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#she’s ready to get lectured bring it on
storytowrite · 23 hours
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|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|
PART 2
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Paring: Minho x Y/N
Genre: smut, angst, university au
Word count: 942
Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).
Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.
Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.
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Monday. The beginning of the week, the end of the weekend and the end of freedom. It was a sunny day. You woke up in the morning, the sun's rays streaming through the slightly tattered blinds. You had meant to fix them a long time ago, but you could never find the time. Your parents always told you to take care of such things right away because it would only get harder to gather the motivation later, but who listens to what parents say?
You got out of bed and stretched. Time to get ready for classes. You thought. You took off the oversized shirt you used as pajamas and put on a black lingerie set. Standing in front of the mirror, you admired how the bra emphasized your breasts. You examined your reflection. The love bites left by the guy from the Saturday party had almost disappeared; apparently, he hadn't bitten you as hard as you initially thought.
You put on a black top and dark jeans. You tied your brown hair into a high ponytail and applied light makeup. Then, grabbed your bag and left the apartment. Ever since you started university, you lived on your own. Your parents had a house on the outskirts of the city, and you didn't see them very often.
On your way to the university, you stopped by a café, where, as always, bought coffee and a croissant. Sipping your fresh latte, you entered the university campus. Soon, your classes were about to begin. You headed towards the lecture hall, lost in your thoughts.
"Y/N!" Suddenly you heard a familiar voice from the end of the corridor.
"Oh, hi Woo, so you did manage to transfer after all." You smiled at your friend. "You didn't mention on Saturday that you were starting your classes here today."
"Yeah, I know..." The guy gave you a genuine smile. "I didn't want to brag until I was sure it would work out. Do you happen to know where room 214 is? This place is like a maze."
"Mhm... it's right above us, on the floor next to the men's bathroom" You replied and took a sip of your coffee.
"Oh, great! Thanks!" He grinned at you. "I'm off to class. See you later, Y/N!" He said cheerfully and walked away, leaving you alone.
You just sighed and headed to the lecture room, sipping your coffee along the way. You were almost about to enter the classroom when someone bumped into you, spilling coffee on your blouse.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!" You snapped.
"Because it's my fault, right?" You heard in response and rolled your eyes.
"Can't you walk properly, Lisa?" You asked sharply, taking out tissues from your bag.
"It's not my fault you're blocking the way!" Lisa replied, tossing her hair and strutting toward her desk like a model.
You rolled your eyes. Lisa used to be your friend, but now she was your biggest enemy at the university and beyond. The two of you stopped getting along in sixth grade when Lisa accused you of stealing. Since then, Lisa took every opportunity to make your life miserable. Unfortunately, fate brought the both of you to the same major at the university.
With a quiet sigh, you took your usual spot by the wall, in the third row from the end, where you could easily do everything except take notes. You hated art history lectures. They bored you, and on top of that, the lecturer was old and spoke too slowly to focus.
You glanced at your watch. Strange. You thought. The lecture should have started a long time ago. You looked around the room. Other students also seemed to wonder where the professor was. He usually arrived five minutes early, and now ten minutes had passed since the lecture should have begun, and he still hadn't shown up. Some students started packing up and preparing to leave. Some were already standing up, when suddenly the door opened, and a quite short man entered the room, who was by no means their lecturer.
"Dear students, the class hasn't ended yet. Please take your seats." He spoke up and placed his folder on the desk before leaning against it. He casually rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, with the top two buttons undone. He looked much younger than their usual lecturer, and he was much more handsome. "My name is Lee Minho. You can call me Mr. Lee." He introduced himself. "I'll be substituting for Mr. Kang until the end of the year as he has some personal reasons preventing him from continuing to teach this subject." He informed the students. "At the end of the class, please sign your names on this list." He added, placing a white sheet of paper on the desk. "Shall we begin?" He asked, looking around the room.
You observed the man closely. His black pants perfectly accentuated his muscular thighs. The white shirt tucked into his lower garment gently hugged his torso. His dark hair was slightly tousled by the wind. He wore glasses, which added some seriousness to his appearance. He looked intimidating, yet his voice was gentle. You recognized that voice… Your eyes met. You stared into his dark brown eyes and froze. It was the same man with whom you had sex in the club's restroom a few days ago. Shock painted across your face.
"What the fu..." you covered her mouth before you could utter the last word. You knew that if anyone found out about what had happened between you and the lecturer on Saturday, you would be in trouble.
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<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->
-> Series Masterlist
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Taglist: @yaorzu-blog, @iovecb97, @hpnsfwaddict
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reiderwriter · 3 months
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💢 At Each Other's Throats 💢
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Spencer Reid x female! Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Summary: A previous encounter means that you're not the biggest fan of Spencer Reid, and you go to some extreme lengths to prove that to him.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Dom! Spencer, but not exactly sub reader , degradation (use of whore, slut), semi-public foreplay, arguing as foreplay etc, oral sex (m receiving, f mentions, too), face fucking, rimming, nipple play, rough sex/ rough play, spanking, slapping, spitting, choking, messy sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, mentions of painful sex/ pain play etc. some possible CNC triggers/ phrasing.
A/N: I couldn't find a gift of Spencer being bitchy enough, so everyone, please enjoy Kyle Orfman from Life After Beth. This one was a labour of love, if love was actually hate. It's 2am. This is obviously not edited, and may never be.
Masterlist || Bingo Board
You knew from reputation alone that you would have a hard time working with Spencer Reid. Perhaps it was the slew of child prodigy articles that popped up alongside his name. Maybe it was even just your preconceived notion of what men with three PhDs, a badge, and a gun were like. Maybe it was the fact that he'd written to you after one of your first professional articles was published in The American Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology and told you a piece you'd worked on for 18 months was just plain wrong. 
Either way, you laid eyes on him, and the hatred was cemented. But fuck was he hot. 
He had no clue who you were as his boss introduced you to him, looking between the two of you as if expecting good things to happen. You should've warned him. 
“Spencer, this is Y/N. She'll be assisting on a few cases from this month onwards.” 
His eyes glazed over as he ran your name through whatever roller index of memories he had stored in there. 
“Y/N is a lecturer at the University of Virginia. She's going to be lecturing at the FBI Academy from September onwards-” 
“You! You wrote an article, I wrote to you about it, did you get my le-”
“Yes, I got your letter. I believe you called my writing ��juvenile’ and my thinking ‘wishful,’ and that if I had any actual field experience, I'd slowly understand how many mistakes there were in my writing.” 
Agent Hotchner took an almost imperceptible deep breath in, trying to hide the fact that this was all new information to him. 
“Well, here I am, Doctor Reid.” 
The man in front of you gaped for a moment, letting his mouth hang open, closing after a few seconds only to open again. Perhaps you'd disorganized that index of his. You hoped you'd set the goddamn thing alight. 
“Shall we get started?”
To say that you'd gotten off to a bad start was an understatement. Your start had been reversed over by a dump truck with no tires. It had been cemented into the ground with no chance of going anywhere but down into the pits of hell. 
Which is, coincidentally, where you found yourself every time you had to engage Spencer Reid in conversation. 
Your first impression of his looks - his incredibly good looks - was that he was even better looking when he was pensive, and unhappy, and being bitchy. He was positively climbable when argumentative, and you liked nothing more than ruining his day, if just for the fact that he'd angrily loosen his tie and pop open his top buttons, exposing the pale white of his neck, and his sharp collar bones, perfectly ready for someone to suck and nip at. 
He was still an ass, however, and you couldn't bring yourself to sink to those depths.
Four cases in, and you hadn't agreed on one thing. You'd caught a serial arsonist, who he had demanded was most likely an office worker, but you'd countered with college student, and you had prevailed there. 1-0. 
Then, unfortunately, you'd lost back to back cases with unsubs in the trucking industry, unfamiliar with and uninterested in the life of the Jack Kerouac type. 
You'd even the playing field at last with a child abduction. And although you knew you'd both been keeping score, you were so genuinely happy for this case to be over. A child was safe at home, and you'd worked so well under pressure (something he had assured you would change your view of your personal forensic psychology theories). 2-2. 
Of course, those were just the big leagues. You'd fought many petty battles, too, as the war waged. 
You'd accidentally stolen his place on the jet, enjoying the long bench seat for a good few naps. A few times, he'd settled in next to you, trying to nudge you out of the chair completely, but you'd held your ground. 
“This is my seat. Usually. There are like 10 other places on this jet to sit. Why does it have to be here?” He'd grumbled into your ear as you gently elbowed him in the side, accidentally, of course.
“There aren't assigned seats. Maybe you have control issues, Doctor,” you cut back, trying to avoid speaking too loud to avoid the ire of the group. 
While you'd enjoyed bickering with - and intellectually besting - Spencer greatly, it did seem that the sentiment wasn't shared by those around you. 
“You can't be serious, right now,” Morgan complained from a seat opposite. “You're seriously fighting over a seat, right now?” 
“It's my seat, Derek, come on, you know it's my seat.” 
The look returned to Spencer almost had you ashamed of your petty actions. 
“I swear they're just taking every advantage to get closer and closer together. Next thing you know, she'll be sitting in his lap,” Emily said from the corner of the plane, so obviously not talking to you that you were almost offended. 
“Ah, young infatuation,” Rossi replied, still ignoring you. 
Reid slinked just slightly away after that, and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the comments themselves or the loss of his annoying companionship. 
You wanted him to bother you because it meant you'd succeeded in bothering him. 
You'd had more than your fair share of rather explosive arguments as well. 
“You can't seriously believe that Thomas Edison did more for the field of engineering than Nikola Tesla,” he'd shouted at you at a bar after a case had landed you in paperwork hell, filling out forms and working into the late hours. 
A drink had been suggested, a celebration after solving four straight cases in a row, and you'd gladly taken the chance to unwind. 
“Spencer, we're literally sat in a bar decorated with multiple light bulbs. Look, there's one. Another! Astounding. Thank you, Mr Edison.” 
“And none of it would be possible without Alternating Current, so yes. Thank you, Mr Tesla.” 
Your teammates had long since abandoned you to your petty bickering and fighting amongst yourselves. They'd stopped getting involved when Penelope had tried to mediate your discussion about Doctor Who, which had quickly devolved into New Who vs Old Who. 
You didn't even care strongly either way, you just cared that he did. And however he felt, you were sure as hell ready to take up arms against him. Because it was so fuckimg hot watching him lose his shit. 
You were a grown woman. You could admit that to yourself. You likely wouldn't admit it to anyone else, even if it was as clear as day that you found him unbearable attractive at times. You sure as hell knew that it wasn't a one-way street, from the way his eyes strolled across your body each morning. 
You wondered if there was a section of his brain that was dedicated to memorising everything you'd said, done, and worn since he'd met you. You hoped there was. 
On your fifth and final case with the BAU team, you felt unmatched in your annoyance. 
You were still drawn with Spencer for case breakthroughs, and you felt the need to beat him once again just to nail the point home. He was just stubborn enough to see a 3-2 win as a landslide victory for himself, though you were absolutely going to frame it that way yourself if you managed to be the one to crack everything. 
All sense of teamwork and camaraderie was off the table. 
You had a murderer to catch.
Three women, beaten, assaulted, and tied up. He'd shorn their hair but bagged them up so they were unseen. Then he'd placed the bags on display. The unsub was caught between two extremes, hatred of his victims, and gentleness, protecting their dignity in death by covering them up. 
Obviously, you and Spencer had to decide which side of the debate you were to land on.
“I think we're dealing with a killer without remorse here. It's easier to explain the covering, the dressing of the women as a ritual rather than guilt.” 
He'd finally played his cards, and now it was your turn to passionately wipe them from the table. 
“Remorse? He's cut all their hair off and beat half of them so badly we needed dental to identify them. And in case you've forgotten Spencer, half of them are prostitutes.”
“You're saying he can't feel remorse for killing prostitutes?”
“That is not what I'm saying. Don't twist my words."
“Well, of you'd said something that wasn't nonsensical, I'd have a better chance of understanding what the hell you're trying to say!’
With every line you'd stepped closer and closer to one another, like two boxers in a ring, sizing each other up before a fight. 
You wanted to take his tie and strangle him with it. You wanted to pull him down for a kiss and force him to shut the hell up. 
“Reid, Y/N, both of you take five,” Hotch called sternly from the other side of the room. Guiltily, you both broke away from one another, his hand brushing your side as you took a step back, almost as if he'd meant to grab you before Hotch stepped in. 
Probably to remove you from the room. 
“Take five?” You said, mustering all the disappointment you could as you silently pleaded to stick around. 
“Go back to the motel and get some rest. If you're going to argue like this, I don't need you at the precinct, and I certainly don't need you on my team.” 
You blanched at that, almost taken aback by the harsh words as you silently nodded and quietly walked towards the door, letting it shut behind you. 
Spencer stayed behind, and though you couldn't hear his arguments, you knew he was attempting to reason with Hotch, as well. It evidently didn't work as he stormed out of the room behind you. 
He looked half like a kicked puppy, half like an angry school kid who'd just been scolded by a teacher. 
“Don't look at me like that, this is your fault,” you muttered as you walked away from the room. 
“What? How is this my fault?” 
“If you weren't so goddamn infuriating, we'd be able to get some actual work done.” 
You marched off in the direction of the exit, but he caught your shoulder before you made it that far.
“You're blaming me? This is my job, Y/N, not yours. You get to go back to a cushy little office after this is done to teach the people that are going to end up doing the paperwork that consists of only 2% of our job.”
His finger jabbed at your shoulder as he said the words, and you had to resist the temptation to grab it. 
“Doesn't feel too good to be criticized when you're just doing your job, huh, Spencer?” 
His brows knitted together in a deepened scowl and he took a step forward. 
But there were eyes on you, and whatever confrontation this was, you didn't want to act it out in front of an office full of cops. 
You turned and walked away again, down a seemingly abandoned hall to what looked to be an empty storage cupboard, flinging the light on and waiting the three seconds it took him to catch up with you. 
“What's your problem?” He said, joining you in the cramped closet. 
“You! You're the problem! You're infuriating, and annoying, and most important, you're you!” You poked his chest back, harder than he had earlier, quietly reveling in the feel of his body under your fingertip. 
“Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to be someone different? Someone who worships the ground you walk on?” He said, discovering sarcasm for the first time since you'd been introduced. 
“Sure, Spencer, if you can take tour head out of your own ass long enough to worship someone else, then be my guest.” 
With a single push he crowded you against the wall, a hand above your head locking you into position as his other hand held your hip, his own hips joining you at the wall as you sucked in a breath. 
“You're begging to hear praise, right now, Y/N. Do you even hear yourself?” He asked, whispering the words directly into your ear. 
“W-Well, you have me pressed up against the wall like some fucking caveman that needs to breed or die.” You spent half the time you were talking trying to compensate for the stutter, trying not to look weak, that you totally missed the words that came from your own mouth. 
“You think I want to have sex with you?” He asked, chuckling awkwardly, even as his hand on your hip began rubbing circles, his head hanging lower, just inches away from your mouths meeting. 
“I think you'd love nothing more,” you said, finally lifting your hands to his hair and tucking a lock behind his ears. “Such a shame I won't be crawling into your bed.” 
“Is that a challenge?” He asked, and you were taken aback for a few seconds. 
“You want me so fucking bad, you're trying to convince yoursel-”
With a swoop, he cut you off, his lips meeting yours. You gasped and allowed his tongue to enter your mouth, but you came to your senses quickly. You kissed back with all the anger of the last month and all the attraction that had built up since you'd joined the team. Your tongue fought his, your hands tangled in his hair as his pulled them out, pinning them against a wall. But you slipped free and grabbed him again, grabbing the tie you'd wanted to choke him with earlier and not letting go. 
His lips were soft, and his body felt hot pressed against you, and you hated how good he was at all of this, how your body responded to his, how each time you pulled away it was with a small whimper as you begged for more. 
“I knew you wanted me,” he said, between kisses, grabbing your face and tilting it up as he returned his tongue to yours. 
“Oh, shut the fuck up, you kissed me first.” His hands trailed up your hips, untucking your shirt as he pushed his hand under, his cold fingers sending a trail of goosebumps along your skin as you shuddered. 
“I kissed you because you begged me to,” he said, his fingers caressing the bottom of your chest as he tried to press your bra up further. 
You were about to argue back when his lips met yours again, and you were lost in the haze of arousal, leg lifting to his hip to better allow him space to settle against you. 
You grew wilder in your passion, neither of you giving in even for one second as you writhed against each other, begging for satisfaction while denying that you'd ever wanted each other in the first place. Just as it became unbearable, your hands slipping to his belt, ready to pull his cock free and take it, the door opened again. 
“Reid, Y/N,” Morgan said from the doorway as you hastily jumped away from each other. 
You pulled your shirt down quickly, and Spencer stepped behind you, covering up the tent in his pants as you stared guiltily up at Derek Morgan. 
“Hotch sent me after you to give you the keys to the SUV,” he grumbled, making no comment on anything that happened. 
“We were just, um, we were just-” your brain fought for an excuse, but you'd left your brain behind somewhere between joining the BAU and foreplay with Spencer in a closet, so words escaped you. 
“You were just making out in a closet. It's okay, we all know,” Derek said, turning to leave. 
You jumped up, indignant now he'd brushed you off, and followed him out of the closet, an equally shocked Spencer trailing behind you. 
“What do you mean you all know? All know what?” You said, stomping back into the office. 
“That you two are into each other. It's why Hotch sent you away earlier. He didn't want to see the two of you going at it,” he said, pressing the car keys into your hands. 
“We are not into each other,” Spencer shouted back at Morgan as he stalked off, and you glared at him to shut his mouth. There was a crowd forming, and you still didn't need that attention. Not when your hair was matted from seven minutes in hell with Spencer or when his hand had, once again, settled on your hip, pulling you closer into him. 
“Let's go,” you huffed, and finally left the building with Spencer right behind you. 
You didn't talk for the rest of the drive home, even as your brain flooded itself with images of him taking you in the back of the car, your lips around his dick as he drove, him pulling over to bend you over the hood. 
You went straight to your separate rooms when you got back to the motel, though you swore that the walls were thin enough that he surely heard you pleasure yourself, fingers sinking into yourself. You weren't sure if he, too, had his hand wrapped around his cock, or if your brain was just now imagining whatever it liked to spur you on. 
Imagined or real, his moans were delicious, a maddening mix of frustration, exasperation and desperation, whimpers and groans, and small growls until you yourself were cumming, and letting yourself sleep.
You avoided talking, all talking, until the end of the case, even as your head replayed his infuriating words, his moans and the rustling sound of his fingers pressing your shirt up. You refused to talk to him to give his coworkers the validation of arguing with him once more. You weren't into each other. 
You simply wanted to fuck him. You didn't like him as a person otherwise. 
In avoiding him, though, the small taste of release you'd sampled in the closet had your softer parts deliriously wanting more. As much as you hated Spencer, you needed him so bad. 
You'd given him the cold shoulder  but he'd returned it just as quickly, and you were more annoyed not talking to him than you weren't. 
Your last case wrapped up, and you decided it was time to give him what he so obviously wanted. A conversation. 
You sat yourself right back down in his seat as you got on the jet and laid down, pulling his blanket over yourself as you took up the entire space. 
The others shook their heads at you as they walked on, Spencer taking up the rear. His eyes met yours, and he scowled, and you couldn't help but wonder if he'd look like that fucking you, so stern and angry. 
You sighed and pushed onto your side as he stood over you. 
“That's my seat.” 
You smiled in success as you looked over your shoulder. 
“I'm tired, I'm going to sleep.” 
“But that is my seat-” 
“Spencer, you've sat on every seat on this damn plane before, that wasn't your seat until last month, now sit down, shut up and let me rest,” JJ exploded and you suddenly felt bad for drawing him into your argument.  Or you did until you sat up a bit, and he sat himself right down where your head had been. 
“Spencer!”
“I give up…” JJ groaned from the table seats, pulling headphones over her head and shutting her eyes, and the others made to ignore you similarly. 
Not one to be beaten, you pushed the book in his hands off his lap and laid your head down again, now cushioned by his legs. 
“What-” his voice squeaked as you shut your eyes, too, and made yourself comfortable. He didn't push you off, or, heaven forbid, start talking to you again. Shockingly, he adjusted to the position quickly and resigned himself to pillow duty for the six hour flight. 
You, too, shocked yourself by how fast you fell asleep. You woke up with his hands in your hair, stroking your head as he read, book in one hand, you in the other. His hands felt wonderful, raking through your long locks, brushing each errant hair off your face. 
“Spencer?” You said, voice still thick with sleep. 
His hand shot away, and you almost regretted not pretending to sleep for longer, sure that he'd have gone on if you hadn't said anything. 
You straightened and cleared your own throat as you stretched, sitting quietly as you listened to the flight landing announcement. 
“Congrats, Y/N, you've successfully finished your time with the BAU,” Rossi said from his seat opposite you, strapping in for the landing.
“And you haven't been shot, kidnapped, or slapped. That's gotta be a first, right?” Emily joked from the corner. 
You smiled quietly as you strapped yourself down, scooting even closer to Spencer now to get your belt fastened.
Still, you couldn't resist the urge to mumble a retort.
“I'm sure Spencer thought about it a few times,” you sighed, a breath of resignation releasing from your lips dramatically.
The others chuckled, but Spencer sat silently next to you until the jet landed. 
He stayed quiet as he began to pack his things, but it became clear quickly that he was dragging everything out. As the plane emptied, you shot him a curious look, not daring to speak until you were the last two on the plane. 
“You're being slow today.” 
“I've never thought about shooting you or kidnapping you,” he said, voice low and quiet, even though you were alone. 
“It was a joke, Spencer,” you started, so sick of him taking g everything so seriously. You made to walk past him, but as you did, you felt his hand on your waist pulling you back as another hand came hard and fast at your ass. 
“I wasn't finished speaking,” he said as his hand ran over your butt, soothing the pain he'd just delivered. “I have thought about slapping you, though.” 
With that he grabbed his bag and stalked off the jet, not bothering to cast another look behind him. 
Two could play at that game. 
In about the most childish was you could muster, you ran ahead of him, staying three paces directly in front of him as he tried to overtake you. You moved when he moved. You sped up when he sped up. You even stopped a few times, so he'd run into you. 
“Y/N, cut it out.”
“Make me,” you said, throwing a withering look over your shoulder. 
He didn't wither. 
Instead, he grabbed your arm and marched you all the way through the FBI building, down to the parking lot, and into your car. As soon as he had you safely in the driver's seat, he closed the door, pulling off your visitors' pass. 
“I'll return this for you, no need for you to dally.” 
“Fuck you,” you spat out the window as you started the ignition. 
“It's been a pleasure,” he said with a grimace. 
“No, it hasn't,” you said back, wondering how long you'd spend in jail of you just mowed him down then and there. 
“You’re right. It hasn't,” he said, leaning down and into the window so you were now eye to eye. 
“Really? It seems like you got a lot of pleasure out of spanking me earlier. You were certainly experiencing a lot of pleasure when you pushed me up against a wall last week. If it wasn't pleasure, there was definitely something long-”
“Long?” He smirked.
“And hard in your pants.” 
He leaned in through the window, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he whispered into your ear. 
“That was my gun.” 
“And I certainly won't be helping you fire a load,” you said, starting the ignition and pushing him back from the window as you drove away from the FBI and away from Spencer Reid. 
It infuriated him that you'd gotten the last word. You'd spent a month with him and hadn't even given him a chance to show off his good qualities, and then you'd left without giving him a chance to prove himself. 
And, in doing so, you'd told a blatant lie. 
There had been two people in that closet, two people with tongues desperate for contact, eager for battle. You'd been moaning just as much as he had when his hands found your nipples. 
But you'd gotten to drive away without listening to his retort, and it was killing him. 
He sat and seethed at his desk for a while, waiting for the sense of relief that you were gone to wash over him. This had been what he wanted for weeks. Why was he now so discontent? Why did everything feel wrong? 
Abandoning paperwork he knew wouldn't be needed until at least next week, Spencer found your address in the team files, wrote it down, and left his desk. 
When you got home, there was nothing waiting for you. 
It was annoying. You'd spent the last month constantly on the go, always with more work, more cases, more paperwork. You'd killed any apparent gaps with Spencer. 
You could still feel his hands on your ass. You hated to admit it, but in your short acquaintance with Doctor Asshat, you'd grown fond of having him around as eye candy. When he wasn't being annoying (talking, breathing, or generally just being), you could quite happily imagine his head buried between your legs, his tongue lapping up every drop of cum you had to offer. 
There were definitely better things he could be doing with his mouth, in any case. 
Your body felt hot, itchy, and neglected as you got home, running a shower immediately and stepping in. 
The water was hot, and the room steamed up faster than you expected. You washed away the fatigue, and you washed away the dirt of a month of cheap motels.. 
Just as you were about to wash away the memories of Spencer Reid and his stupidly skilful tongue, the doorbell rang. 
It wasn't unusual for you to get visitors at 10 pm, but usually they announced themselves. 
You stayed put in the shower. It was probably a package you'd ordered, and it could honestly wait. 
The ringing, though, didn't stop. Whoever was at your door was insistent. First, the door rang to the rhythm of jingle bells. Then, they moved on to Fur Elise. When they got to Flight of the Bumblebees Levels of bullshit, you couldn't stand it anymore. 
You wrapped a towel around you and pulled the door open wide. 
“Sp- mm?” You said, shocked to see him there, but completely floored by his appearance, and more importantly the two hands he'd planted on your cheeks as he pulled you in for a hot, hard, and fast kiss. 
You pushed him off with a hard slap to his face, and stalked further into your apartment, knowing he'd follow closely behind.
You heard the door slam shut as he made to grab you again, but you stayed just out of reach. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” 
“I came because neither of us will move on without this.”
“Oh, you need me so much you won't be able to move on if you don't fuck me?” You scoffed, expecting a sarcastic answer to a sarcastic question. 
“Yes,” he said, and your shock at his earnestness gave him the moment he needed to grab at you again. 
This time, though, the tiny towel that had been holding your dignity in place dropped to the floor as Spencer Reid pinned you against the wall. 
“Already fucking bare and wet for me, how well-behaved.”
“Go fuck yourself!” you said, even as his hands cupped your breasts, grabbing and pulling both of your nipples, making you moan.
“See, your mouth is being a bitch, but your body is being a whore.” 
“Just fuck me won't you? No need to run your mouth.” 
“I think we're finally in agreement on something,” he said, pushing you to your knees. 
“What? Sp-” 
In one quick swoop he released his cock from his pants and wrapped a hand around all of your hair as he slid it down your waiting throat. 
As much as you protested, your mouth was wide open, and your hands wrapped around him just as eagerly. 
Holding your head still, Spencer began to talk as he fucked your throat. 
“There we go. That's exactly how I've needed you for the last month.”
You glared at him as you sank your nails into his thighs, gagging on his cock as he picked up his pace.
With two taps on his leg, you requested a moment, and he quickly pulled his dick out of your mouth. 
You coughed quickly, then spat out all of your accumulated drool before looking up at him. 
Part of you wanted to force him down next to you, to make him taste your cunt the way you'd thought about earlier. The other part, the larger part, was excited about him using you. 
He grabbed his dick and slapped your face with it, returning your earlier hit. He was waiting for you to open up again so he could cum down your throat and leave. 
“Open,” he demanded. 
You didn't comply, but you stuck out your tongue, lapping at his tip slowly as you sat on your hands. He held his breath as you kissed the underside of his shaft, making his way to his balls. You reached them and finally sucked them into your mouth, making sure to look up and make eye contact with him as you toyed with his private place.
He didn't argue or complain. Instead he fisted a hand into your hair and dragged you to your bedroom. 
Divesting himself of his pants and shirt, he sat down and, still on all fours, pushed your face back into his crotch. Perched on the edge of your bed, he held his cock up and served himself to you. 
“Well? Get back to it, Y/N.” 
Your tongue found his cock first as his hands massaged his balls, playing with them gently as you licked all the way to his tip then buried yourself between his asscheeks. You licked at the skin between his ass and balls, you tasted every inch of him, and you grew angry that he still hadn't done this for you. 
Against his wished, you rose and spat on his cock, before squeezing it hard. 
“Spencer, are you going to fuck me or are you just going to ruin my makeup?” 
“You look prettier with spit coating your face than you've looked with any lipstick,” he said as you pushed him down onto the bed and grabbed his cock. 
Straddling his waist, you were surprised he.let you sink down onto his cock without so much as another word. You felt him fill you up, one inch, then another until you sat fully sheathed on top of him. 
And then he flipped you over so he was back in control. 
“Son of a bitch,” you muttered as he pulled out and thrust back in. 
“You wanted me to fuck you, I'm fucking you.”
You wanted to argue but all you could do was moan yes as he set a furious pace, thumb and forefinger pinching your clit as you bucked into him wildly.
You couldn't stand too much of this, knowing that you wanted to at least outlast him. You wanted to tell him how pathetic he was for cumming first, you wanted to gloat that he'd wanted you more, that he couldn't resist breeding your hot wet cunt. You knew any more of this, though, and you would instead be on the receiving end of those same taunts. 
Pushing against his chest, you used the last of your strength to flip him over again. He struggled, though, stronger than you were expecting, and you rolled together like that for a few moments.
You almost went crashing to the floor as he fought for control, but he pushed a foot off the bed and held you up with his lower body strength. The new position though forced his cock deeper, to just the right angle, and when he thrust into you again, you did something you'd never done before during sex. 
You screamed your pleasure. 
Your orgasm ripped through you, as painful as it was pleasurable, and you grabbed Spencer Reid by the neck and forced his tongue to meet yours. 
He couldn't complain, too busy moaning about your hot, wet, and now tighter cunt to worry about whether he should be kissing you. 
He pulled back and picked his pace right back up, but this time, you resisted less. Hooking a hand under your legs, he pressed your legs up, pushing his stomach and chest down just above your own as he moved slower but harder. 
You wondered if this was what other wen talked about when they said they wanted someone to beat their pussy up, to use them until they couldn't stand. You didn't think you could even think about walking again for the next month as he spread your knees apart and pinned them to the bed, unloading his cum as deep inside you as anything had ever been.
You didn't even know your body bent that way. 
Panting, he collapsed on top of you and buried his head in your shoulder, mumbling and muttering to himself as he came down from his ecstasy. 
He didn't pull out. He barely even softened as he kissed across the expanse of your throat, thrusting shallowly with each nip, until your body couldn't take anymore. 
He picked a spot and sucked, and licked and bit and soothed as he ended one round, and began another. 
“Spencer-” you said, gasping as he sat up, his cock once again standing at attention, filling you still. 
“No. Stop. Don't talk, we're not good when we talk.” 
You nodded and pulled him back for another kiss, wrapping a hand around his throat and pressing hard as he moaned and groaned into you. 
Still wet and slippery and sensitive from your first attempt, neither of you lasted long, falling to the bed when it was all over with a grunt of overexertion. 
“That was…” you said, stopping there, for once totally speechless.
“That was good?” He supplied, but just good wasn't enough. 
“Yes,” you agreed, though, not willing to let your cunt rule your mind when around him.
Anymore, at least. 
“We should… we should probably never speak again,” you said, even as your hand reached out for his, fingers tangling. 
“Of course. I'll leave, and we won't ever speak again,” he said, stroking your hand with his thumb, bringing your clasped hands to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your hand.
“You haven't left yet.” 
“I haven't.”
“I have nowhere to be tomorrow,” you said. “You don't…”
“I won't leave yet. We might as well enjoy this,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked over your naked body. 
“We should definitely just get this out of our systems now. What's the harm in that?” 
“I agree. If we're committing to a one time thing, we might as well go all in.”
“Exactly,” you said. 
“Exactly,” he parrotted.
Exactly a year later, the members of the BAU received invitations in the post to your wedding. Because the both of you had convinced yourself that that one time had never ended and never had need to. 
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barcaatthemoon · 4 months
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priorities || barcelona x teen!reader ||
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you being late brings up a lot more problems.
"shit," you swore to yourself. you couldn't be late again, alexia had really been on your ass. there were talks of benching you until you could show the team that you wanted to be there. it wasn't your fault that your parents left you to fend for yourself. their reasoning was that if you wanted to act like an adult, then they'd treat you like one. it didn't matter that you weren't old enough to drive yourself anywhere like to practice.
you were a sweating mess by the time that you had gotten to the stadium. the last four blocks from the bus stop to work had been sprinted. you hated having to make that trek normally, but it was even worse whenever the weather was as hot as it was. all you could do was get ready and hope that jona didn't want to talk to you privately.
"nena, where have you been?" all of the team was staring at you as you made your way onto the field. you searched for alexia's eyes and immediately wished that you hadn't. she was looking at you with a look of pure disappointment, like you had completely disregarded her last lecture to you.
"(y/n), come with me," alexia told you. her tone was stern, nearly as much as her expression. you were practically shaking in your boots as you followed her away from everybody else. if she would have just pulled you to the sidelines, it wouldn't have been so bad, but alexia walked you fully away from the field over to the tunnels.
"alexia, before you start, i'm sorry," you apologized. alexia didn't even acknowledge what you said, which you knew meant that she was angry with you. you shrunk back before she even started yelling at you, glancing over towards where the other players were barely visible on the field.
"that does not mean anything to me when you continue to arrive at practice late. how many times do we have to talk about this? before when you played it was for fun, but this is your job. you aren't just here to practice and play in games, there are more responsibilities that come with being a member of the senior team. i am done with babying you, so until you can prove that you're willing to do what is needed like arriving on time, you are on your own." alexia didn't once raise her voice. she walked away from you and back to the field. you stood there with your lip trembling as tears began to fall down your cheeks.
you just barely managed to compose yourself before you joined the team on the field. jona made you run laps while they did their scrimmage games. during lunch, you sat by yourself. alexia was usually your lunch partner, but you assumed that she wanted nothing to do with you.
"hola, nena," irene greeted you. none of the girls liked seeing you sit and eat alone, but irene was the only one alexia wouldn't get onto for sitting with you during your punishment. if anything, alexia trusted her to lecture you as well.
"hola irene," you mumbled. you didn't look up from your plate of food, which you had been pushing around for the past 20 minutes. there were only ten or so minutes left before you had to move on to watch film and go to the gym, but you couldn't bring yourself to take a single bite.
"you should eat. you ran a lot in practice and we're going to the gym later. it would make me and some of the other girls feel a lot better if you would try to take a few bites," irene said. you glanced up at her, which was a mistake. almost immediately, tears returned to your eyes. you practically sprinted out of there to avoid letting them see you cry.
none of the girls came after you. alexia did a good job of keeping everybody away from you while you all watched film. you had your little notepad to take notes, mostly on your opponents since you already didn't get much playing time. a few of the younger girls kept staring at you, and several times you found yourself meeting vicky or jana's gaze.
the gym wasn't much better. you kept your head down and only used machines so that you didn't need a spotter. you kept to areas where nobody else was, and any time that you thought someone was approaching you, you'd leave. once you finished your required reps in the gym, you went out to the field, knowing that you had to run laps after everything.
there wasn't anybody watching you on the field when you first got out there, but slowly, more and more of the girls filed out to the seats to watch you. you didn't pay any attention to any of them. you wanted them to leave so that you could get home, but they didn't budge. and so, you kept running and running. at least an hour had to have passed, possibly more before your body started to forcibly slow down.
"nena!" mapi called out as she watched you drop down to your knees. you had been mid-run, and while it didn't look like a blowout, mapi was paranoid. she took off in a sprint towards you, as did most of the backline that you had been playing with. "are you okay? where does it hurt?"
"mapi, back up, give her some space," alexia said. at that, mapi shot up and lunged at her captain. it took everybody except for lucy getting between them to keep them away from each other. alexia was pulled away from you completely while lucy dropped down to check on you.
"hey kiddo, just breathe for me, okay? can you breathe with me?" lucy asked. she motioned for you to inhale and exhale with her slowly. everybody had been so caught up with the thought of you being injured that they hadn't really checked on you until lucy. she got you sitting up, which was when you clung to her in a hug.
"i was so scared. i just stopped breathing," you told her. there was no holding back your tears. you sobbed openly into lucy's shirt. the medics were waved off, but they left a bottle of water and some options for a snack with the girls on the pitch. "i don't know what happened."
"you overexerted yourself. it's been a busy day for you, and patri mentioned that you looked a little tired when you got here. did you sleep okay last night?" lucy asked you.
"i slept fine," you promised her. lucy ran through a little checklist of questions before marta interrupted her.
"how did you get here nena?" marta asked. at that, you glanced down at your hands and mumbled out the truth. you hoped that none of them would hear you and drop it, but that wasn't the case.
"speak up." this time, it was irene's stern voice that forced it out of you. there was a gentleness to it that alexia's lacked, which was why you repeated yourself for them in the first place.
"i took the bus, then walked," you answered. you weren't proud of admitting it, knowing how dumb that was. irene and marta's faces dropped at your words. they knew how far your home was from the first bus station, and then the other four blocks was not exactly light travel.
"if you ever need a ride anywhere, you tell one of us, got it?" marta leaned in and cradled your face in her hands. "i don't care if it is for something stupid, you call someone."
"yes ma'am," you said quietly. there was still a bit of wheezing when you breathed, but you had pretty much stopped crying. "i'm not in trouble am i?"
"not for this nena, not for this," irene said. she left you to go talk to jona and alexia. patri and pina offered to take you back with them, promising that the three of you could have a fun sleepover with vicky and jana if you were up to it. you were in the locker room changing when alexia came up to you again.
"(y/n), there are some things that i would like to say to you," alexia said. she seemed nervous, which threw you for a loop. you were so used to alexia being confident and sure of herself.
"go ahead," you muttered quietly.
"i am sorry for being so harsh on you earlier. that isn't fair to you, and i will work to be better in the future. irene informed me of how you've been getting to practice, and i figured that your house is not too far from my apartment complex. if you are okay with it, i would like to pick you up for practice. we may need to come in a bit early some days, but i have full confidence that one day you will have captain duties." alexia cracked a small smile at you, one that helped relax you a little. "you don't have to, but it would mean a lot to me if you accepted my apology."
"i do," you said quietly. a part of you was just doing it because she was your captain and you didn't want alexia to be mad at you. still, you appreciated that alexia sought you out to apologize for being so strict with you earlier.
"nena, are you ready?" pina asked as she poked her head into the locker room. her eyes fell to alexia, and pina stepped fully into the locker room ready to square up with her captain. "is she bothering you, nena?"
"it's fine, pina. ale was just apologizing. let's go, i want to take a nap before vicky's parents drop her off," you said. pina helped you carry your bag out to patri's car. both women kept a close eye on you, seeing you as their responsibility to look after. you were like their child, not that any of you would say it to one another.
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aquasoftware · 27 days
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His baby. ⪩✿⪨
No warnings just Nanami being a dad (fluff) + ML.
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Girldad!Kento, who pulls the classic "Go ask your mother." When his daughter wants something but eventually gives in, shaking his head with a slight smile once she brings out the big doe eyes and pleading combo. "I'll see what I can do." He says as he acknowledges her request.
Girldad!Kento, who supports his daughter's little dreams and gives her wads of cash to start her snack business at school, then once she quickly sells out, she finds hidden colorful sticky notes at the bottom in her big tote bag telling her how proud he is.
Girldad!Kento, who teaches his daughter how to save money when he finds out she spent most of her earnings on Doordash and Roblox.
Girldad!Kento, who covers his red face in embarrassment when his daughter dolls him up for a tea party, wearing a comically large powder pink tutu paired with a plastic silver crown as she records tik-toks forcing his two left feet to dance.
Girldad!Kento, who proudly wears his daughter's homemade bracelets that she made from a gifted hobby lobby bracelet kit to work anytime he gets handed a new one, not at all caring about the idiotic snickers he gets from his co-workers. Kento's favorite bracelet that he'll forever keep safe is one that has lettered black and white charms saying "Best dad."
Girldad!Kento, who never gets tired of the crafted macaroni gifts, whether it's on a card for his birthday, a picture frame for Christmas, or a macaroni necklace for Father's Day to him, it's always the thought that counts.
Girldad!Kento, who gets spoiled by his wife and his daughter, receiving two packed lunches for work. He was intensely observant of his daughter's latest interest, which this time became those junior cooking shows eager to try out a new recipe. Yet although it wasn't the best tasting food in the world, he still scarfed down his daughter's cooking as if it were his last meal.
Girldad!Kento, who awakens to the horrified cries of his precious child, begging "Papa, there's a monster in my room; can I sleep with you and mama tonight...?" He couldn't deny that, swiftly enough you both accepted her with open arms in your shared bed.
Girldad!Kento, who encourages his child to do a sport, feeling his heart melt as his little girl picks ballet.
Girldad!Kento, who spam calls you while you're at work so you can guide him through doing makeup for her ballet recitals. "That's the last step? Okay, I promise I'll get some videos for you, honey!" He reassures you, understanding that you don't want to miss a moment.
Girldad!Kento, who humiliates his poor daughter at the recital jumping up and screaming "That's my baby!"
Girldad!Kento, who never misses a PTA meeting or a parent-teacher conference meeting.
Girldad!Kento, who knew no amount of pep talks from you could prepare him for his baby getting her first period, halfway panicking in Walgreens, snatching up every sanitary napkin possible as soon as he got the text, picking her up from school early due to how bad it got getting her favorite comfort food to cheer her up afterwards.
Girldad!Kento, whose heart absolutely shattered hearing the sentence "Papa, I'm way too old for dolls now." What did she mean she was ready to give up Monster High and Barbie's? The saddened blonde refused to let his baby grow up even though he knew he had to.
Girldad!Kento, who almost sheds a tear when he finds out other cruel kids have been picking on her, calling her ugly, so instead of a typical lecture, he gave a warm embrace reminding her how beautiful she is.
Girldad!Kento, who will sob his eyes out at every single graduation, including elementary, middle, high-school, and soon eventually college, needing at least five boxes of tissues to himself at her middle school graduation, not even being able to fathom how he'd handle her high school graduation.
Girldad!Kento, who loves his daughter unconditionally.
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8/28/24 11:59pm
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starcandybby · 1 month
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8:15 a.m. - haechan x fem!reader
warnings: reader has she/her pronouns, haechan is in love, fluff , dreamies scold and annoy haechan, might be typos.
minors pls dni ♡
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
The practice room doors burst open as Donghyuck swiftly walks into the space.
“Lee Donghyuck!” Renjun was the first to scold him, barely giving Donghyuck the time to set his stuff down.
“I’m late, I know I know.” Donghyuck had mentally prepared himself for the lecture he knew he’d get when he arrived at practice late…again.
“This is the third time you’ve been late in the last month, Hyuck.” This time, Mark’s voice addresses Donghyuck, uncharacteristically serious for the leader.
“I know, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Donghyuck sits up straight and playfully salutes his leader, hoping to ease some of the tension in the room.
“What made you late anyway?”
Donghyuck internally sighs at Jisung’s question; he was hoping that they could all just forget about his tardiness and get to practicing….which was supposed to start 15 minutes ago.
“I was just..you know…” Donghyuck was struggling to come up with an excuse that was both vague and believable to the members that know him so well.
But before he could even complete his sentence, Chenle cuts him off.
“You were with her, weren’t you?” Chenle shouts and points an accusatory finger in Donghyuck’s direction.
The mere mention of you brings a smile to his face. Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, but the tilt of his head downward, to avoid eye contact, and the smirk on his face, tells his members all they need to know.
Groans and murmurs of frustration can be heard around the practice room once the rest of Dream realizes the reason their beloved member was late.
“Man! I knew it!”
“Our Haechannie is in loveee!”
Donghyuck rolls his eyes, but his annoyed demeanor quickly dissolves as a bashful smile eventually makes a way on his face amidst the teasing.
“Yeah Yeah. Get it all out now.”
A few more teasing comments and Dream finally gets to practicing…only 20 minutes later than planned.
Hours and hours later, Donghyuck anxiously taps his foot as he listens to the choreographer wrap up the practice session. He’s sure the concluding points and improvements are important for him to know, but he can’t draw his attention away from the clock hanging above the mirrors in the practice room.
The sooner they finish up, the sooner he can get home to you-
“Alright, I think that’s all we’ve got for you today. We’ll meet back here tomorrow at the same-“
When the choreographer’s concluding words, Donghyuck jumps up and grabs his stuff, darting out of the practice room.
Mark jumps up to follow him. “Don’t be late tomorrow!” Mark calls after him, but it’s a lost cause, Donghyuck is already too far down the hall to hear his leader.
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
Earlier that morning - 7:45 a.m.
“Please don’t go.” You nestled further into the crook between Donghyuck’s neck and shoulder. He chuckled and pulled you closer, if that was even possible. His legs tangled with yours, arms draped over your waist. Donghyuck doesn’t think it can get much better than this.
“You know I don’t want to baby.” Donghyuck can’t see your pout, but you know you’re sporting one as soon as he finished speaking. He strokes your back in an effort to comfort you, long fingers scaling your back rhythmically, almost lulling you back to sleep. Donghyuck knows you’re not really mad at him; you’ve long accepted his schedule as an idol. It doesn’t make it any easier for him to leave though.
“When do you have to leave again?” You murmur as you lift your head to look at your boyfriend. Heart eyes are practically popping out of Donghyuck’s head as he looks at you. Sleepiness still very evident on your face, but he loves it. He loves you.
“In a few minutes.” An absolute lie. He was supposed to leave about 10 minutes ago. But, he wasn’t ready to leave you, not yet.
“They’ll be mad if you’re late again.” You murmur again, leaning into Donghyuck’s hand that had come up to cup your face.
“They’ll be okay. They can miss me for the first few minutes of practice.” He reassures you with another lie. This will be the third time he’s late to practice within the month. He’s sure he’ll get reprimanded by both his leader and his captain, and he might even have to have a meet with their managers. In the moment though, Donghyuck doesn’t care about any of that. He’s feeling more like a ‘in the moment guy’ right now anyway.
It isn’t until a few minutes later, at 7:55, that Donghyuck finally rolls out of bed, much to your and his despair. He makes a stop in the bathroom to clean himself up a bit- to at least try to look presentable.
Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead- you both exchanging sleepy ‘i love yous’. He lingers longer than he should have (like he did all morning). It takes all his willpower to leave you- he wanted nothing more than to stay.
He sighs and heads out your front door. Despite consequences, Donghyuck thinks anything is worth spending more time with you.
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
a/n: Thank you for reading!! I was inspired by nct 127’s walk dance practice, where hyuck comes in late and then RUNS out at the end hehehe also my haechan brain rot is SO bad rn. love that man.
comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3
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lady-ashfade · 3 months
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A Son For A Son
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´*: ・゚⋆˒ Deamons Bastard!Reader x Yan!Team black. Pt.2
╰・゚✧☽ first fic here.
╰・゚✧☽ summary: the queen has given a order, and craving revenge you expect.
╰・゚✧☽ words: 1k
╰・゚✧☽ warnings: blood & gore, murder and death, reader killing, reader being her father, uncanon events, poison, I just needed to make this.
╰・゚✧☽ DONT READ IF YOU WANNA BE SPOILED: reader does in fact kill aemond in this and idk if you are happy about it, I want his head to take to my queen.
“I want Aemond Targaryen.” she stood before the council covered in dirt and who knows what.
It had been two weeks since the letter about the death of Lucaerys had arrived and you all had been the worst for it. and ever since she searched and searched for a sign of truth, desperate to be wrong. that her sweet boy was alive. you knew he was dead and you wanted everyone to pay for taking luke. you wanted aemond targaryen to pay. you took anger out on the ones you could, or roamed the sky’s to get your mind off of things. you would not act without her orders.
The resemblance you shared to daemon was close and terrifying for your foes. just as you had the idea to fulfill her wishes, your father did too.
“I don’t know what you’re planning,” the sound of your voice made his shoulders fall and a smirk appear on his face, one you couldn’t see. a dark cloak draped over his shoulders and matched the same one across your frame. “but I have a better one.”
“No.” you glare at the back of his head. again denied something worth your talents.
“You can’t tell me what do to this time father.” standing your ground as his eyes turn around, a look he uses when he’s serious. and for him it was like looking into a mirror, you carved blood just like he did and loved getting to spill it. even for no reason at all.
“I have waited around for a task, and she has said she wants Aemond. I mourn the loss of my brother too, and you can not keep me from whatever it is that you think you’re protecting me from.”
Hundreds of men died at the end of your blade at night as you slip throughout the shadows. you were a slayer, a assassin who followed your own roles but loved coin and the game. a story to tell children to make them weep and fear the dark. so how could he still think you are not ready.
“I have let you do what you needed, patrol the blockade against my wishes. or fly alone when our enemies wait to make us weaker” he lectures, “and I will not let them take you.” for a moment you saw a regular father begging for his daughter to stay safe. you aren’t just a daughter now but a soldier in war.
“I would never let them take me,” you step closer and give him a smug look, “I am your daughter after all.”
Instead of going himself, daemon sends you, for the head of the copycat prince.
the castle gates are easy to slip passed with the help of a guard who shares your hatred for the hightowers. and many times, you slip into the keep without getting caught.
“Something told me you’d be here,” his eye glanced at you amused from the cough as his fingertips spin a coin. “It’s as if the gods made me stay here.” aemond unfolded his legs and leaned forward on his knees. many years you hated the way he spoke to you like a interest of his to be claimed like his bitch dragon.
“Then the gods agree you’ll die tonight.”
aemond waited for this moment to finally fight you. he wanted to win and keep you forever as a trophy, a wife who was like him and everyone feared without a doubt. he wasn’t a fool, you are a skilled killer and he needed to bring his all. and some skills stayed in the dark.
a slice in his chest, in his leg and cheek aren’t as bad as he thought when he had you pinned down onto the table. the cold feeling of metal as his hands wrapped around your throat was refreshing. you didn’t try and fight back as he took your breath because the fight was won as soon as it started.
And he should have known you couldn’t be this sloppy.
curling lips up into a devil’s smirk, looking into his eye he feels himself weakened and his grip loosen. the power of letting a man win and wiping all power from beneath their feet was riveting and a hobby. Aemond leaned back and placed his weight onto the couch while trying to keep composure. “You honestly think i wouldn’t have a plan? Make my own rules?” you raise a brow and rub the sore skin of your neck, inching closer while standing up yourself.
“Silent reaper is the name they whisper about me, come in quickly without notice. I always kill my enemies without them awake, but you,” you point and lean down as his eyes become bloodshot, “I want to feel the most pain. And I will enjoy it.” within a few minutes his body starts to leak its own blood. he was quickly taken to death of course, you couldn’t hear his pleads but you’ll satisfy with his death.
guards fall silent when they watch you walk through the halls they don’t even announce your name. white locks lace your fingers and the weight of his head was little and you look like your father with the proud eyes of what you did. the sounds of your footsteps cause the council to glance over but stay with shock. non of them expected to see that and much less out of no where. though, your father seemed pleased and chuckled at the sight.
“The head of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your Grace.” Walking past Jace you set the bloody head on the table as people gawk and flinch. “the poison was my idea, hope you don’t mind.” a second later you yawn of exhaustion and boredom. you look at rhaenrya as her eyes glossed with the revenge you took for her.
“If you’ll excuse me, the ride back was tiring and I wish to get back to my book.” bowing down you flash a “polite” smile and walk away to your chambers with pride and a hand rested on your blade. with everyone wondering what else you would do for the queen,
Your mother.
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apclyptc · 11 months
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DUMB— chris sturniolo x reader
synopsis: reader is smart and top of her class in college. chris however, is not too interested in her intelligence.
warnings: full on smut, swearing and also drinking/smoking, use of the pet name baby, use of the word slut, dumbification, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex
“hit her from the back she can’t do nothing but yell,
and she smart as fuck i got this bitch straight out of yale”
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Ever since you were younger, you seemed to have a gift for memorising and holding information. Because of this, people assumed you studied constantly.
Obviously, you did study. But it wasn’t like you didn’t have a social life. You enjoyed college parties like any other person would.
So when a guy in your class invited you to his frat house for a party, of course you didn’t refuse.
The only thing was, this guy just happened to be Chris.
He was in your social studies class, usually sat at the very back with a couple of his friends in the lecture. You knew of each other, having shared mutual friends from other classes. You’d never really spoken to him one-to-one, mainly because he was always socialising with pretty much everyone, and while you weren’t shy, you also weren’t a huge fan of jumping into conversations with people who all knew each other prior.
It also didn’t help that Chris was the most attractive man you had seen in college, or maybe in your life.
You were good at hiding it, but he made you nervous. Of course, when he invited you to his fraternity house, you faked an air of confidence so you didn’t weird him out.
“Hey, it’s Y/N, right?” Chris began, and when you affirmed with a nod he continued, “I’m throwing a party tonight, you should come.” He threw a smile in your direction, and you pushed down the immediate feeling of giddiness before answering.
“Yeah sure, sounds good. When does it start?” You asked nonchalantly as you could.
“Around 10. You can come whenever, it will be on way into the morning anyway.”
“Great. Am I good to bring a couple friends?” You replied, not wanting to walk into a party alone.
“Yeah that’s fine with me. Ask your friend Lola, my buddy Nate has a thing for her. Just don’t tell him I told you that.” He smirked at you.
That smirk. You wished you could see that smirk while he was hovering over you as he sla—
“Lola, yeah! I’ll bring her along with me.” You snapped out of your less than decent reverie and gave Chris a response.
“Perfect. I’ll see you there, Y/N.” He gave a quick glance up and down your body before turning and walking away from you.
It was then you realised, you had absolutely nothing to wear. Plus, since Chris just personally asked you, you decided you may as well dress as hot as possible.
Y/N: hey lola, frat party tonight?
Lola: do u even have to ask??? usually it’s me dragging u to these things
Y/N: true lmao. i’m gonna need to borrow something from ur closet
Lola: ooooh why, do u need smth slutty?
Y/N: maybe
maybe i was personally invited by the party thrower
Lola: who
Y/N: chris 😇
Lola: GIRL-
ok ok i’ll give u the sluttiest thing i can find
come over later and we can pick something out for u
A couple of hours later once you were finished at college, you headed to your best friend Lola’s dorm.
You two had spent what seemed like hours choosing each other’s outfits.
“By the way, a little birdie told me that Nate has a thing for you.” You eyed Lola up, knowing she had a soft spot for him.
“Oh, really? That’s interesting. Totally unrelated but would you still happen to have that box of condoms I gave you for secret santa last year?” Lola gave you a suggestive look, raising her eyebrows.
“Of course. Already put two in my bag.” You both laughed.
You arrived at the party at 11:27, mainly because no one turns up to a party on time, but also because Lola took a ridiculous amount of time to get ready.
You met up with a couple of girls from the dorms opposite Lola, seeing as they were also invited.
As soon as you arrived, you were immediately shown to the kitchen where an array of bottles were displayed.
Vodka, whiskey, rum, tequila and practically any spirit you could think of, were decorated around the kitchen.
You grabbed two cups, one for you and Lola, and filled it with vodka and soda.
“Hey, I think I see Nate and Chris over there.” Lola points behind you through to the games room, where lo and behold, Nate and Chris were playing what looked like an intense game of beer pong.
The two of you walked over to them, Nate noticing you first.
“Hey! Come help me win the game, Lola.” He gestured for her to play with him.
Chris had then turned around to see you, that smirk appearing yet again.
“You gonna help me?”
You took a quick swig of the contents in your cup before joining Chris at the table.
“Atta girl. Nice of you to bring Lola for my bro.” He spoke in a low voice so that only you could hear.
“Chris, stop flirting and throw the damn ball.” Nate teased, and you felt your cheeks grow red.
Chris threw the ball into the cup closest to him, the object landing into the beer and making a splash.
“Drink up, fool.” he glanced at you to make sure you were watching.
After a while, you had enough to drink to give you a confidence boost, and were now invested in the game of beer pong.
It was down to one cup each, and you had to make the final shot.
“Come on, Y/N,” Chris spoke from behind you, “you got it.”
It was too hard to concentrate with his voice so close to your ear, and his body so close to yours. You threw the ball, but it narrowly missed the cup.
“Yes! Chris you’re a loser!” Nate laughed at his best friend across from the table, throwing his arm around Lola who had locked eyes with you as he did this.
‘Don’t forget the condom’, you mouthed to her playfully, and she winked, pointing to her pocket.
Nate and Lola had then disappeared together, leaving you alone with Chris.
“Sorry I missed the cup.” You joked.
“Apology accepted. You wanna smoke with me?” He pulled out a perfectly rolled joint from his pocket.
You weren’t a huge smoker, only joining with Lola occasionally when you felt like unwinding.
Nevertheless you agreed, deciding you may as well since you were at a party.
Chris lead you upstairs into his room. Your eyes immediately glanced around the room, taking in its appearance.
Chris sat on the edge of his bed, and you followed.
“Could you get my lighter, it’s in the top drawer over there.” He pointed to the bedside table at the wall, and you grabbed the device, passing it to him which he thanked you for.
“Lola and Nate seem to hit it off.” You spoke.
Chris held the joint between his lips, lighting it before replying, “he’s down bad for her. Has been for a while.”
You giggled to yourself, knowing Lola felt the same about him. It was a good feeling for you, because you knew Nate was a nice guy.
“They’re a good match. Nate’s a good guy for her." You responded, watching Chris take the first hit of weed and exhaling the thick smoke.
“Yeah? Is that what you’re into? Nice guys?” He asked you, taking another hit before passing it to you.
You took the joint from his hand and inhaled.
“I guess. I think I prefer someone more… unpredictable.” You had Chris in mind as you answered. You had yet to figure out why he invited you here himself, since you didn’t know each other that well.
“In what way?”
“I don’t know, someone I can’t figure out. I like to be kept on my feet, someone like Nate is easy to understand because he’s straightforward. Which is great for Lola, she deserves someone who is like that.” You thought about all the past few guys Lola had a thing with. They weren’t that nice.
You passed the joint back to Chris who had his eyes trained on you as you spoke.
“So you like the tension, not knowing when or if someone wants you.” He tried to understand.
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice when it’s easy. But..” You trailed off.
“It’s more fun not to know.” Chris finished your trail of thought as if he knew the feeling.
“Exactly.”
A comfortable silence sat between you, passing the joint back and forth until it was gone.
“I have a question.” You asked, breaking the silence.
Chris tapped the joint out on his bedside table, and brought his attention back to you, “Go ahead.”
“Why did you invite me here? I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want to come, it’s just that we haven’t really talked much.” You asked, needing to know.
Chris chuckled.
“I thought it was more fun not to know?” He smirked, using your own logic against you.
“Come on! Tell me.” You persisted.
Chris leaned in closer to you, and you could swear your heart was beating out of your chest.
“I always see you in class,” He began to explain, continuing to close the gap between you, “sitting close to the front, answering all the questions. You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”
The tension was palpable, and you felt yourself grow wetter as his low voice penetrated your ears.
“I want an answer.” He demanded.
“I- I guess so.” Your voice wavered, all of a sudden finding it hard to speak.
“I’ve always wanted to see how long it takes until I can make you speechless.”
And it surely didn’t take long, because in moments his lips were on yours.
It was as if every guy you had dated never existed, the feeling of Chris kissing you overrode any experience you had thus far.
His left hand rested on the back of your neck while his other hand took the opportunity to roam around your body, from your thighs to your chest, until it landed on your waist.
Your hands swiftly made their way to his arm and hair, while deepening the kiss he had started.
In a quick movement he lifted you onto his lap, letting both his hands find purchase on your waist.
With your arms wrapped around his neck, you slowly moved your hips rhythmically, earning a soft grunt from him.
Pulling away, he spoke, “You want to do this?”
You nodded, before asking the same of him.
“Do you?”
That same smirk that sent you reeling reappeared again.
“Does this answer your question?” He grinded his hips upwards into you, allowing you to feel his growing hard-on.
A whine escaped from your lips.
“No more talking.”
You reconnected your lips to his, the energy of the room turning into heated passion.
Chris’ hands slowly dragged down to your ass, kneading them with roughness.
You whined again, unable to stop any sounds from leaving your mouth.
The sound of the ongoing party downstairs could be faintly heard from inside the room, but you paid it no mind. You couldn’t, not while Chris had all his attention on you.
He briefly paused to take off the top you were wearing, and then resumed with his skilled tongue, sliding against yours. He took you off his lap, not separating from you for a moment as he laid you down on your back.
“Such a smart girl in class,” he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it behind him, “Does anyone know that you’re really just a little slut?” He kissed your neck, then your jaw.
“I need an answer.” Chris demanded again, and you rubbed your thighs together in want.
“No.” You breathed.
“No, what?” His hand glided up your thigh, separating them.
“I’m not a slut.” You managed to find words.
“So if I reach in between your legs, right now, you won’t be dripping for me?”
You knew you were.
A hand snaked through your skirt, pulling aside your underwear, and he slowly dragged a finger down your pussy.
“I’ve barely touched you. Do you want me to? Want me to touch you right here?” His finger, coated in your slickness, inched its way inside, just enough for you to feel it, but not enough to satisfy you.
You bucked your hips up, trying to feel something, anything.
But Chris pulled his hand away, causing you to whine in frustration.
Luckily for you, he wanted to feel you so badly, he couldn’t tease you for long. He grabbed the hem of your skirt, pulling it down your legs and threw it in the same direction as his shirt.
“I want to hear you. You love opening that mouth when we’re in class.” And with that, he pulled your underwear aside and attached his mouth straight to your throbbing clit.
All you could do was moan and writhe in his bed as he delved into your wet cunt, licking up all the arousal like a starved man.
Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on it desperately. The vibrations from the groan that left his mouth sent waves of pleasure tearing through your body.
Chris’ hands dug into the flesh of your thighs as they instinctively tried to close around his head.
“Fuck, right there!” You moaned loudly as his tongue dove inside your hole.
One of his hands left your thigh and drew circles on your clit, causing you to arch your back at the white-hot pleasure you felt from his ministrations.
Chris could feel his dick pulsate through his pants at the sounds you were making. He needed to feel you.
“You want me to fuck you, huh? Fill you up good?” He asked, and you knew by now he wanted an answer.
“Please, please, please.” Were the only words you could muster, too high on the feeling Chris had given you with his mouth.
He wasted no time on giving you what you were begging for, quickly discarding his pants and boxers, along with your bra and soaked panties.
Lining himself up with your entrance, he slid his dick over the slick of your pussy and pushed the tip in.
Your eyes had shut in anticipation, but when he made no attempt to move you opened your eyes to look at him.
He had waited until you made eye contact with him before pushing his entire dick inside you.
You both moaned at the full feeling, your walls contracting around him.
After a few seconds, Chris began to move.
Thrusting in and out at a slow pace as if to torture you, he shuddered, revelling in the feeling of your tight cunt.
“Fuck, feels so good baby.” You whined at the pet name, bringing his face down so you could kiss him again.
He started picking up the pace after this, your tongues smashing together in absolute need.
“Faster, faster.” You babbled, drunk off the sensation of his cock piston in and out of you.
“Yeah? You want me to fuck you dumb?” He grunted, loving how you could barely string full sentences together.
“Yes, yes, please. Need you deeper.”
The dirty words spilling from your mouth caused him to moan, and he flipped you onto all fours.
“Wanna see that pretty little ass bounce while I fuck you.” He muttered as he entered you yet again.
His pace was relentless, his balls slapping against you from the way he was pounding deep inside you.
You were just making sounds as you tried to say “Harder, faster, more,” but the words couldn’t form properly.
“The slut wants more? Can’t even speak but you’re begging for more?” He taunted you from behind.
You felt a sharp slap on your ass, followed by a soothing rub directly after. You practically yelled as Chris’ hand came down, your cunt convulsing.
“Knew you’d like that,” he slapped your cheek again, “Can feel you squeezing around me.”
You could feel the knot in your stomach unraveling, and you knew you wouldn’t last longer.
“Chris, gonna cum.” You managed to speak between moans.
“Come on baby, need you to cum while I’m inside you.” He groaned, trying to hold his own release off.
His words guided you right to your orgasm, shaking and crying while you came.
“Fuck, you want my cum inside you? Want me to stuff you full?” His pace was losing rhythm, chasing his orgasm while simultaneously overstimulating you.
“Mm, cum inside me. Want to feel it.” You cried, thrusting into him so you could feel more of him.
“So good, feels so good. Oh, I’m gonna cum inside of you,” Chris rambled, “Gonna fill you up with it.”
His moans were uncontrollable, spilling out of him as he relished in the warm feeling of your pussy.
“Cumming.” He grunted, as ropes of his cum spurted out, coating your insides until there was nothing left.
You both took the time to catch your breath, as Chris pulled out of you with a shaky sigh.
“Let me get you a towel.”
You turned onto your back once more, trying to comprehend the mind blowing sex you just had while dozens of people were partying downstairs.
Chris came back with a towel, cleaning the both of you up and passing you your underwear back.
“Hey.” You finally spoke, tired from all the stamina you had just burned.
“Hey.” He replied back to you.
“That was… amazing.” You sighed.
“Yeah, it was fun.”
You weren’t sure if he wanted you to leave now, or if you were supposed to stay, so you opted to do nothing.
“Let me take you on a date.” He announced, and you laughed.
“Don’t you think we’ve done this all a little backwards?”
Chris smiled and brought your head to his shoulder.
“I guess I’m just unpredictable.”
You then remembered you didn’t even use the condom you brought with you. You’d have to make your first date with Chris a trip to the pharmacy.
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a/n haha…. always wear a condom, kids!
hope you enjoyed my first oneshot.
send me any requests you want me to write! i think i’m gonna do an nsfw alphabet next, for chris and matt too
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bellawoso · 4 months
Text
everywhere
aitana bonmati x reader
a/n : the sleeveless training top kills me every time i see it
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aitana had been obsessed impressed with you ever since the 2021 games of barcelona vs arsenal, although she knew that she should be overcome by feelings of pride for her teams winnings, she couldnt help but let her small crush on you get in the way of her celebrations.
sure she was tired after the match, but so was everyone else, and they still managed to have a night out in the london bars. aitana however, spent all night stalking your instagram account on a random fake account she had, normal behaviour right?
after the 2022 euros knockout match, where england were victorious, aitanas crush which she thought was gone, came back even bigger when instead of immediately celebrating with your teammates, you instead went to the nearest spanish player to you, which happened to be the spaniard herself, and started consoling her. your hand on her back made her skin tingle, and momentarily she almost forgot about the loss when you whispered into her ear how she played a good game, before bringing her in for a warm embrace. aitana didnt waste the chance of wrapping her arms round your waist as yours went around her neck.
the brunette wouldnt be surprised if she dropped down with a heart attack right there when you requested for a shirt swap, with you both being number 6 nationally. seeing her name sprawled across your back definitely didnt ease her racing heart or her flushed cheeks.
———
the next time you saw the spaniard was at the world cup final, although you were out with your ACL injury at the time, you still wouldnt miss this match for the world. as soon as england lost you were straight onto the pitch, comforting your national teammates, who were about to see spain being crowned world champions.
you were just about to go talk to lucy, a close friend of yours from national camps, until aitana stepped in your path. you had grown quite fond of the girl, despite the fact you had never played for the same teams, you both respected each other greatly, and often congratulated each other through instagram of the others achievements. you werent quite ready for the girl stepping out in front of you, you were still on crutches, almost ready to come off them, the spaniard just clipped your crutch with her boot causing you to tumble forward slightly. luckily the brunette was ready to catch you, her strong arms gripping onto your waist whilst she repeated “lo siento” and lectured her self in spanish, until you cut her off “hola aita, good game you deserve this so much, i know how hard you worked to get here.”
“ah yes- gracias y/n, i am upset you dont play today, im sure you would have made a difference” aitana managed to get out, in slightly broken english but you found it extremely endearing.
“yes i am sad too, but i will be back for the euros before you know it! so, balon d’or huh?” you said with a grin, it was extremely obvious that the girl you was talking to was going to be a future balon d’or winner, despite her humble nature as she argued with you, saying there are other people who deserve it more than her.
until you cut off her rambling once again “aita it was so lovely catching up with you, but im positive all of your teammates are waiting for you to celebrate, i wouldnt want to keep you” you stated with a soft smile and a glance at ona who waited behind aitana, and seemed to have finished consoling lucy.
as aitana turned to walk away, you started walking over to lucy, painfully unaware of the extremely obvious glances aitana kept giving you over her shoulder, the spaniard prayed you didnt hear onas teasing.
———
it was around the start of december when you began playing again, helping by scoring 2 goals in the 4-1 win against chelsea. it was unsurprising how you had ended up on barcas radar, it was very unusual for a player to somehow be better than they were pre-ACL, after only just returning. it was safe to say that aitana had watched every single arsenal game since you returned, even on the ones where you didnt play, just to catch a glimpse of you on the bench. the other girls on her team had noticed this, and despite aitanas insistence that it was to keep up with the WSL and to check on laia codina, her teammates werent stupid. and it was painfully obvious every time aitanas breath hitched when you were displayed on the screen, which was quite often as you were a fan favourite.
you had also developed a bit of a fan-girling crush on the spaniard herself, it was hard not to when you saw her training pictures on her story daily, and couldnt help but wonder what you would have to do to be blessed enough to witness her training in real life.
clearly you didnt have to do much, as your manager called you one day to talk about potential transfers, one immediately stood out to you, barcelona.
it all happened very quickly in your opinion, although your manager disagreed as barcelona were actually being quite annoying with offering you a contract as they were constantly holding it until last minute. until finally they managed to sit you down with pen and paper, for you to begin your new journey with them. the media followed shortly after, barcelona and arsenal seemingly decided to just dump all of your departure and new arrival videos on every single social media platform they had.
aitana was at home when the media teams dropped your videos, immediately clicking on the notification from barcelonas instagram. she had been waiting for a while for keiras fully edited catalan interview to be posted, so she was visibly shocked when instead she was met with the sight of you in the barca home kit.
aitana definitely knew she was down bad when she couldnt fall asleep that night, her thoughts clouded of you in that stupid home kit, even better, in the barca tracksuit you had worn for your interviews.
she quickly sent you an short instagram message just to say ‘hola, welcome to barca amiga :)’ before finally managing to fall asleep.
———
your arrival was soon after, and despite your initial worry of not fitting in to the team, you soon learned that you got along fine with the girls after your first training session. from the very beginning aitana clung to you, immediately becoming your bestfriend on the team and promising to take you to all of the best hidden gems in barcelona. it was amusing to the team of how obvious aitana was being and how oblivious you were to it all.
such as the day where aitana was hit twice on the head by a football after not hearing the shout of “heads” while staring at you with heart eyes as you laughed with ona.
or when she was still running laps and warming up with keira whilst you had a 1 v 1 with lucy, and she ran into a goal post. she never truly lived that one down, and the whole team new about it as she had to go down to medical with a minor concussion and miss the next match due to her headache.
the bonus was that you were too scared to leave aitana at her apartment by herself after reading up about concussions online, so you stayed with her for a week. which was longer than necessary, but aitana didnt need to know the real reason for your insistence to stay.
the most recent thing to happen was when she dropped a weight on keiras foot in the gym when she saw you walk in, looking particularly good in the training kit today, this action made the english girl snap, telling aitana to just go admit her feelings, whilst cursing under her breath and walking to the medical room for an ice pack.
lucy came up behind aitana after keira left, chuckling about the previous incident but also to reassure the spaniard “dont worry aitana, ive known y/n for ages, she likes you back, trust me” she said, making aitana nod and turn on her heels to confidently and calmly walk over to you, as you were currently near the mats with ingrid.
except this didnt happen, as aitana didnt seem very confident or calm at all as she tripped as she neared you, causing her to stumble straight into you, sending the both of you tumbling straight to the floor.
“dios mío! lo siento y/n, i dont know what happened!” you stayed on the floor laughing about what just happened, as vicky came over “i think i know what happened, aitana just fell for y/n!” the younger girl shouted for the entire gym to hear like the pest she was, causing both you and aitana to flush bright red, still on the floor.
until aitana leaned over to you “while were still down here, will you please go on a date with me?” she asked giving her best puppy dog eyes.
“i would love to aita”
———
you and aitana went on the date on saturday, the brunette had chosen for the two of you to go to a coffee shop in the little town where she was raised, you could tell just how proud and passionate she was of where she was born. at first, things were a bit awkward between the two of you, until you fell back into your usual rhythm of chatting and laughing.
except for when aitana bumped into someone she knew from her youth, and stumbled a bit over her words when introducing you, the words “shes my girl-” coming out of her mouth before blushed cut her self off and ended up blurting out “y/n, shes my y/n” with an awkward, toothy grin.
this made you burst out laughing, at aitanas newfound social awkwardness, and the strangers confusion, it was only after they walked away that you playfully bumped your shoulder against hers, saying “if you wanted to be my girlfriend you could have just asked” with a smirk.
“cállate! muy molesta-“ as she carried on with her spanish rambling making you smile at seeing her worked up state until she suddenly asked “wait were you being serious that i can ask to be your girlfriend?”
“well normally back in england we dont ask the person for permission to ask them to be our girlfriend, but whatever suits you tana!” you answered back playfully.
“fine then! i wont ask if your going to be all sarcastic about it” the older girl replied. “sure you wont aita, sure.” taking a sip from your water bottle while the brunette seemed to be giving you the silent treatment
“be my girlfriend” she suddenly stated, making you choke on your water “thats really not how we ask back in england, spain must be very different” you thought aloud.
“stop it! just confirm it with me, we are basically dating all ready!” aitana huffed in faux frustration about how annoying you were being about this. “okay, okay! i would love to be your girlfriend then aitana.” this made her grin, so you were guessing you were in the good girlfriend books at the moment.
you and aitana went on many more dates after that, the two of you fit so perfectly. although you were both extremely talented footballers, aitana was always very work focused, whereas you got bored of things like match analysis very easily. where aitana was extroverted around new people, you were usually very quiet around strangers. you both balanced each other out very well, aitana often having to help you with your match analysis, and you being the one to get aitana to bed at the right time instead of letting her rewatch the match again.
———
one thing that aitana never really seemed to grow out of was the honeymoon stage, after two months of being together openly, she really should have got used to the fact that you were hers and she was yours. however, the spaniard never quite got over the fact that the two of you were actually together, especially after crushing in you for the past couple of years.
this led to her quite literally just trailing around after you everywhere, like a lost puppy. when you finally snapped and told her to go to keira, and socialise with her friends, said lost puppy suddenly became a kicked puppy that looked like you just abandoned it on the side of the road.
“but amorrrr, i wont bother you! i promise!” she begged, giving you her best puppy dog eyes.
“aitana no! you have hardly spoke to your friends all week, and although i love you, your starting to really annoy me!” you said. your girlfriend had already dropped a dumbell on your ankle after she decided she needed to do her arm workouts right next to your workout mat. she had then spilt coffee all over you, which although she claims is all okay now as she gave you her hoodie to replace your top, you never quite got over the sticky coffee feeling in your skin.
your last straw was when she decided to try trail right behind you into your meeting with jonatan and some of the other coaches, solely a checkup and a one to one meeting about things to work on in training.
“aitana no! go to keira please, i love you but this is a one on one meeting, your not allowed to be in here” you didnt leave time for her to argue as you quickly planted a kiss on her lips and went into the room, shutting the door straight behind you.
you were never normally one to reject your girlfriends clinginess, however sometimes you just needed your own personal space, and today was an odd day where things werent going right and your temper was short.
you were going to apologise to aitana, but as soon as you came out of your meeting she was there with flowers and coffee for you, and saying sorry for annoying you today. “aitana no, its fine, if anything, i am sorry. i love being around you as your my girlfriend, but i do think its important you start hanging out with your friends again!”
“yes amor i understand, i actually went with ona to get the flowers and she got some for lucy too!” aitana replied, as she planted a kiss on your lips.
on the way home, aitana also called at one of your favourite shops that sold books and records. despite her being more of a spotify and film person, she still made an effort to be enthusiastic in the shop. she definitely did not get bored and decide to pull you in for a kiss behind the non fiction book shelf.
however, she still never really left her honeymoon phase.
———
yourusername
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liked by ingrid_engen, lucybronze and 23,962 others
caption: she follows me everywhere but its okay tagged: aitanabonmati
comments:
aitanabonmati: you love it
-> yourusername: i do.
lucybronze: you two make me throw up
-> yourusername: dont act like you and ona arent the same.
marialeonn16: i counted 3 balls to aitanas head yesterday training
-> vickyylopezz._: she fell over aswell 😭
-> yourusername: guys leave tana alone! 🥹
-> aitanabonmati: what my gf said.
user1: they are so cute omg 😭
user2: power couple!
user3: best woso couple there is
———
a/n: this is not proofread so no judgement to bad grammar pretty pleasee
465 notes · View notes
paradiseprincesss · 4 months
Note
Omg omggg I love having people to talk about our favorite supervillain!!!🥹🥹 I want to talk about this concept!! Hehe
Jonathan Crane would sooo love having an innocent gf, like just imagine Y/n being a family friend of Rachel’s, she’s a student teacher (studying to be a kindergarten teacher) and is living with Rachel through her collage years and meets Jon when some of Rachel’s court paperwork gets mixed up with Y/n’s teacher ones, like imagine she’s rushing to get them to Rachel and literally runs INTO Jonathan but gets knocked over and the papers go flying because he is a TALL man lmao. She’s profusely apologizing and Jonathan just has his eyebrows raised in confusion and a frown, which then turns into a smirk when she says she’s looking for her friend Rachel (Jonathan sees an opportunity to use Y/n to get to Rachel) Omggg but like imagine Y/n being oblivious to the danger and is just so sweet and adorable to Jonathan that he can’t go through with it🥹
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His court look🔥🔥🔥
Who allowed him to be this gorgeous (and insane) WHO????
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tattooed heart - jonathan crane x reader
masterlist
notes: i did not specify the readers major sorry sorry! but i had tattooed heart on repeat while writing this and i was like that song is jonathan cranes gf coded.
word count: 5.9k
summary: you're rachel dawes's college-aged childhood best friend and roommate, and one day your lecture notes get mixed up with her court documents. in a rush to bring the correct papers to her at the courthouse, you bump into none other than doctor jonathan crane.
warnings: smut 18+ mdni, swearing, kissing, p in v, creampie and general smut lol
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as you were getting ready for the day, you applied your blush in the mirror, cheeks all rosy and pink, matching your soft pink nails. perfect, you thought to yourself as you added the final touches to your makeup, and looked through your closet for something to wear.
rummaging through your wardrobe, you settle on a white and pink floral print mini dress, perfect for summer, and pair it with some white stilettos. you did your hair up in your favourite hairstyle, and sprayed yourself with your favourite perfume.
you were getting ready to go to brunch with your girlfriends as it was a gorgeous day outside, and the girls from your college were planning to have a little get together. as you were grabbing your purse, your phone started to go off. looking at the screen, you notice it was your long time friend, rachel.
you were currently rooming with her since you were in college full-time, and the two of you were super close - inseparable, honestly. she had told you that you could move in with her, as she had a two bedroom home but she lived there alone.
the two of you go way back - she used to babysit you when you were younger, as her mother was best friends with yours. despite her being almost a decade older than you, you guys got along wonderfully. you had known each other ever since you were young, and the longstanding friendship between you two was something you both cherished deeply.
“hello?” you say, answering the phone.
“hey, so please don't hate me," she whines over the phone, "but i accidentally grabbed your papers instead of my court documents, i must've gotten them mixed up this morning."
"shoot - uh, okay. i'll be there in like twenty minutes and i'll bring them to you. where are they?" you ask her.
"the dining table, or somewhere in the kitchen - gotta go, see you in a bit. love you, your the best!" she says, hanging up.
sighing, you collect her stack of papers from the dining table, and grab your purse as you head out. the drive to the courthouse luckily wasn't too far off from where you were supposed to meet your friends, as the restaurant was only about a five minute drive from there.
putting your car into park, you grab her belongings along with yours, and step out your car, locking it behind you. as your high heels clicked against the ground, you looked around to see if maybe you could spot her. the inside of the courthouse was busy, and you were trying to find her as quick as possible since you knew this was a time sensitive matter.
you look through hallways and doorways, but didn't see rachel anywhere. you continue to pace up and down the halls, peering into empty rooms, trying to spot her. finally - you saw her standing at the end of a hallway near the back of the courthouse, and you rush over to her in your stilettos.
suddenly, with an "oof," you felt the wind get knocked out of you as the papers went flying. luckily, you didn't fall or anything, but every single sheet of paper did. as you glanced up, you noticed a very tall, (and very handsome) man in a suit and tie with glasses - and intoxicatingly blue eyes. the man stood at a good height of around six foot three, and managed to tower over you even with your high heels on.
"i-i'm so sorry." you say, flustered.
the handsome stranger raises a brow at you, seemingly irritated. he didn't appear to be too friendly, and he spoke sharply after you apologized. "you should really be more careful." he says to you, leaning down to help you grab your papers.
"o-of course," you stammer as he hands you the papers, "thank you, i'm sorry again. i was just in such a rush to get these to my friend, rachel, over there." you point to rachel, who finally noticed you, and ushered you over.
"miss dawes?" he asks, his tone shifting to something more curious, "you're a friend of hers?"
"she's known me ever since i was in elementary school. she mixed her papers up with my lecture notes this morning, so hence why i'm here bringing these to her." you say innocently, holding up the court documents. "i'm sorry, again."
he eyed you curiously for a moment, before smirking slightly. "that's quite alright. i never got your name, actually."
you tell him your name, and he responds to you once more, but his tone seemingly shifted into one much softer than before. "beautiful name, really."
before you had a chance to react, who you presumed to be another lawyer had rushed over to the two of you before speaking to jonathan.
"doctor crane, you're needed in the courtroom. mr. zsasz's legal team would like a word." he says in a hushed manner, before making his way back into the courtroom he came from.
"wait, you're jonathan crane?" you ask him with surprise.
you'd heard a lot about his work, it was phenomenal. he had made multiple headlines with his breakthroughs in psychology and psychopharmacology. his name was plastered on papers and articles, and he was very well-known in gotham for his achievements in his field, especially at only thirty-two years old.
"indeed i am." he says softly, and you could've sworn you saw fight back a smile.
"'i've heard about your work, it's incredible what you're doing." you tell him, to which he simply shakes his head.
"i respect the mind's power over the body," he says to you simply, "it's why i do what i do."
for a moment, you swore time stopped as the two of you locked eyes; his electrifyingly blue ones staring right into yours. however, that moment was cut short as a voice you recognized called out behind you.
"there you are!" rachels voice brings you out of your thoughts, causing you to turn around, "i told you to come over there, carl wanted to say hi." she points to carl finch, who was waving at you from a distance before returning to his conversation with someone else.
"right, sorry. i accidentally bumped into jonathan." you say with a smile, glancing at him, but rachel doesn't seem too happy to see him.
"doctor crane." she says as she acknowledges him unenthusiastically, clearly unimpressed with his presence.
"miss. dawes." he says back, just as annoyed, before changing his tone back to sweet and soft as he looks at you. "i'm afraid i have some matters to attend to, however, it was lovely meeting you. perhaps be a little more careful on your way out - don't want you bumping into anyone else." he said almost teasingly, before swiftly going back to where he was needed.
you smile to yourself, staring at the tall man as he walked away.
"don't tell me you bumped into jonathan crane of all people." rachel says, and you raise your brow.
"what? he seems nice, honestly." you tell her, but to that she scoffs.
"nice? god, no. i'm surprised he didn't rip you to shreds for bumping into him." she tells you, clearly irritated at just the thought of him. "i find it strange, you know. every time i try to get one of falcone's thugs locked up, he somehow gets the court to agree that their insane, and puts them into arkham."
as she was telling you this, it was going in one ear and right out the other, as your mind was too busy with the racing thoughts of doctor jonathan crane. his intoxicating smile, his baby blue eyes, everything about him was gorgeous - not to mention his height!
now, jonathan on the other hand, was thinking of you for an entirely different reason. yes, he found you to be pretty - beautiful, actually, he thought you were stunning, but that didn't stop him from seeing you as a means to get to rachel. jonathan crane was an opportunist, he was already plotting the second you told him you and rachel were practically sisters.
he figured that if he got close to you, he would get closer to rachel - meaning it would be easier to take her down and get her to stop sniffing around. he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to do it yet - though he had a few plans that he'd thought of. his first idea was to threaten you, scare you into giving information over about her, perhaps if he scared you enough, you would tell rachel to stop meddling with his plans.
but that didn't seem airtight enough. however...there was another idea that struck him - and it seemed to be the safer (and smarter) option. he would make you believe that he was falling for you, get you to trust him - and then once he had your heart in his hands, use you as leverage to get rachel to stay out of his way.
it was simple, really. he wasn't going to seriously harm you, just kidnap you once you let your guard down, then use you as ransom (hm, more like hostage) to persuade rachel to step down from any current and future cases where he had to act as an expert witness.
"are you listening?" rachels voice brought you back to reality, and you nod while she looks through her papers. "yeah - sorry, i'm late to this thing i have with my friends. i gotta go." you say, waving goodbye to her and checking your phone, realizing you needed to leave.
you swiftly drove over to brunch with your girlfriends, and the whole time, you found yourself fixated on the thought of jonathan. there was something about him, something that made your heart swell. perhaps it was his gorgeous eyes, or maybe it was that stunningly chiseled face - whatever it may be, he had a hold on your heart, that was for sure.
after saying your goodbyes to your friends after brunch, you headed off to the grocery store to run some errands. the sun was shining brightly, and the weather was gorgeous, so you decided to spend as much of your day outside as you could. as you were grabbing some apples from one of the produce bins, you turned around and-
ugh, not again!
you felt your body collide into someone else's, and you internally slapped yourself; why twice in one day?!
as you were about to start profusely apologizing, you noticed that you were eye level with a very familiar suit and tie - looking up, you see none other than jonathan crane; and this time, he's actually smiling.
"clumsy one, aren't you?" he teases, and you blush.
"i just can't seem to escape you, i guess," you say back, your pink blush accentuating the apples of your cheeks, "i didn't expect to literally bump into you again so soon."
"i had to run some errands, figured i'd do it after the whole court thing." he says. "actually, i never had the chance to ask you for your number."
when he said that, you started to actually blush profusely, and you managed to stammer out a response. "o-oh, yeah, right."
"yeah so, can i grab it from you?" he asked teasingly, with a small smile.
"o-oh, yes totally." you say, flustered, and he gives you his phone to put your contact information into. after taking it back from you, he asked you a question. "are you busy at all tonight? i know it's a long shot, but..."
"i'm not, actually," you say back, "i don't have any classes for the next few days, it's a reading break."
"well, in that case - how about you join me for dinner tonight?" he asks softly, and you could feel your heart racing.
"yeah, that works. just text me the details then?" you say.
"will do," he says, shamelessly checking you out once more, "try not to bump into anyone else, seriously." he playfully teases, and you laugh softly.
that same evening, you had finished getting ready for your date with jonathan. you opted for a classy, but sexy, look for tonight, and threw on your favourite heels. with your hair freshly done and your makeup on point, you felt pretty - you looked pretty.
spraying on a few spritz of your favourite perfume, you grab your purse and head outside of your place to meet jonathan, as he had texted you that he was here. you felt your stomach do little flips on your way to his car, and even though you were a grown woman, you still felt like a silly school girl with a crush around him.
you spotted his car parked outside your apartment building - a brand new, 3 series bmw with blackout tinting, and gun metal coloured paint. stepping to the passenger door, he reaches over and pushes it open for you, and you get in.
"wow," he says softly, "you look gorgeous, darling."
his tone (and words, duh) made you blush, and you notice he's still in a suit - just a slightly different one, and this time, no sweater vest. "thank you," you say sweetly, "you look really good, too."
"ah, i appreciate it, darling." he tells you, smiling as he speeds off onto the road, driving ever so recklessly - which you thought was hot.
the night went flawlessly, jonathans plan was definitely working out the way he had hoped. the two of you talked endlessly over multiple glasses of wine and dinner, really getting to know each other on a personal level.
he told you all about his time in college, and why he chose to work in the field of psychology, which you found fascinating. you had always liked a mature, well spoken, and intelligent man. you'd told him about your current major, the classes you were taking and your passion for it, which he found endearing. he thought you were absolutely intelligent and found you extremely well spoken for someone your age.
you were just so...sweet. so kind, affectionate, and innocent. again, even if you didn't look that innocent, your personality shone through your exterior - and my goodness did he think you were adorable. your kindness was unmatched.
now, jonathan had originally set this plan into motion to take rachel down (obviously), but he found himself getting slightly distracted with you. sure, he wanted nothing more than to get rachel dawes to stop sniffing around his rather illegal and criminal activities, however, you were far more interesting than he had originally thought. yes, he thought you were jaw-dropping, stunning, gorgeous, angelic (the list just goes on...) when he first met you, but he simply thought you were a pretty face and nothing more.
but boy, was he wrong. you were so much more than that, you were magnificent in his eyes. he was wondering how the hell you didn't already have a boyfriend, as it seemed someone like you would have men lining up just to have a chance with you.
you were thinking the same thing, unbeknownst to him. it was insane, really. he was undeniably handsome, and my goodness was he smart - a man dedicated to his job and passions, so brilliant and ambitious, but yet he didn't have a woman in his life. you thought surely the universe was on your side when it caused the two of you to cross paths.
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it had been approximately a month since you and jonathan had gone on your first date - and many more followed. the two of you were enamoured with each other, unable to leave one another alone. he was a busy man, he worked a lot - but he made exceptions when it came to you. he'd never done that before.
he mentally cursed at himself for acting like a lovesick fool, but fuck, he couldn't stop himself if he tried. for a man with such self control; he lost all his inhibitions when it came to you. he was so cold, so calculated and cynical...was he not? well, not around you. his cold, frozen heart was melting, and he hated it - sort of.
he hated that you happened to be the one person he was going to use as a pawn in order to get to rachel - but on the other hand, he couldn't deny how he felt. he always thought love was a waste of time, why be in a relationship when there is no use for such a thing? hm, well - you changed his mind on that, too. he wanted so desperately to be your man, the one for you. the one who got to hold you at night, for you to be the one he came home to after a particularly stressful day at work, the one with his last name - ugh, he was turning soft! and of course it had to be with you of all people.
tonight, jonathan had been working late when suddenly, a guard had knocked on his office door.
"yes?" he asked curtly, "what is it?"
the officer sighed as he opened the office door, "miss dawes from the DA's office is here to see you. she has more questions."
"tell her that i do not have the time for any more silly questions-"
"she brought that girl you always talk about with her."
"...i will be there shortly." he says, sighing as he puts his glasses back on.
okay so, jonathan may have let it slip that he was going out with you to his coworker a few weeks ago. this one coworker had asked him if he could help file a report, but jonathan had a date with you that night, so he had casually said something along the lines of "no, i've got a date with this girl," and the coworker was shocked.
jonathan crane was going on a date? and he was telling people about it? that was huge news, and it soon turned into workplace gossip. jonathan was seething but i mean, he did it to himself, and this was the exact reason why he always kept his personal life separate from work.
jonathan made his way down from his office to go see rachel and you. he wasn't sure why you were here, but he didn't care. it didn't matter as long as he got to see you.
"miss dawes," he says, walking up to her, whilst softly smiling at you. however, once he looked back at her, his stone cold demeanour returned. "this is most irregular - i have nothing further to add to the report i've filed with the judge."
"i have questions about your report." she says nonchalantly, and you watch the interaction between the two of them.
you had driven her here, as her car was currently at the mechanics for maintenance, you had offered. that's what best friends do, after all. you'd insisted that you wait in the car for her, as you didn't want to come off as intruding on him at work, but she said it wasn't safe for you to wait all alone, in the dark, in gotham at an asylum parking lot. you couldn't lie - she had a point.
"uh, i'm just going to wait in the car, i think." you say to them both quietly, but rachel shakes her head. "nonsense, i'll only be a minute. like i said, i have questions, doctor crane."
"such as?" he asks.
"isn't it convenient for a fifty-two year old man who has no history of mental illness to suddenly have a complete psychotic breakdown just when he's about to be indicted?" she sneers, and he stares at her with a cold, emotionless stare.
"well, as you can see for yourself, there's nothing convenient about his symptoms." he says smoothly, and you notice behind the glass window, who appears to be carmine falcone is on a medical bed, incoherently mumbling to himself.
the two of them continue their little verbal quarrel, and you couldn't help but feel a little out of place, and perhaps, a little awkward as well as you watched the man you were falling in love with and your best friend argue over this.
eventually, rachel had threatened him saying she had paged another doctor at county general to go over falcones toxicology report, as she wanted to know exactly what crane had put him on. jonathan looked like he was holding his tongue, and you could tell he was getting irritated - you could see it in the way he was clenching his jaw silently.
he softly looked over at you, saying your name sweetly. "would you care to join me downstairs, darling?" he says, then turns back to rachel, looking annoyed. "perhaps we should discuss this another time, miss dawes."
"she is not going anywhere, especially with you." rachel sneered, and you huffed.
"okay, enough. i think we should all just take a breather, and just chill for a second. i'll be back, okay rachel? i told jonathan- er, doctor crane, that i was intrigued about his work here. he just wants to show me around; i asked the last time i saw him." you tell her, looking between her and jonathan.
rachel knew that you had been seeing him, and she was supportive (well, as best as she could be) since she adored you, but she despised him. she just couldn't wrap her around how someone as diabolical as him could get along with someone as sweet as you.
"fine, okay." she sighs, and jonathan softly takes your hand in his, leading you to an elevator that looked to be quite old and rigid, but you pushed it aside.
he took a key and turned it, as wherever he was taking you was clearly a restricted access area, and the two of you stood side by side, hand in hand as the elevator went downstairs.
yes - this was all part of jonathans plan to cut rachel out of the picture, to get her away from his criminal plans and secret toxins that he had been putting into gothams water supply. he was going to gas you next, as he knew rachel would come looking for you, then hold you for ransom (again, more like hostage), until rachel agreed to stop getting involved and dropped her involvement in any cases he worked all together.
as the elevator dinged, he stepped out first, leading the way with his hand resting gently on your back; the feeling was electrifying. his hands on you - it was driving you crazy. jonathan wasn't a very trusting person, so the two of you had gone on countless dates - but he didn't ask you out yet, ask you to be his, and you guys hadn't actually had sex yet, which you found a little endearing, if you were being honest. it seemed like he respected you and wanted more than just a quick hookup.
"this way, please." he says, his voice saccharine as he talks to you. as you follow his lead, he then takes your hand in his once more, and pushes a large, heavy, metal door open. you followed him, hand in hand, and continued to go along with whatever it was he was doing. you didn't think twice about it; you never felt a sense of danger near him.
glancing down from the top of a cascading staircase, you see what appeared to be inmates or patients of arkham asylum, in their jumpsuits, working with various chemicals and pouring them into some sort of water supply - a sewerage of some sort, maybe? you blink a few times, but eventually you look over at him with an innocent and adorably confused expression.
jonathan pauses for a moment, looking down at you and your small frame in comparison to his, and takes note of how cute you truly were. god, you were so pretty. sighing, he continued, trying his hardest not to let you affect him in any way. "this is where we make the medicine," he says, "perhaps you should..."
he trailed off before he could say "have some," unable to finish his sentence, and you look at him with that adorable pout that you had many times before.
he couldn't go through with it. this was the final part of his plan! he was supposed to hold you hostage! how else was he going to get rid of rachel dawes and stop her from meddling? you were like, his last resort, or something along those lines.
sighing, he shook his head. "no, i can't do this to you." he says, his voice soft, matching his expression.
"what are you talking about?" you ask innocently, as if you were oblivious to the scene around you. one thing about you was that you tended to see the good in people; even if others found them distasteful, you managed to see their best qualities.
therefore, when jonathan took you into some kind of illegal, criminal chemical distribution and production centre for his fear toxin, you innately looked past it - a typical you thing to do. they do say that ignorance is bliss, right?
jonathan eyed you curiously - were you serious? "do you know where you are right now?" he asked, tone still soft as he spoke to you.
"yeah, arkham asylum." you respond cutely, and he almost laughed. you were so adorable - so sweet.
"no- like, where we are right now, as in where we're standing." he clarifies, hoping you would understand.
"a lab?" you ask hopefully, and he nods, looking at you with a small smile.
"something like that, yes," he laughs softly, "you don't see the problem here?"
you tilt your head to the side to really emphasize your confusion, and jonathan feels this strange sensation in his chest - almost like there were butterflies flying around freely in there. "well, should i see a problem with this?" you ask innocently.
"yes," he says, "yes, you should. does this not bother you at all?"
"not really, no."
"but why?"
"cause i like you." you say, and he goes quiet.
you like him? you like him? you like him. for some reason, this makes his heart beat about a million miles a minute, and he gets flustered - nearly choked up. jonathan crane of all people wasn't one to ever be at a loss for words, but love changes us in ways we wouldn't dream of.
for a moment, you thought you'd really fucked up this time. he was quiet for so long, you thought perhaps you should take it back - save yourself before it was too late; confessing your feelings when they weren't mutual was one of the most embarrassing things that you felt could happen to you. but, before you could take back your little confession, his hands were on your waist, pulling you close to him.
his expression was something you'd never seen before, almost like he was searching your eyes for any trace of a lie, really trying to see if you were being honest with him. vulnerability didn't come easy to jonathan, and his walls were up so high - they were almost unbreakable.
almost.
as he pulled you close, his hands rested on your waist gently, pulling you flush against his body as he looked down at you. "you have feelings for me?" he asked quietly, and you nod.
"of course i do, i thought it was obvious..." you say just as quietly, your eyes trailing over his pink, plush lips.
suddenly, he was pulling you into a gentle kiss, which you immediately melted into, letting yourself fall into him. neither of you fought the fall this time, especially not jonathan.
"i need you," he whispered against your lips, "i think i-" he stopped himself, his heart skipping and his brain short circuiting from the thought of finishing his sentence.
"hm?" you ask cutely, pulling away from the kiss.
"i think i love you." he says quickly, and you smile sweetly at him. "i know i love you." you reassure him, and he smiles back at you. "darling, you truly are something else."
before you knew it, the two of you were sneaking away as if you were teenagers again. he took you through the staff only parts of the asylum, and eventually led you to the underground parking garage. the two of you were laughing amongst yourselves, acting like two high school students in love.
you had asked a security officer to hand the keys to your car to rachel, so that she could drive home, and shot her a text that simply read: "i owe u, pls dont hate me ok ily bye."
she sent back the following: "ughhh fine"
like jonathan, she also had a soft spot for you, even when you did things like this - you were like a baby sister to her, she adored you even if you were trying to sleep with the "enemy." well, her enemy anyways.
it was quite cold on this particular night, even though it was the middle of summer. as the two of you walked through the parkade, jonathan noticed that you were shivering slightly, and he quickly took off his suit jacket. wrapping it around your shoulders, he pulled you close, placing a few chaste kisses on your neck and behind your ear, as the two of you rushed to get into his car.
jonathan and you swiftly got in his car, his hand on your thigh as the two of you sped off to his place. the minute you two got out and stepped into his apartment building, the both of you were pressed up against each other. the two of you sharing sloppy kisses as you tried your best to hurry up and get into his apartment from the elevator, wanting nothing more than to get your hands on each other.
as he closed his apartment door and locked it behind him, you pounced on him, locking your lips with his in an instant. he needed you - and you needed him. both desperate and needy, you make out feverishly, hungry for more. it was meant to be - it must be. the way the moonlight shone through the big, glass window of his bedroom, illuminating you both as you made the moment yours.
you rush to help him out of his clothes; sloppy, hot kisses being shared between the both of you. he pushes you back onto his soft mattress, and he tugs your clothes off of you, pawing at your breasts through your lacy bra. once you were in just your lacy bra and matching lacy panties, he groaned at the sight.
"fuck, look at you, darling." he groans, and you feel your cheeks heat up from his words. "i've wanted you for so long."
his hands travel up your body, reaching for your bra clasp before undoing it, your perky breasts out for him to see. wasting absolutely no time, he slides your lacy panties down, too. you could see the tent in his boxers, and you smirked to yourself.
"please fuck me, jon. i wanna feel myself getting stretched out by your cock." you say to him, looking up at his face as he crawls onto you.
jonathan was almost at a loss for words - for someone so sweet and so innocent, your words were so filthy.
"yeah, is that what you want, darling?" he asked, pulling his boxers down to reveal is hard cock, dripping with pre cum. "d'you want me to fuck you stupid, hm? until you can't walk?"
his words made you moan, you were unbelievably turned on right now. you felt the tip of his cock line up with your drooling entrance, and you snake your hand down to your clit, teasingly playing with it while he watched. you moan, and he takes a hold of your hand. "you're fucking naughty, aren't you?" he asked, pinning both your wrists above your head as he forcefully thrusted his cock into your tight, warm cunt.
"jesus, you're fucking soaked." he groans, setting a fast and brutal pace as he fucked you. you arch your back at the feeling of his cock hitting your cervix already - so deep you couldn't decipher whether it actually hurt or not.
"f-fuck, so good, ugh-" you moan, the sound of your voice mixed with his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt filling up the room.
"y-yeah?" he asks, moaning your name, "darling, fuck. this cunt is all mine, understood?"
you nod frantically, feeling his thick, fat cock sliding in and out of your spongy walls, stretching your tight little cunt out. "mm, uh-huh. o-oh, jon..!"
he continued to fuck you mercilessly, pounding your pretty pussy with such force, you knew he wasn't kidding when he said you wouldn't be walking tomorrow. you were a mess under him, screaming his name at this point, and he loved it. oh, how he loved seeing you fall apart underneath him.
"j-jon, baby," you moan, "i-i'm gonna cum."
"drench my cock, darling," he says, still fucking your soaking cunt with his thick cock, "show me, fuck- show me who you fucking belong to."
his words sent you over the edge, your mind going blank as you screamed his name out over and over, your legs shaking as he fucked you into oblivion, your release crashing over you like a wave. your soft walls enveloping his fat cock even more, tightening up around him.
"god, you're unbelievably tight-" he moans, "m'gonna fill this pretty pussy up, darling."
you started to babble incoherently, lost in the moment. "mm, f-uck- i love you." you gasped, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.
your saccharine, desperate voice sent jonathan into overdrive, and he was certainly starting to lose his composure. "i love you more." he groaned while painting your walls white with his cum.
he stayed on top of you for a moment, the both of you catching your breath and processing what just happened. eventually, he rolled off of you, and immediately pulled you into his embrace. you snuggled into his arms, your head laying on his chest; listening to his heartbeat as bliss consumed you.
jonathan subconsciously knew he couldn't go through with his plan as soon as he fabricated it, as you'd captured his heart instantaneously. you were so sweet, so oblivious to the fact that he was so imperfect, so dangerous. maybe you knew, he thought, or maybe you just chose to see the good in him, he wasn't entirely sure. he wasn't a saint, and he definitely wasn't a good man by any means, but for you; he would try to be better. he promised that to himself.
you'd dozed off while he was lost in his thoughts, and he looked over at you, snuggled up in his arms as you slept peacefully, and he held you a little closer - a little tighter. he never wanted to let you go.
your name had been tattooed onto his heart from the moment he had met you - permanent and forever there.
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my taglist has been giving me issues so i apologize if it doesn't notify you when i've tagged you, as for some reason tumblr won't allow me to tag more than 5 blogs unless theres a space between them lol
my taglist (join here!):
@kpopgirlbtssvt @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet
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451 notes · View notes
danieyells · 4 months
Text
@mayoigotokurousagi LAST ONE OF YOURS here's Jin!!!
Jin is. . .he's a lot sweeter than you'd expect once his affinity gets high lol. . . . I FEEL LIKE I ENDED UP WITH A LOT OF COMMENTARY HERE. . .he just acts very different as affinity goes up, i have to point shit out haha
I've also amended this one to be all of his voicelines now!
Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)
"Where the hell do you think you're going? Quit dawdling and help me get ready." お前、どこほっつき歩いてたんだ?……さっさと支度を手伝え

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)
"Hey, you've got mail. Don't tell me you're not going to open it. What if it was for me?" おい、手紙。放っとくつもりじゃねぇだろうな。 俺宛があったらどうすんだ? あ?
Jin, why would your mail be in my. . .whatever

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)
"...Get to the point. The trash here is so long-winded." チッ……さっさと要件を言え。ゴミどもはこれだから面倒くせぇ

"A party? I don't waste air on bootlickers. Try Tohma." 社交界? 肩書き目当ての奴らに構うつもりはねぇよ。塔真をあたれ

"Don't just stand there like an idiot. Hurry up. ...What? You got a problem? Spit it out." おい、ぼさっと突っ立ってねぇでついてこい。 ……何だ、文句でもあんのか?

"Kneel! Tsk... Where's {PC}? Bring her to my room." 跪け!  ……チッ。あの女はどこだ。今すぐ俺の部屋に連れてこい

"What? Your schedule's not my problem. Just arrange it around me." あ? お前の都合なんて知らねぇ。黙って俺に合わせてりゃいいんだよ

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)
"...Huh? I don't want to see your face at the crack of dawn. Get out." ……あ?寝起きから、その面見せんな…… 下がってろ
given how vulgar his speech is sometimes i'm surprised he didn't say "asscrack of dawn"
Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)
"Tell the chef I'm not in the mood for meat today." ……シェフに伝えろ。今日は肉の気分じゃねぇってな
Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"I'm not wasting my time fooling around with those brats today. If they're really that bored, just make them go on a low-ranking mission or something." ガキの遊びに付き合う気はねぇよ。そんなに暇なら、適当に低ランク任務でも行かせておけ
he's just barely avoiding making iPad kids out of Kaito and Lucas lmao
Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)
"Put my dinner over there. I'll eat later if I feel like it." ディナーはそこに置いておけ。気が向いたら食っておく
i am once again asking the ghouls to FUCKING EAT PROPER MEALS.
Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)
"I need more data for this case...  Go find Tohma, servant." 任務の資料が足りてねぇ…… 下僕、塔真を呼んでこい
Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"A Class C anomaly? Miss me with that weak shit. Why do you think we have a Vice Captain?" あ? C級怪異? つまんねぇことに俺を巻き込むな。 何のために副寮長がいるんだ?
MISS ME WITH THAT WEAK SHIT I AM IN TEARS WHO TAUGHT YOU TO TALK LIKE THAT. . . .
Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)
"What about class? Ha. What makes you think you can lecture me? Worry about yourself." ……授業の時間? ハッ、俺に説教とはいい度胸じゃねぇか。お前は自分の心配でもしてろ
Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"You don't even know that? What do they teach here?" ……そんなこともわからねぇのか?この学園の教育はどうなってんだ
I guess Jin has a good handle on the material and everything he'd need to know, as a third year. I say 'as a third year' but Alan didn't understand some of the basics so--
Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)
"Bianerus! ...I'm not feeling it today. You can go." <ビアネルス> …………チッ。調子が悪い。今日はもう下がれ
Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)
"It's late. We're done here. Leave." ……もう遅い。話は終わりだ、下がれ
Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)
"You're late. You've got some nerve making me wait, servant." ……遅ぇよ。下僕ごときが俺を待たせるな
Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)
"...I'm hungry. Go order lunch. For two." ……腹が減ったな。おい、ランチの手配をしろ。2人分だ
i guarantee you the pc did not consider that he meant "i want to eat lunch with you" the first time this happened. she probably just thought "damn jin's hungry today."
Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"You have plans? Take a second and really think about whether your plans are more important than me before you open that mouth again." 今日は都合が悪い? ……俺より優先する価値があるか、よく考えてから口を開け
Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)
"...Why are you so chatty today? Just pour my tea and get out of my face." チッ……うるせぇ。いつもの紅茶だけ淹れて失せろ
'stop trying to befriend me and go away' lmao
Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)
"You should be grateful I'm giving you the time of day this early in the morning." 俺が朝から相手してやってんだ。ありがたく思え
Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)
"Why do you look so worn out? If you're going to serve me, learn how to take better care of yourself. Tohma, take her to the infirmary." おい下僕、なんだその顔色は。俺に仕えるなら体調管理は万全にしろ。 塔真、こいつを保健室に運んでこい
why the infirmary. . .i don't think she needs a doctor i think she needs a nap. You're overworking her didn't Tohma tell you not to break her you donut
Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)
"It's still early... You want to practice the waltz? Bold, aren't you? You're going to be sore tomorrow." まだこんな時間か。 ワルツの練習?……生意気に催促しやがって。 覚悟しろよ。お前は明日、筋肉痛だ
are we still. . .talking about the. . .dancing. . . .
Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)
"You want to dine with me? Ha. All right. Show me if you've learned anything." お前と俺が、ディナーを一緒に? ハッ、面白ぇ。お手並み拝見といこうか
impromptu lesson on table manners!?
Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)
"It's quiet tonight... Sit here, next to me. We're playing a duet. Don't give me that look. You'll know this song." 今夜は静かだな……隣に座れ。 連弾だ。そんな顔すんじゃねぇよ。 ……お前も知ってる曲だ
I previously used the expression names to describe his expression as 'pouting' and 'like a spoiled child' but he mostly just looks irritated lmaooo
Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)
"Waking me up every morning was your idea, so I'd better see you here tomorrow too. That's an order." ルーティンにしたのはお前だろ。責任取って、明日も起こしに来い。 ……これは命令だ
how quickly we go from "i don't wanna see your face first thing in the morning" to "i had better see your face every morning". . . . (it's not quickly at all. it's actually an incredibly slow process getting affinity up.)
Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)
"...I was too active yesterday. Massage me, servant. ...What the hell was that? Put some muscle into it." チッ。昨日は体を動かしすぎたな。 下僕、次はマッサージだ。 ……足りねぇよ。もっと強く押せ
i love this one he's just like bitch what the fuck kinda weak ass massage is that put some back into it?????
Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"You don't know about dining etiquette? I don't have time for this... If you want me to teach you, I better see that nose on the grindstone." テーブルマナーがわからない? 面倒くせぇ……俺に教わるからにはそれ相応の覚悟があんだろうな?
we are reaching critical levels of "i need to make you presentable so you can meet my father" also I find it funny that this is after the "you wanna eat with me? let's see if you've learned anything" line. WHEN WERE THEY SUPPOSED TO HAVE HAD LEARNED OR DO YOU EXPECT THEM TO STUDY YOU AS YOU EAT
Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)
"What's that? My helicopter, obviously. Quit gawking and get in." 俺のヘリだ。見たらわかんだろ。……いいから、さっさと乗れ
get in servant idk where we're going but you are going with me
Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)
"I've got plans early tomorrow. Your house is too far. Stay here tonight." 明日は早朝から用事がある。お前が寝泊まりしてる寮からじゃ間に合わねぇかもな。 今夜は、ここに泊まれ
another expression note. . .he's looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck here. He's shy, almost. Because he's not asking you to stay over to perform some task. It's not your usual master-servant dynamic. He just wants you close to him. As close as possible. He really is rather sweet.
Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)
"Never learn, do you? I don't take you being here for granted. I know it won't last forever. That's all I'm going to say." 懲りないやつだな。言っておくが、こうやってお前が隣にいること…… 俺は、永遠に続くとは思ってねぇぞ
Jin makes a kind of sad face when he says it won't last forever. well, as sad as he can manage.
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He knows that once your curse is broken you'll probably go back to your ordinary life. If your curse can't be broken you'll die. And if you, for some reason, continue to stay at Darkwick even after being cured, he'll be a fourth year next year--he's gonna go off to do field work. Eventually he'll work in the highest levels of the Institute and eventually he'll take his father's place as the president. With all of this, there's no way you'll be able to be together, no matter what. This is a short lived burst of happiness and attachment for him. It means a lot more to him than you realize.
Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)
"(yawn) What's with that look? I'm not allowed to yawn?" ふぁっ…… あ? 何だその顔は。俺があくびして悪ぃか?
(between 11am and 4pm)
"The flowers you can see from the balcony? Yeah, I had them planted. ...My mother liked them." バルコニーから見える花……?ああ、俺が植えさせた。 …………お袋が好きだった花だ
the balcony bg and the front of frostheim background don't have flowers visible in them(i mean the balcony has potted plants but no flowers). . .i wonder what kind of flowers his mother liked. maybe the pc will grow them when they turn into a Kyklos.
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"Sunset's supposed to be nice this time of year. Come on, servant. Before I change my mind." 春茜か……おい下僕、少し外に出る。 俺の気が変わる前に付き合えよ
(between 8pm and 5am)
"You're going to see the cherry blossoms tonight with the brats? Suit yourself. I doubt any of you can appreciate them." あ? ガキどもと夜桜を見に行く? 勝手にしろ。お前らに、あの風情がわかるとは思えねぇけどな
'you guys are too poor to appreciate nice things'
Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)
"Those little shits are so loud this morning... They're worse than the cicadas. Tohma, go exterminate them." クソ、朝からガキどもがうるせぇ。 塔真、あのセミより鬱陶しい奴らを駆除してこい
MODS, PUT 'EM IN THE BLENDER.
(between 11am and 4pm)
"What kind of moron chooses to go out in the sun this time of year? Unless you want your brain to melt, stay here with me." わざわざこの時期、日を浴びようなんて奴は馬鹿しかいねぇ。 お前も脳みそ溶かしたくなきゃ、ここにいろ
jin. . .this is frostheim. it is PERMANENTLY WINTER here, even to the point of that the day-night timing doesn't change. It's not hot unless we leave the boundaries of frostheim. . . . THIS IS A THINLY VEILED EXCUSE TO GET YOU TO STAY WITH HIM.
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"You've got tickets to a fireworks festival? The view's better from a helicopter. ...You've got guts thinking you can show me a good time, peasant." あ? 花火大会の観覧席チケット? 花火はヘリから見るもんだろ。庶民の分際で俺を誘いやがって……
'peasant' is worse than 'servant' in my opinion. . . .
(between 8pm and 5am)
"Haven't heard the sound of waves for a while... Get the speedboat. I'll drive." しばらく波の音も聞いてねぇな…… おい、今すぐクルーザーを出せ。操縦は俺がする
jin just shoving you into various vehicles to take you places is really funny to me for some reason. you're like his purse dog. he just wants to take you everywhere even if it doesn't really benefit him to do so. also he can drive a speedboat????

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)
"I overworked myself. Go get Tohma. I was right having him get that PT license. I should have you get one too." 塔真を呼べ、オーバーワークした。 あいつに整体の資格を取らせたのは正解だったな。 下僕、お前も取るか
. . .doesn't that take like three years minimum in japan. . .how did you get him to get that. . .didn't he only meet you like two and a half years ago and you weren't even in the same house then. . .is that a darkwick offered course. . . .
(between 11am and 4pm)
"A pumpkin spice latte? I'm not drinking this saccharine garbage. Give the rest to the brats." あ? パンプキンスパイスラテ? こんな甘ったるい茶は飲まねぇよ。残りはガキどもにやっとけ
what do you think he is, a basic bitch like you? Not a big fan of sweets. Noted.
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"My favorite family vacation? Don't have one. This conversation is over." 行楽の思い出?そんなもんねぇよ。 ……この話は終わりだ
(between 8pm and 5am)
"I don't play the piano because I like it. It's just force of habit." 別に、ピアノが好きで弾いてるわけじゃねぇよ。ただの惰性だ

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)
"...Don't fucking wake me up. Come back later." ……起こすんじゃねぇ。話なら後にしろ
he hates the heat he hates the cold. . .well he also hates mornings in general. . . .
(between 11am and 4pm)
"Why is my name on this snowman? Tohma, give me your gloves. Whichever half-wit made this has shit for eyes." なんで雪だるまに、俺の名前が? ……塔真、手袋を貸せ。これ作った奴の目は、確実に腐ってやがんな
"is that supposed to be me. . .? aw hell no i am fixing this shit"
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"Tell the chef and the brats we're having a roast dinner tomorrow. Kobe beef. They know how I like it." 明日はローストディナーだ、シェフとガキどもに言っとけ。 肉は神戸牛でな。焼き加減はわかってるはずだ
i like that the frostheim ghouls eat dinner together like a family. . .jin looks at Kaito and Lucas and goes 'those are my idiot sons. i cannot stand them.'
(between 8pm and 5am)
"You're staying here tonight, servant. I'll show you an aurora you couldn't even dream of." 下僕、今夜は泊まれ。最上級のオーロラを見せてやる
see how this is worded differently from when he asks you to stay over because 'your house is too far away'? even when he's trying to be sweet to you, as long as he maintains your power imbalance he feels comfortable--he has something over you here--but trying to lay his feelings bare, just saying 'i want you to stay with me', that's so much more than he's used to saying.

His birthday: (August 31st)
"A birthday party? This has Tohma written all over it, that asshole's always using me to— You're planning it? ...I'll think about it." 誕生日パーティー? 塔真の奴、また俺を客寄せに使って…… 違う?お前が主催? ……気が向いたらな
'that asshole tohma is trying to make me go outside aga--oh you're planning the party. oh. okay. maybe.'

Your birthday:
"The song I just played? It's G. F. Handel. He wrote it for the queen's birthday." さっき弾いた曲?……G.F.ヘンデルが、女王の誕生日に送った曲だ
in case you don't get the significance of what he's saying here. . .lemme fetch one of Tohma's lines for you--
"I'm no more than a servant. Frostheim is ruled by a king, you see." 私はあくまで小間使いですよ。フロストハイムには、キングがいますから
my dude I think jin just called you his queen--only for your birthday though don't get cocky, servant

New Years: (January 1st)
"Hope you're ready for another year being at beck and call, servant. First up, my New Year's courtesy calls. Go do them for me." おい、下僕。今年も俺専用の女中として必死に尽くせよ。 まずは新年の挨拶回りだ。代わりに行ってこい
'happy new year! your purpose is still serving me.'

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)
"What's that sad-looking box you're holding? ...Oh. No, don't throw it away. I'll take it." なんだ? この貧相な包みは。 ……ああ、そういうことか。 捨てなくていい。受け取ってやるよ
jin is one of those characters who probably gets a mountain of chocolates given to him by admirers, all brand name and like from famous confectioners and shit. real nice fancy packages. so he sees your shitty little unprofessional homemade thing and is like 'tf is that' before he realizes it's for him and it's made with love and he just. . .ah. no, i want that, actually.

White Day: (March 13th)
"Keep your schedule open tonight. You're having a meal your peasant taste buds couldn't even dream of." おい、今夜は予定を開けとけ。庶民じゃ一生出会えねぇような美味いもん、お前に食わせてやるよ

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)
"Hey, are you all right? ...Tsk. If that was a joke, it wasn't fucking funny. I've changed my mind. Cancel all my plans for the day." おい、お前大丈夫か?  ……チッ。質の悪ぃ嘘だな…… 気が変わった。今日の予定はすべてキャンセルだ
i feel like Jin is about to put together the most elaborate prank and it's gonna hurt someone's feelings or get somebody hurt and no one will find it funny and he'll end up feeling super shitty. like that one spongebob episode.

Halloween: (October 31st)
"Where the hell's Tohma? Asshole sent the brats to my room to beg for candy. Next time I see him I'm going to wring his fucking neck." クソ……塔真はどこだ。俺の部屋に籠持ったガキども寄こしやがって。 あいつ……ぶっ殺すぞ……
okay but did you give them candy?

Christmas: (December 25th)
"Go tell Tohma what color dress you're wearing tonight. Why? Maybe I'll wear a matching ascot tie. If I feel like it." 今夜着るドレスの色を塔真に伝えておけ。 あ? 理由? 気が向いたらアスコットタイの色を合わせてやる

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)
"...Where the hell did she go?" ……あの女、どこ行きやがった?
(13 affinity and above)
"Shit... This is throwing me off. Who does that servant think she is?" ……クソ……調子が狂う。 下僕の分際で、舐めやがって……
he feels so wrong without you next to him aw

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)
"...You've got guts abandoning your place at my back, servant. I'm going to have to retrain you." …………っ、おい……下僕は常に主人の後ろにいるもんだろうが。 お前は再教育だ
ONCE AGAIN IT FEELS LIKE I PUT NEARLY ALL OF THEM IN IT'S ALL OF THEM NOW! The way he treats the pc in so many different ways but it makes sense with his character and feelings. . .as far as the home screen lines go, Jin definitely loves you in some capacity. He's actually quite clingy. . .i'm a little too sleepy for more coherent thought haha
407 notes · View notes
ultravioletrayz · 9 months
Note
So my idea for degradation fic involving Miguel would be something like this- (also please keep an open mind this idea is kinda out there)
So lets say Miguel is your mentor and you are so eager to please and do good work. You have always been kinda good at everything so people complementing you and telling you how great you are is nothing new. But Miguel is different, he's hard to please. So when you do something right he's not complementing you and that is odd for you, and when you mess something up well...he's quick to criticize you. this stirs something within you.
So you keep trying to please him and he's not into it he just keeps bringing you down and reader is starting to like it, sometimes wanting messing up. So lets say reader makes a big mistake on a mission and Miguel is ready to yell and degradant them but reader is getting turned on by it and Miguel noted it so he starts to degradant them more and it starts getting into NSFW territory. while he's getting into it he's just saying filth to you. "your so such a needy slut" "look at you getting turned on while I bully you, pathetic" "you want to be a good girl? you want me to praise you? too bad...now open..." *spits in readers mouth*
then if you can end it off where reader in passed out and thats when he's sweet in the aftercare when she dosn't know. he will open up to her one day just not yet.
Not even gonna lie, if Miguel was a meanie towards me i wouldn’t know whether to cry or cum.
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Pairing: miguel o’hara x f!spiderperson!reader
Warnings: 18+, degrading kink, rough sex, fingering, orgasm denial/mild edging, getting bent over miguel’s desk, marking, clit slapping (like, once), pull-out method, absolutely terrible and rushed ending, miguel being mean, horny, and ultimately just socially-awkward
Summary: you strive for perfection in all areas… until the opportunity arises where doing the opposite will give you access to the perfection inside your mean boss’s boxers.
A/N: before anyone tries to come for me for making miguel seem like an asshole in this fic, ik that this isn’t entirely true to miguel’s character. however, i’m horny and dgaf. enjoy!!
Word Count: 3K (unedited)
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For as long as you could remember, people would refer to you as ‘gifted’. It was as though everything you attempted to achieve was accomplished with ease. In your world, on the days when the Society was a distant memory and you were given the opportunity to act as a true Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Person, you practically lived in a bubble of praise. Surprisingly, the media worshipped you, recognising you as the hero you are. Locals chanted your name, asked for autographs, and even demanded you accept gifts and tokens of appreciation every time you were spotted in your costume on the streets. 
Although you forced yourself to stay humble within the public eye, you would be lying if you tried to convince yourself that the compliments and special treatment didn’t make you feel good, didn’t push you to be a better superhero for the sake of the citizens who practically worship the ground you walk on.
Which is the primary reason why having to tend to work and assignments at the Spider Society caused you so much misery. When you were first recruited, a few other Spider-People had mentioned how short-tempered and cold the boss is, but you had expected to win him over with your natural, over-achieving flare. That goal was quickly crushed when you met Miguel O’Hara for the first time. He had immediately lectured you on certain habits he had observed from footage of you fighting crime at home, giving you strict instructions on how to be better at your job. From then on, you’ve tried your best to view his constant criticism as a positive and value his (poor) attempts at mentoring you. 
It didn’t take long for you to realise that he wasn’t really trying to help you, and he was just a grumpy asshole as everyone had warned and wanted you to follow orders rather than going out and trying to prove yourself constantly. Lately, you’ve been slipping up, making mistakes. You had come to terms with the fact that Miguel wasn’t interested in showing you any appreciation or praise for your hard work, and it had begun to affect your performance on missions, bringing you to this point. 
“What the hell was that?” Miguel snarls at you, his platform lowering as he slams his fist on his desk and glares at you, his sharp red eyes burning holes in your pretty, sad little face. You had almost let an anomaly get away, blinded by your insecurities and Miguel’s lack of interest in your skills, you would have destroyed an entire universe if it weren’t for the backup Miguel had sent you.
“Miguel, let me explain-” You start, being cut off by an angry huff from Miguel.
“I’m sick of the excuses. I don’t care about how you handle shit in your own dimension. When you come here and are trusted to keep the multiverse stable, I expect you to do as you’re told. Unless the small task of containing the minor anomalies I assign you is too much to handle?” Miguel scoffs, shaking his head as he looks you up and down.
The look of disappointment on his tan, chiselled face would usually have you on the verge of tears, but as you’ve grown accustomed to his harsh beratement, it’s begun to have a very different effect on you. You can just imagine him, brushed back curls dishevelled and clinging messily to his face as he pounds into your needy pussy, whispering absolute filth into your ear as he uses you to get off. The thought has you practically soaking through your Spider-Suit, causing you to instinctively squeeze your thighs together as you force yourself to keep your gaze from dropping to Miguel’s broad, muscular physique. As his glare intensifies and he rolls his eyes at your subtle movements, you know he’s got you figured out.
Miguel’s heightened senses pick up on your current state of arousal, the scent of your slick making him dizzy as it clouds his mind. He had always beaten himself up about how harsh he could be towards you, reflecting on his cruelty to such a pretty girl with shame and regret. But finding out that you liked being treated so poorly by him, it has him going fucking crazy.
“Por el amor de Dios,” (for fuck’s sake) Miguel hisses, taking a step towards you, looming over your smaller form with a judgemental scowl plastered on his face. “You’re pathetic. Risking everything we work for here, just so that you can imagine me yelling at you while you finger-fuck yourself at night?”
Your eyes widen, his words reigning true as they hang in the air of the room. Yet, you make a miserable attempt at denying the accusation by shaking your head softly and taking a step back. Miguel only moves closer to you, intimidating you with his mere presence as his scowl curls into a cruel smirk.
“No me mientas, hermosa,” (don’t lie to me, beautiful) He whispers, one of his large, calloused hands grabbing your face and pulling you back towards him, fingers squeezing your cheeks as his breath hits your skin, sending shivers up and down your spine. “You’re usually so eager to please me. Did you think I was stupid enough not to notice when you started messing things up?”
“Miguel-” You whine, voice muffled due to the way he squishes your cheeks together, making your pretty lips jut out in a sad little pout.
“It always annoyed me how bubbly and determined you are,” He admits bluntly, sharp red eyes scanning your face, before trailing down to watch the way your thighs rub together in a pitiful attempt to alleviate the arousal coursing through you due to his relentless disparagement. “But I didn’t think you’d resort to acting like a dirty whore just because I’m not impressed by the ‘Friendly Neighbourhood’ act.”
His free hand trails down your body, fingers gliding between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, and stopping just above the crotch of your Spider-Suit. He chuckles lowly as he watches the way you squirm in his grasp, hips attempting to roll against his hand for any kind of friction. 
If we had to be completely honest, he actually enjoyed watching you work. You really are gifted, always applying yourself to missions. When he heard you would be handling an anomaly for him, he would feel relieved, even proud. But he knew that any compliments he gave you would just be lost in the sea of praise you already received. So, in order to set himself apart, he decided he was going to be a complete dickhead to you. He figured bullying you would motivate you to seek him out in a crowd, make you strive to impress him and show off to him, and ultimately bring the two of you closer. It was shameful, how awful he is at making first impressions, that he’d rather hurt a beautiful young girl’s feelings as opposed to being a reliable boss and potential friend. But now knowing that he hadn’t completely ruined his chances at getting closer to you, he was certainly going to take full advantage of this new development.
“Now look at you, you don’t wanna be a good girl for me anymore, nena?” Miguel teases, grinning as he sees the need and innocence in your eyes as he releases your face with a harsh push. “You wanna be a dumb little slut for your fucking boss, instead?”
You want to say no, want to deny his harsh words and hopefully gain back some of the dignity he was stripping away from you, but your body yearns for Miguel’s touch, his degradation fueling your most carnal desires, and you nod your head frantically. Miguel sighs at your eagerness, tapping your cheek firmly as he wraps a hand around your throat, not applying any pressure but allowing his thumb to lazily stroke the side of your neck.
He leans in to bite your bottom lip hard, causing you to cry out in pain and open your mouth. He takes the opportunity and slams his plump lips against yours, tongue intertwining around yours inside your warm mouth as he groans into the sloppy, demanding kiss. His hand drops from your throat as his bulging arms tuck themselves underneath the fat of your ass and he lifts you up, carrying you over to his platform and dumping you on top of his desk, lips never leaving yours. Miguel’s razor-sharp claws protrude from his fingertips, slicing through the material of your Spider-Suit and prompting a startled yelp from you as he rips your clothes right off your body. 
The matching set you have on underneath has his dick thrumming in his suit, and he almost loses sight of his initial plan in a desperate temptation to worship your gorgeous body and shower you with the praise that he knows you deserve. But he wants to be different, wants to hold a special place in your heart, and this was the only way to do it. 
“You wore these for me, didn’t you?” He hisses flippantly against your lips, throwing the rags of your once cute little Spider-Suit across his office, before tearing your bra open from the middle with just the strength of his grip, claws retracting back into the pads of his fingers. “Puta de mierda.” (fucking whore)
Miguel flips your body over on his desk with ease, your face now pressed against the cold, hard material as Miguel leaves a trail of deep bite marks and hickeys across the exposed skin of your back, making his way down to your clothed pussy at an agonising pace, your ass wiggling enticingly to try and convince Miguel to give you what you want, what you need from him. Miguel peels your soaked panties off of you, tossing them onto his desk chair for later, as his fingers run up and down your already dripping folds, causing him to chuckle to himself.
“I never would’ve pegged you for a girl who gets off on this kind of thing,” Miguel whispers as his fingers explore your wetness, his tone much softer as his sharp, red eyes admire the way your body looks bent over his desk. He snaps himself out of his trance, opting to tap on your clit harshly with his fingers to bring himself back to a place of lust and callousness, and to tease you further.
Miguel dips his two fingers into your cunt, making you moan and cry out, your hands gripping the edge of Miguel’s desk as you push your hips back to fuck yourself on his thick fingers. He pumps his digits in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling them to hit that sweet, gummy spot inside of you each time they delve deeper into your pussy. Miguel groans at the way you clench around his fingers as he thrusts them into you, his knuckles drenched in your arousal as he watches the way you grind against his hand when his thumb rubs your pulsing clit to stimulate you further. 
You’re completely falling apart at his touch, the way his fingers deliciously stretch your hole making you see stars as you approach your climax. Just as you’re about to cum, Miguel pulls his fingers out of your cunt and gives your clit a harsh slap, making you whine as your entrance twitches at the sudden loss.
“Sluts don’t get to cum ‘til I say so, muñeca.” Miguel taunts, disabling his nano-tech suit, the holographic material dissolving and revealing his tall, tan, muscular, the mere feeling of him towering over you from behind making you moan against his desk. He holds his fat, stiff cock in one hand, dragging it between your folds and gathering the slick trickling down your thighs as he scoffs at the way you tremble and spasm at his touch. “Especially sluts like you.”
Miguel plunges his dick into your pussy aggressively, bottoming out in one harsh slam of his hips against your ass and causing you to scream, his hand coming down to cover your mouth and muffle your echoing moans as he delivers fast, disciplining thrusts into the depths of your core, tip kissing your cervix with each frenzied movement. His cock rams into you mercilessly as he digs one hand into the plush of your waist while the other holds your head up, the two fingers he was using to play with your pussy forcefully entering your mouth. On instinct, you wrap your lips around them and suck the remnants of your essence off of his skin, moaning and choking on his thick digits as Miguel’s length stretches you to the brink of what is possible for your tight little pussy to handle and his balls slap against your puffy clit.
“Pussy was fucking made for me,” He grunts, delivering a smack to your juicy ass, the sting making you whine against his fingers, saliva dribbling down your chin and saturating the desk below your face. “Squeezing me so tight. It’s a shame that this pretty cunt can’t make up for how shit you are at your job. Maybe I won’t bother assigning you missions anymore? I’ll just call you in when I need a hole to fuck.” 
Wow. He really did think of you as useless. You had always considered yourself to be good at what you do. At home, you were a hero. Here, bent over your boss’s desk and being fucked so mercilessly, you felt like nothing but a whore. You cry, tears rolling down your cheeks as you moan and squeal with each thrust of Miguel’s thick cock into your hungry pussy. Despite your underlying feelings of shame for your recent failures as an employee, being fucked like a slut by the very man you’ve been fantasising about since the first time you had the displeasure of meeting was able to snap you out of your sadness and overwhelm you with passion.
Hearing you sob around his fingers fills Miguel with a sharp pang of guilt, but he brushes it off and pounds into you harder to remind himself of his end goal, breaking you down until he can make you his. If you really were as into his cruelty as you seemed, he was going to give you exactly what you so desperately needed.
“Mig-Miguel, I’m- fuck! I’m so close.” You whine, his fingers in your mouth making your voice come out as a spluttering cry. 
Miguel pulls his soaked fingers out of your mouth and holds your waist with both hands, fucking his cock impossibly deeper inside of you as the sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your desperate, breathy sounds of pleasure fill the dark office.
“Beg for it, amor.” He whispers against your ear, his chest pressed flush against your back as he nibbles at the smooth skin of your neck as his dick moves in and out of you at a brutal pace, the veins of his thick length caressing the warm walls of your pussy as he smushes his tip against your sweet spot with each thrust.
“Please, Miguel! I promise I’ll do better. I won’t make another mistake again, I’m gonna be so good, I swear! Better than I’ve ever been!” Your breathless pleas make Miguel feel a conflicting surge of both guilt and power. He watches the way your back arches and your thighs shake as you try so so hard not to cum, to be a good girl for him and follow his orders. At the end of the day, you just wanted him to like you, to see how good of a hero you are, and he knew that. Which is why he’s finding it so fun to toy with you like this.
“Shh, I know. I’ll let you cum, sweetheart.” Miguel coos, tugging on your hair so that he can reach your face and plant a kiss on your tear-stained cheek, his soft, long-awaited act of reassurance contrasting the lewd sounds of squelching as he fucks you with mind-numbing intensity. 
He reflects on his words as he listens to the way his unexpected words make you cry and whimper, and part of him regrets the way he approached your relationship, wishing he had just been honest with you and praised your efforts from the start, rather than being cruel and bending you over his desk to fuck you so harshly. But the way you tighten and pulse around his sensitive dick brings him back to the present, and he gives your waist an encouraging squeeze.
The tiny action of consolation has you spiralling, your vision going spotty as you squirt around Miguel’s fat cock, squeals and moans leaving your glistening lips as your whole body twitches with the all-consuming sensation of your release. Watching as you come undone, Miguel feels himself rapidly approaching his own release. He curses and pulls out of your sopping cunt, watching the way his leaky tip shines with your juices. It sends Miguel over the edge. He lets out a sharp whimper as he cums all over your round ass and your spine, thick globs of his climax staining your sweaty skin and making you exhale shakily. 
The sex and your crying make you pass out on the desk, and Miguel quickly covers you up and carries you to his quarters, laying you down in his bed and tucking you in. He whispers a quick apology to you, letting his cruel persona disappear and showing you how much he actually values you as a colleague and person when he thinks you’re asleep, but you hear everything. 
Maybe you didn’t really need to be praised by Miguel to know that you were good enough. And maybe he didn’t need to be so afraid of showing you that appreciation. For now, though, the angry sex would be a pleasant memory for both of you, in an odd way.
“Get some rest, cariño. You deserve it, for being such a good girl.”
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I FINALLY FINISHED IT OMG. Thank you all for being so patient 💜💜
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riotlain · 9 months
Note
Hi! Could you please do Batboys (sepretly) with a younger brother reader? Basically hcs of the reader copying and looking up to their brother, and he accidentally calls them dad (it's his first word)
Ty, have a great day or night!<33
im back in my fanfic era guys
didn't include duke bc i blanked when jt came to him😭😭
Dick Grayson
The minute you starts copying him he's over the moon and everyone else in the manor freaks out
No, you can't hang on the chandelier like he used to
He teaches you fun tricks though
You have your own little bō staff like his
Yes he has dressed you up in a Nightwing costume for halloween
Carries you around with one of those chest baby carrier things
If you were to ever call him dad as a first word his heart would stop
Like he's happy you said your first word but like he will make sure you don't call him dad around Bruce😭😭
Will crush the old man's heart (joke)
Jason Todd
Probably the last one to meet you since he's hardly ever in the manor
When he does see you though, he's immediately protective over you
Whenever you started copying him, he'd think its funny
How you cross your arms whenever he crosses his or sighs whenever he does it
He feels a wonderful kinship
Then you call him dad and he is immediately gone (mentally)
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^^ His reaction
He is hardly ready to enter a relationship, much less be a dad
Even if you just see him once every blue moon
He just sorta picks you up and brings you to Bruce
"Thats your dada."
Tim Drake
Probably the second best brother to mimic out of them all since he's like pretty normalish
He has you sit on his lap while he works
You probably turned into an ipad baby cause of him
Also the type to carry you around with the chest baby carrier
You 2 nap together
When he you call him dad he just freezes up and stares at you for a moment
Then he panics and tries to get you to call Bruce dad instead
Damian Wayne
The first brother to meet you and of course he begins training you like how he was trained
Minute you began walking it was training time
Of course, you didn't really care but you had fun
Damian doesn't carry you around or anything but he holds your hand when you guys are in public
Especially at balls. He talks shit with you even though you hardly know any words
"Look at that woman over there flirting with father. How could she even think she has a chance with him?"
You:
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If you were to call him dad, he would then lecture you with pictures about how Bruce is your dad and is very cool and how Batman is cool
Like a chump
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eluxcastar · 6 months
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Hello Riri! :]
I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!
Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.
And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.
(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)
Fatui harbingers with a child god
── ୨୧:fatui harbingers & reader
୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing
୨୧﹑genre :: fluff
୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread
୨୧﹑words :: 3k
this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER
I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh
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There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.
Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.
It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.
You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.
She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.
It is as you are.
Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.
His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.
"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"
"May I?"
And with that, you take his offering.
Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.
Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 
"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."
"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"
Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.
Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.
Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.
"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."
"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."
Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.
She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.
"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"
"Isn't that what was offered to you?"
"Well...yes, thank you."
Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.
He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.
"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."
"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."
Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.
Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.
"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."
"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."
"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."
Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.
Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.
Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.
Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.
"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."
"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."
Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.
Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.
"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"
"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."
Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 
You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.
Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.
It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.
You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.
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sweetvirgin · 2 months
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NEED TO KNOW — onyankopon.
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˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ baby, i need to know. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 — reader is put between a rock & a hard place when onyankopon confesses something that threatens her emotional security. dormant (but never dead) feelings are revived. — wc. 2.6k~
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ touch of angst; friends to lovers. black fem reader. “reader” is replaced with the name “adularia.” characters are 21+. i proof read this about 15 times but i feel like there’s prolly gon errors anyway lmao. there’s cussing & the consumption of substances. enjoy !! (◡‿◡✿)
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"getting sleepy, ony?"
a closed-eyed ony was sat between adularia’s legs with his head rested on her thigh as she finished the last of his cornrows. his eyelashes ticked the skin of her exposed leg, and his warm breath fanned on her skin. he had been quiet for most of the intimate act of her doing his hair, instead opting silently rub her skin while she worked and appreciate the faint, sweet smell lingering on her. but he had since then stopped and his breathing had slowed into a steady, uniform pace.
ony deeply inhaled at mention of his name, humming thoughtfully before responding in a clearly-tired voice. "naw, i'm high as fuck." adularia tittered at this while making work of weaving the three pieces under and through each other.
"that shit good, ainit?" she teased cheekily, proud of doing a good job with finding connie (their shared plug). she finished the braid she worked on and quickly grabbed the blue magic grease jar. "we almost done. just two more braids, the beads, and then we can finish this blunt." he hummed in response and resumed rubbing her calf.
his almond eyes hadn't opened during that exchange once, but if they did, she knew they were bloodshot from that zaza. plus, he was a little sleepy - even if he denied it. how could he not be? he had his head laid on a warm thigh while the gentlest hands were tangled in his hair.
she dipped her manicured finger into the blue magic grease then smoothed the gel over the part. he shuddered at the sensation. it was so chilly on his exposed scalp.
“oo, sorry ony,” adularia apologized hushedly. then she quickly began the braid. she knew he ain’t wanna sit like this for much longer, so she made work of his four-b hair. she went on twisting his ends over and through each other until she was finally finished with the braid. letting go of the freshly-completed plait, she reached over for the blue magic grease and once again, dipped her finger in the tub. adularia delivered the cool grease to his hair. not too much, though. just a little bit to help it lay. this was the last braid. adularia swiftly completed that one while he nodded off in her embrace. she gently readjusted his head.
"just the beads now, ony," she informed him, to which she got an appreciative sigh. she giggled at his dramatics and reached over for the plastic beads (colored black, white, and clear) as well as the applicator.
she could feel ony’s full lips stretch into a smile against her thigh. "i'm finna smoke the fuck outta that blunttt," he sang excitedly as much as his sleepy voice would allow him, and this brought her giggle to a guffaw.
"that's why i be telling yo ass to bring a overnight bag. ion know why you don't. 'cuz you know you be 'bout ready to pass out after you get your hair braided," she bossily lectured him, amusement still evident in her voice. he didn't mind it - after being friends for a decade, he got used to her know-it-allism. he actually quite liked it.
still he dismissed her while she pushed up against the applicator to put the beads at the end of the plait. his voice rumbled against her as he sank back into exhaustion. "i'ma be aight."
she only replied with a “mmmhm.” but the rest of the bead application was silent, save for the music and her eventual humming. even ony felt himself moved by her stereo. he wasn't much of a dancer, but his finger contagiously followed the rhythm with gentle taps. this only motivated her to finish these braids - she really wanted that blunt in her lips and to vibe with some badu.
soon enough, he had a head of cornrows complete with beads. she applied mousse to his braids then went to wash the grit from her hands, meticulously scrubbing her acrylics free of the left over residue. once her hands were washed, adularia thoroughly dried them and then came back to ony - red velvet durag in her hand.
ony was a little more alert, still seated exactly where she left him. his thick lips gently held a blunt while he flicked a lighter at the end. expertly, he absorbed the smoke into his lungs as easily as breathing regular ol' air.
she plopped back onto the sofa. "turn around so i can see yo parts."
ony replied with a curt nod and turned around per her orders. her hand reached out for his face but without touching it, as if asking for nonverbal permission to hold his chin. he didn't know why she always did this - she know he don't care. but he found it sweet she always confirmed it beforehand. as expected, he pulled the blunt from his mouth and muttered a "gone head", smoke spilling from his lips as he did so.
she gently held his soft face in her hand and tilted his face in different directions: taking in the parts, the neatness, and so on. during the process, ony intently held her in his gaze and drank her in. eyes still unmistakably sleepy, but still, he absorbed her. her obsidian irises flickered down to meet his, and woah. he looked so… yum. his line-up was slightly overgrown — but it was still neat. with two low-lidded, exhausted eyes, he observed all of the details of adularia’s face. a beauty mark here, a freckle there, a tiny scar here. he licked his lips.
suddenly aware of the proximity, adularia became timid and averted her gaze. she could smell the blue magic grease in his hair, the woodiness in his cologne… the two were very close. overwhelmed by her shyness, she decided the braids looked damn good. that's all she need to know.
"lemme put this durag on you," she sheepishly offered, just to break the silence.
ony wordlessly obliged and allowed her to lower the durag over his head. but his eyes remained on her. still observing her as if he were having a revelation. however, this time, adularia didn't look down at his face to confirm if he was looking at her. she just tied the durag then comfortingly set a hand on his shoulder.
"okay ony. we all done,” she announced — hands tired as ever, happy with finally being finished. “you look… real good,” she added shyly.
he had the lightest smirk on his lips. “do i? thank you,” his eyes sparkled, despite how sleepy he was.
“mhm,” she affirmed. “hair growing in nice.” then she scanned her nearby surroundings. "now where that blunt at..."
ony volunteered the lighter with an outstretched hand. he passed it. that motherfucker was a little more than a roach, but she didn't complain. ony was the one who bought the weed anyways. and she could barely roll — not at all with her acrylics — so she didn't mind. plus she ain't need as much to get sufficiently high.
she wrapped her glossy lips around it and pat the plastic-covered sofa in search of a lighter, to which ony offered his. she accepted it with a relieved "right on" and sparkled the blunt. inhale. exhale. the passed it back to him.
"naw, i'm straight. you can have the rest."
her eyebrows raised and she returned the blunt to her mouth. another inhale. another exhale.
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in no time, she was highhh. the two had moved to her bedroom and settled into her wine red sheets. ony rolled another blunt because his high was letting up, but she definitely would have a very minimal part in smoking it. she had her fill, and she was starting to get sleepy. nonetheless, when ony outreached a tattooed arm to her, she plucked the blunt from his fingers and took one last hit.
while doing so, adularia noticed ony eying her with that same peculiar expression he had the entire time he been over her apartment. something like a mix between a realization, and acceptance. she immediately furrowed her eyebrows and lowered the blunt from her mouth, fighting a cough before asking him, "why you keep looking at me like that?" she cleared her throat, the smoke tickling her deep in her neck.
ony, expression unreadable, replied with a simple, "like what?"
"like that," she explained... albeit vaguely. she had a braveness to confront what she normally wouldn't - and this was thanks to the drug in her system releasing her inhibitions. she then sat the blunt in her pink ashtray and put the light out.
ony picked the blunt up with a shrug, still quiet and seemingly in thought. somewhat annoyed, she huffed and fell backwards onto the sheets, closing her tired eyes.
a few beats of silence passed between the two friends. ambient noise seeped through the walls of her apartment: a distant police siren, some dogs barking, and random people chattering about shit adularia’s ears couldn't discern. inside her bedroom she played music from her cd stereo. she could hear him striking the lighter a few times (as it was almost out of fluid), with sound of him inhaling and exhaling following. the air smelled like weed (of course), baby powder, and rosy incense. she rocked her head to the current song playing: chaka khan's powerful voice flowed through her home (at a reasonable volume of course, she wasn't tryna get evicted) and eventually, she forgot what she even asked ony.
then he spoke. “fuck it...” he muttered to himself, drawing her from her thoughts. some moments passed as he inspected his lighter, twirling it between her fingers. adularia listened intently, both of concern but also nosiness.
he sighed, and more audible, he settled on saying “i guess lately i just been thinking bout how i feel bout you."
she felt her heart spike a little bit. “and how is that?” she braced herself for the worst — that he didn’t want to be friends. that he hated her. that he felt he outgrew her. so cautiously, she waited for him to get done taking a hit.
he hummed then inhaled. “i know we friends but…” exhale, “i been feeling for you.”
her eyes fluttered open. oh my. what a thing to say. and nothing like she expected, so she braced just to still be taken aback.
it pulled the air from her lungs. she was breathless. the world became so quiet. and so small. and so still. anything beyond her bedroom was filtered out. even the music within dulled in comparison to his sudden statement. the room no longer smelled of roses and powder. instead, it smelled like him. still on her back, she twisted her head to catch his expression, but it was again unreadable. where was this coming from?
"huh?" she questioned.
he spoke with such a conviction, she knew he wasn't trying to yank her chain. "i’m starting to feel for you,” he candidly repeated, bringing the blunt back up to his lips.
she blinked, a little dumbfounded and slightly sobered by his statement. ony didn't react much, just continued puffing on the blunt. but she couldn't just brush past that.
"you... feel for me…? like… romantically?" she cautioned.
without bringing his eyes to hers, he simply replied with a “yup,” popping the P in the process.
her face grew warm. anyone who said black girls couldn't blush lied. she felt hot, and the walls of her bedroom seemed to close in on her. this information sobered her for sure, but she still wasn’t sober. she was still very much high. on weed, and that dizzy feeling she got from ony saying he wanted her.
"how long you felt this way?" adularia softly questioned. she took some of the blanket in between her fingers and fiddled with it.
he hummed. "some months now." he drew another breath from the blunt. “i didn’t want shit to be weird, so i ain’t say nothing.” the smoke poured from his lips with every word. “but every day i feel for you more and more. it’s getting hard to ignore.”
“it’s not weird,” she affirmed. she really wasn’t unnerved by his confession. if she were, she would be a hypocrite. “it’s just… something to take in. i was bracing myself for you saying you hate me, actually.” then she snorted a little.
now, she wouldn’t say she never looked at him that way. but those were fleeting considerations she would quickly dismiss as soon as they came. “he was a friend — girls and guys can be friends without there being anything romantic or sexual between them,” is what she would tell herself before ignoring what she thought to be a delusion. but it seems that, while it’s true guys and girls can befriend each other without desiring each other any other capacity… she desired him. and his confession brought those long-buried feelings back from dormancy. this was a point of no return, and she knew it.
softly, ony whispered, “i could never hate you.” he sounded pained at the suggestion, his face contorted in a wince. he loved her for years, even before he had romantic feelings. he’s always loved her. he flicked the blunt free of ash. “i wouldn’a let you braid my hair if i did.”
“yeah…kinda silly, now that i think about it.” she laughed a little. then she sighed.
“i’m glad you told me,” adularia started, feeling so shy. “i can’t say i never feel the same…” she admitted. ony felt his heart squeeze at the thought of her wanting him back. but there was no trace of it in his face. she continued. “i’m just a little scared.”
“why?”
she sat up, and ony’s eyes immediately snapped to her moving form. then she clutched her pajama pants nervously. “i’m happy to know but… it’s gon change our friendship. no doubt about it.”
he hummed and ashed the blunt. felt rude to be so intimate but high. “yes. it will. but i don’t regret saying it.”
she agreed quietly.
and that was that. the rest of the night was still as they both were absorbed in their thoughts, undoubtedly about each other and their friendship. it didn't feel awkward or wrong. but the vibe had definitely shifted between them.
shortly after, ony decided it was time to head on home. and so, their shared routine ensued: he rose to his feet. he stretched his limbs. he thanked adularia for braiding his hair and left the rest of the blunt with her. he offered to give her money for the service, she declined. she do it out of love for him. but he made her take the smooth $100 bill anyways. she obliged and thanked him. she walked him to the front, and he enjoyed being enveloped by her silage. they exchanged some last few words at the door as he pulled his shoes on. then he brought her in for a hug, letting her know he would call her. two soft goodbyes would be exchanged (as it was late, and she lived on the second floor). then her door would be gently pulled open and he would sidle out of the apartment. the same as always.
but she could feel the impending change on the horizon. whether it flourished into something life-long or ended in flames, she lacked the foresight. she just knew it would fundamentally change their relationship forever. it’ll never feel the same to braid his hair, for his head to lay on her thigh. to spend the night. to go out together. to hold his face in her hands. to compliment him. to tell him she loved him. when adularia closed the door behind his disappearing form, she knew that she forever lost the friend she had. and that was terrifying.
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© 2024 sweetvirgin. all rights reserved. no copy + paste, no translate, no ai inputs plsss & thank u. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
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pearlywritings · 7 months
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"Bring your kid to work" day
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synopsis: but sometimes it's very much unplanned.
pairing and characters: Zhongli x fem!reader, Xiao. Your family name is Rex-Lapis. Childe plays part in it too.
tw: modern AU, University AU, established relationship, fluff
word count: 2.8k+ words
a/n: Also a part of my University modern AU with history professor Zhongli
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The day started perfectly. Your older daughter was already at school with your permission to stay at her friend's house for a sleepover later, you had your day off, lounging in the living room with your son cuddling to you with his most favorite dragon shaped toy pressed between your bodies, listening to your husband walking around the bedroom, getting ready for the lectures at the University, being blessed with afternoon classes.
The day was perfect indeed. Until it absolutely isn't.
Sometimes you really want to kill your boss. It must be today that you are called to work to help with an emergency, that no one knows how to deal with except for you. And the fact that your boss does not consider any possibility of you having trouble with doing what's required, makes you fume harder.
"Li, I don't know what to do!" You cry in frustration, buttoning your shirt. "We can't find a babysitter in ten minutes! You have to go to work, I have to now too, we can't just ask Ganyu to cancel her plans, she's been waiting for this sleepover for weeks, and I can't take Xiao with me - by the sound of it I won't have a single moment to look after him."
It's been no longer than five minutes since you received that call, but you are already as stressed as after a week of non-stop work. Why must've the stars aligned this way!?
Your husband - bless his soul - is fully dressed and is holding your little son perched on his arm, supporting his back with a hand, watching your frantic movements with sympathy.
"I don't think I'll have many spare moments either, my love. Only breaks between lessons. Let me think," the man hums, leaning Xiao’s body more onto his shoulder and reaching for his phone with a free hand. The boy wraps arms around his neck, watching you brush your hair with a pout. The plan was to spend the whole day together with mama, watching cartoons, playing, maybe going for a walk or, ideally, taking a nap, finishing it all with making dinner and welcoming papa home. Now, it seems to him, all these plans are thrown out of the window.
However, Xiao was always a very perceptive and patient kid - he sensed somehow when the situation couldn’t be helped and him throwing a fit - not like he would - would only cause more trouble. That is why he is quietly waiting for what comes next.
And finally Zhongli finds a solution.
“I’m calling Ajax. He mostly spends time at the teacher’s lounge. As far as I know he really loves kids and has several younger siblings, he should be able to handle our son. And during breaks I’ll be taking over” “Oh,” as good as it all sounds, there is an instant hesitation in your mind. “‘Li, you sure you can ask him that? It’s a big deal after all…” “I know, dear, I know. That’s why I am calling him now in advance to make sure it’s alright,” your husband dials the number of his department’s secretary and puts the phone to the ear. “I don’t even mind paying him if he agrees.”
In reality you had nothing to worry about. The gingerhead was more than willing to watch your five-year old son. Maybe willing isn’t the right word even - the young man is excited.
Zhongli is lucky to arrive before the current class ends - the less attention is drawn, the better. He collected everything he could think of to occupy Xiao during his time at the lounge in a bag, which he passes to Ajax the moment his son and him are introduced. However while the secretary is wearing a wide and kind smile, the boy is glaring up at him from under the brown bangs, boring his strikingly golden eyes in the tall figure.
“Dad, I don’t like him,” the little boy pouts, hugging his plushie even tighter and throwing daggers at the gingerhead from behind the dragon’s mane.
“Ouch, little guy,” with a dramatic gasp, the young man clutches the shirt on his chest and presses the back of his hand to the forehead. “How will I live? Hated by Mr Rex-Lapis’ son…”
“Now, now, Xiao,” Zhongli gently pats his head, bending down to look into his eyes and finding displeasure there. “It’s only for today, baby. Me and mom are really sorry for not spending time with you today. I promise that soon I’ll be home for two whole weeks.”
To that the boy’s eyes widen.
“Two weeks… That’s fourteen days?”
“That’s right, sweety.”
“That’s a lot!” He jumps, elated by the news, no trace of dissatisfaction written over his cute smiling face.
“Haha, it is, dear.”
“Wow, Mr Rex-Lapis, your son is really smart!” The secretary stopped playing hurt, instead clapping his hands together in praise and nodding his head in approval. “How old is he?”
“He is five. Yes, he learns really fast.”
“No wonder, he has you and your wife as parents.”
The remaining 20 minutes before his first lecture Zhongli spends in attempts to make his son comfortable not only around Ajax, but also at the new place as well. All that time Xiao doesn’t let go of his ever-present companion - a toy dragon, which he is hugging close to his chest. He politely greets every professor that comes to the lounge, which makes the secretary’s jaw drop since he is the only one who’s been initially rejected and, Zhongli can swear, he saw his boy smirking in the toy’s fluffy mane.
Other professors can’t help but mention how much the son resembles the father, even making small talk with the boy, whom they’ve only heard about before or seen in the framed picture of your family on Zhongli’s desk. By how polite (sorry, Ajax) and shyly sweet he is Xiao quickly becomes everyone’s favorite, pockets currently full with all kinds of treats.
When it’s time to go, the man kisses Xiao’s forehead goodbye, promising to be back in an hour and a half for a break, and grabs the materials. Once he leaves alongside his colleagues, Xiao sighs and, ignoring his temporary caretaker, moves to the bag his dad left, starting to dig out all the candies to put them into its side pocket.
“Whatcha doin’, little guy?” The young man is at his side in two long strides, curiously watching the boy’s actions. Xiao gives him a side eye, before deeming the question plausible and turning back to his task.
“I don’t want them right now. I’ll bring them home and share with mom and dad.”
“I am sure they’ll like that,” Ajax hums, busying himself with the contents of the main section. “Oh, would you look at that! It seems that your dad packed some coloring books, toys and… oh, puzzles! You like puzzles?”
The boy quietly nods. Tiptoeing, he tries to see the two boxes his temporary caretaker is holding, and the young man immediately crouches down to let him look.
“This one is new,” Xiao finally points to the box in his left hand. Ocean blue eyes skim over the picture of a phoenix, drawn in a simple yet elegant style. Yes, that definitely looks like something Mr Rex-Lapis would’ve bought for his child’s entertainment.
“Alright, let's get you behind your dad's desk,” golden eyes sparkle and a glimpse of wonder appears on the boy’s face. Dad showed him his own space at the lounge; it's tidy and organized, with all the necessities sorted inside the drawers and some notes and pictures pinned to the corkboard on the wall to the left. He wants to see them closer!
His caretaker drags the chair back, but climbing on it Xiao performs himself. As Ajax is humming something while tearing off the tape on the puzzle box, the boy turns to look at the photos Mr Rex-Lapis has on display. It’s so funny, really - not so long ago this little fella’s father was an image of reserve to students, no one knew who his wife was or the fact he had two kids. The secretary remembers how just half a year ago he used to be among those only ones who knew of the professor’s secret (which, in reality, wasn’t a secret at all). Why hasn't he ever spilled any info to the students who adore him?
Well, what fun would’ve been in it?
“Is that your big sister?” Xiao quickly glances up, taking notice of how the tall (but not as tall as dad) man hovers over where he is sitting and points at one of the pictures. The boy looks at it again.
“...yes. It’s Ganyu.”
“I have a sister too,” the fond expression on that freckle-covered face and a seemingly lightened color of those ocean-blue eyes disarms the five-year old a little. He blinks, waiting for what more he can tell. “Not one actually. Oh, and I have brothers too. One is your age, by the way!”
“Doesn’t it get too… loud?” Small hands reach for the carton box, lifting the lid.
“It does, in a good way though. But when our two huskies join in on the fun… Let’s just say it’s a good thing we have our own house.”
“You have dogs? That’s so cool! I want to have a pet too,” Xiao unceremoniously empties the contents onto the table, yet carefully places the lid with the picture against the monitor of the computer. “Mom promised that when I get older, they’ll buy me a bird.”
“Oh? You love those?”
“Mhm… Maybe we’ll buy something as pretty as…” he pauses, looking at the fiery bird. Ajax quickly realizes the struggle.
“A fo-nuhks,” Xiao prompts.
“Yeah… A fee-niks.”
As the minutes tick by, the boy’s initial hostility seems to evaporate. He still doesn’t talk unnecessarily much, but he does talk to Ajax, so that's progress. He is quite quick to finish the puzzles, and his temporary caretaker makes sure to praise the child. They talk a bit more about their respective families, Xiao even introduces him to his dragon companion. And the gingerhead picks the small fox-shaped keychain his elder sister knitted for him to play toy pals.
For another half an hour it manages to entertain the boy, but as the end of the class is nearing, he grows more and more distracted, glancing either at the door or the clock hanging high on the wall. It’s not hard to guess he is missing his father and is anticipating his return, but both Zhongli and Ajax can do nothing to just speed the time.
What professor can do though, is excusing his class ten minutes earlier, quite happy they got to get through all the material he prepared for this lecture. Bidding the students goodbye, he locks the door of the auditorium with his suitcase inside and puts the key in the pocket of his fancy vest to come back in twenty minutes.
When Zhongli enters the teacher’s lounge, he finds the secretary showing his son something on his own laptop. However, once Xiao’s eyes spot his dad’s figure in the doorframe, the little guy is down from his chair and running all the way to the man.
“Dad!” Mr Rex-Lapis barely has time to close the door and scoot down to catch his son, who nearly bumps into his legs, threatening the man’s balance. Finally in his arms, with his own tiny ones tightly wrapped around strong neck, the carbon copy of Zhongli happily smiles and Ajax has to rub his eyes to make sure he is not hallucinating. Wow, this boy can smile like that (sorry, my guy, you are just not his favorite, though now tolerable at least).
“Hello, Xiao,” Zhongli plants an affectionate kiss on his son’s cheek. “I see you’ve missed me,” the words are answered with eager nods. “Did you have fun with Ajax?” At least some of it.
The gingerhead lifts his eyebrow when the boy looks back at him, holds the gaze of ocean blue eyes for a moment, and then turns to his father once more.
“I suppose.”
The older man has to clear his throat with a polite cough so as not to break into a smile at the image of the assistant's slack jaw.
“That’s good, my dear.”
“Are we coming home now?” His son wonders, fingers playing with the longer locks of dark brown. Unfortunately, the answer is a dejected sigh.
“I am afraid we are not yet, sweety. But mommy texted me recently that she’ll be able to come get you after my second lecture. And then I’ll have one more.”
At the promise of you soon arriving to take him home, Xiao’s just building pout quickly disappeared. It’s okay, he can wait for a little bit longer. And that fox-like man isn’t bad, his company is quite nice. He even showed him some pictures of his family - almost all of them are ginger. Oh, and he promised to download some simple games onto his dad’s computer so he could play. And he still has his coloring books back there and he believes he saw you packing a small book - there is plenty to entertain him with.
Only for all these thoughts and motivation to be shuttered when someone knocked on the door and a second later some student’s head pushed through the gap. None of the three people currently present in the room could’ve anticipated what a black hole is about to be opened.
“Good afternoon, is Mr Rex-La- Oh, professor, you are here! We were wondering if we could take the key to leave our bags inside? As always? Oh, hey kiddo- Wait, a kid???”
“Dad, who is it?”
“DAD!?”
Before anyone could do anything, loud gasps break their way into the lounge. It appeared that almost the whole group was standing in the hall and heard everything crystally clear. Of course students are curious. Of course, they know about professor Rex-Lapis’ kid - the news and that cute picture from an online lecture were still the talk of the whole faculty just a couple of months ago. Of course, they want to see those sweet cheeks for crying out loud!
Ajax is the one who has to get everyone who does not belong in the room out and calm them all down as more than a dozen youngsters beg and plead with Zhongli to bring his baby boy to the lecture. And the said baby boy doesn’t help the situation either, looking at his father with those striking eyes, silently asking to stay with him. “I’m gonna sit very-very quiet,” he even promises.
Is it really a surprise that Xiao ends up sitting at his dad’s desk with his coloring books while the man is reading a lecture? (Students almost crumbled when their tall, handsome, enigmatic history professor walked into the auditorium with his son’s tiny hand clasped in his? Look, he even had to bend his body a little to do so!)
And, as much as students want to gush all over their favorite professor’s small-sized carbon copy, they keep their best behavior, because the situation gives the “once in a century” vibes and they’d be damned to destroy the magic of the moment.
Well, maybe a little, because the smallest interactions between Zhongli and his son as the man lets his students finish writing down information from the current slide are mind-blowing. Groupchat-blowing too.
Even cuter the whole occurrence becomes when the boy stops drawing and lifts his head, curious of what his dad is speaking about. He turns slightly in order to see the presentation, golden eyes skimming over the pictures and words, though he does not understand most of it. But it’s alright though - he can listen to his father instead.
Zhongli is pleasantly surprised when no one can answer one of his revision questions and Xiao lifts his hand, giving him the answer he wanted (he misspells the word a little, sure, but he knew the right response nonetheless). Aaaand that’s probably when the students finally lose it.
By the time the lesson is over and Zhongli meets with you in the teacher’s lounge to pass your very happy and very proud son to you so you two could be on your merry way home, the man feels a little drained. Nothing that can’t be fixed by your tender cheek kiss and soft rubbing on his back, but he still exhales heavily and swears that when he comes home, you are in for a new story.
And by what Ajax had time to tell while you’ve been waiting, you're sure it’s going to be a hilarious one.
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taglist: @meimeimeirin Cause I remember how you once said you'd love to see more of this AU
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satoruyes · 7 months
Text
co-parent bakugou
katsuki bakugou x reader (part two)
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   fwb! bakugou who often came by your dorm during college to drop off school work when you missed lectures and loads when you missed him.
fwb! bakugou who came by before bed to fuck you into your pillow and listen to your hushed moans, hushed so your roommates wouldn’t hear. (they did)
fwb! bakugou who’s scared of committing because he “couldn’t see you in his future” and was too focused on his.
fwb! bakugou who’s late night visits became more and more scarce.
fwb! bakugou who months later soft launches his new partner on his story after telling you he’s not ready for a relationship.
fwb! bakugou who stops breathing at the sight of your name popping up on his phone as he cuddles his partner while watching movies, and nearly has a stroke at the “Im pregnant.” text. 
_____
“well are ya sure it’s mine?” he asks, not daring to look away from you. you break eye contact and look outside the coffee shops’ window to focus on anything other than this conversation you’ve been dreading. “are you serious? you should know i’m not exactly one to sleep around,” you say to the man. he nods and his grip on his mug gets tighter, knuckles visibly whiter. “well, are ya keepin’ it,” he asks, “i don’t think  that’d be a bright idea for either of us.” you kind of glare but think over his words. “you know how my parents feel about abortion kats.. i’d be disowned. the second the press found out about it, my family would be done for,” your eyes start to water and a tear threatens to fall, you pause “.. i thought you said you don’t do relationships?”
katsuki stares at you and shakes his head, “those fuckin’ hormones already getting to your brain or somethin?“ he sighs, “you know i can’t do this *nickname*. i’m in a committed relationship with raya, we’re getting engaged next month. on top of that, i can’t be number one with a baby leechin’ of me.” your heart drops, “you’re.. getting engaged? i.. um.. well, congratulations. i’m sorry to burden you with all of this… and i can’t abort it anyway.. i.. i’m too far along.. and i cant do this.” you finish & get up from the table and leave.
________
baby daddy! bakugou who ends up losing contact with you for months after you block him on everything a refuse to meet up per your family’s request.
baby daddy! bakugou who nearly forgets about you years later til kirishima brings you up and shows him your instagram.
baby daddy! bakugou who gets home and stalks you from a burner account, finds out you still talk to everyone from college but him.
baby daddy! bakugou who sees a pretty little ruby-eyed girl down your timeline, her resemblance to him uncanny.
baby daddy! bakugou who pulls some strings and texts your number asking to meet his daughter, hana. 
___________
hana is 2 years old by now, forming choppy sentences and now waddling on her feet. after a week of texting, you finally fold and let him come over to meet his daughter. when you open the door to let him in he nearly finds himself choking on his spit at how beautiful you are. you looked even better than your posts, if that’s possible. you greeted him with a nod and invited him in. he takes his shoes off and head to the living room you led him to. you exchange stale pleasantries and small talk til you decide to go get your baby girl. “her name is ‘hana lei bakugou,’ as much as i wanted her to have my last name.”
you walk over to him and hand her to him, noticing the wedding band resting around his ring finger. you scoff, “wow so you two actually got married?” he nods and analyzes his daughters’ features. “shes so pretty, just like ‘er momma,” he half smiles and look up at you. “so i’ll have her back later tonight, gonna take ‘er home to meet the wife and all of that.” he goes to get off the couch. “woah, you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to come back back after all this time like nothing happened.” he looks frustrated for a second, “you can’t just- … yea yer right, ‘m sorry.’’
you nod, “how about we go up to her room and play?” he agrees and follows you into his daughter’s bedroom while carrying her.
“So.. how long have you two been in the area?” he asks, scanning his daughter's room. “I never really left, just moved closer to the city i guess,” you reply; putting hana down to the floor. She waddles over to katsuki. “hana, baby this is your father,” you look down at the little girl. At first she looks up at you with her glowing beady eyes then she looks over to Katsuki sitting over on a couch. “papa?” she asks and she points her dainty finger at him. you nod and smile. “yes baby, that's your papa.” 
katsuki looks at the little girl and she reaches up for him. “up.” she says, and he obliges. you two talk and rekindle for what seemed to be days. In reality it was just about 4 hours. “*name* it was really nice to see you again, let's go out for dinner sometime. with hana of course.” you lead him downstairs while he says his goodbyes to hana. 
-- 
“I told ya about this years ago raya, you can't be mad about this. What did you expect? for them to disappear?” bakugou yells at his wife. “well i didnt fucking expect you to go out of your way to to reach out either!” she pouts, anger and jealousy laced in her tone. “I have to own up to this responsibility now whether you like it or not, stop fuckin’ cursin’ at me. ‘m already stressed as is; ‘ion need yer bitchin’.” 
“oh so now i'm bitching because you went out and got some slut pregnant.. you're just full of it katsuki.” raya says, glaring at him now. “ya cant get mad at me because I wanna be a father, ‘nd not just leave some kid stranded out here.” 
“it's not just about the kid is it? do you miss the bitch or something? do you miss the sex? did she give you better head than I do?” raya accuses, bakugou sighs and goes to leave the room, “‘nd yea- she did give better head.” as he walks to their shared room he can hear her still yelling in the distance.
katsuki bakugou goes to sleep confused tonight. He wonders why was he such a prick. he wonders why did his heart pound so fast- why were his hands so sweaty when he saw you.
he couldn't do this. he has a wife. hes happily married, regardless of any arguments. his wife was the mayors daughter and promised him various things, she promised him glory. of course he didn't need her but it's definitely more helpful to have more "support." plus you hated him, only putting up with him for the sake of his daughter. no, it wasn't attraction- it was just nervousness. he loved his wife.
katsuki woke up to his wife, raya in his arms. she looked so pretty and peaceful like this. he snapped out of his daze and got out of bed to catch a shower. he couldn't help but find his hand reaching down to take care of himself. usually when he finds himself touching himself; its of thoughts of his wife from the night prior. but today it was you. he felt shameful but he just couldnt help it. he couldn't stop himself from thinking about you. hes only human.    
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