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nereidprinc3ss · 6 months

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do you believe me now?

in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)

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18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!

“You’re so pretty.”

It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues.

“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”

You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong.

His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“…I do.”

It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs.

“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”

The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface.

Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”

Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.

“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”

That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more.

“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”

“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”

Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment.

“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”

“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable.

“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness.

“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”

His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak.

“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”

A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you.

“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”

“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”

He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down.

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”

“Sex?”

You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!”

He laughs again, a little less reserved this time.

“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”

“No! Too scary!”

Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder.

“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”

“That’s impossible.”

Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.”

His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could.

“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”

The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs.

“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”

When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips.

“I sleep with my eyes open.”

“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”

You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”

“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”

“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”

———————————————

Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade.

Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.

“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin.

“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.

“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“

“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”

Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh.

“I did not get all weird.”

“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”

He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”

Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”

And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles.

“Now you’re getting brave?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements.

“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg.

“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly.

“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”

A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs.

“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”

“Is that what happened?” he teases.

“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents.

Almost.

“Slow down.”

He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed.

��What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”

His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention.

“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him.

Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm.

“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”

His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him.

“Okay.”

A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back.

Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”

Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them.

“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again.

“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”

You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—

“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”

Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”

It works for him.

When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good.

Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice.

“You’re sensitive, huh?”

“S—sometimes.”

He hums contemplatively.

“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”

You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum.

“About what?”

“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine.

The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.

“You.”

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”

Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.

“Really?”

“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?”

You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”

“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”

You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again.

His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”

“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you.

A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away.

“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet.

“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes.

“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it.

“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message.

Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky.

“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”

It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort.

Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh.

“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly.

His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily.

“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”

Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly.

“Then we both did it right.”

“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”

Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”

The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy.

“Because I can’t have you all the time.”

“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”

“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids.

He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin.

“You’re shockingly precocious.”

You hum.

“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”

He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”

“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you.

He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;

I love you

I love you.

part two

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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chukys-mouthguard · 4 months

Text

What if?

Genre: fluff

Word count: 3,229 words

Featuring: matt rempe x female reader

Warnings: drunk guy being an asshole at the bar, aggressive/protective Matt

Note: okay, this is the first thing I’ve written in years, please be kind 😅 I just got a thing for this man now idk…feel free to send in some requests or let me know if you want more to this story? Not sure if it will be a one off or a little series

“Okay, how do I look?” You walk down the hall of your apartment, stopping to pose for Matt so he can give you his stamp of approval. He eyes you up and down, as if he is going to deliver some harsh critique. Your outfit is nothing crazy; jeans, a gray long sleeved bodysuit, black heeled boots, and a small cross body bag. With the New York City weather still chilly out, you figured it would keep you warm along with the alcohol you’d be consuming.

“Beautiful as always. But let’s try and keep the collecting of guys' phone numbers to a minimum tonight huh?” You laughed as you playfully smacked Matt’s arm. Making your way to the fridge to grab your High Noon you’d started sipping on before getting dressed. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous Matthew Rempe.” He shot you a cocky smirk as he leaned on the kitchen island next to you. “Me? Jealous? Never. Because I’m the one in your apartment and not them.” You rolled your eyes as you swallowed down the last bit of seltzer before unplugging your phone from the charger nearby. “Okay Mr. Chauffeur, let’s hit the road.”

You loved having Matt in NYC playing with the Rangers. The two of you had been best friends since you were teenagers, though you’d lost touch a bit once you moved to New York. Matt’s stint in Hartford allowed the chance to slowly reconnect, but having him now with the Rangers was even better. The two of you often spent nights at each other's apartments, going out to dinner, and of course you attended every home game you could to see Matt play.

You’d always had a soft spot for Matt. Sure he was a bit intimidating being practically 7 feet tall, his knuckles cut up or bruised half the time, and a black eye never seeming to catch you off guard anymore. But you’d gotten close enough to see the side of him most people don’t experience. Though you never imagined your relationship being anything more than what it was. Friends, and nothing more than that. But you couldn’t deny the way you had paid attention to how he’d grown into a man. He had outgrown his awkward phase, and you now looked at him and saw him as handsome, not cute or adorable like he was when you were growing up.

You constantly find yourself thinking, what if you weren’t just imagining things? When he spends the night and walks into your room wearing just a towel after a shower. The way he hugs you and lingers longer than just a friend would. The way he takes care of you when you’re drunk. Or nights like tonight, where he’s willing to stay up late to be your designated driver when he’s got an early morning skate and a big game tomorrow night.

Just one day, one day you’d love to kiss him and see what happens. Or flirt a little extra and see if he takes the bait. But you also don’t want to lose your best friend in the process, or be turned down and embarrassed for thinking he’d ever feel that way about you.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Matt asks as he puts a hand on the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, backing out of his parking space. It’s such a cliche action, but boy does he look good doing it, and your heart certainly skipped a beat.

“The typical routine. Start at Tucker’s. Then move on to 1989. Then finish-“ “At Coop’s?” Matt smirked as he looked out at the road. One hand on the wheel with the other resting on his thigh. He was literally in jeans and a hoodie yet somehow he looked just as good as he does in a suit on game day. “Either that means I go out too much, or you’re finally starting to pay attention when I tell you things.” “Definitely not paying attention, it’s you going out too much.” He laughed as you playfully punched his arm, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you were a few minutes away.

“So Cooper’s closes at 2:30, but I honestly don’t think I’ll last that long. Especially because someone has a big game tomorrow! And I wanna be well rested. So let’s plan for like 12:30/1? Is that okay?” You looked at Matt a bit apologetic, knowing he’d have to be up early for morning skate. But he was always adamant about driving you, no matter what time it was.

“Of course, you know I’ll be here no matter the time. I’ll plan to be at Coop’s around 12:45. I’ll come in to get you too, it’s gonna be cold and dark out. I don’t want you walking to find me.” You put a hand to his cheek as you make a joking pouty expression. “Aww, such a gentleman Matty.” He smiled at your touch, almost leaning into your hand as he looked back at you, “Anything for you. Now go on, I know the girls are waiting. Text me if you need anything, and I mean anything y/n. I’m not that far of a drive.” You let out a sigh as you undid your seatbelt, “Honestly Matt, nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine.” You blew him an air kiss as you exited the car, heading into the first bar of the night. Matt sat and watched you show your ID to the man at the door, waiting until he saw you get inside safely to drive away.

As promised, Matt arrived at Cooper's around 12:45. He was thankful that you and your friends chose to end your nights at a bar that wasn’t too crazy, but also not too crowded that he might be recognized. Just to be safe he threw on a hat to shield his face as much as he could, though the bar was so dark he doubted anyone would be able to make out his face in the crowd.

He handed his ID to the bouncer before making his way inside. He texted you a simple “I’m here”, you would know his typical meeting place and where to go. You were in the restroom when Matt texted, quickly replying “bathroom, be right out” before you sighed as you stared blankly at the wall. The line in the girls restroom always 100 times longer than it was for the guys.

Matt didn’t mind waiting, he checked some scores on his phone. Assuming that the line was long since girls love to use the buddy system when going to the bathroom. He scanned the crowd and enjoyed people watching, nodding his head and smiling softly as your friends gave him a wave from across the bar. He checked the time again, before glancing over towards the hallway to find you pushing past a crowd of girls to exit the restrooms. He chuckled to himself as he saw the frustration on your face, knowing you probably waited 20 minutes just to pee. He started to walk towards you but fell back as he noticed a guy stop you in your tracks.

“Can I help you?” You looked at the man a bit confused, you’d recognized him from the crowd of people, but hadn’t interacted with him much. He was out with a group of guys for someone’s birthday. You only knew that because they mentioned it to you and your friends at least 30 times. Definitely trying to help the birthday boy get laid. “I noticed you’d left your friends, I thought maybe my shot at getting to buy you a drink was gone.” You chuckled to yourself, why does this have to happen in front of Matthew?

“Oh, yeah, I’m actually on my way out. So, maybe another time. Sorry.” You try to excuse yourself but he moves with you, cutting you off. “Oh come on, one more drink isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Or if you want we could go somewhere else, just the two of us and get a drink.” He had a cocky grin on his face as you looked at him in disgust. He was clearly drunk, and wasn’t keen on taking no for an answer. You looked at Matt standing just a few feet away, a concerned look on his face as he wasn’t sure what was going on.

“Look, I’m not interested, okay?” He scoffed as he seemed to be a bit insulted by your comment. “Not interested, you and your friends were dancing right up against our group all night. I saw the way you were eyeing all of us guys, I’d say you were interested sweet heart.” You gagged at the smell of alcohol on his breath as he got closer to you. “Yeah news flash buddy, it’s a small fucking bar. My option was dancing right next to people or on the bar.”

As you tried walking past him to get to Matt, you felt a tight grip on your wrist pull you back, “That sounds hot, can you put on a show just for me?” His hands attempted to grab more than just your wrists but before you could react Matt was already stepping in, pulling the guy away from you and pinning him to the wall by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare fucking touch her like that.”

You were a bit taken aback at the way Matt stepped in. Sure he’d protected you from dumb drunk guys before, but never like this. His jaw clenched as his grip tightened on the collar of the man’s shirt. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it huh? What are you her little brother or something? Ain’t no way you’re banging a bitch like that.” Matt’s grip tightened on his collar as he pushed him harder into the wall, “what did you just call her?!” His voice louder, drawing a bit of attention, thankfully none yet from the bouncer.

“A bitch, and what are you gonna do about it?” The drunk dumbass laughed in Matt’s face and you knew this wouldn’t end well.

Before you could step in, Matt’s fist connected with the guy's jaw, causing him to stumble to the floor. Before pulling himself together and running off to the restroom.

“Fuck!”

Matt shook his hand as he winced, immediately realizing he fucked up but his anger got the best of him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. Thank god no one seemed to really notice the altercation that just took place.

The walk to the car was quiet as Matt was still fuming, you simply climbed into the passenger in silence. He gripped the steering wheel tight with his good hand as he peeled out of the parking lot. You sat next to him, studying his face to see when it might be a good time to say something. Blue and purple started to appear across the knuckles on the hand that threw the punch as he let out a large sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a soft laugh as you rested a hand on his thigh, softly holding his bruised hand, careful not to hurt him. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything wrong? You stepped in as I would’ve hoped you would the second that guy put his hands on me. Don’t be sorry for that!” He seemed to relax at your touch, so you kept your hand on his, slowly brushing your thumb over his skin to attempt to calm him down.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, the two of you heading back to Matt’s apartment since he had to be up early for practice. You kept your eyes on him, studying the look on his face, wishing you were in his head to know what the heck he was thinking. He took your hand in his as you two walked through the quiet parking garage, then headed up the elevator.

You knew your way around his place, first going to his room to grab an oversized t-shirt to throw on before heading to the bathroom to take off your makeup. Matt was sweet enough to go out and buy you your own toiletries to keep at his place. Including your makeup remover and even your 4 step skincare routine.

Matt came to join you in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth. He smiled at the sight of you as he leaned against the wall: your hair in a messy bun, his oversized Seattle Thunderbirds t shirt covering you up enough while still giving him a good view of your legs. “What?” You chuckled as you tried not to choke on the tooth paste threatening to fall from your lips. He just shook his head, “Just glad nothing bad happened to you tonight. I’m glad I was there.” He took your hand, his fingers fiddling with yours, “I just kept thinking what if i wasn’t there, I couldn’t handle it if anything would’ve happened.”

You looked at him in the mirror, relief and exhaustion covered his face. “I’m really glad you were there too, but I really hope we don’t end up with a possible scandal on our hands.” You started laughing as you exited the bathroom, Matthew following suit. “New York Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe gets in a bar fight over a girl.” You spoke in a sarcastic newscaster voice as you made your way to the freezer, grabbing a bag of frozen peas to tend to Matt’s fist bearing the proof of his heroic actions at the bar.

Matt chuckled along with you before wincing at the feeling of the cold bag on his hand, “If it happens, so be it, I was ready to knock that son of a bitch out after what he said to you.” You shot him a glare, “Matthew Rempe. Absolutely not, I am not worth you getting in trouble with the team because of a dumb bar fight.” He walked over to you, now the one shooting you a glare. His arms rested on either side of your waist as he gripped the edge of the counter. “Y/n, yes you fucking are.” You shot him a look as he swiftly picked you up and sat you on the island in front of him. A cocky grin coming across his face at how caught off guard you were, gripping his biceps tight as his hands now moved to rest on your thighs. “I’d fight 20 guys at the bar if they put their hands on you and said shit like that guy tonight.” His tone now more serious, his smirk fading as you two stared at one another for what seemed like an hour. The voice in your head screaming at you, this is your what if moment. Take it or leave it, but it may never come again. What if he’s trying to confess his feelings, what if he’s trying to make a move but he’s too scared. What if you just beat him to the punch. What if-

Before your brain could even rationalize a thought or an action, you felt Matt’s lips crash into yours. His hands cupping your face as yours snaked up his neck to grab a handful of his hair. The kiss like fireworks and a weight being lifted off your shoulders all at once. He began to smile into the kiss, before pulling away with a slight laugh.

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly what every girl wants. The guys she’s been dreaming of kissing to pull away laughing!” You rolled your eyes and frowned at him as a look of shock washed over his face. “Been dreaming of kissing huh??? I knew it!” You immediately turned red, covering your face with your hands, though Matt found it extremely cute.

His hands gripping your thighs before lifting you off the counter, “It’s okay, i get it. I’m sure there’s lots of girls out there who dream of kissing me.” “Matt! Shut up!” You laughed as he carried you down the hall into his room, tossing you on the bed while he finally changed out of his jeans and sweatshirt. “Hey, listen…if you’re interested, maybe we could work something out so that you can be the only girl who gets to kiss me from now on. How does that sound?”

You barely heard him, too busy staring as he stood in just his underwear in front of you. Your eyes tracing every detail of him before his laugh interrupted your thoughts. “Damn, one kiss and all of sudden you’re just head over heels huh?” You pull a pillow over your face out of embarrassment as you feel the bed sink beneath his weight. Matthew now hovering above you as he pulls the pillow away from your face.

He brushed some hair from your face as your fingers play with his chain hanging from his neck, “you really want to kiss me and only me from now on?” You blushed as he shook his head laughing at you, “of course you goof! That’s all I’ve wanted for like the last 5 years, probably even longer!” You felt yourself trying to fight a smile, though you were sure your cheeks were bright red, letting Matt know you liked his response.

He laid next to you as you continued to play with his chain, now resting on his chest. His thumb tracing circles on your thigh as you smiled like a dork to yourself, your heart bursting with excitement that all your what ifs had come true.

“So if I agree to this-“ you say up, trying to pull a serious face as you looked down at him. His hands still glued to your thighs, as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you now. “Do I get a cute custom Rempe jean jacket or something to wear to your games? Like I wanna be decked out and I want people to know that I'm the only girl you’re kissing from now on.” Matt rolled his eyes and laughed at your change of tone, as you babbled on and on about your ‘conditions’ should you agree to this. But he loved the thought of you in a Rempe jacket at his games, getting to see afterwards and kiss you like crazy after a big win, to have you be his biggest fan cheering him on every night. Even though you already were, now it would be more special.

“Listen.”

Matt cut you off as he pulled you into his lap, his hand pulling your face to his as he kissed you. This time the kiss was soft, as he took his time to really take in the feeling of finally getting to kiss you and be this close to you. “If you be my girlfriend, I’ll get you whatever jacket you want, I’ll get you the best seats at the Garden for my games, you name it. Just make me the happiest guy ever and be my girlfriend!” You laughed at how he begged like a little kid who couldn’t contain their excitement.

“Yes-“ you peppered his face with a hundred kisses, “Matthew Rempe, I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.”

#i cannot with this man #told myself tkachuk was my one and only #but here we are #matt rempe fluff #matt rempe blurb #matt rempe fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nyr

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st4rtar0t · 3 months

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Describing your love trope with your future spouse as a writer

Pick a picture

MASTERLIST ☆ PAID SERVICES

LONG POST AHEAD!

Pictures belong to their rightful owners, I only own the content of this post.

Picture 1

Arranged blind date

I stared at my reflection, the dress clinging to my frame in a way that was both flattering and unfamiliar. It had been months since I’d worn anything other than sweatpants and old t-shirts. My heart pounded as I thought about the evening ahead. What had I let Emma talk me into?

“Trust me, y/n,” she had said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You deserve someone who treats you right. This guy is perfect for you.”

I wanted to believe her. After all, Emma knew me better than anyone. She had seen me through the worst of my relationship with Adam, watched as I shrank into myself, convinced I was unworthy of love and respect. She had been my rock when I finally walked away.

Now, she was determined to help me move on, even if it meant dragging me into the world of blind dates.

“You look stunning,” Emma said, stepping into my bedroom. Her smile was warm and reassuring. “And you’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”

I nodded, trying to steady my breathing. “What if he’s... I don’t know, another Adam?”

Emma shook her head firmly. “He’s not. Trust me. I’ve known him for years. He’s kind, funny, and he’s been through his own share of heartbreak. You two will understand each other.”

Taking a deep breath, I followed Emma out the door and into her car. As she drove, I gazed out the window, my mind a swirl of anxiety and hope. The city lights blurred past, a cacophony of life that felt distant and unreal.

We arrived at the restaurant, a cozy little place with warm lighting and the comforting aroma of home-cooked meals. Emma squeezed my hand. “He’s waiting at table five. Go on, I’ll be right here if you need me.”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Here goes nothing.”

As I approached table five, I saw him. He was looking down at his menu, but there was something about him that immediately put me at ease. He had an air of quiet confidence, and when he looked up and our eyes met, he smiled. It was a smile that reached his eyes, genuine and warm.

“y/n?” he asked, standing up and offering his hand.

I took it, surprised by how natural it felt. “Yes. And you must be Michael.”

He nodded, his grip gentle yet reassuring. “It’s really nice to meet you. Emma’s told me a lot about you.”

I laughed nervously, taking my seat. “All good things, I hope.”

“Only the best,” he said, his eyes twinkling with kindness. “She’s very fond of you.”

As we started talking, I found myself relaxing. Michael was easy to talk to, his sense of humor lightening the mood. He shared stories about his work as a graphic designer, his passion for painting, and his dog, Max, who sounded like a real character.

“So, Emma tells me you’re quite the photographer,” he said, his tone genuinely interested.

I blushed slightly. “I dabble. It’s just a hobby, really.”

“From what I hear, you’re pretty talented,” he replied. “Maybe you could show me some of your work sometime?”

I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’d like that.”

The evening passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was enjoying myself. Michael was attentive, respectful, and genuinely interested in what I had to say. It was a stark contrast to the indifference and criticism I had grown accustomed to with Adam.

As we said our goodbyes, Michael looked at me with a hopeful expression. “I had a great time tonight, y/n. Can we do this again sometime?”

I smiled, feeling a lightness in my heart. “I’d like that very much, Michael.”

As I walked back to Emma, who was waiting with a knowing smile, I realized something. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to open my heart again. And maybe this time, I’d find the love and respect I truly deserved.

⁠—⁠☆

Emma hugged me as soon as I reached her. “See? Told you it would be fine.”

I hugged her back, gratitude welling up in my chest. “Thank you, Emma. For everything.”

She grinned. “That’s what friends are for.”

And for the first time in a long while, I felt hopeful about the future.

Picture 2

Friends to lovers

I stood outside y/n’s apartment, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. The city was quiet tonight, the streetlights casting a warm glow on the sidewalk. I had been here countless times, but tonight felt different. Tonight, everything was about to change.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door. Almost immediately, I heard her footsteps approaching. The door swung open, and there she was, her smile lighting up the entire hallway.

“Hey! Come on in,” she said, stepping aside to let me pass.

I walked in, my heart pounding in my chest. “Hey, y/n. Thanks for having me over.”

We settled on her couch, the same spot where we’d shared countless conversations, laughter, and even tears over the years. She handed me a cup of tea, her eyes sparkling with the warmth I had come to cherish.

“So, what’s up?” she asked, taking a sip of her own tea. “You sounded a bit urgent on the phone.”

I looked at her, really looked at her, and realized just how much she meant to me. Her kindness, her strength, her infectious laugh—all the little things that made her who she was. It hit me like a tidal wave. I was in love with her. I always have been.

“y/n, there’s something I need to tell you,” I began, my voice trembling slightly.

She set her cup down, her expression turning serious. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. “y/n, you’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember. You’ve been there for me through everything, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiled, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “I am your best friend. I will always be there for you no matter what happens. Now tell me, what is bothering you?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the moment. “But that’s the thing. I don’t just see you as my best friend anymore. Somewhere along the way, my feelings changed. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, there was a silence that felt like an eternity. My heart was in my throat, fear and hope battling within me.

“oh…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I pressed on, needing her to understand. “I know this might come as a shock, and I don’t want to ruin what we have. But I had to tell you. I can’t keep pretending that what I feel for you is just friendship.”

Her eyes searched mine, and I saw tears forming. Panic surged through me. Had I made a terrible mistake?

But then she smiled, a radiant, beautiful smile that took my breath away. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that for so long.”

Relief washed over me like a flood. “You... you have?”

She nodded, tears spilling over her cheeks. “I’ve loved you for years. I was just too scared to tell you. I didn’t want to risk losing you.”

I reached out, brushing a tear from her cheek. “You’ll never lose me, y/n. You’re everything to me.”

She leaned into my touch, her eyes filled with love and vulnerability. “I love you.”

The words were like music to my ears. I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly. “I love you too, y/n. More than you’ll ever know.”

We sat there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the world outside fading away. All that mattered was this moment, the love we had finally confessed, and the promise of a future together.

As I held her, I realized something. Love had been right in front of me all along, in the form of my best friend. And now that I had found it, I was never letting go.

Picture 3

Opposites attract

I watched him from across the room, the way he moved with such effortless grace and confidence. The party was in full swing, laughter and chatter filling the air, but all I could focus on was Ethan. He was the epitome of extroversion, charming everyone around him with his easy smile and quick wit.

I, on the other hand, was more comfortable in the shadows, observing rather than participating. I preferred a good book to a loud party, a quiet evening at home to a night out on the town. Yet, here I was, drawn to someone who was my complete opposite in every way.

Ethan caught my eye and waved, making his way over to me. My heart skipped a beat, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling inside me.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. “Why are you hiding over here all alone?”

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Just taking a break from all the excitement.”

He laughed, a rich, contagious sound. “You know, you’re the only person I know who comes to a party to take a break from it.”

I smiled, feeling a little more at ease. “Well, someone has to keep an eye on things from the sidelines.”

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with that mischievous spark I was starting to adore.

“Sure,” I said, surprised by how much I wanted him to stay.

We sat down on the edge of the patio, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the crowded house. For a moment, we just sat in comfortable silence, the sounds of the party fading into the background.

“You know, Y/N,” Ethan said, breaking the silence. “I’ve always admired how you can just... be. You don’t need all this noise and attention to feel happy.”

I looked at him, surprised by his honesty. “And I’ve always admired how you can light up a room just by walking into it. You make everything look so easy.”

He smiled, a softer, more genuine smile than I’d seen before. “It’s not always as easy as it looks. Sometimes, it feels like I’m just playing a role. But with you... I feel like I can be myself.”

My heart swelled at his words. “I feel the same way, Ethan. With you, I don’t feel like I have to hide.”

We continued talking, sharing pieces of ourselves we hadn’t revealed to anyone else. I told him about my love for painting, how it was my way of expressing emotions I couldn’t put into words. He opened up about his fear of being alone, how he surrounded himself with people to avoid facing his own insecurities.

As the night wore on, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t expected. Despite our differences, or maybe because of them, we fit together in a way that felt right. His outgoing nature balanced my introversion, his confidence bolstered my shyness, and his warmth melted my reservations.

Ethan reached out, taking my hand in his. His touch was gentle, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through me. “Y/N, I know we’re different, but I can’t help how I feel. Being with you makes me want to be better, to be more.”

I looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability and sincerity there. “I feel the same way, Ethan. You make me feel... alive, like anything is possible.”

He leaned in closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “So, what do you say we give this a try? Us, I mean. I know it won’t always be easy, but I think it could be something amazing.”

I smiled, my heart full of hope and excitement. “I’d like that, Ethan. I’d like that a lot.”

As he pulled me into a gentle embrace, I realized that sometimes, the most unexpected connections can be the most beautiful. Despite our differences, or maybe because of them, we were falling for each other, and I couldn’t wait to see where this journey would take us.

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months

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Hello 👋 can I get a little body switcheru with twist dorm liders and Yuu? Even better if we'd have F!Yuu in this one ❤️!

I don't think I'll be doing all the dorm leaders right now but just a few 🖤🖤🖤

Body Switch | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

What a gift! To see precisely what your obsession sees, to touch with their perfect hand, to hear their lovely voice whenever they opened their mouth. Oh, the possibilities are endless! No matter the circumstance this is the stuff of dreams nightmares:

Vil Schoenheit

“OH SEVENS!”

Is at first horrified at the feeling of not being in his perfectly preened body

In his clean and not dingy home

But it diminishes when he realizes the one screaming in the dirty mirror is you

His precious love

“Ergh these black heads are insane. My potato has been neglecting their routine. That’ll be good to make a note of.”

He immediately gets to work

He has to make the next 24 hours in his dearest’s body count

and he’s got so much to do and such little time

Immediately he inspects your home and makes a note of everything that’s lacking in Ramshackle

Perfect ammunition for his proposal to move to Pomefiore

Next he reads your diary or journal if you have one

And he dives into your photos and makes a mental note to send more headshots to you

Next he goes to Rook

“We have less than 12 hours before I return, get your camera.”

Already planned and prepared the photos are perfection

Next he takes your measurements

Both for clothes and for ropes and fluffy cuffs

He debates deleting your friends from your contacts

But he’s not petty he is he’ll just send a text or two with passive aggressive undertones

And when he’s got close to an hour

He takes the time to…examine your every inch …careful to not leave a mess behind

“So…soft and round…they will look glorious in couture.”

Idia Shroud

“Eeek! It worked!”

Spends nearly an hour squealing and jumping around

But then he goes to the mirror and starts his fantasy

Using your lips to confess an undying love to Idia Shroud

He records it and everything

Next he goes to his room, already set up to allow a very specific code

He goes to his dorm

Everything is going perfectly to plan

Next he plans to dress you in the cosplay he already has your measurements for

“Yes! Now I just have to take this o-o-off! Ack! T-their s-skin! No! I can’t e-e-even if I’ve s-seen it through the camra it is so different!”

He genuinely can’t make it past your shirt

Too embarrassed and caught up in simply seeing all your skin

So instead he’ll move onto the next objective

Going to the pick up spot he’d already designated

Riding calmly as your taken to some unknown artificial island

“Hehehe well at least one objective was completed…let’s just say that other one isn’t one of my skill levels just yet. Hehehe I’ll have more than enough time to level up though!”

Malleus Draconia

Someone or you must have said that little expression

“Try walking in my shoes! Its really inconvenient when you scare everyone away from me!”

“In your shoes?”

So he tries it

Having your body become his own, allowing a day without his, in your words: overpowered bod

Oh is he warm

So warm he feels like your constantly hugging him

Its immaculate

Than he spends a good while just admiring you in the mirror

More than happy to study every pore of your skin in great detail

“Oh I did not realize their birth mark was this adorable.”

But he’ll soon find your legs ache so easily

Why can’t he stand straight for seven hours without your knees getting wobbly

Or how defenseless you are

With nothing but his tiny wisps if his own magic to sense

Its kind of horrifying

But as agreed he tries to go throughout the day as you

Enjoying the attention of all your friends

Granted they send weird looks when he says something odd

But you’ve already employed Grim as ‘his wingman’

Who frantically tries to get him through the day

He learns so much ‘by being in your shoes’

“I do not appreciate everyone having such careless interactions with you, especially when the amount of muscle let alone magic is…concerning.”

#yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus twst #yandere malleus #yandere malleus draconia x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere twisted wonderland #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere twst #yandere idia shroud x reader #yandere idia shroud #yandere idia #yandere idia x reader #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #yandere vil #yandere vil x reader

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ajortga · 7 months

Text

sweet

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: after filming, jenna decides to relax for some coffee, not expecting to meet you and fall in love with girl that makes her knees weak.

word count: 1.9k+

read the next parts here! : part 2 part 3

Jenna can remember meeting you like it was yesterday.

At a coffee shop, not too far from the scream set in New York City.

She roamed around, it was evening, the sun was going to set soon, Jenna could tell the way the sky slightly became yellow, getting the slightest pink.

Jenna liked sunsets.

She had just finished filming for a scene, her headphones were on and she needed some fresh air.

Her noise cancellation was on, walking the streets as she felt her stomach rumble quietly, she was hungry.

She looked around for a place to snack as she looked around, a famous pizzeria was definitely not what she needed.

She turned a corner and she saw a place that was made out of caramel bricks, plants neatly outside with vines hanging from head to toe, she could see the warm welcoming presence on the inside, lanterns hung from the ceiling.

She didn’t really like coffee.

It was so bitter the first time she tried it, of course she didn't know (till recently) that she ordered black coffee with no sugar or creme and almost choked it out.

So she stopped, if anything it added less sleep along with her insomnia.

But she went anyway, the vibe felt comforting. Plus there had to be more than just bitter coffee.

She pushed the door open, a small ding being heard.

Then she could smell the soft scent of coffee and fresh pastries lingering, she felt her hands cold, but her gaze shifts up, and she can feel her whole body warm, like a cozy fire, suddenly, she felt nothing but a daze of love shock.

Her eyes meet your figure, your hair was in a messy bun, a ruffled beige apron tucked around your body over a blouse, pouring creamer in a latte cup, a flower design being made as you traced the coffee with soft hands.

Your focused eyes shift from the cup to her, she can see a small glow in your warmth, they soften as you smile, waving. Softly, but loud enough to hear over her headphones, you saying, “Welcome!”

She can feel her lips twitch into a smile, tucking her scarf beneath the nape of her neck, it was already warm enough here.

She looked up at the menu, so much to choose from.. And so many flavors.

She bit her lip, in thought as she was stuck, there was a lot.

But so much coffee, she may have not liked coffee the best, but coffee with this many flavors could change her mind.

She was there for a long moment, until you spoke up, you were in front of her, thinking she was going to order, she was standing in front of the cashier after all.

“Trouble choosing what you want?” You ask, tilting your head.

That took her out of her trance, taking her headphones off and wrapping them around her neck. She finally realized where she was standing, in front of the damn register.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I can be kind of clueless when I have headphones on, uh, um. Oh yes, I’m not so sure what to get, I’ve never been here.”

You give her a smile, and she can swear she feels her legs wobble, she could drown in those eyes. So pretty..

“Don’t apologize, please. Don’t worry, it’s okay not knowing what you want, to be honest I think you would like a drink. I think you would like our french vanilla or pumpkin spice latte.. With a sprinkle of cinnamon. How does that sound? This is just my recommendation, I could be wrong, but I think I can read what people should get pretty well! They end up liking it. Don’t count on me though,” You breathe with a little laugh. You sound adorable when you laugh. Your lips are perfect. Kissable.

She feels something she hasn’t felt in so long, butterflies.

You were so sweet, something about you made her not want to tell you she didn't like caffeine or the taste.

You just called her love, if anything the color of love was on her cheeks.

“I.. Um.. Yes, I’ll take that. Can you mix those?…”She was going to say your name but didn’t know it, looking down at your name tag, Y/N/L/N. “Uh.. Oh Y/N."

“Of course I can! One french vanilla spice coming up! Anything else you would like? Our pastries just came out of the oven if you’re in the mood for that.”

You were pretty. Unlike any other stranger she'd see on the street before.

Jenna looked at the display, her hand pointing to where her eyes landed, “I’ll take one of your strawberry croissants, I never tried that.”

“You never had these? These are perfectly sweet and soft! They’re my favorite. That’ll be $8.13 please.”

She grabbed her card and swiped it, and you smiled, “Thank you Jenna, give me 5 minutes or so.” You looked at the name of her card.

You look at the names of her customers from their card, how cute. You definitely wanted her. (Or so her delusional brain thought.)

After a few minutes of sitting down and lost in her thoughts from the music, (possibly staring at you preparing her drink the whole time,) she hears you call her name in the distance.

Something about your voice had the slightest softness, she never loved someone calling her her name more than now. Y/N/L/N. Your name is pretty. It'll be even prettier when your last name is hers when you're married-

She walked up to you and you handed her a light brown tray, with her latte in a cup, the design with a pumpkin with a small heart on it, and her powdered strawberry croissant.

“Thank you.” She whispers, taking it gently and going back.

She sits down in the corner of the room, a booth with a pumpkin decoration and vinyls hung, she could see the steam fogging in front of her and just realizes how cold it really is.

She smells cinnamon, a small whiff of it.

She likes the smell of cinnamon. It reminds her of her childhood home on Christmas when snickerdoodles were being made.

She smells vanilla too.

She likes vanilla. She likes vanilla more than chocolate.

Her hands lifts the mug to her lips and drinks.

Immediately she feels the warmth seep through her like a gentle river, she hums at the taste.

The vanilla battles the strong bitterness of the coffee, leaving the smallest trail behind.

The pumpkin spice, she can taste it in the cream, it reminds her of fall.

It tastes comforting. It tastes like the feel of a steamy creamy soup that you have when it’s pouring rain outside.

It makes her feel soothed. Cozy. Like she’s in her own Gilmore Girls show herself.

Her lips press to the mug for the second time, sipping it again and it tastes so good. It’s not too sweet nor bitter. It tastes perfect. It warmed her whole body up, even with the freezing temperature.

She places the mug down on the wooden coaster, she’s never had a strawberry croissant before.

And when she has a taste, she wants to buy the whole shop. Why has she never heard of this before?

There's a sweet fluffy cream in the middle, she can feel powdered sugar coating her lips as she licks them.

It tasted sweet. It was light and delicious, the custard complimenting the sweetened strawberry. Who knew bread could pair with such.

“Is it okay for you?””

She turns around and sees you, it seems like the rest of the customers had to go out before the pouring rain began to crash harder.

“It was more than okay, it was so good. I need that recipe,” Jenna jokes, making you laugh.

“The croissant is my grandma’s recipe. I remember she made it when I first started baking in the kitchen. She thought it was so good that she had to put it on this cafe’s menu. For the latte on the other hand, you just have to know balance and what tastes right.”

Jenna’s slim hands waved a 5 dollar bill in the air, in which you immediately shook your head.

“Take it,” she giggles.

“No, it’s yours.”

"No."

"Yes."

"If you keep it I'll give you my number."

... That was tempting for you.

“I wasn’t a big fan of caffeine in general. It was always too bitter or too sweet. I think it ruined the experience for me to try anymore. Take this as a word that I’ll be coming often,” she gave you a sweet smile, giving you a piece of paper on top of the money.

You looked at her with, a small grin forming on your face as you looked up, “You win. Thank you. look forward to you being a regular. I'll make your coffee extra lovely and sweet next time," you said with a wink that made Jenna blush.

Jenna’s smile never faltered as she left the coffee shop, seeing your number on her phone as she placed it in her back pocket. But as she tried to slide it in, it seemed a bit cramped as she took out the piece of paper that was blocking it.

A five dollar bill. The five dollar bill she gave you.

She sighed, shaking her head with a small laugh, you were a smartass sliding the money she gave you back into her pocket without her knowing.

She folded it in her hands, looking back at the coffee shop, wanting to give it back and run so you couldn’t do anything. But as she looked back she could see the fairy lights on the sign dimming, your face behind the glass. You gave her a small playful wink as you flipped the sign to closed, your breath blew on the glass, putting a small heart on the fogginess and walked away.

Something in Jenna made her heart flutter, wanting to go to the coffee shop every day. Every. Single. Day.

But why? When she goes to restaurants she doesn’t seem excited to come again.

She could feel her cheeks heating up as she realized it was because of you. She wanted to come because of you and see your face, to see you giving her that smile or calling her name, to hear your voice as you talked to her, to see your pretty eyes glance down to her lips every once a while once again.

4:25pm

maybe y/n: sweet seeing you today, hope you didn't mind some money back, this is all i need :)

4:28pm

jenna: ooh. getting sweet already? hmmm, you're sneaky! maybe i'll pay you another visit tomorrow. (you reacted with 💗)

maybe y/n: aww, for me?

jenna: i wouldn't count on ittt but maybe it's a 50/50

4:30pm

maybe y/n: i don't think a customer would ask for someones phone number as an agreement?

4:35pm

jenna: you got me there

maybe y/n: i know i did jen :p

maybe y/n: don't get ahold of yourself, i still have to know you better ml

jenna: then tomorrow is set.

maybe y/n: tomorrow it issss (jenna reacted with a 😗)

She covered her face and let out a small groan as she came home, her back hitting the mattress as she looked up at the ceiling. She could feel a small grin forming on her face as her eyes sparkled, her nose scrunching.

She liked the girl who lay behind the mug of coffee.

She liked you.

a/n: wanted to take a small break on requests, i think i should focus on thinking of my ideas instead of doing request one by one from my inboxes, if that makes sense. requests are soon!

i'm not sure if i'll take some because sometimes these requests don't have any of my ideas in mind so it's hard to write something that feels good<3. enjoy this cute long ish drabble that i made a few months back but never finished<3

#wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter x you #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x female reader

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leahrintarou · 10 days

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hii i saw some of your works and i adore the way you write, so whenever you had time, could you write an asahi x reader? possibly nsfw , and the reader being older than asahi, and you do the rest! thank you if you do it :)))

✩₊˚.⋆ REDESIGN - asahi azumane

CW: reader has female anatomy, mentions of lingerie, fem reader, nsfw, penetration, unprotected sex, usage of the petname "baby" & "beautiful", she calls him 'sahi' as a nickname lol. (i hope this reflects what you requested, anon! :)

Word Count: 1.8k

"oh wait, i need to visit one last store." y/n caught the wrist of her boyfriend, gently pulling him towards the entrance of a clothing boutique. "there’s no hurry, beautiful. i wouldn’t mind if you decided to visit every store in this mall." his smile was warm, comforting, and y/n couldn’t help but feel her heart swell with a gentle heat. asahi followed her to the back, where the lingerie awaited in soft, delicate folds.

"oh?" his eyes widened in surprise as he realized where they stood. she hadn’t mentioned what they were looking for, so the revelation caught him off-guard. "didn’t you just buy like ten different sets a week ago?" he asked, as she released his wrist, now lost in browsing through the selections. "all of which you tore apart, beyond repair," she replied, rolling her eyes as she held up a piece, considered it, then shook her head and put it back.

"oops…" he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and y/n nudged him playfully with her shoulder. "not that i’m really complaining," she added.

"well, complain or not, just saying, i’m totally not at fault for your broken sets." he raised his hands in mock defense. y/n’s eyes narrowed at his feigned innocence. "i don’t know, sahi," she deadpanned, "but i’m fairly certain that you yanking the piece fabric off me has everything to do with you."

asahi let out a soft laugh. "not my fault the material is garbage despite being ridiculously overpriced." he shrugged. y/n didn’t seem to hear him, already captivated by a new black set that had caught her eye. "this one is so cute!" she exclaimed, holding it up for him to see. "it is," he replied, smiling faintly.

she arched an eyebrow at his dry response, prompting him to elaborate. after a pause, he shrugged, hesitant. she nudged him again, impatient. "i’m just saying," he began, "i could make something like that. better quality, too, and for free, might i add."

"oh, really?" she replied, dripping with sarcasm. asahi was a talented designer, no doubt, but lingerie was far outside his usual realm. still, his confidence was almost convincing, even to her.

"definitely. we can stop by the fabric store before heading home."

"so, you’re really going to make me custom lingerie because store-bought doesn’t live up to your standards?"

"yup. seems like a perfectly valid reason to me."

"whatever you say." she sighed, setting the set back reluctantly. "wait," asahi stopped her, taking the lingerie from her hands. "we’re still buying these for tonight. might be poorly made, but you’ll make it look perfect. besides, you won’t be wearing it for long." his grin widened, and y/n shook her head, following him to the checkout.

---

"beautiful?" asahi’s voice reached her as she lay half-asleep on the couch. it had been a long, exhausting week, and the fatigue was winning. blinking away sleep, she turned the TV’s volume down with the remote in her hand. "hm?" she called, glancing at him as he descended the stairs and came around to stand behind the couch.

"i’ve got a surprise for you."

"sahi, it’s eleven at night. what kind of surprise is this?" she smiled faintly. he revealed a small box, wrapped neatly with a bow, and handed it to her. "what’s this?" she asked, taking the box, her curiosity piqued. there wasn’t any special occasion coming up, but asahi’s love language was undeniably gift-giving.

he took a seat beside her, urging her to open it. y/n lifted the lid, peeling back the layers of tissue paper, and there, resting beneath, was lace. rich, deep red lace overlaying black, intricately woven and delicate. she pulled it out, admiring the craftsmanship, and looked at him, eyes soft with adoration.

"you actually made this?" her voice was filled with disbelief.

asahi shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. she couldn’t help but pull him into a hug, pressing a kiss to his lips, lingering for a moment before he pulled back to speak. "go try it on. i need to see if it fits—I made it all from memory." he chuckled as y/n quickly stood and made her way to their bedroom.

this was what he’d been working on all week in his office. she had nearly forgotten about his promise to make her a custom set. quickly slipping out of her clothes, she donned the pieces he had designed for her, amazed at how perfectly they fit. it seemed impossible, but then again, his hands had memorized every curve of her body.

emerging from the bathroom, she walked towards him with quiet, deliberate steps. the soft glow of the TV flickered across the room, casting faint shadows as she approached. "sahi," she called softly, a shy smile tugging at her lips. she suddenly felt self-conscious under his intense gaze as his eyes traced her form from head to toe.

"say something," she groaned, crossing her arms in mock frustration.

asahi stood, closing the distance between them, his hands finding their way to her hips. "you look stunning," he whispered against her lips. "you did an amazing job," she complimented him with a smile, but he shook his head, pulling her closer until their bodies pressed together.

"yeah, but," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers for a fleeting moment before pulling back, "you make it look ten times better."

his hands traveled to the small of her back, drawing her nearer, his voice a quiet promise against her skin. "now, let’s see how durable it is."

he pressed a kiss against y/n's lips, firm and unyielding, and without hesitation, y/n parted hers in response. his tongue brushed lightly against her own, and she sighed into his mouth, a sound that sent a tremor through him, compelling his hand to find her waist. there was a hunger in his gaze, one reserved solely for her. he guided her to the couch, took his seat, and motioned for her to straddle his lap.

the more he tasted her, the more insatiable his desire became. a groan escaped him when she shifted against his lap, and the sound mirrored his growing need. y/n seemed to sense it, teasingly pressing the strained fabric of his sweatpants, drawing a deep moan from him. "i'm grateful you made this for me, sahi," she murmured softly.

he hummed in response, a low, knowing sound. "mhm and i never ask for anything in return... but..." his voice trailed off as he pulled back slightly, but the unspoken request in his eyes was unmistakable. y/n smiled, and in one smooth motion, she ground her hips against his clothed arousal, her movement deliberate. he threw his head back, groaning deeply.

"too much?" she asked, almost teasingly.

"not enough," he rasped, as her lips found his neck, leaving delicate kisses along his skin. with a swift movement, he pulled at the string of his sweatpants, freeing himself from the layers of fabric that restrained him. y/n took him into her grasp, and a sigh of relief slipped past his lips, though it was tainted by the greed simmering beneath his skin. no matter how much she gave him, it was never enough. "i need you so badly right now, beautiful," he groaned, his body shuddering as she stroked him.

y/n, her own desire mounting, ground herself against his thigh this time. asahi shook his head, laughing softly through the haze of lust. "if you're that needy, use me, beautiful. I'm right here and i need you just as much." her frustration was evident, her body trembling with the need to have him, to feel him entirely. it was as if time slowed, her patience thinning, and the urge to claim him overwhelming her. and he, too, couldn't deny the hunger in his veins, the way his body already responded to her touch.

with his assistance, y/n lifted her hips, and soon the barrier between them vanished. slowly, he helped her sink down onto his length, and their combined moans filled the room. "you feel so good," he breathed, the sensation of her warmth enveloping him nearly tipping him into oblivion. despite his need, he remained gentle, his hands gripping her waist with a tender firmness, guiding her movements as she rose and fell against him. every meeting of their hips brought a fresh wave of pleasure.

but he could sense her fatigue, the way her rhythm faltered. "need my help, beautiful?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

she nodded, a soft whimper of "please" escaping her lips. with ease, he shifted them both, laying her on her back as he positioned himself between her thighs. his movements became more frantic, more desperate, as he plunged into her, groaning hoarsely with each thrust. y/ n's hands found his wrist, and when he applied a gentle pressure to her abdomen, her moans became more urgent.

he quickened his pace, sensing the edge of ecstasy looming before them both. with one hand, he massaged her in swift, precise circles, his thumb finding her most sensitive spot. y/n bit her lip, her breathless whimpers filling the space between them. "you're almost there, baby," he panted, ignoring the ache in his own body, focusing only on her.

her body trembled beneath him, tension building until it reached its peak. he glanced down at her, the lace of her lingerie a beautiful contrast against her skin, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her. when she called his name, her voice laced with desperation, he unraveled completely. he pulled out of her, continuing the movements against her bud as her body jolted from the intensity of the sensation.

it didn't take long before her climax hit, her body arching under his touch. to him, it was the most exquisite sight. he gripped his length, pleasuring himself just enough to teeter on the edge of release, and y/n, noticing his need, took over. her hand wrapped around him, her strokes deliberate, and the fact that it was her touch that undid him pushed him over. spurts of his release spilled over her hand and dripped onto her bare abdomen, and asahi let out a long, pleasure-filled moan, his body still trembling as she continued to draw out his high.

slowly, her movements ceased, and asahi leaned down, his breath mingling with hers as they shared a soft kiss, a silent promise of contentment between them.

"sahi?" her voice broke the silence.

"yes, beautiful?" he whispered, brushing his lips against hers once more.

"can you make me one in blue?" she asked with a playful smile.

he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her lips. "anything you want, baby," he murmured, his laughter lingering in the air as they lay together, lost in each other's warmth and dimming lust.

heyyyy :)

this is my first time writing for asahi so i hope he's not hella ooc 😭hope you enjoyed tho! leave a like to support <3

got a request? send it in and i'll write it :D

Taglist: @nemoo888 @delicatexmoonchild @flowerpjimin @tedcruzumakii @sugacor3 @selysixn @mitsuyas-version @matchaismylove @cyberrthegreat @ivydoesit23 @riririntaro @ilovechickfilasauce @sincerelyzee @daydreamteardrop @lifesucksweswallow

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princessbrunette · 2 months

Text

tattooartist!pope was pretty nonchalant at times. you could tell he wasn’t always this way, and occasionally he lets the hyperactive dork in him slip out — but he’d had his heart played with too many times, so decided he was going to be petty just like everyone else. now the two of you had a thing going and you just wanted him to show he cared. you wanted to know things were exclusive.

the two of you were on the couch when you decided to bring it up. you didn’t quite have a clear point to make, but clearly you felt comfortable enough to express a particular emotion.

“i can feel you staring at me, you know?” pope chuckles quietly, eyes not removed from his sketchbook as he draws out a few design ideas. in the low lighting of your apartment, the tattoos that cover his neck cluster into one.

“sorry.” you smile, but making no effort to look away.

“is something wrong?” he converses, and is happy to do so. he liked spending time with you after work, it’s why he was here after all.

“do you like— frequently tattoo other girls?”

you watch his pencil slow and he slides his eyes over to you. “i mean… yeah, of course?” he raises an eyebrow when you say nothing. “its kind of my job.”

“yeah, for sure but like — they probably get tattoos in like… super intimate places, right?” you’re looking at your nails now, already feeling dumb about the whole thing. you just couldn’t help it sometimes, couldn’t help feeding the jealousy beast that festered in the pit of your stomach.

“i mean work is work.” he shrugs, but continues to stare at you through the silence. “any reason you’re asking that?”

“no.”

“okay that’s bullshit.” he puts his sketchbook on his lap and turns to face you a little more. it takes about ten seconds, but you look back up at him — even having the audacity to try and look all casual. “so what are you like jealous or something?” pope is suddenly the one feeling vulnerable. scared, even. jealousy means serious. serious means he gets hurt in the end.

“no.” it comes out even quieter. “just forget it. i was curious—”

“—because we aren’t even really dating, you know that?” he croons, but it comes out a lot snippier than intended. you’re silenced instantly, staring ahead at the TV. you decide no answer is needed, bringing your knees to your chest as you pretend to be engrossed in the show infront of you. his lips part, chest heaving with guilt. why the fuck would he say that? “look, i mean… yet.” he shuffles up to you, “admittedly i have some baggage… but i do like you. i don’t… know why i had to say it like that.” he wraps an arm around you and you sulk, a sucker for it.

“i want to get a tattoo.” you pout. “one right between my tits. a bow or something.”

“no you don’t. you just want it because i’m the one doing it for you. you would literally regret it as soon as you step outside the store. i try and encourage my clients to make the right choice, and plus — you quite literally regret the tattoo i did for you on the inside of your lip where no one can see it.” you hear him smirking warmly, his thumb pulling down your puffy bottom lip in gesture to reveal the ink.

“how’d you know?” you mewl.

“i’ve been in this for a while. i just know.”

you turn and look at him now, and he smiles at you — not that cold, withdrawn version of him that rears its ugly head at times— the warm, kind of dorky version. the one you like.

“sorry for being crazy.”

“hey, stay crazy. the majority of geniuses on this planet are a little crazy.”

#tattooartist!pope #pope heyward prompt

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corruptedcaps · 6 months

Text

Clumsy Me

“It’s a super kind gesture Greg but are you sure there are no other pairs of pants I can wear? Not that I’m not grateful but skin tight leggings aren’t really my style. Plus I know your stepmom Madison ran out on you and your dad like a year ago but she’d kill me if she saw me in a pair of her slick black pants. You’re right beggars can’t be choosers put this is just until my own jeans dry in your machine ok? Still can’t believe I tripped like that, did you always have that foot stool there? Whatever, just give me a minute to change.”

“Well what do you think? You hate it right? Wait you like it? I guess it is kind of nice, it makes my figure kind of pop doesn’t it? I never thought I’d have the body to pull off anything like this. Can’t believe I’m the same size as you step mom too. Could never wear some of the things she has in there though. All that luxurious fur, expensive jewelry, and those plunging necklines, I could never! Oh whoops I’m so clumsy today, I’ve gone and spilled the second drink you got me on my top. I’ll just sneak back into your step mom’s closet and find something to wear.”

“There we go, now I’m all dry and warm, despite this new top not covering my navel. When I put it on I realized that something was missing and somehow I knew this belt would tie everything together. I feel so stylish, like one of those bougy bitches at school. Do you think if I wore this to school tomorrow they would notice? I promise I’ll bring it all back after school tomorrow. Thanks!”

“I know I know I said I would bring the clothes back and I have but I just had to borrow some others. My outfit was a big hit with Cassandra and all her friends, they said I showed real promise! Can you believe that? Only last week they were picking on me. But if I show up tomorrow wearing my usual drab unfashionable outfits they’ll start bullying me again. Plus don’t I look kind of hot in this new combo? I’ve never worn such high boots before or such a short skirt. It’s hard to explain but the clothes just kind of call to me and each piece I choose just makes sense. I never had an eye for fashion before but these clothes are bringing the inner designer out in me and I can’t deny the results!”

“Hey there handsome, I need to get a new outfit for tomorrow. The girls were in awe yet again. They were right too, I do look better without my glasses. My head is swimming with ideas of what to wear, it was all I could think of last night. What do you mean no? Greg you don’t understand, I need to keep up appearances otherwise I’m toast! Plus your stepmom isn’t around anymore! Still no huh? Well that’s a shame, because you know what else I was thinking last night? I was thinking how if I have to come over everyday to change then you and I should have some fun too. Don’t be coy, I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me. Look how about you see the lingerie I borrowed, see wouldn’t you like to see me in more?”

“How did I get in here? I made a copy of your key, duh! If I’m going to be your girlfriend I need to be able to get inside your house when you’re not here. Aren’t you glad I did, like look at this new outfit I put together, all the girls are going to be green with envy when they see me. One of them was telling me that Cassandra was starting to feel threatened by my style, that she thinks I’m going to take over the clique! Can you believe that? Me?! It is kind of hot to think of though, me taking over a group of girls who used to bully me and taking down the head bitch herself. Mmmm it’s got me kind of wet, how about you be a good boyfriend and get our knees for me. There’s a reason why I’m wearing a skirt after all.”

“You’re breaking up with me? Why? I have not become a bully! Cassandra was the biggest bitch in our school, I just took her down several pegs. In front of the whole school. While she cried. Sure I made all her old friends block her on socials and refuse to talk to her ever again but she deserved it and now that all her friends are mine now I can run the school how it should be. If that means some of life’s losers get bullied then so be it, they don’t deserve my pity or yours. Come on baby I’m offering you the chance to become king, don’t let your morals get in the way of having me as your queen. Fine if that’s how you feel then fuck you loser, you small dicked prick. I only was with you to get access to you stepmom’s clothes, but I don’t need them or you! So long dork!”

“Oh it’s you creep. Surprised to see me in your house? Well I had every intention of never seeing you again but I was wrong about what I said last week. What? About you? Don’t be stupid, I meant about the clothes. I do NEED them! I bought some hawt clothes of my own but it just wasn’t the same. They weren’t expensive and slutty enough. I was feeling my confidence and power draining over the past few days but now that I’m back in Madison’s clothes I’m feeling more me again. Her bitchy perfume still lingers in their fabric and it’s makes me feel so bad! Your dad let me in and said I should just take whatever I wanted. He was just so accommodating after I put on Madison’s tightest clothes and gave him the best blowjob of his life. He said I should come back everyday and I fully intend on doing so.”

“Mmm your father was right, blonde does make me look older, more mature, more sexy. Wasn’t Madison a blonde? Why am I even asking you, it will only distract you from cooking. To think a few months ago I was giving you the best handjobs of your life so I could have access to Madison’s clothes and now I’m your dad’s fiancée and all the clothes are mine! You could have had me you know? You could have had this perfect ass but you were worried I had become a bully or some nonsense. Your father loves what a bitch I am and encourages me to be a mean spoilt brat by letting me buy whatever I want. Having access to his money allowed me to buy the clothes I deserved! That’s why I love him unconditionally. It certainly helps he’s so well hung, something you never inherited. Speaking of which I think I just heard him come in, I think he and I can slip in a quickie while you cook. Stay if you want to watch perv.”

“Don’t look at me worm, just keep scrubbing the floors. Your father and I want this place spotless when we return from our honeymoon but before we leave I just wanted to tell you a secret. I’m pregnant. I have no doubt it will be a girl and I’m going to raise her to be the biggest, meanest slut there even has been. She’ll have everything her cruel heart desires and I’m going to spoil her rotten. She’ll have my fashion sense of course and your father’s ruthless business acumen. What do you think of Maddy for her name, short for Madison? She’ll be such a wicked princess, and you? Well you’ll be here cleaning the floors everyday for the rest of your life. On that note… oooops I’ve spilled my drink all over your clean floor. I guess I’m just so clumsy.”

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #evil bitch #corrupted clothing #corrupted pov #cc2024

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brokenpieces-72 · 9 months

Text

Home for Holidays

Monster! 141 (mostly Soap) x Hybrid female Reader (jackalope/wendigo)

This is a continuation of the previous fanfic on my page. The only context you need it that the reader is teenager. Mentions @diejager reader character Hunter and is based on designs by @bluegiragi

CW/TW: Mentions of trauma, abuse, family trauma, punishment, origins of wendigo, crying, angst, let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Soon enough Holidays come around and there are no signs of your handler returning to base. Which means you’ll likely be alone on base on the holidays. It’s not the first time so that’s okay but you do get jealous when plans are brought up in conversation.

“So what’ll you be doin lass?” Johnny asks. His friendly face becomes a small frown when you shrug.

“Maybe I’ll just stay on base with Ghost…not sure what else there is. Nowhere to go really…” You say shrugging. Johnny’s brother side comes out in full swing, not just for you but for Simon as well. He knows Simon uses the holidays for his own needs, and doesn’t really stay on base the whole time. Leaving you behind didn’t feel fair to him. Not only that but it’s not fair to you, to have to sit in your room by yourself bored out of your mind.

Johnny makes some calls after that and soon learns there’ll be some paperwork but he doesn’t care. It’ll be worth it.

Nikolai comes to pick people up to take home, and Johnny has you already packed and it basically bouncing on your bed to get you to wake up.

“Come on wheels up lass!”

He’s carrying the duffel you had when you came and hands it to you.

“But-“ you’re half awake as you try to protest.

“No questions. Come on.” He says and you both get on the helicopter. Rudy and Alejandro say good bye to you before you leave and give you a gift to open on Christmas as does Gaz and Price. Ghost sees you off and you tell him you hope he enjoys the privacy.

Johnny takes you to his hometown, and when you land he explains that he made some calls home. And then to Laswell, and the program and few others to make sure everything was sorted.

“Ma didn wantya to be alone. Just know you’ll be put to work still…got dat?” You nod and he takes you to his house after you land, where you meet Soap’s mother and Soap’s older brother. His mother comments a bit on your appearance saying you look a little pale and could afford to put on a couple pounds. Soap gives her a look but you shake it off saying you have been. She gives you a warm smile and helps you find your room.

You have a good time on your leave and it feels a little odd to you. Your family was way different, but Johnny’s is cozy and kind and teasing. You join in on jabs at him, and help around the house as best you can, learning more basic skills like cooking and chopping wood. Johnny takes you to a few different places around, along with his brother, and you even meet a couple of his football buddies. They’re friendly and tell you some stories about Johnny. They ask about the ears and antlers. Johnny lets you answer how you choose, whether it’s as a jackalope or a wendigo. At some point he leaves you with his friends to take care of something and when he comes back, he sees you talking and having a good conversation with them. It’s hard to imagine you were once this simple, shy, apologetic kid and now you had grown into a friendly, healthy teenager.

One night you and Johnny take a minute to relax on a bench before continuing your walk home. The two of you had just left his friend and their partner at a store, and the walk home would be long. Johnny could handle walking in the dark but wanted you to be safe too. You both look out at the street lit up by garlands of lights and shop windows. It was good to finally take a break after all the walking around. You watch people go by and notice body language you didn’t often see on base. Couples holding hands, kids running and skipping, snowballs being thrown, parents swinging their kids. You lean against your knees, following Johnny’s sitting position.

“Are all families like this?” You ask. Johnny notices where you had been looking and shrugs.

“Nah all of em. The good ones are.” Johnny ponders for a moment before inquiring. “Take it you didn ave that.”

You shake your head.

“Wha were they like?” He asks. You go very quiet, and he pays closer attention. It’s not an easy subject, your parents were mean and obsessive over your hybrid features. You were outcasted and isolated. Christmas was a rough time, as you would see people happy outside but never felt the same way.

“…they…they used to yell at me. Sometimes hit me.” You confessed. Johnny looks at you. “It kept escalating… sometimes it was burns or no food for a day. Then one day they grounded me and put me in the basement.” You pause for a shaky breath feeling your throat tighten up. Johnny lets you continue at your own pace. “They gave me raw meat and told me there was nothing else…”

You’re shaking recalling the horrid memory of how you became a wendigo. Your family wasn’t normal and your parents weren’t sane. You only found out how insane they were when it was too late. How cultish they could be.

Johnny doesn’t need you to finish, and instead moves closer to you on the bench and holds you tight. The tears just come down and you nestle into his winter jacket. You feel a gloved hand on your head keeping you close.

“You didn do anythin wrong.” He tells you over and over, tucking your head under his chin. “You’re a good kid. Don’ forgae ‘at.”

You finally pull away after a while and he asks if you’re ready to keep going. You nod, he gives you his arm to cling to while you head home. There are still tears but your face is stinging from the cold, and you’d rather be inside. Johnny tries to change the subject or make some jokes with you. He gets a couple giggles for his dad jokes. When you finally get back, Johnny’s mother notices your tears and gets you some water. She doesn’t ask about it and lets her son handle everything while you curl up on the couch with him watching Die Hard.

You feel more and more comfortable snuggling up to Soap, and he you. He’s taken to calling you ‘pup�� and ‘whelp’. When you walk in to relax with him he offers to shift for you so you can have a soft pillow to rest against. It doesn’t take long before his brother and mother are friendly with you too, spending some alone time with them as well. His mother has taken a shine to you, often asking for some help in the kitchen or showing you cute videos she found online. There’s a couple of Facebook posts usually involving the Grinch or Peanuts cartoons that you find cute, and smile at.

His mom expresses concern multiple times about your wardrobe, noticing you wear the same items in a row.

“If ya wouldna mind me askin dear, didn ya wear that shirt yesterday?”

“Y-yes. Is that bad?” You ask.

“No no of curse not, it’s a nice shirt, but doncha ave other clothes?” She asks. When you shake your head she sets down whatever she is working on. It doesn’t take long for her to check if any of her sons’ old clothes will fit you. The clothes are a little baggy on you, even with the couple extra pounds you’ve gained while staying there but they’ll work. Especially since they’ll likely get torn anyways when you back to base. Honestly his mother is glad they’ll be put to use, and they’re some of the few clothes she has that are intact since Johnny’s form often rips his clothing.

Christmas Eve comes around and Soap is up early for his workout and his mother is up for her meal prep.

“Aye ma? Canna ask you somethin?” Soap asks quietly, not wanting to wake you or give you the chance to hear him.

“Yes?”

“Whatcha think of the lass?”

She takes a moment to think about it.

“Lovely child. Takes after ya a bit moore than I’d like.” She teases. Johnny smiles before unloading a bit on to his mother. “They don’t ave anywhere else to go after this, unless Price keeps em. So it got me thinkin uhh…” his tail twitches awkwardly as she takes note of his tone. His mom has seen how her sons’ tails react when they get a certain way. Before he can ask she answers the question.

“I think ya need to think this over some more. I wouldna mind it… but she’s got as much of a say as you do. Honestly she’s a lovely lass, and I know you’ve taken a shine to her. More than a shine, yer practically her brother. You’ve told me what she is, and I have no qualms but ya better be here for her too. I’m not dealin’ with a hybrid under my roof, alone and at my age.”

“I will ma, thank you.” Johnny decides to bring it up later when you guys head back to base.

Christmas comes and it’s overwhelming for someone unused to large close gatherings. Johnny and his brother make it a habit for at least one of them to stay close to you. Their relatives ask tou questions and get to know you. You don’t unload like you did with Johnny, but when your past comes up you do respond.

“Well my adoptive parents were pretty bad, so after that my social worker put me in the program for rehabilitation and relocation I guess.”

When you get the chance you slip away to take a breath, and relax a bit. The whole situation is crazy after being on a such an isolated family. The holidays weren’t exactly great for you, and sometimes you were alone to open gifts by yourself. The gifts were strange too, often in the form of weird books and strange toys. Looking back, to any normal person the gifts should have been red flags. Johnny finds you soon enough, and asks if you just want some time to yourself.

“This is normal? Spending holidays like this?” You ask. He nods.

“Never got ‘at back ‘ome.”

You shake your head. Johnny isn’t one to show vulnerability but damn you make it hard.

“Fairly normal. You open your gifts yet?” He asks. “Come on we’re about to start opening them.”

You get up and follow him, carrying the gifts you got from the 141 into the living room, and sit down. Anyone seeing the scene would know you were out of place, as everyone was either human or a werewolf. Johnny’s mom sits by you, and has a gift for you too. You open it and you laugh, finding a hoodie for Johnny’s favourite football team. Johnny looks over and basically cheers seeing the hoodie. The gifts from the team are a journal and some stationary and a sketchbook. They’re simple gifts sure but they’re better than anything you had gotten before. They were yours.

Next couple days you spend collecting and drawing around the area. You take the journal everywhere, writing about the things you see and draw your own ideas.

During a visit to a restaurant you notice some humans and draw them as hybrids, giving them tails and wings. Any common or ugly looks from other humans go ignored as you focus on the pencils and paper before you.

Your journal gets filled with cards, photos, stickers, scribbles and a couple of miscellaneous items you find like leaves, flowers and feathers. It’s not long before items are poking out from between the pages marking your progress. You write plenty of thoughts, and even a couple stories about the items you find.

#cod au #hybrid au #wendigo #jackalope #christmas #late christmas post #fanfic #cod oc #john soap mactavish #home for the holidays #fluff #angst with a happy ending #family #monster

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greenboyfriend · 8 months

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choose something cold... (tarot card reading)

"what do you need to know?"

image 1: it's cold. I mean, really cold. but your blood is warm, even if your fingers are blue. where's your soul? image 2: a framed painting depicting a wintry landscape, complete with a log cabin, whose blue smoke trickles from its chimney and blends in with the world around it. image 3: three ornate glasses, made of ice. are those cracks intentional? or just by virtue of its design? image source not everything may resonate with you, and that's ok! take what does & leave the rest. don't force it.

1.・。.・゜✭

there’s an opportunity being presented to you. it may be a celebration of some kind, or just something that has a lot of excitement surrounding it. what i’m getting most of all is that this may be a chance to find freedom. with the seven of swords reversed, maybe you’re the type of person to handle your problems on your own, “lone wolf” style. there’s a million reasons why someone might do this, but for you, you’re afraid or distrusting in others. when you opened up in the past, maybe it didn’t end up so well for you, and this has made you keep things mostly to yourself. however, the four of wands reversed tells us that this lone wolf energy is blocking you from fully enjoying yourself. “freedom”, in this sense, is the freedom from yourself, or rather, your fear. in the original Rider-Waite-Smith deck, the seven of swords shows us a man with his arms full of swords, shirking off to his own devices. for you, these swords represent an unnecessary burden, being wary or even afraid of others to see your true colors/problems/ect. opening yourself back up again is a task much easier said than done, i know. but the 6 of cups shows us what this looks like, once fully realized. when we talk about our problems and emotions, we’re able to release and/or deal with them more easily. i’ve definitely been in the position of worrying endlessly about something, just to finally open up to someone, and realize that the answer was sitting in front of me all along. the six of cups represents this as having a “clean conscience.” being, you’ve released yourself from carrying a burden all alone, and have found freedom– the four of wands. finally, the king of cups reversed reminds you to have patience, and to be tolerant of others. not just one person can supply you with all the information or support you need.

(6 of cups, 7 of swords reversed, 4 of wands reversed, king of cups reversed)

2.・。.・゜✭

you’re in a period of transition, be that between attitudes or people. this change has you feeling down. maybe not emotionally destitute, but not in the best spot, either. as you wade through these waters, know that the queen of swords is by your side, and will lead you to better times. the queen of swords is someone with a good head on her shoulders, and will always tell the truth. she is very forthright, and doesn’t do any under-the-table dealings. she holds herself to these standards because of her past experiences, and knows that an honest, open approach will best suit her motives. you may embody the queen of swords already, and if you do, great! if you don’t, that’s ok, too. but it’s time to start really leaning into that kind of energy. don’t conceal the truth– both to yourself and others–, and let yourself have a laugh every once in a while! the thing about being experienced is that you know not to take everything so seriously. the queen of swords can see the big picture, and knows that, even if right now is tough, later will be much better. the place/person/vibe you’re coming from is represented by the knight of wands. i’m getting, cockiness– to the point where you/they were being presumptuous. this might also have had to do with someone being hot tempered, and restless, where they couldn’t handle being bored, so they’d decide to pick a fight. this energy is still here, but not necessarily causing harm just yet. what’s really impeding your path towards healing is the knight of cups. the knight of cups reversed is in direct opposition with the queen of swords, in the sense that he allows his emotions to take control of him, rather than accurately assessing the truth of his situation. he may let his imagination become overactive, and begin believing things that aren’t true. where the queen of swords faces all her dealings head on, the knight of cups may shade the truth, dance around the issue, or simply hope someone else will deal with it. he may also tend to isolate himself from others, which only worsens his imagination into spurring up unrealistic scenarios and focusing too much on his own “failings.” i’m thinking… you’re going to need to temper the knight of cups with the knight of wands. use that fiery, self confident energy to seek out the truth, rather than make assumptions. and, in turn, the knight of cups can help to deplete those feelings of restlessness through introspection. most importantly, keep your head level, and honor the truth above all.

(queen of swords, 6 of swords, knight of wands, knight of cups reversed)

3.・。.・゜✭

so… there’s a lot to unpack here, image 3! i’ll start with this, the energy of the queens of wands and of pentacles are important right now. the queen of wands seems to be especially important, urging you to work hard to maintain her optimism, confidence, and enthusiasm. this situation will require you to be a sort of “soft” leader for others, where you can be looked to for inspiration. if you’re able to serve as a role model through keeping your head up even when the going gets tough, and to do so with strength and vigor, it will not only help you and your purposes, but will also inspire those around you to do the same. the opportunity to embody this energy is not fully here yet, but once you hear the call, you’ll know it’s for you. strike the iron while it’s hot and give it your all! no time for dilly dallying. in being a leader (even if you’re not completely cognizant of it) you will have to temper your generosity with what you know to be true. so, for example, if someone is late to a meeting one time, you may give them the benefit of the doubt. but if they’re continuously late, some changes need to be made. this can also apply to other situations, where you will need to decide between your loyalties and what’s true & just. you may have already experienced scenarios like this in the past, so it will help you to call back to those times for foresight. doing what is fair may be difficult in the moment, but will lead to the best outcome. the queens come together here to guide you on your way. keep trying! you know that you’re resourceful, so don’t be afraid to try your hand at solving problems. it may also benefit you to remain down to earth during this time, and not to try to control what others think or say. at the end of the day, you are your own person, and what a wonderful person you are! finally, we arrive at the page of cups. i’m getting a very loving, forgiving energy from this card. it may benefit you to invite that energy into your life, both towards yourself and others. when a challenge faces you, or someone is less than nice, decide to turn away that anger with love. consider, what may compel them to act this way? maybe they’re going through something you don’t know about. it’s not that you need to nurture them back to good health, but realize that maybe, they’re just not worth your time, and a simple nod & turning of the cheek will do you both some good. most of all, listen to your intuition to tell you whether or not this argument/situation is really worth getting into.

(queen of wands, 8 of pentacles reversed, 8 of wands reversed, queen of pentacles, ace of swords, 3 of wands reversed, page of cups)

#tarot #tarotblr #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick an image #pac #spirituality #spiritual #witchblr

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 month

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If the Bun's as Sweet as You

Part 2 of Sweet as You

Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x pregnant!wife!baker!reader

Summary: After you find out you're pregnant, you try to use baking jokes to tell Deacon. Unfortunately, he isn't the first to understand you.

Warnings: fluff!! Street and Hondo. r is implied to have an irregular cycle?

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

A/N: I swear I could look at his smile forever. An extra special thanks to @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses for the amazing ideas about using "bun in the oven" and Deac being oblivious!

In your bakery’s kitchen, you sit and press the back of your hand against your mouth. The last week or so, you have been nauseous, and emotional, and the smells you once found mouthwateringly amazing are now causing your stomach to churn.

“What are you making, boss?” your employee Tristan asks. “Smells amazing.”

You increase the pressure of your hand against your mouth while fighting the urge to throw up. It hits you then: you might be pregnant. What other explanation exists for a sudden sensitivity to certain smells and tastes, plus the morning sickness that has been pulling you out of bed even before Deacon wakes?

“Tristan, I need you to take over,” you say quickly. “I have a quick errand to run, and it may turn into a personal day.”

“Sure thing. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. There’s lemon snaps in the oven and cheesecake filling setting in the fridge. Schedule’s on the board, call if you need anything.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about anything, just take care of you.”

You nod in thanks, then hang your apron on its designated hook before gathering your things. There’s a pharmacy just a few blocks away, but you want to take the tests at home rather than in a public restroom.

In less than an hour, you have five tests waiting on your bathroom sink as you sit on the edge of the tub and watch your leg bounce with the timer on your phone. When it dings, you exhale before you stand. You don’t have time to wonder how you’ll feel if they’re negative before you see two pink lines. Then, a plus sign. And a digital message reading ‘Pregnant 3+.’ Every test is positive.

You smile as you gather the tests and place them in a box below the sink. Telling Deacon has to be special, but you don’t want to wait. A baker joke, you think as you prepare to return to the bakery. It will be perfect.

Your stop at the bakery is quick; you ensure Tristan and the rest of your staff are doing well, then gather an assortment of treats. You ensure that Deacon and his team’s known favorites are included before you leave for HQ. Since marrying Deacon, you’ve been welcomed into their station more times than you can count, and they’re family to you.

“Wait,” Deacon says, dropping his guard.

“For what?” Street asks as he steps back.

“See how he perked up like a dog?” Luca points out.

“Uh, yeah.”

Hondo interrupts to explain, “That means his wife is incoming. I’d say in about, three… two…”

“Mrs. Kay!” Rocker yells around the corner.

“I’m getting pretty good at that, Deac!” Hondo brags. “Watch your back, my man.”

“Hi, guys!” you greet as you round the corner.

Rocker is carrying the boxes for you now, and Deacon’s team can’t decide whether to look at you or the baked goods you brought them.

“Dig in, they’re still warm,” you say.

Luca, Hondo, and Street tap your arm gently in thanks as they follow Rocker to a nearby table. Deacon smiles as he exits the ring and walks to your side.

“I missed you,” you murmur as he pulls you into a quick hug.

“Missed you too,” Deacon agrees. “I didn’t get to see you for long this morning. Are you feeling better?”

You nod, remembering that a few hours ago, you were sick but didn’t know why. Now, you press your hand against your thigh to keep it from resting on your nonexistent baby bump.

“I brought your favorite again,” you tell Deacon. “I’ve been thinking that I could use that flavor in some other kind of recipe, maybe make it a bit savory somehow.”

“Anything you make will be amazing.”

“Like you?” you ask, smiling as you lean against his side.

“Like you.” Deacon keeps his arm around your waist and drops his chin to kiss you quickly. He looks at the open boxes and says, “You brought more today.”

“I made a ton,” you agree. Then, you smile as you add, “Plus, there’s a bun in the oven.”

Deacon’s brows furrow, but his smile never drops as he asks, “Just one? That’s a terrible business plan.”

You laugh, caught off guard by how easily your pregnancy announcement went over his head. Deacon has been incredibly attuned to you and your needs since long before you were married. Yet, when you tell him you’re pregnant, he thinks you’re talking about your bakery.

“I’m going to go get some before it’s all gone,” Deacon whispers, carefully removing his arm from around you.

“Enjoy,” you murmur, shaking your head in amusement.

“The weekly visits may have been a terrible idea,” Deacon announces when he returns home after his shift. “It’s just enough time to make me want you around more.”

“I’m sure Hondo feels the same,” you agree.

“What are you up to?”

Deacon wraps his arms around your waist and drops his chin to your shoulder, pressing a kiss against your neck. You lean against him and set your pen aside, the beginnings of a new recipe jotted down in your favorite recipe binder.

“I started baking a new recipe,” you begin carefully, “but it won’t be ready for 8 months, give or take.”

Deacon hums, then asks, “How do you get your recipes so perfect? Besides being brilliant and all the time you put in?”

You close your eyes, smile, and drop your head against his shoulder. Deacon is smart, but it seems he’s entirely oblivious when it comes to a baby.

“Mostly time, trial and error,” you answer. “Which hopefully only applies to baking and not making other things.”

“Are you going to work tomorrow?” Deacon asks.

“No. Why? Did you get called in?”

“You’re stuck with me.”

You hum and decide to try a more direct approach. “I promise that if I jump out of bed and run to the bathroom to be sick, it’s not because of you,” you joke. “The bun in my oven just doesn’t seem to like mornings.”

Deacon nods against you before he steps back and offers to make dinner. You consider showing him the positive tests, but now you want to see how long it will take for Deacon to realize what you’ve been trying to tell him all day.

Forty-eight hours after learning that you are expecting a baby with your husband, Deacon, he has yet to catch on to a single one of your hints. You’ve tried every version of the ‘bun in the oven’ line, mentioned that you shouldn’t have rum cake, made jokes about your morning sickness, and even pointed out that being a baker is the perfect occupation to make it easier to eat for two. Deacon Kay is oblivious, you’ve discovered.

So, to get your mind off the dilemma of how to tell your husband without just blurting out I’m pregnant, you’ve taken to experimenting in the kitchen. When the third batch of your sweet and savory cookie crisps is finished, you carry the tray around the bakery and ask for your employees’ opinions. After six of them give you a thumbs up and one admits that she doesn’t like crunchy cookies, you package the new item and wave goodbye to your kitchen assistant.

You’re going over your weekly visit to SWAT HQ, but you don’t care. As you walk in, you hear Deacon talking.

“Hello, beautiful,” Hondo calls. “I finally beat Deacon to you.”

“Not by much,” Deacon points out as he walks to your side. “Whoa, what are those?”

“They don’t have a name yet,” you answer, passing the box to him. “They’re a twist on a savory chocolate chip cookie crisp.”

“I’m sorry,” Hondo tells you, laying his hand on your shoulder. “Your husband was distracted by the cookies. How are you feeling?”

Deacon rolls his eyes and passes the box of cookies to Street.

“How did you come up with this recipe?” Luca inquires.

You decide that now, surrounded by your friends, is as good a time as any to try one more time.

“I think the bun in the oven is making me a better baker,” you admit.

The men around you freeze, and everything is silent for several seconds.

“Congratulations!” Luca exclaims, hugging you tightly.

Hondo points at you with a bright smile and says, “You can’t give me that look when I call you Mama now!”

“Oh my gosh,” Street murmurs, reaching toward your stomach. “Can we call them Cookie?”

You laugh and say, “Sounds like I’m bloated, but sure.”

“What?” Deacon asks slowly. When you look back at him, his eyes are wide, and his brows are raised high on his forehead. “What?” he repeats.

“I’ve been telling you for two days, Deacon!”

“No, you haven’t!”

You smile and take Deacon’s hand. “You’re way too pretty to be this oblivious.”

“Hey, if pretty’s all you’re after,” Hondo interjects, shrugging as he raises a cookie toward his mouth.

“Back off,” Deacon chides playfully. He looks at you and asks, “You’re pregnant?”

You smile and nod as you raise your hands to his shoulders. “You’re going to be a dad, Sergeant Kay.”

Deacon’s eyes brighten as he smiles. Then, his smile drops long enough for him to mumble, “Oh.”

“You just caught on to everything I’ve been saying,” you accuse.

Deacon kisses you rather than admitting you’re right but pulls back quickly when Street asks, “Hey, can I be the godfather?”

“Over my dead body,” Hondo answers lowly.

“I feel like we’re interrupting something,” you whisper to Deacon.

“I love you,” Deacon replies.

“I love you, too. And if this baby is anywhere near as sweet as you, everyone here is going to love them, too.”

“We'll love Cookie, you mean,” Street calls.

#david deacon kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay fluff #deacon kay #david kay #swat cbs #swat x reader #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

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seongwars · 2 months

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away with the wind | vii

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: a spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Word Count: 6.8K Warnings: description of dragon anatomy, swearing, power saw and gore, mentions of attempted unaliving on someone

Fic Masterlist

Mingi, Age 14

“Hey, if I throw this egg into a volcano, do you think it’ll hatch?” you asked, poking the egg in your sling. Mingi chuckled, poking the egg alongside you.

“You’ll never know unless you try. I heard Mount Hala is due for another explosion.”

“It has been 150 years,” you added with a sigh, resting your chin on the egg. “Have you decided on a breed yet?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “No, I’m not feeling any of the options that I’ve been presented with.”

“You can always borrow one of our dragons. I’m sure San’s family also has some out in Dune.”

“Your dragons are too…” he racked his brain, trying to find the word to describe your family’s brood of Dreamwoods. Delicate? Feminine?

“Your dragons are too… refined,” he teased. “I need something with a bit more edge, you know?”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Refined? That’s a polite way to put it. But seriously, you should consider it. Dreamwoods are pretty rider oriented.”

Mingi nodded, his expression turning serious. “I know. And I appreciate the offer. But I want to find a dragon that feels like it’s truly mine, one that I can bond with from the start.”

“I get it. The bond between a rider and their dragon is special. You’ll find the right one, I’m sure of it.” You smiled, understanding his sentiment.

The courtyard was quiet, the usual hustle and bustle of the academy momentarily paused. The two of you sat on a stone bench, the egg nestled safely between you. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the grounds, creating a serene atmosphere that contrasted with the usual energy of the place.

“You’d let me know if you found the one, right?” you asked, your voice soft but earnest.

“Of course,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours with a promise of honesty and trust.

A comfortable silence settled between you, the kind that only close friends could share. After a moment, you broke it with a sigh. “Those girls in your anatomy class approached me again. They insist that we’re dating.”

Mingi raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. “Is it really such a crime to fall asleep on my shoulder?”

“Yes, to your fangirls at least,” you teased, leaning your head on his shoulder for emphasis. “They might riot against me.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, I guess I should be flattered. But honestly, they have nothing to worry about. You’re the only one who gets this privilege.”

“Lucky me,” you chuckled, lifting your head.

Mingi’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a mix of affection and sincerity. “You are lucky. And so am I.” His words carried a deeper meaning, one that spoke of the unspoken connection you shared.

“Well, not so lucky that I’m stuck on cavern duty. Again. Sunmi has another date and promised she’d take the next shift,” you pouted, your lips forming a small frown. The thought of spending another long, lonely night in the caverns was far from appealing.

“Make sure you don’t get too bored down there,” he chuckled, earning a punch to his arm.

Mingi was in the middle of a nap when your, specially designated ringtone, woke him up. He groggily reached for the device, blinking away the remnants of sleep as he launched the hologram.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asked, concern evident in his voice as he rubbed his eyes and sat up, trying to focus on the screen.

“It’s…it’s a baby,” you said, holding up your newborn hatchling. The tiny dragon squirmed in your hands, its scales shimmering in the light. Its eyes, still adjusting to the world, blinked slowly as it nestled closer to you.

Mingi’s eyes widened with a mix of surprise and excitement. He leaned closer to the hologram, his face lighting up. “You mean it hatched? That’s incredible!”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. “She’s finally here.”

Mingi’s expression softened, a look of genuine happiness spreading across his face. “She’s beautiful, Y/N. Have you thought of a name yet?”

You nodded, wiping at your runny nose. “Cirrus.”

“Cirrus… that’s perfect. I’m happy for you,” he chuckled softly, the sound tinged with a hint of wistfulness.

“Come over! Please, you have to meet her!”

Mingi wasted no time. He quickly threw on a jacket, his heart pounding with excitement. The journey to your family’s home felt longer than usual, his mind racing with thoughts of meeting the newborn hatchling. When he finally arrived, he barely had time to knock before you flung the door open, a wide smile on your face.

“Come in, come in!” you grabbed his hand, leading him inside. The warmth of your home enveloped him, and he could hear the soft cooing of the hatchling from the den. The tiny dragon was nestled comfortably in a pile of soft blankets, looking around curiously as you approached her with Mingi.

“Here she is,” you said softly, picking up Cirrus and cradling her in your arms. “Mingi, meet Cirrus.”

“I guess since you have a dragon, you can start flying with her,” Mingi said with a grin, gently poking Cirrus’ snout as you offered her your shoulder. Cirrus blinked up at him, her tiny tongue flicking out as she sniffed his fingers before leaning into his touch, purring softly.

“Give it a year,” you replied, stroking her delicate wings. “I’d squish her right now if I tried.”

Cirrus chirped, her bright eyes darting around as if she understood the conversation. “She’s going to be amazing,” Mingi said, his voice filled with certainty. “Just like her rider.”

“I’ll punch you,” you squeaked, your voice high-pitched with embarrassment as a blush crept onto your face. Your cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink, and you quickly looked away, trying to hide your flustered expression.

Mingi watched you with Cirrus, a pang of envy twisting in his chest. He tried to mask it with a smile, but the feeling was hard to ignore. It wasn’t that he was picky, he wanted a dragon that could match his ambitions and soar to the heights he dreamed of. Seeing you with Cirrus, already so effortlessly bonded, made him yearn for that same connection.

Mingi, Age 15

“Come to Halazia with me.”

“Are you crazy?” Your eyes widened in disbelief. Mingi chuckled, shaking his head.

“Not at all. The recruiter from Cromer Labs said he has a contact in Halazia who might have a dragon for me.”

“Really!? What kind?”

“A hybrid.”

You stared at him, trying to process the information. “Hybrid dragons? Like, between different breeds?”

“Exactly,” Mingi replied, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “They’re creating dragons with unique abilities. It’s the future of racing!”

Curiosity and fear churned in your stomach. While you adored Mingi and supported his desire to become an accomplished rider, your philosophies when it came to dragon breeding were the complete opposite. You valued the generations of dragons that had been carefully nurtured and respected the ancient traditions that guided their care. The notion of interfering with their natural evolution felt like a profound betrayal of your core beliefs.

Mingi, on the other hand, was captivated by the potential of hybrid dragons. He saw them as the future, a means to transcend the existing boundaries of what dragons could become. His enthusiasm was infectious, yet it also underscored the significant divide in your perspectives.

“Mingi, I don’t know,” you began, your voice tinted with uncertainty. “I mean Halazia is a two and a half hour train ride. What if something goes wrong?”

Mingi’s expression softened as he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently grasp yours. “I get that you’re worried, but think about the possibilities. These dragons could change racing, and bring something new to the sport. We could be part of something groundbreaking.”

“You mean you could be a part of something groundbreaking,” you said with a small smile. “I’m perfectly fine with Cirrus.”

Mingi nodded, his expression serious. “I understand, and I respect that. But sometimes, to honor the past, we have to embrace the future. And I can’t pass up a Longhorn and Fury hybrid! So please?”

A knot of apprehension tightened in your stomach. The hybrid pairing was uncharted territory, and certainly intriguing, but it also carried uncertainties. Star Furies were an incredibly rare and protected species endemic to Mount Hala, whereas Longhorns were primarily used in war. You knew that combining the traits from both dragons could result in an unpredictable and volatile mix.

“Did the recruiter leave a card with you?”

“Yeah, he did.” Mingi dug into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, holographic card, handing it to you.

You turned the card over in your hands, the surface catching the light and reflecting a rainbow of colors. It felt cool and smooth, like dragon scales, shimmering with every move. It struck you as odd that there wasn’t a name on it, just a contact number and an address in Halazia. The mystery of it all made your heart race a little faster.

“Are you really thinking about this?” you asked, your voice a mix of excitement and worry.

Mingi nodded, his eyes shining with determination. “I know it's risky, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. The recruiter said that they’ll sponsor me after graduating if I commit to the organization. I’ll finally be able to have a dragon of my own.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the determination and hope there. It was hard to resist his passion, his vision of what could be. “Alright,” you said slowly, “I’ll go with you to Halazia. But we take it one step at a time, and if it feels wrong, we come back.”

The train ride to Halazia was a journey filled with anticipation. You and Mingi had boarded the first train out of Aurora, eager to embark on his adventure with him. As you settled into your seats, you couldn’t help but notice the blend of old-world charm and cutting-edge technology that defined the train’s interior. Plush seats with intricate embroidery provided comfort, while large windows offered panoramic views of the passing landscapes.

Before boarding, you had made sure Cirrus was safely waiting close by the station, ready to fly to you at a moment’s notice.

The train glided smoothly along the tracks, the scenery outside transformed from Aurora’s bustling cityscape to the serene countryside, with rolling hills, dotted with vibrant wildflowers, stretched out as far as the eye could see. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the tracks created a soothing backdrop, but despite the tranquility, a sense of unease lingered. Your mind kept drifting back to thoughts of danger, the anxiety gnawing at the edges of your consciousness, refusing to be completely drowned out by the peaceful surroundings.

As the train drew closer to Halazia, your fidgeting intensified, an unending feeling of dread filling you. The landscape began to change once more. Mount Hala loomed in the distance, its peak shrouded in mist, hinting at the wild, untamed beauty that awaited beyond Halazia’s neon lights and bustling markets. Mingi’s head rested on your shoulder, weary from a night spent in eager anticipation of acquiring a new dragon.

The bustling market of Halazia’s center was alive with vibrant colors and the hum of countless conversations. You and Mingi navigated through the crowd, the neon lights casting a surreal glow on the cobblestone streets. Still groggy from his sleepless night, held your hand tightly as he approached the pickup point.

You arrived at a quiet corner of the market, where a small booth selling exotic herbs stood. Behind the counter, a woman in a sleek, dark jacket and a wide-brimmed hat awaited. Her sharp, discerning eyes met yours as you approached.

Mingi cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “My heart is fierce, my spirit a race.” he said confidently. The vendor nodded and slipped behind the stall. You scanned your surroundings, identifying the clearest exit routes through the bustling crowd, just in case the meeting took an unexpected turn.

Moments later, the vendor reappeared, cradling a small bundle wrapped in a soft blanket. She gently unwrapped it to reveal a tiny dragon hatchling, its red scales amplified under the neon signs littering the main street.

You watched as Mingi reached out to gently stroke the hatchling’s head. The hatchling responded with a soft, contented chirp, but you noticed a slight, almost imperceptible twitch of its tail. Its eyes, though curious, occasionally flickered with a hint of agitation, reflecting the neon lights in a way that seemed almost too intense. The vendor’s quick, almost nervous glances at the dragon and her hurried movements suggested that there might be more than she initially let on.

“He’s got a fire in his eyes,” Mingi cooed, reaching out to the hatchling. The hatchling’s grip was surprisingly strong, its tiny claws wrapping around Mingi’s finger with a determined hold. The dragon’s eyes, a vibrant shade of amber, reflected a fierce intelligence and spirit.

“The payment?” the vendor asked, her voice cutting through the moment.

“Right.” Mingi handed the hatchling over to you as he completed the transaction. The dragon squirmed slightly in your arms, its scales warm to the touch. You could feel its tiny heart beating rapidly, a reminder of its fragile yet fierce nature. As you held him, you sensed an underlying restlessness in its movements, a subtle tension that hinted at a temperamental instability.

Mingi, Age 19

Mingi and Ajax descended from the sky after another round of practicing flight patterns. The wind rushed past them, the exhilaration of flight still fresh in Mingi’s veins. Ajax folded his wings with a graceful sweep, the powerful muscles rippling under his crimson scales as Mingi climbed down from the saddle.

The crimson dragon’s nose twitched, as if sensing a threat. His nostrils flared, and he let out a low, rumbling growl that reverberated through the ground beneath Mingi’s feet. The sound was deep and menacing, a clear warning. Mingi turned to see another dragon, an equally large, imposing creature with green scales, entering the training area with its rider, Hong Jisoo.

“Hey Mingi,” the elder waved. Mingi returned the nod, his eyes still focused on his dragon.

“Easy,” he said, placing a calming hand on Ajax’s side. But his focus was entirely on the newcomer, his body coiled and ready to react. The other dragon let out defensive chuff, and Ajax responded with a growl, his wings flaring out in a display of dominance.

Mingi knew he had to act quickly to prevent a confrontation. “Ajax, focus,” he commanded, skillfully swinging himself back into the saddle. Ajax’s eyes flicked to Mingi, but the presence of the other dragon was too much. With a sudden burst of energy, he lunged forward, his claws digging into the ground as he prepared to attack.

“Ajax, no!” Mingi shouted, pulling hard on the reins. But Ajax ignored him, his eyes locked on the green dragon. Mingi could feel the strain in his arms as he struggled to hold his dragon back, the strength overwhelming.

The dragon’s growls grew louder, his body trembling with the urge to fight. Mingi’s heart pounded in his chest, the realization hitting him hard: Ajax didn’t respect him. The bond they were supposed to share was fragile, and in moments like this, it felt almost nonexistent.

“Ajax almost got into it with Hong Jisoo’s dragon,” Mingi sighed, plopping down next to you on the bench. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion, and he ran a hand through his tousled hair. Your eyes widened in alarm, and you immediately grabbed hold of his shoulders, your grip firm and concerned.

“Is everything okay? How’s the other dragon? What are they gonna do with Ajax–” you blurted out, your words tumbling over each other in a rush of worry. Your mind raced with worst-case scenarios, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“It’s fine,” he reassured you, bringing your hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Jisoo barely stepped out of the pit when Ajax went after them. He was able to turn back and close the gate before any damage could be done.”

“You do know that his father is a member of the Council.”

“Yeah, but unlike his father, Jisoo knows how unpredictable dragons can be, especially when they’re still getting used to their riders.”

But it’s been four years, you wanted to say. Fours years later and Ajax is still as defiant as ever, his unpredictability and stubbornness a constant challenge. You bit your lip, holding back the words, not wanting to add to Mingi’s stress. Instead, you squeezed his hands, offering him a comforting smile.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: Statement from the Inferno Cup Organizing Committee

[AURORA, EMPIRE OF AURORA] – “The Inferno Cup Organizing Committee deeply regrets the abrupt cancellation of the Inferno Cup following an unexpected and unprecedented altercation that occurred during the event. Our primary concern remains the safety and well-being of all participants, spectators, and staff.

We are working closely with local authorities and experts to investigate the cause of the altercation and to implement measures that will prevent such occurrences in the future. The safety of our participants and spectators is our utmost priority.

The ICOC remains committed to the spirit of the competition and the community it fosters. We are exploring options for rescheduling the event and will provide updates as soon as they become available. Our goal is to ensure that the Inferno Cup can continue to be a safe and enjoyable experience for all.

We extend our gratitude to the keepers, security personnel, and staff who acted swiftly to manage the situation. We also thank our supporters and participants for their continued support and understanding.”

Yechan closed out of the article with a sigh, the screen dimming as he leaned back in his chair. The lab, normally a bustling hive filled with activity, was eerily quiet. The usual chatter of colleagues were absent, leaving an unsettling silence. He glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time with a slight frown.

“Dr. Kang! You have a necropsy report due at the end of the week!” he called out to his boss, Dr. Kang Yeosang. Yechan, ever so practical, always kept track of schedules and ensured that the lab ran smoothly.

“Eh?” Yeosang looked genuinely surprised, his eyes widening behind his thick glasses. He was engrossed in his own world, muttering to himself as he examined a set of data on his tablet.

“The Council ordered it to be done before making a decision on Song Mingi’s investigation,” the assistant explained patiently, used to Dr. Kang’s forgetfulness. “Dragon 809.”

Yeosang’s quirky demeanor was well-known among his colleagues. Despite his airheadedness, his brilliance was undeniable. He had a habit of talking to himself, often lost in thought even in the midst of conversations.

“Oh, is it about our failed experiment? Shame,” Yeosang sighed, dragging his feet over to Ajax’s giant, severed head, playfully patting the snout. His lab coat was slightly askew, and his glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose as he shuffled away from the examination table.

“Perhaps the Kuku’s intellect overstimulated the Longhorn,” his other assistant Minjae chimed in. “It explains his independent nature and inability to bond with his rider.”

“Yes, that’s a possibility,” Yeosang tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Although the Kuku component of 809’s DNA did show promise. He was able to mimic that Dreamwood’s movements with remarkable precision.”

He scratched his head, his hair sticking up in odd angles, a testament to the long hours he had spent in the lab. “I suppose we’ll have to move on to the next experiment. Again.” Yeosang let out a tired chuckle. “Perhaps next time we should consider neural compatibility more carefully. The synaptic responses of the Kuku might have been too advanced for the Longhorn’s neural pathways,” he mused aloud, Minjae already jotting down notes for the next iteration of their experiment.

“Ah, poor Mingi. All he wanted was a dragon,” Yeosang mused, slipping the gloves on with a snap. Donning a mask and face shield, he marveled at his creation—the culmination of years of genetic engineering. The large lab lights cast an eerie glow on Ajax’s lifeless form, highlighting the intricate details of his scales and the sheer size of his head.

The Nettled Kuku’s agility and intelligence had been merged with the Lunar Longhorn’s brute strength and resilience, resulting in a creature of unparalleled power and terror. He recalled the first successful fusion, the moment when Ajax had taken his first breath. It had been a moment of triumph, a vindication of his relentless pursuit of perfection. But the dragon was only one of many monsters born of Yeosang’s hubris.

Ajax’s eyes, now lifeless, were partially open, revealing the once vibrant amber that had held so much intelligence and fire. Yeosang approached with reverence and curiosity, his gloved hands steady as he prepared for the necropsy. The dragon’s massive jaws were slightly ajar, showcasing rows of razor-sharp teeth. His tongue, now still, lay limp against the lower jaw.

“Open wide, Ajax,” he sang, as he began to saw his way into the massive skull. The sound of the tool was jarring, but Yeosang’s steady hands and focused expression showed his expertise. The lab was filled with the scent of antiseptic and the quiet hum of machinery, a stark contrast to the vibrant life the Ajax once had.

The days following the abrupt end of the Inferno Cup were a whirlwind of media frenzy. Reporters were lined up outside of the training grounds, the House Park estate, and skyway, jostling for a position, microphones in hand, eager to capture the next big scoop.

The once vibrant grounds of the skyway now stood eerily silent. Training and events for all riders were postponed indefinitely as a safety precaution, leaving the usually bustling training grounds deserted.

Mingi found himself at the center of the storm, his every move documented by the press and scrutinized by the Council alike. He couldn’t step outside without being bombarded by questions, each one more probing than the last. The pressure was immense, but he maintained his defiant stance, refusing to show any sign of weakness, especially after the Council’s snap decision to put Ajax down.

The keepers had neutralized Ajax, forcing him into submission as they corralled him into a containment unit. Mingi watched helplessly, his heart pounding in his chest. He could see the defiance in the dragon’s eyes, the way Ajax’s muscles tensed against the restraints, every sinew straining in a futile attempt to break free.

His eyes darted over towards you as Cirrus lowered a wing, creating a makeshift ramp for you. The scene was surreal, the contrast between the chaos of the altercation and the serene, almost gentle gesture of your dragon. He envied the bond you had with her—a bond forged through trust and mutual respect, a complete contrast from his partnership with Ajax.

He watched as you ascended down from her wing, your movements fluid and confident, despite your life altering injury–a testament to the deep connection you shared with Cirrus. The dragon’s eyes followed you with unwavering loyalty, a silent promise of protection and companionship.

“Mingi, it’s over.”

Your words echoed in his head. Your cheeks were flushed and breath coming in gasps as your body was reeling from the blows Cirrus had delivered to Ajax. He looked at you, pleading to reassure him that it wasn’t over. That everything he worked for was still within his grasp.

“Mr. Song,” a keeper interjected, his tone grave and respectful.

Mingi turned, a frown creasing his brow. “What is it?”

The keeper hesitated for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the message he had to deliver. “I regret to inform you that the Council has reached a decision regarding your dragon. They have determined that euthanasia is the only viable option.”

Mingi’s face paled, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief. The weight of the keeper’s words settled heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the harsh realities they all faced.

“Is there no other way?” he asked, his voice trembling with desperation.

The keeper shook his head solemnly. “I’m afraid not. It’s the only way to ensure the safety of everyone.”

The keeper bowed and returned to the crowd of other keepers preparing to transport Ajax to his death. Mingi watched them, his heart breaking with each step they took. While he occasionally regarded Ajax as a partner, the dragon primarily embodied his ambitions, serving as a means to achieve his goal of becoming a top dragon rider. Now, watching Ajax being led away, Mingi felt a profound sense of loss. It wasn’t just the dragon he was losing, but the dreams and aspirations that had driven him for so long.

The Council of Aurora served as the governing body entrusted with the oversight of the political and social welfare of dragon riders within the empire. Under the leadership of Chairman Jang, the Council was chiefly responsible for administering Aurora’s political matters, including the arbitration of disputes, the regulation of dragon care standards, and the promotion of the esteemed history and traditions of dragon riding. This mandate also encompassed the supervision of the rules and regulations governing dragon racing.

The fight had drawn significant attention, not only because of its ferocity but also due to the involvement of Park Seonghwa. With Seonghwa’s status, the Council was alarmed by the potential implications of such a powerful and unpredictable dragon, like Ajax, instigating the altercation and threatening Seonghwa’s life. Consequently, they initiated an investigation to ensure that all rules and regulations had been strictly adhered to.

“Thank you for coming today, Mr. Song.” Chairman Jang’s voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable authority.

Mingi stared coldly ahead, without a hint of emotion. His posture was rigid, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he faced the Council. The room was grand, with high ceilings and walls adorned with tapestries depicting the rich history of dragon riding.

Chairman Jang, a man of gentle demeanor but firm principles, leaned forward slightly. “I trust you are aware that your dragon caused quite a disturbance at the Inferno Cup?”

Mingi’s jaw tightened. “Yes.”

“The Council had the opportunity to review the footage and would like to ask for your account of the situation.” Jang’s tone was measured, seeking understanding rather than confrontation.

Mingi’s eyes flickered with frustration, but he took a deep breath and began. “I saw an opportunity to push Ajax to his limits, to see how he would handle the pressure. I provoked him intentionally.”

Lady Lee interjected, her voice sharp and cutting. “And you believe this justified your actions, Mr. Song? Provoking your dragon in such a public and dangerous setting?”

Mingi’s jaw tightened further, his teeth grinding together. “I didn’t plan for things to get out of hand. Lord Park’s reaction,” he stressed Seonghwa’s title with a hint of disdain, “was unexpected.”

“So you admit that your actions directly led to the confrontation?”

“I admit that my timing was off.”

“Your timing led to chaos, Mr. Song. You endangered not only yourself and your dragon but also the lives of others present at the race,” Lord Hong said, his expression stern and unyielding. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, a reminder of the gravity of Mingi’s actions. “For the sake of experimenting with your dragon’s strength and fortitude?”

“Risks are necessary in our line of work, Lord Hong,” Mingi retorted, his eyes flashing with determination. “I assumed you of all people would know since your son is a rider himself.” His words were a calculated jab, meant to provoke a reaction.

Lord Hong’s eyes narrowed at Mingi’s audacity. He leaned back slightly in his seat, his fingers drumming on the armrest as he scowled. “Your confidence is commendable, Mr. Song, but overconfidence can be your downfall. Might I remind you that while you may be a skilled rider, you can be unseated by a single misstep. In your case, losing control of your dragon.” His voice was low and measured, each word a deliberate warning.

Chairman Jang sighed softly, his gaze steady but filled with disappointment. “Recklessness cannot be justified by the pursuit of strength.”

Mingi’s shoulders tensed, but he remained silent, his eyes locked on the unimposing elderly man. “With all due respect, Chairman Jang, pushing boundaries is how we grow stronger as riders.”

“Your arrogance is astounding, Mr. Song!" Lady Lee shook her head, clearly exasperated.

Lord Kim, who had been silent until now, leaned forward. “Mr. Song, what is your relation to Lord Park?”

Mingi’s expression hardened. “I consider Lord Park to be a rival.”

“And how did this rivalry come to be?”

Mingi thought for a moment before replying. “We were both competing in the Auroran Gran Prix. During the race, I saw an opening and made a bold move to gain an advantage. It was a risky maneuver, but he managed to recover.”

Lord Kim nodded thoughtfully. “So, it was a competitive encounter?”

Mingi nodded. “Yes, but it wasn’t personal. We both wanted to win, and that’s how racing goes.”

“And what of Lady L/N? She did try and intervene on Lord Park's behalf.”

Mingi froze when Lord Kim brought up your name. His feelings towards you were complicated. His eyes darkened, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Lady L/N has nothing to do with this.”

“Answer the question, Mr. Song,” Lord Hong pressed.

Mingi clenched his fists, struggling to maintain his composure. “My former fiancée and Park Seonghwa’s current trainer,” he finally admitted, his voice laced with bitterness. The words tasted like ash in his mouth, a painful reminder of what he had lost.

When Mingi first learned that you had been hired by Park Seonghwa, he brushed it off, indifferent to the news. He convinced himself that it didn’t matter, that your decision was inconsequential to him. However, as time passed, the reality of your choice began to eat away at him. It wasn’t about wanting you back; it was about not wanting Seonghwa to have you.

Lady Lee raised an eyebrow. “Are you indicating this altercation stemmed from a lover’s quarrel?”

Mingi’s eyes flashed with anger. “No. I assure you, Lady L/N had nothing to do with the fight. This matter is strictly between Lord Park and myself.”

“Personal entanglements are not relevant to the investigation, Lady Lee.” Chairman Jang cleared his throat, attempting to steer the conversation back to more pressing matters. “We need to look at the facts presented before us. How did you go about sourcing your dragon, Mr. Song?”

Mingi took a deep breath, grateful for the shift in focus. “I was approached by a recruiter from Cromer Labs. They came to the academy looking to sponsor a few riders for a scholarship. The recruiter was particularly interested in my performance during the trials and mentioned that they would provide riders with a dragon should they commit to the organization.”

“Commit, how?” Lord Hong asked, his eyebrows raised in mild curiosity.

“Commit to racing for the organization,” Mingi replied, his voice steady. “After graduating from the academy, Cromer Labs became one of my primary sponsors. With their support, I’ve been able to participate in high-profile races and competitions, as well has have access to a state of the art training facility.”

Lord Kim sat up, his interest clearly piqued. “What else can you tell us about Cromer Labs?”

“Their research is aimed at reducing the prevalence of inherited diseases in dragons,” Mingi replied, his tone measured and precise.

“Is that all?” Lord Kim pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Yes,” Mingi confirmed, maintaining eye contact.

The elder Kim nodded, signaling the end of his questioning. Despite his composed exterior, he felt uneasy, his mind racing with thoughts about the lab’s work. The implications of such research were vast, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Cromer Labs than met the eye.

The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of the discussion hanging heavily in the air. Each member of the council seemed lost in their own thoughts. After a few moments, Lord Kim finally broke the silence. “I suggest ending today’s round of questioning,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of concern. “I have a number of other obligations to attend to. Shall we resume at a later date?”

The other council members nodded in agreement, their expressions serious. Chairman Jang nodded in agreement. “That sounds like a prudent course of action.”

As they began to gather their belongings, the atmosphere remained tense, heavy with the implications of what they had learned—or failed to learn—from their initial round of questioning. As Mingi exited the chambers, he felt a wave of relief wash over him, grateful that his pride remained intact.

The doors creaked open, and he stepped out of the council room, his eyes meeting yours. You stood there with your arms crossed, heart pounding as you prepared to confront him. You could see the weariness of the last few days etched on Mingi’s face.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “A friend of a friend said you’d be here.” You glanced behind Mingi toward the grand council room.

He scoffed, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Park Seonghwa’s got you spying on me now?” His tone was accusatory, but there was a hint of hurt in his eyes.

“He doesn’t even know you’re here today,” you replied, your voice firm and unwavering. You took a step closer, closing the distance between you. The air between you was thick with tension. “I came because I wanted to talk.”

In the days following the fight with Ajax, uneasiness consumed you as the confrontation replayed in your mind. But you didn't have to what drove him to such extremes—you already knew. To find clarity in the chaos he created, you knew you needed closure from Mingi.

Mingi sighed deeply, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off a headache. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” he muttered.

“I want to know the truth.” Your words were sharp, cutting through the silence like a knife. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he struggled to maintain his composure.

He glanced around the room, before finally meeting your gaze. “Let’s go somewhere more private. Please.” His voice was softer now, almost pleading, and you could see the cracks in his exterior beginning to show.

You followed him outside. The late afternoon air was cool, a stark contrast to the stuffy corridors of the Courthouse. The courtyard was quiet, a small oasis of calm amidst the bustling city.

Mingi leaned against the stone wall, his posture tense. He studied you, his eyes searching for any sign of deceit or hidden motives. “You’ve changed,” he finally said.

He observed the way you stood, the determination in your eyes, and the strength in your stance that hadn’t been there before. It was as if the challenges you faced during your recovery had forged a new version of you, one that was both familiar and foreign to him.

“We’ve both changed,” you corrected. He looked away, his gaze drifting to the ground, as if the weight of his actions was too much to bear. “Why’d you do it?” you finally asked.

“I don’t know,” he muttered.

“You do know, Mingi,” you replied, your tone filled with disappointment. “You knew exactly what you were doing by going after Seonghwa.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the consequences of his actions. Mingi’s eyes hardened. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice trembling. “I had to prove myself, to show that I could be just as good, if not better.”

“Don’t lie to me. You weren’t out there trying to prove yourself,” you said, your voice breaking.

Mingi’s defiance wavered, his shoulders slumping as the reality of his actions weighed heavily on him. He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours filled with desperation and vulnerability.

“I didn't want to lose you to him,” he confessed, his voice barely audible, filled with a raw honesty.

You were at a loss for words, the weight of his confession hitting you like a wave. You chuckled darkly, wanting to lash out at him for his pathetic excuse.

“You didn’t want to lose me?” you chuckled bitterly. “Stop with the excuses Mingi, you cheated on me.”

“I know I don’t have the right to feel hurt because I cheated on you but when I saw you him I just–” he began, his voice pleading.

“No. The truth is that you didn’t want to be with someone broken,” you spat bitterly, your words laced with pain and anger. You noticed the corner of his lip twitch, a signal that there was truth to what you had said.

"You, an S-class rider, at the top of your game, didn't want to be with someone who could have been disabled the rest of her life! Because it would've been horrible for your reputation."

Mingi’s eyes widened at your words, the silence between you was deafening, each second seeming more like an eternity. He thought about saying something, denying your claim, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

“You are selfish and reckless, blinded by your own ambitions. You’re jealous and insecure and have no problem sabotaging others to get what you want. And that means taking out Park Seonghwa.”

“You’d choose him over me?” he glowered, his eyes narrowing. He clenched his jaw tightly, the muscles in his face twitching with barely contained fury. "The same way you took his side and attacked me as well?"

Your jaw dropped. You were flabbergasted, at a complete loss for words at Mingi’s audacity. “Choose him over you? Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself. This isn’t about picking sides. This is about your murder attempt.”

Mingi looked away, unable to meet your gaze. His silence only fueled your frustration and confirmed your suspicions. You could see the gears turning in his head, desperately trying to find a way out, but there was none.

“You’ve always known Ajax was a monster. You knew he’d lose control, and you let it happen, because it'd be easier to put the blame on your unstable dragon than to admit you were deliberately trying to kill Seonghwa.”

In that moment, Mingi understood that he had been caught, and there was no escaping the consequences of his actions. His whispered admission, “They put him down,” was a hollow echo of the remorse he should have felt, a final acknowledgment of the truth he could no longer deny.

Your expression softened for a moment, pitying him. “I know,” you said, your voice laced with cold satisfaction. The words were a bitter acknowledgment of the justice that had been served. Pity the murder weapon had been tossed out, you thought.

Mingi’s shoulders slumped further, his eyes filled with resignation. The realization that he had lost everything—his dragon and his ambitions—was a heavy burden to bear.

“I never wanted it to get this far,” he murmured, but you were already turning away, unwilling to listen to his excuses. “I never wanted this to happen, Y/N. I admit I was wrong and wanted to prove myself, but I let my ego get the best of me–” His voice cracked, desperation seeping into his tone, hoping to grasp at any remaining sympathy you might have for him.

You shook your head. “You made choices that hurt everyone around you, Mingi.” The finality in your voice was like a door slamming shut, leaving no room for return.

Without another glance, you walked away, each step feeling lighter as you left him to grapple with the mess he had created. The weight of unresolved tension lifted from your shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of freedom and closure from your past.

Mingi stood frozen, his world crumbling around him. The realization that he was truly alone, left to face the consequences of his actions, was a heavy blow.

<< vi | viii >>

taglist: @litolmochi @syubseokie @park-simphwa @szakias

#away with the wind #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #ateez #ateez au #dragon rider au #fantasy au #seonghwa x y/n #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x you #seonghwa

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oftenwantedafton · 8 months

Text

A New Afton - Stepfather Steve Raglan/William Afton x Stepdaughter Reader

Chapter 4

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - sexual content, daddy kink, praise kink

Also available on AO3

taglist @yellowbunnydreams

William turns the shower on, letting the water warm up for a bit before he steps inside. You follow and he draws your body underneath the hot spray. He feels your eyes tracing the springlock scars on his naked body, a kind of wonder in them. He takes his time lathering you up, smoothing suds all over you, moving more gently when he reaches the place between your thighs that his fingers and his mouth have claimed as his own.

He enjoys the feel of you tucked back against him, the way the curves of your bodies fit together, the way the flatter stretches slot neatly, the perfect balance between the diffences in your heights. He likes drinking the water that pulses on the space between your neck and shoulder. You taste fresh and clean and new.

Back outside the shower and he towels you dry and combs through your hair. Pampering you. Helping you ease into clean pajamas. Your brush your teeth and he watches you in the mirror.

“Want to sleep with me tonight, baby girl?”

You spit your used toothpaste in the sink and cup your hands beneath the faucet, rinsing until there is nothing left but the taste and scent of spearmint when he steals another kiss.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Afton folds his arms across his chest. “And I mean actually sleep. No more missing school. Okay?”

“Yes, Daddy.” So obedient. So easy to manipulate.

You really are an angel.

***

Steve strips the bed. You think it’s more for your sake than anything else. So you don’t think so much about who else normally shares this bed with him.

Now the lights are off and there is crisp cotton beneath you. Untainted. Only your bodies have christened this new space. The dryer sheet’s soft lavender fragrance reawakens when you move. You’re restless. You can’t get settled.

“Baby girl.” Your stepdad’s arm wraps around you and drags you against him. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m trying, honestly. Will you talk to me for a little bit?”

“About what?” His fingers comb through your damp tresses and it soothes you instantly.

“How you got your scars.”

“You’re fascinated by them, aren’t you?” he murmurs beside your ear.

“Yes.” You know now exactly how far they extend after seeing Steve’s naked body in the shower. They cover his entire body from neck to ankles. You can’t make any sense of the patterns. You can’t fathom what would ever mark someone that way.

“It happened at the restaurant. Some of the animatronics are designed so a person can operate them from the inside. That means the internal components need to be separate from the individual. There are a lot of things inside an animatronic; a lot of mechanical and electronic components. The devices that keep them safe are called springlocks. As with anything, there are risks. There was a malfunction. The scars are the result of that failure.”

“Did it hurt? That’s a dumb question. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Yes, it hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else to say.

“Sweet girl, it’s not your fault.”

You don’t like the thought of your stepfather being hurt. You stroke the hand that’s hugging you and realize he’s not wearing his wedding band.

“You’re not wearing your ring.”

“I don’t wear jewelry in the shower. Forgot to put it back on.”

You try to think if he’s had it on at all the last couple of days since your mother left for her trip. His hands all over you and no, there had never been a flash of gold even once.

“You haven’t been wearing it at all,” you persist.

“Would you rather I did?”

“No.”

The silence lengthens. “Do you like being with me?”

“Yes,” you answer truthfully. “I like being with you. I like you.”

A soft satisfied huff of breath. “Okay, Princess. I want you to close your eyes and go to sleep, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You feel his lips press into your hair and you close your eyes.

***

You awaken to find your arm draped across Steve’s chest, your head tucked into his shoulder.

The room is still dark. Daybreak hasn’t yet arrived.

You listen to the rhythm of his breathing. A slow in and out. Still asleep.

You slowly move your arm, pushing the top sheet and comforter down as you go. Let your hand rest along his sternum. Fingers drifting down. Now on his abdomen. Easing a little lower. Elastic of the waistband beneath you. Your breath is held, listening to his. It’s changed. He’s awake. You gather your courage and stroke down and feel his cock stirring in response, pressing against the fabric, against your questing digits.

“Princess.”

You freeze.

“What are you doing to me?” He doesn’t sound upset. He’s just…you don’t know. Observing. Curious.

“I want to make you feel good.”

“Hmmm,” he murmurs drowsily. “You want to wrap those little hands around Daddy’s big cock?”

Immediate throbbing in your pussy. “Yes…”

“Well take it out then, baby girl.”

You prop yourself up and fumble with the fly of his pants and his boxer briefs, trying to extricate him. His cock slaps against your palm, the flesh searing hot. You wrap your left hand around it and stroke up and down uncertainly. There’s just so much of it. Thick and long and…it’s intimidating. You don’t know how it’s ever going to fit inside of you.

“Is it…I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit quietly.

“Spend more time underneath. Roll your fingers over the head. Looser circle towards the bottom then tighter at the top. Here.” His hand covers yours, a shade less heated than the cock in your hand. He’s always so warm. He guides your movements. You feel stiff and awkward and try to force your hand to relax, to become limp and malleable. There’s moisture leaking from the tip and it glides over the ridged space where the curves meet underneath and Steve inhales sharply. “There you go, baby girl. You’re getting it.”

You feel the pulse in your sex. It’s so erotic touching your stepfather like this. You like pleasing him. You wish the room wasn’t quite so dark so you could see his cock better; watch the expressions on his features as you make him feel good.

“You should swap hands and lie back so I can touch you, too.”

His arm pillows your head as you comply, your right hand now on his cock. He shoves a hand inside your pajamas and panties and slides through the dewy slick between your lips. “So wet already, sweet girl. You like touching Daddy’s cock that much?”

“I love it.” You do. You absolutely love stroking your stepfather’s leaking cock. You love his fingers sliding through your pussy. You love every dirty thing you’ve done with him.

“Love, hmmm? You really love it?” His breath pants hotly against your hair.

“Yes, Daddy.” His fingers rub over your clit and you arch your hips, sending them back towards your entrance. “Inside me, Daddy, please.” It’s still sore and tender there but the ache of desire is so, so much more prevalent.

“You want me to fuck you with my finger?”

“Yes,” you gasp. You’re starting to find it difficult to focus on what your hand is doing, your attention shifting to his instead.

“You’re so tight, baby girl.” Pressure as his middle finger struggles to fit inside your canal. “How am I going to fit this big, fat cock inside there?”

You moan and writhe against him. It feels good today. Better than it had last night. You’re already getting used to it.

“Please, Daddy…”

He shifts, his upper body now angled above yours, still partly cradled beneath your head, his finger pistoning in and out. “You want it? Tell me.”

“Please…I want you to fuck me with your cock.”

“And then what? What if I came inside that sweet cunt of yours? Just filled your belly up. Bred my little girl. Would you like that, baby?”

You both know you’re on the pill. You don’t want to get pregnant and yet…the thought of it. The sound of it spilling from his lips…

“Yes, Daddy. I want your cum inside me.”

His panting mouth hovers near yours. You know you’ve gotten lazy with your strokes but it’s getting more and more difficult to focus when he’s talking such filth to you. Your pussy is soaked. Every time his hand shoves against you, there’s a sloppy, squelching, suctioning noise. Your pelvis grinds against him. You want him deeper; you want more. The familiar knotted feeling inside of you grows. His intruding finger crooks when it enters.

“Daddy…Daddy…Daddy…” Over and over and over. Your hand is sloppy loose over his cock as the knot inside you unwinds, spiraling free. His mouth finds yours, heavy and wet and gasping.

The arm supporting your head slides free as he moves over you, one knee and forearm bracing his weight just above you, the mattress creaking. He takes your hand and brings it back to his cock and you both stroke him together, fast and rough and tight.

He nips at your neck and your jaw and sucks your bottom lip. “You’re so good. So perfect for me.” You lift your head to capture his lips. “You’re going to make me cum all over you.” He moans against your throat and you feel the hot spray of semen splatter across your abdomen and chest.

A little thrill of triumph runs through you. You’ve done it. You’ve made your stepfather blow his load. Why was it so satisfying? You can’t help but grin.

You can see his features now, the room becoming gray as dawn approaches.

He studies you with those dark eyes of desire.

***

William sinks into the living room couch and sighs, loosening the knot of his tie and tugging it free. It had been a day. Exhausting. Amazing how many needy, incompetent people there are out there. Amazing how he has charmed and lied his way through that entire career, earning awards for things like Best Regional Social Worker 1998. If they only knew the truth. If they only knew what kind of counsel he kept after hours.

You appear from the kitchen and climb into his lap and he hums appreciatively. Suddenly things don’t seem quite as bleak. “How was your day, baby girl?”

“It was good. I got an A on my Biology project.” You pull off his glasses and tuck them into his shirt pocket. “How was yours?”

His hands cup your ass cheeks and stroke along your thighs. You’re still wearing your school uniform. “Hmmm…tu parles français, n’est çe pas? Comme ci, comme ça.”

“Oui. Je parle français un petit peu.” You grin at him.

“Très bien, ma petite fille.” He grins back at you.

“I’ve been taking it since junior high. I didn’t know you spoke French.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he murmurs, a small secret smile curving his mouth.

“Like what?” Your fingers are laced on the back of his neck. You’re bolder today, he thinks. More confident after making him spill his seed all over you that morning. His cock twitches at the memory.

“What do you want to do tonight?” William smoothly evades your query by asking one of his own. “Besides that,” he says, seeing the hunger in your gaze. Intimacy is inevitable. Your further corruption awaits. But he’s going to edge for a little longer. “We should go out somewhere.”

“What about the restaurant? Is it close by?”

“The restaurant. Now that’s a brilliant idea. It’s on the other side of town. Twenty five minute drive probably. You wanna go?”

You nod.

“Okay. Let’s go to Freddy’s. Just give me a few minutes to shower and get changed.”

You slide off William’s lap with a sigh, and he heads into the bathroom. He hasn’t been back to his pizzeria for several weeks. A visit was long overdue.

Standing under the stream of water he feels some of the tension from the day leave his shoulders and spine. He imagines walking beside his stepdaughter in the darkened ruins of his business, the dust motes dancing on the slants of fading afternoon light that spill in through the windows.

He thinks of the yellow rabbit costume and his cock lurches again. Your legs clenching a stuffed animal between them. The larger version fucking into you, your legs wrapped around the fur and metal as he pounds into you. His fingers stroke over the head of his dick and he hisses in pleasure, the sound lost in the pulsing pressure of the shower water. Yes, you were going to meet the rabbit one day.

He’s suddenly impatient to be back to you, shutting the faucet off and toweling off quickly. He’s just finished tugging on jeans and a navy plaid button front shirt when you push the cracked door open the rest of the way.

“I’m almost ready.” He slides his wristwatch back into place, the stretchy band closing over the joint. A gift from you for Christmas last year. In truth probably picked out and paid for by his wife, but he’s ignoring that fact, just like he’s ignoring the wedding band that sits on a tray on the counter. “We’ll have to pick something up to eat on the way since there’s nothing in the kitchen at Freddy’s. Have a picnic maybe. I promise I’ll do better for dinner tomorrow. I’ll go shopping. Or we can go together. Okay?”

“It sounds fun.” You rest your back against the doorframe, looking up at him through your lashes. “Can we have steak?”

“We certainly can.” One hand sits on your waist. Your blouse is untucked.

“And baked potatoes?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He leans and kisses your neck and feels you shiver.

“And a salad.”

“Sure.” Another kiss. “And I’ll pick up some wine, too.”

“Are you going to get me drunk and have your way with me?” You bite your bottom lip.

“I don’t need to get you drunk for that.” He tugs on your ear lobe with his teeth, biting lightly.

“Are you sure you want to go out?”

He laughs softly, the hand at your waist stroking down to your hip. What a little vixen you were becoming, and it was only day three.

You drop to your knees, your hands trailing over William’s body as you descend. You look up and he looks down. You kiss the seam of his fly. His erection hasn’t gone unnoticed. Your breath is hot against him through the denim material. His fingers weave and knot gently in your hair.

The telephone rings.

William’s hand stills and drops. He feels you tense against him before rocking back to sit on your heels.

“It’s probably mom,” you say softly.

“It probably is,” your stepfather agrees.

“You’re not going to answer it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m busy,” he snaps impatiently.

You rise. The phone eventually goes silent, the mood clearly shifted.

“Do you even like my mom?” Your voice sounds so small in the sudden stillness.

He lifts your chin and stares into your eyes. “I like you. That’s what matters, right?”

You swallow loudly. “Yes, Daddy.”

“That my good girl. Let’s go, Princess.”

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #fnaf fanfic #william afton #steve raglan #fnaf movie #dividers credit @saradika-graphics

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