#how strange would it be to Know so many things without having experienced them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkmatilda · 5 months ago

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𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you thought that after a certain misunderstanding, your relationship had taken on a purely platonic and friendly form but then the investigation sent you to the freezing wilderness of alaska, where every night you find warmth in his bed.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x fem!bau reader, the same reader as in my story "the bolter" but it's not necessary to read it before! there are no major references, but people who have read it might treat this as a continuation (if they want to). in this story, we still have our wonderful queen elle greenaway, gideon and morgan, and many of my attempts (not always successful) at being funny. mostly smut with A LOT of plot, description of the case, oral (f receiving) and some much actions but described in a subtle way. a little bit of angst, but I wouldn't be myself if I didn't add some. again, GLASSES REID!!

𝐚/𝐧: first fic at the beginning of the month, i really wanted to post it today. i think it's time to start posting christmas-themed works? would you be interested? by the way, i hope december will treat you kind <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 11k

“I’m freezing, God, I’m freezing.”

“Me too, look how I’m shaking, I swear, one more hour and my feet will fall off, and then my toes…”

“Guys, for god’s sake!” Morgan finally spoke up, his voice tinged with impatience. The hood of his waterproof, windproof jacket covered almost half of his face, and even so, he was clearly the lightest dressed of all of them. “We’ve landed.” He pulled off a glove to check his watch. “Just under fifteen minutes ago. You still don’t know shit about freezing, so stop complaining like a bunch of old women in a knitting cycle…”

“I’d love to be an old lady in a knitting circle right now,” you sighed, your breath immediately turning to steam. You exchanged a look with Reid, who was freezing just as much as you were, and together, you had been driving Derek crazy with your whining. You all had similar gear, thermal layers, and jackets designed for extreme conditions, but it still wasn’t enough. “Sitting by the fireplace, knitting a sweater. Gossiping with other retirees.”

“Exchanging gingerbread recipes,” Spencer suggested, his tone just as wistful.

“And sharing tips for dealing with worms in our cats’ anuses,” you added.

“I’m done," Derek muttered.

Your work often sent you to various corners of the United States, but it rarely involved Alaska. Well, due to the state’s relatively low population density compared to others, fewer crimes were committed there, especially at the federal level.

However, in recent weeks, strange disappearances had occurred—teenagers and young men. Their bodies were found in remote areas, deep in the forest or in completely uninhabited wilderness, places so isolated that even an experienced survivalist would struggle to find their way out.

The local police, as local police often do in most criminal cases, initially pretended there wasn’t a problem, insisting the victims had died as a result of tragic accidents, simply getting lost during a hike. But when the number of deaths began to rise, and the victims included even high school students—locals who were well aware of the dangers of wandering alone after dark in such perilous areas—the case landed on JJ’s desk.

And so, you found yourselves in the brutally frigid surroundings of Fairbanks, heading toward the inn where you were supposed to drop off your things and immediately dive into the investigation.

"The temperature this week is going to range from 15 to 5 degrees Fahrenheit," Spencer informed you over his shoulder as he opened the car trunk to retrieve the luggage. "Of course, that's during the day. At night, it’ll drop as low as -4 degrees."

Elle shivered as he handed her her bag.

"I was doing just fine without those numbers," she said, nudging you lightly with her shoulder—a touch you barely felt through the thick layers of clothing. "What do you say we make up for this with a New Year’s trip? Mallorca? The Himalayas?"

"I’m dreaming of the Caribbean," Morgan chimed in. "Beaches, sunshine, and cocktails—that’s what I’ll be dreaming of tonight."

"And half-naked sunbathers," you added.

"And half-naked sunbathers," he agreed with a grin.

Elle trudged ahead, sinking into the snow up to her calves. The inn was a sizable wooden building, adorned with balconies and terraces that, given the weather, likely went unused, though they added considerable charm. It was tucked away in a secluded spot, offering privacy and a peaceful atmosphere—ideal for work.

You lingered by the car, waiting for Reid to grab his things, unwilling to leave him behind.

“Do you know much about the northern lights, Rudolph?” you teased, nodding toward his red-tipped nose. “I’ve always dreamed of seeing them.”

“Well, then you’re in luck,” he replied, looking at you with a slight smile. “We’re in one of the best places to see them, during the season with the longest nights. They’ll be visible pretty early, though the most stunning views will probably happen between ten at night and two in the morning. I’ve always wanted to see them in person too.”

"So, what do you think?" you asked, raising your eyebrows. "Midnight, at my door, and we’ll go play aurora hunters?"

You shivered just at the thought. Of course, you were joking—there was no way you'd even stick a single hand out from under the covers at this hour with those freezing nighttime temperatures. You planned to admire the beautiful phenomenon from your room window. Warm, you hoped.

"Alright. Just make sure you bundle up,"

"Sure. Thermal thong and all that."

Your room was on the same floor as Elle's and JJ's, and you were glad to have them just behind the next door. Unpacking took you only a minute, and within that time, you were all together, sitting as a team, going through the case files.

“These boys were so young,” JJ remarked, shaking her head with a hint of dread. “Sixteen, the youngest, twenty-four, the oldest. They were found in such remote locations that if it hadn’t been for the ongoing professional search and the dogs, who knows how long it would have taken before anyone stumbled upon their bodies.”

“Given the heavy snowfall, they might not have been found until the thaw. What do their parents and families say about all of this?” Hotch asked.

“Unanimously, they believe their kids would never have ventured that far on their own. This is where the mystery starts, though, because there were no wounds on their bodies, except for the ones they inflicted on themselves in their attempts to survive in the cold.”

“So, it looks like someone kidnapped them, drove them out to a place you’d never get out of without serious survival skills, and just left them to die?” Derek asked, baffled.

“Seems that way. Yesterday, an eighteen-year-old named David Moore was reported missing. Normally, it probably would have been classified as a delayed return home or maybe a runaway, and the police wouldn’t have even taken the report. But given the current circumstances and the rising panic among the locals, his parents decided not to wait. A wise decision.”

"How many hours has it been since he went missing?" you asked, running your own grim calculations in your head. "Around eight, right? Is it even possible for him to survive the night out there in these conditions?"

"That depends on what he was wearing and the specific location where he was left," Reid explained, thoughtfully cleaning the lenses of his glasses. You realized it had been a while since you’d seen him wearing them—he used to wear them daily, but lately, it was only on occasion. For a moment, you found yourself staring at his face, liking how the dark frames suited it.

"His parents believe he was likely abducted on his way home from tutoring," Elle noted, flipping through the case file. "People around here dress warmly as a habit, but even so, I doubt his everyday clothes would be particularly suited to weather like this. At night. In the middle of the woods."

An uncomfortable silence followed her words, broken only by Hotch clearing his throat.

"Anyway, we need to join the ongoing search efforts. We’ll be more useful out in the field than trying to build a profile with the scraps of information we have. I’m not sure if I need to remind you, but out of habit, I will: be cautious and don’t, under any circumstances, stray from the search group. They know this area."

Before you all moved out to get to work, Reid shot you a fleeting glance. Like a dad, you mouthed silently, and he let out the faintest chuckle. You both enjoyed spotting those unmistakably parental tendencies in your boss, though they were directed at you and the rest of the team.

Hours of searching had, unfortunately, yielded no results—the crushing pressure of time bore down on you all. The knowledge that each passing moment was stripping this boy of his chances for survival felt almost unbearable. If he had somehow managed to survive the first eight hours in the forest, sixteen seemed an increasingly unlikely feat.

And yet, hope lingered. The group, driven by his distraught family, refused to stop, likely continuing to scour the area despite warnings. Meanwhile, you stood in your hotel room, so close to the window that the cold glass brushed against your nose.

Your thoughts were consumed by the case and the fate of the teenager. Just as Reid had said, the sky was illuminated by that breathtaking greenish glow. Watching it felt almost surreal, and you wanted to take in as much of it as your eyes could hold.

If it weren’t for the fact that you had frozen to your very core during the search, you might have stepped outside to see it more clearly.

Just as the thought crossed your mind, there was a knock at your door.

You furrowed your brow, not expecting anyone. When you opened it, you came face to face with none other than Spencer. Well, it was hard to tell it was him at first. He was bundled up so tightly in layers of warm clothes that his body lost its natural shape and resembled more of a puffy ball than a person.

"Hey," he greeted awkwardly, raising his hand hesitantly and scanning your appearance from head to toe. "You're not ready yet. Sorry, I think I came too early. I thought we were meeting at midnight..."

"We were meeting?"

"For the northern lights hunt, you forgot? I checked the Kp index, it's a measure of aurora activity that determines its intensity, and it turns out tonight is really favorable... wait, why are you laughing?"

His furrowed brows and face, barely visible in the dimly lit hallway but clearly confused, only made you laugh harder. Shaking your head in disbelief, you covered your smile with your hand.

"Spencer, I was joking," you said, suddenly feeling guilty that your sarcasm had led him to spend time and effort preparing for a night out. "There’s no way I'm going out in this cold. I’d rather dive headfirst into boiling water, at least that would be warmer."

“Oh,” he let out a short, disappointed sigh. He quickly nodded, as if trying to accept the situation, and forced a more neutral expression. “I—I really thought you were serious. Sorry for... for waking you up, then.”

For a moment, you stood in silence, your hand resting on the doorframe. An odd, unexpected thought sprinted through your mind. It had been such a long time since the two of you had been together like this, late at night, in the same room...

“Well, in that case,” he cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry again. Let’s just pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Forget I came here and embarrassed myself. That’s all. Sorry. I should probably go if I want to avoid being completely sleep-deprived tomorrow...”

“Go where?” you interrupted, suddenly standing straighter, alarmed.

“Aurora hunting.”

“By yourself? Spencer, have you lost your mind?”

He opened and closed his mouth, caught off guard by your outburst.

“Well, I don’t know when I’ll ever get another chance like this, being in the Arctic Circle...”

“It’s pitch dark and freezing cold. You don’t know the area—”

“...I’ve had a chance to look around, and I’m not going far. There’s a small hill just behind the inn—”

“...And there’s a freaking serial killer on the loose around here, did you forget?”

“Well, I have a gun.”

“Well, I’m not letting you go,” you cut him off firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. Spencer tilted his head, clearly ready to argue further, but before he could speak, you added, “Give me five minutes.”

“What?”

“Five minutes to get dressed. I’m coming with you.”

At first, you could have sworn a faint smile flickered across his lips. But then, just as quickly, he shook his head vehemently.

“No, really, you don’t have to. Not just because of me. I’ll be fine…”

"Five minutes," you repeated once more, slightly flustered and trying not to dwell on the fact that the moment you stepped outside, you’d likely regret this decision. “Wait here. Or come inside—I don’t want to shut the door in your face.” As you spoke, you opened the door wider, inviting him in.

Without wasting another second, you headed straight for your suitcase. Okay, how many layers does one need for a night outside in Alaska?

“I actually bought a set of thermal underwear specifically for this case,” you said, pulling out the essentials from your bag. Most of what you’d worn during the day would work fine, but you debated adding an extra sweater and another pair of socks. “And, oh my God, I hate it. I’d rather wear lace thongs 24/7 than spend more than eight hours in this bugger.”

You glanced subtly over your shoulder, curious to see his reaction and waiting for his reply. It wasn’t like you wanted to embarrass him, but you absolutely adored how, in response to even your most suggestive remarks, he could always respond with complete seriousness—like he was dissecting some profound issue. Judging by the furrow of his brow, this time would be no different.

“Really? You know, thermal underwear is generally associated with comfort. The fabric is typically elastic, soft, and breathable. High-quality models are even seamless, so they don’t cause any chafing. Maybe you bought a poorly fitted one?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, I have no expertise in this area. It digs in so much, though, and I have to keep myself from adjusting it. Can you imagine me sticking my hand in my pants right in front of the missing boy’s family?”

He hesitated before responding.

“Not really. But I can picture Hotch’s face.”

“And I can picture a termination notice on my desk the next day,” you quipped.

You grabbed all the clothes you had gathered and disappeared into the bathroom to layer them on. It wasn’t a quick job—by the end, you felt like your movements were completely restricted by the weight of it all—but at least you were prepared. When the first merciless blast of Alaskan air brushed against the tiny exposed part of your face, it didn’t immediately make you want to run back inside screaming.

Instead, you sighed in awe.

"I know I’ve invoked God's name a hundred times already, but God, this is beautiful," you said, feeling your own words too inadequate to describe the miracle above your heads. The streaks of light stretching across the sky, an intense green with a certain transparency, a glassy quality, the stars peeking through it all.

Spencer turned to you over his shoulder. He was only a couple of steps ahead, but he kept doing it as if afraid that in a moment of not seeing you, you'd fall into the snow and disappear forever.

“Wait until we get to the spot,” he said, his smile clearly excited. In his dark eyes, the light seemed to reflect and stay there, even when he blinked, as though he had already absorbed it all deep inside. “It’s only ten minutes away, but it makes a difference.”

"I hope you're not one of those people who says, 'Oh, it's just around the corner, we don't need a cab!' and then leads you to walk halfway across the city" you scoffed. You tried to keep your gaze fixed on his back, his lantern swinging in his hand. Alaska, the vast empty terrain, the thick layers of snow, seemed to hide some sort of mystery beneath them, and it filled you with a fair amount of fear. "Will you shield me with your chest if a bear jumps out at us?"

"Actually, yes, I would," he replied. "But not because of heroism, it's more because I have bear spray in my pocket, and by that very fact, it's probably my duty."

"Okay, let’s make a deal: you protect us from a potential bear attack, and I’ll take care of Bigfoot. By the way, that legend never really scared me. A monkey with gigantic feet just sounds too ridiculous to me. Remember that episode of History's Mysteries that we watched at your place?"

You both shared a love for a certain TV show about conspiracy theories and famous mysteries from around the world.

"Of course. You know part of it was filmed right here in Fairbanks? Bigfoot never really fascinated me either, but I liked that at the end of the episode they also mentioned other Alaskan legends. Like The Kushtaka, for example."

"I don't remember that. But I'm not sure I want you to tell me," you confessed, taking a breath, the cold biting into your lungs. Despite the layers of clothing, it was getting colder and colder, but at least you'd finally reached the spot Spencer had chosen. He was right; the vast plain on the small hill was perfect for watching the aurora. You had the feeling that the sky was only an inch above your head, and a childlike urge to reach up and touch it. "Alright, you've got me too intrigued. Go ahead."

You noticed that, unlike you, Spencer wasn't tilting his head back to gaze at the sky. He was looking at you.

"The Kushtaka is a creature from the folklore of the surrounding tribes. It is most often described as a hybrid of a human and an otter..."

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

"Otters, seriously? Is that supposed to chill me to the bone?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow in a somewhat sarcastic manner.

"Okay, let me tell you the story differently," he proposed in a similar tone, swallowing as if to prepare himself for the tension-building drop in his voice. "Just like now, we're heading out to see the northern lights. Just the two of us, surrounded by nothing but darkness. The sky is overcast that day, and there’s hardly any light to see." At that moment, he switched off the flashlight he was holding, and his previously well-lit face faded into obscurity. You crossed your arms over your chest, silently promising yourself you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being scared.

“In this story, do my thermal undies also ride up so uncomfortably?”

“Your underwear isn’t a significant part of this tale. Anyway… crap, where was I?”

“The thought of my underwear distracted you?”

You heard him sigh, almost in exasperation, and a sly smile spread across your face.

“Let me continue. No more comments about underwear.”

“My underwear or in general?”

“SO WE’RE HEADING TO SEE THE NORTHERN LIGHTS. It’s dark, it’s creepy, and you’ve got chills running down your spine. Then suddenly, you realize you’ve lost me.”

“Phew,” you exhaled with theatrical relief. “Finally got rid of that creep who kept obsessing over my underwear.”

"You know what, I’m done. I’m done. I won’t tell you the story about the human-otter hybrid."

“I’m devastated by this fact!” you assured him in the same overly dramatic tone. Taking it a step further, you jumped toward him, desperately grabbing the fabric of his jacket. “Dr. Reid, please, I beg you, tell me about the human-otter hybrid. I need this. I’ll sell my soul and body, just please…”

Spencer threw his head back, laughing, and as you tried to calm yourself down, you leaned against him. Taken by surprise, he lost his balance, sending both of you toppling into the snow.

“Damn, we’re going to be wet!” he groaned, trying to get up from the deep snowdrift you both had fallen into. It wasn’t the easiest task with all the layers of clothing and a girl who was dying of laughter on top of him.

“I think that’s enough of our aurora watching,” you said once you both finally managed to get back on your feet. Despite the ski pants and very, very warm clothes, you were starting to feel frozen. “And enough of your legends. It’s late, and we should head back.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he complained, sounding like a little puppy that had been scolded for peeing on the carpet.

“You can tell me on the way,” you replied. “Come on.”

You sent one last glance toward the sky before moving forward, your mind focused entirely on the vision of a hot, soothing bath and a blanket with an extra layer for warmth. For the rest of the walk, Spencer didn’t try to use his low voice or mysterious narrative tone. He finished the story in his usual manner, sounding more like a fascinated lecturer. You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed—he had sounded really sexy earlier, you had to admit.

When you both got back to the guesthouse, you glanced at the stairs leading up to your room and shook your head in refusal.

“If I don’t get under at least five blankets right this second, I’m going to die, so sorry my dear, but I’m coming to you and I won’t leave until I’m warm, or I’ll never leave at all,” you said quickly and firmly.

Spencer raised an eyebrow but replied just as energetically.

“I don’t think I have five blankets in my room.”

“Three will be fine.”

And that's exactly how it went. First, you took off your jackets, and then, in your typical everyday clothes, you quickly jumped into bed, covered with the duvet up to your neck, waiting for the pleasant warmth to spread across your bodies.

“Was seeing the aurora worth all that suffering?' you asked, turning onto your side in bed so you could face him.

'Well, it wouldn't have been suffering if someone hadn't shoved both of us into the snow...'

He said this while lying on his back, but shortly after these words, he followed your lead and also turned onto his side. Your breath became shallower. It had been almost a year since you last had him this close, almost a year since you slept together, and then decided to let the situation fade into oblivion.

Honestly, you almost succeeded. After all, that incident was like every other encounter you had with guys. Spontaneous, one-time, followed by bolting. But you didn’t see those other guys afterward. Every day at work, forced to watch him wipe his glasses, his damn glasses, with the same fingers he…

“Are you thinking about something specific?” he suddenly asked, his voice eerily similar to the one he used to tell you the story on the hill, a voice you found so sexy.

That was the kind of man Spencer Reid was. Always wanting to know what was going on inside your head.

You sighed, probably too loudly.

"You don't want to know what I'm thinking right now,"

You felt a little pathetic, realizing that your whole excuse about not being able to go to your room was just a pretext to end up in his bed. Once again. This whole trip to Alaska must have really messed with your head. Or maybe it cleared the fog in your mind and left a single thought, naked and defenseless. You wanted him.

"I know how pathetic that sounds, but I always want to know what you're thinking," he replied after a moment, swallowing audibly. You heard it clearly, you were so close. So close...

You had to make a quick decision: whether to continue and face the consequences the next day, or, perhaps worse, to be rejected? It was possible that he had learned from your last time together, and didn’t want to get involved with you that way.

"I can show you what I'm thinking," you finally proposed, not blinking for a long moment, just carefully studying the features of his face, any signs of uncertainty or tension.

Because there was that one small seed of probability that he wanted you too.

His lips parted, but were immediately covered by your kiss.

Slow and curious. How did he taste after all this time?

Maybe it was a thought whispered by the moment, but you had the feeling that even better.

You didn’t play the role of a taster for too long. Soon, still not pulling his lips away from yours, you lifted yourself into a sitting position, propping yourself up with your elbow on the bed, pressing closer to him with every passing moment, more intensely and hungrily.

Something seemed to haunt you, preventing you from moving any further. Something in his posture—lying on his back, surrendered to your control, yet somehow absent.

You pulled away from his lips, your gazes meeting. There was a certain weakness and sadness in his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" you managed to ask, your voice strangely trembling.

Spencer suddenly sat up, straightening himself, though there was still a slight bend in his shoulders. His movement forced you to pull away from his chest.

"I can't do this," he confessed quietly, taking a deep breath. "I can't sleep with you." In a way, it hurt more than if he had simply refused to let you kiss him. Your forehead furrowed in disappointment and... shock?

"Why?" you asked directly, foregoing any excuses about not aiming for that. Because you had been.

He let out a laugh, filled with pity.

"Because after this, I won’t be able to stop thinking about you. And you, after tonight, won’t want me anymore."

You were breathing heavily, completely unsure of what to say. His words were painfully eye-opening, first and foremost. And secondly... true. Because did you plan, like a normal person, to wake up next to him, greet him, date him? That wasn’t how you operated. In your plans, there was always just one option—escape. Exactly like that time.

You slowly began to slide off the bed, his hand moved to reach for yours, and you hoped he would take it, but at the last moment, he hesitated. He hesitated.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," you reassured him, yet you didn’t look at him the whole time. You sounded stiff, almost reproachful, even though you were the one who should be reproached. You were the problem.

You looked around the floor, used to picking up your clothes from it, but this time there was nothing. Except for the jacket hung up and the ski pants you’d pulled on over your regular ones to avoid freezing in the cold night. Leaving without a word seemed excessive.

Your back rested against the door as you turned to look at him. Your quick-thinking mind raced, searching for something to say to at least salvage some dignity in this situation…

“Let’s pretend this didn’t happen,” you finally suggested.

Spencer was still sitting on the edge of the bed, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to get up or stay there. Eventually, it seemed like he stayed, though you weren’t sure, having already turned toward the door, your hand pressing on the doorknob.

“T-think that’s the best solution,” he admitted, just as one of your feet stepped into the hallway.

Then, you heard someone whistling.

You immediately stepped back into his room, keeping your face turned toward the door.

“Damn, it’s Morgan,” you said, recognizing the person in the hallway by the sound alone. “We better not let him see me leave, or he’ll never leave us alone…”

You expected that when you turned around, you’d find him still sitting on the bed. After all, you hadn’t heard him get up, hadn’t heard him approach. You certainly didn’t expect that, when you turned, his lips would almost immediately attack yours.

It was so unexpected, so sudden, that the back of your head slammed against the door.

“Fuck, sorry…”

But you didn’t think for a second about the pain, nor did you focus on why Spencer had suddenly changed his mind. Your attention was solely on the two of you, two desperate pairs of lips pressing together and pulling apart, never staying away for long.

He pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around your waist. Unlike the last time, it was your back that hit the mattress first. The cool surface, the heated bodies, and the weight of the layers of clothing between you both.

"You've changed," you noticed.

A different dynamic. The pace was set by him—just moments ago, you were standing by the door, and now, half of your clothes were gone, while the soft skin of your neck was buried under a cascade of messy, impatient kisses.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his face hovering above yours, one hand resting on the bed next to it.

"I haven't gotten enough to say for sure," you replied, teasingly. "But I get the feeling you're more confident now. A lot of practice since last time?"

He shrugged.

"I don't think it's about practice," he said, his hand sliding down your side until it stopped at the waistband of your pants, lingering there but not moving any lower. You reached for his hand, brushing against it before trailing your fingers along its length up to his forearm, feeling one of his veins beneath your fingertips. "I guess... I was just scared you'd leave, and I had to stop you somehow. That’s why I rushed," he admitted.

His gaze lingered mostly on your face, but it wandered across your body, his frustration clear as he eyed the layers of clothing still in his way. Something about his desperation and impatience stirred something playful in you, and you couldn’t resist teasing him.

Propping yourself up on one elbow, you tilted your chin to look at him.

“If I tried to leave right now, how would you stop me?”

The corner of his mouth twitched at your question, but he decided to play along, nodding thoughtfully.

“I think I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Care to show me?” you asked, your voice dripping with challenge.

For a moment, he didn’t move at all, just kept staring at you, until he allowed himself that first, utterly shameless drop of his gaze and a soft sigh. His lips began their journey, starting at their usual, safe spot on your neck, trailing toward your shoulder, and crossing over your collarbone with deliberate intent. You were still half-sitting, struggling to steady your breathing so your chest wouldn’t rise and fall too much or too quickly, trying not to disrupt him. The first hint of uncertainty appeared between your breasts when his kisses momentarily softened, carefully exploring unfamiliar territory and testing your sensitivity.

You struggled more and more to keep yourself from collapsing fully onto the mattress. But when his cool tongue met your skin, pressing against it so firmly that his forehead brushed against your stomach, relentlessly moving lower, you couldn’t hold out any longer.

He was between your knees, bent in anticipation. He reached them, sliding his hands down your thighs and coaxing them to relax. He fumbled a bit while unbuttoning your pants, and had trouble sliding them down while you were lying there. You lifted your hips to help, even tried to do it yourself, but he stopped your hands, placing them above your head.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said softly, finally freeing your legs from both pant legs. His hands wrapped around your ankles, his thumb tracing gentle circles around one of them, which somehow completely seized your attention, and you focused solely on that subtle motion. For a moment, you closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you noticed that his chin was just above your panty line. "Actually, it will be much more pleasant for you if you just focus on feeling and nothing else. I was supposed to show you my ideas, remember?"

“As someone who apologized for being in too much of a hurry, you sure have an unexpectedly large amount of patience now,” you remarked with reproach, lifting your head again. Maybe keeping it down allowed for more comfort and relief for your neck, but on the other hand, the sight of his face immersed between your thighs was simply priceless.

If the sight itself was priceless, how do you describe that feeling?

With every move of his tongue, your hips swayed, adjusted to the rhythm. Often tense, trying to find some outlet, especially when sighs escaped his lips and his cool breath penetrated through you.

"Think I'm gonna cume embarrassingly quickly," you confessed, unsure whether he even understood anything from your sentence, which was at least interwoven with two moans. Three.

When it happened, you uncontrollably squeezed his head with your knees, a similar groan also came from his mouth.

Spender didn’t stay in that position for long. When you opened your tightly shut eyelids, his face was right above yours, stretched in such satisfaction, as if he was the one receiving pleasure.

"Was it too quick for you?" he asked, still absorbing you with the same gaze, which seemed to pulse with desire. "If you want, we can try again, you’ll surely improve..."

"My God, when did you become so cocky?"

He chuckled, but instead of answering, he once again pressed himself against your body and skin, closing his eyes in devotion and lingering on each spot for as long as it took, as if he could never be satisfied, no matter how much he took in.

Your hands, instead of tormenting the innocent fabric of the blanket, moved to his back, tightly embracing his neck and basically everything they could latch onto. All of his earlier composure seemed to evaporate; you didn’t even have to ask twice to make him slide in. It actually sounded more like an order than a request, a bit desperate, it's true, but still an order.

"How is it even possible that it feels even better than the last time?” His words, his lips, ticked your neck as he moaned out this question. "Just... I feel like I won’t have enough of you tonight."

"The night is long," you said, almost into the air, not really paying attention to the meaning behind it. "Tomorrow night too."

Spencer stopped, completely. His eyes desperately searched for yours, and when he finally found them, they widened in disbelief.

"Tomorrow night too?" he repeated. "But I thought... I thought you didn't want anything more than a one-night fling…”

"It's already our second," you reminded him. "And I'll be completely honest with you, I don’t want to walk around all day tomorrow sexually frustrated just at the sight of you. Let's make a deal, okay?"

"A deal?"

"Yeah. I'll tell you about it in a moment, but right now...Oh God, I think I’m gonna…”

You both got dressed right after, but not because either of you intended to leave. The temperature inside simply didn’t allow for sleeping naked, no matter how warm you were after sex.

"So?" he asked, handing you the piece of paper you had sent him to the bathroom for. Then he sat on the bed, facing you. "What did you mean by this deal?"

"Well, after thinking about it, I'm not sure if it's a good idea after all..."

"I want to know, even if just out of curiosity."

"You want to know everything, Spence. But fine. I thought maybe... while we're in Alaska, we could just, you know, allow ourselves to do whatever we want. In more direct terms, fuck each other as much as we want.”

It sounded a bit...crazy? Spencer kept his gaze suspended in the air for a moment before turning it back to you, questioning.

"But only as long as we're in Alaska?"

"Exactly. Since there's only one floor between us, why not take advantage of it?" you tried to joke, lightening the mood.

It didn’t seem to have much effect on him.

"But what happens next? When we get back?"

"Do we really have to think about that?" you wondered, moving closer to him, to the body that just moments ago made you feel so good. "We'll get used to being apart, just like before."

"Okay," he sucked in a breath, clearly torn over the proposal. "I mean, no, I didn’t mean okay... because it doesn’t seem like a great idea, but on the other hand... on the other hand, I really, really want you, even if it only means for this short time."

You smiled, though deep down, somewhere very deep, there was something somber in that gesture.

Ignoring that, you kissed him to seal the deal. And not just that.

"That was for good night and goodbye."

"Goodbye? You're leaving?" A clear look of disappointment crossed his face, but he quickly shook his head, trying to get rid of it. "Good night, then."

"It's not that I don't want to stay. It's just that it would be better to be well-rested for work, and I don't think we'd sleep properly if I decided to spend the night here. “

You saw him open his mouth, ready to protest, but you had already gotten up from the bed and started gathering your remaining things.

"Wait," he called as you were about to leave. "You said... you said something that's been bothering me, you know? I can even quote it, so listen up. You said that you don't want to walk around all day tomorrow sexually frustrated just at the sight of me."

You couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter.

"And that bothers you?"

"I don’t understand what you meant by that. What in my behavior makes you feel that way?"

"A lot of things."

"Like what?"

"I'll tell you someday. Maybe it's better if you're not aware of it."

"Hey, now I won’t be able to sleep!"

"Anyway, good night, sweet boy."

Almost the first thing in the morning, you found yourselves at the local police station, full of disappointment and anxiety. You had to inform the parents of the missing boy found in the forest that he had been located. But unfortunately, it was not good news.

The first hours of the day passed in constant analysis and discussion, until finally, around noon, you gathered in front of the town's police officers, ready to deliver the profile. You didn’t have much time for any reflection on the previous night, or even for a conversation with Spencer. A sober one this time, when you weren’t intoxicated by desire and each other.

You stood in the corner of the room, listening to Hotch and Gideon.

"The UNSUB is a white male, likely with military experience or, at the very least, extensive survival skills, estimated to be around 50-60 years old. He abducts teenagers, boys, and young men who look younger than their actual age, which suggests he doesn’t know his victims very well."

"If he observes them, it’s for a short period. He doesn’t have time to get to know them but understands their routine and daily schedule well enough to know when to strike."

"He doesn’t drug his victims, which means he is physically capable of abducting them without assistance. This ties into the type of victims he selects. All these boys were more the intellectual type than athletes. When abducted, they were coming from school, tutoring sessions, or the library. David Moore, for instance, was tall but lanky. His family described him as gentle, with a big heart and a passion for learning."

"The UNSUB abandons them in remote forest locations. Forcing them to fight for survival gives him a sense of control and serves as a way to prove his belief that modern society and boys today are incapable of handling adversity. He openly despises them, viewing them as weak and effeminate. His mindset reflects a toxic approach to gender roles and what he considers the traditional male archetype."

“White men aged 50-60 with survival skills make up about half the population here,” a policeman noted. “Take me, for example…”

Hotch began providing more detailed information, while Gideon stepped out of the center of the room, and the atmosphere became more relaxed.

You approached Reid, who was sitting in a chair, and ruffled his hair with your hand.

“Watch your back, genius-boy,” you warned, standing behind him. From his seat, he tilted his head all the way back to look up at you. A smile instantly appeared on his face.

“You might just be next. And we wouldn’t want that.”

“So, you think I’m effeminate?”

"I know very well that you're not. But you do have that intellectual spark in your eyes. And, you know, those glasses don’t help."

Ever since you’d been in Alaska, he’d worn them less often because, as he’d told you while chatting in bed, they kept fogging up. But now, they were perched on his nose, making him look... delectable. Simply delectable.

The rest of your team approached, Elle's gaze lingering on your hand resting on the back of Reid's chair. As usual, she had to notice everything.

"I need to send you all to a few places to check out some individuals the police have identified as matching the profile," Hotch announced. "Y/N and Elle, I’d like you to speak again with the bus driver who drove David Moore just before he was abducted. Once he understands the profile, he might be able to recall more details."

You lingered in the room, wanting to exchange a word with Spencer. In complete privacy... He was slowly wiping his glasses, as if hoping for the same. Watching the movements of his hands, you shook your head.

"This is it—what you asked me about yesterday. What makes me sexually frustrated. Our agreement still stands, right?" you asked, running your hand along his shoulder, just to touch him. Even though the many layers of clothing made it almost impossible to really feel him.

He looked at the glasses he was cleaning, then at you, disbelief written all over his face.

"That's what you meant? Cleaning glasses?"

"Don't judge me. It's about the motion. Or maybe the glasses themselves, I don't know. Maybe I’m a fetishist. Anyway, are you going to answer my question?"

Still seated in the chair, he had to tilt his head back to look at you, which reminded you—just a little, okay, a lot—of another situation where he was down below.

"What about you?" he countered. "You haven’t changed your mind?"

"Absolutely not."

"In that case, yes. It still stands."

“Oh, I don’t know what I’d do if you’d answered differently. See you tonight, then,” you promised, glancing around the room to make sure none of your team members were still there. Just a few local officers... who weren’t paying much attention to you. Even if they were, it wasn’t their business.

You leaned in quickly to kiss him. He closed his eyes, as if hoping for more.

“Not now, and not here. I need to go find Elle. Hotch gave us an assignment. Have a good one.”

You walked away, feeling his gaze on your back.

You found your friend in the car, one of those suited for tough terrain, with high tires. She was sitting behind the wheel, tapping her nails on it.

"So, what was the address of that driver?" you asked, fastening your seatbelt.

"Forgive my bluntness, darling, but I’ll die if I don’t know. What was that all about?"

"What do you mean, ‘What was that all about’?"

"Oh, come on, you know exactly what I mean. Messing with his hair, the chair, the looks. Are you two sleeping together again?"

You technically had no reason to hide anything from her, after all, you trusted her completely and had never hesitated to talk about your sex life. But this time... you kind of liked the idea of keeping whatever happened between you and Spencer just between the two of you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. We're just acting like we usually do," you said.

"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow, slowly pulling away from the police station, her gaze shifting between the road and you. "Then what were those sounds last night from his room?"

"Oh shit, did we make noise?"

She smiled triumphantly.

"I don't know, you tell me. I'm just teasing you. I'm on a completely different floor. But I'll take that as an admission of guilt."

"Manipulative bitch!"

"I'll take that as a compliment. So?"

You rolled your eyes with a heavy sigh, but eventually, you confirmed her suspicion with a nod.

"I thought you didn't sleep with the same guy twice."

"The air in Alaska really does something strange to me."

"Sure. The air," she scoffed, and you furrowed your brows in slight confusion, looking at her, waiting for her to elaborate. The car glided along one of those completely empty, snow-covered roads where there was nothing to focus on. "You know, I wonder why you just don't admit that you like him?"

"I don't hide the fact that I like him."

"Then why not give it a try?"

"Try what, Elle?"

She glanced at you sideways, her lips tightening at your obviously irritated tone. She didn't mean to upset you, of course, but that's how you felt. She sighed, as if thinking about how to approach the subject.

"You've learned to live with it," she finally began, slowly and cautiously weighing her words. "With that fear. Of intimacy and commitment."

"It's just a preference."

"No, it's not a preference. It's fear. You're afraid that if you get emotionally close to someone, you'll be abandoned, and you don't want to risk another painful loss. You want to have full control over the relationship and disappear when you feel like it's fading. Usually in the morning. It's a common mechanism, and it's not just about you. And no mechanism can be broken without making an attempt."

"Elle, stop. You're profiling me, and you know how much I hate that."

And actually, you hated being confronted with the truth about yourself and being internally forced to draw conclusions about yourself.

It was easy, living without reflecting on oneself. Especially when those reflections were painful. You could hurt yourself, unsuccessfully trying to confront them, or flow along with their current, completely subordinated to them and deaf to the words of others, who said you were only hurting yourself in the bigger picture.

Elle dropped the subject, as you had arrived at the house of the man you were supposed to interview. She didn’t bring it up again afterward. The hours at work passed, and you only waited for that specific moment when you'd cross the threshold of that room again.

The previous night danced vividly in your mind, never slowing down or taking a break for a moment. As soon as he opened the door, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his face, and unbuckling his belt.

Spencer took a sharp breath, shocked and amused, as soon as you touched him.

"It would be incredibly awkward if someone were at my place right now," he chuckled into your mouth, half of his sentence drowned out by your kiss.

You pulled your face away just slightly, raising your eyebrows. It was only then that you noticed he was wearing glasses. Oh, he was so completely unaware of what you were about to do to him...

"How many people do you bring to yourself every night?" you asked.

"In that regard, only you. Besides, this is only the second time, so I wouldn’t call it every night... but I could always be here with someone, talking..."

"Keeping each other warm," you added.

Your hands slid under the fabric of his clothes, brushing the lower part of his stomach.

He noticeably tensed under your fingers, swallowing slowly, impatient and pleading.

"Engaging in a worldview discussion and exchanging conclusions," he finished, a smile playing on his lips.

"Uh-huh. Exactly like we are now. Honestly, does that turn you on? Do you want me to share my political views while you’re eating me out?”

"This is probably the only scenario in which you could make me not feel pleasure because of it."

His hands hesitated, roaming uncertainly across your body, unsure of where to start. They brushed over so many spots, moving from one to the next, chaotic and desperate.

You didn’t know where to focus – on the lips in the hollow of your neck, on the hand on your hips, or the other, slipping lower and lower?

Or perhaps on that sound, right by your ear, sweet, pleading whimper?

Moan left your body just for that reason and you already knew how you wanted the rest of the night to unfold.

You gently pushed him back, and with quickened breath, you dropped to one knee, then the other.

"After yesterday, I couldn't stop thinking about you," you confessed, making sure your lips were close enough to his body as you spoke. You heard him inhale sharply, whispering something under his breath. "I couldn't focus on work at all. So today, I want to take care of you, completely."

You thought he would be satisfied with the offer; well, it was hard to deny that he was. Still, for some reason, he started shaking his head.

"N-no, that's not... I want to do it. Take care of you, I mean."

You couldn’t stop smiling, but at the same time, you weren’t about to back down, which should probably be enough to describe the dynamics of the following hours.

At times, it was brutally slow, while at other moments, it was hurried and impressive. Sometimes, you interrupted each other constantly, unable to stop talking, and at other times, the only sound filling the room was your two breaths, the only constant, restless, and laced with moans and cries.

"You’re not leaving me tonight, right?" he asked, drawing closer to your body and holding you almost pleadingly. You laughed against his skin, shaking your head in denial.

"At some point, I will have to. For about fifteen minutes, before everyone wakes up."

"You’ll say you just came by for something. To ask a question or something," he tried to convince you.

"Oh, at this early hour, looking like I’ve just done a two-hour workout? Derek would eat us alive. His eyebrow would never drop again. If I ever end up in hell, it will be with him there, looking at me like that." You tried to mimic his expression, tensing your jaw as you did.

"Stop, I feel harassed."

"You see? And if he found out about us, this is how the next... God, I can’t even predict when he’d get tired of it. Maybe in a year. Do you want to suffer for another whole year just to be with me for an extra fifteen minutes?"

"I’d be able to survive that," he declared quietly, placing his hand under your head and playing with your hair with one of his fingers. "But if you don’t want it, I’m not going to waste time and try to convince you."

"Sure," you scoffed playfully. "So many things could be done in that time."

"Like what?" he asked, clearly intrigued. "Try to sleep. What were you hoping for?"

"Nothing, nothing. But you used a plural in that sentence and then only gave one thing. So, I’m waiting for the rest."

"That’s an overinterpretation."

"More like a simple analysis of sentence structure."

"Maybe sometimes it's better to analyze a little less. Spencer."

"I don’t think I’m capable of that," he admitted, his tone a little more serious. You furrowed your brow, looking at his pale face in the weak light, showing signs of the night’s exhaustion. "That’s just how my brain works. It doesn’t give me much time to rest."

You often wondered what the world looked like from his perspective. How, in many ways, his genius was both a revelation and a curse. But you’d never heard him complain about it—until now. In fact, it wasn’t even a complaint, just a statement of fact, somewhat melancholy.

You kissed the top of his head, hoping it would have a soothing effect.

And indeed, it worked. He moved even closer to you, rested his head, and after a moment, almost at the same time, your eyelids fell.

The morning passed slowly and longingly, even though you were still so close to each other. However, there was the awareness that with the arrival of the day, you would have to wait many, many hours before you saw each other again. In a similar way, you meant. After all, at work, you constantly spent time together, which only made everything more difficult. It would have been much easier to push him out of your head and focus, if it weren’t for that.

Meanwhile, Spencer, perhaps trying to gently play on your nerves, cleaned his glasses much more often than necessary. But there was also the possibility that he was doing it the same amount as usual, and you were just imagining it.

"Are you doing that again?" Morgan nodded in his direction as a greeting when you were sitting in the guesthouse room that served as your team's meeting place. There was a long table in there, similar to the one in your office, but much narrower. Sitting across from Reid, you could easily touch his hand. If you wanted to. "Is this some new nervous tic of yours? Polishing them?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Spencer furrowed his brow in mock surprise, stopping the corner of his mouth from twitching. You kicked him under the table, and he couldn’t suppress a gasp.

To hide your amusement, you covered your face with your hand, but Morgan immediately picked up on it.

"Is this some new inside joke of yours?"

"He’s literally just polishing his glasses, leave him alone," you said.

Morgan’s eyebrows raised in the same way you had imitated him the night before. Neither of you could hold it in and burst into laughter.

"What’s going on?" JJ asked, walking into the room.

"Something very strange is going on," Derek announced mysteriously, staring at you both intently. His hands were resting on his hips, and his head tilted in thought. "Something very strange..."

Then Hotch arrived, even more serious than usual, which immediately dispelled the good mood. The rest of the team also arrived—Elle and Gideon—and everyone took their seats at the table.

"In the past few hours, there hasn’t been any concerning missing person reports," Hotch informed you. "On one hand, that’s good; on the other, it means the unsub will strike again soon. And we can’t let that happen."

"And you even have a plan," Gideon stated, with some sort of understanding in his eyes.

Hotch looked at you all with hesitation before nodding in confirmation.

"That's right, I have. I've concluded that we have no choice but to set a trap."

At those words, his gaze rested on Spencer, which was enough for you to figure it all out even before the main subject did.

"With all due respect, Hotch, have you lost your mind?!"

And how exactly do you envision this?" Elle asked, not as shaken as you but clearly concerned. "Sure, he fits the profile of his victims, but how is he supposed to set himself up? Walk around town and hope to get kidnapped?"

"At least two of the victims were abducted on the same stretch of road, after getting off the bus at the same isolated bus stop while walking home alone. It’s an exceptionally safe location for him," your boss explained.

"Honestly, I’m not convinced," Derek interjected, staring ahead with a furrowed brow. "I just don’t think he’d use the exact same spot again. Word has probably spread around the area that the FBI is on the case. He might be more cautious and change his methods."

"But he might just as well try again," JJ said quietly. You looked at her with clear surprise, as you had expected that, with her characteristic care for the team, she would be against the idea. "Right now, it’s the only thing we can do to try to prevent another abduction."

You drew a breath, understanding her arguments but remaining entirely opposed. Your gaze finally fell on Spencer, for the first time since the idea had even been brought up. He was sitting very upright, his brow furrowed, and he slowly began nodding.

"JJ’s right, it’s the only thing we can do," he said. He wasn’t looking at Hotch, nor even at the team as a whole—he was looking at you, directly and only at you. A calming, slightly nervous smile crossed his face, making you scoff. "Nothing’s going to happen to me. You’ll all be around, on the bus, near the stop."

With his words, the decision was made, and all you could do was shake your head in disbelief.

"I want to be on the same bus," you declared desperately, crossing your arms over your chest. You simply couldn’t reconcile with the fact that Spencer was willingly putting himself in harm's way—especially when the unsub's desire was to hurt people like him. "I’ll pose as a civilian. A random young woman. I shouldn’t seem like a threat, and someone from our team has to be inside."

"You’re right," Hotch replied, looking at you with sharp attention. "But it will be Elle."

You and your friend exchanged a confused look, startled by the firmness in his voice.

"I don’t think it makes much of a difference," she tried to intervene, which made you feel grateful.

Although, it didn’t change anything…

"I’m not obligated to explain myself to you about this decision, especially in front of the entire team. This is an order," Hotch announced with almost brutal professionalism. "The only thing I can say is that we need someone who won’t break character until the very end. Someone who won’t let emotions cloud their judgment."

"Are you sure you’re up for this?" Gideon asked, directing the question at Spencer. His tone was understanding, prepared to accept any refusal without judgment.

This time, he didn’t look at you. As Spencer nodded in confirmation, he actually avoided your gaze.

"Then we have the whole day to prepare for the sting. Let’s hope this leads to catching the unsub," Hotch concluded the meeting, signaling that you could leave the table.

You were torn between staying and screaming at your boss or leaving the room after Reid. Well, the second option wouldn’t get you fired. And, honestly, it seemed like the better choice. It turned out he wanted to talk to you too, as he was clearly waiting for you in the narrow hallway of the inn, where animal antlers hung on the walls and an informational board about moose was displayed.

"Are you angry because I want to do this?" he asked, the narrow walls around you making you stand quite close. Well, not as close as you could be, but close enough to add gravity to the conversation and allow you to study his face carefully.

Especially his determination. The determination for this job, for solving the case, and for preventing others from suffering the same tragic fate at the hands of this killer. Finally, you understood that your reaction was a bit irrational. Because if the victims were young women with your looks... you’d agree to it without hesitation. Some hypocrisy, huh?

"No. I'm just terrified that you're going to do this," you confessed, your honesty and concern making his face twitch in surprise. You snorted, trying to ease the tension. "I’m angry at Hotch for calling me emotionally unstable in front of all of you."

Spencer smiled gently, though there was stress hiding behind it. He may have been determined to go through with it, but that didn’t change the fact that there was fear accompanying him. He tried not to show it, but anyone in his position would feel it.

"Well, in his defense, he phrased it a bit more subtly."

You let out a soft laugh, stretching your arm out to gently touch his forearm. As your hand slid up, you leaned in a little, the simple gesture helping you feel more grounded and at ease.

His gaze followed your movements with a gentle satisfaction. You didn’t pull him closer, you were simply stroking his arm in that easy, caring way that calmed both of you.

"You’ve never done this before, have you?" you asked quietly. "You’ve never put yourself in this position like this."

He shook his head in denial.

"I’m really... really worried that I’ll do something wrong and we won’t be able to catch him because of me."

"You should worry about yourself, Spencer. Not about that. I’m sure you’ll play your part better than anyone could. "But I really regret that I won’t be able to be right next to you, in case something goes wrong."

His lips parted and closed in a kind of... amusement?

"I was going to say that maybe Hotch could be convinced, but then I realized, no, he won’t be. No matter what you say. And besides, having you there wouldn’t let me focus fully."

"I’m aware of that," you joked, tossing your hair dramatically. "After all, I look stunning."

"I was more referring to the fact that I’d be focused only on making sure nothing happens to you, but yeah. That’s one of the reasons too."

You fell silent, oddly moved by that confession. It was so simple, driven by care, affectionate. And it definitely made your head spin in the context of your relationship. You shook your head, pulling yourself away from those thoughts. As long as you were in Alaska, you could afford anything. After that, who knows.

You swallowed and put on a playful expression, it came with some effort, but you managed.

"Okay, genius-boy. Let me prepare you. You need to know how to behave."

"I thought I was just supposed to be myself," he noted, letting you pull him by the wrist.

"Well, mostly, yes. But it's still better to rehearse, get you into character. Don't you have any random fun facts to share?"

"I always have some fun facts to share. An endless amount."

"We'll see."

For the rest of the day, up until the inevitable moment of setting the trap for the unsub, you listened carefully to everything he had to say. His constant chatter allowed him to occupy his mind, pushing the stress aside to the point that, when it was time for him to head to the designated location, he seemed almost surprised that the hour had come. Only then did certain shadows begin to cross his face.

You paced restlessly around the inn as the whole team prepared. Your task was to take a position with Gideon at a certain distance from the bus stop, to cut off the unsub's escape route if necessary. The bus driver had agreed to cooperate, and JJ was giving him instructions, asking him to act as naturally as possible. There were to be no civilians on board, only Elle and a few inconspicuous local police officers. Hotch and JJ planned to follow the bus from a distance by car. Morgan was to lay low at the bus stop, also posing as a civilian.

You moved closer to Spencer, breathing heavily, his presence alone calming you down.

“You’ll be fine,” you reassured him just before you were about to leave. Morgan gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and everyone was still gathered around you. You gently hugged him, just as any other friend would, just like Elle and JJ had moments before.

He, on the other hand, wasn’t concerned with appearances. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rested his chin on top of your head in a strong, lingering embrace.

“Y/N, you and Gideon need to go now," Hotch interrupted.

As you were walking away, you noticed out of the corner of your eye that he also gave Reid a brief squeeze on the shoulder.

It was a truly tense moment. You found yourself in a position where you had no visibility on what was happening inside the bus, nor could you gauge the gravity of the situation. All you could hear through the earpiece was Elle's whispered signal informing you that the suspect, fitting the profile, had just entered the vehicle.

And even though you didn’t have high hopes for the plan, everything unfolded exactly as it was meant to. Spencer exited the bus, and the unsub followed him. The suspect seemed intent on tracking him down that desolate, shadowy road, planning to attack and abduct him. But at the last moment, Reid turned, and before the man could react, he was surrounded by the police.

On your last night in Alaska, you found yourself on top, with his head resting against the headboard of the bed, his hands placed on your hips, and in a position where you could look at each other and talk.

"You really did great today," you praised, leaning in to gently kiss his collarbone.

He didn't seem flattered by your words, no smile on his lips, just that sad, aching expression that caused you pain. Wanting to shake off the feeling, you quickened your movements, hoping it would work, but then he tightened his embrace, making you slow down once again.

"I want... I want to enjoy you," he said with a slightly embarrassed tone, his fingers tracing restless, tender circles on your bare skin. "Since this is our last time together."

For a moment, he gazed at your face, as if hoping you would say something. But he couldn't find any trace in your expression that would suggest you had changed your mind. The small, naive spark in his eyes faded. Elle's words about breaking the cycle echoed in your mind, but not in your heart. You couldn't turn them into reality; you simply couldn't. The agreement remained the agreement.

Once you returned, everything would go back to how it was before.

another author's note: I plan to create a tag list and I want to know who among you would like to be on it. please, let me know in the comments.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spence reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal mind #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

1K notes · View notes

areislol · 2 months ago

Text

being transported into their world 3

►— pairings. honkai star rail men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. nothing really, proofread, romantic but you can see it was platonic if you want to! sahau (selfawarehonkaiau)

►— synopsis. their beloved creator, the one who created many worlds, including theirs, had yet to return after thousands of years. but lately, they’ve been experiencing strange things, feeling like a heavenly, divine figure loomed over them. could it possibly be their one and only creator?

►— a/n. i have returned!

►— wordcount. 8.5k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpart 2

As the grand airships soared through the boundless expanse of the Astral Sea, anticipation and reverence filled the hearts of those aboard. The people of Penacony and the Xianzhou Luofu had poured their devotion into every offering, ensuring that when they stood before their Creator, they would be worthy of Their gaze.

Among the passengers, figures of great renown—leaders, warriors, scholars, and artists—whispered among themselves. Some exchanged theories, others clung to their hopes, but all shared the same longing: to be in the presence of the one who had shaped their existence.

The Vidyadhara of the Xianzhou spoke of celestial ripples, unseen but deeply felt. The Dreamweavers of Penacony murmured about visions more vivid than any illusion—glimpses of a figure bathed in ethereal light, watching over them. It was as if their Creator had never truly left but had merely observed from beyond the veil of reality.

And then, the first sign appeared.

A shimmer in the fabric of space, a fleeting disturbance in the gentle hum of the Astral Sea. The air itself seemed to vibrate with an unfamiliar presence, neither hostile nor kind—simply vast, unfathomable, divine.

Aboard one of the lead airships, a courier from the Xianzhou clutched their chest, eyes widening as a foreign yet familiar warmth settled deep within their soul.

“They are near,” the courier whispered, breath hitching. “The Creator… is watching.”

Gasps and murmurs spread like wildfire. The High Elders of the Luofu exchanged knowing glances, and the Dream Alchemists of Penacony trembled, their own visions now aligning into a singular truth.

Some fell to their knees in silent prayer. Others clutched their offerings closer, as if desperate to prove their devotion.

And then—

A voice.

Distant yet clear, carried by the unseen currents of the universe itself.

A voice that resonated not in their ears but in the depths of their souls.

“You have come far.”

For the first time in millennia, their Creator had spoken.

And the universe itself seemed to hold its breath.

—

The moment your feet touched the ground of the Xianzhou Luofu, the world around you erupted into chaos.

One second, you were merely stepping off the grand airship that had carried you through the Astral Sea, and the next, you were utterly surrounded—crowded by eager citizens, high-ranking officials, and even a few Vidyadhara elders who had abandoned their usual serene composure in favor of absolute devotion.

“Creator! Oh, most divine one! Please, accept this humble offering—”

“These are the finest silks woven by the most skilled artisans of the Luofu! Only the best for Your Holiness!”

“My family has worshiped You for generations, O Creator! Please, take this—no, no, take all of it—”

Hands thrust forward gifts of all kinds: shimmering jade ornaments, scrolls filled with poetry written in your honor, delicately embroidered robes infused with strands of blessed gold, and even towering platters of delicacies so elaborately prepared that you had no idea how one was supposed to eat them without ruining the artistry.

The crowd pressed in, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of praise and desperate pleas. Some people knelt in open worship, while others trembled on the verge of tears, overcome by the mere sight of you. You barely had time to react as more and more hands stretched out, some daring to reach for you—only to quickly withdraw as if touching you would be a sin beyond redemption.

You felt the weight of it all crashing down at once. Their overwhelming adoration, the suffocating attention, the sheer amount of stuff being shoved into your hands—your arms were already full, and yet gifts kept piling up, stacked precariously as people kept insisting, “Please, You must accept this!”

Your mind reeled. How were you supposed to carry all this?

Just as you were about to be buried alive under the sheer number of offerings, a smooth, amused voice cut through the chaos.

“Now, now, everyone, let’s give our dear Creator some space to breathe, shall we?”

A familiar figure approached with a casual, almost lazy gait, his golden eyes glinting with mirth despite the serene smile on his face.

Jing Yuan.

Finally.

The tension in your shoulders immediately lessened at the sight of the Arbiter-General, who effortlessly slipped through the throng of devotees, his mere presence enough to make people step back—reluctantly, of course. His relaxed demeanor only added to the contrast between the fervent crowd and the calm authority he exuded.

In one smooth motion, Jing Yuan plucked several stacked gift boxes from your arms and, with the ease of someone entirely too used to handling excessive burdens, passed them off to a group of hesitant Cloud Knights standing nearby.

“Ah, such generosity from the people of the Luofu,” he mused, resting a hand on his chin. “Truly, your devotion to the Creator is admirable. However, burying them under a mountain of offerings seems a bit… excessive, wouldn’t you agree?”

A few people had the decency to look sheepish, but others still gazed at you with unwavering reverence, eyes shining with the desperate need for approval.

Jing Yuan tilted his head slightly and sighed. “If you all truly wish to show your love and respect, perhaps you should allow the Creator to rest after such a long journey. Don’t you think they deserve at least that much?”

There was a moment of silence—hesitation, perhaps—but then the crowd finally, finally, began to disperse, albeit begrudgingly. The most devoted still lingered at a distance, hands clutched to their chests as they whispered prayers under their breath.

Jing Yuan turned to you then, his smile softening as he regarded your exhausted form. “That was quite the welcome, wasn’t it?”

You let out a breath you didn’t even realise you’d been holding. “I was two seconds away from getting buried alive.”

Jing Yuan chuckled, a rich, warm sound that was oddly comforting. “I noticed. Hence my timely rescue.”

He extended an arm toward you, a silent offer of escape from the still-hovering masses. You didn’t hesitate to step closer, and with that, he effortlessly guided you through the streets, keeping the lingering devotees at a polite yet firm distance.

As you walked, he leaned in slightly and murmured, “I must admit, I almost didn’t intervene. The sight of you balancing all those offerings was rather amusing.”

You shot him a glare, though it lacked any real heat. “I will actually smite you.”

Jing Yuan only grinned. “Oh? That would be quite the divine punishment.”

Despite his teasing, you could feel the protective undertone in his presence. He never once let anyone get too close, subtly positioning himself between you and the most overzealous worshippers. His touch, though light, was grounding—a reminder that you weren’t alone in handling this overwhelming situation.

Somehow, you had no idea how, you were totally not freaking out. I mean seriously, you, the supposed "Creator" of this world was being escorted by the one and only Jing Yuan.

You always found him handsome, gushing over him every time you saw him ingame and in the oh so beautiful edits. Now that you're thinking about it you lowkey miss scrolling through edits...

Finally, after weaving through the grand avenues of the Luofu, Jing Yuan led you to a quiet garden, a place of respite where the gentle murmur of a koi pond replaced the incessant praises and frantic devotion.

You sighed, shoulders sagging as you flopped onto a stone bench. “Thank you. Seriously.”

Jing Yuan sat beside you, stretching lazily. “Think nothing of it, Creator. It is, after all, my duty to ensure your safety.” His golden eyes twinkled with a teasing light. “Even if that means saving you from an avalanche of gifts.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “This is only the first region. How am I supposed to survive the rest of this journey?”

Jing Yuan hummed thoughtfully before leaning back with a smirk. “Well, if you ever feel like you’re drowning in worship, you could always hide behind me.”

You looked at him, deadpan. “So I should use you as a human shield?”

“A most noble purpose,” he said solemnly. “I would be honored.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. A genuine, amused laugh that made the weight of everything seem just a little lighter.

And for now, that was enough.

That evening Jing Yuan made it his speciality (well, there was no other perfect for this role) to help you around and set you up in the finest hotel they have, though he was contemplating whether or not to let you stay in his home.

Oh well, another time.

After a much-needed moment of peace in the secluded garden, Jing Yuan finally stood, stretching with a satisfied sigh.

"As much as I enjoy our quiet escape, we can't keep the officials waiting forever. Besides, there's still one more matter to attend to before you settle in."

You gave him a wary look. "Please tell me it doesn't involve more people throwing things at me."

Jing Yuan chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "No, no, nothing of the sort. This is merely a... welcome gift, of sorts. One befitting your divine status."

With a flick of his wrist, he signaled a Cloud Knight nearby, who quickly bowed and stepped forward, handing him an ornate jade key embossed with golden inlays. Jing Yuan twirled it between his fingers before offering it to you.

"The finest lodging in all of the Luofu awaits you, Creator. We've taken the liberty of preparing the most luxurious accommodations—handcrafted furniture, celestial silk bedding, a private garden, and, of course, an entire team of attendants at your beck and call."

You blinked. "You got me a palace?"

Jing Yuan hummed. "Did you want a palace? I can certainly..."

"No! It's alright!"

Your escort back into the main district of the Luofu was far more controlled this time, thanks to the Arbiter-General’s presence. Though citizens still peered at you with awe, none dared to swarm you again under his watchful eye.

Eventually, you arrived before an exquisite structure that towered above the rest of the district. It was more than just a hotel—it was a masterpiece.

The building gleamed under the warm glow of Xianzhou lanterns, its architecture a perfect blend of ancient artistry and modern refinement. The entrance alone was grander than any palace you had seen, with enormous wooden doors adorned with gold filigree and jade carvings of divine creatures bowing in reverence.

A faint, pleasant floral aroma wafted from within, and even from the threshold, you could tell that the entire establishment exuded luxury.

A team of elegantly dressed attendants stood in perfect formation, their heads bowed respectfully as they awaited your arrival.

The head steward, an elderly but refined man with a neatly tied beard, stepped forward, his expression filled with practiced grace.

"O Most Revered Creator, it is our greatest honor to welcome You to the Celestial Pavilion, the pinnacle of hospitality in the Xianzhou Luofu. Every suite, every meal, every service within these walls has been prepared with Your divine comfort in mind."

The doors swung open, revealing an interior that was almost too stunning to believe.

The floor was made of polished white jade, reflecting the warm glow of floating lanterns that hovered like soft stars above. An artificial river ran through the grand lobby, its waters imbued with luminescent koi fish that swam in mesmerizing patterns. Exquisite tapestries depicting celestial beings hung from the walls, woven with real gold and silver threads.

Jing Yuan leaned down slightly, whispering near your ear, "Too much?"

You turned to him with an incredulous look. "Jing Yuan. This is not a hotel. This is an imperial palace in disguise."

He laughed, clearly entertained by your reaction. "Well, nothing but the best for our dear Creator. Besides, would you really prefer a lesser place after all the trouble of traveling here?"

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I just feel like this is… way too much."

Jing Yuan smirked. "You underestimate how deeply the people of the Luofu revere you. To them, even this is barely enough."

Before you could protest further, the head steward gestured towards an awaiting elevator, its interior lined with intricate carvings of constellations.

"Please, allow us to guide You to Your private suite. The entire top floor has been reserved solely for You, ensuring the utmost privacy and security."

Jing Yuan made a teasing gesture towards the elevator. "Shall we, O Divine One?"

You shot him a look but stepped inside regardless, allowing the attendants to lead the way.

When the elevator doors slid open, you were greeted with a sight that made your previous awe seem insignificant.

The suite was enormous—practically a mansion in itself. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking panoramic view of the Luofu, where floating islands drifted lazily against a sea of stars. The decor was luxurious yet tasteful, blending rich Xianzhou aesthetics with divine motifs. Silken drapes billowed gently from the breeze of an open balcony, where a koi pond glowed softly in the moonlight.

The centerpiece of the room, however, was the massive bed—practically a throne of luxury. The sheets were woven from celestial silk, rumored to be softer than clouds, and the pillows looked as though they could swallow you whole.

You turned to Jing Yuan, your voice deadpan. "Did you guys handpick the softest, most luxurious materials in the entire universe for this?"

He hummed. "More or less. The mattress is filled with the down of a rare celestial bird said to bring pleasant dreams. The silk was harvested from dreamweaving moths, whose threads are softer than air itself."

You stared at the impossibly extravagant bed, then back at him. "This bed alone is worth more than my entire existence, isn’t it?"

Jing Yuan grinned, tilting his head. "Perhaps. But as the Creator, what is wealth to You?"

You groaned, flopping onto the bed despite your previous complaints. The moment your body sank into the heavenly softness, a deep sigh escaped your lips. "...Okay, fine. This is actually incredible."

Jing Yuan’s chuckle was smooth, triumphant. "I thought you’d come around."

Just then, an attendant entered with a respectful bow. "Creator, your evening meal has been prepared. Would you like it served in the dining hall, or shall we bring it to you here?"

Her voice trembled ever so slightly, and you noticed.

You were about to answer when Jing Yuan sat down beside you with an easygoing smile. "I can join you, if you’d like. Of course, I’d understand if you prefer to dine alone after such a long day."

You hesitated, then gave him a small smirk. "Stay. I think I need someone to keep me from drowning in luxury."

Jing Yuan let out a laugh, leaning back on his hands. "Very well. Consider it my continued duty to ensure you survive this overwhelming hospitality."

As the attendants set up a feast of delicacies, you allowed yourself a rare moment of relaxation. The overwhelming attention, the endless gifts, the suffocating devotion—it was a lot to handle.

But at least, for now, you had Jing Yuan by your side to make it all a little more bearable.

And with Penacony as your next destination, you were going to need all the support you could get.

—

That night, after a long and overwhelming day, you finally let out a deep sigh as you sank into the impossibly soft mattress. The pearly silk sheets draped over your body like the gentlest of clouds, but even with all the luxury surrounding you, something felt… odd.

Not bad, just unreal.

You had spent the entire day being treated like something divine—worshipped, adored, and overwhelmed with endless gifts and reverence. While you knew the people of Xianzhou Luofu meant well, the sheer intensity of their devotion had left your mind reeling.

Sitting up, you pulled at the silky robe you had been given earlier, rubbing the fabric between your fingers. It was exquisite, made from rare materials woven by expert hands, but it wasn’t what you needed right now.

So, with a decisive nod, you slipped out of bed and padded over to the wardrobe. As expected, it was massive—filled with handpicked garments of the finest quality, likely tailored specifically for you. But you ignored the silken robes and intricate gowns, your eyes searching for something softer, fluffier—something that felt normal.

And, to your relief, you found it.

A set of plush, cozy loungewear—still elegant, but far more comfortable than the regal attire you had been given throughout the day. You wasted no time changing into it, sighing in contentment as the soft fabric hugged your skin.

Much better.

Now properly dressed for relaxation, you returned to the bed, slipping beneath the covers once more. The dim golden glow of the lanterns cast warm shadows across the room, the faint sound of running water from the koi pond outside filling the air with a serene ambiance.

You had a couple of weeks here before moving on to Penacony. That thought alone was enough to make you sigh again—two whole weeks of this level of treatment. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful, but it was overwhelming. How were you supposed to act when everyone saw you as something so divine?

Just as you were beginning to spiral into your thoughts again, there was a polite knock at the door.

A soft voice spoke from the other side. “Apologies for disturbing you, O Revered One. General Jing Yuan has sent a message regarding tomorrow.”

Curious, you sat up. “Come in.”

The door slid open, revealing a neatly dressed servant who carried a delicate scroll sealed with golden wax. They bowed deeply before presenting it to you.

You accepted it, offering a small nod of thanks. The servant hesitated, as if debating whether to say something, but ultimately decided against it and left as silently as they had arrived.

Breaking the seal, you unrolled the scroll and began reading.

Dearest Creator, I imagine today has been rather… intense. I would say you’ll grow used to it, but I doubt anyone could adjust so quickly to such unrelenting devotion. Fortunately, I have taken it upon myself to provide a reprieve from the overwhelming fanfare. Tomorrow, allow me the honor of showing you the Xianzhou that few ever see. Beyond the grand halls and bustling markets lie hidden wonders—sacred places, untouched beauty, and sights reserved only for those deemed worthy. I assure you, this will not be an ordinary tour. You deserve to witness the true splendor of the Luofu, not just the grandeur they parade before you. Rest well, and anticipate a journey unlike any other. —Jing Yuan

A small, genuine smile tugged at your lips.

For the first time since arriving, you felt something besides pressure—excitement.

The idea of seeing the true beauty of Xianzhou, beyond the formal ceremonies and excessive tributes, sparked something warm in your chest. Jing Yuan wasn’t treating you like some untouchable deity—he was inviting you to experience something.

And you couldn’t wait.

With that thought, you carefully set the scroll aside and curled deeper into the blankets, a quiet sense of anticipation settling over you.

Tomorrow would be different.

Tomorrow, you wouldn’t just be the Creator.

You would be you.

As the warmth of sleep wrapped around you, your thoughts drifted into a haze of anticipation. The soft embrace of the plush blankets, the faint trickle of water outside, and the distant hum of the city lulled you into a peaceful slumber.

And for the first time since arriving, you truly rested.

But something was… different.

The dream came suddenly—so vivid, so distant, yet unbearably familiar. You were surrounded by muffled voices, warped as though you were underwater, their words blurred beyond recognition. Faint beeping echoed somewhere in the background, rhythmic and steady, like the slow, deliberate ticking of time.

A sharp scent filled the air—antiseptic, sterile.

Hospital.

Your fingers twitched. No silk, no embroidery, no luxurious warmth. Instead, there was something stiff beneath you, something thin and uncomfortable. You tried to move, but your limbs felt heavy, weighed down as if submerged in an invisible force keeping you still.

The voices grew clearer.

"—stable for now."

"Still no response?"

"Nothing. But brain activity is... unusual."

There was a pressure on your chest—something tight, restricting. Panic clawed at your throat, and you tried to force your eyes open, but the dream was cruel, keeping you trapped in its grasp.

A shadow moved beyond the blinding hospital lights. Someone leaned over you, their features blurred beyond recognition, but there was an undeniable concern in their presence.

"Come back to us."

The voice sent a chill down your spine, a foreign familiarity creeping in. Come back? Where? To what?

Your heart pounded. The dream was suffocating, pressing against you with a weight that felt far too real. You weren’t supposed to be here. You were supposed to be in your flagship, on your way to Penacony, celebrated and revered as the Creator.

So why did it feel like something—someone—was pulling you back?

The beeping quickened, an alarmed voice sounded somewhere beyond the veil of unconsciousness, but before you could grasp onto anything, the dream collapsed in on itself.

You shot up in bed, gasping.

The room was dark, the only light coming from the celestial glow of the stars outside the massive windows of your chambers. Your chest heaved as you struggled to regain your breath, hands trembling slightly as they gripped the silk sheets. The sensation of the dream lingered, the sterile scent, the voices, the weight of something unseen—

But it was gone.

You swallowed hard, pressing a hand against your forehead. It was just a dream.

…Right?

—

A gentle knocking stirred you from your dreams.

At first, you barely registered the sound, your mind still caught between the lingering remnants of sleep and the waking world. The knock came again—soft, patient, yet firm enough to rouse you.

You blinked blearily, shifting beneath the covers as the morning light seeped in through the ornate windows, casting golden rays across the room.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

The voice was familiar—smooth, rich with amusement, and unmistakably belonging to Jing Yuan.

That woke you up completely.

Still groggy, you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The memory of last night came rushing back—his letter, the promise of an exclusive tour, the excitement that had lulled you into such a deep sleep.

He’s here already?!

Panicked, you glanced down at yourself, relieved to find you hadn’t tangled yourself in the sheets or drooled all over the pillow like some sleep-deprived mess. Your fluffy loungewear was slightly rumpled, but nothing too embarrassing.

Clearing your throat, you called out, “Come in.”

The door slid open smoothly, revealing Jing Yuan.

He stood at the threshold, hands folded neatly behind his back, his usual composed yet knowing smile resting on his lips. The morning light framed him perfectly, highlighting the silver strands of his long, flowing hair and the sharp yet relaxed features of his face. His robes, though still formal, were noticeably lighter than the ones he wore during official duties.

Even his very presence exuded effortless grace, like he had all the time in the world.

“I see you’ve rested well,” he mused, taking in your cozy state with an amused glint in his golden eyes. “It would be a shame if the Creator themselves were sleep-deprived in my care.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “I did, actually. Thanks for asking.”

He nodded approvingly. “Good. You’ll need all your energy for today.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That makes it sound like you’re planning to make me run a marathon.”

Jing Yuan chuckled. “Nothing so drastic, I promise. But I do intend to take you places that require a bit more… mobility than sitting on a grand throne accepting gifts all day.”

That piqued your interest. “You weren’t joking about showing me the real Xianzhou, huh?”

“I would never joke about such a thing,” he said with a smirk. “I value my life too much to deceive the Creator.”

You snorted at that but were already feeling more awake and eager for the day ahead.

“I’ll get dressed,” you said, swinging your legs over the bed. “Give me a few minutes.”

Jing Yuan inclined his head, stepping back toward the door. “Take your time. I’ll be waiting just outside.”

As the door slid shut behind him, you let out a breath and stood up, stretching as you tried to shake off the remnants of sleep.

Today was going to be different.

And you couldn’t wait.

Once you were dressed and ready, you stepped outside, greeted by the soft morning breeze that carried the delicate scent of blooming flora. The Xianzhou Luofu was already stirring with life—merchants setting up their stalls, artisans practicing their craft, and the faint hum of ships soaring above the bustling city.

And, of course, Jing Yuan was waiting for you.

Leaning casually against one of the elegant wooden pillars just outside your quarters, the general looked completely at ease, as if he had all the time in the world. His golden eyes gleamed with quiet amusement as he watched you approach.

“I was beginning to wonder if the Creator was the type to sleep in,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the light outer robe draped over your shoulders. “I think I deserve some extra rest after yesterday.”

Jing Yuan let out a soft chuckle. “That, I can’t argue with. But I did promise you an unforgettable tour, and I intend to deliver.”

You tilted your head. “So, where are we going first?”

He turned slightly, motioning for you to follow. “Somewhere only a select few have the privilege of visiting.”

Intrigued, you walked beside him as he led you through the city. The streets were lined with towering buildings adorned with intricate carvings, the scent of freshly brewed tea and steamed buns wafting through the air as street vendors called out their morning specials. You could feel the weight of countless eyes on you—some reverent, some awestruck, and some barely able to hold back their excitement.

Word had spread, fast.

Whispers followed in your wake. Citizens knelt as you passed, their expressions a mixture of devotion and disbelief, as if they couldn’t believe they were standing in the presence of their revered Creator.

You felt your steps falter, slightly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of their gazes.

Jing Yuan must have noticed, because without hesitation, he shifted closer to you, his voice low and reassuring. “Ignore the crowd. They mean no harm, but I understand how suffocating such attention can be.”

You exhaled, nodding as you did your best to focus on the path ahead.

Before long, you reached a secluded area near the edge of the city—a vast, hidden garden surrounded by towering cherry blossom trees, their petals fluttering gently in the wind. A sacred place, untouched by the bustling city, where the only sounds were the soft rustling of leaves and the distant chime of wind bells hanging from the eaves of an ancient shrine.

Your breath caught.

The sight before you was breathtaking.

A grand koi pond stretched out before you, its crystal-clear waters reflecting the soft hues of dawn. The koi swam gracefully beneath the surface—some golden, some shimmering like silver, and a few so rare they seemed almost ethereal. Stone pathways curved around the pond, leading to delicate wooden pavilions shaded by vibrant red maples.

Jing Yuan stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back as he observed your reaction. “This place has existed for centuries, long before my time. Few ever set foot here.” He turned to you, a knowing glint in his eyes. “But I thought it was only right for you to see the beauty your world has inspired.”

You swallowed hard, a strange warmth blossoming in your chest.

It wasn’t just the scenery—it was the meaning behind it.

Jing Yuan had personally chosen this place, not as a grand spectacle for the people to see, but as something meant only for you. A place where you weren’t the revered Creator burdened by endless expectations—just you.

Your fingers grazed the petals of a cherry blossom branch as you took a deep breath. “…It’s beautiful.”

Jing Yuan smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stood there, letting the peace of the garden settle around you.

Then, with a small smirk, he added, “Of course, this is only the beginning. There’s much more to see.”

You turned to him, curiosity sparking in your gaze. “Oh? You have more surprises?”

He chuckled, his golden eyes glinting playfully. “Would I really be a good host if I didn’t?”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Alright, General. Impress me.”

Jing Yuan was nothing if not an exceptional guide. From the moment you left the tranquil garden, he took it upon himself to show you everything—from the grandiose to the humble, from the historical to the modern, ensuring you experienced Xianzhou Luofu not as some untouchable deity, but as someone meant to live within it, even if only for a short while.

The two of you strolled through vast, open courtyards where swordsmen trained with unwavering focus, their movements so precise they almost looked choreographed. Some paused mid-strike when they noticed you, their expressions flickering between awe and disbelief before quickly bowing in reverence. Jing Yuan simply chuckled, assuring them they need not falter in their training.

From there, he led you through the bustling markets, where the scent of incense, fresh herbs, and sizzling skewers filled the air. The shopkeepers, upon realizing who had stepped into their midst, nearly fell over themselves to offer their best wares.

Silken fabrics embroidered with golden threads, delicate porcelain tea sets, and finely crafted accessories were all presented to you with utmost sincerity and a touch of the Xianzhou. But despite their efforts, what truly captivated you was the food.

Jing Yuan, ever the indulgent host, made sure you tasted everything.

Steamed dumplings filled with fragrant broth that burst the moment you bit into them. Crispy duck brushed with a glossy, caramelized glaze. Fluffy lotus seed pastries, subtly sweet and impossibly soft. You were handed skewers of spiced meat, bowls of fresh noodles, and warm cups of floral-infused tea before you even had time to finish what was already in your hands.

"You should pace yourself, Your Grace," Jing Yuan remarked, amused as he handed you yet another delicacy—a delicate mooncake with an intricate design pressed into its golden crust. "I fear the entirety of the Xianzhou’s culinary scene might end up on our table at this rate."

You swallowed a bite of your current dish, shaking your head with a grin. "You're the one accepting everything on my behalf."

He feigned innocence. "I would never refuse a citizen’s heartfelt offering to their beloved Creator."

You gave him a flat look, but there was no real irritation behind it. Truth be told, it was nice—to walk freely among the people, to experience their world through their senses. The energy of the marketplace was vibrant, filled with life and laughter, and for once, you didn’t feel like an unreachable deity. You felt... present.

And Jing Yuan?

He never rushed you, never made you feel overwhelmed. He kept a comfortable pace, his tone always light and teasing but never overbearing. He shared small stories about the vendors—how one particular old man had been selling candied fruits in that very spot for decades, how a certain tea house had once been a hidden meeting place for strategists during past conflicts. Every bit of history he wove into the day made you feel more connected to this world.

After what felt like hours of exploring, the two of you eventually found yourselves in a secluded, open-air pavilion overlooking the sprawling city. The view was breathtaking—elegant rooftops stretching into the horizon, sky-faring ships gliding smoothly between them, the setting sun dipping the entire city in warm hues of orange and gold.

You let out a long sigh, leaning against the railing as the cool breeze caressed your skin. "I think I’ve walked more today than I have in months."

Jing Yuan chuckled, standing beside you with his hands clasped behind his back. "That only means you’ve truly experienced the Xianzhou as it should be—through movement, conversation, and indulgence." He turned his gaze toward you, his golden eyes gleaming with something softer, more genuine.

"You’ve granted us your presence, but I wanted you to see that this world—your world—has flourished because of what you created."

You were quiet for a moment, absorbing the weight of his words.

Despite the reverence, the titles, the endless offerings, this was the first time you truly felt the impact of your presence—not as some untouchable being, but as someone whose influence had shaped the very lives of these people. And the way Jing Yuan presented it… it was less about worship and more about appreciation.

A small smile tugged at your lips. "You’ve done a good job showing me that, General."

He hummed, satisfied. "Then my work is far from over. We still have more to see in the coming days."

You exhaled a small laugh, shaking your head. "So this was only the first course?"

His smirk returned. "Consider it the appetizer."

You rolled your eyes but felt something warm bloom in your chest. For the first time since arriving, you weren’t just thinking about the responsibilities or the expectations placed upon you.

As the day stretched on, you couldn’t help but notice something—Jing Yuan was close. Not in a way that was immediately obvious, but in the quiet, lingering touches, the way his presence seemed to loom over you no matter where you went.

At first, it was subtle. A guiding hand resting on the small of your back when maneuvering through the crowded marketplace. The barely-there brush of his fingers against yours when handing you a small pastry.

The way his arm always seemed to find its way near your shoulder whenever you paused to admire something. You thought little of it at first, assuming it was just his way of ensuring you weren’t overwhelmed, but the more you paid attention, the more you realized—he wasn’t just watching over you.

He was hovering.

Even when he wasn’t touching you, he was there—standing just a little too close, his broad frame shadowing yours, his golden eyes flickering toward you with an almost unreadable expression. It wasn’t suffocating, nor was it entirely unwelcome, but it was… noticeable.

When you stopped to observe the koi fish in a serene garden pond, he stood beside you, leaning in just enough that his shoulder nearly touched yours. When you reached for a delicate silk scarf at one of the stalls, his fingers grazed the fabric just a second after yours did.

When you felt a cool breeze pass through one of the higher balconies, he draped a light shawl over your shoulders before you even had a chance to shiver.

And then there were the moments where his presence felt deliberate.

Like when he reached past you to pick up a small trinket, his chest nearly pressing against your back, voice a low murmur as he commented on the craftsmanship. Or when he guided you through the lantern-lit streets as dusk settled, his hand barely ghosting over your wrist, as if he was waiting for you to take it instead.

You weren’t sure if it was intentional.

Jing Yuan was a man of strategy, after all—calculated, deliberate—but he was also known for his easygoing nature. Maybe this was just how he was with everyone, always exuding warmth and familiarity. Maybe you were reading too much into it.

But then came the moment that shattered any doubts.

As you stood atop a high balcony, gazing at the stars beginning to twinkle in the sky, you sighed contentedly. "It’s beautiful here," you murmured, resting your arms on the cool stone railing. "It almost feels unreal."

Jing Yuan stood beside you, his gaze distant yet thoughtful. "Many things feel unreal when one has been apart from them for too long," he said softly.

You turned to glance at him, and that’s when you realized—he was already looking at you. Not just watching, but studying. His golden eyes held something deeper, something unspoken.

Before you could react, he reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. The touch was fleeting, barely more than a whisper against your skin, but it left something in its wake—a slow, creeping awareness that settled deep in your chest.

He withdrew his hand just as quickly, offering a lazy smile, as if the moment hadn’t just sent your thoughts spiraling.

"Shall we continue, Your Grace?" he asked, voice as smooth as ever.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to nod. "Y-yeah."

And as he turned to lead the way, you found yourself gripping the railing for just a second longer, steadying yourself against the sudden, undeniable realization—Jing Yuan wasn’t just being protective.

He was close because he wanted to be.

The days in the Xianzhou Luofu stretched into weeks, each one filled with discovery, leisure, and the constant, undeniable presence of Jing Yuan. True to his word, he showed you the hidden beauties of the region—secluded gardens filled with bioluminescent flora, floating islands where the sky stretched endlessly beneath your feet, and ancient archives containing records that spoke of your existence in reverent detail.

Despite how grand it all was, it was his company that made it truly memorable. You shared countless conversations, indulged in the finest foods, and walked through the streets as if you were simply another traveler—rather than the Creator they all revered. But no matter how relaxed the days seemed, Jing Yuan never strayed far. His presence lingered like an unspoken promise, his touches, though subtle, never accidental.

But tonight… tonight was different.

Jing Yuan had been called away on urgent matters. It was rare for him to leave your side for long, and while his parting words had been gentle—“Don’t wander too far without me, Your Grace.”—you had never been one to follow orders blindly.

And so, under the veil of twilight, you walked alone.

The streets were quiet, the usual bustle of the marketplace replaced with the distant hum of lanterns swaying in the night breeze. The Luofu was beautiful at this hour, bathed in soft, golden light that made the world feel almost suspended in time.

But you weren’t alone.

You felt it before you saw him—a presence, heavy and sharp, like the edge of a blade hovering just close enough to cut.

Instinctively, you stopped, your gaze drifting to the shadows near the entrance of a closed tea house. And then you saw him.

Blade.

He stood partially obscured by the darkness, his crimson eyes gleaming even in the dim light. His posture was relaxed, yet there was an unmistakable intensity to the way he looked at you.

He had been watching.

How long had he been there? How many times had he watched from the shadows, unseen?

Your heart should have pounded in alarm, but it didn’t. Because Blade did not feel like a threat.

He felt like something else—something foreign yet familiar, like a whisper of something long forgotten.

"You shouldn’t be out here alone," his voice was low, carrying easily in the stillness.

You tilted your head slightly, taking a careful step closer. "Are you watching over me?"

Blade didn’t answer immediately. His gaze flickered over you—not in reverence, not in fear, but in something far more unreadable.

"You walk freely," he finally murmured, "yet you are not free."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, but before you could ask what he meant, he moved.

A sudden shift of air, and then—he was closer. Not enough to touch, but enough that you could see every detail of him—the sharp angles of his face, the way his dark hair fell over his eyes, the almost imperceptible tension in his stance.

"Why do you care?" you asked softly.

For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t answer. But then—

"Because you are not theirs," he said, voice quiet yet resolute. "You are not Jing Yuan’s. Not the Xianzhou’s. Not the worshippers’." His eyes met yours, unwavering. "You are your own."

The words settled in your chest, heavy yet oddly comforting.

But before you could respond, a sudden gust of wind stirred the loose strands of your hair—and in the blink of an eye, Blade was gone.

Only the lingering weight of his words remained.

And for the first time since arriving, you realized—you were being watched, not as a deity, but as something far more human.

—

The final night of your stay in the Xianzhou Luofu was nothing short of grand.

A lavish banquet had been arranged in your honor, stretching through the ornate halls of the palace, adorned with glowing lanterns and the soft hum of ancient melodies. The long table was filled with exquisite dishes, each one crafted with painstaking detail—delicate dumplings shaped like blooming flowers, glistening seafood (Xianzhou specialty) drizzled with golden sauces, and rice wines so rich they lingered on the tongue like warm silk.

At the head of the table, you sat in a throne-like chair, a position that left no doubt as to who the night was dedicated to. Across from you, Jing Yuan, dressed in formal robes lined with gold, his usual lazy demeanor softened by something far more sincere.

To your sides, familiar faces—generals, officials, scholars, and even common citizens granted the honor of attending.

The night was filled with laughter, music, and endless toasts to you, to your presence, your existence, your return to their world, no matter how fleeting. Even as the gifts piled before you—intricately woven silks, handcrafted jewelry, rare artifacts from distant planets—you knew it was not the gifts themselves that mattered. It was the devotion.

And yet, as the night stretched on, you found yourself meeting Jing Yuan’s gaze more times than you could count. There was something in his eyes, something different than the adoration the others held. A quiet certainty, a claim he never voiced aloud but one you felt all the same.

You weren’t sure how much of the wine you had actually drunk by the time the night ended, but your body felt warm and exhausted when you finally retreated to the sanctuary of your chambers.

The moment your head hit the plush silk pillows, you felt your limbs grow heavy, your mind already drifting into half-consciousness.

And then there was a knock at your door.

Gentle, but deliberate.

For a moment, you considered ignoring it. But somehow, you already knew who it was.

With a tired sigh, you rose from your bed, pulling a loose robe over your nightclothes before padding toward the door. As it slid open, Jing Yuan stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the corridor lanterns.

Unlike before, he had shed his formal robes for something simpler, though he still looked effortlessly regal.

"Still awake?" his voice was low, carrying the warmth of someone who already knew the answer.

"Not really," you murmured, rubbing at your temple. "Do you need something?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a small, ornate box. The deep red lacquer gleamed under the soft light, adorned with intricate golden filigree.

"For you," he said simply, offering it to you.

Curious, you took the box and lifted the lid. Inside, nestled against deep velvet, was a necklace—a delicate yet intricately designed pendant, shimmering under the dim lighting. It was clearly no ordinary accessory. The craftsmanship alone spoke of its importance, but beyond that, there was something about it that felt… personal.

"For safety," Jing Yuan murmured, stepping closer. "It’s embedded with a warding charm, one that will protect you even when I am not at your side."

You swallowed, fingers brushing over the pendant’s cool surface. "You could’ve just given this to me at the banquet," you said, voice softer than you intended.

"I could have," he agreed, stepping even closer. His fingers ghosted over yours before gently taking the necklace from your grasp. "May I?"

Your breath hitched slightly. "Go ahead."

He moved with deliberate slowness, stepping behind you as he lifted the necklace. You felt the cool brush of metal against your skin as he draped it around your neck, his fingers barely grazing the sensitive skin at the nape. The warmth of his hands, the quiet closeness of him—it sent an unfamiliar shiver down your spine.

The clasp clicked into place, but Jing Yuan didn’t move away. Instead, his fingers lingered, lightly adjusting the chain, his breath warm against the side of your face.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice lower now, almost… intimate.

You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of just how close he was. "For safety, huh?" you muttered, touching the pendant lightly.

"Of course," he said smoothly. But when you turned to glance at him, his golden eyes held something that betrayed the simple explanation.

This was not just for safety.

It was a claim. A silent, unspoken tether between you and him, you wondered if you were truly prepared for the implications of it.

—

The morning was bright and bustling with activity as the final preparations for your departure were completed. Servants and attendants moved swiftly, ensuring that every last detail was accounted for—your flagship had been polished to a pristine gleam, your outfits carefully selected and packed, luxurious meals prepared in case Penacony’s cuisine wasn’t to your liking (though you doubted that would be an issue), and of course, the countless gifts you had received were securely stored aboard.

It was as if the entire Xianzhou Luofu had come together for this moment, ensuring that your transition to the next region was nothing short of perfect.

You could feel the excitement thrumming in your veins. Though your time here had been unforgettable, a part of you couldn't wait to see what awaited you in Penacony. The mere thought of their reaction upon your arrival filled you with anticipation. You imagined the vibrant city streets, the glimmering neon lights, and the joy on their faces when they finally laid eyes on you.

The grand port was lined with citizens gathered to bid you farewell. Banners waved in the morning breeze, and the scent of incense and fresh flowers filled the air. As you walked towards the boarding ramp, countless voices called out their well wishes, their adoration evident in every word.

Some had tears in their eyes, others clasped their hands in reverence, and a few even dared to step forward, pressing gifts into your hands until your attendants had to take over.

Jing Yuan, ever composed, stood at the forefront of the officials sending you off. His golden eyes held their usual warmth, but there was something else hidden beneath his lazy expression—something unreadable. As you approached him, he inclined his head slightly, a small yet knowing smile tugging at his lips.

"You will be missed," he said, voice smooth as silk. "Do enjoy your stay in Penacony, but don't forget—there are still places in the Luofu you have yet to see. Perhaps, one day, you’ll return."

Something about the way he said it made your chest tighten slightly. Still, you smiled back, unwilling to linger on the strange feeling. "We’ll see," you teased.

A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, but before he could say anything more, your gaze was drawn elsewhere.

Amidst the sea of people, standing slightly apart from the rest, was a figure draped in dark colors—silent, unmoving, yet unmistakable. Blade.

His crimson eyes watched you, sharp and unreadable as always, but you could tell—he had been there for a while, lurking just beyond the crowd’s reach. He was always watching, always within the shadows, yet never too far.

You hesitated for only a moment before meeting his gaze, offering him a quick, subtle smile. His eyes flickered slightly, something almost imperceptible passing over his face before he looked away, melting back into the crowd.

You knew you would see him again in Penacony.

With one final glance at the people of Xianzhou Luofu—at Jing Yuan, at the devoted citizens, at the hidden figure that had already disappeared—you stepped aboard your flagship.

As the engines roared to life and the grand vessel began its ascent, a sense of exhilaration filled you.

A new journey awaited.

And you couldn’t wait to see what Penacony had in store for you.

—

As you settled into the luxurious chambers of your flagship, attendants fluttered around you, ensuring everything was in perfect order for your departure. The soft hum of the ship's engines filled the air, a gentle reminder that soon, you'd be soaring through the stars toward Penacony.

Draped in the finest clothing prepared for the journey, you admired yourself in the full-length mirror. The intricate embroidery, the shimmering fabrics, the way every piece sat perfectly on your frame—it was clear that nothing had been left to chance when selecting your attire.

You felt regal, effortlessly exuding the presence expected of someone of your status.

And yet, as you reached for your travel cloak, one of the attendants hesitated before stepping forward. “Apologies, Your Grace,” she said, bowing slightly, “but General Jing Yuan has requested that you wear this for the journey.”

She lifted a garment encased in a protective silk wrap. You blinked, curiosity piqued. As she unfolded it, your breath hitched slightly.

It was stunning.

Made of Xianzhou’s most exquisite silk, the fabric was impossibly smooth, flowing like liquid in the light. Intricate embroidery of golden threads adorned the sleeves and hem, depicting celestial motifs reminiscent of the Luofu’s heritage.

The colours—deep blues and shimmering silvers—reflected the elegance and authority befitting someone of your position.

But what struck you the most was how perfectly tailored it was. The moment the attendants helped you into it, the fabric molded to your body like a second skin, highlighting your form in a way that was neither restrictive nor excessive.

Every detail, from the precise fit of the collar to the effortless drape of the sleeves, felt as though it had been measured with exact precision.

And yet… you didn’t recall Jing Yuan ever taking your measurements.

Had he arranged this long before your arrival? Had the tailors studied you from afar? Or had he simply known—without needing to ask—what would suit you best?

You turned slightly, admiring the way the silk cascaded with every movement.

Oh well. It was beautiful.

With a soft sigh, you allowed the attendants to fasten the final clasps, running your fingers over the delicate embroidery. If nothing else, Jing Yuan had impeccable taste.

As the flagship made its ascent, you couldn’t help but wonder—had this been merely a gift of fine craftsmanship? Or yet another way for the general to ensure his presence lingered with you, even as you left his domain?

note: hi..hey.....well this is a bit awkward considering i haven't posted part 3 in like months...hopefully this was alright for you guys!

tags 🏷️: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @saltylovetale-blog @toramune @oreo-ren @backintomykpopphaseagain @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @yurassia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealmap @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanist @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend @v-ish @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcrow @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqqo @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu @vanilla-sweets @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @seipaws @clavichordcleffa @uhhhiwassupp @youdontneedyoknowlol @the-lazy-perfectionist @issacdarknight @lucienbarkbark @bizzybkd @obliviousariies2007 @coffee-seedy

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(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter! if i forgot to tag you im so sorry!)

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liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

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hard-core-super-star · 5 months ago

Text

brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3

[part one | part two]

* * * * * * *

Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.

That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive.

The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.

Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.

It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.

(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)

You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.

Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.

She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.

Well, except because you really missed Wanda.

Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.

Your bed.

That was the second thing Natasha made you learn.

Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.

That was the third thing you learned.

Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.

It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.

You didn't understand how real that was until now.

Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.

You were theirs.

You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.

A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."

"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your grip on me begs to differ."

At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."

It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.

Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.

Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.

After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.

"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."

Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"

You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.

However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.

"Yes, Daddy. I know."

She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"

You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."

Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.

"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.

"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."

"Good. Thank you, Friday."

The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.

"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"

You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.

You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.

In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.

Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.

"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."

You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.

You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.

The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.

"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."

Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.

"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"

"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."

The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."

"When are you going to let that go?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."

Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.

Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.

They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.

Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."

"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

"I'm talking to all of you."

"Nice save, 'Tasha."

"Shut up."

There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.

"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"

You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.

"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.

"I'm guessing this means training's going well."

"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."

The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.

It's far too fun.

"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.

You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.

Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."

"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.

A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Oh, I will."

Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.

Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.

Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."

You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.

You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.

Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.

The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.

"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."

"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"

You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.

Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.

"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."

The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.

"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"

"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"

The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.

You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.

"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.

You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.

Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."

Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.

"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."

"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."

"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."

The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."

Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.

"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."

You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.

"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."

Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.

You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.

The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.

They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.

"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."

"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."

That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.

Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.

Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"

Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."

The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.

Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.

"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.

Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"

"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."

"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.

Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"

The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."

You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."

The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding.

Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."

"Don't rush her, little witch."

Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."

A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.

But the Widow really can't help herself.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."

Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.

Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.

Your bed.

With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.

#wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #mommy wanda #avengers fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu imagine #wlw fic #writing

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thragedys · 9 months ago

Text

Clear Mind

Ren x Fem Reader

REBOOTING...

Synopsis: With many dreadful thoughts lingering on your conscience, you have been experiencing trouble regarding trust in the people close to you. With the news rambling on about murders and the everlasting feeling of eyes glaring at you, you’re close to breaking. You can’t shake that forever-present paranoia alone.

Word count: 2.3k

Includes: Ren x Fem Reader, comfort, Ren being sweet, establishing a relationship, smut, oral, cunnilingus, kissing, clothed orgasm

A/N: Ren is too cute! I had to write something about him.

It was strange—his behaviour. You’ve never seen anything quite like it, the constant jitters in his facade. Your emotions are constantly changing. At this point, you are uncertain how you feel towards Ren. Part of you pities him and wants to remain his friend, but the other wants to get as far away as possible. Miles, perhaps a new city. However far your legs can take you.

He hasn’t done anything to harm you. He would never. His protectiveness, however, disturbs you deeply. How he told your friends he was your boyfriend without the slightest hint of hesitation, the way he’s so effortlessly affectionate and intimate. If you’re able to clear the air with him this evening, there will be no more worries remaining. Other than the uneasy sensation of a set of prying eyes burning through you every passing moment.

You blame your neighbour, Violet, for that unnerving sense of paranoia. She just had to mention she witnessed someone exiting your apartment. Someone you weren’t aware was in there in the first place.

Knock, knock, knock.

Three gentle taps against your door. It’s Ren. Your heart sinks to your stomach as you stand to your feet, legs wobbling as you make your way to answer. Pulling down the handle, you take a deep breath and gaze up at the lanky figure before you.

“Hi! Is everything okay? You look… Ill?” Ren pats his hand against the side of your face and you huff, feeling guilty for ever suspecting anything of him. Awkward people tend to shift their behaviour when around new individuals to avoid getting embarrassed, that’s likely his reasoning.

“I just need to talk to someone. I’ve been having trouble sleeping recently.”

“Told you that you could stay at my place whenever you wanted, didn’t I?” His smile was soft, raising the bag of goodies he brought with him. “Can I come in? It’s food and a few other things.”

…

“Wow, you don’t look well at all… Are you sure you’re okay?” His concern grows as you snap out of your trance, opening the door further for him to enter.

“I’m scared, Ren.”

“Of what? You can tell me anything— everything for that matter.”

“I swear I saw someone outside of my window a few days ago. I don’t know what they were doing, but I saw them. Hardly anyone is ever out there.”

“Hmm? Were they looking your way?”

“…I don’t think so. I can’t remember.”

“Okay, that’s fine! Don’t stress over it. We can talk about this after we eat. You need to get some food in you.”

Pulling out the boxed portions of food, he slides yours over and begins digging into his own, keeping a keen eye on you while you nibble at your meal. Even though you can’t shake the impending dread, you regain your appetite after seeing he purchased your favourite for you.

Now you feel a little bit better. You push any food waste aside and notice how he immediately goes to dispose of it, taking care of your duties inside of your own home without you having to ask. Ren was a sweetheart.

“How do you want to do this? Lying down, sitting, standing?” He taps his fingers against the tabletop, his eyes filled with worry as you space out yet again.

“Do what?”

“Talk. I wanna hear everything you have to say so you can get it off of your mind.”

“Oh, the sofa will do. Thank you for coming over.”

“No need to thank me! I’m happy to be here, so happy to be with you. I missed you so much.”

Not quite catching the last part of his sentence, you sink onto the sofa and rest your head against his arm. You pour your heart out to him, unsure if you’re overstepping by not holding back — but he did tell you he’s here to listen. And he did.

When you finished listing off your worries, he hummed and squeezed you tighter, now realising that during your full confession, you somehow ended up in his embrace. His nose is pressed into your hair, one hand stroking up and down your back, hushing you as a few tears slip from your eyes.

“Don’t cry, Angel… You’re safe, I promise.” Judging from the tone of his voice, you can tell he is hurt by how upset you’ve been. “I’m here for you. Do you want to stay at my place tonight? Clear your head, get away from all those thoughts.”

“I can’t hide from my fears forever, Ren.”

“Then you’ll have to let me fight them off. I’ll beat up the bad guys for you and the bad thoughts.” He raises his fists playfully, locking eyes with you as you lift your head.

“Are you sure you could handle them?”

“Easily! Oh, I forgot to ask…” Ren murmurs, twiddling with the fabric of your shirt. “I am allowed to stay over, aren’t I? I brought my essentials, so…”

“Of course. I’m going to use the bathroom; you can go get yourself comfy.”

“You’re the best! I’ll be waiting for you.” He springs to his feet and wanders off into your bedroom, leaving you to tend to your nighttime routine.

Applying the final step of your skincare, you pat your face and yawn. It has gotten quite late, you’re starting to wonder whether Ren fell asleep without you. Entering the bedroom, you spot him sitting on the edge of the bed, as though he was seriously waiting on your command so he could lie down. His eyes sparkle when they land on your figure, and his arms open.

“Snuggle?” He flutters his eyelashes, his blue eyes boring through yours as you sit on his lap.

“Sure.”

“I checked outside of your window. I looked everywhere I could and saw nothing suspicious. I might have scared them off.”

“Maybe you did.”

“Do I get a reward?”

“Do you deserve one?”

“But… I protected you! I made sure any scary people left you alone. They won’t dare try anything while I’m here.”

“I was teasing you, Ren.”

“Oh…”

“You’re such a good boy. You do everything you can to help me.”

“Don’t say things like that…!” His face lights up a bright shade of red, eyes snapping to the side to avoid your gaze.

“Why are you so cute?”

“Dunno… Why are you so beautiful? You are an angel. My angel.” Ren trails off, propping himself above you while your body is crushed to the mattress. “Mine.”

Your face is held in his palms, his eyes laced with nothing but adoration as they analyse you. He was tracing every detail of your face, trailing down your body, and stopping in their tracks when he felt a tug on the sleeve of his turtleneck. As he redirects his gaze back up to your face, he notices how your hand sneakily wrapped itself in his hair and edged him closer towards you.

He can never get used to this. The way you kiss him first destroys him. If he wasn’t desperate enough before, he is now. After recollecting his thoughts, he nips at your bottom lip and grants himself more access to your mouth, taking control from here. His pretty girl shouldn’t have to put all the work in.

“Can I…?” Ren mumbles into your mouth before pulling away, the string of saliva keeping you both connected. He twangs the waistband of your shorts, his index finger tracing swirls on your exposed stomach.

“Yeah…”

“I’ll be gentle. I know you haven’t been feeling your best, so let me do everything today. I just wanna take your mind off of things. I want you to be happy again.”

“I am happy when I’m with you. You make me feel safe.”

“…?” Ren halts, his hair brushing against your leg as he stares up at you from between your thighs.

“You mean a lot to me, Ren. More than you think. You drop everything for me when I need you most—no one has ever valued me that much before.”

“It will always be you above anything else. Nothing will ever be more important than you.” He slides down your panties, revealing the mess before him.

“I love you.” Ren uttered, planting kisses down your inner thigh.

It went unheard, exactly as he was hoping it would. His words were mumbled as he delved in between your folds, his tongue exploring you frantically as if it were his first time. Your cunt was familiar with him now. His tongue traced the shape of a heart on your clit, then repeated similar motions until he watched your eyes flicker shut.

“Keep them open, please…” Ren laces his hand with yours, giving it a firm squeeze.

He wants you to watch everything he does, wants you to remember who made you feel so good.

Your hips buck forward, accidentally pressing yourself even closer to him. His hands wrapped around your thighs, holding you firmly in place while he savored your taste. No other reward could compare to this. The thought that you were this wet because of him riles him up. He made you this way, no one else.

Slipping two fingers into your entrance, he remains gentle like he had promised. He was relishing in your reactions, slowly bringing you closer to an orgasm, then taking it away by altering his rhythm. It’s not that he doesn’t want you to cum for him—it’s that he doesn’t want this to end. For the past few days he hasn’t seen you face to face; he had craved this exact encounter.

Your walls tighten around him, an indicator that you won’t be able to hold on much longer, but he doesn’t slow down. He’s lost in your taste, entranced by the way you push yourself against him, allowing him to ravish you as if you were his last meal. The longer he goes, the sloppier he gets. Due to the grip you have on his hair, it became quite messy—the strays flying freely.

“I’m so close, Ren…” You whine, letting his name roll off of your tongue a few more times. Your eyes have grown hazy, unable to take them off him.

“Then cum for me. It’s my reward after all…”

Hearing his words pushed you, causing the cord building intricately inside of you to snap. You muffled your moan, forgetting the time and the likelihood of your neighbours attempting to get rest. The last thing you need is a visit from security due to a noise complaint. Ren pulls back, sliding his fingers from your cunt and wiping any fluid that smeared on his face away.

There was something odd about him. Whether it be the dark lighting or that look in his eyes—there was a different energy surrounding him. He likes the fingers that have been inside of you, sending a shudder down his spine.

“What…? Do you want a taste too? I don’t mind sharing if it’s with you.” Ren pouts, extending his fingers to brush across your lips, smearing your slick across them.

“You’re looking at me all funny. Is there something wrong?” Ren’s once smug demeanour disappears, his hand patting his face while you shake your head.

“You’re so handsome. I’m so lucky.”

“…!” Ren leans forward, his breath hitching as if he were in disbelief.

“I was jealous when that girl was all over you in that store. Really jealous. I don’t know what we are or if we even are an official thing, but I know I would love to be your real girlfriend.”

“Angel…” Ren murmurs, utter disbelief upon him as he tries to get his words out. “You’re going to make me cry— in a good way… A really good way! I never knew—”

“Can you stay over more often?” Your eyes water, locking with Ren’s teary pair.

“I’ll stay over whenever you want, all you have to do is ask. I can’t believe this is actually… Do you know— Ugh. I can’t get my words out, why now?” Ren mopes due to his poor communication, but your chuckle grants him enough reassurance to continue trying.

“I was hoping you felt the same way I did, but I didn’t want to force anything on you. I’m sorry things have been so confusing between us. If I would’ve known, I would’ve made it all so much clearer.”

“Does this mean we’re officially dating?”

“I suppose… but, if you want the truth, we already were a long time ago in my mind. My eyes have only been on you. They always will be. They always have been…”

“Hm?” You rub your thumb over his knuckles, curious to hear what he said.

“Nothing, I’m just rambling on, typical me…” Ren beams, nestling his head down onto your chest. “It feels nice to know you’re only mine now.”

“Did you think I wanted anyone else?”

“No… but! That doesn’t stop people from wanting you. They can’t have you, so I win.”

“You seem very proud of yourself.”

“I am. I’m an even prouder boyfriend knowing you’re the one I have.”

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

“Huh?” Ren lifts his head, his brows furrowed.

“I didn’t have the chance to give you any pleasure.”

“I had lots, don’t worry. Seeing you like that was enough for me.”

“Did you…?” You raise an eyebrow, squinting your eyes as your inquisitive nature piques.

“…” Ren’s cheeks light up, already aware of what you are insinuating. “Well— Yes! How couldn’t I? You’re just soo pretty, and you were moaning my name in that whiny voice, and—”

“It’s okay; you don’t need to explain. Do you want to clean yourself up?”

“M’ too sleepy. I’ll take a shower in the morning and sort everything out then.”

“I’ll make sure to wake you up nice and early with me in that case.”

Accepting defeat at the early rise, Ren groans and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His body is sprawled out on top of yours, his limbs snuggling you tightly. There is no chance of you escaping him in the night with his sheer strength, you would need to be plied off of him to be free again. Before you know it, your eyes unwillingly close and your heart sinks with his, blissfully falling into a slumber together.

#14 days with you #14dwy #14 days with you ren #ren x reader #smut #fanfic #i want to take a bite of him #glitch divider: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

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eu-nicola · 5 months ago

Text

Morocco part 3

and final

summary: Rafe says goodbye to Sofia and leaves her in outer banks while he goes to Morocco, where you are also and the danger that happens there rekindles the spark both of you thought had lost

warnings: mention of death, pregnancy

word counter: 10706

author's note: spoilers of s4, things have been changed but there are still spoilers, english is not my first language, this is long so get ready to read

The ride home was shrouded in a fog of silence and empty stares. No one talked much; JJ’s death had left an open wound, an empty space that was impossible to ignore. You felt that weight in every fiber of your being, as if the air you breathed was thicker and harder to swallow. Even Rafe, always tough, showed a certain discomfort. It had been he who, in an act of unexpected humanity, had taken the shovel and buried JJ’s body with his own hands. His movements had been slow, while the echo of the earth falling on the body still resonated in your mind as a cruel reminder of how ephemeral life was.

They had achieved what they had sought so long. The Blue Crown, the relic that had led them all to the most dangerous adventures of their lives, was now in their possession. But the triumph tasted bitter, tinged with the boy’s absence. The laughter, JJ’s jokes, his unbridled energy and his unwavering loyalty were things they could never replace. Outer Banks felt different without him, as if a shadow had fallen over the place, obscuring happy memories and hopes for a better future.

Despite everything, there was one dim light that held everyone together: Sarah and John B’s baby. It was as if the news of his arrival was the only thing keeping the spark of life in everyone’s eyes. You knew that this baby would be named after their lost friend, a tribute that would forever connect them to the past. And John B, despite his pain, had already hinted that he wanted Pope to be the new godfather, a gesture that had brought tears to everyone’s eyes.

You watched all of this from a sort of distance, as if you were trapped in limbo. You didn’t know what to expect from your own life, from your future. The trip to Morocco had changed everything, not only because of the experiences you had lived through, but because of the promises and decisions yet to be made. You were expecting Rafe’s child, and the uncertainty of what that meant kept you on edge. What he had said in Morocco, the words laden with desire and a commitment you barely understood, kept fluttering through your mind. Was it real? Could you trust him to accept it, to keep those promises now that the adventure was over and reality was setting in again?

Rafe, sitting beside you on the shuttle back, stared out the window with his jaw set and his eyes lost somewhere on the horizon. You hadn't exchanged many words since JJ's death. You didn't know if he remembered what he had said, if the heat of the moment had faded into the coldness of reality.

The landscape passed by at full speed, but for you everything was suspended in a strange waiting pattern. There was no certainty about what would happen once you returned home. Rafe was a mystery, an enigma that you had loved and feared in equal measure. And now, with a child on the way, the future felt like a blank slate, ready to be written with the decisions that were to come, decisions that would define not only your life, but that of your child.

Hours later, upon returning home, the air was filled with a familiarity that contrasted with everything they had experienced abroad. Each of the group dispersed, returning to their own lives, immersed in a cloud of exhaustion and memories. You, with your heart still reeling, headed to your family mansion. The high walls and long shadows of the place greeted you with a sense of relief, as if you had finally found shelter after a long and stormy journey.

The first to see you was your father. His always imposing bearing seemed even firmer that afternoon. He approached you with determined steps and, to your surprise, a slight smile on his lips. He was not a man known for his displays of affection or fatherly affection, but this time, his hand rested on your shoulder with a touch that spoke more than a thousand words. “Well done,” was all he said. You had heard him say those words in contexts of success and victory, but this time, you knew there was something deeper behind them. He had underestimated you for so long that seeing his approval made you feel a weight less on your chest.

The conversation turned to what you had achieved, the Blue Crown and all that it had meant. Despite your father's joy, your mind kept wandering, divided between the euphoria of his approval and the constant shadow of uncertainty that Rafe cast over you.

Rafe arrived shortly after. Your father wasted no time and, with a look that combined defiance and humor, he addressed him with a few words: “Well done, Cameron. And congratulations on your engagement, although it seems it was not as solid as I thought.” Your father's ironic smile was a knife in the air.

Rafe reacted immediately, raising his chin with that mixture of haughtiness and tiredness that you knew so well. “I finished it,” he replied, his words sharp but full of conviction. The look between the two men was fleeting but intense. Your father, who had always been a good reader, let out a short, dry laugh, as if he had just won a game that only he understood. He didn't insist any further and walked away, giving you one last look that seemed to say that everything was fine, that you had done the right thing.

After the brief meeting in which your father and Rafe had exchanged words, you felt the weight of fatigue take hold of you. As you watched Rafe walk away, his silhouette fading into the dusk of the evening, a long, deep sigh escaped your lips. You knew you needed space, not only to process what had happened, but also to find clarity in the whirlwind of emotions and decisions that were crowding your mind.

You stayed in the mansion, allowing the silence and familiarity of the place to envelop you like a hug. You walked through the halls with slow steps, touching the walls and letting the coldness of the stone remind you that you were there, that everything had been real.

You reached your room and closed the door behind you, leaning against it as you closed your eyes. You headed to the large window that looked out onto the garden, the lights of the night beginning to flicker, and for an instant, the view gave you some calm. Outside, the breeze moved the leaves of the trees, and the whisper of the wind was a reminder that, at least for now, you were safe.

The desire to rest was overwhelming. You took off your shoes and let your feet feel the soft carpet beneath them. You changed your clothes into something more comfortable and let yourself fall into the bed, which seemed softer and more welcoming than you remembered. You closed your eyes and tried to clear your mind, but the images and memories kept coming, like flashes you couldn't ignore.

What you needed most was a moment away from him, a space to put your thoughts in order without the intensity of his presence influencing you. You had shared so much in such a short time that your world seemed to revolve around him, and that scared you. You wanted to think about what it all meant, what you would be able to accept, and what you really wanted for yourself and for the future that, without realizing it, you had begun to imagine.

With a tired sigh, you lay down on the bed, letting the softness of the sheets envelop you. The distant sound of crickets and the tranquility of the place helped you disconnect little by little. Your body, physically and emotionally exhausted, was leading you to sleep, giving you the rest you had longed for. For the first time in days, you allowed yourself to not think, to not feel the weight of the world on your shoulders, and just be you, in the shelter of your home.

When you woke up, the soft glow of the morning sun was streaming through the window, enveloping the room in a warm, golden glow. You blinked slowly, still sleepy, and your gaze landed on your phone. A notification caught your attention: a text from Rafe. It didn't surprise you, but it did make your heart beat a little faster. It said he wanted to see you, to come to his house.

Without answering, you put your phone aside and got up. You headed to the bathroom, letting the hot shower water run over your skin, washing away the tiredness that still lingered in your body. When you were done, you changed calmly, choosing an outfit that made you feel comfortable and safe. Breakfast was brief; just a cup of coffee and some fruit that you savored without haste.

When you finally felt ready, you grabbed your keys and left the house. The drive to Rafe's house felt longer than usual. When you arrived, an unexpected scene greeted you.

Rafe was standing on the porch, his expression tense and his hands gesturing in frustration as he argued with Sofia. Sofia, eyes bright and cheeks flushed with anger and distress, was trying to defend herself. You heard her say in a broken voice that everything she had done was because he had called her "Pogue," a word that to her was more than an insult; it was a rejection.

Rafe’s face hardened even further, his blue eyes flashing with anger. To him, that justification was a mockery. He couldn’t believe the ridiculousness of that confession. He demanded that she give him back the ring he had given her, a ring that belonged to his mother, a symbol that had once meant a future together. His voice was so firm and icy that even from your position, a little apart, you could feel the tension in the air. With one last look of despair, Sofia took off the ring with shaking hands and handed it to him. Without another word, she quickly left, passing you by with tears running down her cheeks. She didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at you. She simply disappeared down the road, leaving a trail of pain and failure behind her.

Rafe stood still for a moment, staring at the ring in his hand as if it were a weight he wanted to get rid of immediately. When he looked up and saw you, something in his expression changed. The hardness faded briefly, replaced by a flash of something you certainly didn’t know what it was.

As you approached him, you noticed how Rafe, with a quick and almost instinctive movement, put the ring in his pocket. Without hesitation, you moved closer and greeted him with a kiss, feeling the slight tremor in his lips.

“What happened?” you asked, trying to read in his eyes some sign that betrayed the conversation he had just had with Sofia.

“Nothing important,” he answered, looking away for a second before looking at you firmly again. “I just had to make it clear that this,” he said, making a gesture that implied everything that had happened with Sofia, “doesn't mean anything anymore.”

You nodded, although an uncomfortable knot formed in your stomach. The conversation you had been avoiding since Morocco was unavoidable, and the time had come.

“Rafe, we have to talk,” you said in a more serious tone, causing his expression to change as well. He nodded, waiting for you to continue. “What will happen to us now?” After everything that happened in Morocco... everything we said...

Rafe looked at you with an intensity that made the air feel thicker.

“I want to marry you,” he said, without hesitation. But there was something else in his voice, a note that you recognized as uncertainty.

You sighed and looked down for a moment, searching for the right words.

“I’m not sure, Rafe. You were with Sofia. If what happened hadn’t happened, would you have left her?” The question hung in the air, weighing between you like an unspoken truth.

He didn’t answer right away, and the pause made you feel like your heart stopped for a second. But then, with a determined gesture, he came closer and took your hands.

“You’re right to doubt, but listen,” he said, his voice deep and sincere. “If Sofia did what she did now, she would have done it sometime later. And it would have ruined everything, our marriage, my life… it would have brought me down. Her doing it now opened my eyes. It made me realize that the one I really wanted was you. Because I couldn’t stand to see you with someone else, to see you married to someone else, happy with another man. Not after everything we’ve been through together.”

His words were a torrent of emotions, and for a moment you were silent, taking in each one. The warmth of his hands in yours was an anchor, and when he raised a hand to caress your face, you felt a single tear run down your cheek.

“Rafe…” you whispered, and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if your words were all he needed to keep going.

You spent the day at Rafe’s house. Every corner of the place reflected his presence: the photographs on the shelves, the personal details on the furniture, and the subtle aroma that seemed to permeate the walls. You walked slowly, observing everything carefully, aware that this space would one day become your home.

Rafe watched you from the other side of the room. He knew that, although you had agreed to be there and spend this moment with him, there was a gesture he had to make. The ring that had once belonged to his mother and that, for a time, had been on Sofia's hand, was no longer a pure symbol.

As he walked towards you, he thought about how he knew you better than anyone else. He knew that you would not agree to wear that ring, not after everything that had happened. As much as it meant something special in his family, you would understand the burden it carried and what it symbolized. His thoughts were intertwined with the decision he had made: he would look for a new one, perhaps more than one.

Still, in time, you would wear both rings: the new one, and his mother's. But using just the old one wouldn't be an option, and Rafe understood that.

It had been two weeks since they returned from Morocco. Everything had calmed down, but there was still a tension in the air that didn't seem to want to go away. There were things you still hadn't talked about and you wanted to but you didn't know who to talk to.

The idea of talking to Sarah crossed your mind several times, but you quickly put it aside. Although you both shared something very big in common, the reality was that you had never been very close to her. Besides, she had her own problems: the pregnancy, her relationship with John B., everything that had happened with JJ... and you didn't want to add more to her burden. It wasn't the time.

You decided that the best thing was to go to the doctor alone, to confirm that everything was okay. Maybe find some peace at that moment.

When you arrived at the clinic, you felt a little nervous. The atmosphere was calm, but the discomfort of what you had to face didn't let you be completely relaxed. You sat in the waiting room, going over the thousand and one things that were running through your mind.

Finally, your name was called, and you walked into the office. The doctor greeted you kindly, motioned for you to sit down, and began asking you some general questions about your health and emotional state. You knew that was important, but you couldn’t help but feel like everything was about to change.

“Everything seems to be in order,” the doctor said with a smile as he looked over your results. “Your pregnancy is progressing well. You’re in the sixth week. It’s early, but everything we see so far is positive.”

You felt a wave of relief run through your body. At least at the moment, things seemed to be going well. But, inside, you were still a little lost. How were you supposed to handle all of this? How was something like this supposed to be handled?

The doctor, as if reading your thoughts, continued.

“The most important thing now is that you eat well. Your body is working for you and the baby. You need to make sure your diet is right for both of you.” He looked at you with slight concern. “And don’t stress yourself out.” That's a very important factor. Stress can affect not only your well-being, but that of the baby. Try to get enough rest and not overload your mind.

You knew it wasn't going to be easy. Stress was a constant in your life, but, for the moment, those words were what you needed to hear.

As you left the consultation, you felt a mix of relief and confusion. Everything seemed fine.

When you got home, the atmosphere seemed different. You had been alone in your mind all day, reflecting on everything you had experienced in the last few weeks. Despite everything, your father's call had taken you out of that bubble and brought you back to reality.

He was waiting for you in the living room, sitting in his usual chair, staring at the turned-off television. He wasn't watching anything in particular, he was just thinking, and you knew that. When you walked in, he smiled at you, although there was something in his eyes that you couldn't decipher.

“Take a seat, daughter,” he said in a calm tone, inviting you to sit in front of him. It wasn’t common for him to talk about personal matters like that, but you knew something important was coming.

You sat down, leaving your bag on the floor and crossing your legs, preparing yourself for what awaited you. The silence between the two of you was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was more like a kind of calm before the storm.

“Your mother…” he began, and you already knew what he was going to say. There was something in his voice that showed a mix of tiredness and resignation. “She wants to see you again.”

You didn’t know how to react. Your heart skipped a beat, a kind of knot formed in your stomach. Your mother had never been a part of your life in the way one would expect. Since you were nine, she had chosen her freedom over you, over family, over everything. She left in search of something you never understood. And now, after all those years, she wanted to come back as if nothing had happened. As if life could go back to the instant it left.

Your father continued, not looking directly into your eyes, as if he preferred to talk about her without doing it face to face.

“I know it hasn’t been easy for you,” he said quietly. “She was never there when you needed her the most. It was my job, my responsibility… I raised you, I gave you what you needed, and although I know it wasn’t perfect, I did it with everything I had.”

He sighed, and for a moment, the weight of his words filled the space between the two of you. You knew how much it had cost him, what he had had to sacrifice to be a father and a mother at the same time.

“I’m not asking you to forgive her or accept her right away,” he continued. “What I’m asking is that you don’t treat her badly. If you want to reject her, do it, but don’t argue with her. She’ll be here for a while, and we’ll both welcome her.” If we’re lucky, she’ll be gone soon, and you can go back to your normal days, to your life, as if nothing had happened.

You stayed silent, processing his words. It wasn’t just what he was telling you, but also what he wasn’t saying. You knew he was worried about how you might react, how difficult it would be for you. But he didn’t want you to get into something that could only make things more complicated than they already were.

“And one more thing,” he added, finally looking at you, his eyes steady and sincere. “I don’t want you to talk to her about Morocco, or Rafe, or anything that’s affecting you right now. She’s not here to get involved in your life again. If you do, you’ll only open a door that we don’t need to open. She has her own life and you have yours.”

You couldn’t help the feeling of anger, frustration, and pain rising in your chest. It wasn’t just that your mother abandoned you, but that she now intended to come back as if she hadn’t left a mark. As if the years of abandonment could be erased in the blink of an eye. But what hurt you the most was that your father was asking you to accept all of that. You understood it, somehow. He just wanted to avoid more conflict, more pain. And what he was asking of you was reasonable, but you couldn't help but feel trapped.

"I will, father," you said, your voice a little cracked. "I promise."

You stood up, knowing that this would be a difficult moment. You knew that the situation wouldn't be easy for anyone. But for your father, and for everything he had done for you, you were going to try. At least, you owed him that.

"Your mother won't be home for another month," your father said in a deep voice, as if the weight of that word, "month," was the only thing you could take in. "Don't worry."

That was the last thing you heard, as you left the room, you felt a mix of emotions. The weight of what was waiting for you was upon you, but for a moment you held on to the idea that everything could be better.

Your life was going to change once again, and you didn't know if you were ready for it.

Despite this, the days passed peacefully, more peacefully than you had imagined. You focused more on yourself, on your baby, without saying a single word about it to anyone. Despite being surrounded by people who loved you, you decided to keep that part of your life to yourself, letting your body and mind adjust to what was to come. Each day that passed, your heart was filled with a mix of excitement and fear, the future was uncertain, but you knew there was something beautiful and new waiting for you.

You and Rafe spent your days as you always had, but for you everything you did now seemed to revolve around that little life growing inside you.

One afternoon, when the sun was beginning to set and the sky was turning an orange color, Rafe invited you for a walk. There was something in his attitude that made you suspect that something was about to happen, but you didn’t give it any importance. The two of you were walking through the garden, enjoying the peace, when suddenly, he stopped in front of you, his expression serious, but with a spark of excitement in his eyes.

“I want to do something,” he said in a low, but firm voice.

You stopped, looking at him curiously. You didn’t know what to expect, but the calmness of his tone only increased your intrigue. Before you could say anything, he pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket and opened it in front of you. Inside, not one, not two, but four rings glittered. Each one uniquely designed, with vibrantly colored gemstones that reflected the sunset light in an astonishing way. They were beautiful, ostentatious, almost as if he had wanted to encompass everything he felt for you in a single display of his love.

You looked at him in silence, not knowing what to say. He smiled, not losing his composure, but with a spark of nervousness escaping from the corner of his lips.

“I know this is a little… excessive, but I wanted you to know how much I love you, and that the future I want to build with you has no limits,” he said in a tone that tried to be serious but couldn’t hide the slight amusement he felt at the extravagant gesture.

You laughed, a light, genuine laugh, which filled the air with a warm feeling. Rafe looked genuinely nervous, but there was also something so sincere in his gesture that you couldn’t help but smile even more. Four rings? What kind of proposal was this? But at the same time, you understood what he meant by that act. It was his way of showing that he wanted you by his side, of making you feel special, unique. And he had succeeded, without a doubt.

You approached, took one of the rings and looked at it, then another, and another. It was an impressive collection, but you laughed again, amused by the exaggeration of the situation. You felt a little overwhelmed, but also touched by the gesture. Finally, you decided on one of the rings, the one you liked the most, but not before showing Rafe that out of those four, you would wear only two.

“I can’t wear all of these, but this one…” you said as you took the one you were most attracted to. “This one will be perfect.”

Without thinking twice, you let your laughter take over the situation. You fell into his arms with a mix of excitement and affection. “I do, Rafe. I do!” you said between laughs and hugs.

The relief on his face was instantaneous. He put his arms around you, holding you tight, as if he didn't want to ever let you go. There was only you and him, in time you would also wear his mother's ring but for now you wouldn't tell him.

After the proposal, the days passed too quickly. Although the news was still recent, you knew that, somehow, everything was falling into place, the news of the engagement soon reached everyone's ears, and one of the first to find out was your father.

One afternoon, when you came home after a long day, you found him waiting for you in the living room. His posture, always serious and of a man who rarely showed his emotions, was somewhat different that day. There was something in his eyes, a glint that you normally didn't see, as if he had been waiting for something in particular.

You sat down in front of him, and before you could say anything, your father broke the silence. “I heard about your engagement to Rafe,” he said in a firm tone, but with a slight smile on his lips, which he barely managed to hide.

“No… I didn’t know you already knew,” you said, surprised by his reaction.

“I’m your father,” he replied with a slight smile, “it’s hard for something to go unnoticed.” Then, his tone softened a little, and he looked at you intently. “I always wanted you to marry Rafe. He’s a good man, and although I’m not very given to showing it, I’ve always trusted him. Beyond emotions, what he does for you, for this family, gives me the peace of mind of knowing that you’re in good hands.”

You were surprised to hear those words from him, since you had always seen him more concerned about business and image, than showing you that kind of emotional support. But now, in front of you, it seemed different, like what she felt for Rafe was more than just a working relationship, like she really thought he was the best for you, for your future.

“Besides, I always had a good relationship with his father,” she continued, “and now, with what is going to be your marriage, we are going to have more than just a business relationship. This is going to be positive for everyone, for the family and for business.”

You stayed silent, processing his words. Although you didn’t like to see things only from a practical angle, you knew that your father was right in many ways.

The next day, you received a text from Sarah. She had been quiet for the past few days, but as soon as she found out about the engagement, she was quick to send you a text. The message appeared on your screen as soon as you opened your phone:

"Congratulations, future Mrs. Cameron. I can't believe you're marrying my brother. You know, I wish you the best, but don't expect me to agree with you about all this. You're not rid of me yet, I'm going to ask you a lot of questions!"

You laughed at the message, you knew Sarah was never one to express her feelings to you, but you were relieved that she at least agreed, even if it was in her sarcastic and funny way.

You quickly responded with an equally playful message: "Thanks, Sarah. Don't worry, I'm going to need you for the tough questions, be prepared!"

The conversation continued with more jokes and laughter, something that allowed you to relax a little after so many days of uncertainty. But even the days you had to relax would come to an end, in your life those kinds of days didn't last long and this was certainly not going to be the exception.

Shortly after the engagement, everything seemed to calm down. Family, friends, and even acquaintances seemed to be content with the idea that you and Rafe would really take that step together. However, something inside you still hurt, something you hadn't been able to share with him yet: the fact that you were expecting his baby.

The days went by and, although the idea of being a mother was beginning to settle in your mind, the fear and uncertainty about how Rafe would receive the news paralyzed you. It wasn't the perfect time to talk about it, not when you had just accepted his marriage proposal, not when everything seemed to be going the way you wanted. But you couldn't keep ignoring it.

Finally, after a quiet afternoon, while you were both relaxing at home, the moment you were dreading happened unexpectedly.

Rafe approached you in the kitchen while you were preparing something quick for dinner. There was something in his gaze, a slight uncertainty on his face, but he didn't seem to want to talk about it. However, when he came closer to you and ran a hand down your back, a loving gesture, something clicked in your mind. A small movement he noticed, but you didn’t expect him to have such a big reaction.

“You’re… different,” he said, more of a statement than a question. “Are you okay?”

You stopped, turning your back to him so he couldn’t see how the news affected you. But it did. His gaze had changed.

“Rafe…” you murmured, turning to look him in the eyes, knowing you couldn’t hide it anymore. “I’m pregnant.”

The silence fell heavily between the two of you. Rafe stood, completely still, as if those words couldn’t be processed. He didn’t say anything right away, he simply watched you, as if he was expecting this to all be a joke, a misunderstanding.

“What?” The word came out of his mouth as a disbelieving sigh, but his gaze left no doubt that he couldn’t understand what you had just confessed.

You stopped short, anxiety beginning to take over you. You tried to calm your breathing, but your hands were shaking slightly. You knew this moment was crucial, that everything was going to change from now on, and the pressure of telling him the truth about the pregnancy had choked you until now.

“I’m sorry, Rafe… I… I was waiting for the right moment,” you began, your voice soft, but full of uncertainty. “I was supposed to tell you, but… I didn’t know how to do it.”

What you didn’t expect, however, was Rafe’s response. He was silent for a few moments, his expression distant, almost as if he wasn’t there. The initial confusion quickly gave way to a mix of anger and frustration.

“Since when have you known?” His voice came out louder than you expected, the question laced with a pent-up rage. “How long have you been keeping this to yourself?”

You felt yourself caught by his gaze, a mix of fury and confusion that you didn’t know how to handle. “Before I came back from Morocco,” you finally said, not looking at him directly. “I knew right before I came back.”

The change in him was immediate. Fury flared in his eyes, and for a second, he looked like he was going to explode. His breathing became faster, and the space between you was filled with palpable tension.

“Before I came back from Morocco?” he repeated, his voice now laced with disdain. “So you’ve been lying to me all this time. You’ve been avoiding me, hiding something so important from me. Why? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

You tried to get closer to him, but he took a step back, as if your proximity made him even more uncomfortable. “Rafe, I didn’t want this to change things between us. We were already going through so much… I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t want everything to fall apart.”

He kept looking at you, anger more than evident on his face. “What do you mean you didn’t know?! This changes everything! And you hid it from me, as if it wasn’t important. I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me before.”

His words hit you, Rafe’s rage was palpable, and for a moment, you felt small in front of him. You had never seen him so furious, so distant. He wasn’t the man you trusted, he wasn’t the man who had proposed to you with that promise of a future together.

“Rafe, I didn’t want everything to fall apart,” you tried to explain, but words didn’t seem to be enough. “You know that’s not the case. I knew this wasn’t the time to tell you… we already had too many problems, and…”

“We had too many problems!” He interrupted bitterly, a growl coming from his chest. “And you think that makes all of this any less important? What, because we were in the middle of chaos, so it wasn’t going to be relevant that we were expecting a child? Did you really think I wasn’t going to care?!”

You stopped, the weight of his words had hit you like a hammer. You didn’t know what to say. He was angry, confused, and there was a part of him that seemed like it was about to fall apart, but the rage he felt was blinding him.

“Rafe, I…” you didn’t know how to continue. “I thought it was best to wait, that maybe after everything that happened…”

He interrupted you again, his tone already cold, as if he had completely shut down. “I don’t want to hear any more excuses. What bothers me, what really bothers me, is that you didn’t trust me enough. You didn’t care about how I was going to react. You didn’t think for a second about how this was going to affect me.”

The anger wouldn’t go away, and the worst thing was that it seemed to be closing in more and more. There was a wall raised between the two of you, a barrier you didn’t know how to break down.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your words empty. “I didn’t know any other way.”

The room was so quiet that the echo of his breathing was the only thing you heard. He wasn’t looking at you, his face a mask of frustration and sadness, and you didn’t know how to make it right. You didn’t know how to fix it.

Finally, after a few moments that felt like hours, Rafe took a step back and sighed deeply. “I need to think, I need time,” he said in a tense voice, not even looking you in the eye. “This is… too much.”

You watched him walk away, his figure disappearing down the hallway. You stood there, in the middle of the room, not knowing if the words you had said would ever bring you closer to him or if, on the contrary, you had pushed them further away. The future you had imagined with him now seemed uncertain, and the only thing you knew for sure was that everything had changed in the blink of an eye.

But beyond the anger and frustration, what hurt you the most was the feeling that, somewhere deep down, Rafe was still as lost as you were, and you didn't know if you would ever find him again.

After the argument with Rafe, you felt more lost than ever, not knowing how to face everything that was happening. The pressure of your pregnancy and the growing distance between you had left you exhausted, both emotionally and physically. You had tried to avoid talking about it, but something inside you knew you needed support. So it occurred to you to visit Sarah, she could understand you, she was the only one who could understand you.

When you got to where she was, the door was ajar. Sarah was sitting on the couch, staring into the horizon, as if thinking about something very deep. The sound of the wind coming through the window seemed to accompany the calm of the afternoon. You didn't say anything at first. You stood there, watching her for a moment, feeling that alien calm embrace you, even though you knew your mind couldn’t find peace.

“Do you mind if we talk?” You asked quietly, with palpable uncertainty in your tone.

Sarah turned her head upon hearing your voice and motioned for you to come in. Her eyes reflected a mix of surprise and curiosity, but there was also something in her expression that indicated that perhaps, at some point, she already sensed that this could happen.

“No, of course. Come in.” She replied as she settled down on the couch, moving some things around her.

You sat down next to her, keeping a little distance, but at the same time needing to be close. The silence between the two of you was heavy for a few moments, but finally it was you who broke the ice.

“I’m pregnant,” you said suddenly, as if blurting out the phrase was the only way to relieve a weight too great to carry alone.

Sarah looked at you for a few seconds, her expression soft but attentive. He knew you were waiting for his reaction, but he didn't say anything at first, not wanting to interrupt the moment when you decided to share something so personal.

“I knew it…” he replied, after a pause, almost as if he had already suspected it, but without any sign of judgment. “I'm so sorry, but it's… well, I can't imagine what must be going through your head.”

You sighed, letting yourself fall back a little on the couch, staring at the ceiling, searching for the right words.

“It’s… hard, Sarah,” you continued, your voice now a little more broken. “I was trying to hide it, to not think about it. But, after everything that’s happened… with Rafe, with everything… I don’t know what to do.”

Sarah nodded silently, her expression now serious, as if she were trying to understand you. Then, slowly, she turned to you and looked at you with an understanding you had rarely seen in her.

“I’m scared too,” she said suddenly, dropping her mask of perfection. “Of what’s going to happen, of how everything is going to change. It’s not easy, especially when you have no idea if you’re going to be able to do it right.”

Sarah’s words, so simple and sincere, made the pressure in your chest ease a little. The fact that she was scared too gave you a feeling of company, as if you weren’t completely alone on this uncertain path.

“What I worry about the most is… whether I am enough for this baby, whether I will be a good mother.” Your voice shook as you spoke those words, as if what you were saying was also an accusation of yourself.

Sarah looked at you for a long moment, thoughtful, and finally answered, in a soft but firm voice: “There is no manual for how to be a mother. There is no right way, and every day will be a test. But all I know is that when the time comes, you do the best you can. And that is all that matters. Because when you have that baby in your arms, you will know that you will do whatever it takes for him or her, whatever it takes.”

Those words, full of wisdom and unconditional love, were what you needed to hear. The uncertainty and fear were still there, but for the first time, you did not feel so alone. You knew that Sarah was going through something very similar, although her situation was different, but they shared the same fear, the same longing for an uncertain future.

“And about Rafe…” Sarah started, but you cut yourself off, feeling your stomach tighten at the mention of his name.

“I don’t know what to do with him,” you said quickly. “Everything is so broken between us right now… I feel like he’s not ready to be a father, and I don’t know if I am either.”

Sarah looked at you with a glint of understanding in her eyes. “It’s normal to feel that way. No one is ever really ready to be a parent. But you know what? Rafe is… complicated, I know that. But, if there’s one thing I can tell you, it’s that he’s going to have to deal with this somehow, because there’s no going back. And even if you don’t know it now, you might be surprised when you see how much he’s capable of loving that baby. Men have a different way of showing it, but that doesn’t mean both of you don’t feel it.”

You could see that Sarah, despite all her own fears and challenges, was trying to give you some hope. It was rare for the two of you to talk so deeply and openly, but you needed to hear those words from someone who was in a similar situation, someone who understood what it meant to take that leap into the unknown.

“Thank you, Sarah,” you finally said, with a sigh of relief. “I really needed to talk to someone about this.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied with a warm smile. “We’re a team now.”

You felt comforted knowing that even though life wasn’t easy, at least you now had someone to lean on, someone who, like you, was trying to find her way in this new chapter you were both beginning.

The conversation between you continued for a while longer. You didn’t have all the answers, but for the first time in weeks, you spoke to someone who was willing to listen to you.

The days following the meeting with Sarah felt like a mix of surface calm and internal storm. Your father had also found out about the pregnancy and had congratulated you, but he had made it clear that you had to get married before giving birth, and you certainly agreed with that. Despite the uncertainty that continued to surround your relationship with Rafe, you knew that the engagement was still on, at least in appearance. It was not a topic that was openly discussed, but the presence of the ring on your finger was a constant reminder of what was to come.

You decided, in an attempt to distract yourself, to go for a walk through the town. The fresh morning air embraced you, and although your thoughts were still focused on other thoughts, for a moment you let yourself be carried away by the routine, by the simple pleasure of being alone, breathing the clean air and not having to worry about the awkward conversations that always seemed to haunt you.

The town seemed to be quieter than usual, perhaps because many had stayed home or were busy with their own affairs. The streets were more deserted than usual, which allowed you to enjoy the walk in peace. You walked down the quiet avenues, greeting some neighbors who knew you, without thinking much about your surroundings. The sound of your footsteps on the pavement was the only thing that accompanied you.

But as you turned a corner, you came across a figure that, at first, you couldn't quite recognize. The sun was low, and the dim light cast long shadows, but as soon as you looked up and your eyes met hers, you immediately knew who it was.

Sofia.

The moment was brief. She looked at you with a mix of surprise and something harder to identify, as if she didn't expect to see you there, but also as if she had known that sooner or later you would meet again. You, on the other hand, felt a mix of discomfort and some satisfaction at seeing her. The situation had changed, and you knew that was something that couldn't be ignored.

You both stood still, watching each other for a long minute, without saying a single word. The silence was heavy, the kind of silence that speaks for itself, that says everything without any need for any pronunciation. Sofia seemed to hesitate for a second, as if she didn’t know whether to say hello or continue on her way. Finally, it was she who took the first step, forcing herself to smile with an effort that seemed forced to you.

“Hello,” she finally said, her tone warm but with a slight awkwardness behind it.

“Hello,” you replied, keeping your cool. I didn’t want to seem like the situation affected me more than necessary, although the weight of the conversation that wasn’t being said was on you like a thick layer of snow.

You couldn’t help but let your hand slide, almost involuntarily, towards the engagement ring that sparkled on your finger, just as Sofia looked down. The gesture was subtle, but the way you watched her as you did it made it clear that you didn’t need to talk about what had happened for both of you to know what it meant.

Sofia, noticing the direction of your gaze, tried to smile again, but this time it was more of a nervous movement than a genuine one. A slight blush appeared on her cheeks, and you could see how her eyes filled with discomfort. She knew what the ring meant. She knew what was happening. The silence between the two of you stretched, each of you struggling to find something to say, but neither of you really knowing how to handle the tension that had settled between you.

Finally, Sofia spoke, her voice a little lower, as if she were carefully evaluating her words: “So… you’re engaged, huh?”

Your heart was beating harder than usual, but you managed to stay calm, looking at Sofia with an expression that didn’t give away what you were really thinking. “Yes,” you answered with surprising calm. “Rafe and I are engaged.”

Sofia’s reaction was almost imperceptible, but the change in her expression was evident. Her smile faded a little, and her eyes, although still shining with a layer of confidence, no longer seemed as sure as before. She didn’t say anything else about it. Instead, she took a step back, looking around as if looking for some way to escape the conversation.

The atmosphere between the two of you was filled with that silent awkwardness, a space where words were unnecessary and gestures spoke for themselves. You didn’t know if she was expecting some kind of confrontation, or if she had reached a point where there was nothing left to say. All you knew was that the situation was no longer as it was before, and you were no longer the same person who had once felt insecure or small in front of her. You had changed, and that transformation was evident, even if you didn’t say it out loud.

“Well, I have to go now,” Sofia finally said, in a voice that, while trying to sound casual, was full of tension. “Congratulations,” she added quickly, as if she were looking for an excuse to escape.

You watched as she walked away, her steps quick and determined, without a backward glance. A sigh escaped your lips when you were no longer looking at her, and even though you knew the situation hadn’t been resolved, something inside you felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted. You didn’t need any more explanations, you didn’t want any more confrontations. The ring on your finger and the way she had seen it was enough for you.

You stood there for a moment longer, the fresh air surrounding you, before continuing on your way, with the feeling that, even though things between you and Rafe were still unclear, at least there was no longer room for Sofia’s doubts.

After the unexpected encounter with Sofia, the awkwardness still throbbed in your chest as you walked to Rafe’s house. When you arrived, the house was empty, silent as if it hid secrets within its walls. A sudden impulse led you to search for answers; his phone was there, forgotten on the living room table.

Nervously, you picked up the phone and tried his birthday as the password. It unlocked easily. You scrolled through messages and notifications, hoping to find something that would explain Rafe’s recent distance. To your relief, there was nothing incriminating, just a text from Sofia, unanswered except for a short one from him that said, “I have a new life now.”

You sighed, putting the phone back, feeling guilty for the invasion of his privacy but, at the same time, calm. There was nothing else to see, nothing that could break your already fragile peace of mind. You decided to walk around the house to find any sign of him, but everything was silent. Rafe had left.

You didn’t stay long waiting, you didn’t have time. When you returned home, you were surprised to find your mother waiting in the living room, her elegant figure and imposing presence as if the years of absence had left no trace. She had heard about everything: the engagement and your pregnancy, and although she smiled approvingly, there was a sadness in her eyes.

“Child, I am happy for you, I really am,” she said softly, but her tone changed, “but it hurts me that you didn’t tell me yourself.”

The conversation became tense, and although you wanted to avoid conflict, frustration and resentment built up. For years, you had learned to live without her support, and now her sudden involvement felt almost foreign to you. The words began to flow, first in murmurs and then in a more frank discussion about her absence, about how she was never there when you needed her most.

Your mother nodded, apparently understanding, although pain was reflected in her eyes. Silence settled between you, heavy with the unsaid, the lost years and the opportunities that could no longer be recovered. You left the room leaving her alone, you did not have the energy to continue arguing with her.

She could stay here as long as she wanted but in regards to your life, you would not let her in, you would not give her that privilege again. She left you, very well, now that the consequences are taken care of.

After the tense conversation with your mother, you went up to your room in search of a refuge where you could gather your thoughts. You sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the room you had known all your life, now so full of memories and at the same time so strange. You tried to calm your mind, but it was useless. Emotions crowded one after another.

You lay down on the bed, hoping that fatigue would overcome the whirlwind of ideas, but not a single second of sleep came. The hours slowly slipped by, the sun rose and slanted towards sunset, dyeing the room in orange and gold tones, but your thoughts did not cease for a moment. Reality was overwhelming, and every detail that emerged in your mind made you feel more trapped.

You knew that things with Rafe needed a solution. The conversation about your pregnancy, the uncertainty that floated between you and the weight of doubts were like shadows that did not fade away. And on top of all this was the presence of your mother, someone who had decided to return after years of absence and whose return complicated things around your life.

When the afternoon began to dye the sky a deep grey, you knew you couldn't continue like this. It was time to act, to do something to break this cycle of incessant thoughts and regain, even a little, control of your life.

You grabbed your phone with shaking hands and sent Rafe a short but direct message: “I need to see you.” Rafe’s reply was not long in coming; a simple “Come on over, I’ll be home” appeared on the screen. There were no more words, and with your heart racing, you prepared to go to his house.

The drive there was silent, interrupted only by the pounding of your heart and the crunch of gravel under your feet. When you arrived, the house was calm. The soft lights of dusk filtered through the windows, bathing the walls in a soft gold. You took a moment at the door to breathe deeply and calm yourself before entering.

Rafe was there, standing by a window, watching the horizon with a thoughtful expression that faded when he saw you. His eyes, usually confident and calculating, reflected a mix of emotions that were difficult to decipher. The tension in the air was palpable, but there was also a softness in the way he turned to look at you.

You took a couple of steps towards him, words stuck in your throat, until you finally broke the silence. “Rafe, we need to talk,” you said, your voice sounding firmer than you expected.

He nodded slowly and moved closer, his hands hanging at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. You took a breath and began to speak, your voice breaking at first, but gaining strength with each word.

“Rafe, I want you to know that I love this baby and I love you. I want you to be there, to love him as much as I do. I don’t want fear to drive us further apart.”

Rafe’s expression changed; his eyes darkened for a moment, reflecting a mix of guilt, fear, and something deeper. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you made when he was nervous. “I know I’ve been distant, and I know this hasn’t been easy for you. But… I’m scared,” he confessed, and his eyes searched yours, waiting for a reaction.”

You approached slowly, each step feeling lighter than the last. You raised a hand and placed it on his arm, forcing him to look at you again.

“No one is born knowing how to be a parent, Rafe. We’re going to make mistakes, sure, but you’re not alone. I’ll be here with you, always. We’ll do it together, we’ll learn together. I don’t want you to think you have to be perfect, I just want you to be here and try.”

For a moment, the tension seemed to fade. Rafe closed his eyes and let the words sink in. When he opened them again, there was a different glow, a spark of hope and resolve.

Without warning, he put his arms around you, holding you with a mix of strength and tenderness. You felt all the accumulated weight begin to fade in that contact. No more needed to be said. The reconciliation was not in the words, but in the gesture, in the way his hands trembled as they caressed your back, in how his lips brushed your forehead like a silent promise.

After the reconciliation, you spent the rest of the day at Rafe's house. There was something different about him, a renewed energy and a genuine interest that had only been hinted at in fleeting moments before. As you sat on the couch, the afternoon light illuminated the room. Rafe plopped down beside you, his gaze curious and soft, free of the shadows that used to accompany him.

“Have you been to the doctor yet?” he asked, breaking the silence with a voice that denoted both concern and contained emotion. His eyes searched yours, eagerly awaiting an answer.

You smiled slightly, remembering the visit to the doctor. “Yes, I went a few days ago. Everything is fine, he told me that the baby is healthy and that I should take better care of myself. Eat better, rest more... things I haven't done much of lately.”

Rafe nodded, and for a moment his lips sketched a calm smile. “I'm going to make sure you do. I don't want you or the baby to lack anything.”

The air in the room felt lighter, almost cheerful, as the two of you began to imagine what this new life that awaited them would be like. Rafe, with an unusual sparkle in his eyes, leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Have you thought of names? Because I have a couple in mind, but I don't know if you'll like them.”

You laughed softly, relieved to see him so engaged. "Actually, yes. If it's a girl, I've always liked the name Clara. It's simple, but strong."

Rafe nodded in approval, repeating the name as if to test how it sounded in his voice. "Clara... I like it. But if it's a boy, I have one in mind: Luca. What do you think?"

A smile formed on your face at the name. "Luca... yeah, I like it. He's got strength. But, to be honest, I hope it's a boy. I've always imagined having a boy, someone to teach all the things I love."

Rafe looked at you tenderly, his hand reaching for yours and interlacing your fingers. "Whatever it is, I don't care. I just want him to be healthy and have your smile," he said in a firm and serene voice.

That simple comment made you feel an indescribable warmth in your chest. "He's going to be spoiled, you know that, right?" you commented in a playful tone, trying to lighten the conversation.

"Oh, I know," Rafe replied, laughing. "He's going to be the most spoiled child in the world, and you'll be the first to spoil him."

You burst out laughing, and looked at Rafe with a mix of love and determination. "And I wouldn't mind one bit," you added, as you moved closer to him and placed his hand on your belly, a gesture that seemed tender to you.

The days passed more peacefully than you had imagined. Tensions had calmed down, and you and Rafe were better now, and you were even going to move into his house. Sofia appeared from time to time, but her presence was no longer a concern for you; you had confirmed that Rafe had completely eliminated her from his life. That security gave you the peace you needed to move forward with your head held high.

In those days, it was decided to organize a family dinner at your father's house. The event was more than a simple meeting; it was a celebration of your engagement to Rafe and the arrival of the baby.

You invited Sarah and John B, knowing that their presence would make the evening even more special. You had noticed a change in Sarah since you shared about your pregnancies, and you felt a growing connection between the two of you. You wanted to reflect that new union, so you decided to prepare a gift for her, something small but meaningful.

That day the house was decorated with warm lights that illuminated the night, and the tables were adorned with simple but elegant arrangements. The aroma of freshly cooked food mingled with the breeze coming through the open windows. Guests arrived slowly, filling the place with laughter and lively conversation. Rafe stood by your side, attentive. The atmosphere was light, but there was a feeling in the air that everything was changing, that they were entering a different and exciting phase.

When Sarah and John B arrived, their smiles and welcoming words broke any hint of tension. You watched as Sarah instinctively caressed her belly, and a warm feeling ran through you at the thought that one day their child would play together.

As the hours passed, the evening exceeded all your expectations. The house, filled with light and laughter, reflected the life you had longed for. You felt safe and at peace, as if everything was finally falling into place. Throughout the evening, you saw Rafe interact with your family and guests. His eyes met yours from time to time, and in those moments you shared glances that said more than a thousand words: you were in this together, and that was the most important thing.

The conversations flowed naturally, sprinkled with anecdotes and comments that elicited laughter and smiles. Sarah and John B seemed more relaxed than you had seen in a long time, and you liked that, they too needed a moment of peace after everything they had been through.

Everything you had ever dreamed of was beginning to materialize before your eyes.

As the night progressed and soft music accompanied the voices that were held in quieter conversations, you felt Rafe's hand take yours under the table. It was his way of reminding you that you were where you belonged, and that, no matter what, they would be together. The evening, in your opinion, was perfect; a silent promise of what was to come.

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girlkisser13 · 7 months ago

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being married to agatha harkness would include

• as a witch who has been around for hundreds of years, she has an odd fascination with ordinary beings, cherishing the small moments— like the two of you making dinner together or enjoying a night out.

• the two of you live in a small cottage, but have a MASSIVE garden.

• she’s always picking up new plants and seeds and helping you plant them.

• agatha's sharp wit would keep things lively. you’d enjoy playful banter, with inside jokes and teasing that reflect her strong personality and sense of humor.

• she doesn’t really own a lot of clothes, preferring to wear one outfit for a thousand years before switching to another. however, she knows many intricate hairstyles that she loves to try out on you.

• as a result, your hair always looks great.

• agatha would enjoy winding down with you through relaxing rituals, like candle-lit baths infused with herbs or stargazing while discussing the universe's secrets.

• she’d always have your back, encouraging you to embrace your own power and creativity, whether that’s through magic or other passions.

• you might find yourselves going on time-traveling escapades, experiencing different eras and cultures while navigating the complexities of history.

• your home would be filled with magical artifacts, quirky decor, and plenty of enchanted plants, creating a cozy yet mysterious atmosphere.

• agatha’s adventurous spirit would lead to spontaneous trips to magical realms or historical events, where you’d learn firsthand about magic’s influence throughout time.

• you’d have a vast library filled with rare books and scrolls, where you both spend hours lost in stories, research, or planning your next magical venture.

• it’s adorable how seriously she takes the study and craft of magic, yet she often uses her powers for the most mundane things— like getting your attention or playfully teasing you.

• agatha completely dotes on you; anything you desire, she’ll find a way to make it happen.

• when you’re having a bad day, she stops everything to ensure you’re okay, often bringing you tea and settling in for a cozy movie night on the couch until you drift off to sleep.

• she’s promised never to use her powers on you without your consent, and while it’s tough for her to see you upset, she sticks to her word and supports you in ordinary, non-magical ways.

• the two share SOO many baths together !!

• the moment you enter the bathroom, agatha's beautiful laughter fills the air, and before you can even undress, she pulls you into the warm bubble bath beside her.

• the scent of lavender envelops you as you splutter from the water, and her hands pull you close, cradling you against her chest.

• she loves to playfully pretend to trip just so you’ll rush over to catch her, relishing the flustered look on your face. but you find ways to get back at her, too.

• when you call her your wife, you can’t help but notice the deep blush spreading across her face. even after all this time, that one word makes her heart flutter.

• she LOVES cuddling with you, wrapping a leg around your waist to pin you down, making it impossible to escape her warmth. soft whines escape her lips as you wiggle around, but once you flip over to face her, you press a gentle kiss against her mouth until her breathing settles.

• she loves to run her fingers through your hair, always finding ways to be physically affectionate.

• if you’re around, she can’t help but touch you— whether it’s holding your hand, resting a hand on your waist, or giving you hugs.

• the moment you see her, you instinctively reach for her, and she always blushes when you initiate contact.

• after facing the heartbreak and loneliness from her mother, it comforts her to know that some invisible string ties her soul to yours. no matter what happens or where she goes in this strange world, a part of her will always find its way back to you. <33

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changbunnies · 11 months ago

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Slow Bloom (18+)

♡ Pairing: Inexperienced!Changbin x Experienced Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: fluff and smut with a lil plot <3 a tiny bit of angst during the build up but it doesn't last long at all!

♡ Word Count: 8.5k

♡ Summary: In which a misunderstanding while cuddling leads to discovering exactly how Changbin feels about you.

♡ Smut Warnings: not intended to have overt dom/sub dynamics but i may have written bin a bit subby lol oops, references to porn watching, kinda pervy bin?, his lack of experience is not outright stated to the reader as it is implied that they already know, nipple play, thigh grinding / humping, fingering (f rec), protected piv

♡ Notes: so quite a few ppl showed interest in an inexperienced binnie fic after i posted my inexperienced chan fic and i am here to deliver <3 this was also the perfect break from the longer, more plot heavy fics i've been working on as this took a lot less mental effort :') i hope you enjoy this while waiting for those!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

There aren't many things in life that make Changbin nervous.

He navigates the world with security and confidence, sure of himself and in the actions he takes. He can speak in tense or awkward situations with relative ease, nerves never eat him up in social settings, and he's never afraid to speak his mind or do what he wishes to.

But then there's you. You, while laying in bed next to him with an arm draped over his body and one of your legs tucked between his, make him extremely, effortlessly nervous.

It wasn't always this way; at least, not as far as he can remember. You've been friends since forever, and closeness such as this is par for the course. He's used to impromptu sleepovers, to you making yourself comfy in his space, tossing your belongings to the floor without a care before you take over his bed.

He's used to cuddling while watching tv, to squeezing each other into tight hugs, to limbs tangled under blankets. He's used to the lingering smell of your shampoo mixed with perfume, used to the feeling of your breath tickling his skin when you pull him close, to the feeling of your soft skin beneath his fingertips.

He's used to it, and it doesn't affect him; or so he thought.

Somewhere along the line, something within him shifted. Whether the reason lies with you or with himself, he doesn't entirely know. What he does know is that he no longer sees you the same way he did when you were growing up together. And it wasn't until that shift occurred that he realized maybe "your friend" isn't the only thing he wants to be.

Maybe it's a natural, gradual progression from where you both began, a shift in desire brought on by new maturity and life experience. Maybe you've been this radiant and beautiful since the very first day you met, but he was too young and oblivious to realize it then.

Maybe it's because of that strange, sharp and twisting feeling in his gut every time he sees you with a new partner. If it wasn't for you showing interest in other people, would he have ever realized at all that what he feels for you transcends what he feels in his other friendships?

While he loves his other friends, he doesn't get jealous when they bring a new partner around, or talk about their love life to him. He doesn't spend every night lying awake thinking about them, nor does he wonder what it'd be like to kiss them. He doesn't dream about seeing their bare skin, or about touching them, about them touching him.

He doesn't imagine their tongue lavishing over him, or of returning the favor to them. He doesn't fantasize about them in dirty, naughty scenarios, during his private moments in bed or in the shower. You occupy his every thought, to the point that even while watching porn he has to close his eyes and imagine it's you making those sounds instead, replacing the scene before him with a mental image of you and him together.

That's what makes Changbin especially nervous right now. You're cuddled up to him, as you always are when you spend the night at his place, but he can't get his brain to please shut the fuck up and stop pushing him to the brink of embarrassing himself.

He needs to stop thinking about the placement of your hand on his stomach, just above his waistband. He can't linger on the fact that your tits are pressed against him while you hug him, or about how pleasant the soft, content sighs that leave you sound to his ears.

If he thinks about any of it, he'll get hard– and that'll easily be the most mortifying moment of his life, because you would definitely notice with the way your leg is snaked between his and resting between his thighs. It's moments like this when he misses the days of innocence– when cuddling with you like this didn't feel quite so intimate.

He makes a conscious effort to focus harder on the tv in front of you both, playing some sitcom he has long since stopped paying attention to. He guesses the jokes are landing if your occasional giggles are any sign, but if you asked his opinion on anything going on he wouldn't be able to answer. Changbin has never been the type of person who was easily able to divide his attention, but God, does he fucking try.

Because if you realize he's getting hard, and you feel it, there are very few scenarios he can imagine where you're okay with it. And if you decide to question him on it, he'd be done for– because there's no way he'd be able to outright deny his attraction to you. Playing it off would feel too much like lying, and this is not the kind of scenario he imagines when he thinks about the way he'll admit his feelings to you.

You've noticed since the beginning that his body has been tense; you've been cuddling since you were young, and you're more than familiar with how he feels when he's relaxed. It's almost amazing how someone so muscular can still feel so soft when their body is at rest– and right now you can't help but notice that he feels very far from soft.

You tried to ignore it and focus on the show you're watching, and it worked for some time, but the longer he stays tense the more you can't help but wonder if you've been bothering him lately. It's become a growing pattern– you touch Changbin, in some ways small and menial like a passing tap to his arm as you slip past him in the kitchen, or large, in which you hug him tight and envelop him with your entire body.

Either way, the reaction is the same; he instantly tenses. You're not sure if he intends to do so, or if it's an unconscious reaction he doesn't even realize he's doing, but it hasn't gone unnoticed by you. The two of you have always been a match when it comes to being clingy and affectionate, but maybe that isn't the kind of attention he wants to get from you anymore.

Are you being overbearing? Did you unintentionally do something wrong? Maybe he wants to distance himself from you but is just either too nice or too scared to say it out loud and hurt your feelings.

When you tilt your head to look at him, his cheeks are pinker than they were just moments ago, with his gaze fixed solely on the tv. You're sure he can feel you looking at him, but he doesn't turn his head to meet your eyes. You want to believe he's just really engrossed in the show, but you can't help but doubt it. You know him, and you're certain that for whatever reason, he's avoiding your gaze.

"Am I bothering you?" you ask abruptly, and perhaps a bit more vulnerable than you would've liked. Not that you can help it, really; you just really care about Changbin, and you can't stand not knowing if you've done something to upset him or make him want to separate himself from you. You have to know, because you can't stand it any longer.

"What? No, I– what?" Changbin finally looks at you, furrowed brows peeking out between strands of his long, messy curls. You didn't expect him to be so surprised by your question; admittedly, it is sudden, but this has been building for weeks hasn't it? You thought he'd be relieved that you're bringing it up first so that he doesn't have to.

You've never been happier to be wrong, or to see such genuine confusion on his face. Thank God. "Sorry, I just.. You've been acting different lately, and I thought that maybe it was because I did something wrong," you explain, following it with a small, awkward laugh.

Really, you're relieved; at the same time however, you do feel a bit embarrassed and silly to have been questioning what's been happening with him now that he's so clearly taken aback. You jumped to conclusions and got a bit ahead of yourself, it’s true– but.. If that’s not it, then what is it?

Surely there’s a reason– his behavior wouldn’t have changed if everything is really the same as it's always been. If nothing's wrong, why does he tense up every time you try to act affectionate with him? Why does he hesitate to meet your gaze when he never had a problem doing so before? Why does it always feel like he's putting distance between you?

Changbin swallows, you notice– a nervous response that you guess is from putting him on the spot. Because if it's not what you've been thinking, you need to be provided with another explanation– an explanation that only he can offer you. He needs to clear up this misunderstanding if he doesn't want you to wrongfully think you've done wrong by him, but what can he say that also omits the truth he isn't ready to admit?

His cheeks grow pinker, and you can tell he's struggling to find words– something you'd typically never expect to see in your charismatic best friend. You've untangled yourself from him enough to lift yourself up, weight propped up by your elbow while you look directly in his eyes. He's slightly beneath you at this angle, eyes having to travel up to meet your own, and again he swallows.

He's so fucked. There's nothing he can say right now other than "I really fucking like you and being this close to you all the time is making me crazy."

But he can't actually say that. Changbin wants his confession to come with a grand, romantic gesture. He wants to say the sweetest, more perfect words he can come up with. He wants to be a man of action, someone as cool as they are sincere, someone who can make you swoon with suave, but genuine effort. Admitting his feelings to you now, like this, would be the furthest thing from charming, or cool, or perfect.

As if all of that wasn't enough, now he has to make a conscious effort to not let his eyes wander down to look at your chest– because he's been chubbing up since the moment you started cuddling, and if he catches a glimpse of your cleavage now, he's done for. It feels vaguely pathetic to be this affected by you when you don't even realize you're doing it to him.

Changbin's eyes act against the purposeful efforts of his brain and travel to your chest, met overtly with the sight of your breasts pressed together. Fuck. He looks back up to your face quickly, hoping you haven't noticed where his eyes wandered. He wishes he could reach between your bodies and discreetly adjust his pants to hide his growing erection, but he can't, and God help him, you're going to notice any second now.

And you're looking at him so sweetly and earnestly, patient and caring, totally unaware of what you're doing to him and what his actual struggle is. He wants to clear everything up, doesn't want you to feel like the fault of what he's going through lies with you, he wants to answer every question you have, he really does– but he's found himself in a vicious cycle.

Trying not to think about the position you're both in, of how pretty you are looking down at him, or of your chest that he can't seem to ignore despite how badly he needs to focus on anything else just makes him dwell on it even more. The more he tries not to, the more space it takes up in his mind, until it's entirely clouded, preventing him from conjuring a thought worthy of being spoken to you.

Fuck thinking of an excuse or explanation, he can't think of anything other than your tits being so close to his face. He wants nothing more than to kiss them, to feel your fingers running through his hair as he sticks his tongue out to lick your nipples, has thought about squeezing them between his palms so many times.

So can he offer you a reasonable enough excuse that hides the truth of the matter? Absolutely fucking not– not when all he can think about is how you'd feel and taste. "Changbin?" your questioning voice snaps him out of it, looking up at you like a deer caught in headlights behind his thick rimmed glasses.

He looks guilty, face entirely flushed red all the way to the tips of his ears. And you're convinced now that he was trying to spare your feelings, and was stuck on finding the right way to break it to you. He didn't know what to say, and was trying so desperately to think of something that wouldn't crush you.

He can see the hurt wash over you, and he opens his mouth, ready to blurt out anything in a futile attempt at damage control, but you're already speaking before he even gets the chance to try. "You don't have to spare my feelings, you can be honest, just tell me–" you say as you start to push yourself away from him, very clearly misunderstanding the situation that's been unfolding.

Before he can even begin to figure out if he should be relieved or devastated by your incorrect assumptions hiding what he feels, the process of moving your leg from between his causes him to let out a gasp that takes you both by surprise. You feel it– his semi-hard erection brushes against your leg as you attempt to move it out from between his thighs.

"Oh," is suddenly all you can manage to say. Is Changbin attracted to you..? Is that why for months he's slowly but surely become so different in your presence? When you look back to him, he's covered his face with his hands over his glasses, his pouty bottom lip quivering in what you can only assume to be mortification over his body betraying him.

The question now is, is this simply a physical reaction to being close or something more than that? Would it happen to him no matter who was pressed against him, or is it you in particular that causes his body to react this way? You won't know until he tells you, but you hope more than anything he wants you as much as you've always wanted him.

The idea that he may view you romantically is not something you ever allowed yourself to consider a possibility, but oh, how you've wanted it. Changbin has always been perfect to you; a gentleman in all aspects, attentive, considerate, thoughtful, your very best friend. You always thought you'd be lucky if someone like him were to love you, and you always held your partners to the standard he showed you.

You thought that even if you couldn't have Changbin, you could at least have someone like him; and while no one ever made you feel the way he does, disappointing you in one way or another, you still tried. Perhaps it was unfair, as no one can compare to Changbin, but if he wants you then you'll take him in a heartbeat, no questions asked. Even when it wasn't entirely conscious to you, your heart has always belonged to him.

He flinches when you call his name again; your tone is soft, but he's still afraid to meet your gaze and discover what kind of expression is on your face. He thinks he'll die if he sees anything even remotely resembling disgust or anger. He cares about you so much, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if you lost your trust in him because of this.

You reach for his hands, and despite his nerves threatening to eat him alive for perhaps the first time in his life, he lets you take his hands away from his face. The apprehension in his eyes is clear, though there's a flash of relief when he can see that you're not upset with him. "I'm sorry, really," he blurts out quickly, feeling like he should apologize even if you aren't going to chastise him for getting hard simply from being close to you.

“Does this happen a lot when we..?” you ask, watching as his blush spreads down his neck while he hesitantly nods. You’ve never seen him so red and shy before– and honestly, you like it. You’ve always considered Changbin to be cute, but this is cute on an entirely different level; you hope this won’t be the only time you get to see him this way. But before that can happen, you have a more pressing question to ask him.

"Do you want me to help you?" is the next question to leave you, and fucking hell, does that send him reeling. He can’t believe this is really happening, that you’re even asking him so casually. And while it isn’t the way he pictured something happening between you after his many months of pining, he could never say no to you– he's been obsessively thinking about you all this time, how could he say anything but yes?

Still, he hesitates regardless; not because he's unsure about continuing, or because he doesn't want to, but because what if it means different things for the two of you? For Changbin, it'd be everything. You're the only person he's ever liked this much, he might even be in love with you, and he doesn't think he'd be able to recover from having a casual fling with you. He'd never be able to go back to before and pretend he doesn't feel as much for you as he does.

"If you say no, we can pretend this never happened," you assure him when you see the nervous hesitance in his eyes. It's not what you'd want to hear, but he deserves to be offered an out if he needs it; because as much as you want him, you don't want him to feel stuck and uncomfortable. And then you continue, hoping more than anything that he shares the sentiment of your next words, "But I think you should know, I really like you, Binnie. And I'll be really happy if you say yes."

With your admission, all his doubts and fears are cleared in an instant. Really, that's all he needed to hear to be sure what he plans to say next is the right thing to say to you. It's not how he ever intended to ask you this question, but he’d never dream of passing up the opportunity presented to him– the opportunity to be yours, and for you to be his in turn. "If I say yes, will you be my girlfriend?"

He’s smiling, sweet and cute as he asks, and it makes you smile too– because this is much more like the Changbin you know and love. He giggles when you accept, and as the word "boyfriend" leaves you in reference to him, absolutely giddy to finally be yours. Maybe this is better than the way he always pictured it would happen; because this is more organically you, what is more natural to your dynamic and the care you have for each other.

Leaning down, you softly press your lips to his, and even just a gesture so small is enough to spread goosebumps over his skin. It's so soft, slow, every sensation lingering even as you pull away to take a breath before kissing him again. No kiss he's ever had before compares to how it feels to kiss you; he doesn't think he's ever felt as positively electric as he does right now.

Is it normal for every touch of your lips to make him tremble so much? And his heart is already beating so fast, thumping loudly against his chest with each additional kiss and tracing touch of your fingers over his body. Down his arms, over his chest, underneath his shirt and across his stomach– all of it adds to the sparks in his veins.

His hands explore you too– eager, and a bit clumsy, but you find his enthusiasm infectious. He's so perfectly warm and soft, and you can't resist the urge to squeeze him in your hands– his soft tummy, his love handles, his defined pecs; you squeeze everywhere your hands can reach. Changbin lets out a soft, surprised squeak the first time, but he quickly grows used to it, and finds himself mimicking the way you touch him.

He starts with the leg not tucked between his thighs, hand trailing up and down the length of it before he squeezes. Then he moves on to your hips before traveling to your backside, then your waist, and finally your breasts. Even just feeling them over your clothes excites him beyond words, eager and happy to be touching you like he's dreamed of so many times before.

He likes the pleased hums and sighs you let out almost more than he likes the act of squeezing you in his palms, each sound just as pretty and soft as you are. He shivers when he feels your tongue swipe across his bottom lip, and he eagerly parts his lips for you. Your tongue slipping inside his mouth and swirling around his own makes him practically vibrate with desire for more.

Changbin follows you when you start to pull away from the kiss, eyes remaining closed for several seconds before he finally opens them to look at you. His pretty lips, still wet and parted, turn into a pout when you've gone further than he can still reach. His pout vanishes, however, when you start to pull up your shirt, and it makes you giggle; he really is just so cute.

You weren't wearing a bra beneath your shirt– you never do when you're relaxing before going to bed, even at Changbin's place. You always felt comfortable enough around him that you didn't feel like you had to sacrifice your comfort during your sleepovers, assured in the fact that he'd always be respectful towards you even if he happened to notice.

And while you're comfortable and confident, there's still a certain tinge of nervousness that bubbles up in the back of your mind that comes from being exposed to his eyes now. Tits are pretty– doesn't matter who they're on, or what shape they're in, they always look good; but it's almost funny how simply showing them to the person you like so much makes you nervous regardless of this fact.

You're not ashamed to say you've slept with a lot of people, and that a majority of said people have seen you completely bare– but there's none you've ever liked quite as much or in the same way that you like Changbin. It makes it more intimate somehow, so real, and you suppose that's the part that makes you nervous.

But oh, how his gaze fills your stomach with butterflies– because you don't think anyone's ever looked at you the way he is right now, with eyes sparkling in awe as he takes the sight of you in. He looks at you with pure wonder and adoration, in a way that is as sweet as it is full of lust and desire.

In his eyes, you may as well be one of the 7 wonders of the world– something worthy of reverence and worship. He'd do it if you'd let him– worship you until the sky itself falls and everything around the two of you crumbles. He'll show you in any way he can, with every kiss and every touch, that you always have been and always will be the only one for him.

"Can– Can I touch them? Please?" he asks, polite, sweet, and full of hope that you won't deny him. It's a little funny, considering how just moments ago he was touching you all over– but it's sweet too, how considerate he's trying to be now that you're bare before him despite how eager and worked up he is.

And really, you'd never dream of denying him anything– but you do have a request of your own to make too. "If you take your shirt off for me first," you tell him, fingers ghosting over his torso, "I want to touch you too, want to see every inch of you."

"Oh," he blinks, his cock that has been semi-hard for the better part of an hour stiffening more as it twitches in response to your words. "Yeah– yeah, of course, want you to touch me too," he finally breathes, wasting no time in lifting his back off the bed to pull his shirt up and over his head.

You giggle at the urgency in which he gets his shirt off, and he smiles back at you when he falls back against the bed. He knows he's eager and excitable, and he has no shame in showing it– he's wanted you way too much and for way too long to act like this is just a typical Saturday night for him.

Even if he makes a fool of himself, he'll be happy and it'll be worth it– because it's you he's doing it for, doing it with, and that's all he's ever needed. "You're so cute, Binnie," you tell him, and he smiles brighter, cutely scrunching his nose that way you love so much, and does whenever he's truly happy.

His hands reach for you first, cupping your breasts with an adorable pout of concentration and determination on his face. He's careful with his squeezes, well aware of how strong his grip can be and not wanting at all to hurt you. He rubs over your nipples with his thumbs, and then between his fingers, licking his lips as he watches them get hard enough to gently roll them.

He looks to you for approval, blinking up at you with hope for praise and affirmation that you like it, that he's doing it right. It makes you want to coo at him– but you resist, and simply reach your hand to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb as you instruct him to keep going. He all but melts into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm and closing his eyes for just a moment to relish in it before he continues.

Changbin sticks his tongue out next, watching you carefully as he brings it to one of your pebbled nipples. You meet him halfway so he doesn't have to strain his neck from lifting it off the pillow, leaning closer to his face as you move your hand to thread your fingers through his curls.

His eyes stay on you as he alternates between where he licks, one of his hands always playing with the nipple that his mouth isn't giving attention to. The moan you let out when he sucks one into his mouth makes his cock throb, and truly, he's never felt as blessed as he does right now, with one of his many fantasies finally becoming a reality.

Still, he's thirsty for more– he wants to feel you everywhere, to hear your pretty voice sing him praises, to become so absorbed in each other's pleasure that everything else in the world fall away. He wants to envelop you with his body, he wants your touch to consume him, he wants you to both be equally messy and dirty and engrossed in bliss.

"Touch me now, please, anywhere, want you to," he pleads after releasing your nipple from his mouth with a small pop. His face is flushed the prettiest shade of pink, dark eyes soft and pleading behind his glasses, lips wet and hair a mess– you don't think you've ever seen anything more perfect and alluring than this.

It makes you want to dote on him, and you'll do just that– especially if it's something he wants as badly as you. "Anything for you," you oblige, giving him a quick, sweet peck to the top of his head before your hands are once again traveling over his body. You scoot down just enough to be able to reach his neck, pressing kisses beneath his ear before trailing them down.

Changbin intended to keep playing with your chest as you touched him, but he quickly loses focus, sucking in a breath and eyes fluttering closed as your tongue presses against his sweet spot. It's almost overwhelming for him– your hands squeezing the thick muscle of his arms and pecs while you tongue dotes on him, body squirming when your teeth lightly graze over the sensitive skin near his pulse point.

Similar to when you first squeezed him in your hands earlier, another squeak of surprise escapes him when you brush your thumbs over his exposed nipples– you guess no one's ever done that to him before. You hesitate a moment before repeating the action, wanting first to make sure it's something he's open to experiencing again. He's biting his lip and looking at you not with apprehension like you half expected to see, but curiosity and excitement.

So you do it again, and he gasps, back arching off the bed as his teeth sink further into his bottom lip. Fuck, he never thought he'd be so sensitive there– and he whines from deep in his throat when you comment on it. "You're so sensitive, Bin," you whisper in near awe, and he's half tempted to cover his mouth with his hand to suppress the moan you threaten to bring out of him with your soft fingers.

His cock is the hardest he thinks it's possibly ever been. You can feel it prodding against your thigh, and poor Changbin, he's so worked up and eager for stimulation that he can't help but grind it against you as you continue to rub his nipples between your fingers. In a different scenario, it'd be the bed or his own hand he'd be helplessly rutting against– but your thigh is all he has access to.

It makes him feel positively dirty, naughty, but he can't stop– even when the friction from the fabric of his clothes overwhelms him, his hips don't stop moving against you. You look down between your bodies, watch the wet patch on his pants grow as he continues to rut against your thigh.

You want to take one of his nipples into your mouth, but you don't want him to lose the friction against you– so you bend carefully, conscious of keeping your leg pressed against him between his thighs as you wrap your lips around the nipple easiest for you to reach. He whimpers– a high pitched sound you never expected to hear from him as you swirl your tongue around his hardened nipple.

"Fuck, oh fuck, oh my god–" Changbin whines, bringing up his hands to once again cover his heated face. It's so embarrassing– how good it feels, how loud he's being, how he just can't seem to stop himself from seeking the delicious friction your thigh provides him. Overwhelming too, how close he is to cumming already, his body taut and high strung.

His hips begin to stutter, sweat steadily building on his brow, his stomach clenching as he tries his best to hold back the inevitable. "Are you close, Binnie? Gonna cum just like this?" you release his nipple from your mouth to ask him sweetly. Against your expectations, he quickly shakes his head– as if fighting against himself before he lowers his hands and looks at you with glassy eyes.

"Don't– don't want to," he tells you after another obscene whine, "wanna fuck you first, don't wanna cum until I fuck you." The way he looks at you as he says it makes your heart jolt and stomach twist. Messy hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, pouty bottom lip swollen and red, eyes pleading and desperate.

God, he's fucking cute– positively delectable. You'll have to save eating him for next time, though; right now, you just want to give him everything he asks for. "You want to fuck me?" you ask him, reaching your hand down to dip under the waistband of his pants and underwear. It's sticky and wet, pre-cum smeared all over the inside of the fabric.

He keens, nodding eagerly as he squirms beneath the touch of your soft, warm hand. It's such a contrast from the prior sensation, but just as equally overwhelming. You stroke him slowly; just enough to keep him worked up, but not enough to make him cum. His eyes are fluttering closed, hands twisting the sheets beneath him, hips jolting up to meet your strokes.

"You're so thick, Binnie," you tell him, and he throbs from the compliment, whining almost helplessly. It's true too– you're not just saying it to make him feel good. It's not the longest you've ever held, but it's definitely the thickest– you can't even wrap your hand entirely around it. "Think you can help me get ready to take it?" you ask, needing to suppress the urge to giggle when he enthusiastically nods.

"Anything! I'll do anything for you, anything you need," he babbles, and you thank him with a sweet kiss that he happily returns. He whines when you stop touching him and pry yourself away, hips chasing your touch even though he's the one who wanted you to stop– his body just can't help it.

He watches breathlessly as you stand from the bed, sliding your thumbs into the waistband of your pajamas and slowly pulling them down along with your panties. He decides to follow your lead, scrambling to lift himself from the bed and pull the rest of his clothes off in one quick motion.

Both bare, you take a moment to stare at one another. You get a better view of Changbin's drooling cock, while he finally gets a glimpse at your pussy– and fuck, is it the prettiest thing he's ever seen. How did he get so fucking lucky?

You come back to the bed, and instead of letting you crawl back on top of him, Changbin gently guides you to the side of him and onto your back. You spread your legs for him once you're comfortable, and he props himself up on his elbow, looking down at your body, so gorgeous and perfect.

He isn't well practiced, so he mimics the actions taken in one of his favorite, more intimate porn videos. He starts with kissing you, slow but messy, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. His hand travels down the length of your torso, and he can't help but gasp and break away from the kiss when he reaches your core, and your arousal coats his fingers.

"Oh my god, do you– do you always get this wet?" he asks, almost mesmerized by how effortlessly his fingers glide between your folds. "Only for you," you answer; you don't know if he believes it, but it's true. The only other times you've ever gotten this soaked were in the privacy of your bedroom, when you touched yourself with Changbin's image at the forefront of your imagination.

He continues to rub his fingers up and down between your folds until his fingers are completely coated, and only then does he finally ask, "Can I.. is- is it okay to put my fingers inside?" He blushes when you smile at him and nod, spreading your legs further apart while telling him exactly what he wants to hear. "Yeah, please, I want you to."

He presses the tips of his fingers to your hole before he slowly pushes one inside, watching in breathlessly awe as it disappears inside your warm, wet heat. You're so slick that it slides in and out easily, and soon enough you're instructing him to add another, and then one more, to which he easily obliges.

He can't decide where he wants to look more; between your legs, where his fingers thrust steadily in and out of you, or to your face, beautifully contorted in pleasure– so he ends up alternating between both. "Is this– is it good for you?" he asks the next time he looks at your face, desperate to perform well for you.

If there's anything he can do better, anything he needs to do differently, he needs to know– he'll follow any instruction you give him in a heartbeat. "Your fingers– when they're all the way inside, can you curl them for me, please?" you ask, and he's immediately doing exactly as you tell him, curling his fingers right against your sweet spot.

"Like this?" he asks, sliding his fingers out and quickly pushing them back inside, curling them to hit your spot, and then pulling them back out to repeat the motion. You let out whines and breathless moans, voice quickly growing shakier and shakier as you try to keep talking him through it.

"Y-Yeah, just like that, keep– keep going just like that," you tell him, voice unsteady between your whimpers and moans, but it's easily the prettiest sounds Changbin's ever heard– he just knows he'll become addicted to them.

He's addicted to everything about you, really– all of it is so captivating. The sounds you cry out, as well as the ones coming from between your legs as his fingers thrust in and out of you. He's mesmerized by how your thighs tremble and twitch when he picks up his pace, by the rapid rise and fall of your chest, by the way your eyes roll back as he drives you closer to sweet release.

"Bin, Binnie– 'm so close, just need– need a little more," you tell him between quick, shaky breaths. "Tell me," Changbin requests, slowing down the motion of his fingers just enough for you to be able to speak with more ease, "tell me what you need."

"Here, touch me here," you instruct, reaching your hand down to point him to your puffy, neglected clit. "With your thumb," you add after you show him, and he nods, pressing his thumb to your clit as he resumes the previous, quick motion of his fingers inside you.

He can feel you clench tighter around his fingers, while the sounds that escape you soon pick up in volume. Your thighs squeeze together and limit the motion of his hand, so he sticks to simply curling his fingers while rubbing your clit with his thumb. It only takes a few more strokes of his thumb to have your back arching off the bed, his name coming out in a choked sob.

Changbin doesn't slip his fingers out of you right away, instead keeping them inside until your breathing starts to steady and your thighs relax. "Was it.. did I do okay?" he asks after you've caught your breath, and God, the way you smile at him– he's sure he's never seen anything more radiant.

"You were perfect," you answer, leaning up to wrap your arms around him and pull him into a kiss. "So perfect, felt so good," you continue between pressing kisses to his lips, "want you now." A shiver is sent straight down his spine; is this finally, really going to happen after so many nights spent hoping for it? “Do you have protection?” you ask after pulling away, and he pouts as he considers it.

He did have some, but.. how long has it been since the last time he had sex? He’s not confident he even remembers where he put them last; it hasn’t really been something pressing on his mind considering he discovered casual flings weren’t really his thing, and he thought the only person he wanted to have sex with, you, was unavailable.

“Uh, I think so! ..maybe?” he mumbles as he crawls over to his nightstand and starts haphazardly shoving things aside while searching through it. You giggle as you sit up and crawl over yourself, deciding to help him look for one in his messy drawer. “Ah, there’s one!” you point to where you see the corner of a packet sticking out from under the book you’re pretty sure he’s been reading on and off for like, 6 months now.

“Thank God,” you hear him mutter under his breath as he lifts the book up to grab it, and you giggle again; you don’t think there’ll ever be a time you don’t find him endlessly adorable. It wouldn't have been a big deal if he didn’t have one, of course, as you usually carried around spares in your bag, but there was something really endearing about his urgency to find one.

He’s pretty sure that the condoms expiration date hasn’t passed, but he still checks first regardless– better to be safe than sorry, and all. “All good?” you ask as you watch him check it over, and smile when he crawls back to you and plants a giddy kiss to your lips.

“Yep! All good,” he smiles, settling himself between your legs after you rest back against the bed. He’s honestly pretty nervous, but his joy to be with someone he loves so much does wonders for distracting his brain from the fear of not performing to some imaginary standard of perfection in bed.

Changbin stops when it’s time to open the condom, staring at it for a moment as if considering what to do. You’re about to ask him if he needs help, but he ends up speaking again before you can. “Uh, I know tearing it open with my teeth is sexy or whatever, but I think I’d fuck it up so I’m not gonna do that,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. Your silly boy.

“Don’t worry, you’re already plenty sexy without doing stuff like that,” you tell him. “Am I?” he asks, another cute smile spreading on his lips when you nod, and confirm that he’s very sexy. Cute too, you tell him, easily the cutest person in the whole world. And his eyes crinkle and nose scrunches in the way you love again as he giggles.

What amazing duality your boyfriend has; so strong and intimidating in physique, but with the softest, sweetest personality you’ve ever known anyone to have. He’s so perfect.

He rips open the packet with his hands, and the condom slips from his fingers when he first pulls it out, but he thankfully manages to catch it before it falls on you, or the bed. "My bad," he says with a shy, slightly awkward laugh; maybe he's more nervous than he initially thought.

He's suddenly extremely conscious of how fast his heart is beating, and of the tremble in his hands. "Want me to help?" you ask, smiling at him sweetly when he timidly nods. "Ah, yeah, if you don't mind," he mutters, and you quickly sit back up, placing your hands over his.

"Keep this one here," you instruct as you bring his hand to the base of his cock to hold in place and keep still. "And then we're gonna roll it down, like this," you guide the hand holding the condom to the tip of his cock, helping him spread it smoothly down his length with your fingers atop his.

If it were anyone else, he might feel embarrassed or a little ashamed over needing help, and for needing to be guided like this with something he feels most guys his age already have perfected. But with you, it just feels sweet and intimate; he can tell there's no judgment, and you're not going to make fun of him for not quite knowing how best to do things.

He's safe with you. And he's glad that out of all the billions of people in the world that he could've met, befriended, and then fallen in love with, that it was you.

You lay back against the bed after Changbin thanks you for your help with a kiss, but you notice he still looks nervous, so you hold up your hand to offer it to him. He smiles as he takes it in his, and you give him a reassuring squeeze after he intertwines his fingers with yours. He uses his other hand to align himself with your hole, and takes a breath before starting to finally push himself inside.

You both squeeze each other’s hand; Changbin because fuck, it already feels so good even with just the tip inside, and you because even with 3 of his fingers prepping you for his cock, it’s still a stretch. He’s pushing inside slowly, and it’s thankfully to both your benefit– because he’d definitely cum if he didn’t, and you’re sure there’d be a sting if he pushed it all in at once.

He whimpers as he bottoms out, his hand still squeezing yours as he tries desperately to ground himself. “God, you feel so good, can’t– can’t believe how tight you are, oh my god,” he whines, absolutely sure that if it wasn’t for the condom he would’ve cum from the very moment he felt your walls squeezing around him.

“You’re big,” you reply breathlessly, reaching your free hand up to the back of his neck to pull him down, closer to you, “so fucking big, feel so full.” “Fuck, don’t say that, I’ll cum–” he groans, and you can feel his cock twitch and throb, as if it to confirm to you he means it. A kiss is the only apology you offer now that his lips are in reach of yours, and he lets go of your hand to prop himself up on his elbows.

He rests his forehead against yours when he pulls away, and slowly, he starts to pull out. “Gonna– gonna fuck you now,” he breathes, pulling out almost completely before slowly pushing back inside, “gonna, oh– fuck, gonna make you feel good too, promise.” You bite your lip, muffling a whine as he continues to build his slow, but steady pace. You don’t think you’ve ever been fucked slowly by anyone, but fuck, it feels good.

You hold his face in your hands, kissing him deep and messy, with your tongue shoved as far into his mouth as it’ll go. You’re both panting by the time one of you pulls away, and oh, when he looks at you– his heart feels like it could stop right then and there. You’re so beautiful, he’s so in love with you, and the way you look at him so full of tenderness and adoration makes his head spin.

He buries his head into your neck as he starts to fuck you faster, genuinely afraid that he’ll cry if he looks in your eyes any longer. You wrap your arms around him, clinging to his body as you start to roll your hips to meet his thrusts and help him to hit your spot. He moans your name, one of his hands snaking underneath your body to pull you even closer.

You’re pressed to him, chest to chest, bodies hot and sweaty. His face feels unbearably hot, and when he lifts his face from your neck, the lenses of his glasses have almost completely fogged over. “Bin, oh my goodness,” you giggle as you reach up to take his glasses off for him, and he giggles too, though it’s quickly cut off by another moan.

It’s easy to tell that he’s getting close, and it really comes as no surprise– he’s been so hard for so long now, and he purposely staved off his orgasm just for this moment. His thrusts become more desperate, the throbbing of his cock more constant as he squeezes and holds you tighter. His pace isn’t perfect and his thrusts aren’t precise enough, he knows, but he hopes he’s still doing well enough to at least uphold his promise to make you feel just as good as he does.

He can feel you trying to snake your dominant hand between your bodies, and he pulls away from you enough to make it easier for you once he realizes what you’re trying to do. He tries to watch, but the very moment your fingers start to rub your clit, you clench around him and it makes his eyes roll back as he moans.

Changbin whimpers when you moan his name, hips stuttering and thrusts becoming erratic. “C-Close, oh my god, ‘m so close,” he whines, begrudgingly letting you go so he can dig his fingers into the mattress instead so he doesn’t accidentally hurt you. His knuckles quickly turn white, and though it makes him emotional to do, he looks you in the eye.

It’s now that it really sets in just how much Changbin cares about you. There’s no one else he’d ever do this with, no one in the world he wants more than he wants you, and you can see it in the way he looks down at you. His furrowed brows and watery eyes, his bottom lip that trembles, the desperate, almost pathetic cries of your name. He lets you see his most vulnerable self, because he trusts you and loves you.

You reach to his face, cupping his face in your hand to guide him down to you. He thinks you’re going to kiss him, and you are close enough to, as he's able to feel your breath against his lips. But you don’t– instead you whisper words that make his world tilt on its axis, a loud, desperate moan escaping from deep in his chest as he cums.

"I love you.”

He fills the condom with long, thick and sticky spurts, his entire body trembling. In turn, it only takes a few more strokes of your fingers to cum again, your eyes rolling back as the white hot pleasure licks over every inch of your skin. Changbin collapses first, careful to fall in a way that won’t completely smother you beneath him.

He pulls out slowly after he catches his breath, and then carefully removes the condom from his softening length. He leans over your body to toss it in the trash bin near his bed before he falls back down next to you, and wraps an arm around you to pull you closer. You end up in the same cuddling position you were in at the start of the night, with Changbin half on his back, and you with an arm thrown over his body and leg tucked between his.

You’re naked this time, there’s an “Are you still there?” pop up on the tv that’s since gone ignored, and you told Changbin you love him. So it’s better, he thinks; everything about where you are now is better. “I love you too,” he finally says, and you giggle, scooching up so you can kiss him. “Took you long enough to say it back,” you say, and he giggles too, happy beyond words to finally have everything he’s ever wished for.

network tags: @skzstarnet @ksmutsociety

#ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #changbin x reader #skz smut #changbin smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year ago

Text

Sometimes greedy gambits do work out.

Your typical greedy fiend may wax about their insatiable desire for the material, how satisfaction is the death of their nature and never shall they cease stretching their fingers towards the next shining trophy-

But they know limits.

They have that little bit of normalcy that tells them when it's time to drop something, even if it leaves a taste like curdled milk in their mouths.

Not Xiko.

Xiko grabbed onto something and he did not let go.

Not even when death came knocking at his door.

This celebrity of the Greed Ring was known for being the biggest, most successful human/monster trafficker of Hell itself. Xiko, a mere mid-ranker, yet clever and crafty enough to dethrone nearly everyone in his field of vile work.

Wanted humans and monsters worth owning? In mint condition? With some really rare traits? Leave it to him and his boys, you won't be disappointed.

With great skill and talent comes great danger, but Xiko didn't cower when he started to gain many an enemy, when he could no longer count them, when he spent most of his time hunting them down rather than hunting the poor souls he's supposed to sell. With each visit, he'd return home with a few trophies to remember his victory.

Things were going well.

His empire of fifth kept growing, enough so that it garnered the attention of the very Lord Rinx, a client Xiko both reveres and dreads, due to his extravagant tastes. Why, he ever earned himself a juicy deal with this strange, extremely popular establishment on the surface that constantly bulk-orders humans. The Clergy's Eye or something of the sort, he knows the Icons had been there before.

How impressive is that? Enough for prideful folk to eye him wantonly.

Xiko had the opportunity to grow in rank, to sit at Rinx's table and negotiate starting a little jewelry store in the heart of Greed to keep up appearances and branch out. What luxuries.

Unfortunately, all highs lead to lows.

His health starts deteriorating inexplicably. Xiko begins being unable to move properly without chronic bursts of pain debilitating him from doing much of anything other than lie and wait for the wave of torment to pass. He has no idea where it's coming from. The pain is so great he gets blinded and passes out in some episodes.

The best doctors he can find tell Xiko he developed something terminal. Not quite a cancer, similar, something only demonoids can exhibit.

But what did the name of it matter? His own monumental riches wouldn't save him from certain doom.

One might think Xiko would do some soul searching with the time he had left, as laughable as that sounds for a being as rotten as him.

Not even close.

You don't get this far without being stubborn.

Things can't end as they are. Xiko can't die, he has so much to do and so much to oversee, it's simply not an option. He can't.

In the midst of despair and hopeless solution-seeking, Xiko finds a possible answer to his impossible conundrum inscripted in his most favored trophy, a timeless chalice.

Between its jewels and lovely finishes, the instructions for a ritual sat written in one of the oldest tongues in Hell. Having a historian for a friend sure comes in handy, doesn't it?

Said acquaintance is there to witness it when Xiko grows mad enough to try it, at the hands of demons who perpetuate these ancient practices.

A mummification-like ritual.

Except, to avoid death, Xiko must remove the two organs which the soul is most connected to, the brain and heart.

He knew what he was getting into when he laid on that altar.

He knew that he would suffer physical trauma beyond anything he could ever have experienced in life. He knew he would come out of it looking like a completely different being. That he would no longer be a demon.

And he was ready.

He was ready when they started chanting.

He was ready when his jaw was stretched to absurd proportions.

He was ready when his chest was torn open.

When he danced in that barrier between life and death, looking down at himself while his figure withered and contorted.

Those memories are... Scratchy, to say the least.

Xiko recalls screaming at the top of his exposed lungs and feeling his skin rip from several sides all at once, as if rejecting him. He remembers when his skull was crushed and how he could hear it for a moment. He knows he twisted and shriveled like a bug on that marble.

And that he woke up.

Wrapped like a present.

Dead yet amongst the living.

To continue his work. To remain forever at the top.

So what if he was emaciated now? If he'd never get rid of the massive scar where his figure was torn open, if his eyes now reside inside his bizarre gaping maw and his arms are elongated? Xiko had made it.

And while death was unavoidable, it was not the end.

In fact, it was the beginning of something a lot more amusing for Xiko.

He found his new appearance frightened his competition. Rumors of him being an undead diety spread. No longer featuring a core name or even something as simple as a sigil, Xiko was freed of even more weaknesses.

He made no effort to hide what he had become the next time he was present at Greed's Conqueror's Spoils festival. His mangled, infernal undead form on the spotlight.

Some of them were smart enough to understand what he had turned into, knew to stop pursuing him. For when you take something from a mummy, it cannot rest until it retrieves its possession.

Others came to find that out eventually.

Perhaps the person Xiko feels most sorry for is, not one of his enemies, but you.

You poor thing, still trying to escape him, still trying to lockpick your cages and manipulate his men, trying to make it out at all costs.

You never think twice when you set foot outside his territory.

Unaware that he'll always instinctively know where to find his "stolen" possession.

#Xiko oc #demon oc #monster oc #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster x reader #yandere demon #monster boyfriend #monsterfucker #minors dni #pinnie's art

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 5 months ago

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Ror family that has a daughter that's like rapunzel. Long magic hair 🌞

-You were an oddball, even for Valhalla, as you were the adopted child of many of the gods and the strongest human fighters in history. You were a human yourself, but it was your abilities that were unnatural, and your family was keeping you safe, as they know how others would use you.

-Your hair was very long, over 12 feet long but always seemed to be shining and healthy, mainly because you took such great care of it because your mother, before you had been adopted, forced you to, so she could use her ability to give her youth back.

-When the gods found out how she had been abusing your ability they were quick to strike her down and set you free, something you had never had before and just running around outside made you feel so alive and happy while you were curious about everything- wanting to know as much as you could!

-That’s when they found out about your ability, the ability to heal, not just wounds, just you could heal things like time, returning others, like your mother, to when they were younger.

-Thankfully your family wasn’t going to use you- your ability was your own and you could use it if you wanted, but nobody could ever make you use it again, not without your consent.

-It was strange, being free and not being forced to heal others, making them younger or removing scars, but your family was behind you, encouraging you to try new things, from food at the different pantheons, to trying on different outfits and doing different activities, it was honestly a bit overwhelming, but you were having so much fun.

-Since your hair was so long, it took several of the Valkyries working together to braid it in several intricate braids so it would all be up off the ground, letting you not having to worry about it getting caught on something or stepped on.

-Them doing this just made things even more fun for you as you were uninhibited now, you could move freely and if they looked away, even for a moment, you had already run off, which was amusing to gremlins like Anubis and Loki, but to those who were genuinely worried about you, like Adam and Hades, it was worrying.

-They couldn’t say it was as worrying from what you did on a normal basis, using your hair to rappel down cliffs, lassoing it so you could leap from building to building, using it as a hammock high in the rafters above, and so many other dangerous things- so you disappearing seemed almost tame compared to all those.

-They knew you had been locked away for so long, that’s why you were so curious, like a child experiencing something for the first time every single day, so they were patient with you, teaching you things you’ve never had the chance to experience before.

-They would never lock you away again- you were so bright, so warm, you were like the flower that gave you your abilities- sunny and powerful, but they were going to keep you safe from those who would lock you away and use you. Nobody was going to use or hurt you again.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror adam #ror hades #ror loki #ror anubis

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hellsslibrary · 9 months ago

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hiiii could I get an nsfw alphabet with satan from obey me? :D

I love that little angry cat sm<3

#a.n. : I may or may not have gotten too carried away with this, so be warned, dears... And someone asked me for a bunch of SMAUs, so I'll probably do them hehe.

MASTERLIST IS HERE.

!!Warnings: top!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!Satan, praise kink, easy pet play, intimacy, mention of many kinks with —fication and where there is someone else in sex in the "NO" part, oral sex, tiny mention of rimming, safe and unsafe sex, a description of sperm and his dick is a little strange(I just find it cool that it might be somehow different for demons, but I wasn’t really into it... Yet), tiny mention of breeding.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

SO... I could talk about this for hours, but he's probably one of the fastest to bounce back after sex, even if you've literally fucked the life out of him. And I think he would be quite independent? That is, he doesn't really need anything from you other than a few reassuring words, compliments and maybe a glass of water (although he will be very grateful if you do anything else). It’s just that he is quite capable of cleaning up on his own, and then washing himself (and you if you want), but if you insist on doing it yourself, he won’t say a word against it.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

If we talk about himself, then it seems to me that this is his brain (forgive me, please, but not sincerely). Like, he is very proud of his knowledge and thinks that this is the most important thing in life! And he's more than capable of applying that knowledge in a sexual manner, too.

You? Hands, probably. It doesn't matter which part. It doesn't matter if they're muscular or skinny or have scars or whatever. He just loves your hands, especially your palms. He can intertwine with your fingers, look at the lines on the inside of your palm, he absolutely enjoys the way you squeeze his thighs/waist/neck/arms and well... Yes, they look attractive.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

He's picky. And he's a low-key pervert. Most likely, he will want you to wear a condom. But if you beg him enough or he's in a place where he just wants it fast, he'll want you to cum inside him, even if it doesn't happen often. Also loves it when you cum on his face, but will NEVER tell you about it or suggest it until you suggest it or accidentally cum on his face and see his reaction.

About his sperm? It seems to me that its consistency is quite normal. Not too runny, but not too thick either. It has a green sheen mixed with creamy white... And it most likely tastes absolutely nothing, well, tasteless.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I didn't know what to choose, but imagine... He would never agree to completely public sex or sex in general where someone can see you completely during the process, because he becomes vulnerable, he shows you the side, which he doesn’t show to anyone. BUT!!! I really think he would really like the idea of being heard (especially by someone you know, but we won't point fingers). He secretly wants his moans, sobs, whimpers (maybe even screams) to be heard, so that everyone can hear that you make him feel good. So that everyone can hear your sounds, your praise only for him, your thrusts only for him, your everything only for him. But he will never agree to this, nah.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

It seems to me that he has little, if any, physical experience. He was angry at everyone and everything before you came into his life, after all. But mentally? Oh god, you'll never realize he didn't have much experience (or any at all) unless you ask him about it. So yes, he knows what he's doing.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Well... Missionary? Yes. This may be the most common, most used position, but that's what he likes. He can see your face and so can you. He can touch you everywhere and so can you. He feels you close, feels your every breath, hears your every sound, sees how your body tenses from your movements. It's very intimate for him. And he can intertwine your fingers!!! Charming.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Him and 'goofiness' in the same sentence? It sounds funny, but it's not. I think he's completely focused on the act of somehow making a joke or doing something funny. He can't even think of doing something like that, but he'll laugh if you do it.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

It's not necessarily the cleanest, but it's okay down there. He gets his hair cut periodically, so there is practically no hair there. I think the color is absolutely the same as above, maybe even lighter. And I think his hair there is not spiky at all? He's a prickly guy, but he has soft hair in both places. :p

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

HE'S SO ROMANTIC, FUCK. You understand, right? He himself is very soft (towards you, of course), and he absolutely loves to create some kind of intimate, loving atmosphere. And he has so many references from books that it gets crazier every time. But he is also ready to dwell on a little romance, like whispering about love to each other, holding hands, or just being close (until the beast awakens in you or him).

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

I don't think he really needs it. He doesn't find it too exciting or helpful, so he'll just take a cold shower or call you if you're free... But what if you're not around, but you tease him somehow? He will do it. Many times. More than amount of fingers you have. More than teeth... More than your every hair... And you'll die once you're within his reach again, but it will be nice.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Definitely a kink for praise (maybe even for praising him higher than he is, almost worship). He just wants to make sure that he is good, that he is the best, that he does everything perfectly. Definitely easy pet play! Both ways too! He will be happy to put on ears, a collar, a tail for you (maybe something else, if you wish). And he will be absolutely finished if you do the same and then fuck him. Maybe sex in risky places? For example, in his room, where a book or even a stack can fall on you at any moment, and you will continue to have sex like rabbits (or Lucifer’s office, but this is not so fun... And most likely murderous).

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bed. Yours most likely. He’s just more comfortable and safe there (if there’s a lock on your door and the other 6 demons aren’t breaking in on you 24/7, yes). Besides the bed? He likes sex against a wall/closet/door or something. He likes standing sex, where you hold him up against something vertically.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

I think he's the hardest to excite out of the cast as a whole. But, to be honest, he is a simple man... Some intimate touches or words from you are more than enough for him to get aroused. Nothing too risque or unusual, just you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

As I indicated earlier, threesomes or more (public sex, cuckolding and similar things too)! Besides? Bimbofification, sissification, dollification, yes. And most likely, he doesn’t like breeding, but he won’t say a word if you ONLY want to TALK about the fact that he could get pregnant.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He absolutely loves sucking you off more than the other way around. Just the weight of your cock on his tongue, the taste of you, the way you react... It turns him on. Turns him on a lot. Physically inexperienced, mentally a whore (no worse than Asmo♡, of course).

Although he loves it when you suck him off too! It feels good and he likes to know that you want to please him, even if he insists it's not necessary! Speaking of rimming, by the way... I don't think he would be a fan, hehe, but why not. Although he won't cum from this, no.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

I think he would really like the slow, sensual rhythm. That rhythm where you take your time, where you enjoy every inch of each other's skin, where you can feel each other's every reaction and just lose yourself in the experience.

Although, if he rides you... Say goodbye to your dick, man, wish it only good luck. He comes off on you at times like these, so it's going to be fast, hard and merciless.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

No, he's not a fan of that at all. As I said just above, he likes to stretch out the moment and enjoy the leisurely time. But if you have a high libido or you just really want to have sex with him, but you don’t have time, then he won’t refuse. But he won’t offer it himself.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He fantasizes about it a lot, but really doesn't like taking risks. He loves to experiment a little with you, try new things, it's always good to discuss each other's desires even if you don't like them, just to know in advance! But nothing too risqué or kinky, that's not his cup of tea.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He's a demon. He has great stamina. But he guesses the moment when you can no longer do it and stops there. Can last for several hours without getting tired, but likes to stop for a few good rounds.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Apart from the collars and obvious ears and tail, then no. He is not a big fan of toys, as he thinks that you satisfy each other very well. But he will keep and use anything you offer him or buy him.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Oh, he loves it. This happens very rarely as he is not patient when it comes to you. But when he wants and can, it will be one of the sweetest tortures for you. You will be torn between the desire to continue or get to the main thing.

He doesn't particularly like being teased back though (obviously). But he is completely willing to endure for you as long as you want.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Not the loudest, not the quietest. Maybe a very tight six out of ten... He will moan, groan, maybe even whimper, but most of the time it's in your ear or in your pillow, but even without that he's pretty average.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

You once had sex while he was reading a book to you. And he managed to read it without stuttering, only pausing to catch his breath when you sped up or he neared orgasm. You took it personally and thought that you could very well change it... He lost his voice after the next time (not that he minded, since it was short-lived and his voice was clearly the most insignificant problem while he could barely sit upright).

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Nice 5 and a half inches, still soft. And almost 7 when he is erect. Completely straight from head to base. He has a pair of green veins that run vertically from the very bottom to the top. And his head has a slight green tint. (Someday I'll write headcanons for characters' dicks in their demonic forms, someday...)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Practically zero. He is absolutely not exciting until it is you. The same person who can stand watching the sexiest porn he likes or something like that and not get aroused. But when is it you? He's already hard as a rock.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Doesn't need sleep after sex as he doesn't get too tired, but will sleep with you if it's night or you ask. Usually he falls asleep immediately after you finish cleaning and he is on your chest, but he pretends and waits for you to fall asleep, and then falls asleep himself, making sure that everything is in order.

#seme male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #a!writes.#sub character #sub obey me #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me x male reader #satan x male reader #satan x reader #sub satan #satan smut #satan obey me #sub om #om smut #om x reader #om x male reader

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hugsandchaos · 4 months ago

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Regarding this post

How would Frostbite react to Danny having a panic attack like that? How does he respond to it? Is he able to help Danny calm down?

I don't know, just a thought- I'm a sucker for the father/son bond it made me think of when you mentioned it.

Frostdad

You wouldn’t believe how much I actually struggled with the panic attack scene, it was insane. I had to do it over and over again, but I’m proud of it! The ending was a little rushed, so it might not be as good as my usual work, but I plan to add more if I can because I’m starting to like the ideas I got from it! I just had to give you what I already had written down, I think you’ll like it! I’m sorry if it’s shorter than you were expecting. I got way too carried away with possible scenarios and ended up with a bunch of vague notes instead of actual writing 😆

——————————————————————

First Encounter

Frostbite could still hardly believe it. The Great One, Savior of the Ghost Zone, right here! In the same room as him! If the chief wasn’t so focused on the core readings in front of him, he’d be practicing what to even say to him in preparation for when he woke up. He very briefly glanced over to the bed where he was resting before turning back to the screen. The warrior was exactly as other ghosts had described. At least, at first.

He was small, about the same height as a two hundred or three hundred year old, and had very little fur aside from the rather big patch on his head that covered some of his face. His eyes were opened briefly a while ago to make sure they weren’t damaged or that he didn’t have a severe head injury, and they were indeed the same green as the ectoplasm that flowed through them all.

His limbs didn’t look like they have much muscle, but Frostbite knew from the stories that they weren’t as weak as they seem, but they were as injured.

Yes, the Great One was discovered when an unknown ghost entered their borders and triggers the sensors. By the time Galeforce had gotten there with Frostbite by her side, the Great One was already unconscious and bleeding out into the snow, staining it green. He was brought into the hospital immediately, and many odd things were discovered.

For instance, it became clear during core scans that the Great One’s core wasn’t done maturing. It hadn’t even finished developing its ice powers! This meant that he wasn’t a ghost for very long, and it was frankly concerning. They’d heard that he wasn’t a full ghost and was half human. From the limited information they had, they knew that humans couldn’t handle the extreme cold very much.

The room had been raised to a high enough temperature that the he’d survive and hopefully be comfortable. It wasn’t something the doctors couldn’t handle, though. Building tolerance to a warmer room was practically a requirement in certain fields of medicine in the Far Frozen.

Frostbite was getting pretty warm, however. He looked at the clock. It had been 45 minutes since he came in. He’d need to take a break in the next 20 to 30 minutes if he didn’t want to begin experiencing problems.

A high pitched beep from the computer snatched Frostbite’s attention away from the clock and forced him back to looking at the monitor. The Great One’s core was picking up in vibrations and becoming more active, and the strange rhythmic thumping known as a “heartbeat” had picked up as well. The strange waves from his head were changing as well.

A small groan came from the bed. The chief snapped his head to the side. He was waking up.

The Great One was waking up!

Without thinking about the others wanting to see this, Frostbite rose from his seat and walked towards the bed, both out of excitement and concern for his patient.

The Great One turned his head and made an expression that Frostbite had seen before in patients waking up from an incident. It seemed almost like a struggle, but once they were open, they drifted around the room lost until they landed on Frostbite. Frostbite composed himself and bared his teeth in a smile. He reminded himself to keep his voice down since he had just woken up.

“Hello, Great One. It is an honor to—“

Frostbite was cut off by a scream.

The monitor beeped loudly from a jump in the core vibrations, and the other machines began to follow as they picked up on a sudden increase in ectoplasm pressure, and breathing rate. The veins in the Great One’s body flashed a bright green glow as ectoplasm rushed to the surface to harden it. It became so hard and taunt that little crevices were glowing along the skin. It almost looked as if the skin was going to break apart.

The Great One started reaching for the IV, but couldn’t grab it. He tried again and again, but his hands were shaking too hard to fully grasp it. Frostbite reached out to grab his wrists once he realized that the ghost was trying to pull out the IV. The Great One’s breathing rapidly picked up and grew shallower.

“Hey, hey, don’t pull that out!” Frostbite exclaimed. He was pulled out of trying to impress the Great One and back to acting the way he does with other patients, which suddenly felt like an obvious choice.

It seemed to have only made the problem worse as the Great One began fighting back, tugging his arms and made noises of distress. Frostbite is a doctor, but he is also a chief who takes his people’s protection very seriously, so it was no struggle to keep his hands around the Great One’s wrist. Then it was as if he was speaking another language, but if it was, it was nothing like Frostbite had heard. His injured core was practically screaming to be released, to run away and escape the danger.

“What’s going on?!” A voice shouted from outside the room. Frostbite turned around to see SwiftIce run into the room.

“I think he’s having a panic attack.” Frostbite said. He had to restrain from shouting, but the urgency was in his voice.”Get the diazepam, now.” He said. He turned back to the ghost and tried to put on a friendly expression.”Hey, hey, it’s alright.” He said calmly. He knew those words alone wouldn’t work, but it was a place to start.

The Great One pulled harder on his arms and began to move around as he struggled and failed to get his hands free. His eyes squeezed shut from the strain.

“Look at me.” Frostbite said gently. He lowered his head and knelt down so he’d be closer to the young one’s height.

The halfa opened his mouth and repeated the phrase from earlier, then repeated it again, but with extra “words”. It might be whatever it was that humans spoke. It would make sense for his first language to be a living one since Frostbite knew that some ghosts were humans before becoming ghosts. This wouldn’t be a bad thing if they had a translator.

“Please, look at me.” The chief repeated. This time, a little bit more sternly in hopes that the child would listen.”Get something to calm his core and muscles!” He called out, very briefly turning his head before looking back to the halfa.

Green eyes filled with terror opened up and looked at Frostbite, but only for a split second before looking beside him. Tears threatened to spill as he doubled his efforts to escape. Now, he was kicking as well. He cried out when he moved his left leg, which was still wrapped in bandages stained with green and a hint of red.

“I said let me go!!” The Great One screamed. His eyes glowed brightly as he shot a glare at Frostbite and bared his teeth, which as previously stated, were small and not very threatening. Frostbite noticed SwiftIce out of the corner of his eyes admitting the sedatives to the IV. The young one would be calmer soon, but he needed to breathe.

Frostbite took one of the halfa’s hands and placed it against his chest, ignoring the tugs and noises of protest.”Listen. In…”

The chief took in a deep breath.

“Out…” He exhaled. He took in another breath, and when he began taking in his third, the halfa had started to copy him. It was a struggle at first. His first breath was shaky and hitched, and he exhaled a little too quickly, desperate for the next one.

Frostbite continued and watched as the Great One’s breathing slowly evened out and became deeper. It seemed he was coming out of the panic attack as he took one without suddenly gasped for air or shaking. Once the sedatives he was given kicked in, the bright glow in his eyes and veins died down. The strength in his tugging slowly became less and less intense until he stopped fighting all together.

His shoulders slumped and he started leaning back against the pillow and bed frame, his eyes only barely glowing now and starting to look tired. Once Frostbite was sure he was calm enough, he spoke again.”Can you hear me?” He asked, just to be extra sure.

His patient nodded.

“I’m going to let go, but I need you to stop trying to remove your IV. If you can’t, we will have to strap you down for your own safety.” Frostbite said. He spoke sternly, putting a heavy emphasis on the “stop”, but not without understanding.“I understand that you’re scared, and I will explain everything as long as you don’t try to remove anything, fight, or run, okay?” Frostbite said.

The halfa nodded again.

Frostbite slowly released his grip on the Great One’s wrist and stepped back to give him a little space. The Great One didn’t reach for the IV again. Instead, he held both hands close to himself. He held the hand Frostbite had pressed against his chest. Frostbite hoped he hadn’t accidentally hurt him. He was sure he was gentle enough.

“My name is Frostbite. You are at the hospital in my village. You were brought here after you were found unconscious and bleeding into the snow at the edge of our borders.” He explained.

The young halfa stared at him blankly for a moment, likely processing what he heard. His eyes soon shifted away from Frostbite to look around the room. They landed on the IV next to him for a moment before he looked back to Frostbite.

“What did you give me?” He asked. His voice was much quieter than before, and Frostbite was sure that if it wasn’t for the meds, he’d be either snappy or still terrified.

“Diazepam, amrix, and gailen.” Frostbite responded.

The halfa raised an eyebrow and made a funny face in confusion.“Gailen??” He questioned. He almost didn’t finish the word before opening his mouth wider and yawning. Frostbite could barely see any fangs and wondered if he even had any.

The chief nodded.“It helps soothe your core and prevent it from buzzing too much.” He explained.

His patient didn’t quite look like he was paying attention as he sunk further against the bed, but his eyes still looked focused. Well, as focused as they could be. He stared at Frostbite for a while, which was to be expected, and he smiled at the young halfa.”I understand if you don’t trust me, but please know that we aren’t your enemies. If we wanted to hurt you, we’d have done it by now.” Frostbite said.

His patient slowly blinked. He opened his mouth, but only the strange noises came out again and it was quiet.“What was that?” Frostbite asked. He leaned closer.

“Where...?” The halfa muttered. His eyes fluttered closed, but after a short while, they opened again. Just barely, though.

“You’re in the Far Frozen.” Frostbite responded. The Great One’s eyes drifted shut again, but the chief continued.”You’ll likely still be healing when you wake up, but don’t worry, we have our best doctors and nurses helping you.” He said. The only response he got was the machines monitoring his patient’s heartbeat and core vibrations slowing down.

Frostbite soon sat down and took a moment to think about what had just happened. In hindsight, he should’ve expected some form of surprise or wariness when the Great One woke up. He’d been unconscious when he was found, so he didn’t know that he was brought to a hospital. They’ve never met, either, and there were just as many bad ghosts as there were good.

A full on panic attack, however, was not something Frostbite would have expected even if he realized the chances of the halfa reacting negatively to the new environment sooner. Not only that, but hearing his voice made Frostbite realize something that was frankly terrifying.

It was clear that his core wasn’t fully matured yet, so he was a child by ghost standards, but Frostbite had hoped that he was at least an adult by human standards. Despite never having met a human before, Frostbite thought that he looked rather young. Then again, some adults look young. He held onto these assumptions because surely, a child didn’t attempt to fight Pariah Dark and win, right?

However, after what just happened and hearing his voice, a sense of horror was creeping its way into the chief’s mind. It was almost certain that the Great One was indeed a child.

The next time the Great One awoke, he didn’t freak out as much as last time, however he was startled about Frostbite as he woke up with his bandages being changed and yanked his arm away. After staring at Frostbite for a short while, he held his arm back out to let him finish. He winced a little during the process, but other than that, he had good self control.

“You said your name is Frostbite, right?” The young halfa asked. His core buzzed anxiously as he stared at the bigger ghost.

Frostbite was nearly done with the bandages and didn’t look up from his current task.“Yes. May I know yours?” He asked calmly. This time, he was more mentally prepared to talk to the halfa.

When he finished, the Great One held his arm and looked at the bandages. He turned his arm as if inspecting them before he turned to Frostbite.”Danny.” He responded.“Thanks for the help, but I need to go.” He said. He began to move around in the bed that was too big for him to try to swing his legs over the edge, but realized that the bed was bigger than he thought and resorted to trying to stand up.

“What? But you’re not properly healed yet!” Frostbite exclaimed. He lifted a paw to try to lightly push Danny back down. The halfa nearly fell over fairly easily and exclaimed something in human speak, but he grabbed onto Frostbite’s paw and began trying to squirm his way out from underneath.

“Hey, let go! I seriously need to head back home before something happens!” He said. He was able to escape fairly easily on account of his size and Frostbite’s loose grip. He flew up a little too fast and hit his head on the ceiling. He let out a noise of pain and looked down at Frostbite.“Wait, how long have I been here?” He asked.

The chief raised a paw up to try to gently grab the halfa. Unlike most ghosts, Frostbite’s people were surprisingly incapable of flight after spending so much time on the ground.“About a week, but you must--”

Frostbite was cut off by Danny letting out a noise of surprise in Human Speak.“Thank you so much for helping me, but I really need to find my way home! ‘Kay, thanks, bye!” He said quickly. Before Frostbite could say anything, he was gone.

Reunion

The day had gone by as usual. Work got done and things were running smoothly, and there was still no sign of the Great One. It had been two weeks since Frostbite saw him, since anyone saw him, and the chief was wondering if he was alright. He had no doubts that the Great One was powerful. He had defeated Pariah Dark, for Ancients’ sake!

Yet every time Frostbite thought back to their conversations, for lack of a better word, he couldn’t help but worry. The fact that the Great One was so young left him with a heavy weight in his core. Where were his parents? Where were his mentors? Why didn’t they help?

Frostbite stood at the edge of of one the islands and looked out towards the distant parts of the ghost zone. The entire sky, including the pieces that stretched below the islands, had almost turned dark. The last few ships between other nearby floating islands were just now landing and unloading their passengers. Soon, Frostbite would need to return home.

He continued to watch the sky grow dimmer for a while before he noticed something in the dark green. He squinted his eyes and leaned forward a little. It looked like a ship. As it came closer, he realized it didn’t look like one of his own. Not only that, but there was something smaller flying beside it.

The thing beside the ship picked up in speed and started heading right for Frostbite. The chief growled and readied himself for a fight. Why weren’t the defenses up? Where was everyone? If their ships were already turned off, he’d need to handle this threat by himself for a while. That won’t be a problem, though. The ship and the thing next to it were small. He could--

The thing next to the ship stretched an arm out and waved. The white glove contrasted against the black sleeves, and the green eyes that the chief could see more clearly now looked more lively than last he saw them. The half-ghost picked up in speed and flew a little lower, possibly coming in for a landing.

Frostbite’s shoulders relaxed as a smile began to stretch across his maw. The Great One was back!

The Great One landed a distance away from Frostbite and waved the ship down to land next to him. Once it was down, he looked over his shoulder and directly at Frostbite.

The chief began making his way over to the young halfa. He wanted to say many things. He wanted to greet him, he wanted to ask where he went, he wanted to ask why he’d returned, but all that came out was a worried “Are you alright?”.

The Great One smiled. It looked a little strange without a longer maw, but he couldn’t help that and shouldn’t be judged for it.”Yeah, I’m alright. The injuries healed a while ago.” He replied. It was almost strange seeing how calm he is now. Before, he seemed absolutely terrified, but now, he seems more confident. Perhaps it’s the fact that he wasn’t alone, or maybe it’s the simple change in scenery. He turned to the ship and called out to whoever was inside. A few seconds later, a small door opened and two humans stepped out.

They were both wearing large coats and pants lined with white fur. One of them shivered and hugged themselves, then said something to Danny. The Great One spoke back and all their gazes were directed to Frostbite.“This is Sam and Tucker. They’re my best friends and wanted to come with me to say thank you!” The Great One said.

One of the humans waved their hand, which was covered in a glove thicker than Danny’s. Frostbite knelt down to be more at eye level and extended both hands.“It is an honor to meet you both!” He said.

Danny turned to them and spoke in the human language. He most likely translated what he said to his friends, who took both hands and shook them.

Well, it was more like they placed a hand against his palm. Their hands were significantly smaller than his own and he had to be careful not to crush them. Frostbite turned to Danny.

“I’m honored that you have returned to thank us. It was no trouble at all helping you. It’s getting dark, so I insist you stay the night before returning home.” Frostbite said.

The Great One looked surprised.”Uh-- Sorry, but no. Not this time. We have to head home soon or people will start to notice we’re gone. I just really wanted to say thanks for all the help and ask why.” He said. Frostbite’s eyes widened a little. One of the humans, one with black hair and purple eyes, held his paw as if interested in his claws. The chief paid little attention to this.

“Why? Why wouldn’t we? Great One, you defeated the ghost king! You prevented him from rising up again! The entire ghost zone should be in your debt for what you’ve done for us. Helping you recover was the very least we could do.” He said.

The Great One stammered, then let out a small laugh.”Great One? I-I mean, I did put that guy back in the box, yeah, but I doubt I’m all that great.” He said.

The human holding Frostbite’s paw turned to the halfa and asked him something, to which he replied with a shrug and a string of noises. Suddenly, there was a blaring noise coming from the ship. The third human rushed inside to investigate. He poked his head out moments later and shouted something.

Danny turned to Frostbite.”Sorry to cut it short, but Tucker says that the ship is already starting to freeze. It’s not meant for cold temperatures.” He said. The other human rushed inside.

As disappointed the chief was by this news, he knew it couldn’t be helped. He could offer to bring the ship to the engineers and they could improve its tolerance to the cold, but the humans would need a warm place to stay. Plus, it wasn’t hard to tell that Danny was eager to return home, although it seemed more that he was worried about something than disliking the Far Frozen.

Frostbite put on a smile.“Very well, but know this; If you are ever in need of assistance or are feeling unwell, you are welcome in the Far Frozen any time. You and your friends.” He promised.

The ship hovered up into the air. Danny jumped off the ground and flew up into the air.”I’ll… remember that. Thanks again for the help. See you again sometime?” He said. The ship circled around and flew off the way it came.

“Of course. Safe travels, Great One!” Frostbite said.

“You can just call me Danny!” The Great One called out as he rushed to catch up.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #frostbite #Danny phantom frostbite

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redrandomposts · 5 months ago

Note

Everyone reincarnates but only does who died with regrets remember.

Everyone except Ivan remembers the past because Ivan died thinking his death wouldn't matter to Till while the others died thinking about how their loved ones died or how sad they are because of them.

Ivan is just really confused about his new friends but because he's smart and observant, he made a conclusion that they're either reincarnators or transmigrators

(also till flirting with Ivan badly but it works because Ivan thinks it's cute)

There is something... interesting, going on in Ivan's life right now. Well, Ivan's life wasn't really all that curious to begin with, so maybe he was exaggerating it.

You see, Ivan was homeschooled for the first half of his schooling career. Up until high school, all he had was his wide array of tutors, absent parents, and a large, grandiose mansion all to himself. The only real connection to the outside world was the internet, mostly blocked, which led him to reading web novels and manhwa for a good part of his pre-teens.

So when he was sent to a private boarding high school, you can imagine the true shock and horror he experienced. Hygiene wasn't even on the list of many classmates, their language was crude without any authority around, and they skipped classes for games and such. Even he didn't have the audacity for that, and he had to study from 8 to 8 every day prior!

(Yes, he spent lunch breaks and dinner, as well as four hours until midnight (excluding showering) reading.)

His only solace were the group of friends that invited him to lunch on one of his first days at school. The group of friends, might he add, that was the source of his interesting life.

Ivan has good reason to suspect that they are otherworldly. Not alien-otherworldly, but from another-universe-otherworldly.

When they first approached him, they sent a pink-haired girl named Mizi, his now best friend. If that wasn't an indicator to 'something going on,' he doesn't know what is. She began with, "Hello, you're Ivan, right?" Second off thing - he knows his name wasn't mentioned at all, because he specifically asked the school to call him Navi.

Well, it was his father and mother's request, but whatever.

Third thing; they were all so unique!

Mizi had gold eyes and pink hair. If that wasn't main-character material, he doesn't know what is.

Till had messy, silver hair and the most vibrant, ocean blue eyes Ivan has ever seen, even if he's only seen pictures and paintings of the ocean before.

Sua's black hair wasn't so notable, but her violet eyes were.

Hyuna and Hyunwoo, along with Isaac and Dewey, made up a gang-like structure but were kind-hearted and actually a band. Hyuna and Hyunwoo had unique, darker-skin not often seen in East Asia (at least, not in the media), and Dewey's bleached hair paired with Isaac's scar was not usual either.

And Luka, well, blonde hair and yellow eyes? Heart disease? Strangely manipulative and distant behavior from the group?

It was as if Ivan had been transmigrated into a web novel the moment he met them. He would know if a truck hit him, however, so he's sure that he's not a transmigrator.

He held a few suspicions, which only intensified when parents' day came around and he saw that the group acted naturally around family.

They weren't a group of transmigrators either.

So... reincarnators? Except why would they crowd around him, know his name?

It's because they obviously knew him in his past life, too! Now, Ivan was tasked with figuring out if they held a grudge against him.

Thinking on the past, Mizi had no grudge nor ill feelings toward him. Luka was kind of awkward, not meeting his eyes for the first week or so. Sua had the tendency to go sibling mode (as seen in many web novels) and then tone it down when she came to her senses. The gang-but-not-band didn't have any awkward feelings, but not any unnecessary pre-conceived positivity toward him.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though his favorite held the biggest grudge. Till, that is. He avoided him quite obviously, choosing one of the others to hang out with (except for Luka). Some days, it seemed as though Till were expecting Ivan to bully him, and others, it seemed as though Till would be the one to bully Ivan. By punching him, of course.

Eventually, it smoothed over into an awkward flirting stage. Emphasis on awkward, because Till did not know how to do anything but cheesy things seen on movies and pick-up lines found on the internet.

It's not as though Ivan could do better. He didn't primarily read romance web novels, after all.

=====

ill continue this...maybe...

somehow i turned ivan into a web novel enthusiast. idk how that happened. so i guess i twisted the prompt... but it makes the most sense to me, so.

#au idea #alnst ivan #alnst #alnst till #ivantill #tillivan #alien stage #reincarnation AU

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mysicklove · 2 years ago

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

DAY 22: A/B/O

With: Isagi Yoichi

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Omega/bottom Isagi, Top/Alpha/Gn reader, omegaverse stuff (slick, claiming, scenting, etc.), isagi is in heat, readers pp could be read as strap or dick, marking/biting, slight blood, possesive behavior, instincts and stuff, isagi lowkey being feral

A/N: i like this one. and dont ask me why i know so much about a/b/o dynamics.'

Isagi was completely fine with being an omega. Sure, in the beginning he thought it may affect his soccer career, but as he grew and matured, he realized that it wasn't a problem anymore. Scent blockers and suppressants were a gift from the gods, and key factor of how he went pro. Without them he didn't know where he would be.

But, it led to an addiction. Constantly hiding his scent, hoping people may mistake him for being a beta so he doesn't have to deal with the slander omegas get on the field. And without heats he doesn't have to miss practice. Hence, every morning he puts a scent blocker sticker on his neck and wrist, and the second he feels a little amiss, he pops a heat suppressant. And he lived fine.

Except then you came into his life. An alpha.

Heats are supposed to be spent with you. His body was begging him to spend it with someone, but he shuts it down immediately. Its unhealthy, and he knows it. A doctor has reminded him for years now, but he brushed it aside.

The two of you had fought about it for about a year now. It was damaging his body, but he was too deep in his soccer career to sacrifice those multiple weeks of the year. You couldn't force him to do it, but every time you saw him pop that pill, and instinctual dread flooded your veins.

He hasn't had a real heat in five years. More than twice longer than what is considered “unhealthy” for an omega. It means when he finally does fall into it, its bound to be painful, and long lasting. Not only that, but his instincts are supposed to be heightened more than usual, so he doesn't know what he will say or do once he goes into it again.

But you finally convinced him spend it with you. He has been hinting for months now that he wanted you to mark him, but when he finally bluntly asked you to claim him, you said you would only do it during his heat. He agreed with much hesitancy.

It's a dread to think about, and honestly he is a little scared. But he promised you he would do it. He (very reluctantly) called off two weeks from soccer practice during off season, when he felt his pre-heat begin to creep up on him.

So, here he is. Going to have his first heat in five years.

The two of you stayed at his place. It was probably better to be at a spot he is comfortable with after all. The days before it weren't too bad, you forced him to put away the scent blockers for a couple of days, so the house smelled strongly of him. He went out of his way to scent as many things as possible, growing anxious as the days went by. He also built a nest on the space next to his bed, covered in blankets, pillows, and too many items from your dirty hamper. He was antsy during this time, finding himself clinging to you, and following you around the house. It was cute honestly, watching him have a slight pout while he grips onto your hand.

His body temperature started to pick up by the third day of his preheat. He started wearing less clothing, and you hand fed frozen fruit to him, hoping to cool him off just a little. He tosses and turns in the night, whining out for you to hold him, comfort him, make the strange feeling stop. It was so confusing and he hated it.

And finally after four days, he experienced his first heat since he was a teenager. It was in the middle of the night, the two of you in his nest, and you were fast asleep when he awoke. Every inch of his body ached, and he was panting. Sweat dripped down his temple, and he could feel slick stain his boxers. It made him groan in frustration, but he couldn't do anything about it because he was so horny.

Everything in him screamed for him to get filled, and as quickly as possible. He doesn't even think about it, tearing off his shirt and boxers. His now naked body trembles and he pants into the back of his hand, before turning to your sleeping form. He quickly finds himself scampering over to you, shaking you awake.

You turn to him with a groan, eyes blinking in the darkness to try to adjust themselves. “Yoichi?” You question, voice hoarse from sleep.

He basically tackles you, collapsing his entire body onto yours, and burying his face into your neck, scenting it quickly and desperately. “It’s h-here–dont know what to do. H-Help. Hurts. It hurts. Make it stop!”

You snap awake in an instant, resting your hand on the back of his head. He straddles your leg, beginning to hump at it. You croon at him, the sound low and comforting, hoping to calm him down just slightly. “What do you need me to do, Yoichi?”

He shakes his head back and forth in your neck. “I don't know! J-Just touch me. Please, alpha!”

You cup the back of his head, letting him rest in your neck, while you reach to grab his toy bag the two of you packed just a couple days earlier. You flick on the lamp on your nightstand and he glances at the bag in your hand, letting out a small growl and nipping at your skin.

You flinch, and he continues to growl, low, not threatening, but annoyed. “Don't want the toys. Touch me,” Isagi hisses, grinding his cock onto your leg.

“Feisty omega,” You murmur, setting the bag on the other side of the nest, and moving to reach behind him.

He gulps at the words, feeling bad already. His hormones are all out of wack, and he can't seem to think straight. He nuzzles into your neck and purrs, lifting his hips up to meet your fingers.

You use a finger to prod at his entrance, eyes slightly widening at the feeling. “Wow love, you are so wet. You're dripping all over your legs and the pillows,” You murmur in astonishment, dragging your finger around the hole.

He whines in embarrassment, cheeks flushed from his heat, and now from humilation. “D-Dont know why. I woke up and it hasn't stopped,” he complains, voice low and gruff. You continue to pet his hair, trying to comfort him.

You hum in response, pressing your other finger into his hole. He shivers at the feeling, clinging onto you in the darkness. When it slips in easier than usual, you prod another one, finding it just as easy to slip in. “Fuck Yoichi, you’re just begging to be fucked aren’t you. Taking it so easy.”

His back is arched by now, pressing into the fingers that are now scissoring him. “More. ‘ts not enough. Please, please. I need more, alpha!” He cries, both sides of him now leaking. His face is flushed, and his whole body feels like its on fire.

You shush his mewls, letting out a soothing scent and he moans into your neck. “Alright, alright. I’m going to make you feel good, relax,” you whisper, trying to pull yourself a way for minute to prepare yourself. He doesn't let you go far, arms wrapping around your entire body, breathing into your skin. The scent seems to make him feel grounded, and it's what he desperately needs right now.

“Here, lay down for me,” You encourage, trying to pull him off just for a second so that you can line yourself up with him. He doesnt seem to listen, shaking his head and panting. Sweat beads at his temples, and he's already beginning to beg again, but you push him to the bed, pinning his hands up for a moment while you press the tip into him.

He groans at the feeling, already borderline oversensitive. “Hold me. Please. Hold me, ‘s hot. I can't–”

You kiss his neck, pressing further inside of him, and his eyes widen, gasping at the feeling. His nails dig into your back and you try not to hiss out, continuing forward till you bottom out in him. Slick continues to leak out and onto the nest, but you don't say anything, afraid of embarrassing him.

But you couldnt help but notice the way his back arches, and the wet feeling now on the both of your stomachs. His breaths are shaky and his hold on you is weak. It gives you a chance to pull away for a second, glancing at the cum spread between the two of you.

He covers his face with his hand, blushing profusely. “I'm sorry. Don't know what happened. J-Just felt…really good,” He warbles, not daring to look at you, but feeling himself begin to grow hard again.

You giggle at him, planting a soft kiss to his lips. “S’alright. So cute, Yoichi. Wanna take a break then?”

His eyes are back onto you in an instant, wide and panicking. “N-No! You can't stop, please keep going!” He begs, lifting his hips to grind his cock on your stomach in a plea.

You know it's the heat talking, so you don't dare to tease him, afraid of pissing him off. So you abide by your omegas command.

“Fuckkkk,” He breathes, eyes rolling back when you start to pick up the pace. You grip at the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss, and thrusting forward. His legs wrap around your waist, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer. Your thrusts are hard, short, and make a lewd slapping noise from the skin to skin contact.

Isagi pulls away from the kiss, eyes cloudy, and mouth slightly swollen from the attention. “Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha,” He chants, mewling at every thrust, while slick drips down his thigh..

You kiss his cheek, humming to him in question. “Right here. I'm here. Doing so well. Such a pretty omega,” You coo in response, and the effects are immediate. He purrs at your voice, nuzzling into your neck and scenting you with a small fucked out grin.

“Mark me.”

You pause your movements, eyes flashing to his blue ones. He whines at the interruption, grabbing at your hips to pull you in closer. “Right now? It's so early,” You reason, growing dizzy off his warm scent.

It turns sour in an instant. “Y-You dont want me?”

He was being unreasonable, but that was the heat talking. His brain wasn't in the right place, and the second you didn't agree, it hurt. Way more than it should have. Tears prick at his eyes, and he begins to push you away, feeling gross with himself.

You don't let him go far, releasing a calming scent, and crooning to him. “Not what I meant. Relax, omega. It's okay, you're okay. I'll mark you, will that make you feel better?”

He clings onto you immediately, scent light again. “Please please please. Wanna be yours. Your omega. Please bite me!”

You groan, grabbing his hips and forcing him back down onto the length. He gasps, trembling, but now baring his neck to you.

“You're going to be the death of me, Yoichi,” You sigh, not liking how much control he has over you. Between the scent and his lewd words, which would never come out of his mouth if he wasn't in heat, it was hard to stay present in the moment.

“Please please please,” he cries, grabbing your hair and forcing you toward his very own neck. You glance at him one last time, looking at his glassy eyes, and flushed cheeks. He nods at you, a whine slipping past his lips.

You take one last deep breath, inhaling your lovers intoxicating scent and bury your teeth into his neck. He yelps, gripping onto your hair as tears drip down his cheeks. But his back arches, and hes cumming again from the action. His head spins as he feels your tongue lick at the wound, crooning out apologies for the pain.

Your thrusts have slowed down slightly, but they are deeper, harder. After cumming two times Isagi feels himself grow tired, weaker, but every cell in his body is screaming at him to go again and again. Till he passes out, if he must.

“You alright? My omega…All mine,” You whisper, brushing away his sweaty bangs. He feels light headed, absolutely amazed at the feeling of being claimed after all this time and your words, but frustrated from your bare neck. It's not fair.

A possessive nature takes over him, and he lets out a small growl. You raise your eyebrows at him, confused by the sudden aggression. He was always pretty temperamental, but you granted his wish, and were fucking him, what more could he need?

A pair of canines dig into your neck before you could even process his movements. It makes you wince, hissing out and shivering as you feel his tongue lick over the wound. “N-No warning?” You half complain, not minding the feeling of being marked by him.

He doesnt seem to be listening, heat clouding all coherent thoughts. “My alpha. Mhmmm. Mine, mine, mine.”

“Possessive little thing. S-Supposed to be my line,” You laugh at him lightly, and he pulls away for the first time tonight, maneuvering you until he is sitting on your lap, and beginning to raise himself up and down. Two hands fall on your stomach to help steady himself as he begins to grind on the length, head falling backward as he pants at the ceiling.

His movements are frantic, desperate even, as if he was afraid he would never get a chance to cum again. His own cum on his stomach is beginning to dry up, but he doesn't seem to mind. His cock flops back and forth at his movements, and sweat drips down his neck. His whole body seems to be a pinkish shade, covered in sweat. It makes you slightly worried, but knowing him, if you force him to stop so that you can check on him, he may try to kill you.

He cums again without much warning, his fingers curling up and eyes rolling backward. The stream is weaker, dripping pathetically down his cock. His whole body trembles and he collapses forward onto you, pawing at you to hold him again.

You grab water from the nightstand and basically force it down his throat, the excess dripping down his chin and onto your chest. He gulps it down without much complaint, staring at you with lidded eyes the entirety of it. “Lets take a break,” You mumble, caressing his cheek and wiping away the water.

He purrs into your touch, and realigns himself up again, a drunken smile on his face. “Not a chance, alpha,” Isagi says, sinking onto the length to try to chase his fourth orgasm that night.

The two of you get little sleep, and you awoke to him grinding on your leg, and biting at your ear, begging you to make him feel good again, full again. But even in your exhausted state, you didn't mind too much, because how could you say no to your precious omega?

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#mello.writes #Barkforme!#Kinktober 2023 #dom! reader #dom reader #sub isagi #a/b/o #sub isagi yoichi #isagi smut #isagi x reader #reader insert #x reader #isagi yoichi smut #bllk smut #bllk x reader smut #blk x reader #yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi x you

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