing you and saying how he’s sorry he had to do it. He never apologized for the punishment but he only said that he was sorry it was necessary. The only time he left you last night was to go grab you a plate of dinner that you ate in bed. As far as you knew anyways.

In reality the alpha had waited until you fell asleep then he went and served the punishment news to Felix, who did not take it well. There was a lot of sobbing and pleading but the outcome remained. The beta could not speak to you or touch you in any way until Chan deemed it ok. Felix cried all night but knew he should have followed one of his alphas only rules regarding their omega.

You woke up that next morning feeling uncomfortably sore between your legs. You didn’t feel Chan in bed with you but you did suddenly hear the water running in his bathroom. For a moment you didn’t move, just laying there breathing in your alphas pure scent.

Chan came walking out of his bathroom in just his boxers, noticing your open eyes. His eyes crinkled as he gave you a boyish grin and came to sit on the side of the bed closest to you.

“Morning my love.” he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m running a bath for you. I figured you're probably hurting a little bit, huh?”

You grumbled out a “yeah” and lifted your arms weakly for him to grab you. The alpha laughed lightly and scooped you in his arms, where he brought you to the bathroom. You could tell it was very early, the sun's rays not even quite peeking over the trees you could see from the window. “Wha’ time is it Channie?” you tiredly asked as he lowered your body into the warmth of his massive bathtub. It smelled like he added some epson salts and essential oils into the water.

“Hmm about 6:00 am, maybe 6:15ish. There's a few things that need to be done before we leave and the drive to our usual camping spot is about an hour and a half.” He stripped himself and lowered himself to sit behind you.

“Toooo early” you whined, head laying against his chest as he massages your shoulders. When his hands traveled down further, now getting the knots in your back you let out a sigh. If you had to wake up early, this wasn’t a terrible way to do so.

By 7 you were out of the bath and getting some clothes together to take camping. You had decided to wear a pink boho floral dress that went down to your knees with your new swimsuit underneath. You grabbed a few change of clothes, some sweat pants and a hoodie in case you get cold.

Chan could tell how excited you were for the lake when you came bounding back into his room with your stuff, skipping and grinning ear to ear.

“What’s got you all skippy, baby?” He put your stuff in his duffle bag along with his own clothes.

“Oh I don’t knooooow,” you drawled,wrapping him in your arms, “maybe just that we get to go swimming and camping today!”

The alpha laughed and gave you a wet kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal and release him. “Can you even swim, baby? You said you’ve only been in the pool.”

“Well, I mean..” you felt your face heat up. “I think I could swim just fine. My feet didn’t touch the bottom of the pool so I had to swim!”

He patted your head patronizingly and cooed at you while still laughing “I’m sure you do your best, my love. Don’t worry though, your alpha will keep you from drowning.”

You huffed and narrowed your eyes at him, poking his chest “ I can handle myself, I’m not a child and I won't drown!” You turned on your heels and stomped out of his room, the man cackling behind you even louder as you left.

Down in the living room is where you found Minho and Seungmin.The front door was wide open and you could hear shuffling and moving outside. The older beta was going down the list and Seungmin was reassuring him that you all had everything. Well almost.

Seungmin was the first to notice you, and he met you at the threshold of the living room with a smirk, “Hey, Baby.” He pulled you in for a swift kiss, and you giggled returning it.

Minhos’ attention was now caught, his focus on Seungmin and how he acted with you. Since Min caught the younger beta groping you the other day he’s been paying more attention to the younger's actions.

Seungmins hands pinched your thighs cheekily as he pulled away from you, “Cute dress.” He laughed as you smacked his hands away.

“Thanks, jerk.” he dodged as you tried to pinch him back. You opted for sticking your tongue at him. “Good morning Min.”

His eyes remained watching you even when he had been caught observing, “Morning, omega. Do you have everything ready to be put in the car?”

“Channie has my clothes in his bag he is filling right now.” You nodded while answering. “ Is there anything I can do to help?”

Minho sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “No I don’t think so. Maybe when changbin gets back you can help fill the coolers but other than that everything is about done. Innie is outside putting everyone's stuff in the cars”

“Where did Changbin go?” you asked as you heard Chan starting to come down the stairs with your combined bag.

“He went to the diner to pick up our food order and then to the store for more beer. He should be back in like an hour.” Min shrugged.

“More beer?! As if the two cases I saw you loading yesterday weren't enough!” You rolled your eyes.

“These boys love camping.” Chan answered as he passed you to take your bags outside. “More specifically they love to get unruly while camping.”

“No better place than in the great outdoors with your best friends, a campfire and a pretty girl.” Minho winked while Seungmin fake gagged. “We also got some fruity drinks for you, baby. And Ji.”

You beamed at that “Really? Thanks! How did you know I don’t drink beer?”

“You don’t really seem the type, baby.” Sungmin smirked at your huff.

Minho rolled his eyes “Anyways, when Changbin gets home we will be ready then we can leave.”

Changbin had already hit the liquor store and the pharmacy, for your birth control prescription (at Chans request), now he was waiting at the diner for everything to be ready for him to take. He was sitting at the counter playing on his phone. The restaurant wasn’t busy, only a couple other patrons sat around in booths sipping coffee. What did catch his eye was the unfamiliar man sat a few seats down.

The guy was young, maybe Changbins age. This town didn’t get many visitors, so it was a little odd to see him there. From what Changbin could tell the guy was a beta, a mated one since he had a mating mark on his neck.

The beta must have felt Changbins analyzing stare, because he turned his head to meet the alphas' analyzing look. He lifted his hand with a grin and gave a little wave, “Hi.”

Changbin was self-conscious about being caught staring, giving back a mild look of panic and a timid wave, “Uhh hey.” The alpha moved over a few seats until he was sat next to the beta. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just don’t recognize you, is all.”

“Ha yeah, I’m not from this area. I’m here to help my uncle with selling his estate.” He held out his hand for Bin to shake. “I’ll be around for a few weeks. My name is Wooyoung.”

“Where the fuck is Changbin? We need to get going!” Minho was clearly stressed out, pacing the driveway. To be fair, it was nearing 9am. You were sitting out on the porch on the outdoor sofa, watching the beta in his plight. Of course you wished to make it better, but unfortunately it was out of your hands. Slowly the rest of the pack shuffled out of the house, all ready to depart for the short vacation.

Hyunjin surprised you when he plopped down next to you with a deep sigh. He leaned his head on your shoulder and grabbed your hand in his. “Hey angel.”

“Hi Jinnie, are you ok?” You lifted his hand and placed a kiss on the back.

He gave you a tired smile, squeezing your hand. “Yeah, just exhausted. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

You let him lean on you as he rested his eyes. “Why not?”

“Felix was a wreck last night. Crying for hours after Hyung scolded him. He needed me, so I stayed up with him.” Hyunjin sighed again, remembering just how distraught the younger beta had been all night.

You froze, dread and devastation filling your heart. You hadn’t even realized Chan had said anything to Felix yet. He hadn’t made an appearance yet, so you had no idea how he was holding up. To be completely honest, you had forgotten about the punishment dished out by your alpha. You were having such a good day so far, it slipped your mind.

Hyunjin could feel you tense up at the mention of Felix, he opened his eyes to see unshed tears in yours, and the sour scent of your sudden mood change filled his nose. “Oh sweet girl, come ‘er.” He embraced you in a comforting hold.

“It’s all my fault, Jin.” You cried, burying your face in the boy's shirt.

Your crying had caught the attention of Chan who was on the other side of the driveway chatting with Seungmin and Jeongin. He just watched from afar, not interfering with the comfort you were receiving from the beta.

“It’s not -”

“Yes it is! I let him do it, I knew we shouldn’t have but I did it anyway. He’s never going to forgive me.”

“Felix has nothing to forgive. He disobeyed a direct order from his alpha. He understands why and accepts it.” Hyunjin was stern yet soft with his words. The beta had sympathy for the younger but wouldn’t defend the actions. He listened the first time.

“Will Chan forgive me, though?” You asked, trying to stop crying. The hiccups were relentless.

Hyunjin found the alpha in question eyes, finding no malice or any negativity, just curiosity. “I would say you don’t have to worry about that, baby. Channie may get his panties in a twist when he feels like he has to go into ��mean alpha mode’ but he gets over it quickly. He loves you, he forgives easily.” He pet your hair.

“FINALLY!” You jolted out of Hyunjins hold when Jisung yelled from his place on top of his car. Ji was pointing at Changbins car coming down the path.

Changbin stopped the car and popped his head out the open window, “Delivery!”

“And where have you been?! We should have left by 8:30!” Minho stomped over to Changbin.

“Well I met this guy at the diner and-”

“It doesn’t matter, we gotta go.” Minho interrupted, “LETS GO GUYS!” He screamed it so everyone could hear.

Hyunjin pulled you in for a sweet kiss, wiping your eyes as he did so. “It’ll all be ok, love. I promise.” You nodded at his words. He stood up and grabbed your hand for you to stand also. “Let's get loaded and get going.”

You both walked over to the truck Chan was waiting for you at, “Ready to go Omega?” you nodded.

At this moment is when Felix walked out of the house. His eyes subconsciously searched for you where he saw you standing with Chan. You could see the redness in his face and his puffy eyes. He really had been crying all night. “Felix…”

You took a step towards him instinctively, wanting to comfort him but your alphas arm shot out and kept you from moving closer “Omega. Get in the car.” He kept his hard eyes on you, willing you to obey.

Felix saw this happen and ducked his head, beelining for Changbins car. He only sent Hyunjin one pleading look before ducking inside the vehicle. Felix respects Chan too much to disobey him again, even though he badly wanted too.

As much as you wanted to go to Felix you knew you couldn’t. With a look of defeat you climbed into the truck sitting in the middle seat. Hyunjin poked his head in and gave you a sorry smile, “As much as I want to be here with you, baby, I gotta go to Felix.”

“I understand, Hyun, it’s ok. I’ll see you when we get there.” You gave him a tight smile in return, scooting to the passenger seat, clicking in your seatbelt.

“See you soon. Love you.” He poked in to give you one last kiss before he walked to the other car.

Chan got in the driver's seat and started the truck, “ Are you ready, my love?” He was giving you that charming smile that you love.

You figured there was no sense on dwelling on it so you smiled back at him, “yeah m’ ready Channie.”

The drive to their usual campground was surprisingly pleasant, albeit the emotions in the car were a little heavy. Though you liked all the passing trees as you went even further into the forest. Chan let you pick the music in the car and he told you stories about the last few camping trips. From what he told you, the boys did a trip a few times a year, when the weather was warm enough.

You didn’t contribute much to the conversation, a little stuck in your head about the excitement of seeing a large body of water. Chan could feel your conflicting emotions, and could almost see them swirling inside of you. He only wanted you to have a good time so he decided to make a little adjustment.

“Baby.” he started, casually when you were about 10 minutes from your destination.. You hummed in recognition. “I think I may have been a tad harsh, especially since we’re all going to try and have a good weekend.”

“Harsh?” you were confused by his total subject change.

“I’ve done some reflecting, and I’ve decided you and Felix should still be able to at least speak to each other.” He shrugged, never taking his eyes off the road.

You let out an incredulous gasp, “Are you being for real?! I can talk to him?!” Your eyes looked hopeful as you stared at the alpha.

“Yes, I realize that it's impractical that two pack members can’t so much as speak to each other.” He let his eyes travel to you for only a second, to your beaming face. Chan put one hand on your thigh, just resting it there. “Remember, talking is the only thing I am allowing.”

“You got it, absolutely.” You were nodding rapidly, gripping his hand. “Thank you Alpha!” You were squealing with joy at the simplest of permissions, forgetting this was still a punishment and not a reward. As intended.

“You’re welcome, omega. I love you.” He said cheekily, giving you another sly side look.

“I love you Channie!”

Now you feel more jazzed. More ready and less in your feelings. The last few minutes of the drive was less heavy, and before you realized it you were pulling into a clearing behind the other two cars you were following.

You peaked your head out of the window, searching for any sign of water. “Where's the lake?”

Chan opened his door, and got out to come around the other side to open your door, “It’s a few meters through the trees in front of us.” he put his hand out for you to take, “we can’t set up camp to close or we risk getting water boarded.”

Everyone started getting out of their cars, scoping out the area. Immediately the boys got to work setting up camp. You saw Felix get out of Changbins car and went to go over to him but Chan stopped you, “Wait a minute, baby. Let me talk to him real quick.” He shooed you to help the boys unload the truck, then walked over to the younger boy who was standing with Minho and put his hand on his shoulder.

You weren’t able to hear what was being said, and couldn’t read Chan's lips since his back was to you, but you could see a little bit of the light return to the younger betas eyes and a light grin grace his lips. Felix appeared to nod in agreement then his eyes found yours, immediately seeking you out. You raised your hand to wave at him shyly, and he returned the wave.

“You can take this if you want, baby.” Seungmin brought your attention back to the task at hand, handing you an arm full of blankets. He pointed to where you could leave them, and the pack set up camp.

Camp was coming along nicely, tents being set up and drinks already being distributed. When you were putting your and Chan's bag by one of the tents Felix came up to you. “Lix!” You almost went to hug him but remembered you couldn’t. “I miss you.” you smiled the best you can.

“I miss you too, baby.” He grimaced then tried to smile back. “It’s just temporary. We can cuddle again soon enough. I promise.”

You nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you too. More than you know.” You felt your skin heat up at his words. He noticed things were almost done. “Are you ready for lake time?”

“Yeah!” You gave an enthusiastically loud response, then looked down trying not to come off so eager, “I mean, yeah sure.”

“HA! You couldn’t be aloof even if you tried, Omega.” Minho's teasing startled you and you jumped a little, turning to glare at him.

Min put an arm around your shoulder as you responded, “How would you know? Maybe I just hide it really well.” You didn’t miss the way Minho looked at Felix when the older beta touched you, a smirk on his face. “And don’t be a jerk!” You shrugged his arm off.

“Yeah leave Lixie alone, hyung!” Jisung hopped on Felix from behind. “He’s being punished enough.”

“Thanks Sung.” Felix deadpans, looking over it.

Minho put his hands up in surrender, “Ok ok I was just teasing you,” Then his smirk grew almost evil as his arms suddenly shot out and grabbed you. You squealed loudly as he threw you over his shoulder, your fists coming down on his back in protest. “Ow don’t hit me! I’ll drop your ass!”

“No! Don’t drop me, just put me down, you crazy! Aren’t you still setting up camp?”

“We’re done, it's play time now. I thought you wanted to go to the lake? I’m just taking you there.” He walked down the dirt path Chan had pointed out to you earlier.

“AHH no no no no Minho please don’t toss me in!” You couldn't see the water but you were starting to hear it now as he kept walking closer “Min I can't swim very well!”

He stopped near the edge of the water and lightly put you down on the ground. “I wasn’t going to toss you in, omega. You’re fine.”

You let out a sigh of relief and finally was able to look out at the body of water. It was beautiful. Very picturesque, almost like a painting, with the mountains in the background reflecting on the shimmering water. The sun was almost at its highest point in the sky and suddenly being next to the water you really felt the heat.

“What do you think, baby?” Hyunjin said from behind you, turning to see the rest of the pack coming down the trail. Hyunjin had a few towels and a folding beach chair. He didn’t have a shirt on anymore, his bare torso on display. “Beautiful huh?”

“Yeah” you oogled him, “beautiful.” He just laughed and kissed you as he passed.

Chan set you up a chair next to his, under a sun shade. Everyone picked their spots to set their stuff and then it was unleashing a pack of wild dogs. Most of them ripped off their shirts and sprinted towards the water, laughing and pushing each other.

It was like a scene from a movie, all these beautiful half naked men, splashing each other and being idiots yet still somehow managing to look perfect.

Your alpha was one of the few who hadn’t immediately jumped in the lake. He had his own shirt off as well, as he got out some sunscreen. “ Want me to get your back, my love? You need to be coated before getting in the sun.”

“Yes please.” You tentatively pulled your dress over your head, revealing the swim suit you had picked out the day before. The action caught every male's attention,( most of them eyeing you anyways waiting for the reveal) all of them unable to take their eyes off your body. They could see all the bites and bruises left on your body from the last few days, courtesy of Hyunjin, Felix and -mostly- Chan. Thankfully, you didn’t notice the boys in the water stopping to watch you, or you would have been too self conscious and put your dress back on.

Jeongin turned to Jisung and Felix who were in the water with him, “You guys help her pick that out?”

“Yeah.” “Uh huh”

The youngest boy gulped, “thank you for your service.” and saluted them.

“You’re so dumb.” Seungmin tried to push the alpha under the water and thus the play fighting resumed.

It was about an hour later, you were still sitting on the beach though now laying on a towel sunbathing, facing the water so you could still watch the boys all have fun. Now it was just you and Minho left not in the water, the beta still keeping his shirt on also. He had brought you a lemonade a few minutes ago now he was sitting on his own towel a few feet away with a book. You had asked him why he’s not in there with everyone else, and he told you with a grimace he ‘wasn’t much of a swimmer’. It was a comfortable silence for both of you now as you laid in the sun.

Changbin was exiting the water and coming up to the cooler, grabbing a bottle of water and coming to stand next to you. “Aren’t you comin in, babes?” He asked you after taking a drink.

Seeing Changbin shirtless and dripping wet was an ethereal sight. His body was like a well oiled machine, and it was very apparent just how hard he worked on it. You almost had to wipe the drool from your mouth. “Uh” you looked at the water then back to him, trying to pretend you hadn’t just been gawking at him. “I’m thinkin about it.”

The alpha smirked, noticing your roaming eyes. “Are you nervous?” You gave him a timid nod, not hiding it from him. “Come on, I can hold on to you the whole time.” He held his hand out for you to take.

You felt a little unsure, “do you promise?” you held your pinky out for him to swear.

He looped his with yours, “promise.” you let him help you up. “I won’t let you drown, baby.”

Changbin led you to the water, him stepping in first then gently guiding you in with him. The cool water felt good on your heated skin, a sigh of content escaping you as he brought you slowly into the lake.

The group was a few meters out, the water up to their chests. When you got closer to them you clung to Changbin, the depth getting to your nerves. He let you wrap your legs around him as he carried you and giggled at you.

“Look who decided to join us.” Seungmin splashed you, causing you to shriek. “I can hold you if you want, baby.” He had an evil glint in his eye, making grabby hands at you.

“No way! You’ll probably try to drown me!” You clung harder onto Changbin.

“I wouldn’t let him drown you, my love.” Chan swam up, splashing Seungmin.

“Not if I drown you first!” The beta tried to shove Chan under the water and the alpha retaliated and pushed him away with a laugh, clearly not threatened.

Changbin started waddling away, “Lets get the fuck outta this nonsense before Seungmin really does drown Channie and I have to step in. I don’t wanna be liable for that.”

You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if something happened to your mate? Would Changbin take over as next head of the pack since he's the second oldest alpha? Something tells you Minho especially would not blindly follow behind a younger male. God forbid anything ever happen to your alpha, the thought alone gave you a deep pain in your chest.

‘Stop being so fucking negative all the time. Nothing is ever going to happen to Chan.’ You mentally chastised yourself, shaking your head to dispel the corruptive thoughts.

Felix, Hyunjin and Jeongin were a little further out, and you thought Changbin was taking you over to that group but instead he shuffled to the left and went over to a cluster of boulders that were sticking out of the water.

“Where we goin, Binnie?” you asked, still holding tight. The rest of the pack were getting further from as he went but still in sight.

“Just wanted you to myself for a little while, sweet thing.”

“Aww.” You pinched his cheek, “you’re the sweet one, Binnie. Carrying me around.”

He giggled, “I’m just protecting my omega, from every threat even waist deep water.” You could feel your heart swell at his sentiment, knowing he was being completely honest. He set you on a rock that was low enough for you to climb on, then climbed up to sit next to you.

“Your omega, huh?” You tried for a teasing tone but the crack in your voice betrayed you.

Bin scratched the back of his neck and looked away with a deep red on his face. He cleared this throat, “uh well, the pack omega.”

You scooted closer to him, so your thighs were touching, “that means you’re right, I’m yours too Binnie.” He made a choked sound, and cleared his throat again. There was a sudden confidence you weren’t familiar with coursing through you, it made you bold enough to make a move on him. “Binnie..” you set your hand on his thigh. Even though he had just come out of the cool water, his skin was burning hot under your touch.

“Uh, yeah, baby?” he could feel his dick twitch at the simplest of touches from you.

“I’m just really grateful to have you and I care about you a lot.” you leaned closer but he just groaned and let his head fall.

“Fuck baby, you can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not? It’s true. You said it yourself, your omega.”

He let out a growl mixed with a groan, he lifted his head and his hungry gaze met yours. “ Better be careful, or I’m gonna fall in love with you.” He reached his hand out to cup your cheek.

Now your face was the one heating up, “Would that be such a bad thing?” it came out like a whisper as you leaned even closer. Changbin now was tilting his head closer to you, his eyes falling to your lips.

“Too late.” He closed the gap between you and your lips met. Changbins lips were incredibly soft. He hadn’t been forceful like you thought he would be as an alpha, instead he pressed your mouths together with a gentleness you hadn’t expected. Almost as if he was scared to break you.

You were the one to press closer to him, opening your lips slightly to encourage him to take it further. He took the hint, letting his hand grip your face a little tighter and his tongue enter your mouth. Changbin tasted woodsy, almost similar to Chan but Changbin was more smokey. It complimented his musky scent, both corresponding to make your head spin.

There was a faint ‘whoop whoop’ heard that startled you both, causing you to pull away from him. Back on the beach Jisung and Minho were making kissy faces and hollering at you and Bin.

“Grow up!” Changbin called to them, flipping them off while they laughed. You were about to flip them off too but then your eyes zeroed in on Felix sitting in the sand behind them, a drink in his hand, and the most pained expression on his face as he watched you and Changbin. It made your heart ache.

“Hey Binnie?” you asked tentatively.

“Huh? Yeah baby?” He turned to you , bringing his hands back down.

“Umm,” you twiddle your fingers a bit, “ can we maybe go back to camp for a while?”

He followed your gaze to see the young beta looking forlorn, “yeah baby, we can.” He hopped off the rock into the water, and lifted his arms to grab you again. You scooted down enough to let him take you in his hold once more, and the alpha carried you to shore. “It’s probably after noon by now, if you're getting hungry can we go get some lunch from camp?” He suggested.

You nodded, “That sounds great.” He set you down only when his feet touched the shore. Together you walked up the beach to grab your towels. The three betas were still chilling there under the sunshade, Minho cooing at you both when you approached and Jisung continuing his kissy faces. “Alright calm down you children.” you laughed pushing Ji away as he pinched your cheek after handing you your towel.

“You guys are jealous it’s not you getting precious omega smooches.” Changbin huffed.

“Well, one of us especially is,” Minho let his eyes flitter over to Felix with a devilish smirk. The youngest beta still hadn’t said anything yet, just keeping his gaze ahead at the water.

“You really are an asshole sometimes, hyung.” Changbin rolled his eyes.

“Yeah Min, sometimes you act more alpha than Changbin!” Jisung said with a cackle.

“Now you’re the asshole Han! We were gonna bring back food now I ain’t bringing you shit!” Changbin grabbed your hand and pulled you up towards the trail to the campsite.

“Noooo Binnie please bring me a sandwich!” Jisung whined with a pout.

“Starve!”

Hand in hand you walked up the small trail. The campsite was very close, just unseeable through the trees, undetectable. When the camp was in sight you paused your footsteps, that boldness returning to you now that the prying eyes were gone.

“You alright, babes?” Bin asked, noticing your stopped movements, “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yeah, I am. But not for food.” ‘What the fuck did I really just say that?!’ Whatever, you said it so now you gotta act on it. You lightly pushed on his chest until his back hit the nearest tree.

“Huh-” you cut him off by pressing your lips against his .He wrapped you in his arms, pressing your body closer to his. This time he wasted no time in shoving his tongue against yours, his battling for dominance- though you didn’t put up much of a fight.

“Mmm” You hummed when he slotted his thigh between your legs, the strong appendage creating some friction on your clothed pussy. As much as you wanted him, you were still too sore to even attempt another alpha inside you. No, right now you just wanted to show him how much you appreciate him for always being so sweet to you. “Mm Bin, hold on.” you mumbled as he started peppering kisses to your neck.

“Hm?” He couldn’t stop, the feel of your soft skin under his lips was addictive. He wanted to run his lips and tongue along every square inch of your body, to taste every drop of nectar you provided. The alpha knew you must be so, so sweet.

“Binnie,” You laid your hands on his chest and gently pushed yourself off of him, his lips chased after you causing you to giggle. “I wanna try something.”

“You can do whatever you want, baby. I’ll give you anything you desire.” He meant it wholeheartedly.

You still had your towel around you so you let it fall to the forest floor below you, and keeping eye contact with him you slowly sunk to your knees onto the towel. “Anything?” You were trying so damn hard to keep your nerves in check. You let your hands find his thick thighs, massaging them as you observed his dick growing in his shorts.

“Anything.” He reiterated with a gulp. Changbin couldn’t take his eyes off your sultry gaze, awaiting your next move. He could tell you were doing your best to keep up a sexy facade and if he was being honest it was totally doing it for him. Anything you do does it for him, really. Blood was rushing further into his cock no matter what you did.

You took a deep breath as you let your fingers trail up his thighs and up to the waistband of his swim trunks. You tried to slow your racing heart as you looped your pointer fingers under the hem. You steeled your nerves and tugged down the still damp fabric down to his knees.

Holy shit

Changbins cock was huge. Thick. Maybe not as long as Chans but Changbin made up for it in girth. ‘These alphas are gonna kill me one day.’

His tip already had a slow bead of precum coming from it as it stood straight up awaiting your attention.

Your mouth was working quicker than your brain. “I don’t think that’s gonna fit in my mouth.”

You both paused for a second, looking at each other like you both couldn’t believe you said it, before both of you burst into a sputtering laughter. His jolting was causing his dick to jump and slap against his stomach, the sight of it in your face was making you laugh harder and in return Changbin did too. It took a full minute to get out the giggles out of both of your systems.

“If it’s too big for you baby, you don’t have to. I know you may not be able to handle it.” Bin said, catching his breath. He wasn’t being facetious but you still narrowed your eyes at the unspoken challenge.

You tentatively reached out and took a firm grasp of his member. You could barely wrap your hand around it. The alpha immediately let out a pained groan, throwing his head back against the bark of the tree. Even the smallest of touches from you was overwhelming.

You sat up further on your knees as you let your hand stroke over him, trying to find a rhythm. You had never come face to face with the phallic appendage like you were now, and now that you were down here with it in your hand you were starting to get more and more intimidated.

With a final deep breath you leaned your face closer and placed a gentle kiss on the head. He let out a whimper at the contact of your soft lips. His little sound was encouragement for you to go further. You slowly parted your lips and slid his tip into your mouth, his precum tantalizing your tastebuds. You let out a low hum at the salty taste.

Changbin kept his hands at his sides, letting you go at your own pace, but fuck was it so hard. His instincts were fighting against each other. His dominant alpha side wants to just claim your mouth and make you choke on it, the other part of him wanting to coo at you and take care of your needs instead. He should have known this was taking care of your needs. You were growing to love the feel of him in your mouth.

He couldn’t help but put his hands on your head when you attempted to take him further into your wet mouth. His girth was a stretch but you were determined. You had seen how it was supposed to be done, you may have been inexperienced but you had still seen porn before.

You eased him as far back into your mouth as he could go, activating your gag reflex as you choked on him.

“FUCK baby! Careful, you're gonna make me blow my load if you keep doing that.” He moaned out when he felt your throat constricting around him. Your mouth was so wet and hot, he could almost imagine your pussy being the same.

You slowly bobbed your head on him, letting out little hums of satisfaction when the alpha began moaning and panting. He kept his hands stationary on the back of your head, but he almost lost it when you looked up at him through your lashes with glossy eyes, and drools started to leak out of the sides of your mouth around him.

“Oh my fucking god, you are the sexiest thing I have ever seen.” He wanted to cry when you hollowed your cheeks and a gurgle came from you with all of the saliva that was accumulating. “God damn how are you so good at this? Nughh wanna live inside your mouth.”

You giggled around him and his hands responded by gripping your hair, causing you to groan. He couldn’t help but lightly guide your head as you sucked on him. You only wanted to please him so you let him do as he wished, you were getting what you wanted either way.

Rambling seemed to be a theme with these boys as Changbin started to spew all his thoughts and feelings out for you while you sucked him off. “ F-fuck your so perfect. Wanna give you everything, wanna take care of you ‘mega.” you let out a whimper of your own. “You wan’ tha’ baby? You wan’ Binnie to take care of you forever? Mmmm yeah I know you do. That’s all I want, omega, all I need. Wanna love on you and build you a big house and- and- fuck- wanna show you what a good alpha I can be.”

Tears gathered on your lash line; either from his endearing sentiment or this thick cock bullying the back of your throat you didn't know. All you did know was how bad you wanted him to cum for you. With all the sweet talking he was doing he deserved it. Your hand found the base of his shaft that you couldn’t fit and you began to stroke him, trying to match movements with your mouth.

“Oh my god im gonna cum, baby your gonna make me fucking cum.” His hips drilled just a little harder as he chased his high. “ mmm you want me to cum in your pretty little mouth? Wan’ your alpha to feed you his seed baby? Nnnuuhgg don’t worry m’ gonna give it to you, Alpha is gonna give it all to his omega.” He pushed you onto him one last time causing you to choke and that was the last push he needed, letting go and a flood of his essence filled your mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head as curses and moans came cascading out of him. The thick knot on the base was inflated fully as he came, luckily your mouth couldn’t reach that far on him.

His load was enough that it was spilling out the sides of your lips, even as you swallowed all you could. You didn’t mind the taste of it, but the feeling was definitely going to take some getting used too. You let him catch his breath and you removed his now softening member from your mouth.

Bin looked down at you with blown out pupils to the hottest thing he had ever seen; you on your knees with teary eyes, lips puffy and red coated in saliva and semen. Fuck he wished he had his phone on him to take a picture. He’d make it his home screen.

“Damn baby…” He puffed out, petting the back of your head affectionately. “You sure you’re not some kind of secret porn star? Cuz that can’t have been the first time you’ve done that.��

It took roughly five more minutes after getting off Changbin that a search party came looking for the two of you. Jisung was worried you had been eaten by a bear. At the sight of you both, changbin looking fucked out and you with puffy lips, Seungmin had retorted with ‘well something definitely got eaten’. Because of course he did. Slowly everyone started to trickle back to the campsite, all hungry and most sunburned.

Night came quickly and by then the fire was lit and roasting hotdogs ‘so cliche’ while everyone had a beer in hand; or maybe two or three (5 +). Everyone was feeling good and laughing. You had even had a few drinks of your own, the alcohol making you incredibly tipsy and feeling relaxed. Chan was keeping an eye on how much you were consuming but overall was letting you let loose. At least you had changed into your sweats and hoodie so the mosquitos wouldn’t get you before you started drinking.

You hadn’t drinken in a while - the last time being a few months ago at your old best friend's house and that was mostly a glass of wine while you watched the oscars- so it had you feeling giggly and light.

Everyone was kind of doing their own shenanigans. Jisung and Changbin were having a drunken rap battle, neither of them coming up with anything intellectual or even coherent. Hyunjin and Felix were having a heated discussion about the importance of proper hair care. Minho was slurring through an explanation of how to cook the perfect hotdog to an equally as drunk Jeongin. Then there was Chan who was strumming a guitar as Seungmin tugged you up from your spot next to the alpha to dance with him.

“I can’t dance!” You tried to resist but your grin gave you away. Seungmin scoffed and yanked you up anyways.

“Like I care if you can, the fact is you will.” He grabbed both your hands and spun you around, then pulled you closer to give you a light kiss. The kindest touch he’s given you yet. He then grabbed you like he was trying to waltz with you, both of you not knowing the correct moves and just stepping all over each other. You were honestly having a great time, until Seungmin being himself couldn’t resist ruining the mood. “You know he’s only making an example out of Felix, right?”

You were caught in a whirlwind at his sudden declaration, “huh? What the fuck does that mean?” you tried to pull away but he kept hold of you, giving you his predacious smirk.

“Chan.” He said it like it was obvious, “He’s using Felix’s fuck up to not only teach him a lesson but teach all of us a lesson. It’s really not cute of him.” He wouldn’t have ever brought it up if he wasn't inebriated, but when the beta had alcohol in him he became even more unsufferable.

“What’s really not cute is that you're saying this right now, Seungmin.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“No but you know what is cute? I mean other than you.” He spun you again so you would be facing Jeongin. “Our poor Innie hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since we started dancing. Isn’t that cute? I think he has a crush on you.”

You locked eyes with the mentioned Alpha and he looked away quickly, as if he was ashamed at being caught staring. He did that quite a lot. Stared at you in awe hoping you wouldn’t notice. He also avoided being around you just as often. In your drunken state you were starting to grow self conscious at the reason.

“I don’t think he likes me very much, Minnie.” You mumbled, looking back at the beta who had you in his arms.

“Are you joking?” He snickered, “Oh I think he likes you way more than you know.” He let go of you and gave your butt a harsh smack in the direction of the seated younger male. “Why don’t you go ask him and see for yourself, huh? Give us some entertainment.”

You huffed, “Maybe I will ask him. But not for you, for me!” you marched over to Jeongin with intent as Seungmin cackled watching you go.

Jeongin had been avoiding your eyes so he hadn’t noticed you were coming to him until you plopped yourself down in his lap. He gasped as you seated yourself on him, eyes wide with surprise and his body freezing in place.

“Hi Innie.”

“Uhhh” He was at a loss for words, his brain failing to work the second you touched him.

“Can I ask you a question?” The alcohol you had consumed was making you feel emboldened. Tomorrow when you're sober you will be humiliated. Oh well it will be worth it to get to the bottom of his avoidance.

Jeongin cleared his throat, his face felt like a furnace with how it was heating up. “Umm yeah, yeah you can as-ask me a question.”

“I’ve kinda been noticing you avoid me sometimes…” You started, hesitantly. You didn’t wanna make him upset but you were genuinely curious. “And I’ve kinda been wondering why..”

He bit his lip when you shifted in his lap, already losing his mind and you haven’t even done anything. He still hadn’t put his hands on you, holding them out so they wouldn’t touch. He let out a shaky breath, “ I don’t avoid you, Y/n.”

“Well maybe not technically, but I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like you want to be around me. You seem almost… pained when I’m around.” You were fighting back a pout but your lips did it anyway, having a mind of their own sometimes.

The alpha boy wanted nothing more than to bite those pouty lips, to feel the soft flesh between his teeth. “Fuck” he accidently whispered.

“Huh?”

“N-nothing! Uh it’s complicated, Y/n.”

Your pout grew bigger, “but why is it complicated? Do you- do you not like me?” You leaned away, wanting to cry suddenly. “Is it because of the thing that happened when I was on my heat?”

Jeongin looked at you like you've burned him with your question, eyes shooting to yours in panic. “That's not it at all! Don’t say things like that!” Now you were the shocked one, not expecting his outburst. “Fuck, ok what I mean is, no of course not. I like you Y/n. Maybe too much..” He mumbled that last bit and in your inebriation you almost missed it. Key word being almost.

“Why too much, Innie? Isn’t it a good thing that you like me?” You wiped your tear that fell, then let your face fall into his chest.

He let out a quiet groan at your action, the smell of you weakening his resolve. He knew it would be embedded in his sweater for days to come. “You want me to be honest?” You nodded against him. “I have a hard time controlling myself around you. You make me almost feral. Everything about you is intoxicating. So yeah it’s kinda complicated.”

You let out an involuntary purr, his statement making you suddenly needy. You tightened your hold on him and pulled your face up to meet his. He was searching your face for some kind of disgust but was distracted by the pleased scent flooding out of you. It was making his brain foggy.

“Can I be honest now?” He nodded back at you, “ I really like you, Innie. And I don’t want you to hide away from me. Ok?” He nodded again, eyes closing as he was dragged further into your appeal. “Can-can I maybe kiss you?”

“Uhh, ye-yeah. Maybe a little.”

You leaned in closer to his face and pressed a soft peck to his lips. His hands shot to your waist when you pulled away from him, dragging you back to his mouth as he attempted to devour you. You let out a squeal from the action, catching the attention of Chan who was across the fire still strumming on his guitar.

As if they had a mind of their own your hips gave an involuntary grind on his lap and he growled in response, tightening his hold. Before he could take it any further, you were suddenly yoinked out of his hold and into the arms of Chan.

“Alrighty, that's enough of that. You’re both too drunk for this right now. You can resume in the morning when you're sober.” Chan said as he lifted you off of the younger alpha. “Time for bed, omega.”

You whined but didn’t fight it, letting him scoop you with no resistance. Jeongin almost growled at his alpha, but the sensible part of him knew that was a terrible idea. Look what happened to Felix when he disobeyed.

“Goodnight, baby.” He managed to get out in his stupor. He’s gonna be thinking about you all night.

“Night Innie.” You waved at him, then waved to the other boys as you passed them while Chan carried you to your shared tent. “Night boys! Love you!” you called out. There was a cluster of goodnights and love you too’s.

Chan chuckled, “You love them all huh, baby?” he set you down on the plethora of blankets he made sure to pack for you.

“Mmhmm, I do, Alpha.” Once you were wrapped up in the comfort you felt yourself grow drowsy. “Love ‘em all s’ much.”

Chan got into the blankets with you, letting you curl into him. He placed a kiss on your head as you drifted off. “They love you too, so much.”

You were out like a light.

A/N:AHHH I've had that changbin scene in my head for months before I even started this series so im pretty excited about it lol. The lake pic used above is a pic of the actual lake I live by, any guesses which one it is?

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!

Beta read by my wonderful bumble bee @ayejaii

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