#nothing is strong enough to say anything. but the problem is it’s like this in high school and i go to college and reinvent myself

[aperrywilliams]

It Was Horrible Until It Wasn't (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader comes up to her apartment after Spencer walks her home from the diner, where they spend the last couple of hours. She is still processing the night and wonders if they will meet again. Another fortuitous event makes that happen. In which terms they will part ways again?

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Mention of guns (tests to carry a gun). Mention to Reader's ex. Some strong words? IDK what else. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: I got very excited after your reactions and comments to "If Anything, I Find it Educative." So this is kind of part two, from Reader's perspective. I'm not convinced about a series yet, even if I have some ideas. What would you like to see if it happens?

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Reader's POV

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As I open the door, a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered on the floor greets me. That reminds me that I haven't unpacked all my things yet.

I've only been living here for two weeks, and I'm still getting used to the idea that this is my new home. 

It doesn't feel like it yet. 

But the boxes will be a problem for tomorrow. Now, I only want to take off these high heels and this fancy dress and call it a night - a pretty eventful night.

Not only did I have to confront my ex with his new girlfriend, but I also had to pretend I was okay with it. But how did I expect to do that? Did I genuinely think two months would be enough to be outside again to prove I got myself up? 

How naive of me.

I make a beeline to my bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the apartment.

Again, it's tomorrow's problem.

Retreating my phone from my purse, I plug it to charge over my bedside table as I strip from my clothes and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine.

The entire time, my mind doesn't stop wandering. At some point, it settles on the girl I helped from choking. It was a total coincidence for me to be there. I only approached the bar for another drink when I heard that man rambling. I don't know why my ear perked up, but it did. When I look to find the voice's source, my eyes land on the man and the girl by his side.

He was talking as if the world would end if he didn't, and the girl only eyed him from head to toe, clearly not giving a damn what he was saying. I kept subtly listening to them while sipping my drink. The guy's voice had something enchanting. I would have heard him talk for hours if it were from me. It was a bad thing his interlocutor wasn't so receptive, and when she occasionally said something, it was a flirting remark that only made him uncomfortable. 

What a shame.

When I noticed her fighting to breathe, swatting her hands in desperation, and the poor guy froze on the spot, I knew I needed to do something.

I didn't think much of it and wrapped my arms around her torso to help her. It worked. The oyster she choked with flew into the air, and she could breathe again.

But the next thing I knew, her palm connected to the man's cheek.

The poor guy seemed so confused, and the people talking around didn't help either. What a shitty situation. And as the good citizen I am, I tried to do something about it, only to get lashed out by the same woman I just saved from choking.

Fuck it. 

Seeing the people's attention returned to them, I walked away. That wasn't my fight in the first place.

Returning from the bathroom, I hear my phone ding. It's a text from my friend Andie.

Andie: How did the gala turn out? Did you see him? He was with her, right?

Andie had insisted on me not going to the gala, although I repeated to her several times that it was okay, that nothing would happen, and that I couldn't hide forever.

Me: You were right. I wasn't ready.

It's a defeat I must recognize. I wasn't prepared to see them.

Andie: My girl, I'm so sorry. It must have been awful for you.

It was, but it doesn't mean the night was a disaster.

Me: It was horrible until it wasn't. I can tell you more tomorrow. Now, I only want to go to bed.

Andie: You have me a bit confused here, but okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight; I love you.

I return my phone to the charger and slip under the covers.

It was horrible until it wasn't.

I keep thinking about that. And a smile tugs the corner of my lips. Since Spencer - the guy who got slapped by the oyster-choked girl - approached me at the terrace, the night wasn't that awful anymore.

Who would have thought I would end my night in a diner, dressed to the nines and spouting details of my messy life to a stranger?

-

Monday morning comes faster than I wanted. 

I spent my Sunday mostly unpacking boxes and tidying my apartment, and now, with a coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my office on the third floor of the FBI building in Quantico.

Some colleagues greet me as I pass by. I return them with a polite smile. I saw a couple of them at the gala on Saturday. I only hope they didn't notice the wreck I was that night.

On my desk, a pile of hundreds of manila folders are waiting for me.

This Monday will be a blast.

Dutifully, I reach for the first folder to start my work, as my ear perks up to two colleagues' conversation about the gala.

"Did you see them? Those hot chicks from Counterterrorism?" a male colleague says to another.

"Yeah. I heard one of them was hitting on Reid from the BAU. What a waste!" The other adds.

"And the lucky bastard wasn't able to take her home. His nerdy charm didn't even help him with that."

The mention of the BAU brings Spencer to my mind again. And I realize I don't even know his last name. 

I don't think I need to know, but I can't stop my fingers from typing 'Spencer FBI BAU' on my computer.

My findings make the conversation between my colleagues intriguing. They were precisely talking about Spencer, Spencer Reid, and the girl with him at the gala. Clearly, the incident did not go unnoticed.

I don't like the tone they refer to him, either. I do not know the guy well, but I'm sure he's way better than any of the men at the venue that night.

Are you hearing yourself (Y/N)? That kind of blind trust put you in this situation with your ex in the first place.

I shouldn't grant credibility so fast, but honestly? Spencer seems to be everything but a threat. The things he said, the way he spoke. Anyway, I should stop thinking about that if I want to finish some work. Yeah, that's what I need to do.

Drowning out the noise, I return to the opened folder and continue working.

Some would ask how a task as monotonous as the one I'm doing now could be appealing to someone. The appeal for me comes from how everything fits in the right places and serves a purpose. That's enough for me, even if some people don't understand it.

My ex didn't. And as him, many others.

I'm still fighting to ease the effects their judgments had on me.

Around lunchtime, stopping the papers review, I pick up my phone to check my messages. Yesterday, I promised Andie I would have lunch with her today, so I'm checking for her confirmation and a place to meet.

Just in time, a text comes. She is free right now and suggests a restaurant just outside the building.

"Hey, girl! I'm glad you made it," she greets me as I spot her on one of the tables.

"Of course. I promised I would."

Lunchtime is only one hour, so we order quickly and go straight to the matter.

"I can't believe the son of the bitch decided to go and show off his new conquest," Andie huffs.

"Not that new, considering she has been sleeping with him in what used to be my bed at least a month before I discovered it," I correct with an annoyed look.

It's good to say these things without crying my eyes out anymore.

I tell Andie more details about how it went to share a space packed with mutuals around us and try to stay composed.

"But at some point, I just couldn't. So I retracted to the bar. I only wanted to grab a drink and be alone."

Andie nods in understanding.

"I don't blame you. So you were at the bar when you crossed to the girl to whom you did Heimlich?"

Yesterday, by phone, I told Andie the main facts regarding that, and after laughing for a solid five minutes about the whole ordeal, she made me promise to reveal more details in our lunch meeting.

That's why I'm describing what happened piece by piece.

"She slapped the guy? And she yelled at you? What a bitch! But I don't understand why he apologized on her behalf."

"Honestly? I didn't understand it, but it made sense after talking with him. The guy felt responsible, even if it wasn't related to him. It was the fact that someone had to do the right thing," I explain, with my eyes fixed on my water glass, recalling Spencer's words from that night. 

I can't help but feel some fondness for his genuine worry. Andie raises an eyebrow and hums.

"The guy made a good impression on you, I see."

Andie's tone is teasing, and I know exactly where she is heading.

"Come on, don't start with that," I warn her. I'm not thoroughly annoyed, but I'm not in the mood for teasing. Andie scoffs.

"I'm just saying it's good to know there are men out there that give hopes up. That's all!"

"Sure," I mumble, not very convinced by her explanation.

The rest of our lunch follows a similar tone. When I finish telling Andie about Spencer walking me home, I know she is biting her tongue to say something to taunt me, but she holds back and opts for a question.

"Do you think you'll see him again?"

I ponder my answer. I don't know, although I remember Spencer asking, 'See you around?'

That doesn't mean we agreed to see each other again, even if I said, 'Sure, why not?' 

Did Spencer mean that? Did he want to see me again?

"I don't know. Maybe. We both work in this building, so there are chances, I guess," I shrug. Andie narrows her eyes.

"But do you want to?"

That's a question I don't know how to answer, so I take some seconds to think about it.

"Let's say I'm not opposed to the idea."

A reply that could be an understatement. But not I'm telling Andie that.

She doesn't press on the matter, though. And I'm grateful she doesn't.

Now it's time to go back to work. We walk out of the restaurant to our building and separate ways at the elevator. Andie continues to the eighth floor when I hop off on the third.

Returning to my desk, I continue checking the folders piled on my desk, and my mind only focuses on that, knowing if I don't, there is no chance of getting this stack finished.

----

A good thing about the week progressing is nobody talking anymore about the damn gala. It's been a nightmare since Monday when everyone had to mention something about it. That included comments about me facing my ex there. 

Of course, it was public knowledge I was dating an agent of the Criminal Investigative Division. Also, it became public knowledge he cheated on me with his current girlfriend from Counterterrorism.

But finally, it is Thursday, and everything seems to have returned to normal, so much so that the amount of work has increased exponentially. That's why I'm still at the office at seven pm.

I only assume it's time to go home when my boss pokes out of his office and calls for Andrew, one of our coworkers who distributes files and memos to the other departments.

I turn around, and it's only me at this hour. My boss notices the vacant office and is now talking to me.

"I guess I have to ask you to do this. Can you go to the sixth and drop this to Aaron Hotchner's office? I would have waited until tomorrow for Andrew, but this must be at his desk today."

I don't think I have a choice, so I pick the folder, promising to drop it before going home.

With my coat and purse, I grab the folder and stroll to the elevator.

I have been working here for four years and know every financial detail of each Quantico department, but I still need to recognize all department locations in this facility. So, floors are just floors, except the eight where Andie works.

Arriving at my destination, I walk into a bullpen, where I can see a lot of desks and offices. And just like my floor, it is almost empty. Anyway, I see one of the offices with lights on. My instinct tells me that's the place I'm looking for, and the plaque at the door confirms my suspicions: SSA Aaron Hotchner.

"Come in," a voice comes from the office when I knock.

Peeking inside, a stern-looking man is glancing in my direction. "Can I help you?" he asks with a slight frown.

"Yes, sir. I'm with the Finance Division, and my boss asked me to bring this to you," I explain as I reach out to hand him the folder. When he grabs it, realization washes over the man.

"Of course. Thank you very much-" Agent Hotchner trails off.

"(Y/L/N)," I supply, knowing he wants my last name.

"Thank you very much, Agent (Y/L/N)."

Weird. 

Everyone in the finance and administrative department refers to each other only by last name. We use the 'agent' thing mainly with those who do the fieldwork, and we are used to that.

"You're welcome, Agent Hotchner," I smile politely, ready to leave the man's office. He nods approvingly.

"Hotch, sorry for interrupting you, but I'm ready with my report. I thought you wanted it-"

A man talks, entering abruptly at the office. He stops in his tracks when he sees Agent Hotchner isn't alone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with someone. I can come back later," he apologizes.

Wait. I know that voice. 

I turn, and I see Spencer standing there. His eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. He doesn't say anything but doesn't tear his eyes from mine.

I don't know how many seconds pass, but it's enough for Agent Hotchner to intervene.

"Reid?" he calls Spencer's attention.

"Uh?"

"The report. It's okay; you can give it to me," he tells Spencer, not without subtly bouncing his gaze between us.

"Oh. Okay." Spencer approaches Hotchner's desk, but he still directs glances at me. I want to say hi to him properly, but it doesn't feel okay knowing the man in front of us is undoubtedly his boss. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. So, I take that as my cue to leave.

"If you excuse me," I tell Agent Hotchner, signaling my departure. Spencer looks at me, and I give him a subtle smile.

"Of course. Thank you again, Agent (Y/L/N)."

"To you, sir. Have a good evening."

I walk down the stairs to the open bullpen and toward the elevator.

Before I can push the go-down button, a voice calls my name. It's Spencer's.

"(Y/N), wait!"

I turn and see him trotting towards me.

"Hi!" he says once we are face to face.

Now I feel bad. Spencer comes here to say hi, and I didn't greet him properly just two minutes ago. 

"Spencer, hi. I'm sorry, I should have said something there, but I didn't know if you wanted him to know- I mean, I supposed he was your boss, and I-"

What's wrong with me? 

Why can't I explain myself without stumbling with my words?

"No. No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I should have told you something, too. But I didn't expect to see you here."

"Me neither. My boss sent me here instead of one of my coworkers, who left early. I didn't know this was the BAU floor. What a coincidence, uh?" I play cool, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Spencer nods in agreement.

"Totally. It's good to see you, though. I hoped we could cross paths again."

Isn't it weird that his words have produced a funny tingle in my stomach right now?

"Is that so?" I half-breath, noticing his cheeks turn a shade of pink.

"Yes. I mean, I truly enjoyed talking to you that night," he sheepishly admits.

I more than enjoyed it, Spencer.

"Yeah, me too."

Silence sets between us. And it's time to make a decision. I could say I go home and leave him with a lukewarm 'See you around,' or say I'm leaving, but before doing so, give Spencer my number so we can talk soon. Or...

"Are you busy right now? I'm heading home now, but if you can and want, we can go for a coffee."

Wow (Y/N). Very smooth. I like you smooth.

Spencer's eyes widened, and I wondered for a second if my offer was too straightforward.

"If you have plans, it's okay. We don't have to," I relent.

"Oh, no. I don't. And I would love to go for a coffee with you," Spencer hastens to say. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Yeah?"

"Sure! If you wait for me just a second, I'll pick my things from my desk, and we can go."

----

This time, it's my turn to pick the place.

It's a small coffee shop in the middle of Virginia, just mid-way between Quantico and my apartment.

As we get on the train, I ask Spencer about Agent Hotchner.

"Hotch? Well, he has been at the unit for twelve years now. Gideon, a former agent, told me once he didn't expect Hotch to last long in the BAU. But he proved him wrong. Indeed, Gideon left, and Hotch stayed. Honestly, I can't picture the BAU with another unit chief."

There is a fondness when Spencer talks about Hotchner. I can tell he sees him more than as a superior.

"What about yours?"

Now is my turn to talk about my boss.

"Agent Williams? He is a bureaucrat from head to toe. He had just transferred from another administrative department when I joined the financial division four years ago. At that time, he had ten years working with the FBI. The guy is a genius but lacks social skills. I'm not judging him; I'm a bit like him. But in his position, he needs to make politics, which involves talking and convincing people."

The conversation with Spencer flows so well and easily that I'm as impressed as I was the night of the gala. 

When we reach the coffee shop, we sit facing each other. After ordering our coffee, we start talking about our coworkers.

"So Garcia is our technical analyst. I have to say she is like the team's heart. Besides her outstanding skills, her compassion and care are something out of this world," Spencer admits, and again, I feel the fondness in his voice.

"She seems very special," I add. Spencer nods.

"Very. I don't know what it's like to have a sister, but if I had one, I would have liked someone like her.

So he doesn't have a sister. Does he have brothers, though? We have yet to talk about our families, so this is the first piece of information I get about it.

"What about the guy who came to check what was happening with your girl at the gala?" I ask, and Spencer scoff.

"First of all, Ashley isn't my girl. I think she made it pretty clear that night. And secondly, the guy in question is Morgan, the culprit of why I was with Ashley in the first place."

That's interesting. I want to know more about that.

"How is that?" I ask, sipping my coffee.

Spencer tells me how Morgan insisted they talk to the girls - Ashley and her friends - and how he reluctantly followed him.

I'm about to make a not-so-kind remark when Spencer gets ahead of me.

"I know it may seem like he is a thoughtless person, but he truly means well. I can't entirely agree with his tactics most of the time, but he's right when he tells me I should enjoy more and work less."

"It's safe to say you weren't 'enjoying' that much there," I quip, air-quoting the word 'enjoying.' Spencer chuckles.

"Yeah. Honestly? I have more fun when Morgan kicks doors down in our field chases than when he tries to play wingman for me."

What? Kick doors down?

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the FBI had to spend thousands of dollars in repairs for third parties last year because of him?"

I know I'm being dramatic. It's impossible that just one agent destroyed that amount of dollars by kicking doors. But still.

Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No! I mean, yes. He does that, but thousands of dollars? Last time I checked, doors are not that expensive."

I roll my eyes. That's not the point.

"Okay. I know it's not only Agent Morgan's doing, but did you know the buro's budget had increased by 4% last year due to refunds for field operations? And did you know 70% of that increase refers to agents shattering private property?"

Now, I sound like my boss. Great. I became what I swore to destroy.

Spencer looks at me with amusement. I narrow my eyes to him. "What?"

He clears his throat. "Oh. No, nothing. It's just - well, it's fascinating to hear you talking about - uh - numbers."

I can't help but snort. "Come on, how fascinating that can be?"

Spencer grins. "If anything, I find it educative," he parrots my words from that night, and we fall into a fit of laughs.

"Yeah?" I muse after the laughter subsides. Spencer nods, still a smile gracing his face.

Gosh, that smile.

"Well, I can talk about numbers all day. But I'm sure you don't want me to 'fascinate' you that much."

Spencer hums, faking be pondering his options.

"Don't tempt me. I like to know and talk about everything. But before returning to numbers, I want to ask about your coworkers. I already talked much about mine."

Even if there is not much to say, indulging him with an answer is only fair.

"What can I say? In my area, there are three: Anthony, Leah, and me. We were four then, but Andie was promoted to the eighth floor a year ago. Anthony is a good guy, a little inexperienced, but very eager to learn. We don't have a very close relationship, but he's my protegee at work. Leah is very clever and has enough experience, but sometimes she is not present, making things a little tense between us. Andie is rightfully my friend. We got to the bureau simultaneously, and although she doesn't work with us anymore, we are very close."

Spencer is looking at me with full attention. It's odd to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I don't like to talk about my bonds in general. It makes me feel vulnerable. But for a reason that I still don't get, with Spencer, it feels right.

It's night already, and we are in our third coffee.

"Do you usually drink this amount of coffee daily at this hour? I try to cut off my dosis after lunch, but sometimes I just can't," I point as I stir the spoon on my coffee. Spencer hums.

"I drink a lot of it at any time of the day, every day. It's worse when we are on cases because that shitty coffee at the precincts should not even be called coffee," he scoffs, pouring half of the sugar pot into his cup.

I have already noticed the amount of sugar Spencer has used in his two previous coffees; this third is not the exception.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," I say as my eyes dart to his sweet liquid. He follows my line of sight and chuckles.

"I love coffee, but I don't like its bitterness. I know it doesn't make sense, but for me it does."

"Fair enough."

After that, our conversation stumbles to lousy sleep habits.

"Ray hated it. Even once, he told me I purposely got up in the middle of the night to annoy him."

Spencer's brow furrows.

"Ray is your ex?"

Shit. I don't realize I'm talking about him.

Why do I have to mention him? I hate how ingrained he is still in my life.

"Yeah, Raymond. No wonder why things didn't work out between us," I try to joke because I don't want to cry about it anymore.

"An example of a man," Spencer follows my lead, and I'm grateful he doesn't look at me like people usually do when I talk about it. There is no pity. There is no that look saying, 'Oh, poor girl who got cheated on.' It's like a whole understanding. It doesn't make me feel like a failure. And that's a change—a good one.

I chuckle. "Hell, he is."

It's getting late, and it's time to part ways, even if I don't want it. Hours pass quickly with such good company.

"We should get going. It's late," I point as I glance at my phone. Spencer nods in acknowledgment, signaling the waitress to get the check. He is about to fish his wallet when I stop him.

"No. Don't do that. I invited you."

Spencer scoffs, opening his wallet nonetheless. 

"No way. You invited me the other night. You can do it next time."

Next time, uh? I want to say something teasing, but the waitress returns with our check.

We are outside the coffee shop now. I adjust my coat as Spencer does the same with his suit jacket. The night is chilly, and the contrast with the warmth of the coffee shop is evident.

"Can I walk you home?" He offers. I have my doubts about that. It's not that I don't like the idea; I just don't want to use more of his time.

"You don't have to. Really," I shake my head.

"Please? You already said it. It's pretty late," he insists, looking at me with dog puppy eyes. 

Why is he doing that? He is testing my resolve.

"You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm a certificated FBI agent. I can't carry a gun, but sure I could manage," I argue in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckles.

"I know you are. And I'm sure you could. Even though, why no to prolong our evening for fifteen minutes long?" I raise an eyebrow.

"So you really like my company, uh?" 

I'm sure I see a blush creeping his cheeks, and it's endearing.

"I like your company. I thought I made it pretty clear the other night?" he probes. And I don't know how to respond to that.

The truth is quite curious. Teasing Spencer seems so natural sometimes, but now I don't know what to say.

I decide not to say anything and nod, motioning for us to start walking.

Spencer follows me, and we walk in silence for the first block. Then, I feel the need to continue our conversation. I want these fifteen minutes to be as good as the previous two hours.

"Did you know that I used to carry a gun? Although it took me three failed tests to do so."

Spencer looks at me, surprised. I take that as my cue to tell that story.

Once I tell him how I finally managed to pass my shooting test, he starts telling me how he also failed his test a couple of times.

"So you saved your boss life shooting an unsub?" Spencer nods.

"But I really aimed to his leg, not his head," he adds, and we burst into a fit of laughter.

Without realizing it, we are already in front of my building. The laughter subsides when we notice where we are.

I clear my throat. "Well. Uh-thank you. Again," I say, referring to him walking me home.

"No need," Spencer says. "I had a good time today," he adds, smiling. 

I can't help but feel my cheeks burn. Spencer casts his eyes to the ground.

"Me too," I admit, biting my bottom lip. "I - uh."

Why am I so nervous right now? Just say what you want to say!

"I - uh. I'd really like to do this again. I mean, you know, maybe next time could be something planned?"

Spencer's eyes flick to mine. I would say he didn't expect me to say that.

"I would love that," he says, keeping eye contact. And for a moment, I think the breath leaves my lungs. Those eyes are something I didn't see in my life before. I can't describe it, but it's enough to make me speechless.

"I guess it's here when I ask for your number?" Spencer's voice is the one that brings me out of the trance.

I chuckle, mid-embarrassed by my absorption moment. I gesture for him to give me the phone. Spencer does it, and I advert his piercing gaze to focus on typing my number. Once done, I return the device with a playful smile. Jeez, I feel like a damn teenager.

A snort leaves Spencer's lips when he sees the name I used for my contact.

"Really?" He asks. I nod, chuckling.

"It's safe to say you won't forget who I am," I confirm.

"Bet I won't."

"Good. Now I'm going to come up," I gesture to the building. "Good night, Spencer."

"Good night, (Y/N)."

I turn to enter the building, and although I can't see him, I feel him standing there in the cold night until I disappear into the elevator.

Once I cross the threshold of my apartment, a ding comes from my phone. Frowning, I pick it up.

Unknown number: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. SR.

I bit my lower lip. And after typing a reply, I start my night routine before bed.

Oh, boy. What are you getting into (Y/N)? 

Whatever it is, it feels so good.

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A/N 2: As always, I'm excited to know your thoughts about this one!

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #aperrywilliams #amanda perry williams

[scar-lie]

The remaining of you [Natasha]

Summary : Dealing the aftermath of the scene Natasha dreaded to come sooner in her life

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem ! Reader, Mom ! Natasha x Daughter! Romanoff

Warning : shouting, crying, mention of death, scared little Romanoff, torture, nightmare, I thinks that's

Word count : 2,514

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

“What is your problem, Nat?! You can't just drop her off just like that, like she's nothing.” Wanda screamed at the red head, whose head was low, taking a deep breath and placing her hands on the table in the kitchen.

 "Wanda, please, not now,” Nat whispered, swallowing the lump on her throat. But Wanda’s not having any of her shits anymore; she's tired of seeing how the little redhead heart broke every time Nat refused to do anything with her.

"No, Natasha, I’m not gonna let you throw her like garbage anymore; enough was enough; that girl is trying to at least have your attention, even for a second, but you always rejected her; you don't even spare her even a glance, and it broke her heart.” Saying Wanda was furious was an understatement. She took the girl under her wings a week when Natasha and Yelena brought her in, seeing how the baby was craving some affection and skin-to-skin contact.

"Wanda, please, it's not that easy.” Natasha was thankful that most of the Avengers are on mission and some run their own errands, leaving her, Wanda, and the 5-year-old girl in the compound.

“What Natasha? It is not easy for you to show a little affection to your daughter. You have 3 years, Natasha, 3 years to pull yourself together, 3 years that she's under my wings to protect, to love, admire, care for, and to be a mother to her. She's just a little girl, Natasha, and she's craving her mother's attention. Why can't you give her that? ”Natasha saw the hurt in her eyes, and she knows that it's not only Wanda's emotion she's showing but also the little girl too.

“I want to, Wanda, ok, I really do, but I can't, ok, I just can't,” Natasha shouted, looking up at Wanda with tears in her eyes.

“I want to cuddle her, kiss her, bond with her, spoil her, sing to her, or tell her story. I want to be Wanda. I really want to be a mother to her, but I just can't…….I-I” Natasha shook her head, wiping her tears that were now falling. She knew how her daughter was hurting; she heard every cry; she knew she always knew.

“Then do it; love her; show her that she matters to you because she will not love you or be there bothering you for your attention forever. Don't take her for granted, Natasha; you have a precious girl who loves you more than life itself; don't waste it.” Wanda stands tall in her spot, getting strong for the kid and not cave in and comforting her; she has to do it for the sake of the little girl who's sleeping upstairs.

“Don't let your insecurities get the best of you again; don't push her away like you did with Y/N; if you really love Y/N, you will take care of that little girl you two made; don't let history repeat itself.” Wanda quickly got cut off by Natasha's sudden outburst, with tears streaming down her face.

“You wanna know the reason why? Huh? That's the reason why I can't look at her; I can't be with her because every time I look at her face, all I can see and think about is Y/N, how she lay in that fucking bed unresponsive, how I didn't protect them, that I let her alone with an open window for my enemies to attack freely, and I blame myself for what happened, because if I could just be brave and don't let these thoughts get the best of me, I should have been there to protect them, or I should be the one laying in my own fucking blood, not her.” Natasha then punched the cabinet beside her, wanting to let the emotions out.

“I can't, Wanda, ok, because that day keeps flashing in my mind when I look at her eyes. She reminded me of how stupid, reckless, and selfish I am. Because of me, her mother got killed, and she got kidnapped right after she was born.” Wanda frowned, looking at Natasha with sympathy, so Natasha shook her head, not wanting her pity.

"Don't, Wanda, please don't look at me like that; I don't need your pity, Wanda.” They quickly got interrupted with the cute little voice in the entrance of the kitchen, making both of them look up in the direction.

“Auntie Wanda? ”The little girl whispered, clutching her big husky dog stuff toy that's a little big and taller than her, looking at her auntie with doe teary eyes, pout lips, and her cheeks and tip of her nose are red until she saw the redhead in the room, making her feel small and want to hide, so she scooted to the side, trying to hide in the small cabinet, only the head peeking out to look at her auntie Wanda.

"Oh, sweetheart, what happened? Why are you hiding there? ”Wanda softly talked, walking to the scared little girl, and sat on her heels to be on the same level as the little girl. She quickly wrapped her arm around her auntie, sniffling, and still had a strong grip on her stuff toy, so Wanda took her in her arm, one hand rubbing her back while she cried and one arm under her bump, and swayed her back and forth to comfort the little girl.

“I-I had a bad dream,” the little girl mumbled, soaking her aunt’s shirt.

“What dream is it? Can you tell Auntie Wanda what a bad dream it is? ”She nodded, looking at her auntie and wiping her tears, then resting her head on her auntie's shoulder while playing with the neckline of Wanda's shirt.

“I-I saw blood and bad guys,” Wanda giving her a reassuring smile to continue.

“And……and they took and I saw this fat old guy; he-he said I-I would stay with him from now on, and-and I saw dead body besides him,” the littleredhead cried again, seeing the woman lifeless, not knowing it's her mother she saw.

“Is it the same old guy and the same woman you saw?”Wanda asked softly, looking at Natasha, who has a defeated look on her face and a mixed emotion. She truly can't read Natasha at the moment.

“Yes, the beautiful woman with Y/H/L Y/H/C and arrow necklace, then the guy has glasses and white hair.” This makes Natasha clench her jaw and fist, knowing who the person her daughter is talking about, and she's afraid that the scene is that night her world will stop.

"Shhh, it's ok, sweetheart. You're here with me. You're safe now. He's not going to take you. It's ok.” Wanda gives Natasha a small smile, then goes up to their room floor to comfort the little girl and put her to sleep, leaving Natasha alone in the kitchen with her thoughts.

Natasha is jealous of Wanda. Yes, she's jealous of how Wanda can naturally take care of her daughter, how she loves Wanda, and how they both bond and do everything together. She's  pretty jealous because she wanted a daughter; that's her one dream—a daughter with you.

So Natasha goes to the gym again to get all of her frustration out of her body and mind, to block everything that's bothering her, and maybe, just maybe, it will block the nightmare she has had since your death.

"No, no, please, don't hurt her. You got me, ok, hurt me instead. Just please don't hurt them,” Natasha begs the faceless woman in charge of guarding her. She's strapped down to the chair in the corner of your room where you're peacefully sleeping with your 8-month pregnant belly. You look peaceful and gorgeous.

But all the begging is useless because four women enter the room, and Dreykov is mockingly smiling at her. She hates it so much, but she didn't think of that; her mind and eyes are in your sleeping body.

When the four women approach you and the three women pin you down, it makes you awake in panic. They made sure you didn't move much, and the other one proceeded to slit open your stomach, making two big cuts, one horizontal and one vertical.

This makes you scream in pain, with tears running down your face because of the unbearable pain you are experiencing. You can feel her hands moving through your insides, slicing you open. You tried to break free to save you and your daughter from them, but you are no match for them; they are strong and can kill you in a second.

“NOOOOO!!!! PLEASE STOP IT! Please, please, I’ll do anything. Stop hurting her, stop hurting them.” Natasha screams, trying to break free from the restraints to try and save you both, but all she can do is watch you suffer from the hands of Dreykov, where she also watches how he takes her right after they cut the umbilical cord.

She watched how they just left you laying in your own bed, bleeding and unable to move or breathe. She watched how life drained out of your eyes, how the color of your skin turned pale, but how you looked at her in the eye while you were dying. 

“Y/N? No please, no don't leave us please, no no noo please, no don't take my baby away no please.” Natasha keeps screaming, crying, and begging, but it's all no use; your dead in front of her, eyes still open, and your daughter is taken away. She's left there in the chair, feeling every pain.

“Wake up, wake up, Ms. Romanoff,” the little red head shouted, shaking Natasha violently. The other few attempts she made to gently wake her up didn't succeed, so she shook and slapped her to wake up.

“NOOOOOOO! ”Natasha screams, sitting up, beads of sweat rolling down on her face while she's panting, looking around the room until her eyes land on the little redhead who's now on the floor barefoot, head down, and nervous.

She got scared when Natasha suddenly jolted up, thinking that Natasha would hit her or shout at her, so she quickly climbed down, head low and nervous, so she kept taking small steps backward.

This didn't go unnoticed by Natasha, so she took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and Wanda's words kept echoing in her ear: “She will not love you or be there bothering you for your attention forever. Don't take her for granted, Natasha.”

And seeing her own daughter get scared and afraid to be near her is heartbreaking. She knows that sooner or later, her daughter will slip away, so she quickly gets out of bed, going to her daughter, but the little girl quickly backs away when she hears her footsteps.

So Natasha stopped, kneeled down, and carefully reached her arm out with a small smile. This made the redhead look up at the hand and up to her mother's face. Seeing a small smile made her butterfly fly in her stomach, but she was still skeptical; she didn't know Natasha, so she kept staring at her outstretched hand.

“Hey, it's ok, I’m not going to hurt you or scream,” Natasha softly said, making eye contact with her daughter. This brought her to tears, seeing your face on her daughter even though she had Natasha’s fierce red hair, green eyes, and button nose, so she quickly wiped it away for her sake.

“Wh-why are you crying?”Little Redhead asked, stepping forward and reaching out to wipe away the tears that keep running down her face, so Natasha chuckled to cover up the crack in her voice. 

“Nothing; I-I’m just happy and sad at the same time,” she said, giving the little redhead a genuine smile. She was happy that she got how caring you are.

“Can I give you a hug? ”She asked innocently, making Natasha admire her, analyzing every detail on her face, and the silence made the little girl a little bit nervous, thinking that she didn't want hugs.

“Auntie Wanda said if I saw someone's sad, I should ask if I could give them a hug, ca-cause Auntie Wanda said it always works because my mommy used to do it before.” This makes Natasha even fall in love deeper with the little girl, so she quickly hugged her daughter tight, but not too tight to hurt her.

The little redhead smile, wrapping her arms around Natasha, resting her head on her shoulder, happy that she gets to hug her momma for the first time, so she’s relishing this moment, afraid that in the morning she will ignore her again.

“Are you feeling better? ”She asked innocently, so Natasha nodded, cradling her to her arm, and sat at the end of the bed.

“Yes, yes, I am.” Natasha sat the little girl on her lap and looked at her face.

“You look so much like your mother.” The little girl blushed, smiling and getting a little shy at the compliment.

“Th-thank you, you look pretty,” Natasha chuckled, tucking her little girl's hair behind her ear.

“You should go back to bed; your auntie Wanda’s not going to be happy when she finds out you stay awake at this time,” Natasha whispers, and the little girl looks down, fidgeting with her own hands, a bad habit she gets from you when you're nervous, scared, or overthinking, so Natasha stops her hands and holds them. 

“What's the matter? Has something happened?”The little girl contemplates if she will tell her or not, but she has no other choice cause Wanda got called on an emergency solo mission, leaving her with the redhead, so either she should stay awake all night and wait for Wanda to tell her or she should tell Natasha and have a good sleep.

“I-I had a bad dream again,” she shyly said, still looking at her lap.

“The same one you said earlier? ”The little girl nodded, so Natasha took her chin and made her look at her.

“Hey, it's ok, I’m here…… How about you join me in my bed, and we will sleep next to each other? What do you think??”The little girl eagerly nodded; her eyes went wide, and she had a huge grin on her face. She feels like it's her lucky day, spending the night sleeping next to her mother.

“Will you tell me a story? ”She asked, getting in the middle of the bed, and Natasha got under the cover, leaving space for her daughter and inviting her in so the little girl could quickly snuggle at her.

“Of course,"  Natasha starts to tell her a story about how she and her mother met, making the little girl listen carefully and getting amazed by the story until she’s sound asleep in Natasha’s arm, making her smile, and seeing the little girl sound asleep makes her heart melt, so she wraps her arm around her and joins her in a slumber sleep.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanova #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #black widow #black widow 2021 #marvel black widow #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha x you #natalia romanova #mcu marvel avengers #marvel mcu #wanda mcu #mcu #mcu edit #marvel #natasha marvel #wanda marvel

[beepmon]

i’m panicking about my health, my car, school, my future, my relationships with ppl, about my entire life rn p much

#bumbles (bee mumbles) #as much as i hated my dad i did feel a certain amount of security when i could rely on him for the few things i could #he was like a car necromancer #it would function but just kinda barely zombie like vers #and now that he’s passed almost all at once all the cars and things he’s fixed up are breaking #like he infused his soul into them and they no longer has his ecto goop to hold it together #i’ve been ignoring my health problems bc i really hate going to the dr #idk maybe it’s bc i’m fat but they always dismiss my problems and i really am not mentally strong enough to advocate for myself #i tell them i’m in pain and something is wrong and they do maybe two tests and say we can’t find anything bye #and so i just feel like an idiot for going #bc obviously i’m just making a big deal out of nothing #i don’t want to be doing school this semester after last semester i ended up in urgent care twice bc my stress got to my body so hard #i’m taking less classes/more classes i’m actually interested in #but i feel like i’m gonna fall apart horribly again and i just transferred and feel so aimless #but i also feel extremely obligated to go bc that was the last thing my dad wanted from me before he passed #i feel so fucking stupid his death has effected me so bad he was an abusive monster #i feel so disconnected from my sisters that i was super close with #i fee like i’m talking to a wall of past interactions and neither of us can see who we currently are #i feel like i can’t connect to the ppl around me #i’ve been disassociating too often i accidentally keep checking out which is pissing ppl off #i’m so tired and fatigued and depressed that ppl can’t really rely on my and i fee useless and like a drain #plus i just feel so scared all the time recently like all the worst case scenarios are plaguing me #like scared my car is going to explode or my cat is going to have a heart attack or ppl died while traveling or some freak accident

[arthur-r]

hi how is everybody doing??

#im ok im a little bit terrified about how i’m graduating in a couple seconds #by which i mean months but it feels that way #and like hooray i get to move away and be transgender and study history and help people and everything i’ve always wanted to do #but also. the kids in my graduating class. i dont know all of them. a lot of them hate me. but at least they’ve been familiar faces #and the idea of going away to a college where nobody knows my name is kind of terrifying #like i know the entire point is to reinvent myself. but isn’t that scary?? i’m going to become somebody new and that terrifies me #anyway i’m so normal regular. in other news i’m about to have a cranberry orange muffin. so wish me luck with that #anyway there’s this girl i kind of like and i kind of wanted to say something but now it’s kind of pointless #she’s going to the u of m. i’m going to wisconsin. that’s just the end of the road isn’t it?? #nothing is strong enough to say anything. but the problem is it’s like this in high school and i go to college and reinvent myself #then what?? i leave college and reinvent myself again!!!! get a masters reinvent myself again!! move towns reinvent myself again!! #struck by the realization that nothing in life is ever permanent except for death. how terrifying is that #anyway i am so normal and regular and cool and good feeling. everything will really truly be okay it’s just #idk. it’s weird being at this stage in my life. didn’t mean to ramble on like that though #so anyway i hope you all are well and would love to know how you are doing. other than this stuff i’m just hanging out #sending all the love to my senior friends who are in this predicament. and my junior friends who aren’t here yet. and whoever else shdhdf #but especially my friends who are my age or like a year older who are in this same kind of soon-to-be-overwritten high school experience #wish you the best of luck finishing and starting over. and try not to take it as seriously as i’m doing its probably not that bad rationally #and so anyway i hope you are doing well and let me know how you’ve been!! hope everybody is okay #ask to tag idk if this was vent territory but it was like. kinda nearly. i can tag with whatever #me. my post. mine. #college talk #(sorry!!) #delete later

[flamingpudding]

Substitute City Ghost

Clockwork had a plan. Their young king needed to learn how to take care of people without the kind of hero like fighting he did in Amity Park. There was a lot to learn for the young halfa and his king classes could only cover so much. Thus he had found a plan that would give his king the perfect learning expirence while also helping out his recently new friend. Well not that new since his friend was quite an old ghost of their own. But he had only recently made direct contact with her.

Lady Gotham was an old and powerful ghost. Born from the beliefs of her city and strengthened by the once living and protecting it. But she was stretching herself thin. Managing her city, helping the dead find their way, looking out for the shades, and protecting the weaker entities, was already a lot of responsibilities for a city ghost. But Lady Gotham has added more to her plate, supporting those that protect her city. Mortals that she called her knights. Aiding them by controlling the shadows, guiding those that need help toward them, or the other way around, guiding her knights to those that needed help. She was strong, but even a ghost like her could grow exhausted. His friend needed rest and recharge. Surely Lady Gotham wouldn't say no if he invited her to a vacation to the Realms, and in that same invitation, he would direct his king to his new hands on training.

The bats and birds knew something was different about Gotham lately. It was strange and slightly unsettling. The change felt like it had just happened overnight. They were suspicious, wondering if they were sensing one of their rogues planning something big. Jason and Duke appeared to sense it the most.

At first, it didn't appear to be too big of a problem, but then strange things started to happen. Their rogues started tripping over, seemingly nothing. And if that wasn't enough it appeared like their rogues were a whole lot more inattentive to their surroundings. Now the Bats and birds were good at sneaking, but they had human limits. Yet there were times they snuck up on them like they weren't even seen.

Dick swore that one of the goons had stared at him and didn't see him, even though he had tried to pull the tap their shoulder and greet them before punching them act. The guy had turned around and stared at him before looking around like no one was even there until he punched the guy anyway.

And that wasn't even the weirdest part. Bullets, throwing knives or anything aimed and thrown at them never hit their marks. Not for the lag of them dodging but for the things they were sure they shouldn't have been able to react in time for. Tim espacially had pointed out that a bullet should have hit him once but it never even graced him. Yet when he checked the place after the arrest. There had been a clear bullet hole in the wall where he had been.

They weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. They had even tried to get a member of the Justice League Dark to look into it. But strangely enough Constantine had refused to even set foot into Gotham for once, and even insisted that the other do not either.

To say that Batman was not amused would have been a very big understatement. The man was brooding. And of course Dick had to jinx them too. The eldest bat kid had to mention that it at least wasn't getting worse.

And don't you know it. It got worse. Like weirdly alarming strangely worse.

Because, how else would you define it when you're in the middle of a briefing with your patrol partner for the night when suddenly a Lazarus Pit look alike portal opens below your feed swallowed you up and the freaking drops you into the middle of a crime scene or mugging.

It was only thanks to their training that they were able to react quickly enough after a bound of disorientation. But fuck did that gave them all a good damn heart attacks when that happened the first time to Damian of all people.

Something was definitely wrong with their city. Thankfully they had some sort of hint, because the first time the Pit portal happened to Duke, he claimed that he saw a white haired figure right before it had swallowed him hole and spit him out at a bank robbery.

Danny was honestly believing he was doing a good job as substitute city spirit while Lady Gotham was enjoying her vacation. Sure , he still had trouble with some things, but he was sure he was getting the hang of the whole supporting the cities vigilantes gig Lady Gotham had going on. The whole managing the shades and the dead spirits was still up in the air, though. But at least he had figured out a way easier way to guide the vigilantes towards the once that needed help.

Now he just needed to figure out what was wrong with that one guy in the red helmet and he was sure that both Clockwork and Lady Gotham would be proud of him and how he had managed her city during her vacation.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #crossover #dcxdp #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #duke thomas #bruce wayne #lady gotham #clockwork the ghost #lady gotham needed a vacation #and danny a lesson and how to manage taking care of people the not hero way #clockwork thought he was hittinv two birds with one stone #so danny became lady gothams substitute city ghosts #the bats and birds knew something changed #danny believes he figured out vigilante support like lady gotham had #but he is just making the poor bats more and more paranoid and suspicious #the lazarus pit portals were not helping #even if they guided the bats to the crime scenes quicker

[comicaurora]

I'm sorry that the terfs made their way onto your blog but it does feel good to see you support trans people. Thank you for that

Always.

I think, charitably, that the discourse going down on that post is an extrapolation and over-focus on one element of the point I was making: that for me, determining with certainty that I was cis was a rather fraught process. I was presented with many alternatives, but underlying their imposition on me was the oddly regressive idea that the things I liked, the principles I valued, the parts of myself I was proud of were not permitted of women. My whole life I got smacked with the background radiation that I couldn't like being strong because women aren't allowed to be stronger than men. I couldn't like being loud and boistrous because women aren't allowed to take up space. I couldn't be a math geek because women aren't smart. It was all deeply regressive misogyny from day one, but I started getting hit with it slathered in a fresh coat of paint - all those assumptions still held to be true, but now there was the out that I could do all those things if I just wasn't a woman.

Concluding that the underlying bioessentialist premise was wrong was very important. Absolutely none of those statements were true, and were only ever maintained by cultural saturation, goalpost-readjustment when they were actively disproven, and the occasional bout of lying with statistics to pretend they weren't just Shit All The Way Down. The core premise that certain things were only permitted of or possible for men was bullshit, and I didn't need to surrender the gender I liked best in order to play in the spaces I wanted to. I could simply exist the way I was already existing. I didn't need anything else.

The misinterpretation is the assumption that this being true of me means this is everybody's relationship with gender. I turned out to be cis, so for me, feeling that holding onto my assigned gender wasn't allowed was distressing - just another invocation of the same bioessentialist bullshit I'd been dealing with since the preschool playground. This is because misgendering is fundamentally denying that a person has the right to express themself the way they want. When aimed at me, it says I'm not performing traditional femininity well enough to deserve my pronouns. The same disrespect is the root of misgendering when aimed at trans people. "Perform your gender to my satisfaction or I will confiscate it."

The problem is, bioessentialism is 100% ingrained into the terf playbook, which is why, for instance, all their shitty talking points about trans athletes eventually boil down to "no woman can ever defeat a man in any contest because we are simply naturally weak and stupid and there is nothing we can do about it" and quite frankly nothing disgusts me more than the defeatist acceptance of the very lie that feminism is dedicated to overcoming. Instead of accepting that the paradigm of bioessentialism is a false dichotomy right from the jump, they embrace and weaponize it against the people whose existence proves the dichotomy is a lie. If gender essentialism is fundamentally false, then it is nobody's fucking business what anybody does with their gender. If the lines don't exist, nobody needs to enforce them. And yet there the terfs go, hunting down people whose lives are none of their business and trying to argue that they represent some great and terrible evil, some downfall of society made flesh, something that makes it totally correct and normal for them to spend so much time thinking about strangers' genitalia. They want this to be a noble crusade so badly they won't even examine what flag they're flying.

I love and support the trans people in my life and will always, always stand on the side of your right to exist, but alongside that, terf rhetoric especially disgusts and infuriates me because it is, at its heart, utter cowardice. The world told them they were weak and stupid and inferior and they fucking believed it. And now they think Fighting The Good Fight For Women means turning around and using the same paradigmatic weapon that hurt them to hurt the people whose existence outside the binary proves the weapon is a lie. They're the same shithead schoolyard bullies who made me believe my entire existence was foundationally wrong for years of my life and I will never, ever side with them or the shitty, cowardly rhetoric that contributed to the loneliest years of my life.

Figure out who you are and do it on purpose. Find the real source of the misery in your life and try fighting that instead of the other crabs in the bucket. Trans rights.

#asks #not aurora

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Class clown

class clown gyu who for some reason has it out for nerd!reader and finally she gets sick of it and puts him in his place. warnings: dom!reader, sub!gyu, handjob, blowjob, dirty talk, pathetic gyu as always

"What is your problem?" You snap at Beomgyu, the class clown and the bane of your existence. He is always on your case, making fun of you in front of everyone. Today you made a mistake answering the proferssor's question and he immediatley jumped on it, humiliating you in front of the entire class. "Why do you have to mess with me?"

"Because you're fun to mess them." He answers simply, a huge infuriating grin on his face. You look really funny when you're angry."

You don't know what came over you, you're not usually a violent person but seeing his stupid cocky face makes you lose it and you shove him against the wall, slamming your hands on either side of his head to trap him in. "Do I look funny now?

But to your chagrin, he keeps grinning, not phased one bit. "Kinda."

You're so frustrated you could cry. There was nothing you have ever thought of or done that got him to leave you alone. He has been doing this to you for years, even back when you were at school. In fact you had been so excited to go to uni just to escape him, only to see his stupid face at your first lecture and your entire dream of escape came crashing down.

"What? The smart mouth finally has got nothing to say?" He goads when you stay quiet too long for his liking.

Your vision turns red. He makes you so frustrated and pent up, you would do anything to shut him up. Maybe that's why you resorted to doing something crazy.

Grabbing his face, you push your lips against his, intending to strong-arm him into silence. After all if his lips are busy, he can't mouth off anymore.

You don't know how you expected him to react to that--freeze in shock? Push you off? Call you crazy? You don't know but you certainly didn't expect him to almost immediately start kissing you back. It threw you off so hard you actually pull away from the kiss yourself.

But as soon as you pull back, he's running his mouth again. "Damn, nerd, looks like your mouth is good for somethjng other than eating the professor's ass."

"You're so fucking.. ugh!" You groan, shutting him up again. But this time you don't just use your mouth, instead you raise his shirt up, feeling up his body to his nipples and grabbing them between your thumbs and index fingers and pulling on them a bit roughly, making him gasp and break away from the kiss with a wet smack.

"Oh god," He groans, eyes fluttering as you roll his nipples between your fingers.

"You like that, brat?" You spit, happy to finally be getting the upper hand for the first time in your years of being tormented by Beomgyu.

"Fuck yeah." He groans and tries to reach out to touch your own tits.

"Don't fucking touch me, brat." You hiss at him, "If you touch me, I stop."

"You're being such a killjoy." He protests but it's hard for him to keep a steady voice when your fingers are playing with his clearly sensitive nipples like that, and even more so when one of your hands slips into his loose pants to palm his already very hard cock.

"You look like you're enjoying it enough." You mutter, twisting your hand up to the head of his cock, making him moan out.

"Fucking hell...Are you gonna fuck me?" He asks bluntly.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Gyu?" You ask, and any hesitency over the unfamiliar nickname vanishes as he shudders under your touch.

"If you're going to be handling my cock like that then I damn well expect to get a fuck out of it." He replies, still insolent despite his whimpering and frankly slutty moans.

"You're such a little bitch." You chastise, focusing your strokes on the head of his cock, aiming for maximum damage. "You think you deserve to get anywhere near my pussy after the shit you've pulled over me for years?"

He shrugs, trying to affect nonchalance but it's hard to but he's panting like a bitch for you. "Maybe if you get fucked good, you'd be a little less uptight.

Uptight! Just because you care about your future, that doesn't make you uptight. God, you hate him... but damn, does he looks fucking hot falling apart in your hands like that.

"And maybe if you were getting any attention on your cock apart from your own hand, you wouldn't be such an attention seeking slut." You jeer, getting down on your knees. "Now shut the fuck up or you won't get to cum at all."

"What--" He doesn't have time to formulate his question before you pull his pants down and wrap your mouth around his cock, sucking any retort right out of him.

"Oh, fuck, that's it." He arches his back, driving his cock further down your throat which you readily take, to his surprise.

"Fuck, where did you learn to suck dick like this?" He asks through his moans but you don't bother to answer him. You don't owe him an answer, you just want to shut the bitch up.

But Beomgyu is incapable of shutting up. "Have you been sucking dick on the down low? I didn't know the nerd is such a big slut. Thought you were a good girl."

You detach from his cock to retort, tearing a whine out of him which the idiot is too stupid to realize he is the cause of. "You're one to talk. Look how loudly you're moaning as soon as you get your dick wet. What? No one wants to fuck such a loudmouth?"

"Fuck you." He mutters, and you laugh. "You wish, baby." You smirk, bobbing your head down his cock again, going ruthlessly fast and getting the brat to writhe under you.

You think that would be the end of it but Beomgyu could die and his mouth would still be running. "Seriously, who are you fucking? Taehyun? Soobin? Don't tell me it's that manwhore Yeonjun?"

You pull off his dick in frustration, using your hand to jerk him off roughly instead. "Why do you fucking care who I fuck?"

"I don't care." He huffs, arching his back to push his cock further into your grip. "I just know they can't be fucking you good if you're still so uptight all the time. If you want a good time, I could give you the time of your life."

You burst out laughing, obviously bruising the boy's ego in the process but you don't care. And you don't even bother hiding your incredulity. "You? Do you even see yourself? I'm barely even moving my hand and you're fucking it like a dog in heat. Your dick is drooling all down my arm. You look like you're a few pumps away from creaming yourself. I don't think you'd even make it one stroke inside my pussy before you pop like a virgin."

"No, I'm not." He denies, trying to keep his hips still, clearly fighting with himself. "I can fuck you so good you'll screaming my name."

"You can? You can take hot, tight pussy until I cum? You can have me clench around your needy cock without emptying your balls inside me?" You reach your other hand out to cup his balls, massaging then gently between your fingers, making him suck in a shuddering breath. "You can hold back your hot cum until I'm ready to milk your cock? You won't just break and spurt your cum inside me as soon as you put it in?"

"Fuck, fuck, slow down." He gasps, trying to squirm away from your touch but you hold him tighter, jerking him off steadily.

"Why? Are you going to cum just from my hands? That's disappointing. I thought you wanted to give me the fuck of my life?" You cock your head to side, staring up at him condescendingly, making him shudder.

"Baby, please, slow down?"

"Baby?" You laugh. "Now I'm baby?"

"I can't take much more." He was jerking uncontrollably in your grip but you never let go, taking the hand on his balls off to press it against his lower tummy to hold him in place as you continue jerking off his now very red and slippery cock.

"Are you gonna cum?" You ask again and he nods, biting onto his lip harshly. "Yes, can I?"

You have to say you were taken aback at him suddenly asking for your permission to cum. You would have thought the brat would just do it with no warning. "Aw, baby is asking for permission to cum? If I knew it was this easy to get you to behave, I would have... well, actually I still wouldn't have touched you any sooner. But it's good to know how pathetic you really are."

"Fuck you." He repeats, voice strained in his effort to still hold back.

"You want me to say you can cum?" You tease, twisting your hand over the length of his cock slowly.

He nods. "Yes. Need it. Need it."

"Are you going to be good to me from now on?" You ask and he shakes his head. "You're too fun to tease."

"You are too." You counter, slowing your hand down, making him thrust his hips to try to get more of your touch so you smack his thigh in punishment. "Down, boy!"

"Baby, please!" He begs so sweetly, pining you with his pretty, brown eyes, his dick drooling in your grip.

"Are you going to be good from now on?" You tighten your grip around him as you deliberately move your hand up the entire length of his cock, feeling his precum dripping down your arm.

"Yes, yes, I'll be good. I'll be so good." He babbles, and you know he is lying his ass off, just wanting to say whatever would get you to let him cum, but even that makes you feel so fucking hot. To have that effect on your tormentor after all these years is a fucking head rush.

"God, you're a mess." You mutter, quickening your pace over his cock, making Beomgyu panic. "Wait, wait, can I cum? Can I cum?"

It's a little precious how much he panics over cumming without your explicit permission, so much so you decide to just give it to him, wanting to see the brat completely lose it in your grip.

"You can cum, brat." As soon as you utter the words--as if he was really waiting for them--he explodes, spurting rope after rope of cum down your arm and onto your chest.

"Thank you. Thank you, baby." He cries, emptying himself for you until he can no longer hold himself up anymore and collapses to the ground by your side.

But to your surprise and mild horror, Beomgyu takes a minute to calm himself down before he grabs his own cock and strokes himself to full hardness again, bearing through the pain of overstimulation for a reason that only becomes apparent to you after you ask, "What the hell are you doing, Beomgyu?"

"I promised I can fuck you good, didn't I?"

He really is insane.

____________________

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #sub!txt #sub!beomgyu #sub!idol #dom!reader #just a small unedited thing cuz I miss writing for gyu 😭 #really wanna get out the next yamqn chapter but have no time at all #so take this messy thing as a compromise

[hazashiovo]

hii i was wondering if it was possible if you could do a korra x earthbender fem reader who is lin’s daughter?? thank you so much!! 🫶🫶

Ooo ,yes ofc <3

The best view

"Stop staring." You words cut the thick silence in the room.

"I'm sorry,I just never expected Beifong to have a kid." She crosses her arms, looking you up and down. You scoff anoyed at her rude staring. "So? It doesn't mean I'm a painting so you can stare at me." You roll your eyes."Like mother like daughter." She mumbles,loud enough for you to hear her.

"I could never be like my mother." Her eyes follow you figure as you walk towards her. The girl then continues,"How come you're not in uniform?"her gaze eyes you up and down. "I'm not a police officer." You speak, making eye contact with her. "I just thought that if she had a kid, she would want you to work with her or something." She tilts her head looking at you. "She did,It was me who didn't want to."you slump down on the couch.

"I saw you bend,and I think you're pretty strong." Her body remains standing. "My bending is not the problem." You leave out a small smile at her compliment.

"Then what is it?" Before you could say anything, Lin enters the room. "Chief," your gaze follows Lin's.

"I have a matter to discuss with the two of you." Lin's gaze moves from you to the girl.

"I mean,that's the whole point why you got me here.* The dark haired girl shrugs,sitting down on the couch.

"(Name) ,I want to introduce you to Korra,the avatar." You look at the girl with furrowed brows. "She's...the avatar?" You tilt your head,how could she be the avatar? She looks fine or whatever,but you imagined her to be something... different?

"Of course I'm the avatar! Who else would it be?" She chuckles at your confused expression,Lin continues. "Yes,and you will show her around Republic city,and make sure nothing happens to her." Lin commands, staying strong in her uniform, a fierce look on her face (like usual dare I say).

Your brows remain furrowed, "Why would you trust me with this task?" Your arms now crossed, suspicious of her trust in you.

"The two of you are close to age,and since you're my daughter,I trust you make sure nothing happens to Korra." Her words take you by surprise,you nod, smiling you nod. "Nothing will happen to the Avatar in my presence,I promise." You feel so proud,she finally has something important for you to do.

"I don't need protection,I'm the avatar? remember?" Korra crosses her arms.

"And I'm the Chief in this town ,and if you want to walk freely in my town you will do so with my daughters protection." Lin narrows her eyes at Korra.

"I am more than capable of taking care of myself!" Her defiant nature amuses you.

"if you wish to remain in Republic City you will obey my rules. End of story." Your mother slams her hand on the table, clearly done with the girl's comments.

"Fine! Whatever." Korra ends up leaving the room, allowing you and your mother to be alone.

"This girl..." She sighs,sitting down on the couch facing the one you're on.

"Working with her will be a challenge." You joke, earning another sigh from your mother.

"You're a big girl,I know you're capable or I would have assigned you for her." You smile at her (sort of?) compliment.

"I'll do my best." Earns a nod from Lin.

You warmed up to her rather quickly,and the other way around. Turns out she's a pleasant company to be around.

For the next few weeks you spend time with Korra,even getting to know her better, sharing a few things about yourself.

Besides the fact that she's a little cocky (a little more) Korra is a great person to be around.

"So tell me! how was it being raised by Beifong? Is she always like that? Did she want you to take after her?" You smile at her curiosity, "Sometimes, but as a child she never implied I become a soldier,like her" the memories bringing a nice warmth in your chest.

"My mother would sometimes take me outside of Republic City, we would hike for hours to get to the most breath taking view I could see as a child." Korra watches your expression, she must admit,you're very pretty.She finds herself staring at you quite often,but she can't figure out why you're so captivating.

Once you lock eyes with her she forgets anything she wanted to say before,just staring at your face.

"Republic city is boring,I know a place you would like." You smile,taking her hand in yours, passing by many streets.

She looks at you confused as you tell her to hold on.

The earth beneath your feet started rising up,until you decided it was enough.

You started walking deeper and higher to a place only you knew.

"Where are we going (Name)?" She speaks between chuckles.

"You'll see,just trust me." You look back at her ,winking.

Her face is slightly warm to touch,Korra follows after you,passing by trees and going higher up a hill.

If she wasn't so busy watching your body instead of the place you were leading her too she would have noticed the view already.

"Were here!" Your voice brings her back,gaze moving away from your body ,now focusing on her surroundings.

Hands still entangled you stop , letting go of her hand. Her eyes fall on her now empty hand, slightly disappointed.

"Korra,look." She follows your voice, gaze falling on the breath taking view in front of her.

Your hand takes hers,leading her next to you on the grass.

"It's beautiful,isn't it?" She looks at you, analyzing your face ,reading its expressions like it's an open book for her to learn from.

"It is." Your eyes meet,locked on each other. Your hands entangled on the grass, the looks shared between the two of you speak like no words ever could.

She leans in,one hand now cups your cheek,her skin is so soft..

"Korra I..." You struggle to find the right words,mind clouded by the thought of her and only her. Fortunately there is no need for words,not now.

Her eyes scan your face for any kind of resistance,any kind of hesitance,but there's none in sight.

Her lips crash into yours in a soft ,loving kiss.

Korra's hands are cuping your cheek, while yours are around her waist. Fingers gently rubbing the material on her skin.

The kiss lasts a few seconds,but it feels like time stopped.

You move away from Korra's lips, smiling while looking at her bright blue eyes.

"I just kissed Beifong's daughter." You laugh softly at her words,placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"The avatar kissed me." You grin,noticing her proud smile.

"And I'd do it again."

.

.

.

Took me a little to search for a plot ,but here it is. Hope you like it ;).

Depending on the attention this fic is getting,maybe I will make a part two.

#x reader #korra x reader #legend of korra x reader #avatar korra #korra #tlok korra #tlok #the legend of korra #the legend of korra x reader #reader #female reader #korra x fem reader #wlw post #wlw #lgbtqia #avatar #earth bending #lin beifong #beifong reader #lin beifong reader

[storiumemporium]

Astarion As a Father

Fem!Tav/Reader

I FINALLY GOT A NEW KEYBOARD WITH FULLY FUNCTIONING KEYS LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I elected to write about something that's been giving me brainworms for ages, because I'd been talking about it with someone on here awhile ago and it just infested me. Astarion finding out you're pregnant and how he handles fatherhood. (Or, in this case, doesn't at first.) This isn't my best work but I blame it on the fact that I didn't intend for it to be THIS FUCKING LONG okay 😭

But without further ado, daddy Astarion:

Finding out:

When it comes to children, I think Astarion hasn't put much thought into it beyond 'me!? ABSOLUTELY NOT—'

He has no illusions about his state of mind and his faculties, you see. Astarion knows that he's fucked up, he knows that he's a problem, and he's only entirely too confident that any child unfortunately put under his care would likely end up just as damaged as he is, were they to miraculously make it to adulthood. He's just not equipped for it.

And, frankly, Astarion isn't even aware he can have children... That's just, not something he ever thought to question. He's undead, is he not? That should take care of the...fertility question.

Shouldn't it?

Truth be told, Cazador never told him of the possibilities because it was never meant to be a possibility. Astarion was too malnourished, his victims too short lived for anything to ever have come of it. He was supposed to die a sacrifice, not live to carry his own bloodline (hah) onward.

Were you to ever ask him about it, even jokingly over dinner one eve, he'd be very firm in the fact that it's a terrible idea and he'd be entirely unequipped. He would even go so far as to say he's the worst choice out of all of your past companions.

"Me? No. Absolutely not. I'm sure whatever little devil you managed to cook up would be the most charming child Baldur's Gate has ever seen... But even that magical explosive that fancied himself a God would be better suited to fatherhood, darling. I am built for luxury and adventure, nothing else." All bookended by typical Astarion preening.

So when the day comes and you inform him of the little life growing in your womb?

Nope. Not happening, not even a chance of happening.

The denial is strong with this one.

And when I say denial, I mean that Astarion well and truly blots out what you've said from his mind, as if it simply didn't happen at all. You never had the conversation, you never dropped the revelation, there is no child, he is not becoming a father.

It's not a lack of want— though he doesn't realize that yet— it's true, blinding terror. Before it was just a joke, just something for him to brush off with commentary about how terribly he'd do as a parent, better the uncle than anything else. But now it's a reality and to accept what you've said is to accept that he might well and truly destroy a child. But not just any, yours.

The traumas Astarion possesses heap onto his shoulders and slough off plentiful enough to make new oceans of it. Now, not only is he just beginning to regain his own autonomy, he's supposedly being given responsibility over a brand new life?

(It would only make sense for Astarion in retrospect, that the life you willingly sacrificed to nourish and nurture him would in turn allow him to grow a new life within you. The fool had just been too blind to consider it: The way, fresh off your blood, he could pull back from the delicate column of your throat and you would find his cheeks and ears and chest flushed with the loveliest shade of pink, eyes wide and soft and alive. The way his entire body would warm, going from corpse frigid to something just beneath normal. The way his once-still heart would slowly beat again.

He'd even asked you once- curled together on a familiar silken bed, foreheads touching and your hands clasped together between your chests- if you knew what it felt like to be so, so hungry that all you could even think about was about badly you wanted to eat? How food sounded so good that the desire became crossed and instead felt even more painful and nauseating? How it consumed your ability to make rational decisions, denied you the capacity to control your emotions?

He'd told you then, voice tender and timid and weak, that he'd felt like that every single day for two whole centuries, until the night you'd willingly laid down on that cot and put your life in his hands.

It was so simple really, of course you granted him the strength to create life. It was you.)

And of course it comes to a head before there is any chance at recovery. Your body begins to show the changes, you begin to swell, and Astarion only grows more avoidant and flighty. Because now he can't simply wipe the idea from his mind and continue on as if the child doesn't exist, the proof is there every single time he looks at you. He makes it very clear to you that he will not be returning to your side without a confrontation, a very potentially ugly one at that.

And ugly it is, explosive. Astarion hasn't truly had the time to recover from his life under Cazador, and all of those protective traits he grew remain sharp as ever, returning to the surface as if they'd never truly gone away to begin with. He sneers and hisses, tries his best to dig in and hurt you enough to stop poking his tender wounds. Enough to push you away so he can lick his wounds back open. He'll go so far as to accuse you of infidelity, though he regrets the words the moment they leave his lips, it's easier for him to imagine that you simply grew tired of him, that you were weary and longed for the daylight. That you wanted someone who could hold you beneath the sun, unlike him.

How you respond to this is entirely up to you, but just shy of throwing something truly despicable back into his face, such as Cazador, Astarion will apologize... eventually. If you remain stalwart and patient, if you have it in you to recognize that he doesn't mean his words, that he's barbing you with intent, Astarion will break down in that very same argument, his angry and accusatory rant will dissolve into an admission of deep insecurity and deeper terror.

But if you respond with anger? Justifiable, and Astarion knows that even in the moment as it's happening, but emotions rule him far more than he'd ever care to admit, and he will dig in and relish the reaction he's managed to draw from you. He will bristle and bite back until suspicion and bitterness fully claims his heart, and he aborts the conversation to hide in the shadows.

Astarion will wait until nightfall, until his freedom calls for him. The one thing that always manages to clear his head, even when you prove to be the cause of his muddying. It's a reminder, every time he steps into the cool and dark of Baldur's Gate, that Cazador is dead and he is a free man. That he can go where he chooses and when he chooses to, and not only that no one can stop him, but that you wouldn't even want to stop him.

And that truth is always what brings Astarion home.

Under the distant lonely stars and that cold moon, he has to remember that time and again you have let him. You have accepted him, you have not fought him on anything shy of a horrible mistake he wanted to make in a moment of weakness and hysteria. You have accepted all his deepest and ugliest wounds and kissed them like they were freckles to pour affection on. You fought Cazador for him, you defended him from your own friends. You even- at times- tested your own morals for him.

You wouldn't betray him, and Astarion knows he can't betray you.

Astarion would return to you late, curling into bed at your side, his eyes would not meet you, and his apology would come in the form of a simple confession. "I am... afraid. I am afraid."

Astarion wouldn't blame you if you don't forgive him immediately for his transgressions, he was cruel and you were vulnerable. But even then you'll find that your love doesn't abandon you again. He accepts- however frightened- that what you've said is true and is coming, and he must accept it. Mind you, it won't be perfect and it won't be romantic. Astarion doesn't know the intricacies of handling a pregnant woman, he's hardly tactful beyond his well honed and flirtatious lines. He genuinely loves you, but he's going to come pre-equipped as father material.

You need something? He'll get it with minimal complaint (but never none, you'd sooner get him to dye his hair black than cease complaining for the sake of it), he won't begrudge you your mood swings though he might be inclined to poke fun at you ever so often. And he will panic when you burst into tears for seemingly no reason, and no- time doesn't make him adjust, he will panic just as much the thousandth time as the first.

However, if it's any consolation. The moment your child enters the world, Astarion is a changed man.

When You Go Into Labor:

Astarion did the honors of informing all of your friends about your pregnancy, once he came to terms with it. And believe me when I say it is extravagant. The stationery and grandiose script that Astarion wields when informing everyone that you were expecting better fits a wedding invitation than it does... well. Very elegantly explaining that Astarion had accidentally knocked you up.

You can tell from the splotchy stains addressed to you from Wyll and Karlach that one of them had been crying when penning the message, Astarion has coin on Wyll, and you on Karlach. Lae'zel never responds to begin with and you know for a fact the Githyanki's response will likely come in the form of her simply showing up one of these days, unprompted. Jaheira personally and rather frequently visits as well, she becomes a sort of bastion as nerves take you over, confident and calm as she is. Halsin's "letter" arrives late, rather because alongside his letter is several little carved animals for the child's room, and mentions of a quilt he intends to bring along when next he visits. Shadowheart's letter, while congratulatory, contains an air of interrogation strung all about it, all aimed with pinpoint precision at the man responsible for your pregnancy and dripping with sarcasm.

Gale's letter is seven pages long, comes with a violet hued wax stamp, and multiple different inks in the most lavish hand he can manage. You daresay he's competing with Astarion. However, surprisingly, Gale's seems to be the most... helpful of them all? It wasn't your intent, you simply wanted your dear friend to join you in celebration, and yet Gale goes on to inform you that upon reading the letter he'd become a madman in pursuit of knowledge on pregnancy and giving birth. He admits that this wasn't a particularly fruitful endeavor, as he's rather confident that you're not a gnoll, troll, cambion, succubus, or any other variety of strange creature with strange metrics of procreation. Still, Gale directs the latter portion of his letter to Astarion quite pointedly, informing him of bookshops around Baldur's Gate where he might have more success.

Astarion scoffs, but you don't miss the way his fingers twitch and flex.

After the hilarity of this is resolved and you just begin to believe that peace might return to your soft little home in the city, the first of your companions begin to arrive.

This continues on for the next week or so, without you ever knowing that this had been planned- and without knowing that Astarion had been the one to plan it. It's a furthering of his apology, of his guilt over the way he'd treated you. Again, Astarion has no illusions of the kind of man he is, and the fact he's not nurturing in the sort of ways that you need- but he's not completely stupid and he knows you're scared. So... bring the cavalry, darling.

Eventually your entire home has become a crash pad for all of your dearest friends, your family, and you only grow suspicious of Astarion's hand in this chaos because he's surprisingly amicable to having his peace so thoroughly disturbed by 'everyone and their mother'. Truly, he manages to bite his tongue some of the time about them trampling his fine rugs and scratching the plates. He even seems... wistful about it. As nostalgic as you openly are at seeing all of these beloved people under one roof again.

Nights are filled with raucous laughter, clattering utensils, a table so thoroughly overcrowded that people are playfully shouldering each other out of the way for a chance to get at their own food. And Astarion stays faithful at your side, his hand perpetually clasped gently around yours, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. Days are never spent alone, no matter what it is you need to do, someone (if not everyone) is following you along. And though Astarion feels his heart ache that he can't join you, he'll be glad to know you're safe.

Besides, your companions are likely all taking turns tormenting, testing, and relentlessly teasing him about what is to come. He has his own hands full. He's starting to regret being such a generous lover.

And then your water breaks in the dead of night.

Remember how I said Astarion was far from perfect? This would be one of those moments that it really shines.

Not that he's particularly terrible, no. He's not actively cruel toward you, and certainly not dismissive, it's somewhat the opposite. Halsin and Jaheira end up the ones helping you, the only two with some iota of understanding on what was happening and what to do with and for you. The others, less experienced in "mundane" medical situations will take up the second most important role.

Prevent Astarion from catastrophizing any more than he already has been.

Karlach has been the sole force capable of keeping Astarion away from the wine, typically bear hugging him away from your cellar while Wyll tries his best to talk your lover down from a total nervous breakdown. Of which he nearly has, several times. It's not even the sight of you, specifically. He's okay with being at your side and holding your hand, in trying his best to provide comforting words that aren't laced with sarcasm for once. But the sounds you make, that's what breaks him. Astarion isn't good at hearing you scream from the pain, he isn't good at the choked sobs or your heavy breaths. The way you sound like you're struggling against death. It makes him want to crawl out of his own skin, fight assailants that aren't there.

And for a few hours there, in the midst of your labors and your exhausted, pained little cries, Astarion isn't sure how he can love the child causing you this much suffering. It's not as if Astarion was an altruistic man on his best days, as if he were particularly reasonable when it came to you. You've both come to a mutual understanding that were something to happen to you, no morals would be involved in the things Astarion would do to rectify it.

And now, here you are, suffering. Astarion isn't supposed to do a thing about it? He's supposed to be- what, overjoyed by it? It infuriates him, he's truly prepared to have a grudge match with an infant.

Until, as the sun is starting to creep up on a brand new day, it's no longer your screams that meet the air, but another's entirely. Tiny but powerful, high pitched little squeals of fury and distress. And your laughter, disbelieving, soft, adoring already.

Astarion has a daughter.

I go with the HC that Astarion had eyes like honey once, and that his daughter takes after that, along with the delicate points of his ears mirrored in her own. She's small, so small, but healthy and already feisty, wiggling as best as her tiny body can whilst still too heavy for her to lift and move.

You're the first to hold her of course, and Astarion will be at his knees beside the two of you. The expression he wears is something you've seen maybe two or three other times in the entire time you've known him- moments when you know he expected everything to fall apart, moments where he couldn't believe that the world was so good.

It's then that you can breathe for the first time, and know that both of your darlings will be just fine.

Once he does hold her, he's not inclined to let her go. Even once you ask to have her back, he'll simply move you into his lap, so that he can hold you both. It's better that way anyhow, having both of his girls in his arms. And Astarion will repeat again and again how stunned he is, he just can't believe it. Cannot fathom any of it. I think he's the type to say that he's speechless and then spend the next five minutes doing nothing but talking. It's nervous rambling, but still, speechless is not the term I would use to describe him here.

Astarion With Your Baby:

Once your little darling is actually in your lives, you get to see how hilariously unorthodox Astarion is with children. Especially his own. Astarion doesn't baby-talk like you or the rest of your companions, he speaks in the same exact tones as he would a grown woman. In fact, for the first few days you're adjusting to a child in your life, you sometimes mistake Astarion as speaking with an unexpected guest, only to round the corner and find him lightheartedly chastising his own daughter for her poor nappy conduct as he wrinkles his nose and changes her diaper.

He's disgusted by that, by the way. Absolutely hates it, complains loudly about having to do it. But if you so much as try to stand to help he'll force you back down onto your chair or the couch, something something not useless something something already up, darling. It's as if Astarion is simply allergic to admitting that while it makes him nauseous, he wants to care for his daughter. He wants you to rest.

And yes, Astarion is the type of father that thinks all other children are hideous little fecal beasts and his daughter is the only gorgeous little angel in the entire world. Perfect, can do no wrong. He tells her as such too, in the same deadpan voice he always uses, wiggling and stretching her legs.

"You know, darling. You should count your blessings, you're the only child I've ever seen that doesn't look like some sort of hideous, deformed bean. I can't be surprised though, with as gorgeous as your parents are." And though he rolls his eyes, he's unable to contain the grin that shows his teeth when she coos and squeaks at the sound of his voice.

And yes. Astarion dresses up with his child.

The older she gets the more he does it, little matching outfits and ribbons. Nothing that she would choke on, were she to get her mitts on it. (You had to be the one to tell him no, at first. He did throw a little fit about it, just a small one).

But it's not all lighthearted, good or bad.

There are times where Astarion won't touch your daughter, won't be alone with her in the same room. He fears it, he'll eventually tell you. His... affliction came with it's dangers, always. But he's always trusted that you could defend yourself, and you're big enough that he can't just kill you between one blink and the next. The same can't be said of your darling girl. She's so small and so fragile that, were he to lose even the slightest grip of himself around her, it could cost her her life. No doubt it would traumatize her for life, regardless.

You watch it, too. The way it pinches his brows and makes him wipe his palms against his pants as if he were sweating. Nervous habits creeping up his throat and causing him to pace about like a caged animal. It's during these times that you have to bring your daughter to him. Gently place her in his arms and remind him that he's loved her from the moment he saw her. And where once he held trepidation and queasiness at the prospect of fatherhood, you can see him care so much about this little bundle that he looks sick from it. A vulnerability he can't mask.

And of course, there are times he nearly weeps for other reasons.

Like when she takes her first steps, and immediately tries to run for him.

And Astarion knows he should let her tumble, that it's good to let her fall and get back up again, but the moment her unsteady feet cause her to careen she's safe in his arms. Little kisses peppered against her giggly face. And he'll tuck away against her to try and get his bearings back, but she'll pat his cheeks and tug his ears- and you'll have to distract her with a toy while he hiccups and sniffles down his need to cry. He wasn't ready for her to grow so fast, gone is the tiny bundle that could fit perfectly in one arm, now she's walking. How long before she's dating? Gods, should he be preparing for betrothal requests!?

"I want to be mortal." He whispers to you, one night. She's tucked between your bodies, sound asleep and wiggling from time to time. This is one of the rare moments you and your love can speak to each other uninterrupted, in the tranquility of the dark hugging around you.

It's strange that he brings this up now, you'd spoken about it several times since the Elder Brain had been taken down... But in the past few years since your daughter had been born, all of that had fallen to the wayside. "What brings this to mind, Starling?"

Your hand comes to cup his throat, as you watch and feel him work as if he were swallowing a stone. "I don't want to outlive this."

It's hard to blink the tears from your eyes, understanding the implications.

Were he actually two hundred years old, Astarion wouldn't survive well past the existence of his sweet little family.

He'd been more melancholy the past few weeks, after realizing that your daughter was beginning to function on her own. She was walking, grabbing things, talking in rudimentary sentences. She was even beginning to call him pa.

He'd cried, at that.

"I'll forget," his voice draws you out from that brief reverie. The distress is palpable, but runs low like the tide before a storm. "I'll forget all of this. I don't want to know what I'll become, then."

And when you run your hands up into his hair, to scratch lovingly along his scalp, he doesn't hide the shiver or the way his face presses against your palm, cold and smooth on your skin.

"We'll find a way, Astarion. I haven't given up yet... We just- she's too young."

It's both a strain and a relief, to know that. To be reminded that your daughter is still so small, that he won't be losing her- or you- any time soon. There's still time.

Astarion With Your Teen:

Arguably this is the best time between your daughter and him. It's simultaneously a surprise and yet- not at all? He's more like her confidante and best friend than strictly a father. He isn't one for harsh curfews and strict ways of dress- rather, he's the one she comes to when she's made some sort of mistake. Or when she's angry about something.

In general, Astarion withholds judgement of her, for better or worse. The unintended consequence is that you might become more of her enemy than Astarion, because he's less inclined to punish for questionable behaviors.

It's not that he's afraid of angering her or dealing with push back- rather that Astarion's frame of reference for what constitutes a mistake is ah... rather broken. Even in the beginnings of your relationship with Astarion, the mistakes that would anger him constituted dropping an entire building on his head or... risking being turned into a Mindflayer to help some old lady find her cat.

Not feeling up cute boys in alleyways.

As a result you'll likely need to have a few conversations with him about not being so lenient on her, because she needs to have structure in how to behave. Stealing things is in fact, not okay! And Astarion will listen, but he's always going to be a bit more of a friend than anything else.

A total gossip with her, too. You'll catch them huddled around the dinner table at night, both with a glass of wine (this was an argument that Astarion ended up winning, she's allowed one glass a week, but that's all!) in hand shittalking a storm together. Astarion has become the Baldur's Gate equivalent of a PTA mom, he shows up as stylishly as he can and beefs with the parents of whichever children have upset his daughter the most. And then when they get home they just toss it back and forth together.

But I want to stress, just because he doesn't punish her doesn't mean he isn't protective of her. Astarion is more protective than you are.

Once she begins dating you'll find yourself home alone semi-frequently, because Astarion will play the supportive, loving father part when she leaves- and immediately follow her out into the dark. He's had centuries to know what dangers lurk around every corner, and foggy memories of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time before his nightmare began. He won't allow that to happen with his girl.

And it's funny, because Astarion will talk mad shit to himself while he does it. Logically he knows that she's with some teenage boy or girl, but it doesn't stop the petty, emotional side of him from rolling his eyes and sneering at the cheap one-liners and the dumb tactics that this would-be charmer utilizes. Really, taking her into dark alleys to get her to tuck into you? Going to a totally secret spot that Astarion has known about for at least a hundred and sixty years? Get real, kid.

And you have to try valiantly not to laugh when he comes home, huffing and puffing about it. Because you will hear every single petty thought he had the entire time, and you will know that he looks like a petulant child. It's very cute.

All in all, I think Astarion is a reckless, chaotic, petty father. And one that loves his child so, so much. To the point of ruin, to the point where suddenly staying in one place doesn't seem so bad, just so she can have friends. Helping people isn't the worst, just so she can know there are heroes in the world. Suddenly he's learning to bandage scrapes and kiss bruises, and having tears and snot on his clothes mean nothing compared to the grief of the one shedding them. He loves her in ways he didn't anticipate he ever could. Enough to know all of her ticks and secrets, to know when she's lying through her teeth and when she's being devastatingly obvious.

Learning to cook even when he can't eat, listening to her spin a story with a straight face and then- as she's stepping out the door- telling her to be careful with that boy and listening to her groan loudly as the door slams shut, a mischievous smile on his face.

Holding you and dancing you around, cradling you close with all the tenderness he has in the whole of his body and soul. Kissing you, calling you the mother of his child, thanking you for giving him something he didn't even know he'd wanted. A family.

Small and odd, but his.

#astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin x tav #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[tetsuskei]

synopsis: when a coworker brings their baby to work, that sets off the gears in kuroo's head to have some of your own

notes: first installment of oh, baby! repost from my old blog, with some editing done. please enjoy!

warnings: mentions of kids, unprotected sex, praise, body worship, cock warming, kuroo is horny on an astronomical level

interactions and reblogs are appreciated!

at first, everything is innocent. tetsurō knows his coworker only means well. but tetsurō should've expected that when ‘bring your child to work day’ came at the jva, that he'd encounter at least one infant.

his coworker asks him if he wants to hold their baby after catching him stare at the small child in awe. the resemblance between coworker and child clearly evident. he's so amazed at how strong genetics could be.

then tetsurō wondered how strong his own genetics would be when it came to your children.

to recall back, the conversation of children came up briefly between the two of you. you both decided that it would be logical to wait a little while before trying to have any. kuroo was focused on building up his career and so were you. you just wanted to have your priorities straight and be responsible. nothing's wrong with that, right?

and so the conversation had been left with a pin in it and you both moved on in life. you would question when to have children later.

when holding the child in his arms, kuroo only panicks for a moment (were babies always this small?) before the child naturally curls up into his chest. their tiny hand grabs ahold of his (ridiculously) large pinky before continuing to sleep soundly. they even coo with joy.

"they seem to really like you!" his coworker laughs. "you seem to be a natural with kids!"

tetsurō only crinkles his nose in confusion but he can't help the fluttering in his chest at those words. "i'm not really doing anything but holding them."

they laugh again and nod with understanding. "sure, but you seem to be the type to make a great father, kuroo-san. you're a good person. very patient and understanding. by the way, when do you and the missus plan to have kids?"

and so having been asked the question sent him on a spiral.

by the time he's asked, several years have passed since your first conversation about kids. both you and him are financially stable. you're both lucky enough to live comfortably, and you're both happy where you are in your careers. most importantly, you're both married.

honestly, just the thought of being married to you and having a little family turns kuroo on too much. but he wants to have a family that's better than the broken one he had growing up. the best thing he can do for his kids is show them a healthy and long lasting relationship with their mother. and god does he know he can do that. he loves you so damn much his heart aches. he'll walk across fire for you, and the best part is that he knows you'll do the same for him.

the man isn't really present for the rest of the day, having to be called out during a meeting for being unfocused, and eventually sent home after he lies and says he isn't feeling well. and it's partially true, because now that he knows he wants kids, he feels an empty hole in his chest almost as if a part of him is missing.

and if being 'sick' means trying to conceal the boner in his slacks, then so be it. he doesn't want to relieve himself of his problem, no. not when the only thing on his mind is cumming inside of you raw.

tetsurō comes home to the smell of your cooking, his second favorite scent right after you. just seeing you makes him crazy. he'd been thinking about putting a baby in you all day. his hands itching to get started.

you haven't seen him yet, but tetsurō doesn't waste anymore time. he simply eyes you intently, taking time to admire you and all the soft curves of your backside. your perfect ass. you feel the warmth of him before seeing him and that's enough to startle you.

a small gasp leaves your mouth as you look up at him surprised before a honeyed smile appears on your face. a smile that's only reserved for him. "hi! you're home earlier than usual."

he returns your greeting with a grin. "hi beautiful, how was your day?" he tugs you into his grasp. lean arms encasing you in his hold as he rests his chin on top of your head and massages your hips.

hips he knows that will bare his children.

"it was good tetsu, are you hungry? i'm finishing up dinner now, and we can talk about your day." you respond, focus retuned to the stove in front of you.

he has to admit, the food smells delicious, but he's hungry for something else this evening. and unfortunately he'll have to endure an earful from you later about letting the food get cold, but he doesn't mean any harm. he just has priorities.

he hums, turning you fully towards him. his eyes lower and become stuck on your stomach. brain stuck on the thought of you being round with his child. you would look so cute pregnant. your breast would be filled with milk, too. maybe you'll let him taste—

"'ro?" you voice snaps him from his thoughts. you try to make eye contact with him and he only smiles, not registering a single thing you just said. his large hands take your face in his hold and you feel his calloused fingers run over your cheeks before he kisses your nose and then all over your face.

"tetsurō, what's gotten into you?" you giggle. you didn't mind his affection, don't get it wrong, but there was something oddly...intense about the way he's acting that you know something is up.

the ravenette seems to contemplate his thoughts, carefully reeling over the words in his mind. "i just thought that...maybe we should start...tryin', that's all." he mumbles, mouth pressing kisses all over your skin. you shiver at his touch, at the way his scent and body crowd in on your space.

ah, there it is.

your cheeks heat up, and you know exactly what he means. his words always slur slightly when he's turned on, almost like he's delirious or hooked on lust.

that paired with his cock poking your backside through his slacks.

tetsurō only continues. "today my co-worker brought in the cutest little baby i'd ever seen. looked just like 'em, too. i didn't really understand how children could make someone so happy...but i'm startin' to." he explains, tugging off your pants and underwear in one fell swoop, the cold air hitting your folds makes you jump.

you swallow nervously, "tetsu—"

"made me realize how cute our kids could—will be. they'd be the cutest in the world, i'm sure. wonder if they'd have my eyes and your smile. and hopefully they'll inherit your hair or else we'll be in trouble." he laughs before he undoes his tie, then his shirt, and tosses the garments somewhere on the floor. his belt is undone next and he's quick to unfasten his pants.

you eyes widen, and your heart fastens at the mental image of a tiny child in your arms, the spitting image of you and kuroo.

your husband pauses again, his brows knitted in thought. "do you think...that i can be a good father? for our kids?" he leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes for a moment as he must be pondering the very question.

“of course.” you nod slowly. "i don't think so, i know so. you'll be great with our kids, tetsu." you answer, running your fingers along his jaw.

"yeah?" he breathes, pulling down his pants along with his boxers. "do you still want some?" he moves your body so that you're sitting safely on the counter away from everything else.

"w-with you? yes..." you answer, voice getting caught in your throat as he prods his fat tip at your entrance. you're already soaked enough that you know he can just...slide right in.

kuroo's breathing becomes extremely labored and his gaze darkens at your words. his single strand of restraint is being pulled taut. "then can we? can we start trying, sweets?" his hands are groping at your chest and hips, and he riles himself up the longer he touches you without relief.

you barely say 'yes' before he pushes himself into you, his jaw going slack as he is enveloped by you, cunt warm and inviting and gummy walls pleasurable beyond means.

his eyes glass over and he's completely enamored by the fact that he can be this close to you. that you trust him to hold you like he is now.

you look up at him with near helplessness as his grip on your legs doesn't loosen up. the stretch of him never is something you think you can get used to, as you feel yourself struggle to adjust to his size. the heavy and thick fullness of his cock is intense. you can feel how it throbs with need.

"do you think—" he moans as your cunt drags over his cock, sucking him in more, "that they're going to be interested in volleyball?" he lets his tip kiss your cervix and you keen, causing a groan to escape his mouth. "you think they're gonna be a middle blocker like me?"

"are you really asking me that right now?" you sigh, fingers frantically gripping the counter beneath you. you move your hips against him and hope that will shut him up.

spoiler, it doesn't. "why not—fuck, just like that baby—it's a genuine question." he buries his face in the side of your neck, and the smell of your lavender soap invades his senses before his teeth choose to bite and scrape at your skin.

"you're such a volleyball nerd, tetsu." you laugh but soon moan as both of your hips move synchronously. "when are you not thinking about it?"

he huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your temple as he presses you further into the kitchen counter. his lips linger against your skin before you felt them curve into a smile. "when i'm busy thinking 'bout your cute self, which is definitely more than volleyball."

you tried to formulate a response but only a refined moan escapes your lips again as kuroo pounds you. the sound of skin on skin filters out any remaining thoughts you had.

"you don't understand how crazy i've been goin' today." he grunts, nearly delirious in the way you cream on him so well. he can already feel himself twitch with the need to cum but as much as he wants to, he wants this moment to last a bit longer. he can't cum before you.

one of his hands lace with your own as he regards you. "been thinking about all the different ways to get you pregnant. of all the cute little maternity outfits you'll wear. of me taking care of you when you get tired and your feet ache. you're going to look so pretty carrying our baby, sweetheart."

he's rambling and you're not even sure if he's talking to you or if he's talking directly to your womb. but his words alone are enough to bring you to your first orgasm, pussy clamping down hard on his cock.

"jesus christ," he groans, struggling to keep composure, "it's like your cunt is trying to suck the life out of me."

you only whimper, legs quivering in a way you didn't know they could as you slip them tighter around his waist. with the way kuroo is bullying your insides he just might be successful at his agenda of getting you pregnant tonight.

he moves your legs over his shoulders, laying you down so your back is pressed against the cold surface of the marble counter. the new angle he decides to rut in you at causes you to cry out in surprise.

"so perfect, so pretty like this split on my cock. gonna be even prettier filled with my cum." his head bows so that he can kiss you and you eagerly meet his lips, the taste of him comforting, addicting, and familiar all at once.

he brings one hand down to your clit, moving his fingers methodically over your bundle of nerves as he coos and encourages you to cum again.

"tetsu, please," you whine, "you feel so good, wanna have your babies." the need and anticipation of getting your husbands cum is starting to make you frustrated yet needy all at the same time. yet the way he's making you feel right now makes you want this moment to last forever.

he must sense what you're feeling and hums, kissing you again sweetly. "oh you're not understandin' me princess," he breathes, hips moving in an animalistic way. "i'm gonna have you knocked up by the end of tonight. that's a promise."

"you promise?" you look up at him with doe eyes, mouth parted as little moans still escape you.

he'd give you the world if you asked. he'd pluck the sun from the sky, too. when he presses his forehead to yours he only professes his love to you like he's saying his vows for the first time. he can feel the tightening of his balls and burning pit in his abdomen as his release creeps up on him.

and when he pinches your bundle of nerves, you cum again for a second time. your eyes roll back in your head and your nails dig deeply into the muscle of his broad shoulders.

tetsurō nearly doubles over when his orgasm follows, and he spills thick, white cords of cum into you. his golden eyes look at you and you swear he cums just a little more from the eye contact you two hold. the hard throbbing and pulsing warmth he provides you makes you clench around him again, a feeling of wholeness and elation when you're finally full of him.

you're both incredibly still for a moment and you just hold each other. he sits you up with regard, and you brush back his sweaty fringe. his large hands massage your muscles before he carefully carries you to your shared bedroom.

he sits down and you realize you're both still very connected.

"t-tetsu!" you grab onto him, eyes widening as your taken by surprised at the new angle.

"fuck..." he hisses.

there's something sensitive in the way he moves inside of you, and you're not sure if that has to do with his cum inside of you or your cunt trying to hold in every drop.

kuroo always liked the notion of kissing your ring finger, because it reminded him that the two of you are joined—united. you start to speak but he does before you can even formulate the words.

"i hope you don't think we're done here." he murmurs, and by the twitch of his cock you know he's serious. him and his damned stamina. exhausted, you only shift your trembling hips to prepare for more.

it's looking to be a long night.

and so it's not surprising when several weeks pass by and when said coworker asks him again about kids, he proudly shows them the ultrasound photo hidden away in his wallet.

he only hopes that after baby number 1 you won't mind more.

taglist (send an ask to be added): @boosyboo9206 @milkteeboba @kodzukenmaaa @honeybleed

#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou smut #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsurō x reader #hq kuroo #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu kuroo #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader

[dimicul]

wine red

simon riley x chubby!female reader

just something quick i wrote after i saw this ghost headcanon on tt :,)

“Nothin’, just don’t like how my stomach sticks out.”

Simon pauses, his expression neutral. He glances towards you, drinking in the sight of your features drawing into a small frown as you studied your reflection, hands supporting the small pudge around your belly. He notes how bloody beautiful you look in red, but looks back to his own shoes, urging back a grunt of frustration.

You never complained about your belly.

He’s been around you long enough to be aware of your insecurities, watching you pad towards the bathroom mirror and prod at your pimples, grumbling at the bump on your nose bridge, sometimes sat beside him in bed with a sparkly face mask on - it was second nature to know you, and although it pissed him off to no end, he also understood insecurities were normal.

But this - this was different. You embraced your body, curves, blemishes and all, the crooks and crevices denting your flesh - you didn’t care for the sly looks or judgemental comments, you wore whatever the hell you wanted. And if anyone had a problem, Simon would have fixed it in a heartbeat. This wasn’t your insecurity, this wasn’t a flaw, it was a part of you you loved.

Simon couldn’t handle your expression.

A sigh, a clacking of heels - you had torn your gaze away from the mirror, face scrunched up into one of those mopey frowns Simon adored, and grabbed the leather coat from the rack. It’s almost suffocating, the silence, and he does realise he needs to say something, but talking wasn’t always his strong suit. So his jaw clicks into place, shoulders broad and unmoving, gloved hands resting on his thighs.

Suddenly Simon is sixteen again and sat in front of his headteacher.

He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, whiskey irises boring into the back of your head before you turn with a half assed smile. Ha. He’s glad he can understand your little moods now, or else this night would’ve turned for the worse.

“Come.” The baritone of his voice draws you out of your darting thoughts. You sigh, stepping forward.

You’re not prepared for when his large hands latch onto your hips gently, pushing you forward so his head could rest on your stomach.

“Si-”

And again. You’re doing things you’ve never done before - you always let him rest on your stomach, it was never something you panicked about. A beat passes and your boyfriend lifts his head, penetrating eyes contrasting starkly against the red of your dress.

“What’s up with you?”

You purse your lips, mulling over his tone. “Nothing, just - this dress wasn’t always so… fitting.”

Simon hums roughly, and you inhale sharply at his hands stroking against your hip tenderly.

“Look’s fine to me.”

Neither of you say anything. Not a lot of words needed to be said around him, but then again, not a lot of men were like Simon. Your eyes soften, and you let your palm rest on the back of his neck, your touch making him hum again, the vibrations against your belly causing you to shudder.

“Ev’ry big boy needs his big girl.”

You laugh sweetly, and finally, he exhales quietly, welcoming the feel of your nails against his neck. He supposed it didn’t matter what the hell you thought about yourself.

Because he’d always want you.

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x chubby reader #chubby!reader #bodyimage #body posititivity #ghost cod #simon riley #fluff #captain price #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #john price #call of duty #angst #ghost x you

[paperultra]

the liminal space.

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 1,575 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol use [A/N: written with the cooper!reader from mise en rose in mind. i don't know where in the timeline this occurs, though. lol.]

cingulomania (noun): a strong desire to hold a person in your arms

Living in close quarters can really change how you see a person.

Roronoa Zoro, for instance, had always struck you as rather aloof, having traveled alone for some time before you joined him, and unused to physical affection. He never gave any indication that he was one to enjoy it, and he never sought it out from anyone. That certainly wasn’t odd. You respected his tendency towards personal space, subsequently believing that it extended to his sleeping habits as well.

So when you wake up, hardly able to breathe underneath the hulking mass of a snoring swordsman, you are more surprised than anything.

“Zoro,” you wheeze, patting his back with the hand that isn’t crushed between his chest and yours. Nothing happens, so you swat harder. “Zoro. You’re crushing me.”

His arms squeeze around you as he stirs, inhaling sharply next to your ear. You stop moving as he lifts his head and opens his eyes just wide enough to register you beneath him.

He pauses.

Good morning, sunshine is what you want to say in a cheeky tone. You want to prove that you’re unaffected by the warmth of his body pressing yours into the mattress, the sensation of his breath across your cheekbone and the way his gaze transitions from something bleary into something sharp.

The greeting refuses to leave your mouth. All you can do is blink.

The next thing you know, Zoro’s rolling off of you and out of bed with nary an apology, mumbling something about going to the bathroom.

You hum distantly in response and stare up at the ceiling as he shuffles to the door. Once he closes it behind him, you reach up and fold your hands over your eyes, cheeks hot.

Great.

—

It all started because you and Zoro could only afford a single bed at the inn.

(You use the term “afford” loosely here. The truth of the matter is that you grossly underestimated how much a room would cost, and the owner of the one place willing to lend you a room for half the usual rate demanded physical labor to make up for the rest. Given that Zoro would be spending most of his time hunting down a bounty, the majority of the unpaid labor fell on your shoulders.)

(But you digress.)

The room is small and bare, which is fine, because you and Zoro don’t have much between the two of you anyway. The only problem is that there is only one bed. Zoro had expressed no qualms about sharing so long as you didn’t disturb his sleep, and you had readily agreed, not wanting either of you to sleep on the floor.

After the first morning, you’re not sure if that was a lapse of judgement on your part or not.

Zoro doesn’t mention it at all before he leaves for the day, and you don’t, either. However, when he comes back in the middle of the night and you’re already in bed, squinting and shielding yourself from the bright hallway light as he takes his slippers off and walks in, he sits on the carpet just a few feet away from your side.

“What are you doing?” you ask as he proceeds to lay down.

“Sleeping.”

He closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head. You frown.

“Why aren’t you sleeping up here?” No answer. You lift your head from your pillow, indignant. “Hey, don’t ignore me! I know you’re still awake.”

“I’ve had a long day,” he grumbles, “so I’d like some quiet so I can sleep. Thanks.”

You huff.

The thought that Zoro might actually be just as embarrassed flits briefly through your mind, but you extinguish it just as quickly. He’s never seemed like the kind of guy to be self-conscious about those kinds of things. A more likely reason is that he’s decided that he wants his own separate space after all and can’t be bothered to kick you off the bed.

So, you kick yourself off instead.

“What are you doing?” The phrase now comes from Zoro as you throw the covers off and grab your pillow, kneeling on the ground beside him. His eyes open and his brow furrows.

“Take the bed. I feel guilty.”

“I don’t want the bed.”

“Everybody wants the bed.” You lie down on the carpet and cross your arms over your chest, stubborn. “I’ve already slept in it. Now it’s your turn.”

“You’re an idiot,” Zoro says.

Neither of you budge.

The next morning, you decide that the first morning was in fact not a fluke, as you awake with your face smushed against his chest and the smell of steel in your nose once again. He’s not on top of you, at least, but the way he clutches you while you’re lying on your side, one ankle hooked over yours, is somehow ten times more mortifying. You wake him up in the midst of untangling yourself and pretend like nothing happened.

Who’s the idiot now? (The answer is both of you. Both of you are idiots.)

—

The third night, you and Zoro flop onto the hard mattress with twin groans, heads spinning and feeling overall miserable.

“That was the shittiest booze I’ve ever had,” Zoro slurs next to you, face down in his pillow.

“But you got a lead, right?” you mumble.

“Yeah …”

You had been there in the bar when he’d gotten that lead, but you can’t remember what it was for the life of you. Another inn? Another bar? Ugh, you’re never drinking there again.

“I’m cold.”

There are blankets on the bed. Unfortunately, getting underneath them would require a lot of moving, and you are physically incapable of exerting yourself that much right now.

You shiver and turn onto your side to curl up. You’ll fall asleep at some point, anyway.

Zoro murmurs your name.

“Hm,” you groan, eyes screwed shut.

He doesn’t say anything in reply. But you hear the mattress squeak, the bedsheets rustle as he shifts closer, and your breath catches when the small distance between you closes. He does not wrap his arms around you, no, but your knees touch, and the heat from his skin melds into yours. You hear his breathing slow to a crawl.

Through your drunken haze breaks through a sudden need to draw him into you, to tuck your face into his neck and keep it there forever. You want – you want. But you’re exhausted, and your head aches, so you find yourself slipping into a deep slumber instead.

He’s already gone when you wake up.

—

A suspiciously lumpy gunnysack in the corner of the room catches your eye once you enter, hand over your mouth to stifle a yawn.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Eight million beri,” Zoro says from his seat on the bed. Cleaning supplies for his swords are strewn around him, and he sheathes the Wado Ichimonji as you close the door. “I ran into another bounty on the way back.”

“Eight mill –” You clear your throat. “Wow. That was pretty lucky.” Eight million beri. Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever get used to how much bounty hunters can make. (God, that would’ve been more than enough to pay for the room.) “We’re heading out to a marine base tomorrow morning, then?”

“That’s the plan.”

He puts away his supplies, setting them and his swords against the wall near his pillow before standing up to pull down the sheets on his side. You turn off the bedside lamp and do the same, crawling in with a sigh.

The two of you simply lie side-by-side until you decide to break the silence with your big mouth again.

“Am I a burden to you?” you ask.

“No.” The plainness of Zoro’s tone is a small comfort, you suppose. “Why are you asking?”

“Well …” You already regret bringing this topic up as you trail off, biting your bottom lip. “I feel like I haven’t really done much. I mean, I help with navigating and searching crowds and stuff, and I’ve been getting better at fighting, but I can’t help you, you know?” You fiddle with your fingers. “You don’t actually need me.”

There’s a gap between you and Zoro that you’ll likely never be able to close. You had always known that, and so had Zoro; in fact, he had told you at the start that going with him was a bad idea, given your inexperience in bounty hunting and traveling in general. And although you’d like to think that your ability to read a map and fix things convinced him of your usefulness, there are times when you think Zoro regrets bringing you along. Like now.

Zoro grunts, turning to lay on his back. His shoulder nearly lands on your hands, and you draw them to yourself as you wait for his answer.

It is brief and straightforward.

“I’m not forcing you to go with me,” he says. “And if you were a burden, I would’ve told you a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

It is brief and straightforward, and yet, there’s a strange lump in your throat. You swallow it and nod, even though he cannot see you do so.

Nothing more is said. However, as the night goes on, you reach out, and you find him, and Zoro finds you, and the space between your arms fills up with warmth and an unspoken promise. And you sleep very well.

#aesthetic words prompt list #opla #one piece #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #opla zoro #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #'if they're broke how come they don't just sleep in reader's boat ?' you may ask. #and the answer is 'for plot purposes' #sorry if this one is wonky it wasn't cooperating for some reason ;-; #but reader gets to cuddle zoro ! that has to count for something right ?!

[angelltheninth]

Jujutsu Kaisen Characters + Kinks

Pairing: Yuuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi, Nobara Kugisaki, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Mahito x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, praise kink, cockwarming, mutual masturbation, choking, edging, dumbification, cnc, semi-public sex, rough sex, dom/sub

A/N: I've seen these for a few fandoms and I thought why the hell not do it.

YUUJI + EDGING

Yuuji is strong, strong enough to take what he wants with no problem. Because of that he feels like its so much more fun when you make him work for it, when his cock and balls hurt from the amount of times you've told him to stop himself from coming. Its been god knows how many hours and yet you keep riding his cock, his eyes foggy with lust as he waits to hear you tell him he can finish.

SUKUNA + CNC

There was a time where consent wouldn't be on Sukuna's mind much, where he knew that everyone would throw themselves at his feet, and his cock when he so much as looked at them. But its so fan to watch you pretend to do the opposite and try to fight him off as he fucks orgasm after orgasm from your cunt. Go ahead, scream, yell curse him out, in the end you both know the truth of it: you wanted it rough, and he was only too happy to break you apart.

FUSHIGURO + MUTUAL MASTURBATION

Be it over text, call, video or in person, mutual is the only kind of masturbation Fushiguro wants once you're a couple. He's fantasized enough, now he wants to see every minute of it. He wants you to look at his bulging tip, how the cum rolls down and makes his cock slick and ready for you while you show him how you want to be fucked by riding that pretty, big, purple dildo right in front of him.

NOBARA + PRAISE KINK

Nobara gets praised a lot by her friends and mentors, its never the same as when you do it. She honestly never knew she had a praise kink until one night when you wouldn't shut up about how good it felt to have her mouth and tongue between your legs. With every breathy, broken word she doubled and doubled her efforts, not wanting it to end, not wanting to stop tasting your delicious pussy.

GOJO + SEMI-PUBLIC SEX

Fucking you behind the temple before a meeting was a thrill like no other. There was a chance that at any moment someone could walk past and see you bent over a statue and taking Gojo's cock like you were a slut instead of a Sorcerer. You can relax, he's keeping an eye out for that, you only need to worry about keeping your voice under control. Little good it does for you both when the sounds of wet slaps are being heard every second.

NANAMI + COCKWAMING

He loves having you sit on his cock while he's working at the desk, looking through cases or papers. He doesn't get to feel you for this long most of the time. Its a rare treat for him, and for you, to constantly feel him throbbing, ready to explode inside of your cunt at the smallest movement. Better stay still, don't make him ruin his suit right before a mission. He'd have a lot to explain and not enough nerves to do so.

GETO + DUMBIFICATION

Nothing more satisfying then watching your fade away into becoming just a sex toy on Geto's cock. You no longer have to think, he'll do all the thinking for the both of you, not that you had much brains to begin with. You don't even have to use your mouth unless its to suck his cock clean after he's filled your pretty pussyhole up with cum. Be his good fucktoy and he'll make sure not to fuck your brains out completely.

MAHITO + CHOKING

You're not allowed to do anything without Mahito saying you can, your purpose is to take his cock and like it, nothing more. Are you talking back? That won't do at all. He's got many solutions for that but the one that gets him hotter then any other is seeing your eyes tear up from straining to breathe when his hands wrap around your throat. Beg but he won't let go, not until you put your pussy to work and milk his cock dry.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuji x reader #sukuna x reader #fushiguro x reader #nobara x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #geto x reader #mahito x reader #jjk smut #jjk imagine #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #yuuji itadori x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #nobara kugisaki x reader #gojou satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #geto suguru x reader

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Green| Part 01

A good idea not thought through.

Tags/Warnings: Rabbit hybrid!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, Single Dad!AU, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, angst, suggestive, mentioned smut but sfw

Length: 3.7k Words

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

When Jimin had set this whole date up, Jungkook had expected.. Nothing, really.  

As far as he knows, he’s supposed to meet you at the restaurant right here, and you supposedly know exactly which table he sits at- but what he did not expect, was for you to be so.. Pretty.  

You’re clearly a fox hybrid, distinctive hybrid features standing out, very much well taken care of. The second you sit down, he notices even the shape of your pupils being the same as a common fox’s, though they don’t make him feel intimidated at all. Not as they should, at least.  

Jungkook remembers the teasing jokes back in school, or the struggle to earn his spot even later in life as a prey hybrid. Many people still believe that he’s not a good fit for a leading position in his company as a rabbit, unable to apparently make important decisions with a realistic view on things or not mentally strong enough to withstand the stress of responsibility. But he’s not just a meek little bunny.  

And from the looks of it, you’re not a dangerous predator either.  

“Well, Jimin wasn’t lying when he told me you were.. Cute.” You say, and Jungkook takes in a deep breath- and you take it as a bad sign, instantly going back on your words. “Not as in, not-to-be-taken-seriously-cute, but like- uh.. Your ears just look.. Pretty?” You tell him, and at that, his eyes move to look at you from the rim of his wineglass, one of his mentioned black rabbit ears slowly standing up.  

Silver piercings are decorating it. It’s an uncommon sight- but you decide it fits him.  

“...thanks.” He nods, before he licks his lips, and averts his eyes. “I apologize, It’s been.. A while since I’ve been on a date.” He shamefully admits, but you wave him off.  

“It’s not a problem.” You deny. “I don’t go on dates often either.” 

“How come?” He wonders, seeing an opportunity to spark some smalltalk, so he can find out a little more about you.  

“Just.. Not the time. And no partner to go on one with.” You giggle, thanking the waitress for your glass of wine. “I’m usually pretty busy with work.”  

“Work?” He asks, and you nod, your pretty fox ears suddenly standing tall with pride, tail swinging behind you. It’s pretty cute, in his humble opinion.  

“I’m an author!” You beam happily. “I write children’s books, and fantasy novels.” You explain, and Jungkook’s thoughts instantly go back to his daughter, currently in the care of Jimin at his house. Did you write a book she’s seen before?  

“Children’s books?” He wonders, feeling a bit stupid for just asking you, and never giving you anything in return.  

“Yep.” You chirp. “Mostly.. Very simple one’s. Ages 4 to 7.” You explain. “And you? What do you do for a living if I may ask?” You wonder, resting your chin on your hands.  

“I’m.. The vice president of HLC at the moment. Hopefully I might get a promotion at some point.” He chuckles, and your eyes widen.  

“Wow.. That's. Okay, that’s huge.” You laugh a bit uneasy now.  

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He wonders, a bit confused. Both of his ears are up now, his body becoming more and more comfortable with your presence.  

“A little?” You admit. You’re honest, it seems like. He already decides it’s a very positive point. “I feel a little.. Out of your league, so to say.” You say a bit jokingly, taking a sip from your wine. He shakes his head.  

“Don't worry about it.” He denies, reassuring you. “We both have our places in life.”  

“So it seems.” You nod, while you wait for your dinner to be served.  

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

A place Jungkook had not seen you in his life, was beneath him, in his bed.  

But that’s exactly where you’ve ended up, most of your clothes already having been stripped from your bodies, lying somewhere in the bedroom. He honestly blamed his attraction to you on his hormones at first, and the fact that he’d neglected his natural need for physical intimacy for so long due to his single-father situation, but in this moment, he knows that it’s more than just that.  

And that just screams trouble.  

But right now, Jungkook can’t make himself think of anything other than you beneath his hands, skin warm as you push your bare behind right into him. He’d technically wanted to drive you home, a simple act of chivalry since your date had honestly been very nice, but somehow, you ended up agreeing to at least let the night come to an end in a more relaxed atmosphere at his apartment, since you told him that you’ve always dreamed to live in a apartment high up with a view of the city skyline.  

He really just wanted to show you the view. He really doesn’t know when you both started to make out.  

But he knows that it’s something you both clearly want- your hands holding onto his bedsheets almost impatiently, while he’s busy wrapping the condom over his length. If the situation was just a little different, Jungkook could see you both getting along a lot longer than for just this- but he’s got responsibilities, and he can’t just bring someone into his life without thinking about it long enough.  

And also, with his daughter still at such a vulnerable age, there’s just no way she’d accept you. 

Initially, he’d keep it at this. You’re in perfect breeding position, face in the pillows, behind pushed into him- but he has to see you. It’s not some magical connection type of thing, just simple attraction, and maybe, just maybe, his inner need to at least pretend for a moment that he’s just a young guy being together with his girlfriend- even though that’s never going to be the truth.  

Just for a moment, he wants to pretend.  

Just for one night.  

On your end, this is just an adventure you’ve never been on before. Jimin had told you to come out of your shell a little, be a bit wild for once, and meet his best friend who’s got a ‘just as dry’ intimate life as you did. And you can’t deny that this friend- Jungkook- is anything but charming, and attractive. Despite being a prey hybrid, he’s oozing a certain sense of confidence that’s not overbearing, but simply comfortable to be around.  

But all good things must come to an end- and to spare the poor young man the awkwardness, you get up in the middle of the night- early morning, barely three AM.  

Putting on your clothes, and somewhat fixing your hair, you carefully make sure to write a small note to leave on his kitchen table. Your face is already bare, since you both did shower yesterday before going to bed- so you don’t have to worry about that.  

Maybe he’d like to meet you again? Well, you surely left your number on the note for him to reach out to, if he so decides to do so.  

However, just as you try and walk out, you notice something.. Odd.  

A small, childrens-size pale green wintercoat, hanging on the wall next to the entrance. Tiny shoes, green, frog-themed rain boots, and an equally themed little umbrella hanging on the wall as well, next to what you assume must be Jungkook’s clothes. These things clearly belong to a child- and now that you pay more attention to it, you do smell the uniquely scent profile of a kid in the apartment.  

And the scents are too alike to deny that it must be his.  

Panic starts to bubble up inside you. If he has a child, there must be a mother to it as well, right? Maybe not, but the chance is too high for you to really take any chances. Jimin didn’t mention that at all- if he’d told you that this rabbit wanted to cheat and not just ‘go on a date’, you would’ve never agreed to it!  

Did you just become a homewrecker?  

You’re taking a step to take your note with you again, but you instead hear Jungkook move around in his bedroom, sleepily calling out your name- and that makes your instincts go haywire, as you instead basically rip the door open after somewhat slipping into your heels, and fetching your small handbag from the floor near the way too cute rainboots staring at you oh-so innocently.  

The door snaps shut behind you, and you don’t look back as you rush down and into the elevator, leaving the fancy apartment building and this whole mistake behind. 

Already fuming as you call Jimin, uncaring about the time. 

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

“I’m so sorry!” Jimin apologizes to Jungkook, who just sighs as he washes Minji’s plastic dishes in the sink, while the little girl is occupied on the couch, watching her favorite show before bed. “I didn’t think you both would end up here though-” 

“It doesn’t matter anyways.” The young father denies, putting every piece of cutlery on the side to dry later. “It’s not like it would’ve worked out anyways. I just wish she knew that this was just a huge misunderstanding.” He clarifies, turning off the faucet before he grabs a towel to dry the dishes.  

“I tried explaining it to her, really.” Jimin whines, feeling incredibly guilty for screwing this up so badly for his friend. “But she doesn’t believe me at all.” He sighs, sitting down.  

“Like I said, it’s not like it would’ve worked out.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Minji already got nervous when Taehyung dropped her off this morning already just because her scent lingered.” 

“But.. Isn't there, like, any way of getting her used to it?” Jimin wonders. “Like, I swear I’ve seen predator-prey couples with a prey child, and they looked fine to me.”  

“Rare.” Jungkook just shrugs, putting the plastic cutlery and dishes away in their respective places. “It’s really fine. I just hope she doesn’t feel guilty about things, or believes that she was just some sort of.. Body for me to use.” He says, ears low against his head, simply flopping down. It’s obvious that Jungkook is upset about it all. Because from what Jimin had told him, you’d felt horrible, believing that you were some part in him cheating on the mother of his child- unaware that she’s not even in the picture, and hasn’t been for years.  

“I’m gonna try and convince her one way or another.” Jimin sighs. “Really, this is so fucked up. The main reason I tried setting you both up WAS Minji!” He whines to himself, thanking Jungkook for the glass of water he offers him, before the young father sits down across from him at the kitchen table. 

“What do you mean?” He wonders.  

“She loves kids!” The human reveals. “She really does, but she herself can’t have any. Which I think might be why she feels so strongly in this situation.” He explains, making Jungkook sigh.  

Well, that just makes him feel so much worse.  

“There’s got to be a way to make this right somehow.” Jimin complains to himself, while looking over at Minji, who’s busy watching the TV with her favourite plush toy in her lap keeping her company. “I’m really sorry. I thought.. I don’t know. I forgot that because you’re two different hybrids, you might not get along too well..” He says, but Jungkook shakes his head.  

“I.. We got along very well, actually. I really liked her. Or rather, still like her.” He chuckles a bit bitterly to himself. “But I guess finding a partner is out of the question for me, at least until Minnie is a bit older.”  

“A bit older? Jungkook, you said she probably will stay scared of predator hybrids until she’s what? Twelve?” His human friend reminds him.  

“...generally, yeah.” He shrugs.  

“Jungkook, no. That can’t.. I refuse to accept that.” He shakes his head. “I’ll explain it all to her, I promise, and you’ll try and make this work with Minji when the time comes. Please.” Jimin says. “I don’t want to see you so lonely all the time.” 

“I’m not lonely- I have Minji.” Jungkook refuses.  

“You know what I mean.” Jimin presses.  

“...alright.” Jungkook sighs. “If- IF- you somehow work it out with her, and she wants to.. Talk, give her my number. And not the office phone, please.” He runs a hand over his face, before he gets up with his friend to bring him to the door. “But don’t pressure her. If she doesn’t want to see me again, that’s fine too.”  

“I won’t.” Jimin promises. “Promise.” 

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

You’re sitting in front of Jungkook again, in a public cafe, a hot cup of milky coffee in front of you, while he seems equally as nervous with his own iced americano in his hands, fingers tracing the pearling condensation a little.  

“So.” You start, looking at him, nervously licking your lips.  

“So.” He nods. “I have a child.”  

“So I’ve noticed.” You answer him, legs swinging a bit back and forth, due to the chair being a bit too high for you. 

“Her mother.. Left, pretty much a few weeks after she was born.” He explains in a neutral tone, staring down at his beverage. “No one really has an answer why. But she just.. It was as if she was disgusted with her own child, pretty much right after birth.” Jungkook recites the events. “Didn’t want to hold her, got angry when she cried, refused to take care of her. We thought it might just.. Be postpartum depression?” He leans his head to the side a little. “It happens more than one might think, after all. But it never got any better.” He shakes his head. “So.. We decided to split up, and I took care of Minji by myself.” 

“Did she ever.. Maybe reach out?” You wonder, but Jungkook shakes his head.  

“She re-married again. Lives in Italy now, with her new husband and stepchildren.” He chuckles a bit. “I’m happy she’s happy, you know? Just wish it went a little different.” He honestly reveals.  

“How old is Minji?” You wonder, dreading the answer. Because from both the scent and the size of the clothes and shoes in his home, she must be young. 

“She’s three and a half.” He reveals, and both of you become quiet.  

Oh. 

Well, it was nice while it lasted. With his daughter this young, there’s just no way you could ever move forward with your friendship even- considering you’re still a predator hybrid at the end of the day, something that surely will scare the poor little bunny half to death. Why do you always have to get crushes on the worst possible people? 

“Well, I’m sure.. She’s very lucky to have you as a dad.” You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. “And you’ll soon find a proper partner as well. You’re very likable after all.” You praise, praying that he can’t see the way your eyes begin to water.  

“I’m sorry.” He answers, and his voice sounds just as dissappointed as he feels. “I.. Wish we would’ve met under different circumstances.” 

“Then you wouldn’t have Minji.” You deny, spotting two drops of your tears having fallen onto the table. “Sorry, I’m a crybaby...” You say, fetching a tissue from your handbag.  

“We could still try-” He starts, but you shake your head.  

“No, she’s gonna be terrified of me, I don’t wanna scare her.” You refuse, drying your cheeks with a good amount of embarrassment, large fox ears pinned back in shame of it all.  

“Minji is a lot braver than one might think.” Jungkook chuckles, reaching out to help you wipe off your slightly smudged mascara from beneath your eyes. “She just.. She might just be a bit shy. Or very shy, most likely.” He adds, and you giggle a bit.  

“Jungkook.. I’m sorry I’m me.” You say, but he shakes his head, smiling at you.  

“Don’t ever apologize for something like that.”  

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

You decide to meet up again at Jimin’s birthday party- the human having invited you both, and Minji as well for the dinner he’d organized at his favourite restaurant in town. You’ll have the whole venue for yourselves to make it both easier for the staff, and everyone attending.  

Jungkook is nervous in his seat, Minji next to him in her seat, happily coloring in her little book that he brought with him to keep her occupied, different shades of green crayons all over her spot at the table.  

It’s then that the door to the restaurant opens, and you step in, together with Min Yoongi- a coworker and fellow predator hybrid whom you’ve befriended a few years ago, or so Jimin said. The big cat hybrid is apparently a tiger- though his ears and tail aren’t even slightly orange, instead monochrome white and black, his light eyes proving the fact that he’s not a standard.  

But, Jungkook can’t look at him for too long, because he’s too busy blatantly staring at you instead, with your pretty face, dressed up for the occasion. So much so, that Minji has to pull on his sleeve to get his attention back, looking at him before she tilts her head, small bunny ears in between her hair moving on a constant, since so much is going on.  

This will be it. If she gets too scared, he’ll have to go home early- and basically bury his hope of ever building something with you.  

But even though she does seem nervous, she’s not yet scared- instead clinging to her father by instinct, who’s calm, mostly that is. “Come, let’s say hi to everyone, yeah?” He offers her, and she reluctantly gets up with him, clinging to his hand while they both walk towards Yoongi and you, who’s just hanging up your coat.  

“Long time no see.” Jungkook offers Yoongi, who nods and shakes his hand politely, before he leans down to make himself as small as he can, in hopes of maybe getting at least something out of the little girl- but she instead steps behind Jungkook, the predator hybrid too intimidating. “I’m sorry.” 

“Oh don’t be. She grew quite a lot in a year.” Yoongi dismisses, while you reluctantly walk closer, politely moving to shake Jungkook’s hand as well- but the rabbit hybrid instead moves to give you a hug, despite his daughter being so close. And much to your surprise, this action alone seems to spark Minji’s interest- her head poking around Jungkook’s legs, just to look at you curiously, especially your fluffy tail that’s nervously swaying from side to side behind you.  

“Say hello, Minji.” Jungkook urges her, but as if snapped out from her trance, she shakes her head, instead running back to her seat at the table where she picks up her crayons once more.  

“She’s cute.” You say, earning Jungkook’s attention back. “Looks.. A lot like you.” You mention, and he nods.  

“I know. A lot of people tell me she’s like.. A mini-version of me.” He chuckles, walking towards his own spot next to his daughter. “Do you.. Want to sit next to me?” He wonders, and you nod, accepting happily. Sitting next to him will get Minji used to your scent, while also putting a safety barrier between her and him, so she can figure you out from afar.  

Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.  

Something you’re very much surprised about, is that throughout the entire evening, the little hybrid girl does not seem to complain whatsoever. Not once does she get fidgety, or whiny about sitting in one spot for too long- and once she does, Jungkook is quick and skilled in handling her well, calming her down or occupying her attention for a moment.  

Though, at some point, she does get up and roam around a little, under the watchful eye of her father of course.  

You’re currently talking to Jungkook about your work, when you notice something on your tail, one slight look from you revealing that it’s the little girl, carefully running her small hands over the fur, interest too great to really let her inner fear control her. You know she’s on high alert- ears standing tall and completely turned towards you, motions freezing entirely when she notices that you’ve noticed her.  

Jungkook smiles at his daughter. “It’s pretty, hm?” He asks her, and nods, before she reaches out to have him pick her up and sit her on his lap, where she stares at you, now a lot more bold in the arms of her father. She’s visibly taking your entire appearance in, before she looks at Jungkook again, attempting to pull one of his jet-black rabbit ears, making him laugh and gently prevent her from doing so. “What do you want with dad’s ears, huh?” He jokingly scolds. “You’ve got your own, right there!” He reminds her, gently pulling her own equally dark ears, which makes her laugh.  

You can’t help but smile fondly at the interaction.  

That is until suddenly, the little girl boldly reaches out for your ears now- something that makes you both surprised and excited- your head leaning closer so she can clumsily grab at your ears, laughing most likely at how soft they are. It clearly makes Jungkook hopeful, his own tail wiggling around without his own knowledge as he watches the short but warm interaction with you two.  

It’s obvious that while Jungkook is around, she feels comfortable and safe enough to interact with you- but as soon as his attention is somewhere else, she becomes more withdrawn and suspicious again, which is natural. But the fact that she’s not panicking at least, is already a great sign.  

Maybe there’s a chance.  

Maybe this could really work.  

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

[theemporium]

[1.6k] sick of their lovesick friend crushing on you, remus and sirius take it upon themselves to give james the boost he needs to talk to you. it doesn’t quite work out the way they planned.

. 

It wasn’t meant to happen like this.

Or, to accurately rephrase that, it wasn’t meant to be this fucking intense. 

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were nothing but good friends. They were there when you needed someone to listen, they were there to offer advice, they were there to make you laugh when all you really needed was a distraction. 

They were good friends. 

But even this was pushing their limits. 

It was no surprise to anyone at Hogwarts that James Potter fell hard and fast. It may not happen often as people like to make it out to be, but the second that boy sets his eyes on someone, he’s a goner. And there’s no one better than his friends to know that. 

They had seen it with crushes over the last few years, but none of them hit the boy as hard as you did. 

One snarky comment, a broom race and one infirmary  visit later, and James Potter was completely besotted by you. 

And as his best friends, Remus and Sirius had been subjected to far too many rambles the bespectacled boy had given over the months since he first laid his eyes on you. 

But even they had their limits and their patience was quickly running out. That’s why they had a plan, a simple plan. It was honestly the simplest of plans where nothing could go wrong. 

Or at least, that’s what they had thought. 

The main problem was that for all he was confident and arrogant and loud, James Potter seemed to lose all confidence and suave when he was around you. The boy got flustered and stumbled on his words and struggled to even say anything remotely impressive, and it was a disheartening sight to see. 

So when Remus suggested a simple confidence boosting potion from the alchemy in Hogsmeade, the plan was set in stone. They’d sneak him the potion, convince him to ask you out and the rest would be history. 

The task to acquire the potion was left to Sirius considering Remus had prefect rounds and would be unable to get the potion himself. But Sirius didn’t think some measly potion from Hogsmeade would be enough, so he didn’t see the big deal in grabbing one from his family’s favourite upend alchemy instead. 

As it turns out, it was a very big deal. 

Not only were the potions stronger, but they were laced with extra festive elements for witches and wizards who were stupid enough to buy potions during holidays. 

And this confidence potion was laced with a very, very strong love potion—-in celebration of Valentines Day. 

“What the fuck did you buy?!” 

“The man in the store said it would enhance!” 

“Enhance what? His bloody insanity?!” 

“Stop yelling at me, Moony, I am sensitive!” 

Both boys stared at their friend who sat on the bed in front of them, a cheesy grin on his face and his tousled hair falling into his eyes. They thought it would be easiest to slip in the potion in the morning, just before they headed down for breakfast. 

Now, they realised, it would probably be best if they hadn’t given him the potion at all. 

James Potter sat on his bed, a badly drawn picture of you that was no better than a stickman on a piece of parchment in his hand as he sighed hopelessly. 

“She’s so pretty,” James murmured happily. 

“That’s a bit of ink and paper, mate,” Sirius replied, looking at James with the caution one would have for a wild beast. 

“She’s even pretty when she’s a drawing,” James continued as he lifted his head to look at his friends. “Don’t you think?” 

“Uh, sure,” Remus murmured, unsure if disagreeing with a lovesick fool would be the best course of action. He turned to look at Sirius, a glimmer of annoyance in his gaze. “We can’t let him leave this room when he is acting like…that.”  

“He will be fine, Moony,” Sirius scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. “It’s barely noticeable anyways.” 

Remus raised his brows. “Oh really?”

“Hey, buddy, how ya feeling?” Sirius asked as he turned back to James. 

James jumped onto his feet, puffing his chest out. “I feel like I wanna sing to the world how much I love my girl—“ 

“Yeah, okay, maybe he’s not ready to leave the room just yet.” 

Remus let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I’m gonna go down and grab us some food and possibly some books from the library that can help us…reverse whatever this is,” he announced as he turned back to Sirius and fitted him with a glare. “Keep an eye on him, and do not let him leave.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Aye, aye, captain.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“I thought I was Sirius.” 

“I swear to Merlin—“ 

“I promise, I promise!” Sirius eventually sighed and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Now go, before Prongs starts spouting sonnets and you start correcting him.” 

It didn’t sit well with Remus has he quickly exited the Gryffindor common room, heading into the halls of the school and making his way down to the Great Hall. Leaving Sirius in charge of a very…odd James was not reassuring in the slightest, but at this point they had little choice in the matter. They needed to get this sorted out and get it sorted out soon without alarming any of the teachers. 

Or worse, James’ mother. 

Remus suppressed his shudder as he made his way through the throng of students, heading towards the Gryffindor table so he could grab some food for the lot of them and make a quick escape. 

However, the boy failed to notice the group sitting just a few feet away from him. 

“Remus, hey!” 

Remus froze, a piece of toast hanging between his fingers before he turned his head to the left, giving you what he hoped was a casual smile—although it looked more like a grimace. 

“Hey,” he answered lamely. 

“You’re late this morning,” you joked lightly, your attention purely on the boy. You stretched your neck to try and catch a glimpse of his friends but he was alone. “Hey, where’s—”

“James is sick!” Remus blurted out and watched as you frowned in concern. “Not like, deathly sick. But just enough for him to stay in bed for the day.” 

“Oh,” you murmured and the disappointment was clear in your voice. “Is there anything I can do to help? I have some potions my mum gave me—“ 

“No, no,” Remus waved you off. “Potions can’t fix this.” 

But that only seemed to deepen your worries. “Remus, are you sure he’s okay?” 

However, before Remus could even open his mouth to spout another lie, another voice yelled through the hallway just outside the Great Hall. 

“OH TREASURE OF MY HEART!” 

Remus closed his eyes. “Fuck.” 

“OH DARLING APPLE OF MY EYE!” 

“He had one fucking job,” Remus muttered to himself. “One. Fucking. Job.” 

“WHERE IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE?!” 

Your wide eyes met Remus’. “Is that—” 

Just then a figure came bursting through the entrance of the Great Hall, standing in nothing but socks, a pair of boxers and a white shirt. But James Potter didn’t care about the gasps or gawking eyes, he was looking for one person—you. 

“My love!” His eyes brightened as he spotted you on the table and quickly began making his way over to you. 

Not even seconds later, Sirius came running after him as he panted heavily. “Fucking…prick…hexed me.” 

Remus would’ve snorted if James approaching you wasn't the priority. 

Your eyebrows furrowed together as a partially dressed James kneeled down in front of you. “James—”

“Love of my life, you look absolutely stunning today, it wounds me!” James sighed dramatically as he reached to take your hands in his, pressing kisses on the back of each knuckle. 

“I wound you?” you murmured as the boy looked up at you with wide eyes. 

“Don’t you know, darling? It wounds me to even be apart from you!” James exclaimed. 

“Okay, buddy, how about we head back to the dorm?” Remus murmured as he tried to pull James up, but his hands were quickly batted away. 

“Leave me alone, Moony, you are getting in the way of true love!” 

“True love?” you repeated, biting back the smile growing on your lips. You were still very confused, but at least you were amused. 

“The truest!” James said as he looked you in the eyes before taking a deep breath. “Oh darling, do me the pleasure of becoming Mrs Potter—“ 

“OKAY!” Remus clapped his hands together, finally pulling James away from you as Sirius cackled beside him. 

“You’ve ruined my proposal, Moony!” James whined. “You’re officially taken off the best man list.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Remus muttered before flashing you a sheepish smile. “Just…pretend this never happened.” 

Before Remus could make proper move of herding a boisterous James out of the Great Hall and back towards the Gryffindor dormitories, you were out of your seat and chasing after them. 

“James!” 

His head quickly snapped around, big eyes finding yours as his face split into a grin. “Yes, my love?”

You stopped when you stood in front of them, your chest moving up and down quickly and your heart thundering in your chest, but it was too late now. 

Before you could second guess yourself, you leaned forward and grabbed his face in your hands, pressing a kiss on his lips before pulling back. 

“Come find me when you’re…better.”

James didn’t even get the chance to reply as you quickly skidded off, his lips parted in shock and his cheeks burning a bright pink as he aimlessly stared at the spot where you stood moments ago. 

“Moony?” 

“Yeah, Prongs?” 

“Did that really happen?” 

“Yeah it did, mate.” 

“Right…great…catch me, mate.” 

Remus opened his mouth to reply but James’ body had already sagged against his, the boy’s eyes now closed and he couldn’t help but let out a snort as he heaved the unconscious boy’s arms around his neck. 

“I better be your fucking best man now.” 

“Hey!” 

“Shut up, Pads and carry the croissants.”

.

#james potter #marauders #harry potter #hp #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fic #james potter one shot #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #marauders fic #marauders one shot #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter fic #harry potter oneshot #hp x reader #hp x you #hp x y/n #hp fic #hp one shot

[iwoulddieforienzo]

Something I really appreciate about TOA that I don’t see get talked about much is that I never get the sense that Apollo finds Lester ugly.

For all that he complains about the body he’s stuck in, I never got the feeling that it came from a distaste for Lester himself. When he sees Lester’s traits reflected in others, like Meg being chunky, he is completely unaffected by it. Finds it charming, even. (In fact, the only times I can remember him having Opinions about how someone looks is when they’ve chosen something about their appearance that he either approves or disapproves of, like a tacky jacket/hair cut or when he finds someone attractive. The only time I can remember him calling anybody ugly was when he pointed out that Dionysus was choosing to look as ugly as possible to piss of Zeus, which is a statement of fact and doesn’t necessarily mean he thinks that Dionysus’ form is actually ugly. He makes no mention of finding it so before or after that line. It’s a statement of fact that Dionysus is choosing a form that either he or Zeus finds ugly to piss of their dad.)

The thing about Lester is that he is so devastatingly mortal. He has flab and acne and no upper body strength and his voice squeaks when he’s nervous and he sweats a lot and he has a silly name and messy, curly hair that’s impossible to tame. He is the Most Teenager To Ever. There is no godly blood running through his veins, no powers he can call upon. If Apollo were to run into him in the street, I don’t think he’d pay him much mind. He’d probably just think, “sweet kid”, and move on. If he got to know him, I think Apollo would adore him because that’s just who rrverse!Apollo is. He loves mortals despite himself, flaws and all. He’d argue against anything bad Lester had to say about his own appearance and mean every word.

The problem is that it’s Apollo in this body. Apollo, The Golden Child, the perfect son, a God. His distaste for this body is because Lester is so devastatingly mortal and imperfect. Apollo has to be perfect, he has to be shiny and pretty and strong because he has nothing else to offer otherwise.

And.. I dunno, there’s something about Apollo hating the things that draw him to others when it’s him. The flaws that he tears apart in himself he finds endlessly charming on others, or he thinks that they have better reasons for why they have them, or he thinks they have enough positive traits to counteract them. The positive things that he hides deep enough that even the reader can’t see right away, like his kindness and genuine desire to understand and connect with everyone around him, that he’s shocked to find directed at him in turn.

That Apollo accepting himself and reclaiming his personhood leads to him being comfortable with being Lester, imperfect and mortal as he is. That he takes that imperfection back with him to Olympus… I dunno man I’m Emotional. Also it’s just plain nice that Lester is never treated as ugly for looking like a normal ass teenager, even by the guy stuck in this body. That’s neat.

Or maybe I’m just rambling and this means nothing at all and I’m reading too far into Blorbo from my books.

#DOES THIS MAKE SENSE. is this too rambly. AUGH. #words machine ALWAYS broke and I forget everything I’m trying to say the moment I try to write or type it out #which results in long ass posts like this. this could’ve been 3 sentences probably #TOA #trials of Apollo #rrverse!apollo #lester papadopoulos #snack time #should I tag this as meta?? I dunno