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readsaboutreid · 5 months

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Everything To Me | S.R.

summary: Spencer is in love with his coworker and best friend and goes all out to celebrate her birthday on the day after when she catches her boyfriend in bed with another woman when they arrive home from a case.

this is 100% season 1 spencer

warning: cheating, making out, angst/comfort

“(Y/N)! Wait up!” Spencer stumbled, tripping over his feet as he hurried to catch the elevator with his friend. He covered the distance from his desk to the elevator doors in record time as (Y/N) hit the button to presumably hold open the doors for him. He slid in and stood next to her while panting lightly. He really needed to do some cardio, he noted to himself.

“Wow, with speed like that I should start calling you Barry Allen,” she giggled, making Spencer's heart flutter in the best and most terrifying way and drawing a laugh out of his throat (even though he didn’t really get the reference). He couldn't help it when all he could think about was how much he wanted to hear that laugh every day for the rest of his life.

“Sorry,” he flashed a sheepish smile at her and ducked his head a little bit as he felt his cheeks heat up slightly.

“Hey, uh, I was wondering if you had any, uh, any plans for the evening? There’s a Star Trek: The Next Generation marathon and I know that’s your favorite Star Trek series so I was thinking maybe we could hang out and maybe get some takeout?"

"That sounds like it would be a hell of a time," she began. Spencer could already feel the incoming, "but I promised Warren I'd spend the evening with him since it's my birthday and all." Spencer had to keep himself from making a face at the mention of her asshole of a boyfriend, not wanting to upset her, and so instead he opted to skip over that and react to the next part of her statement.

"Wait it's your birthday? Why didn't you say anything? We all would have done something to celebrate before going home today," Spencer started kicking himself internally. How could he not have known today was her birthday? The two of them had become attached at the hip pretty much since she started at the BAU 4 months ago. She had even celebrated his own birthday with him and the rest of the team.

“Hey, it’s okay! You don’t need to feel bad or anything, I tend to just treat my birthday like it’s any other day so I often just don't even tell anyone when it is,” she shot him a sweet smile in an attempt to assure him that it was okay but it didn't make him feel any less guilty.

Spencer's heart sank a bit at the thought of not being able to celebrate (Y/N)'s birthday with her, but he knew Warren was important to her regardless of how much Spencer and the team disliked him. He mustered a smile and nodded, "No worries, spending time with Warren sounds great. Happy birthday, (Y/N). I hope your day is as wonderful as you are."

(Y/N) blushed at the compliment, waving it off modestly. The elevator dinged softly, indicating they had reached the ground floor. As the doors slid open, they stepped out into the bustling lobby of the FBI building. Spencer glanced at his watch and realized it was already late in the evening.

"Well, I should let you get going. Have a fantastic birthday night with Warren," Spencer said, trying to hide his disappointment behind a cheerful facade.

"Thank you, Spencer. I really appreciate it. We should definitely catch that Star Trek marathon another time," she replied with a warm smile before turning to head towards the exit.

Later in the evening, Spencer found himself sitting on his worn-out couch, a container of lukewarm Chinese takeout resting in his lap as he absentmindedly watched reruns of Star Trek. His mind kept wandering back to the encounter in the elevator with (Y/N) earlier that day. The missed opportunity to spend her birthday with her weighed heavily on his heart.

Just as Captain Picard was about to make a diplomatic decision that could change the course of an entire star system, Spencer's phone rang, jolting him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen to see (Y/N)'s name flashing brightly.

With a mixture of confusion and worry, he answered the call. "Hey, (Y/N), is everything okay?" His heart clenched at the sound of her quiet sobs on the other end of the line.

"Spencer," her voice cracked, "can you... can you come pick me up?"

Without another word, Spencer sprang into action. "Of course, (Y/N). I'll be right there. Where are you?" Spencer's voice was filled with concern as he quickly grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, leaving behind the half-eaten container of Chinese takeout and the flickering TV screen showing Star Trek.

As he drove through the quiet streets towards (Y/N)'s location, thoughts raced through Spencer's mind. Why was she crying? What had happened? He couldn't bear the thought of her in distress, especially on her birthday.

Finally reaching the spot where she said she would be, Spencer spotted (Y/N) sitting on a bench outside of a sketchy looking apartment complex, her head buried in her hands. He parked the car and hurried over to her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-streaked face.

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" Spencer knelt down beside her, gently placing a hand on her back. She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, and he felt a crack in his chest

as her trembling voice filled the cool night air.

"I... I waited for Warren at my apartment, but he never showed up or called. I got worried and went to his place," she paused, taking a shuddering breath before continuing, "I let myself in with my key, and... and I found him in bed with another woman."

Shock rippled through Spencer as he struggled to process her words. The image of (Y/N) standing in the doorway of Warren's apartment, witnessing such a betrayal, tore at his heart. Anger flared within him, directed not only at Warren but at the unfairness of it all. How could someone as kind and genuine as (Y/N) be treated so callously?

Without hesitation, Spencer pulled (Y/N) into a tight embrace, offering her solace in the warmth of his arms. He felt her tears soak into his shirt as she clung to him, seeking comfort amidst the storm of emotions raging within her.

As she sobbed into his chest he felt tears pricking his own eyes. He gently cupped her head and started stroking her hair in an attempt to soothe her before saying, “let’s get you into the car, okay?”

As Spencer led (Y/N) to his car, he couldn't shake the image of her devastated face from his mind. The weight of her heartbreak hung heavy in the air, suffocating him with a sense of helplessness. He opened the car door for her, watching as she settled into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," Spencer murmured softly as he started the engine, casting a sympathetic glance her way. "You deserve so much better than this."

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. "I should have known better than to get my hopes up. This is why I never celebrate my birthday. It’s more trouble than it’s worth," she confessed, her voice laced with resignation and nothing more than a whisper by the very end. Spencer's heart clenched at her words. He wanted nothing more than to ease her pain, to show her that she deserved all the love and happiness in the world.

"You deserve to be celebrated, (Y/N)," Spencer said with conviction, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light of the car. "No one has the right to make you feel otherwise. You are kind, beautiful, and deserving of all the love and joy that life has to offer."

Spencer's words echoed in (Y/N)'s mind as they drove through the quiet streets of the city, the soft glow of streetlights casting a serene ambiance over the car. The heaviness of her heart began to lift ever so slightly, buoyed by the sincerity in Spencer's eyes and the comfort of his presence beside her.

As they reached a stoplight, Spencer turned to (Y/N) with a tentative smile. "How about we make a detour?" he suggested gently. "There's this little ice cream shop a few blocks away. Maybe some ice cream might help lift your spirits."

(Y/N) managed a small smile in return, touched by Spencer's thoughtfulness. The simple gesture felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds that had gathered around her heart. "That sounds nice," she replied softly, her voice still tinged with sadness but with a glimmer of gratitude shining through.

They parked near the ice cream shop, its cheerful neon sign beckoning them inside. The bell above the door jingled as they stepped in, greeted by the sweet scent of freshly made waffle cones and a colorful display of ice cream flavors. Spencer guided (Y/N) to a cozy booth by the window, where they could watch the world pass by as they indulged in their frozen treats.

As they savored their ice cream, the heaviness in (Y/N)'s heart began to thaw, melting away with each spoonful of creamy sweetness. Spencer listened attentively as she shared snippets of her favorite childhood memories, her voice soft and wistful against the backdrop of cheerful chatter from other customers.

Once they had finished their ice cream, Spencer suggested another detour. "There's this little vintage store down the street that always has some classic movies on sale. How about we pick up one of your favorites and head back to my place to watch it?”

(Y/N) hesitated before saying, “I don’t know about picking up anything from a store but is that Star Trek marathon still on?” The slight amount of hope in her voice made Spencer’s heart flutter with a mix of relief and warmth. He had been longing for a chance to make her smile, to see a glimmer of happiness light up her eyes once more.

Nodding enthusiastically, he replied, "Absolutely! We can swing by the store another time. For now, let's head straight to my place for that Star Trek marathon." The anticipation in (Y/N)'s eyes was palpable as they made their way to Spencer's cozy apartment. The familiar scent of old books and fresh laundry greeted them as they stepped inside, the soft glow of string lights casting a warm ambiance over the living room.

Spencer turned the TV back on, dimming the lights to create a cozy home-theater atmosphere. They settled on the couch, surrounded by plush pillows and soft blankets, basking in the nostalgic thrill of the sci-fi classic unfolding on the screen.

As the episode played on, Spencer got up and reheated the Chinese food from earlier and putting it on plates for each of them. He grabbed himself a fork and got one of the sets of chopsticks from the restaurant for (Y/N). As he made his way back to the living room he saw (Y/N) happily rocking back and forth as she watched Data and Geordi share another one of their intriguing engineering discussions. Spencer couldn't help but smile at the sight, a flicker of contentment lighting up his own heart as he handed (Y/N) the plate with her food and settled back onto the couch beside her.

Between bites of General Tso's chicken and sips of hot tea, Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over him. The soft glow of the TV cast shadows across the room, creating a cocoon of warmth and familiarity around them. The gentle hum of the spaceship's engines on screen seemed to lull them both into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional chuckle or comment about the characters.

After a few episodes, Spencer found himself stealing glances at (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye, admiring the soft curve of her profile as she watched intently. He could see a spark of joy in her eyes, a fleeting moment of escape from the weight of unspoken emotions that lingered between them. Sensing a rare moment of vulnerability, Spencer cleared his throat softly before turning to (Y/N) with a gentle smile.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he began, his voice soft and tentative. "I was wondering... If you could have done anything for your birthday today, what would it have been?"

(Y/N) paused, her gaze shifting from the screen to Spencer. Her expression softened as she considered the question, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "You know, I've always wanted to visit the Smithsonian," she murmured, her eyes distant with longing. "And maybe the Botanic Gardens too... It's on my list of things to do someday."

Spencer nodded, committing her words to memory as he filed away the simple desires she shared. He made a mental note to himself, silently vowing to make those dreams a reality for her someday.

As they finished the last episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Spencer noticed the clock on the wall ticking closer to midnight. With a sense of reluctance, he turned to (Y/N) and said, "I hate to cut this short, but it's getting late. I should call a cab for you."

(Y/N) looked up at him, a mixture of disappointment and understanding in her eyes. She nodded quietly, gathering her things and slipping on her coat. As Spencer dialed for a cab, he couldn't shake off the feeling of missed opportunities hanging heavy in the air.

The subdued sound of the approaching cab echoed through the quiet street outside. Spencer opened the door for (Y/N), his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll be picking you up at 11 am tomorrow so be dressed and ready," he said, surprising both himself and (Y/N) with his sudden declaration.

Confusion flashed across her face as she stammered, "But... why? Where are we going?"

"Just make sure you’re ready,” he smiled, ideas blossoming in his mind as he decided he was going to show her what her birthday meant to him. He closed the cab door behind her and waved as the car drove off before turning on his heel and heading back inside, preparing to show his best friend the time of her life tomorrow.

Spencer woke up at 8 am the next morning to the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, illuminating his room in a golden hue. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretched his arms above his head and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Today was going to be special; he was determined to make it a day that (Y/N) would never forget.

Remembering her mention once that morning glories were her favorite flower, Spencer decided to start by weaving a delicate flower crown out of the vibrant blooms he had picked from his backyard garden. As he carefully intertwined the petals and vines into a crown fit for a queen, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of seeing (Y/N) wear it.

After finishing the flower crown, Spencer's thoughts drifted to a memory she had shared with him long ago. Before her parents had passed away, they used to build her a pillow fort and hang fairy lights in it on special occasions. Determined to recreate that sense of childhood magic for her, Spencer set about constructing a fort in his living room. He gathered every pillow and blanket he could find, stacking them strategically to form the walls of the fort. With a bit of effort and creativity, he managed to fashion an elaborate yet cozy hideaway filled with soft cushions and twinkling fairy lights. His PhD in Engineering was finally seeing some use.

As he stepped back to admire his handiwork, Spencer's heart swelled with a mix of emotions. The soft glow of the lights cast a warm, inviting aura over the fort, creating an atmosphere of whimsy and nostalgia. He could almost picture the look of wonder on (Y/N)'s face when she saw it, and the thought filled him with a sense of anticipation.

With the fort completed, Spencer glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time to pick up (Y/N). Quickly changing into a clean shirt and vest and grabbing the flower crown he had made earlier, he made his way out the door, excitement bubbling in his chest.

As he drove to (Y/N)'s apartment, Spencer's mind was a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. He parked the car a few blocks away, wanting to give himself a moment to compose himself before their day together began. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and started the short walk to her building.

The street was alive with the sounds of the city waking up - the distant hum of traffic, the chatter of early risers going about their day. But in Spencer's mind, all he could focus on was the image of (Y/N) in his mind, wearing the flower crown he had made for her.

Finally reaching her apartment building, he climbed the steps to her floor, his heart pounding in his chest. Standing in front of her door, he took one last deep breath before lifting his hand to knock.

The sound echoed through the hallway, reverberating in Spencer's ears as he waited with bated breath. After what felt like an eternity, he heard footsteps approaching from inside the apartment. The soft shuffling of footsteps grew louder, and Spencer's pulse quickened in anticipation. Suddenly, the gentle click of the door being unlocked filled the air, and it slowly swung open to reveal (Y/N) standing before him.

She looked breathtaking. (Y/N) was wearing a simple yet elegant dress with cute buttons lining the front and a delicate peter pan collar. Her chin length bob was slightly curved under her chin and her bangs fell across her forehead in such a perfect way and Spencer looked away quickly, his cheeks burning when he realized he was staring. For a moment, they stood there in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.

Then, Spencer slowly brought forward the flower crown he had hidden behind his back, holding it out towards (Y/N) with a shaky hand. “Happy birthday," he finally whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he nervously offered her the crown. The soft petals of the flowers brushed against her fingertips, and (Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise and delight as she took the flower crown from Spencer's hand. A small gasp escaped her lips as she held the delicate creation, a mix of awe and gratitude shining in her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Spencer, it's beautiful," she murmured as she gently placed it atop her head, her voice soft with emotion. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow that illuminated her features, making her look even more ethereal. In that moment, caught in the gentle morning light, Spencer felt a swell of affection for her that threatened to overwhelm him.

After a beat of silence filled with unspoken words hanging in the air between them, Spencer cleared his throat and offered a hesitant smile. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, his heart beating a little faster at the prospect of spending the day with her.

(Y/N) returned his smile with a nod, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she looped her arm through his, the flower crown perched delicately on her head. They strolled down the bustling street, the city waking up around them with a cacophony of sounds and scents. Spencer couldn't help but steal glances at (Y/N), her presence beside him filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt before.

Their first stop was a cozy bookshop just across the street from her apartment building. The bell above the door chimed softly as they entered, and the scent of aged paper and ink enveloped them in a comforting embrace. Rows upon rows of books lined the shelves, each one whispering promises of new worlds and adventures.

"Pick out as many as you'd like," Spencer said, gesturing to the endless array of titles surrounding them. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she wandered through the aisles, her fingers trailing over spines in search of stories. He watched as she made her way through the shelves until she reached the SciFi/Fantasy and Horror section and begin removing books from the shelves, reading the backs and either adding them to the stack in her arms or placing them back on the shelves.

Spencer couldn't help but admire the way (Y/N) immersed herself in the world of books, her eyes alight with a passion that made her even more enchanting. She moved with purpose, carefully selecting each book as if it held a piece of her soul within its pages. His heart swelled with fondness for her, her love for literature reflecting a depth to her character that he found endlessly captivating.

As (Y/N) returned back to him, her arms filled with a stack of books that seemed to reach towards the sky, she gave him a sheepish smile. "I might have gotten a bit carried away," she admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Could you help me narrow things down a little bit?”

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. "No need to apologize. Let's see what treasures you've found," he said, reaching out to take a few books from her arms. Together, they perused the titles she had chosen, discussing the plots and themes. After they had no luck in narrowing down the pile, Spencer scooped them all up into his arms in a stack and began making his way to the checkout stand.

"Why bother narrowing it down?" Spencer's voice was filled with a playful lilt as he carried the stack of books towards the checkout counter, (Y/N) trailing behind him with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Impressive selection," the bookstore clerk commented as he rung up the stack of books, each title a window into (Y/N)'s interests and desires. (Y/N) beamed at the compliment, her eyes shining with confusion and gratitude as Spencer pulled out his wallet and paid before she could even reach for her own from her bag.

As they left the bookshop, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the crowded streets. The sounds of the city swirled around them—honking cars, lively chatter, and the distant rumble of a passing train. Spencer glanced over at (Y/N) walking beside him, her face illuminated by a soft radiance.

(Y/N) quickly unlocked the door and placed the bags of books onto her dining room table before they walked back outside. Spencer patiently waited as she locked her door before holding his arm out again for her to grab on to as he lead her to his car.

As they arrived at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, Spencer's steps were light with anticipation. The air was alive with the promise of discovery, and he couldn't wait to share this world of wonders with (Y/N). The museum loomed before them like a giant treasure trove, its grand architecture a testament to human ingenuity and ambition.

Stepping inside, they were greeted by a vast hall filled with aircraft suspended from the ceiling like metallic birds frozen in flight. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in awe, her gaze flitting from one exhibit to another as Spencer led her through the maze of history and innovation.

"This is the Wright Flyer," Spencer said, pointing towards the iconic biplane that started it all. "It's incredible to think that this simple machine paved the way for all modern aviation."

As they moved deeper into the museum, Spencer's voice became a gentle murmur of knowledge and passion. He regaled (Y/N) with stories of astronauts who dared to venture beyond Earth's atmosphere and the technological advancements that made it all possible. (Y/N) listened with rapt attention, her eyes shimmering with wonder and admiration for both the exhibits and the man beside her.

Each artifact held a story, a piece of history waiting to be unraveled. Spencer's explanations brought life to the static displays, turning them into vibrant tales of human courage and scientific progress. He pointed out the intricate details of each spacecraft, each spacesuit, each photograph, as if they were sacred relics in a grand temple of human achievement.

As they entered the lunar module exhibit, (Y/N) gasped in awe at the sight of the actual spacecraft that had touched the surface of the moon as well as a piece of rock from the moon that was free for visitors to touch. She reached out a hand as if to touch it, but stopped herself, as if afraid to disturb the fragile connection between past and present.

Spencer noticed her hesitation and smiled softly. "It's okay, you can touch it," he encouraged. "Feel the history in your fingers."

(Y/N) tentatively reached out and brushed her fingertips against the cool, pitted surface of the moon rock. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass through her as she made contact, connecting her to a distant world that had once seemed so unreachable. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the weight of history and the magnitude of human achievement.

Spencer watched her with a mix of admiration and fondness, his heart swelling with a bittersweet ache at the sight of her emotional response. He longed to reach out and comfort her, to share in this moment of vulnerability and connection, but he held back, knowing that some experiences were meant to be felt in solitude.

As they moved on to the space shuttle exhibit, Spencer's voice took on a reverent tone as he explained the intricacies of space travel and the courage of those who dared to venture into the unknown. (Y/N) listened intently, hanging onto his every word as if they were precious treasures. The stories of the astronauts and their daring adventures resonated with her in a way she couldn't quite explain. It was as if each tale of exploration and discovery tugged at something deep within her, awakening a yearning for the stars that had long been dormant.

After exploring the wonders of the cosmos in the Air and Space Museum, Spencer suggested they visit the Museum of Natural History next. (Y/N) eagerly agreed, her curiosity piqued by the promise of delving into the mysteries of the natural world.

The moment they stepped into the museum, a wave of earthy scents enveloped them—the musty aroma of ancient fossils, the fresh green fragrance of preserved plants, and the tangy scent of minerals. (Y/N) took a deep breath, savoring the rich tapestry of odors that surrounded her as they ventured deeper into the exhibits.

Spencer guided her through halls filled with towering skeletons of dinosaurs, exotic taxidermy specimens, and sparkling gemstones that seemed to whisper tales of ancient worlds and forgotten creatures. His voice, now a gentle hum of fascination, wove intricate stories of the natural wonders before them, each exhibit a chapter in the never-ending book of Earth's history.

With every step, (Y/N) felt herself being transported back in time, her senses overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and scents of a world long gone yet preserved within the walls of the museum. She marveled at the sheer diversity of life that had once inhabited the planet, from the majestic bones of a towering T-Rex to the delicate wings of a butterfly frozen in time.

As they reached the Butterfly Pavilion, (Y/N)'s eyes lit up with childlike excitement. She walked among the lush greenery, her fingers gently trailing over velvety leaves and vibrant petals as she inspected each plant with keen interest. Spencer watched her with a soft smile, his admiration for her knowledge and passion shining in his eyes.

"It’s like stepping into a living kaleidoscope," (Y/N) breathed, her voice hushed with wonder. "Each butterfly and moth, every plant here tells a story of adaptation and survival. Look at this one," she gestured to a plump monarch butterfly sipping nectar from a bright orange bloom, "did you know they migrate for thousands of miles to escape the cold?"

Spencer was happy to listen intently to her spout knowledge that he already held, captivated by the gleam in her eyes and the animated gestures that accompanied each explanation. He found himself falling even more deeply under her spell as she shared her wealth of knowledge, her voice growing more animated with each tidbit of information.

As they wandered through the pavilion, (Y/N) pointed out the intricate patterns on the butterflies' wings, explaining their purpose and significance with a mix of scientific precision and unbridled enthusiasm. Spencer couldn't help but be swept up in her passion, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of her so fully immersed in her element. Her rarely used PhDs in Botany and Microbiology shone brightly through her words and actions as she explained the importance of every living thing within the enclosure down to the network of fungal mycelium in the dirt, making Spencer see her in a whole new light. The way she spoke about each species of butterfly or moth, each plant or fungus they saw, showcased not only her expertise but also her deep love and respect for the natural world.

Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word, just as she had done with his tales of space exploration earlier. He admired the way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her hands gestured animatedly as if conducting a symphony of knowledge and wonder.

As they reached a secluded corner of the pavilion, (Y/N) knelt down beside a cluster of milkweed plants, her voice soft and reverent as she explained their importance to the monarch butterflies. Spencer watched her intently, a sense of peace settling over him as he observed her in her element. He then checked his watch, his eyes widening in realization as he saw the time. They were going to be late for the dinner reservation he had managed to secure at the new Italian restaurant (Y/N) had been longing to try for months. With a gentle touch on her shoulder, Spencer interrupted her explanation about the symbiotic relationship between the milkweed plants and monarch butterflies.

"(Y/N), as much as I hate to interrupt your fascinating lesson, we should start heading out. We have a dinner reservation," Spencer said apologetically, a hint of regret in his tone.

Startled by the mention of dinner, (Y/N) straightened up, her eyes widening in surprise before a sheepish smile crossed her face. "Oh gosh, I completely lost track of time! I'm so sorry, Spencer. Let's go."

They hurried through the Butterfly Pavilion, their steps quickening as they made their way to the exit. Spencer opened the passenger door for her as they approached his car, and they soon found themselves seated inside as Spencer started the engine. The warmth of the setting sun bathed the interior in a golden glow, casting long shadows across (Y/N)'s face as she fastened her seatbelt. She glanced over at Spencer, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and anticipation for the evening ahead.

The drive to the Italian restaurant was filled with comfortable silence, the only sound the soft hum of the radio playing a mellow jazz tune in the background. Spencer stole glances at (Y/N) from time to time, admiring how the fading light accentuated her features, casting her in a soft, ethereal glow.

Arriving at the restaurant, they were greeted by the tantalizing aroma of garlic and tomato sauce wafting through the air. The cozy ambiance of the place enveloped them as they were led to their table, nestled in a corner with a flickering candle casting dancing shadows on their faces.

As they perused the menu, (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight as she scanned the offerings, her excitement palpable. Spencer couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the romantic candlelight surrounding them. This moment, this simple act of sharing a meal with her, felt like a glimpse into the life he had always wanted but never dared to reach for.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and shared stories. (Y/N)'s eyes sparkled with joy as she recounted a hilarious mishap at work, and Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word once again. It was moments like these that made him forget about his own worries and fears, immersing himself in the present moment.

As the waiter brought out their food, the table was soon filled with plates of steaming pasta and fragrant sauces. The first bite sent a burst of flavors dancing on (Y/N)'s tongue, and she couldn't help but close her eyes in bliss. Spencer watched her savor each mouthful, her expression a symphony of delight and contentment. The flickering candlelight played on her face, accentuating the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

Spencer's gaze lingered on her, a sense of longing tugging at his heart. He wanted to freeze this moment in time, to etch it into his memory forever. The warmth of the restaurant, the soft glow of the candle, the sound of (Y/N)'s laughter – all of it wove together into a tapestry of perfect happiness.

But beneath the surface of their shared joy, Spencer felt a pang of bittersweet realization. This was just a moment, a fleeting interlude in their lives. Tomorrow, they would return to their separate paths, their separate dreams.

As (Y/N) reached for her glass of wine, her hand brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Their eyes met, and in that brief moment of connection, Spencer felt a surge of courage wash over him. As they finished their meals, the waiter returned to their table with a flourish, presenting a tray of decadent desserts that Spencer had secretly ordered while (Y/N) was in the bathroom. A smile played on his lips as he watched her eyes widen in surprise and delight at the unexpected treat.

"Spencer, you didn't have to do this," she murmured, her voice soft with gratitude.

"It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone gentle yet tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Would you like to enjoy it here or take it to go and eat it while watching something?"

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between the cozy restaurant ambiance and the promise of a quiet moment elsewhere. After a brief pause, she decided, "Let's take it to go."

Spencer nodded in agreement and politely requested the bill. As he settled the payment, a sense of resolve settled in him, guiding his actions as they left the restaurant. The cool night air caressed their skin as they walked towards Spencer's car parked just around the corner. He opened the passenger door for her, a gesture that was both chivalrous and intimate.

As they drove through the city streets, (Y/N) couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity that gnawed at her mind. Why were they headed to Spencer's apartment instead of hers, as she had anticipated? Her thoughts raced, trying to find an explanation for this unexpected turn of events.

Upon arriving at his apartment building, Spencer handed her the to-go boxes with their desserts before unlocking the door. A sense of bewilderment washed over (Y/N) as she followed him inside. Before she could voice her confusion, Spencer moved behind her and gently covered her eyes with his hands, guiding her further into his apartment.

The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air as (Y/N) let herself be led by Spencer through the dimly lit hallway. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and curiosity, her trust in him unwavering as he guided her with careful steps. The soft shuffle of their feet echoed in the corridor, creating a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her own pulse.

After what felt like an eternity of darkness behind her closed eyelids, Spencer's hands finally left (Y/N)'s eyes, revealing a mesmerizing sight before her. As she blinked away the temporary blindness, a gasp escaped her lips at the magical scene that unfolded in front of her.

The room was transformed into a whimsical wonderland – an elaborate pillow fort stretched across the space, twinkling with fairy lights that cast a warm, inviting glow. Soft blankets cascaded down like waterfalls, creating nooks and crannies that held the promise of cozy comfort. The air was scented with old books, eucalyptus, and lavender, adding to the ethereal atmosphere that surrounded them.

Spencer watched (Y/N) with bated breath as she took in the sight before her. The flickering lights danced across her face, illuminating the awe and wonder reflected in her eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, suspended between reality and a dream.

"Happy birthday, (Y/N)," Spencer's voice was barely a whisper, filled with a vulnerability that he had never dared to show before.

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, moved by the effort and thoughtfulness he had put into creating this enchanting surprise. She turned to face him, her heart overflowing with emotions she struggled to put into words.

"Spencer, this is... it's perfect," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with emotion. She reached out to grasp his hand, holding onto it as though afraid this magical moment would slip away if she let go.

As they settled into the cocoon of blankets and pillows, Spencer grabbed his laptop from his desk and popped a DVD into the disc player. The opening to a movie he had never seen but had heard her talk about multiple times, Clueless, played in the background but all he could do was look at her. Under the twinkling of the fairy lights he could almost swear she had to be a fairy herself. That’s the only thing he could think of that would explain her beauty.

As the movie played on (Y/N) explained to Spencer that it was actually an adaptation of her favorite novel by Jane Austen, Emma, which did little to make him feel the main character was more likeable but watching her happily chatter about the movie filled him with a sense of comfort and affection. This is how it should always be, he thought to himself, wrapping his arms around her as she settled against his chest.

They sat and cuddled in a comfortable silence until it was broken by her voice, soft and timid as she said, “hey Spence?”

“Hm?” He hummed into her hair, his eyes closed.

“Why did you do all of this?” She queried, sounding like she was on the verge of tears, which immediately pulled Spencer from his half asleep haze.

Spencer thought about his next words carefully, taking so long that (Y/N) was about to ask if he had fallen asleep before he finally responded. “After seeing you so heartbroken last night and seeing how Warren just tossed you aside like you didn’t matter I just felt like I should show you how much it means to me that you exist." His voice was gentle, barely a whisper as he confessed the depth of his feelings for her.

(Y/N) felt her breath catch in her throat at his words. The vulnerability in his voice touched her heart in a way she had never experienced before. She turned to look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and care reflected back at her.

Tears glistened in her eyes as she reflexively leaned into his hand as he reached to cup her cheek, caressing it with a tenderness that spoke volumes. "Spencer," she murmured, her voice filled with emotion, "you didn’t have to—I’m not worth all this—I-I don’t—"

He placed a finger on her lips, silencing her words. "That’s what I’ve spent all day trying to show you, (Y/N). You are worth it. You are worth everything to me," he whispered, his gaze unwavering.

In that moment, (Y/N) felt a rush of emotions swell within her, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gazed into Spencer's eyes, seeing a depth of love and sincerity that she had never expected to find. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

As they sat there, suspended in time, (Y/N) felt a gentle tug at her heart urging her to lean forward. She hesitated for a moment, uncertainty clouding her mind as she debated the implications of such a gesture. Could she allow herself to be vulnerable again after everything she had been through? Was it worth risking her heart for the possibility of something more?

But before she could overthink it any further, Spencer's gaze softened even more as he leaned in towards her. In the briefest moment of hesitation, his lips hovered centimeters away from hers, silently asking for permission. And just as he began to pull back, (Y/N) plunged forward, closing the distance between them as she pressed her lips against Spencer's. It was a tender, tentative kiss filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had lingered between them for so long. The world seemed to stand still as they shared this intimate moment, their hearts beating in harmony.

Spencer was momentarily stunned by the sudden turn of events, but as he felt (Y/N)'s warmth against his lips, all doubts and insecurities melted away. When they finally pulled away, they were both met with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. There was a charged energy in the air, a newfound connection that sparked between them like a flame igniting in the darkness.

"(Y/N)," Spencer whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he searched her eyes for confirmation.

(Y/N) simply smiled, a radiant expression that lit up her face with joy and relief. “I love you, Spencer,” falls from her lips before she crashes them back against his.

#criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #light angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic

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charliemwrites · 9 months

Note

In this 1fur1 au….may I raise you wolf!price? The dog/man basically struts right into your home out of the woods and immediately takes his place as pack leader. It doesn’t matter that you’re supposed to be the one giving orders, price is in charge now.

You want to get off the couch and away from the mass of cuddles? Absolutely not. Price will be giving you a look so domineering you are sitting right back down no questions asked. He has you well trained ;)

The others don’t seem to mind the new addition either, making way for a new top dog. Price is quiet and doesn’t cause trouble, but if you’re late home be prepared to face his doggy wrath

Okay, so I love this concept, but I’m gonna raise you one - and write a new part for it.

(Don’t worry, Gaz is coming soon. This ask just really spoke to me lol).

This is also a part 1 — part 2 coming soon.

Three fuck-off sized wolf dogs is a lot. Like, a lot. There’s the fur, the food, the playtime. And then just the sheer clinginess. You’ve always thought of yourself as a dog person, that they just naturally are drawn to you because you tend to be quiet and respectful of boundaries.

Your boys though. They’re something else. Johnny was the easiest of the three to acclimate to your household. When it was just the two of you, bonding and learning him was easy. Whoever had him first had already done a lot of the work training him. And he naturally seems to like girls better so.

Ghost was more difficult. Clearly some trauma there, and a more wolfy-attitude towards humans. Primarily that he doesn’t seem to understand (or agree with) dumb pet things like harnesses, collars, and about 50% of the commands you give him unless you use your Serious Voice. He’s gotten less stingy with affection as time has gone on and his trust in you has grown.

Helped in part, you think, by learning his personality and behaviors. He’s a creature of strict habit. Likes his routines. Likes his space even more; you’ve always been respectful when he wanders off to another room, or when he climbs off the couch to lay nearby but not with you. You never mind, just call that you love him and leave him be.

Konig has been your biggest challenge so far. A lot of trauma there. And possibly a naturally shy personality; though it’s so hard to tell after everything he’s clearly been through. He’s been improving steadily each day, little by little. He’s sweet as can be, affectionate and snuggly when you manage to get him to join you and the others. The least aggressive with men when you take them for walks.

You’re lucky, the boys are so well-behaved — dislike of men notwithstanding. Scary dog privilege is a true blessing when you live alone, with no close neighbors, and right next to the woods. And they are so ridiculously sweet with you at least.

Still, they can be a lot. Any one of them is nearly the size of you, when all three of them decide to act up, it’s overwhelming.

Johnny will starting howling, pissed that Ghost has pinned him again. Ghost will start barking and grumbling - presumably trying to shut him up. And then Konig will insert himself, whining and tapping his feet, trying to break them up, you think.

Sometimes they’ll knock it off on their own, and Ghost will sneeze, shake off, and everyone will come to sit with you. But sometimes…

“Boys!”

You wade in between them, get a hold of Ghost’s scruff and push him off with your thigh against his muscular shoulder. Nearly trip over Johnny as he tries to scramble up and get at Ghost, crying and growling at the same time somehow. You curse as Konig bumps into you, nearly makes you fall over Ghost, who backs up with his nose scrunched up like he’s gonna bite.

Which is about the time you’ve had enough.

“Boys!” There’s a blessed beat of silence. “Outside, now!”

Johnny charges for the door, barking over his shoulder at ghost, who is quick to follow. Konig is slightly slower, head ducked like he knows he’s being part of the problem.

You groan with relief as they pile outside, all three immediately getting into another tussle. They’ve been keyed up the last three days no matter what you do and today seems to be the day it’s finally boiling over. You just wish it was on a day that the yard isn’t wet with mud.

Well then. You drop onto the porch steps and run your hands down your face, sighing. Best to let them stay out as long as possible — try to make bath time a little easier, at least.

You hear nails on the wood next to you, a little squeak, a snort. Figuring it’s one of the boys, you reach a hand without looking and tangle your fingers in their scruff. Pause because… that does not feel like any of your boys.

No way.

You pick your head up, turn slowly. And yup, there’s a dog you’ve never seen before. Another weird wolf one. Not as big as Konig at least. Closer to Ghost’s size — and actually similar in coloration. Cream and tan, with sharp blue eyes, a funny pattern along his cheeks and jaw that looks a bit like a beard.

“What in the…” you breathe, “is there some kind of doggy magnet on this house or something?”

You creep your fingers up his neck and around to his chin, give him a little scritch before he tilts his head to sniff at your wrist.

“Hi, handsome,” you coo, “oof.”

You hurry to prop yourself up as he shoves his muzzle into your stomach, nuzzling up under your shirt. You squeak at the cold, wet nose on your skin — and then again he licks at your ribs.

“Alright, alright,” you huff, shoving at his chest.

He backs up, though not far, ears perked forward and eyes bright. You stare back at him for a second, then sigh and do your due diligence, searching for a collar or microchip. He waits patiently until you’re done, then stands and shakes himself off.

You arch an eyebrow as he barks twice. All three of your boys stop, heads jerking up and turning to the two of you on the porch. Another bark and your little pack comes trotting back. When Johnny tries to nip at Ghost’s haunch, the new dog rumbles low in his chest. And to your shock, Johnny falls in line and slinks inside.

“Huh,” you say.

The mystery pup sneaks a kiss to your cheek before following the others inside. When you just sit there for a second, staring, he twists to look at your over his shoulder and gives you a little “boof.”

You laugh. “Bossy bastard.” And follow them in.

Main Story | Happy Birthday! | Price pt.2

Masterlist

#asks #thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #1fur1

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some-bunniii · 6 months

Text

Lucifer dotes on a pregnant!reader [Sneak Peek]

you can find the original prompt here! fem!reader with no use of y/n.

EDIT: Full fic here!

take this little (unedited) blurb from my upcoming longfic! it’s another big one folks, maybe as long as my soul deal fic when it’s finished. character building underneath all that fluff y’know. i’m 13k words in and still going strong, so stay tuned!

“So…. I was a little bored last night,” Lucifer started, adjusting his long collar nervously as you regarded him with a quirked brow, “and, well, seeing as you didn’t have much for the baby, I thought I could give you a hand, soooo I made you this!”

His arm quickly lifted towards you, and you leaned forward to get a look at the small object in his hand.

Nestled in Lucifer’s palm, was a small, yellow rubber ducky. Your eyes widened, breath hitched, as your gaze flicked from the toy to Lucifer, then back to the ducky adorned with a small, white hat. He watched your reaction intensely, and at your silence he cracked an awkward grin.

“For the little one, in case you didn’t have anything for them. It’s even got a little baker's hat, since I know that’s kind of your thing.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you took the duck gingerly from his hand, turning it over as you traced the outline of the beak, the cute little hat, and finally the adorable tail feathers curled at its back. It stirred something in you, your stomach swimming with emotions that were threatening to bubble up and consume you while staring at the toy.

He made this… for your baby? As a gift to you?

That was so sweet of him, and not even Charlie had given you something so thoughtful. Sure, she paid for a majority of your baby necessities—which you owed her your life for, no matter how much the girl disagreed—but she never presented you with something made from the heart like this.

Lucifer did, though. Even if he made a million matching yellow duckies beforehand, he still made this one specifically for you. Had your ex ever cared enough to do something like this for you? You couldn’t recall. And yet, a man who was practically a stranger before you was the one to care enough.

Fuck, you were about to cry. You tried to steel yourself, holding back tears.

You met Lucifer’s gaze after a few moments, as you softly stroked the little toy with your thumb. The fallen angel only grimaced at your reaction, his smile faltering slightly as he watched your eyes well with tears and your lip start to quiver.

“Do you hate it?” He asked slowly, and you began sniffling softly hiccups building in your chest as you blinked in confusion.

“Hate—hic—It? Why would you think…?” You started, before you felt tears welling up underneath your chin, and dripping softly onto the ducky close to your chest.

You mentally slapped yourself, of course Lucifer would think you disliked it with how emotional you were being. Shame ate at you after that. Here the King of Hell was, thinking about you and your baby and making something in his own free time, only for you to reward him with tears.

Curse these hormones!

Now, the quiet sniffles that escaped you were from both sadness and delight, as you clutched the rubber ducky closer to your chest. The tears spilled faster from your cheeks, wetting the ground beneath you. A few droplets landed on your exposed arm, and its cool touch was a welcome sensation from the heat boiling underneath your skin.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” you finally breathed, rubbing a hand across your face to get rid of the tears, before you inhaled a sharp breath to calm yourself, “I’m sorry for being such a… such a—”

You clamped your mouth shut, trying to rope in the last bit of control you had over your emotions that were threatening to come undone. You sucked in a large, sputtering breath and Lucifer leaned back, just as your lips quivered violently.

“—a wreck!” you wailed after that, placing your free hand to your mouth to try and hold in your sobs.

Lucifer jumped slightly, closing in the small distance between the two of you as he rushed to your side. He bit his lip, his hand reaching towards you to give comfort, before he hastily pulled it back.

“Wait, no! You’re not a wreck, you’re completely fine. Perfect, even! Oh, please don’t cry…”

The man was starting to pace as you held a hand to your mouth, slowly but surely clamping down on your outburst of emotion.

“Here, have another one!” A second rubber ducky appeared with a red burst of smoke, landing softly into his palm as he lifted it towards your face, “Don’t worry I have a lot more at home!”

The duckies cute little apron, displaying a cookie and two tiny wooden spoons in the shape of an X, only made your lip quiver more violently. Lucifer slowly pulled the third ducky behind his back and out of view, staring at you with concern as you tried to catch your breath.

“It’s so cute!” you gasped through the tears, before rubbing your eyes once more.

“You think so?” He replied in disbelief.

You nodded your head vigorously, smiling through the tears as you clutched both ducks to your chest. Lucifer slowly caught on, before breathing a large sigh of relief like he just avoided doomsday.

“Are… you two okay?” Came a familiar voice from the edge of the room. You turned your head to see … 🫣

ah, the wonders of hormonal pregnancy changes! sorry for the wait 😔 health issues have arisen and the motivation to write plummets when you’re in pain, but don’t worry, i’m still writing everyday and it should be out soon <3

thanks for the patience 🤍

#lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hellaverse #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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strwberri-milk · 3 months

Note

Hiiii ! I really love your work, you are amazing♡ .

Can I request how lads boys react when reader ignores them on purpose( like teasing them, , although they already figured it out ) , and how they try to attract attention ,maybe they have their own methods.. (╯✧▽✧)╯

Love ya!

Zayne decides if you're going to be childish he has no problems treating you like a child. He clocked it immediately that you're being passive aggressive teasingly and ignoring him just to mess with him. He's used to your antics and honestly, doesn't mind humouring you.

He does ignore you right back but he'll say things that pique your interest, knowing that your stubbornness won't allow you to ask him about them further. He will make mentions of wondering what to do for dinner, maybe wanting to order in as a treat but it's too bad you won't talk to him so he can't figure out what to get.

He'll putter around your home making similar statements, almost playing a game of chicken to see if you'll give up once the prize is enticing enough. It comes to an end as he's actively ordering dinner, messing with you by ordering the healthiest option - aka nothing that you would prefer - and you practically jump at him to beg that he orders something you'd enjoy eating. He simply smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, amending the order quickiy as he gives you a smug look.

Xavier doesn't really understand what's happening. All he knows is that you keep giving him pointed looks but you won't respond to anything he says. He thinks you need space from him so he decides to oblige, walking away and entertaining himself as he waits for you to start talking to him again.

You follow after him after a bit of time passes, finding him on his phone in bed. He gives you a questioning look and it's only now that you realise he still is unaware that you were messing with you. You feel so guilty when you meet his soft gaze, Xavier asking quietly if everything was okay.

You duck under the covers with him immediately, telling him that you were just messing with him because you wanted to see how he would react. It takes a couple of minutes for him to understand what you're telling him but once he does understand he unintentionally gives you the cutest pout as he sulks, asking why you wanted to mess with him like that.

You feel so guilty after he asks you that that you promise you'll never do that to him again, cuddling him closet to make up for it all. He assures you that it's okay and he isn't upset with you at all - but he will keep a mental note of it so he can mess with you back to exact his revenge on you.

Rafayel was the one who started this. He decided to start sulking after you "slighted" him (read: didn't cuddle him for long enough when the two of you woke up) and thought the best course of action would be to ignore you until you begged for his forgiveness (read: kiss him until he forgets his name).

It's more fun to ignore him in response and gives you some peace and quiet for once. You decide to read a book in the bedroom, curling up on the sheets and keeping yourself out of his way. Rafayel notices your absence immediately, throwing the door open as he stares you down. It'd be menacing if Rafayel could muster even an ounce of dislike towards you but he really can't looking more like a kicked puppy as he asks if you're seriously ignoring him right now.

You open your arms up for him to join you and he very happily joins you, nuzzling against your neck and collar like a cat. You card your fingers through his hair, teasing up as you ask if he's learned his lesson by now. You can feel him nod but you know it means nothing - you just have to bide your time until his next bid for attention starts.

#love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader #rafayel x reader #lads rafayel x reader #lnds rafayel x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #lads xavier x reader #lnds xavier x reader #l&ds xavier x reader #lnds zayne x reader #lads zayne x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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xxhexwolfxx · 7 months

Note

Can I request dating headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Halsin with gn s/o?

𝓓𝓐𝓣𝓘𝓝𝓖 𝓗𝓒𝓢

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! It’s a bit short but I hope you enjoy! <3

DISCLAIMER: None of these are not really connected. It’s just a few things I thought up.

WARNINGS: Just mention of sex in Astarion’s part.

CHARACTERS: Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Halsin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Astarion:

He absolutely loves scars on you. Especially if they’re from him drinking from you. If he’s drinking from you then he’ll kiss your scars gently.

He LOVES the sun. He loves laying with you in the sun, especially if you get sun kissed.

When he’s kissing you, sometimes he nips at your lip to drawl a little blood to lick up.

He’s SO dramatic! Even if it’s a small paper cut he’ll act like he’s dying to get your attention.

His favorite part of you is your neck. It’s not even because he’s a vampire. It’s because it’s such a sensitive part of you and you’re allowing him near it.

He prefers cuddling over sex. He’s been through a lot and wants something soft and comforting.

Gale:

I believe he likes to do origami. He likes to make birds or butterflies and charm them to fly over to you.

He was more nervous to introduce you to Tara then to his own parents. Tara is special to him so he didn’t want her to dislike you.

He reads books to you if you’re having trouble sleeping. His soft voice always puts you to sleep.

He will cook your favorite food if you had a rough day. Always seems to put a smile on your face.

He conjures up your favorite things to give to you. He loves seeing your smile.

He secretly puts protection spells on you anytime you go out. Just as a precaution.

Wyll:

He loves to dance with you. If everyone is asleep, he’ll dance with you around the campfire.

Some days he’ll tell you the adventures he’s had. Especially if it’s been a rough day.

He would try to keep you a secret from Mizora. He wouldn’t know what to do if you got hurt by her.

He would be such the perfect gentleman. Wanting to take things slow so he could truly appreciate you.

When you guys are in Baldur’s Gate, he’ll show you his favorite spots he used to go to when he lived there.

He likes to lay down and watch the stars with you. It’s his favorite thing to bond over.

Halsin:

He’s the perfect heater. If it’s cold he’ll cuddle you to warm you up. Especially if he’s in his bear form.

If you’ll ask nicely then he’ll let you ride him in his bear form. He mostly does it when you guys have been walking a lot.

If you guys aren’t busy then he’ll take you to a flower field. He’ll tell you all about the wildlife that lives there as he puts flowers in your hair.

He loves to take you to lakes to watch the ducks swimming about. After all, he likes ducks!

He whittles things for you during his down time. He usually makes your favorite animal.

If you guys live together then it’s normal to see animals walk in and out of the house. Just some friends to say hello or some animals that needed help.

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callme-darling · 7 months

Text

work tensions

or; you’re a prosecutor working a trial vincent is defending and your colleagues get the feeling there’s some underlying tension between the way you’re at each others throats

word count: 3.3k

warnings: smut, like genuinely filthy shit, fem reader, hate sex (kinda), sex in the workplace (so like semi-public ig), vincent and y/n are rivals/enemies, this actually somewhat has a plot lmao, hellllaaaaa tension, so much teasing, degradation (he say slut once), cocky vincent, begging if you squint, throat holding/light choking, fingering, no protection, p-in-v, not proofread, friendly ending (bc i’m a big softie)

a/n: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LADIES!!!! hope you enjoy🤍🤍

you were amongst the youngest of the attorneys in the city courthouse. you were fortunate in the opportunities afforded to you, but you also worked your ass off to get where you were today. which is why you, for the life of yourself, can’t understand what the hell you did to earn the contempt of vincent renzi.

from the first time you both stood in the same courtroom, it seemed like his eyes were always set in a hard glare when they saw you. so whose to blame you for reciprocating the hostility? your colleagues usually give you well-intentioned advice to at least talk to him, something you haven’t even done outside of casework. who knows, they’d shrug, maybe it’s just ill-concealed intrigue.

you were young, but you weren’t naive enough to think the esteemed defense attorney didn’t absolutely hate your guts.

some of your colleagues, however, seemed hellbent on taking matters into their own hands after a minor scuffle that left the judge’s office suspended in a tense battle of wills. the case wasn’t even that serious—just a petty case of ‘he-said, she-said’ neighbor dispute. but the simple judge’s meeting quickly fell apart to a dispute that devolved to obviously personal jabs.

when the judge finally had enough, she dismissed both you and vincent from the room with the stern instruction to “talk out whatever issues you two obviously have, and get your shit together”.

you’re on vincent’s heels as he speeds out of the room. as soon as you hear the door click shut behind you, you’re glancing up and down the hallway. vincent runs a hand through his hair, annoyance etched across his features.

“what the hell is your problem?”

you gawk at him, “MY problem?!” you chuckle at his audacity. “you’re the one who started all this-“ you wave your hands in the space between you two like some enigmatic boundary separated you.

his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, and a roll of his eyes had you seeing red. before you had a chance to properly rip his throat out, an older man poked his head out from another room, face stern as he recommended you find somewhere else to continue whatever dispute you deigned important enough to have a tempermental yelling match in the middle of the office.

with a noise that could only be chalked up at pure irritation, vincent began strutting down the hall. you were quick behind him, wordlessly keeping in step with his long strides. you weren’t done with your conversation, and you’ll be damned if you let him walk away now.

you were in an unfamiliar, and rather desolate, wing of the building when he spun around to face you, his face inches from yours as he ducked down slightly to glare into your eyes. “quit following me like a damn dog!”

your eyes widened before a hard scowl settled on your face. “not until you tell me what your problem with me is.” you fume, “ever since i got here, you have had some personal vendetta against me. you’re going to tell me why.”

his jaw clenched as his eyes scanned your face. “your feelings are hurt because i don’t like you, is that what this is?”

you roll your eyes. “that’s bullshit and we both know it. the truth. now.”

“i need a reason to dislike you?”

“you can make one up for all i care, but i’m tired of your attitude fucking with my job.”

he chuckles dryly, “oh, i see. that’s what this is about.”

your brows scrunch together. at your look of confusion, he takes a step closer, breath fanning your face as he whispers through tight lips, “it’s my attitude fucking with your job, hm? that’s what drives me so fucking crazy- you’re so blind.” he rubs a hand over his mouth, taking a breath before his eyes are hard set on you again. “don’t think i don’t see it—the way you’ve charmed our colleagues, how you bat your pretty little eyes at the judges to get your way-“

you cut him off, disbelief dripping from your words. “excuse me?”

he scoffs, “oh don’t be coy.”

“you know what, vincent,” you clench your fists, nails biting into your palms as they shook, “you can fuck right off.”

you go to turn and walk away, but a thought of venom penetrates your mind and you whip right back around, nearly nose-to-nose as you whisper low, “just say you’re threatened by me next time.”

you watch as something akin to rage flash across vincent’s face. he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but his eyes bore into yours with a silent threat that chills your spine. his tone is low, dangerous. the rasp makes the hair along your arms stand on end. “i suggest you choose your next words wisely, y/n.”

maybe it was your stubbornness, or a fleeting air of confidence, but you hold his stare, your own voice quieter but just as menacing. “vincent renzi is threatened by the fresh-faced competition and can’t stand the thought that i may be the better attorney.” were you being childish in taunting him? yes, probably. but the months of tension were reaching critical mass, and whatever thoughts crossed your mind were being said.

what had just slipped through your lips, though, was definitely the wrong thing to have said.

a hand harshly grips your bicep as he drags you to the nearest room. he flicks on one set of lights and slams the door shut. he’s fuming, you note. however, you don’t fully register just how angry he is.

he’s silent for a pregnant moment, the air suffocating as he watches you with an analytical glare, his body seemed almost animalistic in how he stalked towards with with silent strides. you feel a new form of anxiety quicken your breathing.

he’s close now, so close you can smell his day-old cologne like it were freshly applied. his voice is quiet, but it makes you jolt under his intense gaze. “you want to know why i hate you so much?”

you feel as though you’re trapped in a stupor, your mind dizzy with this newfound suspense. you give him a small nod, not trusting your voice to remain firm in this intensity.

you swear you feel his lips just barely ghost over your cheek as he speaks, nearly growling in your ear. “i hate you because you’re so infuriating.” he pauses. “the way you walk around the courtroom like it’s yours to own, how you always make the most nit-picky points. and what pisses me off the most, is how i’m so attracted to you because of it.”

you were holding your breath. you felt your mind reeling as silence settled over the room. only the sound of your own breathing and the blood rushing through your veins reached your ears as you held vincent’s gaze.

his ferocity seemed to have diminished a fraction, but his jaw remained clenched. words escaped your brain as you tried to wrack together some coherent response, anything to quell the heat burning you from the inside out.

when no such words came, you decided ‘to hell with it’.

your eyes flicked to vincent’s lips, rubbed a pretty red from his hands and teeth. then you looked back into his eyes. an exchange that required no voice.

‘do it then,’ you silently dared. do it.

and so, he did.

his palm was warm on your cheek, fingers wrapping around the back of your head as he crashed his lips to yours. the force of the kiss had you stumbling back before vincent’s other hand caught your hip.

impatient. that was the best word to describe the way vincent kissed you. you tasted his lips on yours, body humming as you become acutely aware just who you’re kissing. and the mere thought has your thighs clenching together.

there was no room to speak with the way his mouth trailed down your chin, dipping into the curve of your neck. a shudder rushes through your muscles when you feel his teeth nip at the skin of your throat, eliciting a soft gasp to fall from your kiss-swollen lips.

you can feel the faint press of a grin to your collarbone. he coaxed your legs to walk back a few steps, securing your body between the table and his own.

his breath was warm as he spoke against your shoulder, “tell me to stop.” the featherlight touch of his fingers sent jolts of electricity through you as they skimmed down your arms and over your waist. “tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll let you walk out that door.”

your lungs burned when you finally released your breath. you could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, and the deep octave of his voice was doing little to soothe it. you were surprised by your own voice’s clarity, “shut up and kiss me again.”

you felt his body melt deeper into yours as your palms pulled him in by the side of his neck. you allowed yourself to be more eager, greedier, as your tongue teased his bottom lip.

he pressed his hips firmly against yours, his rasping moan nearly making you whimper in response. he was breathless when he pulled away. the pad of his thumb stroked your bottom lip, his own shining with a mixture of yours and his spit.

“i’m going to ruin you..” he murmured, leaning down again, his lips brushing over yours as his thumb holds your chin in place.

you prop your hand on the table behind you, not trusting your legs to hold you for much longer. your voice is meeker this time as you whisper against his touch, “you can try.”

vincent kisses you with an assured hunger. his touch dominating as he grips your hips, the fabric of your skirt gradually bunching in his hold. you can sense the apprehension in him, his internal battle of morals. your hand cradles the back of his head, nails stroking his scalp as you use your other to guide his hand under your blouse. blue eyes meet yours as you chide, “you don’t have to play nice with me, vincent.” the lull of his name from your lips paired with the way you brought his palm to grope at your chest, he needed no more convincing.

“such a little fuckin’ minx.” he muttered under his breath. your skirt was bunched up to your waist, your panties shoved down your legs. he had your back flat on the tabletop, hips slotted between your thighs as his eyes raked over you.

you could feel yourself slowly dripping onto the table below you, cheeks flushed with both lust and embarrassment.

vincent smirked. seeing you laid out like this, on display for him has his dick twitching in his pants. he appraised your needy pussy, a tentative two fingers teasing your folds as your thighs trembled. he watched how you grew shy, hand hovering over your mouth as you whine at the fleeting touch.

finally, you feel the pair of fingers slide into your soaking cunt. a whimper escapes you when he’s knuckle-deep in your clenching heat, the palm of his hand grazing your clit.

his gaze is attentive as he makes note of every little reaction you have to each stroke of his fingers. he bites his lip as he witnesses your eyes softly roll back when his fingers find the spot that has your chest heaving and hips shuddering. he leans down so his ear is next to your mouth, intent on hearing every single needy little whine he lures from you. he presses his lips to yours when he feels you creep up to your climax. “are you going to come on my hand?” his eyes find yours, half-lidded and glassy, and the sight alone makes him groan as his cock aches.

“is this all it takes to have you all pretty and compliant?” the teasing lilt in his voice only makes your cunt flutter around his fingers. “not so smart now when i have two fingers in this little pussy of yours, hm?”

you swear you felt like you were going to pass out. the combination of his fingers and palm against your pussy, his degrading mocking, and taunting eyes has you keening under him in a newfound desperation as you teetered precariously on the edge. so, so close to being rendered incoherent with only two fingers.

his touch leaves you.

you whine loudly, pouting as you attempt to catch your stolen breath. you move to sit up, but a large firm hand across your collarbones keeps you sprawled on the table. you squirm under his hold. “vincent.. why?” under any other circumstances, the needy pitch of your voice would’ve made you cringe, but your depravity gave you little to care about aside from satisfying your incessant lust right now.

his voice was sickeningly taunting as he cooed down at you, his other hand brushing the hair from your face. “come on, you have to work for it.”

you could feel that familiar animosity sit on your tongue, but you hold it. though, based on the sly smile looking down at you, you got the sense he could feel it too.

“how ‘bout this..” he sighs instead. his eyes trailed over your face, blue irises harboring a certain warmth that had anticipation swirling in your stomach. “if you say a simple, little sentence, i’ll give you what you want.”

you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over what was no doubt a trap. “what would you have me say?”

the way his smile widened had your pussy clenching around nothing, the cold air making you shiver. “i want you to say: ‘only vincent renzi can make my pussy this wet’.

“oh fuck y-“

his hand catches your jaw before you could finish your crude remark. his fingers lightly dig into your cheeks as he comes nose-to-nose with you. his voice is dangerously low but a softness keeps to the edges. “would you rather me leave you here, like this? your pussy is practically weeping.” as if to reinforce his words, a hand lightly slaps against your folds. the wet sound had your face turning a new shade of red, lips pouting as his other hand still holds your face close to his.

you don’t say anything, internally battling with yourself. the tip of vincent’s tongue pokes out to wet his lips, your eyes following the minute movement with bated breaths. then his soft voice buzzes in your ear. “c’mon.. just say how i make you drip like a needy slut. let me hear that pretty voice of yours, the one you like to use so much.”

you felt a whine croak in your throat as the hand between your thighs gave your clit another tap. “i’ll give you three seconds.” his low tone warned.

“three..”

you felt your breath stutter, eyes searching his. there’s no way he’s serious.

“two..”

he wouldn’t actually leave you like this, would he?”

“on-“

“okay.” you cut him off, words rushed as you grip the wrist of the hand holding your face.

he peers down at you expectantly. the corner of his lips upturned slightly, and you hated how attractive it was.

“only vincent can make me this wet..” he’s never seen you so timid and meek than in that moment, something that only added to the building heat of the room.

“now, was that so hard?” he quirked a brow, fingers playing with your aching cunt as he notes the way your slick soaks his palm. “you’ve done your part, so be a good girl and take what i give you, yeah?”

you nod dumbly as his hand drops from your jaw. your body felt like it was buzzing, heart hammering in your chest as you watched him fumble with his pants, pulling his leather belt off with one hand.

he plants a searing kiss to your lips, a trained dominance permeating his movements. you moan against him, hips twitching as his pants brush against your bare core. a hand slides between your bodies to free his leaking cock from his slacks. you swallow any sounds he makes as his hand strokes his dick a few times. “you got to stay quiet. think you can handle that?”

you ignore the obvious taunt, hand on the back of his neck as you pull at the ends of his hair. “just fuck me already, vince.”

he chuckles dryly, but you sense the anticipation crawling under his skin. next time, you’ll be the one making him beg.

a drawn out gasp fills the room as you feel him slowly begin to sink into your tight heat. fuck, you felt dizzy as your cunt pulsed, sucking him in deeper.

you both moan in with quiet sighs when he bottoms out. he starts slow, but eventually finds a rhythm that has you whining with each thrust, your whimpers gradually growing in volume as his thumb toyed with your sore clit. he curses under his breath, a large hand gripping the sides of your throat.

his voice was labored but firm, “you want the entire firm to hear how you sound with my dick in you? be quiet.” he warns again.

you try, you really do. your hand is over your mouth, eyes watering with unshed tears as his pace quickens. your other hand flies to his shoulder, nails biting into his shirt in a silent plea. his voice floats back to you. “but staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?”

“fuck, oh shit-“ you whimper, eyes screwing shut when you feel the start of your orgasm wrack through you. “vincent, please, oh-“ your eyes fluttered as his grip around your neck tightened a fraction.

“i told you, you would eventually start begging.”

you can barely hear him over the erratic pulsing in your ears. your entire body tenses, cunt clenching around his dick like a vice. he hisses above you, teeth gritted as he watches you come undone.

he pulls out of you, stroking himself a few more times before he’s coming on your pussy and thighs.

you lay on the table, breathing hard as you come down from the orgasmic high. you stare at vincent who’s already watching you, breaths sharing a calming rhythm. when you feel more like yourself, you start to sit up. he hands you a box of tissues, eyes daring to glance at the mess he made on you.

you attempt to straighten your blouse, the collar of which looks as though it had gone through a windstorm. your eyes scan the floor for your panties.

vincent’s palm offers the small ball of satin into your fingers. your gaze catches his as he suppresses a grin. “wouldn’t want to be caught without these, would you?”

you glare at him, though it’s void of the usual hostility. you finish straightening your clothes, blouse retucked into your smoothed-out skirt. you turn back to vincent who’s been put back together for a couple minutes already, leaning against the wall idly.

your mind screamed at you to fill the silence, to say something to settle the oncoming disquiet.

to your surprise, it was vincent who broke the silence first. “who would have thought that this is something you’re into?” his eyes appraised you again. there was no adversity in his jest, only a gentle prodding.

“you can’t say that like you didn’t just fuck me the same.”

he nods, toothy grin starting to crack through his lips. you can see the way his fingers twitch, itching to hold a cigarette between them.

“want a smoke?” you offer, testing the waters.

his eyes catch yours, and he holds your gaze for a moment. then the first genuine, true smile you’ve seen from him is directed at you.

“i’d like that, yes.”

#♱₊˚✧ filth .#swann arlaud #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d'une chute #vincent renzi #anatomy of a fall vincent

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inoreuct · 1 year

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punkflower where hobie loves the morales family, loves how they’re becoming HIS family.

still, the first time jeff calls him “son”, he has such a visceral reaction.

he knows it’s coming from a good place and he knows he should be touched, but he’s only ever been called son in a condescending way. in a “know your place beneath me and stay in it” way. he feels so sick all of a sudden, nausea roiling in his gut, and his knee bangs against the underside of the table as he screeches his chair back and mutters a shaky “’scuse me”.

he hears rio’s concerned call of his name, sees the confusion and dread on jeff’s face right before he turns and leaves. he doesn’t stop until he’s up on the roof, ducking into the bottom of the water tower and collapsing into a corner.

stupid. it’s so stupid, and it pisses him off how tears are burning down his cheeks.

hobie scrubs them away with the back of his wrist even as he hears the door to the roof creak open, hears the familiar gait that he knows belongs to miles. he keeps his face turned away as his boyfriend appears in his line of sight, stepping gingerly like if he moved too fast hobie would break.

the punk sniffs angrily, the spikes on his cuff poking his cheek as he wipes his tears again. a hand brushes his against the ground as miles sits down beside him, close enough to touch but not quite.

he waits. for miles to say something, anything; to ask for an explanation, or offer words of comfort that will ultimately only make him feel worse.

in the end, it’s him that breaks the silence.

“i’m sorry,” he offers, and cringes. his voice is thick like rusted metal, scratchy in his throat. it’s scraping up against old wounds that never really healed, pulling at scabs to draw fresh blood, and it stings. “m’sorry, i just— he’s—” it feels damning to even say these words, but it’s the truth, and hobie’s never been a good liar.

doesn’t mean it’s not eating him alive, though.

“he’s still a cop, miles,” he chokes out, guilt winching around his lungs like a parasite, “and the last time a cop called me son—” hobie’s breath shudders out of his lungs as miles crawls into his space, ducking his head beneath hobie’s arm to press the punk’s face to his chest.

“i know,” miles murmurs, wrapping his fingers around hobie’s nape as hobie scrunches a desperate fist into the back of his shirt. “i know. i understand.”

hobie doesn’t think he really does, but that’s okay. if hobie has any say in it, miles will never have to go through what he did and understand what it’s like.

his voice is meek as he asks, “are they mad?”

“‘course not.” miles clicks his tongue, gently admonishing, like it’s a fact hobie should know by now; his fingers trace gentle circles into hobie’s skin. “just worried. hope you know my mama’s gonna feed you thrice the usual serving of tres leches when we get back.”

that gets a chuckle out of him at least, but the look on jeff’s face still haunts him, burned front and centre into his mind’s eye like an afterimage. “and your dad?” he feels miles go still, doesn’t resist as his boyfriend pulls back to look hobie in the eye. his voice is terribly gentle.

“he understands. it’s okay.”

hobie doesn’t think it’s okay. it doesn’t feel very okay. jeff had disliked him at first and reasonably so; he’s nothing like a person anyone would want their kid to be with.

and yet the captain had let him into their home, accepted him as miles’s person, given him a place at the table. of course rio would have sat him down and shoved food into his hands regardless, but still—

“hobie.”

miles calls his attention back, and he looks up into wide, dark eyes. his heart burns.

“he knows what you’ve been through. he knows how much you’ve grown.” miles huffs a soft laugh, rubbing his thumb against hobie’s hairline. “do you remember that time we went to your concert?”

hobie nods; he doesn’t think he can speak just yet.

“you were so nervous about what he would think, but he was stressing about looking like an old man in front of your friends. he literally said that as your boyfriend’s dad he had to out-hip all the other guys his age.”

something twists in hobie’s chest. “he’s the coolest old man i know.” he pauses, frowning. “maybe after peter b.”

miles laughs again, quietly. “he cares about you.”

hobie doesn’t doubt that. he’d let jeff and rio learn about him piece by piece, and with every sliver of information jeff had softened more; he might be the captain of the PDNY, but he was also a father.

hobie’s never really had a father.

not until he was asked about whether he preferred waffles or pancakes. until he was consulted for advice on what to wear to a pride parade. until jeff only looked at his blue laces with a tentative expression and he was hesitantly slipped a phone number to call if he ever got into trouble in this dimension that he couldn’t get himself out of, a helpline should he ever need it.

so he gets up, takes a deep breath and hauls miles to his feet. his boots clomp down the stairs; he takes care not to fling open the door and when he sees jeff and rio hovering in the living room, he holds out his arms.

rio reaches him first. she’s shorter but fierce, pulling hobie down to hug him tight, and he feels like crying again.

miles slips close to cling to his back, arms sliding around his waist, and hobie watches jeff meet his eyes with something almost anxious.

hobie’s lips twist in a smile. an i’m sorry and an it’s okay wrapped in one.

and maybe it really is okay, because when jeff comes around to squeeze them all together, hobie can’t help his relieved sigh as he thinks, this is what family’s supposed to feel like, certain as the next deep breath he takes and comforting like the broad hand that squeezes his shoulder.

fin.

#punkflower #hobie brown #miles morales #across the spiderverse #atsv #flowerpunk #miles x hobie #spiderverse #i love them so fucking much #jeff and rio care so much for this scrawny boy their son loves #hobie’s probably never had a proper father figure but as soon as jeff accepts him BAM #he’s getting dragged into talk about football and elections and the system #and he’s absolutely gobsmacked bcs jeff CARES about his opinion #rio and miles are peeking at them from around the corner and high-fiving

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six-eyed-samurai · 3 months

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SUMMARY: For the life of him, Upper Moon Six cannot figure out why he can't bring himself to kill you. It kills him inside to even think about it. A/N: Had this in my drafts for god knows how long, it's finally out LMAO. WARNINGS: Fem reader, one dead man, couple of swears...and that's about it I think

Sometimes Gyutaro really wished Daki wasn’t so picky about who she ate.

It was a particularly low time recently. The District hadn’t received much new members and most of the people Daki had deemed beautiful enough to eat were gone, throwing a whole tantrum about how she’d rather starve than consume such hideousness. They argued, he threatened her, she screamed back, but in the end he relented and continued in his search to find a meal for them both.

He wasn’t picky and could’ve eaten any time he wanted, he grumbled to himself as he hunkered down on the balcony of one of the numerous rooms in the brothel, surveying the blinding lights of the District and spitting at the arrogant men and haughty women down below. But of course he had to just feel bad about being full while his sister went hungry so Gyutaro decided to stave off eating until she did.

If there weren’t any beautiful people, he hoped Daki would be fine with someone pretty. Or at least decently average. And what luck, he had found none.

Well, lies. Gyutaro wondered how Daki never noticed her before and prayed that she never would. Perhaps it was because she was such a quiet, obedient thing that spent most of her time serving the mistress so that probably explained it. Not beautiful enough to attract the attention of clients, but pretty enough to have gotten Upper Six’s interest.

He stalked her around for a few days to figure out the best time to strike and eat her at the beginning. Sometimes she’d accidentally catch on, see that shadow hunkering behind her, but he made sure to always stay out of her sight.

Gyutaro learnt a lot of things about her that way. She liked food that wasn’t too sweet and disliked a certain type of fish. She liked to go take a walk occasionally alone, far away from the brothel. Her favorite color, the jewelry on the other girls she’d eye, when she fell asleep.

She liked ugly things too. That scrawny, flea-bitten cat from the garbage. The gap-toothed, abandoned children of the streets who flocked to her and begged for breadcrumbs. She didn’t seem to mind the out-of-fashion, worn clothes handed to her by the other girls of the house.

He’d like to think she’d like Gyutaro too.

Of course he knew it was wrong. She was food, not someone he should be thinking about constantly, whether he be out hunting for other prey or remaining dormant within Daki. She’d run screaming in the other direction if she so much as caught a glimpse of him.

Gyutaro wasn’t even sure when he had started getting the weird symptoms from watching her. He had originally thought she must be a demon herself, using her Blood Art to make him think about her 24/7, 365, make his palms sweaty and have his heart rate accelerate around her, have the persistent urges to keep following her around for no reason except to just bask in that sunlight of hers.

Probably some time after she nearly came close to realizing he was there, Gyutaro concluded. She was out with the oiran as one of her attendants that night and out of habit he had shadowed them, ducking out of sight amongst the crowds and running into an abandoned alley after nearly getting caught. The stupid cat had suddenly rushed in as well, something in its jaws, and her hot on its heels.

She had slammed into him, both falling over. Gyutaro would’ve snarled and promptly killed the person if it had been anyone else, but seeing her surprised, flustered face bathed in yellow glow momentarily froze him. She was looking at him. She was hovering above him.

He waited for the screaming.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there! Are you alright?!”

Shock left him dumb, instinct caused him to grunt in reply and quickly turn away lest she caught a glimpse of how demonically ugly he was. The cat screeched from somewhere in the back but he could barely hear it over the rush in his ears as her sweet, sweet, gentle, soft hand grabbed his and helped him up, exclaiming apologies again and again.

Then he fell, probably, and could never not think about her again.

Gyutaro abruptly growled and fled in frustration at the weird, disgusting feelings welling up inside of him. Ugly, ugly, ugly, he hated himself, he hated her, he couldn’t stand the thought of killing her, he wanted her so badly not to see him like everyone did, like she did that night, just another person-

But hey, even demons could dream, right? Gyutaro was guilty for the deaths and injuries for hundreds of humans even when he was one himself, but the sin of fantasizing what it’d be like to even be shown an ounce of affection from her, have her for himself (what was it that humans did, hold hands? Each other? He watched her pet the cat; would she pet and play with his hair like that?) made him feel a thousand times guiltier.

A horrible feeling. Like somebody had stabbed him and was twisting the Nichirin blade around in his innards. Obviously this feeling could be fixed if he ate you, got rid of you, right? …even if he couldn’t fathom eating you himself, Daki could, right? God, never mind, he never felt so…what was this feeling at the thought? So for now he just hoped that no one would notice her. Not Daki, she’d become her next meal. Not a client, they were fouler than him.

How dare they dirty your presence anyway? Who cared if they were handsome, rich, well off, of excellent lineage and all that bullshit? The fact they even thought of touching your, harassing you, having you was enough for Gyutaro to lose his mind and go crazy on a killing spree of all those suitors. If he couldn’t have you, and he knew that, they couldn’t either, and they better know that.

Daki, however…she seemed to be picking up on something off about her older brother’s behavior - he had never ignored her complaints about their stash of food running low soon before, never brushed it off with a yell and assurances he’d find more victims and not do so. Confused and indignant was how she had felt and what caused her to spy a little on Gyutaro and eventually how he was just spending his time watching some stupid girl with something sparking in his gaze she wasn’t sure what to feel about. She settled on disliking and being suspicious of it, finally confronting him about it one night.

“Onii-chan, can you just kill her and be done with it already?! You’ve been following her for more than a week now, how long more do you need to kill her?!”

“Shut up! Be grateful I’m even hunting for you.”

Daki huffed and continued yelling about something to do with being too busy with Oiran duties but Gyutaro zoned out completely, glaring upwards. He should be killing her by now. Eating her. Digesting her.

Why am I not doing that? He silently demanded.

In truth he didn’t know either. Didn’t know why he so easily gave into the slightest stupidest excuse to stalk his prey some more. Didn’t know why he thought about killing the people around her more than her herself. Didn’t know why he was decapitating the head of a man who called her slurs the other day instead of her head.

“FINE, I’LL GO KILL HER TONIGHT!”

He slammed the doors for emphasis, muttering profanities he didn’t actually mean about his precious sister as he stalked around the house and to her room. Maybe if Gyutaro killed her he’d stop feeling so ill all the time. “Ill” being used loosely, since…oh God, he liked the feeling, didn’t he?

Gyutaro slammed a fist against the wall. He’d eat her and be done with it.

But when he got to her room he could see not one but two shadows moving about inside, hear murmuring voices and smell a foreign scent…a man’s, tainted by alcohol. Gyutaro couldn’t help it, he wound up eavesdropping in a jealous rage at whoever managed to get close to her.

“You’re a - hic - pretty girl, I’m sure you don’t wanna - hic - be stuck here anymore, ne?”

“Sir, please get out, I never invited you to my room and I’m not working right now-”

“So what? You gonna - hic - do something?” Gyutaro’s nails dug into the wood as he saw a silhouette of a hand grabbing at her arm and yanking her to him.

“I’ll call the mistress if you do anything!”

“Haha, if you can get her to - hic - listen to you, I’ll let you go! I’m already offering - hic - a lot of money for your marriage contract!” The man just about threw her to the door, roughly letting go of her arm as he laughed drunkenly. Gyutaro had barely any time to hide himself in the shadows before the doors were flung open and she raced away.

Marriage? With this pathetic excuse of a-

The next thing Gyutaro knew after awakening from the bloodthirsty, furious craze of very messily murdering the man - the bastard had dared taint such a goddess! Not even Gyutaro had dare done that, too terrified she’d run from the demon that he was and he wouldn’t even be able to catch sight of her anymore - was him standing above the corpse, one sickle buried in the mutilated head…

…while two yellow eyes slowly looked back to see her standing still by the doorway.

His hands curled into fists and he fell to his knees. It was over, wasn’t it? Gyutaro would really have to kill her now, after she’d inevitably shatter his black, rotted heart into a million pieces for slaughtering someone much worse than him. Daki would not be happy at being forced to kill the whole House because he was seen either.

She…fell to her knees as well? Smiling and crying?

“I knew it! I knew you were always there-”

“NEHHH?” Gyutaro reared back, stunned. “You’re supposed to scream! Am I not ugly to you?! Say something else, you stupid human! What do you mean you know?!”

“I knew you were there,” she repeated. “Someone was always following me…you were the one who killed all those…men and left those stolen items from the other oiran for me, weren’t you? I just wondered when you’d show up…I was so, so afraid when the mistress told me I was going to be married off…I prayed and prayed you’d save me again.”

“What? No, NO!” In a flash he grabbed her by the throat and pinned her to the wall, breathing erratically as his hand gripped his sickle tight enough to crush rocks. “I’m not - I’m not saving you! You’re not supposed to be like this! I’m a disgusting demon, you stupid dunce, I’m ugly-”

“I don’t think you are.”

Gyutaro searched her face frantically for any indication she was bullshitting him. This was everything he wanted and nothing he understood. His fingers tightened their hold. She had to be lying.

She wasn’t. Her lips curved up gently and a fang poked out. “I think you’re like me.”

#Sunny's works #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro x you #gyutaro shabana x reader #gyutaro shabana x y/n #gyutaro shabana x you #gyutaro x fem reader #kny x reader #kny x you #kny x y/n

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ay0nha · 1 year

Text

Treacle Tart | Hobie Brown

SUMMARY: Underneath the mask, his eyes widened. Hobie wasn’t often surprised. His abilities would ease the pain quicker than most, but you were right; a hospital would help. But his abilities, the parts that felt like instinct, took over. The threat was taken care of, and he swung and swung, furthering himself from the aftermath only to find himself seeking you out in the end.

PAIRING: Hobie Brown x gn!reader

WORD COUNT:1.5K

WARNINGS: mentions of injuries, canon-typical things, cockney slang coming from an American, established pining, a smooch, etc.

A/N: I just say the new movie and wrote this in one sitting, so mind the errors and lack of coherency. This is ENTIRELY inspired by the lovely @strangesem‘s headcanons (find here). Enjoy. Slang used: Day’s a-dawning - Morning / Duck and dive - hide / Treacle Tart - sweetheart

It always happened late into the night. Oftentimes, if you tried hard enough, you could see the sun starting to rise above the skyline. Yet, when you squinted what was before you, the silhouette worked out to be the vigilante that gravitated towards you.

“Spider-Man—” You caught your words, seeing how he leaned against the windowsill he crawled through. His breathing was ragged and wet, representing the severity he was trying to hide. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, yeah, nothing to worry ‘bout, love—” He winced, pausing when he attempted to stand at his full height. “Just a, just a—” His usual humor was cut off by a sharp intake of breath. “I’ll be—

“No…” You shook your head, repeating yourself a few times as he attempted to push past you. Normally, he sought you with scratches, things that hadn’t always warranted things outside a pre-supplied med kit. This, though, this was out of your depth.

“Day’s a-dawning, I don’t have time to pop into hospital.” The cockney slang made you frown, and it deepened as he tried to push past you. “You know I have to duck and dive.”

“No—You can’t talk your way out of this one.” Your tone was firm, loud—different. It blocked him physically from moving past the doorway.

Underneath the mask, his eyes widened. Hobie wasn’t often surprised. His abilities would ease the pain quicker than most, but you were right; a hospital would help. But his abilities, the parts that felt like instinct, took over. The threat was taken care of, and he swung and swung, furthering himself from the aftermath only to find himself seeking you out in the end.

As strong as he tried to be, detach himself from genuine connections, you were like a magnet. You were quiet; really quiet. You’d mumbled your thank you’s, whispered apologies, and generally went out of your way not to interact with people as a whole. It was just what you preferred, how you worked. The simplicity of it, the gentleness and softness of your presence, was what drew Hobie in and what had made him return. His lifestyle was loud, he thrived in it. But to find something, someone—you—that shared likes and dislikes but in your own way was alluring.

Even now, for the man who always knew what to say, he felt at a loss for words. Blood was on your door frame, but it didn’t matter with the way Spider-Man slinked down. He slouched into his shoulder, out of pain or desire; you weren’t sure.

“...I don’t have things here for....” You pointed to the deep gash on his arm. Selfishly, you used his wounds as a buffer from the warmth that bloomed from the proximity. “We need to go to the hospital.”

“But I like you so much better.” Hobie was never shy with compliments. It was another thing simple to him; he liked what he liked and didn’t what he didn’t. You picked up on that quickly. Yet, it hadn’t quite hit you the way it was now.

You hadn’t wanted to discredit yourself, but if you said it aloud, you knew it would sound absurd. There he was the Spider-Man, standing in front of you. He was bleeding a lot, breath rough due to no doubt broken bones. Yet, his presence alone told you that his first thought was you. The warmth in your chest carried to the tips of your fingers at the realization. You could feel your hands starting to shake with nerves as you fiddled with them.

“You’re staring.” The shit-eating grin could be felt, practically burning through his mask. You envied his composure despite his state.

So with a stutter of an apology, and after stammering around for a moment, you finally accepted the job that you felt unqualified for. You could tell the disinfectant stung with every flinch Hobie offered you. You grimaced with guilt, but a part of you was relieved he was still breathing.

“Thought you were supposed to be nicer than them nurses.” He squirmed with discomfort. You knew he used humor to deflect, but you appreciated his demeanor. It calmed you as you continued to dress his wounds.

You never asked about the trouble he found himself in the middle of. It wasn’t your business, and if you truly were curious, you could turn on the news. But again, this was different, more serious. This was the first time you truly felt worried.

It caused you to focus intently on cleaning his wounds. It felt like the only thing you could possibly control. You took your time intentionally, making sure that not only the details of it were secure but that you could have a moment to revel in his tangible life.

Once finished, you both remained still. His eyes burned your skin, but you refused to look up when asking, “That’s everywhere, right? I didn’t miss something?”

Without words, he pulled at his mask, needing the air to see you directly. Your eyes flicked up to be met with deep brown ones. The piercings weren’t the shock, the desire on his expression was. He looked at you with such intent, as if every moment was planned for despite its incredible impulsivity.

“Hobie.” He introduced himself, smirk settling naturally. You blinked hard, words unable to form for a few beats. Hobie revealed himself easily, readily. It felt as though he held onto it prior only to tease you.

“You’re not supposed to tell me that.” You whispered, shock still dictating your moves.

“Nah–You know I do what I’m not supposed to.” He drawled, accent seemingly thicker. Through your consistent stare, Hobie could see the questions filtering through your eyes. He would answer them all, but he sought more of your comfort.

Despite his rough exterior and pointed words, he was soft. Especially as he traced your face with his eyes only to follow the pattern with the pads of his fingers. The night was rough, he hated to admit it, but it was. Things got out of hand but were handled.

Moments like those reminded him that he was someone under the mask. He was more than the Spider-Man. He stood for things beyond that and moments like this, moments involving you, helped ground him in his beliefs.

Mimicking the softness you offered him, he reached for your chin with a gentle hold. “I’m thinking I’m overdue for a thank you.”

“Oh?” You breathed out your words, feeling how they fanned across Hobie’s face the way his had. The draw to each other was simultaneous and had gone relatively unnoticed.

“Mhmm...” He hummed, head tilting to get a good look at you. He was memorizing the moment, the same way you had.

There was no burning, all-consuming feeling that threatened to swallow you whole. Rather, it was steady, welcomed. It had been in the making from the first time he saved you. You had apologized to him then, as if saving you from a robber had inconvenienced him. Your kindness permeated the interaction and Hobie desired more.

The joking, the teasing, all of it, was apart of an expected outcome. He resisted due to his position, wanting to keep you out of danger, to feel indifferent. But it was an injustice in itself to even think of doing that to you.

You felt silly at first, caring so deeply for someone behind a mask. The nights he didn’t come stumbling in to talk your ear off about a new album, you thought on the relationship. You assured yourself you were a friend. A friend that was there for the occasional patch up because in what reality would a superhero of all things would compromise that.

The reasoning, on either part, was to reflect so-called responsibility, but it only reflected what you both wanted. So to mix your breath, lean in close to have knees touch, it felt...good. It felt right. Your shyness was still there, but channeled in a way of excitement.

“You let me do this, and I’ll never stop.” He whispered along your lips. He needed to know he wasn’t crossing any boundaries while placing his feelings on the line.

Neither could remember how your faces gravitated towards each other, but it was most likely due to how Hobie’s thumb was to your lip, an eye trained to where he'd just traced. It was a preface to how your lips connected: quiet and barely there, a tender peck as if to soothe you mixed with something innocent. Then he pecked you once more slightly less tentative and less friendly. It wasn't until the third you melted into his touch, reciprocating the same level if not more emotion.

His thumbs brushed over your temple, and you leaned into the kiss Hobie deepened. The action made your chest heat, so forthright, as though he didn’t truly understand the emotions he invoked. Hobie took a bit of pleasure in it that maybe you’re just as affected by him as he was by you. It wasn’t a new relationship by any means, but it was, at the same time.

When you pull away, he looks slightly dazed, and you commit the sight of him like this to memory, the harshness of life nowhere to be found. “...Thank you.”

#q #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown angst #hobie brown x gn!reader #spiderman across the spiderverse

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starry-nights-garden · 10 months

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Ateez Reaction ✧ When their s/o struggles with physical affection

✧ Ateez all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: fluff, reaction, a bit of comfort? (reader doesn't dislike physical affection but feels awkward about it/isn't used to it) ✧ warnings: none

Hongjoong:

will share touches with his partner naturally once you start dating, and he'll also be very quick to realize something's off about the way you receive them

doesn't think much of it when you don't really initiate any physical affection at first, after all you might just be shy or prefer your partner to make the first step and he's fine with that

but when you hesitate to hug him back or you let your hand slip out of his hold the first chance you get, he starts becoming suspicious

"Is something up?" he'll simply question you when you avoid his touch again, not liking the current potential for conflict at all

so in case you try to brush it off at first, he'll make sure to ask again, because communicating things like this openly is very important to him

when you do end up telling him that physical affection makes you feel uncomfortable because you're not used to it, he understands and immediately apologizes

will ask what you need of him for a chance to get used to it so you can enjoy it when you share touches, and he'll do exactly what you tell him to

if you need him to go slow, he will, if you need him to warn you in advance, he'll do that, if you tell him he should keep things as they are and you'll get used to it eventually, he will wait patiently for that moment

the most important thing for him is that you're comfortable, so whatever he can do to ensure that, he will!

Seonghwa:

he's definitely not one to overwhelm his partner with physical affection and tends to be careful with initiating it, especially if you haven't been dating for long

however, when even that seems like it's too much for you, he starts feeling a bit lost

becomes awkward around you, and when you notice the way he always holds himself back last moment whenever he mindlessly goes in to take your hand or to put his arm around you, you begin feeling bad for him

so eventually you just tell him that it's not like you hate being touched, you just don't know how to react and aren't used to it

there's both surprise and relief in his expression after hearing your explanation

"Then should I ask before trying to touch you?" - he wonders out loud and so that's what you agree on

and sure enough, him being careful makes you feel at ease, and you slowly get used to what it's like to hug him, to hold his hand, etc...

until you too start initiating physical touches, and this guy finds himself overjoyed whenever you approach him even just for a simple hug

Yunho:

he's only shy about touching you at the beginning of the relationship, and seeing you being even more shy about it gives him a lot of confidence actually

that's until the first time you instinctively duck away when he's showering you in just a bit too much physical affection

he questions it immediately and asks if he did something wrong, and when you're not sure how to reply he becomes very serious

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

makes you sit down with him because this is very important to him, and he doesn't ever want to hurt you

when you tell him that physical affection can feel overwhelming to you, he tries his best to understand and asks you some more questions to try to figure out where exactly your limits are

will be careful about how and where he touches you from now on, but at the same time he'll do it in a way that still feels natural, and not like he's forcing himself to act differently

once he notices you becoming more comfortable with his touches, he'll initiate them more often, and when you're the one to approach him for a hug or a kiss, he'll be both happy and flustered about it

sure enough you're soon more than okay with sharing touches with him, and even if at some point things get too much for you again, you simply have to tell him no and he'll give you space right away

Yeosang:

he's awkward about physical affection as well, so he actually understands you quite well

to be honest he's thankful that you're not immediately all over him, because he needs a lot of time to adjust to people and to become comfortable enough to share loving touches

so while it might feel a little awkward, getting closer physically in tiny steps feels just right to the both of you

and because you're both taking your time with it, holding hands, brushing a strand of hair out of the other's face, or one leaning their head onto the other's shoulder will soon feel just natural to you

you do tell him at some point that you're usually not big on physical affection, but somehow with him everything feels right, and that's one of the moments he realizes just how much he loves and trusts you

this will end up in a kiss, maybe even your first, and even in the way he kisses you you can feel a slight hesitation quickly turning into him comfortably conveying his feelings to you

San:

it's not that he can't understand how you feel, but he'll also inevitably sulk at least a little bit about it

he'll quickly pick up on your discomfort whenever he tries to hug you with a bit too much excitement or when you get overwhelmed by the passion he pours into his kisses

and he just can't but think that it's personal, and you act like that because you're not as in love with him as he is with you

but he's also San, meaning he really can't hide his feelings for shit, so he'll end up blurting out how he feels only the next day or so

he needs you to honestly tell him that you're simply a bit uncomfortable with and not used to physical affection, and then his mood will immediately change

apologizes about a hundred times for unknowingly making you uncomfortable, and will be very careful from now on

makes it a habit to ask every single time before he touches you, even when he can barely contain his own feelings for you he'll calm down as much as he can first and ask if it's okay to touch you

and soon you feel that him giving you the space to say yes or no and the time to prepare yourself for a hug or a kiss or whatever, actually helps you gradually come to enjoy sharing touches with him

Mingi:

very unsure what to do with this situation

he thinks you don't like physical affection since you never initiate it and when he does, you always seem uncomfortable

eventually starts wondering if maybe your feelings for him aren't that strong after all and that's why you don't want him to touch you?

but then again you always return his kisses, and when you're spending time together he undeniably feels loved

he figures that maybe there's a different reason to it, and he'll simply ask you about it

feeling embarrassed and somewhat guilty, you tell him that you're simply not used to physical affection and so it feels weird to you, but it's not that you don't want to share touches with him

so what he does is offer you a hug, spreading his arms apart and giving you an encouraging smile, waiting patiently for you to accept his offer

gives you time to relax in a gentle embrace, and helps you get used to the feeling by carefully offering you more hugs or his hand to hold from time to time from now on

Wooyoung:

he's not one to hesitate when it comes to physical affection and he actually thinks it's cute how flustered you get everytime he traps you in a bear hug, pulls you close, kisses you out of nowhere, etc...

however, it won't take long for him to realize that you're not just flustered, you're actually also uncomfortable, and that's when he very quickly tones it down a few notches

will confront you about it and tell you that you should've told him to stop whenever he did something you didn't like (he might actually sound angry in the moment, but that's only because he's so worried he might've actually hurt you)

when you eventually explain to him that you're just very awkward about physical affection and he was going a bit too fast for you, he'll be relieved for the most part

can't resist teasing you about it in the future and pushing your limits just a bit, but overall he'll be careful and he'll do exactly what you tell him you need in order to become more comfortable

soon, you'll find yourself being more than okay with being touched by him and even initiating a hug yourself, and as soon as he senses you're okay with it, he's going to be all over you

Jongho:

another one who's quick to catch onto what's going on when you avoid his touches or you don't return them

he's not the biggest fan of physical affection either so he gets you, and he can mostly do without it if you really hate it that much, though there are moments where he'd really want to hold your hand or put his arm around you but he doesn't, so as not to make you even more uncomfortable

he will eventually bring it up to you if you don't speak up about it first, because he wants to understand exactly why you feel uncomfortable with him touching you

so when you tell him that you're simply awkward about it and don't know how to go about physical affection, he's pleasantly surprised

"So... you don't hate it?"

and so he'll start trying out all kinds of small touches (after giving you subtle warnings so you can prepare yourself) in order to figure out what's okay with you and what isn't, and also to show you you don't have to feel awkward about it at all

and sure enough over time that'll help you get used to it, until touches shared between you two simply come natural and don't feel weird anymore

#ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez comfort #ateez fic #hongjoong fluff #seonghwa fluff #yunho fluff #yeosang fluff #san fluff #mingi fluff #wooyoung fluff #jongho fluff #fluff #reaction #comfort

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waldau-archived · 9 months

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wanna be yours — chwe hansol | 2,208 words | fluff

i'm asexual as fuck (the irony) but friends with benefits to lovers is a delicious trope i would love to see more of. title from i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys.

gender neutral reader. college!au. warnings: mentions of sex but no actual descriptions of anything. also reader is mentioned not to like coffee, because i dislike coffee. soz <3

the last person you expected to see tonight was chwe vernon, dressed in his usual bomber jacket and slacks. yet here he is, crashing into the empty place on the sofa next to you. he doesn't say a word, simply squeezes his eyes shut and throws a hand over his eyes. dino keeps talking like there's been no interruption, but you're hyperaware of the way your legs are almost touching.

you and vernon didn't really run in the same circles before you got together, so it is odd to see him here amidst all of your friends.

"hey," you say, ducking down so you don't disturb the others.

"hurts," he says back, pressing his face into your shoulder. you look around, but no one really seems to be paying attention to you, some of them engrossed in beer pong and the others making idle conversation.

"what does?"

"my...head."

you wince in sympathy. "drank a lot?"

he shakes his head. "not that much. but i can't find seungkwan, and he has the keys to our dorm."

"so you decided to find...me?"

"better you than anyone else."

you don't respond to that, and you can tell by the way his head grows heavier on your shoulder within the next few minutes means he's asleep.

the first few months of your relationship with vernon were based solely on sex. it's the usual story — you met at another of minghao's parties (really, a catalyst for trouble), and hit it off surprisingly well with vernon. there was something you saw between you both and following it ended up with you in his bedroom.

when it was time for you to leave, it somehow didn't feel awkward. so you decided to test the arrangement another time. and another. and it's led you to whatever you have now, which is arguably more complicated than a normal relationship.

for starters, the past few weeks vernon's been visiting your dorm haven't been about sex. no, you've had actual arguments about which lord of the rings movie is the best and why shrek deserves yet another sequel. you've even baked with him, for heaven's sake (which ended not so well).

it's been less about sex and more about you fighting the urge to cuddle vernon when he throws an arm over your shoulder, or when he shares his blanket with you when you're feeling cold (which happens to be your blanket in the first place).

long story short, you like him, and he makes you feel some type of way you can't possibly let him know.

vernon twitches a bit when you pick up your cup from the table, toying with it but not actually drinking from it. you rest your hand on his thigh, hoping he doesn't wake up, while you contribute to the conversation every now and then. you pointedly ignore the looks dino's giving you.

this means nothing. vernon only found you because he knows you the most out of everyone here. he'd be in his own place by now if he'd found seungkwan.

still, there's something about the fact that he trusts you enough to fall asleep on you in front of people he's not entirely familiar with. that has to count for something, right?

people keep entering and leaving the room as the party goes on into the night. when the person next to you gets up to leave, you shift a bit down the sofa and pull vernon's head into your lap so his neck doesn't hurt when he wakes up. dino asks if he should wait for you before he leaves, but you make him go. it's not often you get to be like this with vernon, and you'd much rather he got back in one piece.

it's only when your back twinges and the music begins dying down and you remember you have an essay due next week you haven't begun working on that you decide to wake him up. you look down at the boy in your lap. he looks so much at ease, face devoid of the frown he sports every now and then. you feel almost guilty waking him up.

"vernon," you say, pushing his shoulder. "get up, both of us need to sleep."

vernon blinks his eyes open slowly. "wha'?"

"you. me. sleep. now."

"you want to sleep together? now?"

you trip on your words. "that's not what— i just need my sleep, sol." you bite your tongue at the name that slips out of your mouth. he doesn't mind his close friends calling him that, but you don't think you're there. or you'll ever get there.

"oh," he says, pushing himself up to sit.

"feeling better?"

"much," he says, running a hand through his hair. "but i had to tell you something, actually." he looks shifty. that gets your attention — vernon is many things, but he's never hesitant.

"i, um. i think we should stop seeing each other."

that shocks you the way falling into an icy cold pool would, the water taking no time to permeate your clothes and sting your skin with the cold and rendering you somewhat unable to breathe when it finally hits. "i'm sorry?"

"i said, i think we should stop seeing each other. not that the sex was bad," he says hastily, and you wince. that's a weird thing to say. "no, really. it's been great. it's just...i like someone, like, actually like them, and i feel being in this relationship would be weird."

you can't resist. "do i know them?"

vernon meets your eyes briefly before they dart away to the blank television screen in front of you. "i guess you could say that."

you rack your brains for who it could be. some names pop up in your mind: a girl from his friend group you've spoken to a few times, another from the library, the guy in english lit — but none of them shine as the number one contender for his affections.

you're one of the few close friends vernon has, but it doesn't matter. of course he wouldn't like you like that.

"fine," you say, feeling anything but. "okay."

vernon's looking at you like you're an injured puppy.

"i hope you get with whoever it is," you say, aware you sound a bit snappish, but you don't care. it's not your fault for liking someone as brilliant as vernon, only to be reminded that he doesn't really like you back. you're certain he likes your body more than he likes you, anyway.

"that's it?"

"what?"

"you're fine with it? just like that?"

you frown. "i'm not going to stop you if you want to go. we're not together. you should be with someone you really like."

"sweetheart..."

you shudder at the nickname that falls from his lips. you always like hearing it, more so the fact that vernon says it unconsciously. but now it sounds like a nail scraping against a chalkboard. you're not the sweetheart he wants. "i have a couple of classes in the morning."

"wait. it's a saturday."

"so?"

"we don't have classes on saturdays."

"yeah, well, that's you," you say, pulling out your phone to check the time. it's much later than you expected it to be. "dino's in the lab on weekends and i promised to help him out this time."

"listen—"

"i'll be glad if you let me go, vernon. i shouldn't have stayed this late in the first place."

"why are you acting so weirdly?"

you look up to see him frowning at you. why are you acting so weird, huh?

"i'm not. i just— i don't have to justify anything to you." you know you're being ruder than the situation calls for, but vernon is one of a kind. he'd taken to you despite the fact that you weren't one of the "popular" ones when you started out, and you'd managed to find a lot of common ground with him.

but the fact that you thought he'd like you back was stupidity on your part. you curse dino for hinting vernon might like you back.

"i'm sorry," you say, resting a hand on vernon's arm for a moment. he moves back at the touch and your stomach sinks even further. "i'm sorry this didn't work out. i hope you get with whoever you like. i'm just...tired. a bit. i hope this doesn't mean we'll...stop being friends?" it's a stupid thing to ask, but it's your last resort.

"i would," vernon says, crossing his arms, "if they weren't so dense."

"what?"

"i'd love to get with them if they realized i don't call anyone else sweetheart."

you freeze. you become aware of the people still present in the room, someone laughing, bottles clinking, bass still thumping, but— sweetheart?

"what are you trying to say, vernon?" you ask, making your voice as steady as possible.

"i'm trying to say that the person i want to get with doesn't really understand what flirting is."

you almost drop your phone. "no. vernon, you're not doing this. you don't mean it."

"i do."

"vern—"

"i'm not drunk anymore, see? and i do mean it. i don't just want us to be friends with benefits. i want us to be more. i want to take you out to dinner and stay up hearing you talk about why freud is the worst person you've ever had to read about. i want to watch whatever the heck it is you like. i want to date you. if you want me to, that is."

you're more surprised at how lucidly he's speaking, without a pause, more than what he's saying. but the meaning of his words slams into you like a tidal wave hardly a minute later. "if i want to, he says," you laugh helplessly.

vernon raises a perfect eyebrow. "well?"

you sigh and fiddle with your phone cover. "i don't— i've never been in a real relationship. not a long term one."

vernon moves closer to you, your knees now pressed against each other despite the fact that there's no one else on the sofa you're sharing. you can't even bring yourself to care about all the other people in the room. "really?"

you nod, feeling a strange sense of embarrassment creep up your neck. vernon simply lays a hand on your thigh. "hey. you know that's not a bad thing, right?"

you shrug.

"it's not," he repeats, rubbing his thumb across your knee. "and it doesn't bother me. is that what's troubling you?"

you shake your head. "you're just...the first person to want to be with me, even if it's just for sex."

"hey, it hasn't been all for sex. what about all those movie marathons we had? and that one time i helped you bake a cake for jun?"

"you mean you tried?"

vernon flicks your forehead, but moves in immediately to kiss it. the slight touch has you burning up, and you pray he doesn't feel it. "yeah. tried. but that's the thing, isn't it? it wasn't always about the sex for me. was it...the same for you?"

you can't get yourself to lie now. "it was," you say, putting your phone down and taking his free hand, fiddling with his fingers. "it is. i didn't mean to clam up like that. it's just...i want this with you, too, vernon. i've spent so long thinking about it. i'm sorry."

vernon sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "don't apologize, sweetheart. and it's a relief. i've never felt this way with anyone before. also, i've only had a couple of flings before you, but i really want this to go somewhere. and i want to try it with you."

you try to speak, but nothing comes out. you bury your face in your hands. "aren't you supposed to be drunk?" you ask.

"you always sober me up, sweetheart."

you shake your head and let it fall against the back of the sofa, vernon's hand cushioning the fall. there's silence for a while before he speaks.

"you know, no one's like that."

"like what?" you ask, slightly affronted. "is that supposed to be an insult or a pick-up line?"

vernon laughs a breathy laugh. "no friend with benefits offers to look after their partner when they're bored or drunk or whatever. and they certainly don't show up to basement music shows. you're...really the only person who gets me, you know? but now that i know you, like, really like me..."

"like you back."

you love his grin. "can i take you out on a date?"

"i...don't drink coffee," you say breathlessly.

vernon raises an eyebrow.

"milkshakes. or i could drink coffee, maybe. you like it, so i can try."

"there. again. you're too nice for your own good."

"it's just...me. i can't help— mmph," you get cut off when vernon leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. and another. you push him away before someone notices and teases you.

"i'm going to get some sleep, and we'll meet tomorrow. at a good place. not in my bed."

"you mean today."

"do you want me to cancel on you?"

"no," vernon laughs against your hair. "tomorrow. anything you want."

#i don't know if college dorms allow you to have ovens and stuff in your room so for the sake of this fic y'all live in apartments #chwe vernon #chwe vernon fluff #hansol #hansol fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #vernon #fluff #waldau writes #🍃 — svt

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another-lost-mc · 1 year

Note

i am kinda in the mood for some angst~_~

if you are comfortable can i request the side characters reacting to their s/o (mc) was in a middle of a panic attack in front of them and fainted suddenly ?

thank you!

When MC Faints/Has a Panic Attack Scenarios | DIAVOLO, BARBATOS, SIMEON and SOLOMON 3.3k words | SFW | gn!Reader | Hurt/Comfort | Angst Content Warnings: Mentions of physical injury/illness and unspecified trauma, protective and possessive thoughts/behaviour, use of pet names.

DIAVOLO

Diavolo doesn’t get as many opportunities as he would like to explore the human world. He mentions wanting to visit there more often, and of course, he wants you to go with him. When you jokingly offer to join him as his tour guide (and his friend, and his lover), he has to balance his reckless sense of adventure with the responsibilities of being a prince.

With some gentle persuasion from both of you, Barbatos agrees that it's acceptable for his young master to indulge in a well-earned vacation. Occasionally.

(There may be extra paperwork waiting for Diavolo on his desk when he returns, but he reminds himself that it’s worth it to spend more time with you.)

Diavolo’s enthusiasm knows no bounds. You show him brochures for the amusement park you’re taking him to - the largest in your home country - and he’s already made a list of all the rides he wants to go on and the special attractions he wants to see.

You’ve been there before, and you brace yourself for a long, busy day.

You arrive together when the park gates open, and it’s an endless circuit of ride after ride after even more rides. It’s a sunny, humid summer day and by noon you’re dripping sweat and trying to reapply sunscreen with shaky hands. The concession stands make a fortune from the overpriced bottled water Diavolo buys for you, but it seems like your throat is parched beyond relief.

Diavolo’s current interest is the park's inverted upside-down roller coaster. You've been on this ride in the past and enjoyed it, but for some reason you feel a sense of dread while you wait for your turn in line. The scorching heat blazing on the back of your neck and shoulders does you no favours.

When it's your turn at the front of the line, Diavolo helps you into your seat before he sits next to you. He dangles his legs and kicks his feet happily when the floor lowers away.

As your seats slowly stutter up the steel track towards the first big hill, your eyes start to blur and you try to blink the sensation away. The ride has you twisting and rolling through the air at incredible speeds, but it feels like you’re still falling in an infinite drop.

When the ride comes to an abrupt stop, Diavolo laughs and offers you his hand when you stumble out of your seat. You follow him as best you can, but the world seems to tilt. He smiles when he feels you lean against him. He’s about to ask if you want to get in line and ride the roller coaster again, but you don’t answer - he catches you when you start to fall.

The amusement dies on his lips and he scoops you into his arms. He carries you through the crowd until he ducks behind a concession stall out of view of potential onlookers. He looks around discreetly before using teleportation magic to take you back to the Devildom.

As soon as you materialize in the Demon Lord’s castle, he shouts for Barbatos and kneels with you on the ground so he can examine you. He doesn't understand what's wrong. Your eyes are open but they’re unfocused. You’re talking, sort of - it’s more like incoherent mumbling under your breath, but he thinks you’re trying to say his name. He brushes his lips across your forehead and cheeks and it suddenly occurs to him that you feel so warm.

He thinks about all the times you mentioned that you disliked the summer heat in your home country, that you would get dizzy in the sweltering humidity. You didn’t like being in the sun for too long and he teased you about how often you were reapplying your "sun block."

Diavolo feels like a failure for not being more considerate of your needs. He watches helplessly as a royal healer kneels down and begins casting restorative magic on your weakened form. Diavolo promises himself he’s not going to let something like this happen to you again - not if he can help it.

(He won’t know until later that you saw a humidex warning pop up on your phone the morning of your trip, but you didn't want to cancel for his sake.)

After Barbatos consults Solomon and verifies that you simply need to rest and to stay cool and hydrated, Diavolo carries you to his room. He lays you on the bed you share and curls against your side protectively. He murmurs apologizes over and over again into your shoulder while he squeezes your hand in his.

BARBATOS

Barbatos worries about you when his responsibilities to Diavolo take him far away from you.

Sometimes you accompany him on trips that allow you to explore parts of the realm beyond the bustling metropolis you're used to. He likes seeing your giddy excitement when he can show you something new, something you might not have seen if it wasn’t for him.

Other times, he’s forced to leave you behind. Some of the destinations are simply too unwelcoming for a human with your sensitive disposition. This particular excursion is related to royal matters and lacks the fun sightseeing opportunities he wants to share with you.

After nearly a week, he’s restless with the anticipation of seeing you again. He’s not sure whether to be irritated that he’s been gone from you for so long, or excited that soon he’ll be by your side once more.

Diavolo delights in teasing his friend and insists it’s a bit of both.

Barbatos won't argue with his young master when he begrudgingly agrees.

You’ve had plenty of work to fill your spare time since Barbatos’s departure. It’s exam season once again at RAD and you’re being held to even higher standards than before because of your status as a sorcerer. When you’re not studying for exams, you’ve been helping Lucifer with student council affairs, or accompanying Solomon on human world excursions related to the Sorcerer’s Society.

Barbatos feels the first inklings of concern when you send him messages in the middle of the night, long past your usual bedtime.

“I’m catching up on these study materials Satan gave me then I’ll go to bed, promise!”

You wake up each morning with a greeting from him; Barbatos wishes you a pleasant day and he reminds you to eat something. He doesn’t like your bad habit of skipping breakfast. Since he’s been gone, he suspects that you’ve started skipping or delaying your other meals, too.

“I grabbed a snack in the cafeteria before class, I had a meeting at lunch time.”

“There’s a witches dispute Solomon would like help resolving, I’ll eat dinner when I get back.”

Barbatos is tempted to send Lucifer and Solomon thinly-veiled threats that their impositions on your time shouldn’t affect your well-being to this degree.

When he asks you one evening if they're putting too much pressure on you, you insist that things will go back to normal once exams are finished and he returns with Diavolo. You promise that you're eating and sleeping enough and he doesn't have to worry.

He decides not to involve himself directly unless you ask him to, and of course you don't.

When Lucifer calls him unexpectedly on the second-last night of his trip, he realizes that he should’ve gotten involved after all.

Barbatos is standing quietly at his young master's side while Diavolo mingles with guests at a dinner party. When his D.D.D. starts buzzing, Barbatos is surprised when he sees Lucifer's name flash across the screen. He excuses himself and heads to an empty balcony so he can take the call privately.

Lucifer skips all pleasantries and small talk when he answers. “Before I say anything else, I would like to emphasize that they’re fine—“

Barbatos’s breath hitches and the heart you insist he has, the one that beats for only for you, cracks in his chest. “Tell me what’s happened.”

Lucifer explains that you had some sort of fainting episode - he mentions stress and lack of sleep and something Solomon called low blood sugar, but Barbatos can barely concentrate on what he says over the dull roar in his ears.

Barbatos senses his young master behind him, and he hopes his expression is perfectly neutral when they exchange glances. Lucifer must’ve sent Diavolo a message about your condition as well because he looks at Barbatos worriedly; his young master is fond of you, too.

Before Barbatos can ask more questions about how you’re doing now, and what they’re doing to take care of you, and how Lucifer and Solomon would like to be punished when he returns, Diavolo motions for him to pass over his phone.

“Barbatos will be arriving shortly to evaluate the situation on my behalf,” his young master informs Lucifer before wishing him a goodnight and hanging up the call.

“But my Lord, the meeting with the dignitaries—“

Diavolo shakes his head and smiles at his oldest friend. “The meeting isn’t until tomorrow afternoon. It gives you plenty of time to visit and make sure they’re alright. Stay with them tonight and return in the morning if you’re satisfied their condition has improved.”

Barbatos knows it’s a blatant disregard of his duties to the young Prince to leave him so suddenly because of his personal matters.

He also knows it’s the height of unprofessionalism to leave his master’s side so abruptly.

Barbatos knows he’s a hypocrite, but he barely waits a moment longer before he teleports himself to the House of Lamentation to be with you.

SIMEON

Simeon loves sharing perfect moments of domestic bliss with you.

It doesn’t matter when or where - Purgatory Hall, the Angel’s Halo café, the human world apartment he secretly keeps just for the two of you - he wants nothing more than to nourish your body and soul with simple, cozy gestures that prove his love for you.

His responsibilities to the Celestial Realm, the petty orders from Michael that have him travelling all over the three realms, have kept him busy lately. He misses you desperately and he’s frustrated when he wants to see you but he can’t.

You’ve tried to teach him how to use this D.D.D. for times like this, so you could send each other pictures or make video calls when the longing becomes too unbearable.

(His own technological skills are still a work in progress but he cherishes whatever you send him.)

But one day he asks you how you are, and you mention very casually that you don’t feel well, and he has to remind himself not to panic.

Lucifer would have contacted him right away if it were something serious - right?

Simeon calls Lucifer afterwards to check on your condition (knowing about your habit of downplaying your problems not to worry him), but Lucifer assures him that everything is under control.

That's not good enough. Not for you. Simeon calls in some favours with his fellow angels and manages to secure a couple days’ off from his responsibilities so he can come see you.

Simeon couldn’t be more thrilled when he arrives at the House of Lamentation the next morning. He gets to care for you personally while Lucifer and his brothers are at RAD all day. Any time he spends with you is special, but alone time together is the most precious to him - it's a luxury he greedily indulges in, when he has the chance.

When he arrived, he brewed you a cup of herbal tea before you laid down together for some much-needed snuggling. You insisted he didn't need to go to all this trouble for you, but he winked and insisted that he wanted to spoil you.

Your stomach growls and it seems like a good time to think about making something to eat. When you rise from your bed on shaky legs, Simeon wraps an arm around your waist to support you. He thinks you look a little pale, but you tell him you’re fine. He heads to the kitchen to start making food for both of you while you slip into your ensuite bathroom to shower before lunch is ready.

Simeon is chopping vegetables when he hears the first dull thud. He sets down his knife and frowns, walking closer to the shared wall that separates your room and the kitchen. After a moment, there’s another thud that’s even louder. And then another, the loudest noise yet.

He rushes out of the kitchen and heads to your bedroom. He can hear the quiet hiss of the water running through the door that leads to your private bathroom, but you don’t answer when he calls your name. He tests the doorknob - you left it unlocked, thankfully - and he steps inside. He waves the steam away from his face and he calls your name again. You don’t say anything, but your pained groan is just as worrisome as silence.

When Simeon pulls back the shower curtain, you’re sitting at the bottom of the tub and slumped against the side. The bottles of toiletries you dropped - or knocked over - are scattered around you. He fumbles with the faucet to turn off the water spraying at your back, and he tilts your head up so he can look at you properly. Your eyes are glazed over and unfocused, but your hand - your poor, trembling hand - reaches up and tugs weakly at his sleeve.

“M’dizzy,” you whisper. Your voice wavers and the words slur together.

He rests his forehead against yours. “I’m here, my love,” he murmurs quietly to comfort you - and himself.

Simeon reaches for one of your towels hanging on the wall behind him, and he wraps it around your shoulders. He maneuvers you as gently as he can so he can lift you out of the tub and cradle you against his chest. He tries to dry you off while he rocks you in his hold, humming under his breath to soothe you. He pauses every so often so he can kiss your cheeks, your nose, your forehead.

You’re too tired to be embarrassed by the way he carries you back to your bed, helping you put on warm pajamas and tucking you into the blankets like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

(You are.)

After you rest, Simeon tells you that it was a low grade fever that probably caused your dizziness. The feeling gradually fades and as evening approaches, you don’t feel lightheaded anymore. He’s reluctant to leave your side, and he cares for all of your needs personally: providing you with cool water and warm herbal teas; making healing potions to help with your headache and sore throat; and cooking soft but nourishing foods to keep you full.

When Lucifer and his brothers return from RAD and insist on seeing you, Simeon sends them away from your room with hushed suggestions to leave you alone and be quiet. His words are polite, but the dangerous glint in his eye promises pain for those that might disturb you.

No one can take care of you better than he can.

SOLOMON

Shopping with Solomon in the human world is always a fun adventure. You’re at a mall in your hometown (your home-away-from-the-Devildom) and giggling at Solomon’s baffled expression. He examines a vending machine full of large, colourful cake slices and other desserts. You shake your head when he points to the rainbow-coloured cake slice he offers to buy for you. He takes a picture of the display and sends it to Luke before he reaches for your hand.

Your goal today is to buy a birthday present for Asmodeus. You have a small list of makeup and body care to buy for him, all made with scents or ingredients that are unique to the human world. You probably could’ve used Akuzon to import the items you want to buy - but where’s the fun in that?

Solomon offers to carry your shopping bags for you, and you link your arms together while you stroll lazily through the mall. Every time he spots something in a store window he thinks you'd like - a shirt that compliments your eyes or complexion, or a lovely piece of jewelry - he has the urge to spoil you. He glances at you with half-lidded eyes and tries his best to convince you that yes, you would like your lover to buy that for you as a gift. Your usual response is to roll your eyes at him while he grins.

(He's adding all those items to a mental list of gifts to buy you later.)

He stops outside a large boutique when he spots something in the window he wants to pick up for Asmo. You nod your head towards the bubble tea shop next door and tell him you’re going to grab a drink while he picks up his shopping. He promises to come find you when he’s done and he steps inside while you head towards the line-up nearby.

It can’t be more than a minute or two when Solomon feels you next to him while he’s browsing a rack of colourful blouses, looking for one in Asmo’s size.

“Did you miss me that much?” Solomon glances at you with a teasing smirk, but he frowns when he sees the expression on your face.

You’re not looking at him. Your wide, frightened eyes are staring where you came from, the entranceway that leads back to the mall. Your hand on his shirt clenches into a fist, and you’re trembling.

Solomon drops the bags on his arms and reaches for you. When he pulls you against him, he can feel your shallow, panicky breaths when you pant into his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you imploringly. He cups your cheeks and forces you to look at him. Tears are welling in your eyes and when you blink, they start to trickle down your face. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head and he doesn’t know what to do to comfort you. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze like you’re afraid he’s going to disappear. He can barely make out your gasping whisper: “I need to get out of here.”

He rubs his hand up and down your back soothingly. He walks both of you back towards the change rooms where there’s more privacy, and when he’s sure no one is looking, he disappears both of you back to his home in the human world.

Even in the comfort of his front hallway, you're still shivering and your breathing is quick, panicky and uneven. He encourages you to match his deep breaths, and he reminds you that you’re safe and that he’s here for you. The erratic beat of your heart eventually calms down, and you look up from where you were hiding your face in his chest.

“There’s my darling love,” he whispers when he cups your cheek. Both of you have red, tear-stained eyes now. He brushes his lips against your forehead.

“I’m sorry I ruined our shopping trip,” you whisper hoarsely.

But Solomon shakes his head and hugs you again. “You didn’t ruin anything.” He waits a moment before he asks quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You tense in his arms and shake your head ‘no.’

Solomon doesn’t mention what happened at the mall, and he spends the rest of the night holding you close and taking care of you. When he offers to go back the next day to repurchase the items you left behind, he knows better than to ask if you want to go with him. The very mention of that place causes fear to creep into your eyes, and it nearly breaks his heart.

It's several days later, after you both return to the Devildom, and he notices that you're still incredibly anxious about something. You glance around nervously in public, and sometimes you stare off into space with a slightly haunted look in your eyes.

Solomon’s not sure who or what you saw that day, but for the first time since he met you, he feels utterly powerless.

#obey me dateables #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #gn!reader

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animequeen4 · 5 months

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okay y’all hear me out… alastor, Lucifer, and Adam and their s/o meeting their fandom personas

alastor x reader x cursed cat alastor

Yn: “Al look at what I found! Isn’t he the cutest 😍”

alastor: “what is the world is that? 😃”

is genuinely confused on what and where it came from all he knows is that it hates him and everyone else except yn

Yn once putted a bow tie on him and looked like he loved it by this smile seeming genuinely yet when his bow tie was coming undone he would hiss and scratch at anyone who tried to fix it and only allowed yn to fix it

had a tendency to bring gifts for yn like nice and one time a ENTIRE deer carcass but after seeing she would throw it away he started to bring started bringing stuff like Freshly pulled out of the ground flowers, sometimes jewelry, and one time a cute hat

as for alastor he does not like the thing

he hates how the thing will always try to get in the way when he tries to do anything with yn like when it’s early in the morning and he wants to enjoy the peaceful moment with you he will just show up somehow in the room cuddling you, when he tries to give you a kiss on the cheek the will but bring your attention to him instead, and onetime he tried locking the door to get some quality time alone together and keep him out, THE CAT NEARLY BROKE DOWN THE WHOLE DOOR!!! The only time they got along was when they were protecting yn and when they both showed dislike for Susan

then one day a cat version of yn showed up also out of no where and immediately Cat Alastor stopped beefing with regular alastor because now both have their own yn

although yn was sad cat alastor wasn’t hanging out with her as much anymore she was happy and hopefully she can finally enjoy some peace of mind knowing they were not fighting anymore

lets just say a few months later there would be some kittens and they become permanent residents because cat alastor would bite who every tried to touch the kittens and his yn 😅

Lucifer x reader x cursed cat Lucifer

Out of all three he is the one who is actually loving meeting their fandom persona

“OMG HE IS AS CUTE AS KIKI! 🥹”

Lucifer gets even more excited see he too has a appreciation for ducks

let’s kitty Lucifer sleep with any of his ducks (except the Lilith one which he hides)

Kitty Lucifer loves yn almost as much as regular version of him

Like cat alastor he lives little gifts for yn except they usually come some with ducks mostly rubber ducks

however it is a bit of a hassle sometimes with him having wings where as when it’s time for a bath we will try to fly away but will get in the bath willing it there are some rubber ducks

when a yn cat showed up Lucifer was excited but not as much as his feline counterpart who acted like they were husband and wife and he missed his wife dearly

Kitty Lucifer was latter found being groomed by cat yn who was licking him clean and the too we’re sharing kitten kisses with kitty Lucifer having a completely smitten look 🥰

Adam x reader x squished/tiny Adam

Adam: “THIS LITTLE SHIT STOLE AND ATE ONE OF MY RIBS?!?! We need to get rid of it!”

yn: “oh come how Adam he is like you so he too likes ribs”

tiny Adam will often ask for cuddles and I imagine he is about as the same size as the cats so when cuddling he is pressed against yns boobs so tiny Adam will smirk at Adam making him jealous and flip regular Adam off while yn Isn’t looking

tiny Adam will also sleep on top of or cuddle yn while she sleeps so sometimes he just likes hanging out in her between her boobs

will often try to steal things like food, phones, jewelry to try and make him look cooler, and one time he has been caught stealing yns bra but was stopped easily due to how small he is

Will basically always come between the two of you when you tried to do anything romantic

not sure if he is wearing a mask like Adam or if that is his actual face due to always fighting anyone who tried to check

once Adam realized how he is able to get away with stuff they suddenly become good friends and caused a lot of mischief

I don’t know why but I imagine tiny Adam would also try to sing songs like hell is forever but it ends up sounding a lot cutter due to how high his voice is or he ends up squeaking instead

one day a tiny yn showed up and Adam finally understand why yn loved tiny Adam so much. ITS LIKE HAVING A TINY VERSION OF HER HE CAN TAKE AROUND WITH HIM WHEREVER HE GOES!! ITS SO FREAKING CUTE!! 🥹

tiny Adam then started started liking tiny yn and to regular Adam and yn it was like watching how they fell in love

ps these are not my art please don’t get after me I am just using these for illustrations on what they look like I am not claiming ownership and I hope you enjoyed 😁

#adam x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #cat lucifer #cursed cat alastor #squished adam

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thefandomdirtymind · 1 year

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Shiny offering

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji Series - NSFW The small favor

A/N IMPORTANT: I am the little weirdo who's like crows and though that a pirate with a crow would be really cool. So, I'm really sorry if you're scare of bird, but I hope you will find the story funny because I have a lot of fun with it and my new obsession for this man.

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

If you enjoy my story please let me know.

---

Sanji never had a particular interest in birds. At least not living ones. Once featherless, beheaded and ready to be cooked. He, of course, has a lot of thoughts and recipes about how to prepare them, each idea more delicious than the other.

But, as the Crow expanded his wings and flew above him for the fifth time that day. He started to wonder if the black bird meat would taste more like chicken and then, be better in a rotisserie kind of dish, or would it be surprisingly more delicate, like the duck.

A mystery he would probably never know even if he could. Or if he did, not with this precise bird. Because, even if the blond never had a thought about the feathered animal, he has a lot of interest in you and, as irritating as it is, your crow seems to dislike him as much as Zoro does.

He didn’t attack him directly of course, you would never let this happen.

Yet, if Sanji is too close to you when you're all on the deck or if you share a moment alone with the cook. The damn winged dinosaur never missed a beat stealing his, lite or not, cigarette that was in his hand or between his lips.

The bird has often even tried to take his ring, but, to this day, never succeeded. However his favorite target was his blonde hair. Golden straw that he could pick few at the time between his beck before flying away as quickly as he could.

Everytime, as you tried without success to not laugh. Biting your lips in that charming way he liked so much. You assure him that Deimos didn’t really hate him, he was just a little bit too protective or attracted to the shiny thing on his person. Like humans he needs time to adjust to new people.

“ I understand Madam, but I don’t see stealing Zoro shinny earring neither and that be a show I would love to see “ He once replied, trying to repress the bitterness in his tone, massaging the sore spot on his head where Deimos had took three of his hair.

“Well, Zoro didn’t have hair similar to pretty rays of sunshine, that’s for sure and I honestly don’t know, they seem to already be best buddy that kinda funny “ You said, your gaze fixed on the strange duo that was Zoro and your pet, napping in a hammock between two Tangerine trees.

“ That because they have something in common, they both hate me that’s why”

“ You know, Crows love to collect things who shine and offer them to their partner or their favorite human. Once a crow trusts you, he or his children never forget you, they have a memory that they extend to their children for generations and they will always return to you. It’s amazing”

“ Then Madam it seem that I will be hate for generation “

It has been almost five months now that you were a member of the crew and the relentless animal didn’t stop. Although, Sanji couldn’t forget that conversation that you had about those damn birds offering shining things to the person they affectionate. The way you smiled, the gleam in your eyes as if you were sharing that fun fact like if it was a romantic story. Even if it was an anodin moment, he couldn’t forget how perfect you were. Relax, your arm crossed on the railing of the upper deck in the soft light of the morning.

It wasn’t a secret that the blondie fell for you at the minute that he saw you. He had tried to flirt as much as he could, challenged your taste buds by making you his best dishes and even switched his generic “Madam” for a warmer nickname “ mon coeur”. A sweet name he uses, usually as often as he calls himself the Best Cook of the East blue.

“ Mon coeur, do you want a kind of food in particular for supper ?”

“ Be careful Mon coeur, the tea is hot”

“ You see Mon coeur, one day I will see the All Blue and I will explore it with you ”

But, nothing had seemed to enlighten your comprehension about his intention. Of course, a more direct approach would give him an immediate answer, still, like in his cooking, Sanji liked a more slow and progressive approche.

It was when thinking about his next move that the strange event occurred.

Busy in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for his famous beef stew, the man suddenly heard a metallic noise, like a utensil falling on the floor. As a chef, it wasn't uncommon, but since he was alone in the room and all his instruments were in front of him, it was indeed, really strange. It was only after his gaze had scanned the room that he finally saw it.

Perched on the side of the table, under the open window, the dark bird, a spoon in his beck, was watching the floor where a solitary fork was laying.

“ Oh no sir, this place is my domain you will not ruin it, get out” He exclaimed, not without thinking of how ridiculous he must look, talking at this bird like if he was a rude client of the Baratie.

For answer, Deimos only croak once, jumps between two potatoes just in front of him, turns his onyx head on the side and then, under the blue glare of the men, drops the polished spoon.

The eating tool in itself wasn’t really special, unless the fact that it had been lost two weeks ago, along the fallen fork of course.

“ Oh so now you steal my utensil. My hair and my smoke wasn’t enough ?” Sanji sighs before reaching for the discarded silver instrument.

For answer, the crow slowly approached his head to the metallic object and started to admire his own smaller reflection before taking his fly, exiting the kitchen.

Coming back after less than five minutes later, this time with a shimmering shell and one of Nami small hair clips. Same as the spoon, he gently drops them in front of the blonde man, tilling his head, like he is waiting for something.

Like said before, Sanji never had a soft spot for birds, but he had a fond memory of that conversation with you about the way they express their affection. So, little by little, as he watched one by one the glittery, polish, shimmery stuff your crow just bought him, two realizations struck him. First, the damn feathers dinosaur has finally taken a liking for him and second he finally knew how to show you how dear you are in his eyes.

“ Well, I almost regret now that I imagine you many times in my oven. I admit that you don't seem that bad alive now…thank you” Sanji smiled, putting the stew on the stove, letting it cook and before starting collecting the item for his new plan.

It was only a long time after dinner that he could put his said plan in action. With a little help from his now winged friend.

As the Going Merry was lazily crossing the water, Sanji was still again in the kitchen, preparing diverse elements. To citrus marinade for supper the next day, to dry leaf for future recipes.

Nevertheless, he was ready when the flap of the wing followed by footsteps could be heard near his area.

Deimos was the first to enter the kitchen, taking his now usual place in the left corner of the kitchen island, your bracelet still on his beck. Close by a few steps, you enter at his pursuit, stopping only when you seen the strange show that was the gorgeous chef ,slowly busy pressing a lemon and your large pet, sharing the same space without apparent bickering.

“ Hi Sanji, sorry to barge in there like that. Deimos feels apparently playful today, he stole my bracelet. But look at you both, you finally bound as I can see” You joyfully said, taking a seat in front of the kitchen island.

“ Hello Mon coeur, well as you can see we came to an arrangement if I can call it that. " Sanji replied, pulling an almond from his pocket and giving it to the bird as he rescued your bracelet “ But I’m grateful that he bring you here now, I also had something for you, a special dessert”

Turning his back from you for a minute, missing the long glance you give to his perfect ass in his tailored pants, you smile. You weren't stupid, in fact, you were particularly smart. Even if you didn’t understand why Usopp had taken a habit of joking about the fact that you seem blind to love.

You had noticed the blonde chef the first day on this boat and since then, had developpe what Nami had called a “crush” on him. What’s not love about him ? You like the way he calls you Mon coeur making yours fluster, the way his smile reaches his eyes every time he talks about food and of course the fact that he was always so kind with you. But never you would push those thoughts on him, no, it seems that all his love was for food and as long as you live you will respect that.

The first thing you saw after the blondie had put the bowl in front of you was the beauty of the presentation. Served in a plain white bowl, a delicate pale lilac ice cream was piled, decorated with colorful berries that automatically make your mouth water.

However it wasn’t the berries who’s most caught your eyes. Coating there the side of a raspberry, there in a few pieces the side of the cold cream, there floating lazily like if it were on a river, small gold flakes was highlighting the sweet, giving it the allure of a masterpiece.

“ Homemade lavender ice cream with berries assorted with flakes of edible gold “ Sanji proudly present, your favorite smile on his lips. “ I had the idea when we were talking about crows and their habit of giving their partner or…favorite person…shiny things” He lied. Never would he admit to you that your bird, trying to fancy him, gave him the idea. Never on his chef corpse.

“ Sanji, that’s almost too beautiful to eat. The colors, the sweet smell , the…glittery gold” You admiratively said, your joy suddenly catching up with the realization of what he had just said.

You were his favorite person.

Lifting at the same time your gaze and the spoon, you take a small amount of the ice cream and taste his declaration of love.

Just like him it was amazing. Sweet, refreshing and addictive.

“ So...is that to your liking ? “ He inquired after a small moment, unsure if you taken your time to enjoy the dessert or trying to find a delicate way to put him down.

“ It’s the best thing I ever tasted, here take a bite “ You offer, lifting the silverware at the level of his mouth.

Taking your offering, your gaze lock on each other, you both couldn’t repress your smile as he let slip the head of the spoon out of his mouth.

“ Definitely one of my be…” He couldn’t finish.

His tie caught on your fist, his torso inclined and supported by his strong arms above the kitchen island. Your cold lips had suddenly crashed against his, taking him off guard and at the same time his breath away.

Sanji, still ,quickly catch up. Adjusting his position to support the back of your head with one of his hands. He slightly brushes his tongues against your sugary lips, savoring them like a peculiar delicacy. But, as your tongue met, exploring and dancing against each other in a french ritual. He became more and more greedy of your lips, throwing away his usual self control at the first hearing of your panting breath.

Still trapped in the warm embrace of his lips, enjoying the contrast of his warm tongue against your ice cream cold one, you suddenly heard a groan pronounced by none of you.

“ Great, now the waiter will stop looking like a love sick puppy. But did you really have to expose us to that ?”

Breaking the kiss, you gave a glance at the door where Zoro, his arm crossed on his chest, was rolling his eyes, clearly already done with both of you.

Biting your lips of embarrassment you still couldn’t prevented, neither Sanji at it seem, to smile.

“ Nevermind. Come on black chicken “ He calls your bird, who, now used to it ,goes perch himself on one of his shoulders. Before quitting the doorframe to disappear into the ship “ I have to clean my blade and I know they are not clean enough until you watch your reflection in it. “

Laughing at the incongruous friendship of the Swordsman and your pet. You returned your attention to Sanji, another tea spoon of ice cream in his hand.

“I’m sorry” You apologize, still laughing.

“ No need to be embarrassed Mon coeur “ He smile, regaining as it seem, his composure

“ No, I mean, now I don’t know what I prefer between the dessert or your kisses “

Taken aback, Sanji slowly smiles, deposing a small kiss on your lips.

“ Then why not enjoy them both together…I will gladly supply it every time you ask for it”

Smiling you then proceeded to enjoy the delicious cold dessert and the body warm contrast for the rest of the day and more.

Bonus :

Not that Sanji was ashamed to tell you, no. But, even after a year after the event of the offering silverware et other shiny knick-knacks.

He still had, hide behind a pile of pots, the many items brought to him, along the years, by Deimos. Because, even after all this, he was still the reason why you were finally in his arms at night and yes, he had to admit it, he had kind of come to like it, that damn bird.

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