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#I wasn't sure to continue this one to be honest
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LMAO
That one post about sitting on his lap during a study session is great
I kinda want to ask about the others reactions.
Ahh but not sure who. I feel like there's three major camps of
1) flustered as fuck, doesn't do much else
-riddle, Sebek, deuce, jack, azul, jamil*, epel*, ruggie*, Idia
2) his ass is NOT studying, he's doing whatever's happening now
-ace*, floyd, Lilia, Malleus, kalim, rook*, epel*, ruggie*
3) continues session, tries to turn this on you/maximum flirting to see who furthers this
-Vil, Leona, Rook*, Jade, Jamil*, ace*
* the caveats for some
Jamil's reaction depends on where you are (library, study hall, his room etc) and he's way more likely to just fluster if he's in a more public setting- regardless if you have chosen a more secluded corner- but if he's somewhere where he feels more free and more hidden he's gonna do his best to flirt and be suave. He flusters way more with honest and genuine direct affection otherwise he wins out in patience and subtlety in flirting in the "study" session
Epel is flustered as fuck, also really proud and smug. He's distracted yes but depending on your actions such as promising rewards for finishing study session or going further or even just doing nothing which might confuse him then he'll either continue studying and be flustered or go along with your lead
Ruggie is flustered and might freeze up, he's not studying, he's busy trying to keep his heart from exploding at the close contact. He doesn't know what to do, will follow your lead though. If you just continue studying then you just have a free yeen seat
Ace is NOT focusing-probably wasn't really studying in the first place though that's due to having a one on one session with you- and his thing is that he is way more focused on where this is going, he's nervous about messing up and he's also trying to act like he's studying while trying to see where this goes. He is not very subtle or good at the act, he's very flustered but he's not in the same category as the others because he's more so distracted and trying to do something​.
Rook is no longer focused on studying. It's kind of a toss up of whether he'll put all his focus on you in his arms or if he'll play pretend and try to get you to fluster. Either way, you're in for a time.
Ahhhhh want to get details but brain going, would love further additions
One of the things I think of when it comes to lap sitting is the irony of a human sitting on the lap of a beastmen and I wonder if they think about it too.
Plus, with them in particular the urge to sniff, bite, nuzzle, and lick is very strong. Especially if they have a clear view of the back of your neck and shoulders. Leona says he wants you to sit in front of him in class, so he doesn't get caught napping, but we all know the true reason.
Nibblers/Biters include but are not limited to: Malleus, Idia, (once he gets over some of his anxiety about using his teeth on you) Leona, Jade, Floyd, Ruggie, Jack, Lilia, Sebek, Ace, Rook.
Leona and Silver would likely fall asleep on you. Which sounds cute but they're both solid and heavy so you're gonna get squished when he clonks out and puts all his weight on you.
Funny thing for the guys that get flustered, once they get more used to it, it ends up just being a normal thing and he doesn't like studying without you being close like that.
It helps Riddle destress while he still gets work done and helps Jack ease that separation anxiety he gets after you guys become a couple.
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lemoncrushh · 7 hours
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You're Never This Quiet
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Summary: Harry has been quiet all evening and you wonder why.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1330
A/N: From my 2016 collection, based on a prompt given. Fluffy reader fic with a little bit of trepidation in the beginning.
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You and Harry had been dating for two years. Actually, by this point, to say you were "dating" sounded a little silly and juvenile. You were in love. Simple as that. The way he treated you was the way you wanted to be treated, and you gave it back to him tenfold. Sure, it wasn't always easy. You'd had a few bumps in the road, some twists and turns. But to look back at your time together made you burst with pride. Nowadays, any celebrity romance that lasted more than a few months was not only shocking but commendable.
Tonight, you and Harry had gone to a party in Malibu. It was a casual affair on the beach, and like at most parties, you mingled with others throughout the evening, some people you knew, some you were meeting for the first time, but you always managed to circle back to each other. Harry would pull you close, kissing the top of your head before returning to his previous conversation, or perhaps walk with you to a nearby bar to get a refill on drinks.
This time, however, you noticed something different about him. Harry was never really one to stand still, always fidgeting if he wasn't chatting or telling a silly joke. Even if he was being affectionate with you, he wouldn't be serious for long before doing something like tickling you or commenting to others about how great you are. Tonight, he wasn't doing any of those things. Tonight, he was almost...quiet.
You watched him from across the room as he sat in the middle of a semi-circle sofa. For once he wasn't the center of attention. He sipped on his drink and nodded a few times, but you barely even saw his mouth move. A couple times you even saw him rub one of his palms down the leg of his jeans before switching his glass to his other hand and repeating. It was a little disconcerting to be honest, and you felt your stomach tighten. Someone said something to you, but you barely heard. Instead, you smiled politely and excused yourself.
"Hey," you whispered in his ear from behind the couch.
Harry nearly jumped up from his seat before turning to look at you.
"Oh, hey," he grinned when he realized it was you. "Come 'ere."
He gestured with his hand for you to sit next to him. You walked around the sofa and squeezed in. He gently took your hand and threaded his fingers through yours, making you feel a little more at ease. But you were still a little concerned.
"You okay?" you asked.
Harry nodded, giving your hand a little squeeze. But the fact that he swallowed hard was not lost on you. You knew something was up.
You continued sitting with him until his glass was empty and he set it down on the coffee table in front you. When he sat back and ran a hand through his hair, he leaned toward you to whisper.
"Wanna go for a walk?"
"Sure," you nodded apprehensively.
You knew your eyes had to be big as saucers and your heart was just about beating out of your chest as you followed him outside to the large deck. The summer wind hit you in the face, the temperature warm even in the late hour.
Heading toward the edge of the deck, you were surprised when Harry took the stairs and stopped at the bottom one.
"We're going on the beach?" you questioned as you saw him take off his shoes.
"Yeah," he replied, trying to roll up his jeans. "Although I probably shouldn't have worn these."
You giggled lightly, feeling odd that this was the first sign of humor he'd shown all night. You slipped off your own shoes, grateful to be wearing a sundress, and took his awaiting hand before stepping out onto the warm sand.
You cringed slightly at the sensation of sand between your toes. You waited for Harry to say something, expecting to hear his usual comedic comments, but still he remained silent. As you got closer to the ocean and the sand became more compact, you gingerly swung your connected hands between you, hoping to lighten the mood. When Harry looked at you and smiled, you felt your heart flutter.
"I love you," you declared bravely. It was something you said regularly now, but somehow his reserved personality tonight made you a little afraid to say it out loud.
"I love you, too," he echoed.
If Harry heard the loud breath you exhaled, he didn't acknowledge it. You continued to walk together in silence, sans for the crashing waves and the wind in your ears. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer.
"Is something wrong, Harry?" you inquired.
"No...why?"
"You've been pretty quiet this evening," you commented.
There was a slight pause before Harry said, "I have?"
You stopped walking then, releasing your hand from his.
"You're never this quiet, what's wrong?"
Harry turned to look at you, a mixture of worry and confusion on his face.
"Nothing's wrong," he blinked.
"Yes there is," you nearly choked. "C'mon, Harry. We've been together for two years. I know you. Something's up."
Harry bowed his head and ran his hand over his face.
"Yeah, it has been two years," he agreed.
You narrowed your eyes, now confused yourself, and also more worried than ever. Your stomach was now doing somersaults, and you swallowed and wrapped your arms around your middle to try to settle it.
"I...uh...was..." Harry took a deep breath, "trying to decide the right time to do this."
"To do what?"
You watched as Harry shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled something out, though you couldn't quite see what it was. But when he knelt down in front of you in the sand, taking your hand in his, you had to cover your mouth with the other to block the scream that was rising in your throat.
"[Y/N]," he said loud and clear, "I'm sorry I've been such a dope today."
He chuckled lightly, shaking his head.
"I'm so fucking nervous," he muttered before clearing his throat. "My love, will you marry me?"
That was when you saw the ring in his other hand as he held it up. It glistened in the moonlight, reflecting the colors of the night sky and the water.
"Harry!" you barely got out as the tears were already welling up in your eyes. "Oh my God!"
"Is that a yes?" he asked.
You half laughed, half cried. "Oh my God, yes!"
Harry grinned as he swiftly slid the ring onto your finger, giving it a kiss. Then he stood up, taking your face in his hands and kissing your lips.
"I'll make you so happy," he promised, his eyes twinkling.
"I know, baby," you nodded. "You already do."
He kissed you again, this time deeper and longer. Your fingers tangled in the back of his hair as you tried to get as close to him as possible.
"I love you so much," you murmured against his mouth.
After holding each other for a while, and much more kissing, you both decided to ditch the rest of the party. Instead, you continued to walk down the beach, hand in hand, as a newly engaged couple. The idea made you giddy when you thought of it.
When Harry suggested you walk up the beach and sit down for a while, you eagerly agreed. He put his arm around you, and you leaned into him, draping your arm around his bent knee.
"Sorry about your jeans," you said as you felt the wetness from the sand.
"What?" he wondered before realizing what you were talking about. "Oh," he laughed. "It was totally worth it."
You smiled as he nuzzled your neck.
"I'm sorry I was being so quiet," he added.
"It's okay," you assured him. "That was totally worth it, too."
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MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK
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hello my spooky lovelies! 🦇🎃
sorry to pop in again so soon with a "from the desk of the curator" post, but I just wanted to express how absolutely thrilled I am about how excited and engaged everyone has been with the tournament!! 🥰🥰 (even though I know it's just the first day 😅)
to be honest with you, I was slightly fearful that it would kind of flop since it's not something I've ever done on the blog before, and I wasn't sure if y'all would like it, so I'm just really happy that so many people seem to really be having fun with it! 🥰🥰
also I am LOVING the "propaganda" and reasoning/arguments that folks are posting in their tags, and I am reading all of it! and let me tell you, some of y'all are incredibly persuasive, since I was actually convinced to change my vote on one of the polls because of reading the tags before voting ☺️💕
anyway, this is mostly just me expressing my gratitude for your continued enthusiasm and support for the blog – it truly means so much to me! 🥰☺️🥰☺️
with so much gratitude,
the curator 🪶🩸
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softquietsteadylove · 10 months
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Baby olympia stole my hearth, their little family is soo cute 🥹, if it's okay with you love, could you do one where Thena is doing something with baby olympia like feeding her or dressing her (in a super cute outfit 'cause thena is a fashion icon) and Gil is watching them, falling more in love with his girls, feeling grateful that he came back to Thena and that their little her was born. Just Gil being soft for his girls. 🩷
Gil keeps an eye on them - his girls - in the corner of the room.
Thena calls it 'feeding', which it is in some ways. She sits in the rocking chair Phastos constructed for them, and she holds Olympia, and both of them enter a dreamlike state as Cosmic Energy slowly leaves Thena and is absorbed by their little supernova.
Their little miracle--Gil still can't believe it.
He can't even believe that he's alive, for starters. His last memory is of him on his back on the amazon forest floor, looking up at Thena (much to her dismay). But he remembers she was smiling until the moment he closed his eyes.
Next thing he knows, he's alive again, Sersi has saved the world, there's a Celestial sticking out of the ocean and he and Thena have catching up to do. And then Thena is pregnant.
No one saw it coming, of course. No one could have. They all thought of Ajak often during the process of it all, but they were on their own for it. Thank all the stars in the sky for Sersi, and Phastos. All their siblings, of course.
Druig and Sprite are most wary of the baby, no matter how they love her. Sprite excels at entertaining young Olympia, if nothing else. She does seem amused by Druig, as if his constantly reading her young mind has established a somewhat two-way connection.
Kingo says he doesn't like that, because he should be her favourite. He and Phastos argue on that often. But, although Makkari bouncing and jogging her (gently!) around the Domo is fun for them both, Sersi is of course Thena's chosen second mother for their child.
And there could be no better, he agrees. Sersi has always been the most human, and the most connected to the ways of the heart. She's sweet, and warm, and has an awareness of the soul that none of the rest of them possess.
Gil admits this freely; he has only one soul to which his is linked.
It's strange to think that his wife has now lived part of her life without him, and yet to him he has spent not even a day without her. But he can see how she's worn out by what she's endured. He wishes he could take it on for her; it's not fair.
Gil walks into their shared room. It's still just his personal quarters in the Domo--far from luxurious. Phastos did do them the kindness of engineering an expansion, just into the next room, but the extra space was still appreciated.
There is also a small crib for Olympia, mere steps away from the bed.
He chuckles, looking at the little mobile above it. It's a simple thing, but Thena did whittle and paint it herself. There are dinosaurs and pegasi and also regular birds. A whole history's worth of creatures.
They all guessed he would be the one who would be unable to bear being away from Olympia. And they are right, but it's Thena who has the most acute anxiety about it.
Only by his and Sersi's convincing did she allow them to install the crib at all. If it were up to Thena, she would be holding their child in her arms until the day she was Sprite's height.
Gil kneels down in front of his beautiful girls. Olympia is sleeping soundly, absorbing little dewdrops of Cosmic Energy from her mother like a meadow receives the rain. Sersi reasons that human children often need extra vitamins and nutrients besides in just their food; perhaps this is the same.
He brushes his fingers over his daughter's tiny head; she really does look like a tiny Thena, although he thinks her hair is getting a little darker just at the roots. He kisses her little forehead. She scrunches her face. "I'm sorry, my little sunburst."
"You're here."
He smiles up at his wife, her enchanting green eyes affixed to him. She looks even more stunning since bringing Olympia into the world. "I'm here."
It's become a kind of greeting for them. Thena will voice those words as if one day he won't affirm them. But he has no right to worry about that when it's very possible that she has experienced that in some form or another.
He leans up, capturing her lips against his tenderly.
Thena sighs as they part, her head tilting lazily as she relaxes that last little bit. Her eyes shine at him, "she's strong."
The connection between Warrior Eternal and her progeny is one that brings tears to his eyes. He moves the back of his knuckle against his daughter's cheek, "I know. Look who her mother is."
Thena lets him kiss her cheek with reverence. "To say nothing of her father. Two of the galaxy's deadliest--she will be a force to be reckoned with."
"She," Gilgamesh pats the soft of his palm against Olympia's head, "will never have to know battle, so long as we live."
"Yes," Thena sighs, letting herself believe his reassurance. She inhales, adjusting her arms, "here."
It's a simple thing, but it moves him that she trusts him so completely with their daughter. Of course she does, he is her father. But he knows Thena--knows the way she twitches and flinches and watches. She is made to be vigilant, after all, and even with their own family, she is always keenly aware of their daughter's whereabouts.
But with him, she hands her over. Thena has no question about his ability to prioritise and protect their child.
He makes room as she stands from the chair. She wobbles faintly and he moves so she can lean into his side. "Easy."
He isn't entirely sure what takes place during the 'feedings'. Because he also makes her regular old milk and feeds that to her. But Phastos and Druig alike cannot fathom what takes place between mother and child and their connection of energy.
Thena nuzzles her face into his shoulder.
"You're tired," he chuckles, holding their daughter in one arm and his wife in the other. "Nap with me."
Thena mumbles faintly. And while he doesn't hear it, he knows it's because she wants them to have Olympia in the bed in between them, instead of in the crib.
"We talked about this," he reminds her as he oh-so gently lays Olympia down on the little cot within the high walls. "You trust Sersi."
"Of course I trust Sersi," she grumbles, as if she is not grinding her teeth in her head to distract from her separation anxiety.
"She needs to learn to sleep on her own," he says gently, pulling Thena with him to the bed. "You can't hold her forever, sweetheart."
"We live forever."
He chuckles, careful not to be too loud with his little sunflower in the room. But he tucks some of Thena's hair away from her face and kisses the corner of her amazing lips. "As will she. And that's a long time for her to sleep in her own bedroom."
He can practically hear his wife's feelings about their infant daughter sleeping in a completely separate room. He presses his nose to the sculpted hollow of her cheek. "I will want you all to myself again someday, you know."
That makes her smile. She laughs faintly as he kisses her cheek and pulls them to lie down together. She settles into his chest, his arms wrapped around her, their daughter's tiny breaths reaching their inhuman ears. "You have your priorities I see."
"I do," he answers honestly, rubbing Thena's back and burying his nose in the hair at the top of her head. "It's my two girls, always. My new little star and the sun of my galaxy."
"Hm," Thena allows him to relish the contact with her. "I shall pretend that's sweet, instead of you being eager to bed me again."
"I can be a sweet and loving father, and also your husband, y'know."
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luxaofhesperides · 2 months
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the beginning - danny
0.
The Lazarus Pit brings Danny back.
The child who went into them, however, is gone forever.
Danyal al Ghul is the soul who should reside in this body. Danyal has a life still to live and Danny died ages ago, old and surrounded by loved ones, ready to spend the rest of his forever in the Infinite Realms.
Something's gone terrible wrong, he thinks rather wryly, squinting through the cold green water that surrounds him. An ache echoes through his body and he brings a hand—small, a child's hand that shouldn't belong to him— to his stomach, where he can feel a large wound slowly pull itself together.
Did I get stabbed?
He means to continue the thought, but a sharp pain hits his head, making him curl up. He gasps and air bursts from his lungs, water rushing to fill in the empty space. Danny chokes, panicking, as memories slide into place, the lives of Danyal al Ghul and Danny Fenton fighting for dominance in his head. His lungs burn, throat working futilely to push water out, but there's nothing to be done.
Danny is a child again, and just like last time, he dies young.
1. So.
Assassins.
Danny honestly can't tell if this is a step up or a step down from mad scientist parents. On the one hand: he knows they loved him, as clumsy as it was, even though they loved their work more. On the other hand: assassin cult sounds like something out of a fairy tale, and while cool, is definitely not safe for kids.
And Danny, somehow, is a child again.
This really wasn't what he expected when he woke up on the sandy bottom of the pit. He's in ghost form, which is an unpleasant shock, but at least its familiar.
He is also, if his memory as Danyal serves him correctly, nine years old.
Kinda sucks that he died so young this time round. Didn't even make it to the double digits before he was taken out of the running.
He can't remember what it was like being so small in his last life. He can't imagine how anyone would look at a child and run them through with a sword. It's a cruel world he's woken up in. It's made worse by the fact that he's alone.
At least being down here without needing to breathe is giving him valuable time to think.
Danny has lived a full life already. He didn't really need or want another one, content to be a full ghost in the Infinite Realms. But going back isn't really an option, now that he's in a new body. The kid he could have been deserves to live fully, and the least Danny can do is live that life for them.
It'll be hard, but Danny's sure he can manage a decent life for himself.
Being presumed dead will make his escape from the assassins easier, though he'll miss getting the chance to meet his new mother; assassin as she is, Danyal knows her not by her blades but by her soft lullabies and jasmine-scented hair. The loss of her child must be hurting her deeply, but it's necessary. If Danny wants any semblance of a normal life, he has to leave her behind.
Besides, he's seen enough death. He doesn't want to ever be the cause of it.
So, he needs a plan for this new life.
Step one: get out of dodge.
The rest he'll figure out on the way.
2.
Turns out assassins weren't the most shocking thing in this new life.
No, that honor goes to superheroes.
Genuine, honest to God superheroes! With powers and everything!
To think that Danny once called himself a superhero. Ha! As if! He's nothing compared to the likes of Superman or the Flash or even Green Lantern. They're in another league. Literally. They're part of the Justice League, which has a whole slew of other heroes, and Danny is possibly their biggest fan.
Not like that's weird; most people in this world are huge fans of superheroes. Makes sense, since they're the ones who rely on their protection the most.
It does suck to know that his background belongs to that of a villain. Assassins aren't known for saving people, after all.
Part of him contemplates becoming a hero again, taking up the role of Phantom and joining the ranks of Superman. But he's had many years to come to terms with the loss of his teenage years and the bitterness that came with it. That experience, that life once lived, helps him decide each time that being a civilian is the gift this life owes him.
At thirteen, Danny lives in a foster home with six other kids. He's the oldest and has his hands full taking care of everyone else while their foster parents work three jobs between them to keep them all afloat.
When his younger siblings play superheroes, he gladly takes the role of the villain, swooping in with a blanket to kidnap away an innocent bystander that has to be rescued. He falls over dramatically at the end of each fight and praises his siblings' strength and teamwork, making them puff up with pride.
It's all fun and games so long as it only stays fun and games.
Superpowers are cool and all, but his came at the cost of his life, his health, his future. He knows, better than anyone, the price of being a hero. He knows that even Superman carries heavy losses on his shoulders, struggles under burdens no one can see.
He's lucky that the small town he ended up in—Luray, Virginia—has no heroes or villains. Too small a place to be on anyone's radar, apparently.
His classmates often complain about how they wish they could live in a big city where there's more to do, more to see, superheroes flying through the streets to protect them.
Danny is happy where he is. It's quiet, and small, and nothing like what he's used to, but it's safe.
That's all he really wants.
3.
Here's something that stays the same no matter what world he's in: Danny is a magnet for trouble.
If the trouble stopped at bullies, everything would have been fine. Danny could handle Dash, and he could handle Justin just as easily.
But the universe loves to escalate with Danny, specifically, which is why Danny had to reveal his powers when some villain-wannabe school shooter attacked his high school.
And to think he felt bad for Jackson when he didn't make it onto the track team.
Luray does not have a meta population. They're too small to have much of a population at all, and much of it is white which made him, half-Iranian, stand out even before he threw out a barrier of ice to protect his classmates a second before the gunfire began.
"Danny?!" his seatmate, Clarrissa, cries out in alarm.
"Everyone get out the window and run for it!" he orders, "I hold him back as much as I can!"
"You can't stay here!"
"Don't worry," Danny says, offering her a tight smile. "He couldn't kill me even if he tried. Now go!"
His classmates hadn't wasted any more time, sending him shocked looks as they escaped the classroom. A glimpse of his reflection in the window revealed glowing green eyes and blue mist wafting out of his mouth.
Looks like his time in Luray is up. He hopes his foster siblings won't be too mad at him for running away.
The gunfire stops, and Danny takes his chance to leap through his ice, intangible, and tackle Jackson, easily knocking the gun away from him.
"Monster!" Jackson spits at him, and Danny laughs.
"Bold of you to say that. I'm not to one trying to kill people."
He doesn't want to hear anything else that comes out of Jackson's mouth, so he knocks the guy out with a solid hit to a pressure point on his neck. Hopefully that'll keep him down long enough for the cops to get him.
Danny stands and means to leave, but something hits the back of his head hard and he's out before he realizes what's happened.
When he wakes up, he's strapped down to a table in what is undeniably a lab, and sighs.
At least he made it to sixteen before he went into another lab. Maybe in his next life he might even get all the way up to twenty before he's pulled back down here.
4. Though he has all his powers and a ghost form, that doesn't mean he is a ghost in this life.
No, he's fully a meta, which means meta-suppressing cuffs work on him.
It's not exactly a discovery he was hoping to have while locked up in a lab, but it's what he's got, so he has to roll with it. The cuffs are heavy on his wrists and around his throat, keeping him from escaping as a group of people in masks and lab coats bustle around, ignoring him.
His head is still foggy, though likely more from the drugs than the hit he took to his head.
He doesn't bothering talking to any of them; they don't see him as human, and Danny's dealt with enough of that in his past life.
Mad scientists love to talk though, so he still hears the gist of their plans: recreating the meta gene for normal people, making a profit from selling powers, getting rich and famous from their accomplishments. They had been using Jackson to get corpses for human testing, but they got Danny instead — someone they can harvest bio material for, a much better find than a couple dead kids.
If he had the energy to rage, Danny would have killed everyone in the room already. They planned to kill his classmates just for test subjects.
He doesn't want to be an assassin, but he'd gladly lean into those old lessons to make sure they never hurt anyone again.
But the cuffs and drugs do a good job of keeping him docile, barely able to think, as they transport him around to different locations and cut him open.
He's not sure how long it's been when they ease up on the drugs a bit. It still takes time for his body to work through everything, and he comes too with a throat that's dry and a stomach that hasn't had anything in it for quite some time.
The first thing Danny does when they start asking him questions is throw up on them.
If they wanted cooperation, they should have treated him better. This is fully on them.
It makes for a convincing argument for food and water and a bathroom break, at least, so he gets what he demands and takes care of his human body under the cold gazes of three scientists.
"You guys suck," he says conversationally. "Keeping test subjects alive is like basic knowledge. No wonder y'all suck at your jobs."
"Your comments aren't needed," one of the scientists says primly. "Get up. We need to study how using your powers affects your body."
They hook a bunch of different things onto him, then lock him in a glass cage and use the cuff around his throat to send jolts of electricity through him when he doesn't do anything. He throws a chunk of ice at them, watching as it breaks apart into small pieces when it hits the glass. The scientists scribble in their notepads, and when they look at him again, he flips them off.
He gets shocked again, but it's worth it.
The process repeats for another few hours, then he's pulled out of the cage, gets an IV stuck in his arm, and drops off into drugged oblivion before he has time to start throwing hands.
5.
It must have been months. Danny's not sure; it's hard to keep track of time when locked in isolation.
He knows he's fed at least once a day. He's been getting a tray of bland food at random times, but he's counted over 50 trays sliding through the little slot on the bottom of his cell door.
Turns out insulting scientists and their procedures is a bad idea, especially when he has the language to really bruise their egos.
So.
Isolation sucks.
But at least they don't drug him anymore!
The cuffs do their job of keeping him in place, and if he didn't have memories of another life to keep him company, he definitely would have lost his mind long ago.
There's other people in here, other metas. He's heard them screaming and begging for mercy. He's heard them go chillingly quiet. He wonders why there are so many superheroes in this world when not a single one has come to save them.
Surely at least one would notice metas disappearing and would investigate?
But no.
No one ever comes to save them.
So Danny needs to figure out a way past the cuffs, and then he can be Phantom again long enough to free the other metas and make every scientist involve pay for their crimes.
He just needs to wait.
He just needs—
6.
When Danny wakes up, the alarms are ringing. It makes his head pound, throbbing with each piercing sound.
He stumbles up, using the wall to keep his balance, and freezes when he sees that the door to his cell is open.
…Huh.
The hallway is bathed in red light when he steps out. No one's around. He wanders around the facility, searching for answers and only finds more questions.
There are other cells, also empty. Certain rooms have blood splattered across the walls and the floor, but no bodies. Labs are destroyed, broken glass on the floor. But every room is empty.
He wanders until he finds what must be a security room. There's a strange device dangling off a keychain on a rack, and Danny eyes it curiously. He runs his fingers around the cuff on his throat, feels the little depression where the collar comes together, and takes the rounded device. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work.
But if it does work…
The cuff pops open easily, as if it hasn't been his greatest foe these past few months.
All at once, his strength returns to him. He has forgotten what it was like to breathe easily, to feel his powers come to his call so easily, to be reassured that he can take care of himself.
It's almost like coming back to life.
He transforms, settling back into his ghost form with relief, and flies through the facility in search of any other metas that may need help. He finds no one, but he does catch a glimpse of the outside.
The sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at. Part of the facility has been blown apart; rubble surrounds the place and the surrounding forest has been flattened. It looks as though a fight has moved through the area.
Maybe a superhero did come to save them? Rude of them to leave only Danny, though.
He continues his search, poking his head into different rooms and hallways. He finds a staircase going down and follows it into the basement. More labs greet him, and the glow of computers and strange vials of liquid leave him unsettled.
There's a green glow coming around the corner than reminds him of the Lazarus Pit he flew out of, once upon a time many years ago, and that's what draws him forward.
Tucked away in that familiar glow is a small body, floating in a tube of liquid. There's an oxygen mask attached to her face, but that doesn't stop Danny from recognizing her.
"Ellie?"
7.
Just like in one life, Danny is cloned. The difference is that this time, there's no reason for it, no insane godfather trying to recreate a version of him that will choose him.
No, this time it's from a group of scientists who should have known better, who decided to mess around with his genes, and brought his once little sister now daughter into such a cruel, dangerous world.
Danny barely remembers breaking the glass to get her out of there. He doesn't know where he found the coat to bundle her up in, flying out of the facility as fast as he could. He feels sick, knowing it's his fault that she's here now, forced into a painful, terrifying existence because he wasn't strong enough to save himself.
He's a runaway meta victim of mad science. He can't take care of her.
"I'm sorry, Ellie," he whispers to her, pressing a kiss against her head. "I'm so sorry."
She small in his arms. She barely weighs anything.
Danny blinks back tears and tries to find some place he can stop and rest, somewhere safe he can gather his thoughts and figure out his next steps.
This isn't like when he first woke up in this world, with both sets of memories.
This is Ellie.
She deserves more than just a wish and a half-baked plan for a better life.
She deserves a family that wants her, that can care for her, that can protect her. She deserves to grow up normally and not worry about destabalizing or being a replacement for him or being hunted down.
She deserves one life to be a kid and grow up safe and be whoever she wants to be.
Danny will never be able to give her that.
But maybe he can give her to someone who can.
8.
Danyal grew up with an assassin mother and a cruel grandfather who expected far too much from a child. He was taught to kill and be more weapon than child. He was taught the world was something for him to take, to protect, to water with blood.
Danyal was meant to be the next Demon Head, and the next Bat.
Danny knows he can't go to his mother. If they're both lucky, he will never have to see her again. Knowing his luck, he's already planning explanations for why he never went back to her.
Danny's father, on the other hand…
It didn't take much to put the pieces together. The notorious Bat is Batman, Gotham's vigilante and one of the founders of the Justice League. While a child would have been left confused by the many comments his mother made about his father, it was simple enough for Danny to line them up with what he learned about the heroes of this world and realize, oh, that's my dad.
It takes a few weeks of research, using public libraries with Ellie tucked securely in a wrap to his chest, but he's able to learn more about Batman.
The most important thing being that he has kids.
Of course, none of this is officially acknowledged, but everyone knows that the Robins are his kids. Current Robin, especially, likes to remind people that he's 'the son of Batman'.
Okay. Cool.
Danny has siblings.
Awesome.
He's… not looking forward to those conversations.
At least it means more people to look after Ellie. Assuming they take her in, which Danny's really hoping for.
But it's the best he can do, so Danny sets course for Gotham and hopes that just this once, everything will work out.
9.
Meeting the Bats of Gotham is a lot harder than he expected.
A week in the city and he's barely caught more than a glimpse of them. He can't dedicate a lot of time to tracking them down either, needing to break into grocery stores to get food for him and Ellie.
She's so quiet as a baby, and it terrifies him. She's only cried twice the entire time he's had her, and Danny spends every day begging her to hold on.
Time during the day is spent catching naps and researching common vigilante spotting areas in Gotham. He's got a map of Gotham taken from a library and has been steadily marking it up, putting stars in the best places to find a Bat. There are places all over the city, and Danny has no idea how to know which ones are the best.
The only thing he can do is wait at a different rooftop each night, clinging to Ellie, wondering if this is the last night he has with her.
On the ninth night, someone finally arrives.
"Step away from the edge," a voice demands.
Danny turns to see Robin approaching, hands held out as if to catch him. He's bigger than Danny was expecting. Which makes sense; most of the stories Danny got online are from when Robin was a kid, and it's been a few years since then. He must be a teenager now. Older, but still young.
"Robin," he manages to say, his throat tightening. It feels almost like there's a noose around it. It feels like that meta-suppressing cuff has clicked back into place, leaving him helpless.
"Step away from the edge," Robin repeats. "There is no need for this to be your last resort."
"But it is," Danny whispers.
Robin darts forward and wraps a hand around Danny's wrist, yanking him towards the center of the roof. "Why on Earth would you come up here? Surely you must have known that someone would stop you."
"Batman," he gets out. "I need to speak to Batman."
"What for?"
"I'm… I was told, once, that I'm his son."
10. Robin stares at him for a long moment.
Then he takes off his mask.
Danny knows those eyes: he sees them every time he looks in a mirror.
"Danyal," Robin breathes. "You died before I was born."
"I did. Are you…?"
"Mother told me about you."
So he has a little brother. If only he hadn't left first chance he got, he could have known his little brother, gotten away from that place before it hurt him too. Danny has made many mistakes since he arrived in this world. Missing a little brother is perhaps the worst of them.
"Mother…" Danny repeats. "She put me in the Lazarus Pit. I remember that. She didn't want me to die."
"I was born to replace you."
Just like Ellie.
So many mistakes repeating. He's never felt like more of a failure.
"Batman. Our father. He treats you well? You are safe with him?"
Robins brows furrow, but he nods, which is enough for Danny. "Yes. Of course. Isn't that why you're here now?"
"I'm not asking for me." Danny carefully, gently, unwraps Ellie. "I'm asking for her. Please, take care of her. She deserves more than I can give her. Ellie… she'd be your niece."
Robin's eyes are wide. He's frozen until Danny pushes Ellie against his chest, forcing him to lift his arms to hold her.
"Wait, what about—?"
When Robin looks up, Danny's already gone.
It's for the best.
(masterpost for all parts)
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entitled-fangirl · 1 month
Text
A brilliant melody.
Cregan Stark x quiet!reader
Summary: Cregan marries a woman who never speaks. When she finally does, he feels his heart melt three times over.
Warnings: SMUT (p in v), talk of abuse, tears
A/n: I've been wanting some kind of cool transitions for my writing. Like instead of the "...", some people have really cool art there. Does anyone know how to do that? I hope that makes sense 😬
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She was quiet. 
Being surrounded by the loud men of the north made her a quiet girl.
Cregan wasn't sure what to do with her. 
"You're a meek thing, aren't you?" Cregan asked as the two walked the courtyard of Winterfell.
In one day, they'd be wed. Bonded for life.
She only nodded.
She only ever really nodded or shook her head. 
He hummed as they continued walking. 
Her father had told Cregan of this days before, as if it was a defect that could put a halt to their betrothal plans. Cregan made sure to assure her father that it was not.
After all, she could speak. She just chose not to.
"Winterfell is beautiful in the winter," he began to ramble. "When the snow falls, it covers all of this in its brilliant white. Do you enjoy the snow?"
She considered his question and gave a small nod.
He grinned, "That's my northern girl. Luckily, Winterfell is warm." He noticed the light shiver in her frame. "Perhaps we should go back indoors. Don't want my future bride to freeze before I can place my house cloak upon her shoulders?"
True to his word, Cregan managed to place his cloak over her shoulders the very next day. It was a wondrous ceremony filled with many from across the North. 
Everyone gawked at the beauty of the new Lady of Winterfell.
But when one-by-one they moved to speak to her, Cregan was quick to deny them.
The two enjoyed the feast after. Seated at a high table, Cregan often leaned over to whisper things to her.
"You look radiant. Like the sun itself."
"I do believe the other lords may be envious that I have captured the most gorgeous woman of Westeros."
"I do wish you'd eat more. You've hardly touched the plate."
It was a strange sight, seeing such a burly brute of a man whisper sweetly to his wife.
"Is something bothering you?"
She shook her head.
Cregan sighed. "I've only known you for a few days, but I do believe I recognize the shaking of one's hands to associate with nerves."
It was true. Her hands shook violently.
"Is it the bedding ceremony?"
She shrugged.
His brows raised and he leaned closer, "You can be honest with me. I… I want you to be honest with me."
The woman looked down at her hands in thought. Finally, she looked back up at him and nodded.
"Aye. I see." Cregan leaned away and rested his elbows on the table, his head in his hands as he rubbed at his forehead. "Then I'll call it off."
He didn't miss the way her brows pulled together.
"The ceremony, lovely. I'll call it off." 
Not long after, Cregan stood and held his hand out to her. "May I dance with you, dear wife?"
She grabbed his hand with enthusiasm. It seemed she didn't need words, for expressions were enough.
He smiled at her as he lead her to the dance floor. 
Cregan was a lousy dancer. Being a northern lord meant there were many more important matters than learning how to properly dance. So, it was put aside. 
He knew the steps in truth, and he could lead just fine, his steps were just too harsh, his movements too calculated. 
It was just not how he expressed himself.
She, though, was marvelous.
It was as if each step was not one of a practiced art. It was as if it was how she naturally moved. 
Cregan was in so much awe that he nearly forgot to continue the lead. 
She didn't need words to express herself. Her movements were enough.
He felt as if he was finally seeing her. 
And she was beautiful.
The song ended, to Cregan's surprise as he snapped from his thoughts, and the guests clapped for their Lord and Lady of Winterfell.
Honoring his word, Cregan forbade the ceremony. No other living creature would be a witness to their consummation but the two of them.
After laying her upon the rich furs upon their bed, he was careful to properly prepare her to take him. 
Now, he forced himself to do so slowly, his hips slowly pushed to meet hers as he entered her.
She hissed lightly at the pain, and he swore he heard a small noise come from her throat instinctually.
He began to wonder what her voice sounded like.
Once seated in her fully, he paused to give her a moment to breathe. Her breath was quickened and her hands gripped his biceps as she tried to regain herself.
Cregan placed a light kiss to her lips, basking in the newness of her lips against his, as well as the eagerness she gave back as they did so.
Her hands slid up to cup his cheeks, suddenly gaining confidence.
"Have you adjusted, pretty girl?"
He shifted his hips, not thinking much as he waited for her response.
The sweetest breathy moan left her lips.
Cregan's eyes widened, and he had to stop himself from letting his lust take over then and there.
He tucked his face into her neck, laying heavy kisses along the way. "Easy now. Just tap me to stop."
And with that, he began to move his hips.
Not much came from her lips. She was used to not using her voice, that it almost seemed as if it was more work to use it then stay silent. It was hard for Cregan to tell her feelings, so he often had to tilt his head back up to gauge her reaction by her expressions alone.
He didn't realize how much he spoke in general until he was around her. How someone could happily be so silent, he wasn't sure.
But if the scratching against his back was any measure, he'd say he was pleasing her well.
"You're taking me so pretty."
She practically preened at his praise, her breath catching or escaping each time.
At one point, he pressed his hips firmly to hers, reaching deeper than he had before.
His face found its way to her neck again, her hands pulling at his hair.
But he paused, catching his breath and trying to instill a reaction from her.
Her hands recaptured his hair and pulled again. When he still didn't move, she tried to shift her hips to gain more friction. He was enjoying every second, despite the mere torture it was to not chase his own high.
He pressed a sloppy kiss to her neck, "Patience."
Her motions should have been enough of a reaction for him, but he wanted more. He'd do anything to hear her voice more. 
One of his hands moved down to her clit, pressing his thumb down and circling the bundle of nerves. 
A small whine came from her throat.
He felt warmth spread across his body, "Needy, aren't you?"
Her hand made a last-ditch effort to pull at his hair. He could hear her barely contained breath in his ear and a small voice.
"…Cregan… please…"
Cregan almost finished then.
Her voice was so soft. So sweet. Hoarse from its lack of use and so breathy. 
It was beautiful.
But guilt overshadowed all of that. He shouldn't have pushed her to the point of speaking. 
His hand trailed up her body to the bed, preparing himself again. "I won't deny you any longer. I'll give you what you want, sweet girl."
She began to speak to him after that. 
The times were few and far between, but nonetheless, he never took a single word for granted. 
Because she only spoke to him. 
 She never spoke her mind in full, so Cregan took it upon himself to do it for her. 
In meetings, she'd pull at his sleeve, prompting him to instinctually bend his head down towards her to properly hear her soft voice amongst the others. That was how she contributed to meetings: to tell her thoughts to the only one there she trusted. Over time, the men in the meetings caught on, and would pause to hear what the Lady had to say. It was a game of telephone, barely hearing a peep from the woman as she spoke to Cregan, and he voiced it aloud in his own manner. 
When they walked through the busy streets of the city, he kept his hand wrapped around hers, promising to give his attention to her when she squeezed it tightly.
Outside of their chambers, their form of communication was touch, often tapping one another gently. 
Inside, however, soft exchanges were common. She would only speak calculated thoughts, not one to ramble, but she would talk of her day, her newest book, or questions of things she always wondered about the man. 
In turn, he'd respond in the same manner, quieting himself naturally to match her tone as the two gazed into the flames of the fire that warmed the room.
"I wish you'd dance more."
Her head snapped up to him with furrowed brows.
"You're a beautiful dancer. I only wish I could see it more." He leaned against the back of the sofa. "Who taught you?"
"My mother," she spoke softly. "She was wonderful."
He smiled when he noticed the reminiscent look in her eyes at the thought of her mother. He pushed a strand of her hair from her face. "Tell me about her."
She leaned into his touch. "Father mocked me when I wouldn't speak. Said it was shameful. But mother always told me that feelings are expressed by actions rather than words."
"How so?" He absentmindedly asked.
"Men often say that they love their wives, but their actions are rather the opposite."
He hummed as he considered it. "Have I ever made you feel that way?"
"No."
It was the quickest response he'd heard from her. It only fueled his need to know as much as he could. To know her fully.
"Have you always been so quiet?"
As if a switch had been flipped, everything about her quieted.
Her breathing. Her voice. Her expressions. Her thoughts.
Silent. 
Whatever had happened had to have been traumatic to instill such a reaction from her.
"Forgive me. That was too forward, even for me to ask-"
"-I don't wish to talk about it today."
He felt relieved that his question hadn't dissolved her trust in him completely. 
"Well," he pulled her to him. "When you are ready to speak, I shall listen."
The next day, Cregan meticulously planned. And his efforts had paid off. 
She walked into the meeting room at the same time she did every week, to see it lacking its usual members. 
The table was pushed off to the side, and Cregan stood in its place as he donned a bright smile at the sight of her. 
Against the back wall, a few musicians stood with their instruments. 
Confusion spread through her and a wave of anxiety as well, prompting her to only stare at him blankly.
He was quick to correct it, stepping forward towards her. "I've excused the council today. I… I wanted to see you dance again."
Once her mind warmed up to the idea, a bright smile came across her face, accepting the hand that he extended to her. 
"I must admit, my love," Cregan said as he stepped in time with the music. "I am not a gentle man. But I am trying. For you."
She nodded, not daring to speak her overwhelming thoughts at the moment. 
After, they sat at the large dining table, the emptiness of it mattering not to the two lovers who sat together at one end.
"My uncle," she stated, breaking the silence.
His head tilted up to meet her gaze, "Hmm?"
Her cheeks turned a slight pink, "You asked how I became so quiet." 
Recognition flowed over his face, "Ah. Yes, I did." He sipped his wine and leaned towards her. "Your uncle, then?"
She nodded. 
"He was unkind to you?"
She picked at the skin of her fingers, seemingly reliving the moments in her mind. 
A battle within herself.
He put a hand on her thigh, "I will not force you to tell me things you do not wish to."
"I do," she insisted. "But I know not how to."
"Begin to speak, and I shall piece it all together."
She took a deep breath. "My uncle hit me when I spoke out of turn. At first, at least. Then… it was whenever I spoke at all."
He felt ice go down his veins and a feeling like a rock going down his throat. 
But being such a skittish thing, he knew not to react too harshly.
"When I told my father, he…" her eyes became glassy. "He said he was right for it. That… that a girl was made to only… shut her mouth and open her legs."
He couldn't keep it in anymore. "And you believed them?"
"When I spoke to you for the first time, I feared you'd be the same."
"I bask in the sound of your voice, my girl. I hope that you see that."
A warm tear ran down her cheek as she looked up at him.
"Oh, sweet woman," he cooed as he cupped her cheek. "Do not cry over false words."
When more tears began to fall, he quickly pushed her chair out from the table and pulled her into his lap.
She tucked her face into his neck, melting against him as if she wished to disappear. 
He held her close, not caring when his tunic became damp. When he did speak, it was soft and assuring whispers.
Once she caught her breath, she pulled away from him. "Forgive me."
"I don't believe I will."
Her eyes widened, and he realized his mistake in word choice. 
"Sweet girl, you've nothing to apologize for. That's all I meant."
She relaxed at that. She reached up and wiped her cheeks with a sniffle. "Actions have always spoke more than words."
He reached up and brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "Have they?" He asked softly.
She felt a smile come to her lips at his touch. "You are different. You could speak or act, and still, I'd only hear a brilliant melody to which I can always trust."
He never felt such love radiate as it did then.
.......................................
Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia
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logansdoll · 2 months
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I have so many ideas but I'm not a talented writer so here's one
-your logans wife pre striker you get taken by striker after logan gets shot as a way to kinda get back at him. Logan always had visions of a woman that he doesn't remember glimpses of domestic bliss. When striker attacks (in x2) striker name drops or says smth like "your wife has been waiting" as a way to antagonize logan.
Also, a cute detail to add if a fic takes place before he loses his memory would be the reader to call him james
I really love how your reader in has a plant mutation. Everything you write is just so good
I hope I wasn't to detailed feel free to take bits and pieces.
contingency
running through the base at Alkali Lake, Logan stumbles across a top secret room... only to find his whole entire world inside.
CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place during X2, has some elements from X-Men Origins: Wolverine, reader has been through some shit, Logan is so relieved, you don't really need to squint to see the angst, i'm iffy on how this turned out, etc.
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'Think, dammit! What the hell was he talking about?'
With a roar of frustration, Logan unsheathed his claws, sprinting around the bend and slicing right through the stomach of a nearby soldier, waiting until the man fell with a disgusting plop before continuing on his way.
Why couldn't he just remember?
He knew that, for whatever reason, his memories had been tampered with, and that he couldn't recall anything about his life before the claws.
But ever since his run-in with Stryker back at the mansion, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something especially important.
Something crucial.
"Wolverine..." Stryker grinned, eyes widening stepping forward out of the shadows. "I must admit, you are the last person I'd expect to find here."
Logan's claws revealed themselves with their signature shink, his brows furrowing as he warily stalked closer.
"How long has it been? Fifteen years?"
Stryker let out a small chuckle, but Logan was having a hard time finding what was so funny.
In fact, he was having a hard time with everything about this man—confused as to why he seemed so familiar.
"(y/n) says hello," Stryker goaded, adjusting his glasses. "Or, at least... I believe she would... If I'm being honest, she's feeling a little under the weather at the moment."
A sadistic smirk settled on his lips, his eyes glinting with sick satisfaction.
"But then again... there's seldom a time where she isn't feeling under the weather these days..."
"DAMMIT!" Logan barked, slamming his fist into a wall.
Not knowing was tearing him apart.
Who was (y/n)?
What were you to him?
And how the hell did he end up on the complete opposite side of the compound?
All questions that he furiously wanted to be answered.
Though, somehow—through his fit of blind frustration—he managed to stumble across a door, which had printed in big, bold, yellow letters:
CAUTION: KEEP OUT. HYDROSTASIS IN PROCESS.
"Hydrostasis?" Logan cocked a brow.
He didn't know why, but whatever was housed inside seemed to be pulling him in, silently urging him to open the door and investigate.
'Fuck it.'
Using one claw, he stabbed the retina scanner, the thick lock clicking with a satisfying beep.
He pushed past the door with ease, entering a seemingly large, dark, and oddly cold room, a lamp on one of the workbenches the only thing illuminating the space.
Cautiously, he approached it, sniffing and snapping his head around to make sure he was alone.
Yet he knew he wasn't.
He'd caught whiff of a faint scent emanating from somewhere further into the room, but it was so familiar, it seemed almost instinct to pay it no mind.
For some reason, he knew it wasn't hostile—and if anything, it calmed him, soothing his spiked nerves.
Reaching the table, he found that right next to the lamp laid a file labeled EXPERIMENT 25-8: CLASSIFIED.
He snatched it up with lightening speed, quickly skimming over the latest entry.
EXPERIMENT 25-8 a.k.a Weapon X Contingency
Name: (y/n) (l/n) Age: Unknown Sex: Female Height: X" X Weight: X Rank: Class 5 Report: 25-8 reviles authority. But her connection to Weapon X and general strength makes her a perfect candidate for Project Contingency. Her mutation and overall will to live have rejected all known forms of mind control. Will be kept in hydrostasis until new methods found. Conclusion: Further research required. Could possibly be the only creature known to man that can stop the Wolverine besides the Wolverine himself.
"(y/n)..." Logan tested out the name, confused as to why it sounded so natural.
So home-like.
Looking away from the pages, he glanced down at the table, catching sight of a large switch not too far away.
Without hesitation, he flicked it, the lights in the room suddenly cutting on, along with the lights to your chamber.
And there you were right before him—unconscious and floating in vibrant blue water.
Looking upon you, it felt like he was suddenly hit by a freight train, years of love, care, and warmth flooding his mind.
"James!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as he hoisted you over his shoulder. "Put me down!"
"Not a chance," he smirked, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. "You know what you did..."
"No..."
"C'mere. I need a taste tester," you smiled, cupping your hand under your fork as you held up a chunk of steak.
He grinned, placing down his newspaper and taking a bite, groaning at the good taste as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
"Well?" you asked, nervous.
"Baby..." he paused for dramatic effect, wanting to see you squirm. "This is the best damn steak I've ever eaten."
"You ass!" you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the shoulder as he laughed, rocking you back and forth.
"I can't..."
"I love you, y'know that?" he asked, holding you close as you both relaxed in the bathtub. "I feel like I don't tell ya enough."
"You tell me every day, baby," you smiled, looking up at him as you rested your back against his chest.
"Well, then," he smirked, his hand rising from the water, holding a beautiful diamond engagement ring. "You alright with me tellin' ya a little bit more?"
Your eyes went as wide as saucers, and you gasped so loud the neighbors (which were three miles away) would certainly hear.
"YES!" you squealed, scrambling to turn around and give him a kiss, the water sloshing around violently.
"Careful, hon! You're gonna knock me out the tub!" he chuckled, steadying you as your lips began peppering kisses all over his face.
"She can't..."
"James," you started, timidly, tracing mindless shapes in his chest as you both laid in bed. "That man you told me about... Stryker... he came by the house today."
Logan tensed at the name, his grip around you tightening.
"He didn't do anything, did he?" he asked, tone rising.
"No," you shook your head. "But he asked for you. Said it was important that you come and talk to him."
He sighed, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles.
"I'll go over tomorrow. Straighten everything out," he assured.
"I don't think you should," you quickly denied, nervous. "This man... I don't trust him... He gives me a bad feeling, y'know?"
He cracked a small smile, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.
"I promise you, he can't do nothin' to me that hasn't already been done."
"RAAAAH!" Logan roared, blindly slashing at the table and all nearby equipment.
How could he have ever forgotten you?
Fury consumed his being in every sense of the word, the anger swelling inside him in a way he had never felt before.
Sparks flew as Logan destroyed any and everything in his path, teetering on the edge between rage and regret.
He could remember so clearly now.
You were his world—his reason for drawing breath, his reason for existing.
No matter how bad things got—angry, frustrating, or lonely—you were there.
You were his escape, his safety, his peace.
Comparing his life from before to the current, he couldn't fathom how he'd survived so long without being in your presence.
Through his slicing, he managed to cut something important, a loud warning siren blaring before all the water began draining from your pod, rapidly pouring onto the floor.
With a loud hiss, the door opened, sending you falling out the chamber.
Logan rushed over faster than he'd ever done anything, catching you in his arms and cradling you bridal style.
He looked upon you as if you were a ghost, a figment of his imagination.
After years and years of separation, he was finally allowed a chance to see your face, now able to recall all its fine details with perfect accuracy.
The softness of your cheeks.
The kindness of your eyes.
The plumpness of your lips.
Suddenly, you let out a loud cough, spitting up some water as your eyes snapped open, frantically looking around.
Logan couldn't find the words.
The love of his life was sitting in his arms and after fifteen years... and he had no idea what to say to her.
"James?" you asked, weakly, disbelieving of the sight before you.
That's right!
James!
His name was James!
"Yeah, baby..." he nodded, bitter-sweetly, getting a bit choked up. "It's me—"
You threw your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him into a bone crushing hug as tears began pouring down your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with cries of relief.
"I thought you weren't coming!" you sobbed.
Your throat felt swollen as you stuttered, scrambling to say all the things you've been wanting to for so long.
"Oh, God, I love you, Jimmy! I love you so much! Please don't leave me again!"
"I'm so sorry, baby! I'm so, so sorry!" he sputtered, his hand finding home in your hair as he rocked you back and forth, stray tears escaping his eyes. "I shoulda been here! I shoulda protected you!"
He buried his face in your hair, peppering the side of your head with kisses.
"I love you so much, honey... I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere."
Suddenly, you went limp in his arms, panic and fear spiking up his spine.
"(n/n)?!" he pulled back, frantically scanning over you to see what was wrong."(y/n)?!"
Quickly, he pressed his ear against your chest, thanking whatever god in heaven that your heart was beating.
'It might be a side effect of the chamber... or maybe she's tired...'
Without warning, the entire compound began to shake, a familiar blue devil popping up next to him out of nowhere.
"Zere you are!" Kurt exclaimed, quickly grabbing onto his friend. "Vee must go! Zee place is goink to flood!"
In an instant, the three were back with the others, the mysterious woman in Logan's arms posing a question to everyone.
"Logan?" Ororo raised a brow, confused, as they began running toward the exit.
"Who the hell is that?" Scott asked, much blunter than Storm intended.
Logan looked down at your peacefully sleeping face, brushing a stray strand of hair out your face.
"She's my wife..."
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bonus !!
"SHE'S YOUR WHAT?"
1K notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 9 months
Text
Period sex with Geto Suguru <3
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contains: fem reader, established relationship, rough sex, blood blood blood, unprotected sex, hair pulling, so much dirty talk, this is truly filthy
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
"Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou-" Shoko's voice cut you off before you could continue cursing her out. "Good morning to you too." You groaned, keeping your phone pressed to your ear, you rolled over on your back, splaying your limbs out on your sheets. "You're on your period right?" You asked, making her choke on her spit on the other line.
"Why are you being weird right now?" She deadpanned into the receiver, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "We were together all day yesterday, and I wasn't supposed to start my period for another four days, so tell me why I woke up to bloody sheets." You growl, pouting at your ceiling.
"Crazy thought, maybe it's because the app you have to track your period is just... an estimate of when it will arrive..." She said, laughing into the phone. She held her phone away from her ear when you groaned into the receiver, rolling back over you put her on speaker so you could bury your face in your sheets to grovel while still being able to hear her. 
"Shoko, It's my 2nd anniversary with Geto today, I can't be on my period." You said, your voice coming out muffled from having your mouth buried in the sheets. "Well I hate to be the one to tell you this, but it sounds like you're on your period." 
You heard movement on the other line before you heard the tap running, Shoko must just be getting up to start her day too. "Fuck.. this fucking suuuuck." You groaned, lifting your head to lay your chin against the sheets, pouting at your phone. "It can't be that big of a deal right?" Shoko asked, her words coming out muffled as she brushed her teeth while she spoke.
"Huh?" You said, waiting for her to elaborate. "You're worried about the sex right? You're seriously telling me you've been with that freak for two years and you've never fucked on your period?" She asked incredulously, spitting the toothpaste out into the sink. 
You blushed at the thought of how dirty that was, how messy it would be. "Isn't that... kinda gross?" You asked, crossing your arms on the bed and laying your head against them. Shoko giggled on the other end, the water shutting off as her voice sounded louder now, she must've taken you off the speaker. "Nah, that's how soul ties are formed. Besides, Geto doesn't seem like the kinda person to be grossed out by that kinda thing, right?" 
Shoko had known Geto for as long as you have, so you trusted her words, but you still felt a little uneasy about the whole thing. "I don't know... It seems like it would just be one big mess." You replied, feeling yourself start to blush the more you thought about it. "At the end of the day, it's up to you, but from the way you started this call off by cursing at me like a sailor, I think having sex on your anniversary is kinda important to you, but what do I know."
--
You spent the rest of the day pondering Shoko's words. Geto was a gentleman truly. You had bled through on his sheets or your pants dozens of times in his presence, and every time he cleaned you up and reassured you it was alright and you shouldn't ever be embarrassed by something so natural.
Still though, just because he wasn't grossed out by it, doesn't mean he was into it. You weren't even sure yourself if you wanted to do it. Although Geto would probably reassure you to no end to not be embarrassed at the mess, you wouldn't be able to help yourself. Or that's what your anxieties were telling you. 
You and Geto had the most open, communicative, honest relationship, you had no idea why this was so hard to even think about bringing up to him.
What if he flat-out rejected the idea? That would be more embarrassing than actually having period sex and making a mess. After hours and hours of stressing over whether or not you were going to ask him if he wanted to do it, the time came when you didnt have a choice anymore.
Geto reached behind him and locked the front door shut blindly, one hand wrapped firmly around your waist as he kept you pressed to his chest, kissing you passionately. The way he was kissing you made all of your worries wash away, you almost forgot you were on your period until he slid his thigh between your legs, his hands coming down to grab your ass and start dragging your cunt along his thigh.
You tipped your head back, your eyes fluttering shut as Geto chased your neck, his breath smelling like the wine the two of you just shared at the beautiful restaurant he had taken you to. "Fuck... Sugu..." You whined quietly into the air, letting him grind you on his thigh, his lips kissing and sucking your neck sloppily. "Feel good baby? Feelin' better now that I'm kissin' you?" Geto mumbled against your neck, making you whimper.
"I-I've felt good all night- ahh!" Your words ended with a high-pitched moan when he flexed his thigh while he pulled your hips against him, the stimulation feeling just right against your clit. "Mmm.. you've been distracted." He whispered, kissing your neck between words. 
You cursed him for knowing you so well. He had said the same thing in the car; that you looked like something was on your mind; and you said you were fine, but clearly, he didn't believe you then, or now--he just didn't want to spoil the dinner by pushing you to talk about something you didn't want to talk about. 
"You gonna tell me what's wrong? Or you want me to fuck you so hard you forget about it." He whispered against your ear, chasing his words with a bite to your earlobe, making you groan, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck.." You loved it when he whispered in your ear like that. His filthy words never failed to send shivers down your spine. 
You let him pamper your neck a little longer before you stopped him, using his kisses to distract yourself as you tried to build up the courage to finally bring up what's been on your mind all night, or he was going to figure it out himself when he pulled down your panties.
When you felt Geto's hard cock poke against your thigh, that's when you decided it was time. You had to tell him before things went any further. "Sugu- fuck- fuck sugu stop for a second." You moaned begrudgingly, pushing his shoulders back.
Geto's lips detached from your neck, a small smile plastered on his blushing face as he stared at you, waiting patiently for you to speak. "I uh.." You started, fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt as you spoke. "Take your time baby," Geto said, his hands rubbing soothingly on your hips, making your body relax under his touch.
"I wanted to tell you earlier, but I didnt want to ruin the mood.." You started, looking at the wall behind him, embarrassed as you spoke. Geto nodded at your words, keeping his eyes on yours so you knew he was listening, whether or not you were looking at him. "I started my period this morning.." You said, taking a deep breath before your eyes found his once more, gauging his reaction.
Geto snorted, his large hand sliding up your back to lay on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. "That's what you were so worried about all day? Your expression looked like someone had died." Geto laughed, dimples forming on his cheeks as he giggled. You pouted at him while he messed up your hair. "So what now? You wanna pick up where we left off, or is this you telling me you just wanna watch a movie tonight? Both are fine." Geto said, his hand finding a home on your waist once more as he waited for your reply.
"Huh? You know continuing...this" you bulged your eyes out, moving your head around to gesture at what the both of you were doing, "will lead to sex..." You said confused. Geto looked at you deadpanned, waiting for you to tell him something he didnt already know. "That's right baby," Geto said, pursing his lips together as he nodded, trying to hide his giggle.
"Suguru, I'm bleeding out of my vagina... y'know, the place your dick goes... when we have sex." You said, your embarrassment long gone as you tried to figure out why Geto was being so nonchalant about this whole thing. 
The dark-haired man smiled, his face dipping down to your ear once more as he bit the shell of your ear between his teeth, kissing the same spot once he let it go. "If you think I'm worried about getting a little blood on my dick, you're worrying for nothing," Geto whispered into your ear, his hot breath and deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "What's the point of having a sword if you're afraid to get a little blood on it~" He whispered in the same tone, making you cringe and pull your head away from him.
"You've been hanging out with Satoru too much." You said, your face scrunching in displeasure as you covered your ear with your hand, preventing Geto from whispering any more pussy drying shit into your ear. Geto laughed before he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, making you soften up for him once more. "I'm serious. If it's okay with you it's okay with me. Just wanna make you feel good." He said, taking a step closer to you so his chest was flush with yours.
You wanted to ask him again if he was sure, but you already knew what the answer was going to be. You knew Geto would have absolutely no problem reassuring you a thousand times over he was okay with this if that's what you needed, but you decided to not let your anxieties win tonight. "Okay... go get a towel and meet me in the bedroom..." You said shyly, feeling your face heat up as you looked away from him, staring at the wall like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
"Yessss," Geto whispered, his hand forming a fist as he shook it in front of him like he had just won a medal. You snorted at his ridiculousness as Geto pressed his hands on your cheeks and kissed your forehead before pulling away and making a B-line for the bathroom to get the towel you asked for. "Get ready and get 'ur ass on my bed now!!" Geto yelled from the hall, making you laugh as you held your hand over your dress that had started to slip down your tits, your body making a path to the bedroom.
--
You weren't waiting long at all before he walked into the room, one dry, and one wet towel over his arms. You had already used the other bathroom in Suguru's bedroom to get yourself ready, discarding the tampon in the trash as you sat on his bed, praying that in the couple of seconds he took to get the towels, that you hadn't already bled through your panties and onto his sheets. Not that that type of worry was warranted right now when you were about to have sex with him.
Geto whistled when he walked in, his eyes raking over your body that was clad in the special set you had bought just for tonight. "That new?" Geto asked, placing the wet towel over his headboard for later. His knee dipped into his sheets, his hands opening the towel as he motioned with his head for you to come over to him so he could lay it down for you. "Yeah, do you like it?" You asked, pawing your hands over the big muscles in his arms as he fanned the towel out on the bed like a blanket.
His arms slid under yours as he crawled towards you, only clad in his boxers and half-unbuttoned dress-up shirt. His boner was strikingly obvious as his shirt flowed freely in front of him as he made his way on top of you, his larger thighs sliding under yours, your legs wrapped around his waist. "Fucking love it, baby, you look so beautiful," Geto whispered, pressing his hips forward into yours as he spoke, his hard cock pressing against your panty-clat pussy.
"Thank you Sugu." You said, biting your lip before he leaned in, connecting your lips together. You moaned against him, his lips parting to slot against yours as he swallowed your soft noises. Geto breathed out sharply through his nose as he made out with you, his hips slowly rolling against you as he held the small of your waist in his hands, using your body as leverage. 
Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him as close as possible as the two of you kissed. His tongue poked at your lips, silently asking for permission to let him in. You happily obliged, opening your mouth more you poked your tongue out to meet his, his overpowering yours in an instant as the taste of you consumed him, making a new wave of heat wash over his body.
One of his hands slid between the two of you to grope at your chest, his large, warm hand engulfing the fat of your tit as he massaged it in his hand, his fingers rubbing small circles teasingly around your nipple, making you whine and whimper into his mouth, your hands crumpling his dress shirt in your fists. 
"'S that feel good baby?" Geto asked, kissing you between words. You nodded against him, moaning louder as he started to press his hips harder against yours. You felt a gush of wetness flow from your cunt, the feeling making your body tense as you were unsure of what it was. "Just relax baby. Gonna take such good care of you." Geto whispered against your lips, feeling your body stiffen underneath him.
Slowly, as he kissed you, your body loosened up once more, you started grinding your hips up into his, repeating in your head that this was okay, Geto was into this, you were okay.
Suguru leaned back, his hands sliding down your body as they gripped your hips firmly. He bit his lip as he humped his cock into your clothed cunt, his mushroom tip pressing right against your clit. One of your hands was placed on his thigh, the other came to press lightly over your mouth as you moaned at his ministrations, the fire in your tummy getting hotter.
"I can feel you through my boxers," Geto said, slowly rolling his hips into yours. You blushed, your eyebrows furrowing together as you whined at his words. His thumb came down to press at your clit through your panties, his cock poking at your hole as he kept humping against you. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, abandoning your mouth as you moaned freely, your body squirming against the sheets as he rubbed your clit in small circles.
"Fuck baby, you're so fucking wet down here." He groaned, biting his lip as he touched you, feeling the wet fabric under his finger. You whimpered under him, your legs squeezing around his wrist when he pulled away from your clit, his hips pulling back so he could take off your panties.
You looked like a disheveled mess, your face a flushed mess, your nipples hard through your sheer bra, your chest raising and falling quickly as you panted from Geto's teasing. He slipped his fingers under the band of your panties, his eyes finding yours before he spoke. "Is it okay if I take these off?" He asked, trying to appear calm and collected as his cock throbbed at the suspense of finally seeing your bare pussy exposed to his eyes.
You nodded, your hand retracting from his wrist as you let him lift your legs, your panties soaked with blood and your arousal being thrown somewhere on his floor. "Oh fuck." Geto groaned, his hand coming to cover his mouth as he stared at your naked pussy, streaks of red contrasting nicely against your cunt. You resisted the urge to close your legs as Geto shamelessly stared at you, his other hand reaching down to his dick as he grabbed himself over his boxers, palming his bulge.
"Your pussy is so cute, so fucking cute." He praised, shaking his head in disbelief as he throbbed in his hand, his face heating up at his arousal. "Don't stare Sugu... It's embarrassing." You whined, looking away from him with a pout. "Nooo, nonono." Geto quickly retorted his hand that was covering his face sliding down to his chest as he unbuttoned his shirt, peeling back the fabric and letting it fall to the ground as he fully exposed his rippling chest to your greedy eyes.
"'S not embarrassing at all. It's so fucking hot." He groaned, palming himself harder over his pants. You blushed at his shameless words, your eyes raking over his chest as you tried to distract yourself from his watchful eyes. "Fuck." he groaned, continuing to rub himself, leaving you a throbbing, bloody, leaky mess. 
"God... would you kick me if I ate your pussy out right now? She's lookin' at me like she wants to feel my tongue inside her." Geto said, rubbing his thumb over his tip. You felt a chill run down your spine, your cunt clenched at his words but your legs tried to snap shut around his hips in fear that he would actually do it. "Don't even think about it, stop thinking about it." You said, the color draining from your cheeks.
Geto let out a giggle, his thumb reaching down to pull apart the lip of your pussy, spreading you open so he could get a better view of you. "Relax, realxxx, I won't do it... this time..." You missed that last part as you felt Geto spread you open, your ears feeling hot as he stared at your cunt like it was some attraction.
Geto was too distracted by your hands that he didn't notice until he felt your touch that you had leaned to the side so you were able to reach his cock, your hand palming over his dick, making his eyes go wide as they shot up to your face. "How much longer are you gonna keep me waiting, huh?" You asked, trying to sound stern but your arousal made you sound like a needy cockslut.
Geto smirked, his hand pulling down his boxers quickly as he shimmied out of them, his hard cock slapping against his hard abdomen, the small happy trail of black hair that ended at the neatly trimmed base made your mouth water. "Sugu, did you make your dick all pretty for me?~." You teased, referring to how neat and almost pretty his pubes looked.
"Are you trying to say I usually look messy?" He asked, squinting his eyes at you as his jaw dropped in faux offense, his arms finding their home on your waist once more as he leaned over you, his chest pressed against his as his cock poked your pussy from below. You giggled at his scrutinizing gaze, your hands cradling his face as you spoke. "Never baby, but It looks like you took your crotch to the barber." You said giggling, your laugh getting interrupted with a sharp inhale as his dick poked your clit.
Geto pouted at your teasing, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck as he bit the skin there, making you groan. "'s the last time I try to do anything nice for you... followed a tutorial 'nnd everything." He said, that last part making you laugh. 
"Yeah yeah, laugh all you want. Let's see if you're still laughing when I fuck you full of my pretty dick, huh?" He said, his hand pressing by the sides of your head as his other slid between the two of you to grab the base of his dick, rubbing his tip against your folds.
Your giggling immediately ceased when you felt his leaky tip bump against your clit. Looking between you you saw the head of his dick already coated in a thin layer of your blood, making your hands shoot to your face as you leaned back, covering your eyes. Geto smiled at your antics, the hand not holding his cock reaching up to pull your wrist away, "Baby shop that~ You don't have to be embarrassed." Geto said, his eyes flitting between your cunt and your flushed face, hidden by your hands.
"I've never done this before, it just... it feels like I should be." You said, peeking through your fingers to look at Geto, who was still rubbing his cock agaisnt your folds, the wet sounds your cunt was making made your ears flush red at the tips. "I know baby, but I promise I fucking love it. Look how hard I am... c'mon... look." Geto pleaded, pulling gently at your wrists for you to show your face.
Begrudgingly, you pulled your hands away, looking down between your legs at Geto's stiff cock. He pressed his tip against your folds, making your pussy squish at the top as he pressed hard against you, dragging his tip from your entrance to your clit. "You think I'd be this hard if I was grossed out by this? Hm?" Geto said, raising his eyebrow at you.
You held your hands over your chest, your fingers fidgeting with the straps of your bra as you shook your head. "Yeah, that's right. Knew you were a smart girl." Geto praised. He looked down at his cock, his balls clenching at the sight of your blood smeared over his cockhead. He rubbed you up and down a couple more times before he found the entrance of your pussy, pressing in slightly as he fed you the tip of his cock.
You gasped in unison as it popped into the tight ring of your cunt, Geto took a deep breath in through his teeth before he pulled back out again, repeating the process a few times. "Fuck...Sugu... give me more, please." You whined impatiently as you felt yourself clench around nothing each time he pulled out, leaving you empty.
"I didn't stretch you out on my fingers, so I gotta take it slow, pretty girl," Geto explained, watching you pout at his words. "Unless you want me to?" He added with a mischievous smirk, already knowing your answer. The way your expression changed to a more serious one answered his question better than your words ever could've. "That's what I thought, be patient," Geto replied, slipping his fat cock in and out of your leaky hole.
"Fuuuuck." You moaned, your head falling back against the pillows when Geto pushed his cock in a little deeper. Your hand shot to his sheets, crumpling the fabric between your fingers as he took his time working you open on his dick. "God- you're so fucking warm-" Geto grit through his teeth, thrusting his cock shallowly into you.
Your pussy was usually insanely warm, making Geto never want to pull out--but right now? It was especially warm and wet, he had your blood to thank for that. "Sugu~ You're so big-" You groaned when he let go of the base of his cock and slid himself slowly inside you, his other hand coming to steady himself by your head. Your hands shot up to grab his waist, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to ground yourself.
"Yeah? 'n you're taking it so fucking well." He praised, taking the opportunity while you had your eyes shut to look down at your tight cunt sucking him in, his brain short-circuiting as he watched your blood drip out around him, making a mess on the towel. 
He looked back up to your face at just the right moment when you cracked your eyes open again, looking at him with pleasure plastered all over your face. "Almost in baby, just a little more." Geto cooed, his hand reaching over to rub your cheek soothingly as he continued pushing his cock into your tight hole, making your face scrunch in painful pleasure as his fat cock stretched you open.
He thrust his hips to the hilt, the both of you moaning together as he pressed his balls to your ass, making sure his cock was snug inside you. "Good girl, good fucking girl. You took my whole fucking cock like it was nothing~" He praised, his face coming down to pepper kisses over your cheeks as he stayed snug against you, not wanting to move before you were ready.
The two of you kissed while your cunt adjusted to the stretch. Your hands roamed the other's bodies as you locked your legs around Geto's back, wishing the two of you could be even closer somehow. "Baby.." You whispered against his hips, making him pull back a couple of centimeters to look at you. "Baby, please move now. Fuck me, wanna feel you." You begged your hand on his cheek, thumb caressing his soft skin as you spoke.
"Yeah? How bad do you want it?" He asked, smirking at you as he rolled his hips against yours, his tip pressing against your g-spot teasingly, making your jaw drop open against his lips, his mouth kissing your open one. "So bad, Sugu please, please give it to me." You whispered, threading your other hand through his hair, your nails raking over his scalp in the way you knew he loved.
"That feels good, keep doing that and I'll give you my cock, okay?" Geto said, his eyes rolling back in his head when you took a handful of his hair, getting ready to tug when he started fucking you. You nodded quickly, whimpering as he lifted his upper body off of you a bit. Pulling his hips back, his cock sliding out almost to the hilt, he fucked it back inside you, all eight inches of his girth being bullied into your walls, making your slick and blood gush out around him.
You yelped into the room, your hand tugging at Geto's soft hair, making him groan in tandem. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you kept tugging on his hair, his hips starting a brutal pace as he fucked you with reckless abandon, loving how wet you felt around him with the extra fluids.
"Fuck baby, fuck." Geto groaned, his head tipping back with your hand when you pulled extra hard. "This feels so fucking good ohmygod. Are you feeling good too? Do you like this?" Geto rambled, your pussy created lewd squelches to echo throughout the room, making you blush. You didn't dare look between the two of you to see how much of a mess you were making. 
"M-mhmm, Feels so g-good Sugu-" You gasped, his cock bulling into your sweet spot making your words come out choked and slured. Geto let out a long groan, slowly rolling his hips against yours before he leaned forward and took your clothed nipple into his mouth, his hips picking up again. 
Both of your hands tangled in his hair as you pressed him against your chest, the soft strands of his long black hair falling onto your chest and neck, tickling your skin. "Oh fuck- right there, fuck right there baby-" You whined, your nails digging against his scalp as he bit your nipple softly through your bra, moaning against it as you treated his head roughly. 
His hips were so fucking mean, his pelvis grinding against your clit at the new angle, his bodyweight crushing yours making you feel lightheaded. The trimmed hairs on his pelvis tickled your skin, the rough feeling of his hard pelvic bone feeling euphoric as he rolled his hips against yours every so often, your clit throbbing against it.
"I can feel how messy you are down there." Geto moaned around your nipple. "You're fucking flooding around my dick right now, it feels so good, so fucking good." He groaned, moving his head to your other breast, finding your nipple with ease as he sucked it through the rough fabric, the sweet taste of your skin still accessible through it.
"A-ah- Don't say that-" You whined, accidentally tugging his hair a little too hard when he started fucking you at a particularly sensitive angle, his tip completely stimulating your g-spot and obliterating it. He groaned loudly against your skin at the feeling, his cock twitching at the feeling of his hair being pulled, the stimulation going straight to his cock. 
"Why not? You embarrassed? Embarrassed about how much I love your pussy? Hmm?" Geto asked, lifting his head to look into your eyes. You took note of his swollen lips, red from sucking on your chest. His flushed face and slack jaw, his overall fucked out expression sent a whole new wave of arousal through you.
Geto kept the bottom half of his body close to yours, making sure he was able to keep stimulating your clit with his pelvis. "Ye-ah-" You replied, keeping your lidded eyes on his as he fucked you, the tension in the room making you feel hot all over. "You're so cute, baby." Geto cooed, his jaw dropping with a smile as he fucked into you harder, making your head fall back against the pillows once more, your eyes falling shut.
Geto chased your neck with his lips, his head finding a home in your neck as he kissed and sucked at your neck roughly, his actions sure to leave bruises the next day. "Ooh fuck, you just got so tight," Geto mumbled into your neck, making sure to thrust his hips up against your walls so he was fucking you in all the right spots. "You like when I kiss all over your neck like this? You like when I fucking- pamper you?" Geto babbled, his hips losing their rhythm as his words made you clench around his cock, your bloody juices leaking out around his cock, dripping down his balls.
"Suguru- baby, baby I'm getting close-" You warned, your words coming out as high-pitched whines as his hips fucked you towards your high, Geto following right on your tail. "Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock? Gonna make an even bigger mess for me? He teased, his teeth digging into your neck as he tried to hold back his orgasm long enough for you to cum first.
You were making his mission nearly impossible though. The way your cunt was squeezing around him, your cries in his ear, your nails digging into his scalp? It was about to push him off the edge. "Fuck, I'm not gonna l-last much longer either." Geto voiced, burring his forehead deeper into your neck, his eyes screwing shut.
As much as Geto wanted to lean back and watch your blood squirt out around his cock as you came, he couldn't find it in himself to pull away from you right now. He was relishing in the feeling of your body heat radiating into his skin, making him feel feverish. "Ngh- Cum with me Sugu, want you to cum with me." You begged, squeezing your legs around his back, trying to pull him even closer.
Geto felt his balls clench, his abdomen starting to burn with his impending pleasure at your words. "Okay baby, okay, want it inside you?" He asked, biting down hard against your shoulder as he fucked into you, making sure to grind his hips against your pelvis after every thrust, stimulating your clit. 
"Yes! yes, oh fuck- cumming-" You cried, barely even able to voice your high before you were cumming all over his cock. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head as he felt your cunt squeeze his cock, your pussy milking him of everything he was worth as he released his first ropes of cum inside you. "Cuming- cuming- fuck- take it, ohhhh my god." He groaned against your neck, his eyes rolling back in his head as he fucked rope after rope of his cum into you.
He was unable to distinguish whose fluids were leaking around his cock, dripping down his balls--maybe it was a mixture of everything. Your bodies jerked and spasmed agaisnt each other as you came, moaning against one another. Your hands released from his hair as you came down from your high, your hands rubbing over his sweaty back as Geto collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck as his dick weakly twitched inside your walls, dripping out every last drop of his cum he had for you.
The two of you caught your breaths as you lay together, the air around you smelling like musk and sex, making you feel dizzy. After a few moments, Geto groaned against your neck, the sound vibrating into your skin. "That felt so good," He said, his words coming out muffled as he spoke against your skin, making you giggle.
"Yeah... Happy anniversary." You said, cradling his face when he lifted it from your neck. Geto leaned in for a kiss, smirking when he pulled away. "Best anniversary yet." He said with a childish smile on his face. Geto pressed a kiss to your forehead before he leaned back, keeping his dick inside you as he leaned back on his heels, pulling his cock out an inch or so to look at the damage. He whistled looking down at the bloody, slick mess the two of you created.
You only had to look down for half a second to notice the streaks of blood on Geto's thighs, let alone the mess of cum and blood mixed together around the base of his cock and your pussy. It truly was a mess if he'd ever seen one. You groaned, covering your eyes once more with your hands. You'd think after fucking him on your period, you would be less embarrassed, but that simply wasn't the case.
"Aww baby~" Geto cooed, giggling as he rubbed your thigh. "How are you feeling, does it hurt anywhere?" He asked, pulling his messy cock out, making you wince before he was leaning over you to grab the towel to clean you up. "A little sore... a lot embarrassed." You replied, not daring to even peek as you felt Geto run the towel over your cunt. "Sorry." He mumbled when he watched your body twitch away at the feeling of the rough material of the towel on your sensitive pussy.
"Just one nice warm shower with your boyfriend, and it'll be like this never happened." Geto comforted, taking the opportunity of your hands covering your face to look under the towel to see if there was any blood on his sheets--there wasn't, miraculously. 
You groaned in reply, knowing he was right but still feeling embarrassed anyway. "Look on the bright side, we're soul-tied now. There's no getting away from me~" Geto cooed, trying to get you to loosen up. Apparently, it worked, because your hand slid off of your face, resting on your kiss-marked chest as you stared at him deadpanned. "Seriously, stop hanging out with Gojo so much."
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midnightcrw · 7 months
Text
Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing, even though it's only one swear word (this is fluff, by the way)
a/n: Since you all wanted a second part, I finally wrote one, although I really wasn't sure how to continue. I tried my best, and unfortunately, I'm not that happy with it, but hopefully, you all will like it somehow / Part 1
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A headache threatened to make itself known as you looked unimpressed as the King of Hell shook your shoulders, causing you to rock back and forth.
"Did your parents drop you on your head when you were a kid?" Lucifer asked in a desperate tone, not wanting to believe that you and Alastor were a thing (obviously still not knowing that you're married to each other).
"Maybe," you said nonchalantly, ready to push him away if he didn't stop shaking you.
"But-" that's it, you thought as you pushed Lucifer's hands away from your shoulders, surprising him by that before cupping his face in your hand, squeezing his cheeks tightly as he stared at you with wide eyes.
"Listen to me," you began in a stern tone, glaring at him, making him visibly swallow. "You're going to let your daughter show you around, or I'm going to skin you infront of everyone."
With that, you let go of his face as you dusted off your hands, as if you had touched something dirty.
The rest of the residents could only stare with shocked expressions. Fortunately, they hadn't heard what you had said, but from what they had seen, it was definitely intense, as no one would dare do such a thing to the Ruler of Hell.
Though Alastor didn't look shocked, he seemed to be fuming as one of his eyes twitched while the crazed grin never left his face.
"Okay... Anyway, Dad. Look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings!" The excitement was vivid in Charlie's tone as she had her beautiful smile on her face.
She was already trying to move on, wanting to make her point to her dad and you appreciated the fact that you weren't in the spotlight anymore.
Thinking that you were finally getting some peace, you sighed in relief before you felt Alastor's head on top of yours.
"Tell me, darling. How long have you known this little pesky, but surely powerful man?" The 'powerful' was emphasized, as the static seemed to get even more grating with his snippy tone.
Alastor was not the jealous type, you knew that. But he always had his moments, loving to meddle in other people's affairs while hiding his own.
Huffing, you turned around and looked up at him, "While you were gone for seven years, I might have befriended him."
The anger was evident in your voice as you did not explain further. Not only had your husband left you for a few years out of nowhere, but now he was suddenly trying to pry information out of you.
Alastor just laughed at your answer and shook his head while your hands clenched into fists.
And before you could curse him, he suddenly moved much closer, almost pressing his forehead against yours. "Surely for nothing of lustful nature," he whispered sharply, sounding almost disgusted as he uttered the word 'lustful'.
"Maybe I should have," two could play this game, and you certainly weren't going to back down now, since he loved to provoke you so much.
Hearing your reply, the static increased as his antlers grew before he suddenly disappeared in front of your eyes, now standing further away from you.
"Charlie has a very unique vision," your husband began as he approached Charlie, speaking very animatedly, "I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests," he said, placing his hand on the blonde's shoulder as she thanked him.
Of course, seeing that didn't make Lucifer happy at all, since he was already planning to kill Alastor when he got the chance.
And to be honest, at this point, you couldn't care less, almost ready to encourage Lucifer.
"Quite an impressive young lady. We're all very proud of her." The man dressed in red knew what he was doing as he pulled Charlie closer.
Somehow, even though he was angry, the short man managed to steer the conversation to another topic, such as getting introduced to the rest of the people in the hotel.
With a smile on her face, Charlie pulled Vaggie near her, "This is Vaggie. She's my girlfriend."
You had probably never seen Lucifer so relieved as a grin made its way across his face, "Oh my golly, you like girls?"
You truly wanted to bang your head against something, knowing that he was going to embarrass himself.
"Yes, so do I. We have so much in common. You put her there, Maggie," he said as he pulled Vaggie into a bone crushing hug, making her a bit uncomfortable with his enthusiasm.
"He didn't even get the name right..." you muttered, rubbing your temple in frustration.
And of course, it wouldn't be Alastor if he didn't continue to annoy you further, "Everything all right, my sweet?"
"Would be much better without you here," you said, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to deal with him right now.
"Is that so?" Alastor whispered in your ear with a toothy grin on his face, looking pleased with himself as you flinched at the sudden closeness.
All you could do was exhale sharply as you stepped away from him, even though he teleported right back into your personal space.
Ignoring him, you just watched the rest of the residents.
"Hello, I clean." Niffty giggled to herself as she grabbed hold of Lucifer's coat, causing him to stare at her with an uncertain expression on his face.
"Don't you dare throw the chandelier to the floor," you whispered, already one step ahead of him.
"Oh, and how well you know me," Alastor said in a delighted voice, and now you wished you hadn't told him that, because it seemed that another plan was brewing in that big head of his.
Without warning, your husband suddenly put an arm around your waist as he walked you closer to the rest of the people.
"You must be proud of Charlie since she has already found people who want to redeem themselves," the grin didn't leave his face as usual as the attention was once again back on you and Alastor.
Lucifer's eye twitched as he looked at you, not liking the fact that the deer was holding his friend so close.
"Sure I am," the short man said as he pulled you out of the radio demon's grip, causing the static to be heard.
"Doesn't seem like it," Alastor said quickly, jumping to the next topic before Lucifer could interject in annoyance, "I even remember the exact moment Charlie needed help, and of course, being the perfect gentleman, I couldn't help but lend a hand." He chuckled to himself as he suddenly grabbed your hand, wanting to pull you to him, but Lucifer didn't let go of your hand, but nonetheless he continued to talk anyway.
"You could almost call me dad," Alastor said with a sinister grin as both men continued to pull on your hand.
"Surely no one would call you that," the King of Hell said with contempt in his voice as he glared at your husband and suddenly turned his eyes to you, "I promise you, you can do better than this. Have you seen his haircut?"
"I see it every day," you muttered.
Charlie didn't seem to be in a better mood than you, as she let herself fall onto the sofa while Vaggie patted her head. And somehow Angel Dust was eating popcorn, even holding the popcorn bag in front of the Princess of Hell as she started to eat some of it while they all watched the three of you.
"In fact, she sees it every day and every night," Alastor added with a crazed look in his eyes as he started to get annoyed.
The look on Lucifer's face was hilarious. One would really like to see his reaction if he knew that Alastor wasn't interested in anything sexual, but just loved to anger people, especially those who didn't pay attention to him.
"Nobody wants to see that atrocity!"
"Well, she loves it!"
"She doesn't!"
And before things could get worse, Husk suddenly said, "Mimzy is here."
With that, your eyes widened as you looked towards the entrance while the men stopped pulling on your hands.
Oh and how you hated her.
"Surely you all missed me!" The voice of the beautiful little woman was heard, clearly directed at your husband.
Fuck no, you thought.
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Taglist
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@nightlydream
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hyhkai · 1 month
Text
camboy! | c.yj.
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[ 🎥 ] — after yeonjun's rise in the porn industry, an interview was something he agreed to for fun. however, after he saw you, the interviewer, he wished it was a fake interview where he gets to fuck you.
cw : pornstar!yeonjun. unedited word vomit fictional magazine company that apparently also exists in real life.
a/n ; i apologize for my sins i swear I'll change 🙏🏼 and this is a drabble, not a fic! i might turn it into one over time ♡
after you reached out to him a few weeks ago with greetings and compliments, and asking can I interview you some time? I'd like to know what it's like to be a person who earns through the adult industry, and with your fame, I know that you're just the right person., his first, honest reaction was to laugh. i mean, seriously?
he was laughing at the irony of the fact that he was being interviewed. i mean, who was willing enough to take out time of their busy, hectic schedule to interview a man who earns bread by having a dildo inside of him? he had to know. he wanted to know what this person was like.
he did think that this could be completely false and you could be a potential threat, trying to lure him into your little cage with cheese like he's a fucking rat, capture him and do bad things to him like he'd heard with various nefarious acts of people against people with 'easy' fame.
"can I get proof that you're actually an interviewer?"
to which he immediately got a response with a photo of a xerox copy of your identification document, namely at a popular company called mode de vie. he could see the black and white ink that framed the photo stuck on the top right corner, and he knew that he had to see that fucking face in real life. if that's how you look in a awfully captured picture, so captivating, bold, and confidence outlining your eyes in the form of sharp eyeliner, he had to see that face in front of him, asking him questions about his body count or something else he doesn't give two shits about.
he'd said sure to your offer almost immediately now that he saw that it was a real interviewer after him. and now that it was time, he drove to the place where you both agreed to be at — a café which was relatively close to his house and your office.
"I'm glad you came!" you said as you shook his hand that would eventually get sweaty from just sitting opposite to you. what the fuck? he seriously considered telling you to quit this stupid, serious job and just join him in his public sex life. you were stunning.
now that he saw your hair open, framing your face, and that fucking sharp-ass eyeliner, he was mad that he didn't dress up nicely and instead came in a hoodie. who wants to miss a chance of getting a baddie?
he thanked the lords he'd long forgotten when you told him this is just an audio based interview which will later be turned into a text format.
while you continued asking him questions about everything, from "fuck-a-fan" to "how did your mother find out?", he'd needed to ask you to repeat your questions several times. his eyes kept drifting down, down to your chest.
'why the fuck are you wearing a top so low-cut? is it to provoke me or something?' he'd think. he legitimately wants to put his hand on the table, pushing himself towards you and grabbing one of your tits. it's pissing him off he can't.
okay, so maybe he was a pervert like one of his friends liked to say. but it wasn't his fault when you were asking him questions about his sex life while looking at him with those eyes that were possibly tearing his clothes off.
in his world, that is.
'do you want to fuck me too, or am I trippin'?'
he knew he had to keep his filthy hands, his filthy thoughts, to himself. c'mon, it's a fucking interview, yeonjun. grow up. you've had plenty of girls and guys to fuck in your life. from small and petite, to taller than you. from fucking someone to getting fucked. you've done it all. why are you so captivated by this woman?
maybe it was the way you had your makeup done that had him wishing he could see it smeared all over with a new makeup product; his cum, or maybe it was your tits that were practically begging to be the thing he shoves his face in tonight. but no, it was the way you carried yourself.
there was this... this aura, this radiation of confidence that was magnetic enough for him to be pulled to you.
under the table, he was practically going to rub one out. he kept adjusting his pants, kept palming his dick that was straining against his pants and standing up against his thoughts of not fucking you ever.
ugh, just how fucking good you'd look on his bed, and he swears he could go above his rounds per fucking streak of 4 with you; from classic missionary to the amazon position, from sixty-nine to his foot on your face while he fucked your ass from the back. fuck, he'd even let you peg him, something he's always refused to do.
just how good you'd look while sliding your strap-on inside of him, his eyes going wide, as well as your smile at the sight of his pretty face. he thinks you'd like some crazy songs playing in the background, similar to the vibe of playboi carti.
fuck, he'd hold onto your tits for support, comfort, for just the fucks of it no matter who is topping.
"um, excuse me?" you asked when he spaced out in the middle.
"yeah?" he said, looking up from the table where both of your milkshakes resided.
"thank you for the interview. i appreciate it a lot!" you said, smiling at him, completely unaware of the junk he had in his brain about you. you put out your hand for a friendly yet professional handshake.
"oh, yeah, of course." he muttered out, responding to your hand with his that was definitely sweaty.
as you closed your notepad and stopped the recording, he looked up at your face finally.
"can I ask you a question too?"
"oh, yes, of course." you said, looking up at him with a face of genuine curiosity. maybe it would be something like —
"when will this be posted?"
"where can I read it?"
"will there be a hardcopy?"
"would you ever fuck me if you could?"
and suddenly, this was the first time you regretted not recording the aftermath of an interview.
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thegoldencontracts · 4 months
Text
Tease
Summary: You flustering twst characters. What's not to love?
Characters: Azul, Jade, Leona
Azul Ashengrotto
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"You're really pretty, you know."
Azul's eyes widened. You just continued staring at him with a fond little grin, giving him a small wave.
"P-Pardon?"
Though you were really just saying your thoughts aloud, you couldn't help but take notice of how his face flushed, eyes looking anywhere but you. It was clear you'd flustered him quite a bit.
Cute.
"I said," you continued. "You're, like, really pretty."
"D-Darling," Azul said with a sigh. "Please refrain from such antics."
You just smirked.
"Hey, I'm being honest!" You were. You also thought it was funny watching him try to hide how embarrassed he was.
Azul just sighed, returning to his work.
"Wait!" You said, waving him over.
An unimpressed, "Yes?"
You pressed a kiss to his cheek, dousing whatever ire he had.
"Thanks!" You said, turning back to your own homework as you watched Azul practically bluescreen in your peripheral.
Jade Leech
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Jade was always quite the tease. That was simply a fact of your relationship, it seemed. Not that you minded.
But, that didn't mean it wasn't sweet when you finally get the chance to tease him back.
"Ah, apologies," he said lightly one day while talking about some of his newest mushrooms. These new ones were all rare, and fascinating, too. How did he even get his hands on them? "I must've frightened you with all this talk of mushrooms."
Eh? That wasn't true at all! It was always awesome listening to Jade talk about his mushrooms. The way he explained things was just fascinating to listen to, and sometimes the facts you learned even helped you during Alchemy!
"Keep going!" You said. "I like hearing you talk."
Besides, he usually wasn't this expressive. There was something so captivating about the way his eyes sparkled whenever he talked about his newest spores, or his new terrariums.
You really didn't expect the way his face turned red at that, eyes blown open in shock.
"Jade?" You said. He cleared his throat hastily.
"A-Apologies," he said, hastily composing himself. "That was rather rude of me. Let us move on."
You gaped at him.
"Are you embarrassed?"
Jade's eye twitched.
"Let us move on from this topic of discussion," he said pointedly.
So he was. No way. Of all people, Jade Leech? Embarrassed about something? It was almost too good to be true!
"No way," you said. "That's so cute-"
"Not a word more about this, please," Jade said, looking awfully meek. You just laughed.
"Sure, sure," you said. "Not a single word more."
Leona Kingscholar
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Leona has an odd habit of helping you in the weirdest of ways. Instead of asking you if you needed help, he'd always just "happen" to have whatever you needed lying around. It pretty quickly became apparent he did it on purpose.
Really, you didn't get why he hid it. You always appreciated the help!
"About that worksheet or whatever you couldn't finish, I found a book about it lying around. Take it if you want."
You checked the book. It was pretty much perfect for what you were doing, filled with small notes too. Leona clearly did this on purpose.
"Thanks!" You said. "Love you!"
Leona stared at you for a moment, before instantly averting his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah," he said. "I..."
He trailed off, seeming rather embarrassed.
"Huh?" You asked. Leona glared at the floor like it had personally offended him.
"What're you gawkin' at, herbivore?"
"You're cute."
Leona scoffed.
"Love you too," he said, before waving you off. "Now go- do whatever it is you were doin'."
You laughed. He looked so embarrassed.
"Of course."
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ssahotchnerr · 3 months
Note
omg please part 2 off wishful thinking it was so good
we make sense, don't we?
thank you my sweet! cw; bau!reader, idiots realized <3, angst if you really squint, aaron pouring his heart out and FLUFF wc; 1k
part one
Saturday night had arrived; the sun was just beginning to sweep below the horizon. As a result, your living room filled with a comforting warm glow, contrasting the restless feeling your body currently held.
The thought had just entered your mind - you should've been getting ready for the date by now - but a sudden knock at your door interrupted your thinking.
Confused, you rose and crossed the threshold of your apartment. You opened the door, revealing none other than Aaron Hotchner.
"Oh," You blurted out, your heart picking up. "It's you."
You've never seen him like this; Aaron ridden with nerves. His eyes were somber, yet on edge. At first glance, they were desperate. His hands were buried within his pockets, and despite his nervousness, he didn't dare pull his eyes away from yours. "Can we talk?"
"Um, of course. Sure." You opened the door slightly more, allowing him the room to enter. "Come on in."
He thanked you with a swift nod, stepping inside. You closed the door, slowly, to fill the tense silence that hung over your heads, both of you figuring out what to say.
"What is it?" You leaned against the wall, crossing your arms across your chest. You were suddenly hyper-aware of your actions; should your arms be crossed, or was at your side better? What did your hair currently look like, after spending a rotting day on the couch, nose buried in a book. You nearly blanched at the thought, hoping you didn't look too horrendous.
However, while you contemplated your unkempt appearance, Aaron thought quite the opposite.
"I wasn't honest with you."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "About-"
"I don't think you should go on that date tonight." He confided earnestly, feeling nearly sick to his stomach at the thought. To be fair, he had felt similarly since the initial conversation on the jet. He could barely eat the past few days, his throat uncomfortably locked with dread. Regret.
Your mouth parted slightly, in surprise. You would've given anything to hear him say those words on the jet. But for now, your eyes only searched his for more.
"It's not my place to dictate what you do, and I'm not here to change your mind either," He honestly said, internally accepting the possibility his impromptu visit was for nothing. That he was truly, too late. "But you asked what I thought."
It took you a second, still soaking in his words, before you nervously queried. "What do you think, then?"
This is when he tore away his gaze - taking a moment to himself - internalizing what was due to be said and finding a sense of composure. He sighed heavily. Here it goes.
"You and me, we work, don't we?" He hadn't realized how frustrated he was until the admission left his mouth - his voice ached. He continued without waiting for an answer, his words flowing freely now that they've grazed the surface. "I don’t know about you, but I can’t pretend anymore. I can't keep pretending that there's nothing going on between us. I don't need to elaborate, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Right?" He took a step towards you. "We make sense."
"Then why haven't you asked me out?" Your voiced twinged too, partially at fault as well. You never initiated anything, either.
The empty hole that maintained home in the middle of his chest seemingly deepened, sadness brimming at the rim. "As cliché as this statement is, it's complicated. I'm complicated. It's... I'm good at shutting people out. You know how I am with the team, others, I prefer it even."
"But then with you... it's addictive almost, you're addictive. I don't know how else to put it. If I'm not near you, I have the utmost desire to be. You make me want to be open and vulnerable and as much as I fear I'd have a negative imprint on you" Like Haley. "I'm sick of allowing that to control my life. So I'm giving in to it, to be with you. If you'd let me, that is."
You blinked up at him, utterly speechless.
"Which, I'm sorry for coming over unannounced. Unfairly at that," An breath escaped from his nose, resisting the urge to clench his jaw in jealousy. "Before Cameron-"
"Actually," You finally found your voice, interrupting him and feeling lighter than ever. "He's not."
His eyebrows furrowed, a stern yet quizzically pull forming on his face. You could've sworn there wasn't a more adorable sight. "What?"
"I called the date off." You shook your head. "I didn't want to go, and the only reason why I even considered it was because I needed the distraction. From you."
There was an instant change in Aaron; his shoulders dropped, his face softened. Relief swept through him, he could breathe again.
"Truth is," You took a breath, bravely moving yourself closer and bringing your hand to his neck. You could feel his heartbeat racing underneath your fingers. "I've longed for you so much. So much it's almost embarrassing." You laughed gently, a faint blush appearing at your cheekbones. "Long story short, I've been holding out for you all along. No one is you. And it wouldn't be fair to James, you, or myself if I went through with it."
"Of course. Of course I feel it." You laughed gently, a sly smile tugging at your lips as your fingertips brushed against his skin. "Guess we've been on the same page all along, huh?"
"We're stupid, aren't we?" He laughed, his head leaning into your touch as your hand rose to cup his cheek.
"Definitely."
Aaron allowed himself to look at you, he wouldn't deprive himself any longer. He was free to fully admire you without the fear of being caught - no limitations. Lovesick.
"Are you just going to stare at me all night?" You quipped, a light tease in your voice and with just an admirable gaze at him in return.
"Maybe," He mumbled back as his smile resurfaced, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "There's something else I'd rather do, in fact."
Your heart skipped a beat, "oh?"
"Can I please kiss you?"
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daisymbin · 20 days
Text
do you still love me? (I still love you) - choi seungcheol
warnings: mentions of insecurity, slight use of profanities, car accident, hospital, mentions of a needle (IV drip) & mention of anxiety attack.
pairing: choi seungcheol x female reader (use of she)
genre: exes to lovers, angst-ish, happy ending
word count: 2.3k
a/n: wanted to write for wonwoo but lollapalooza choi seungcheol won't let me, he is stuck and imprinted on my brain fr. I will do anything for that man....also this fic is loosely inspired by seventeen's happy ending.
requests open!
check out my masterlist!
“what? no! don't call him! are you crazy?” your hands frantically reached out to grab seungkwan at his hand that was holding his phone. “crazy? who's the one being crazy here? I can't believe this happened and you didn't even think to call me, if i hadn't call and asked to hang out I wouldn't even have known you'd gotten into an accident. are YOU crazy?? you just plan on lying on this hospital bed waiting to recover alone??” seungkwan whisper-shouted at you. “seungkwan please we already broke up, I don't want to bother him or give him any more burdens. besides, I don't even know if he will still care and to be honest, I don't want to know. I don't want to find out that he doesn't anymore so just let me live with my what ifs.” it's true, you'd rather not find out that he's moved on and doesn't care anymore than to know for sure that he doesn't care anymore. you don't think you have it in you to bare another heartbreak.
“you do know that he is still madly in love with you and that he asks me about you everyday still right? he is literally going to cuss me out if he finds out you're hurt and I didn't tell him. I don't even know why you broke up with him in the first place, you were both so good together!” seungkwan's words only filled your heart with more regret. you had broken up with seungcheol a little over 2 months ago but you both decided to stay friends for the sake of the boys. you had all been friends for too long, too many years to let them all go. seungkwan has been your best friend for over a decade and so was he with the boys, it was inevitable that you'd run into each other even if you tried to avoid him or them so this was your compromise.
it wasn't decided easily of course. when you first broke up, you had tried your hardest to avoid seungcheol at all costs, if he was going to be at a hangout, dinner or lunch, you would stop yourself from going bu seungcheol was persistent; begging that you'd at least be friends for the sake of the friend group & for his own sake as well, he couldn't stand not being able to see you or hear from you for too long. why the break up? to put it simply: you were insecure but that was just an understatement. every date you went on with him, every time you went out in public with him, pictures would inevitably find its way online. the comments were sweet, well most of them. for the rest? they were not so good & they started to eat at you everyday. you started to feel like you weren't good enough for him & that he could choose anyone and I mean anyone other than you, you just can't help but feel like he was settling for less with you. & slowly, this small insecurity grew so big that you started to distant yourself from him, avoid his hugs, his touches. when seungcheol finally had enough & asked you what was going on, you had decided on a whim to simply lie to him & told him you fell out of love with him.
you still remember the look of hurt that he had on his face that day and it haunts you every night before you close your eyes. almost immediately, you had wanted to take back what you had said, tell him whats really going on, you had so badly wanted to hug him so tight and to kiss the hurt away and yet, you didnt have it in you to continue being less for him when he deserved so much more.
“seungkwan you know why, just stop please just don't call him. it's just a small accident, I'll be fine once my leg heals.” you tried your absolute hardest to assure him, to convince and persuade seungkwan, but he's your best friend afterall. he knows you're not okay. “it's not just a small accident! you literally fractured your foot in a car accident and you have 3 stitches on your arm! you can't walk that's for damn sure, what, are you just going to not let any of our friends visit you for i don't know a few months? and not come to dinner and not expect anyone to ask about you? you know i can't lie for shit.”
“just… just tell them I left the country for a bit. for travelling or something I dont know just make something believable up. Just don't call him, I don't want him to see me like this. god, I look and sound like a loser. I don't want seungcheol to-”
the door to your ward swang open so hard a loud thud rang from the wall. “don't want me to what?” seungcheol asked as he panted; trying to catch his breath. your eyes widen at the sound of his voice, “cheol…what…” it seems for a minute, your brain had shut down., nothing was coming out of your mouth. “h-hyung,” seungkwan who was as shocked as you are, stuttered. “what are you doing here?” seungkwan had voiced his question for you. “y/n's hurt. you're hurt.” seungcheol answers as he looks back at you. seungkwan watched your face, clearly still shocked and struggling, “y/n is fine, she's just-”
“she doesn't look fine with a fucking needle up her arm. why didn't you call me?” you couldn't tell if seungcheol's question was for you or for seungkwan but you decided to speak anyway, “cheol-ah I'm fine, i-i just fell down the stairs.” what a stupid fucking excuse seungkwan thought to himself. what happened to making up something believable??? seungkwan tried to hide his face of unamusement. “you fell down the stairs?” this time seungcheol fixed his squinted eyes on you scrutinisingly. his right eyebrow raised in disbelief and he started walking closer to your hospital bed. while you tried to hide your casted foot out of sight as much as possible. “yeah I just, I tripped over my foot and fell down the stairs, just had a few cuts here and there and some stitches. no biggie.” you tried to sound as lighthearted and careful as much as you could while trying your best to hide the pain from having to move your foot out of sight.
“don't move, god, the hospital called and said you've gotten into a car accident, you still have me as your emergency contact.” oh. oh. well fuck. seungkwan sensed the already existing tension rising rapidly and decided it's best to go, “okaaay I should probably go and let you have some rest-” seungkwan almost feels invisible in the way seungcheol keeps disregarding his words and interrupting him, “why'd you not tell me? is this fun to you? the same way you fell out of love with me and just didn't tell me until I asked? why do I always have to find out things in the worst way possible?” seungcheol knows he's being harsh but he doesnt mean to, he's just so angry and hurt. so much anger in him towards himself for not being better for you. how bad must he have been, how much was he lacking for you to fall out of love with him? is it work? but he did try to make time for you, bringing you out for dates but you would reject those dates, movie dates at home were also always getting cut short, you no longer wanted to fall asleep on him shoulder or lap, you just went your way to the bedroom after announcing you're tired even before the halfway mark of the movie. was he doing something wrong? there's so much he still hasn't gotten the chance to ask you before you walked out on him.
and now seungkwan, seungkwan was a lot of things but patience? that man has very limited patience and he definitely doesn't have patience for the way seungcheol is speaking to you now. he has had enough of you running away from seungcheol when you still clearly have feelings for him. “hyung,” seungkwan reached for seungcheol's wrist, trying to get his attention. “come with me.” he started tugging and pulling at seungcheol's arm, dragging him out the ward. “she got into a car accident because she was having an anxiety attack because our song was playing on the car radio…your voice.. anyway…she's still in love with you.” seungkwan let out a deep breath he didnt know he was holding, he watches as seungcheol's eyes widen and dilate in shock, “im not trying to butt in your relationship with her or take her side but…just go easy on her. she's- just talk to her, give her some time, she'll open up to you again. you know what she's like when she wants to be stubborn. I'm going to get going, tell her bye for me.”
for the next 5 minutes, seungcheol stood by the door with his back slumped against the wall, replaying the words seungkwan had said to him. you still love him? you're still in love with him? how? but didn't you… didn't you tell him you don't anymore? if you still love him, why did you say that? he gently opened the door to your ward this time, making his way to you. he pulled the vacant chair closer to your bed before taking a seat, “cheol-ah, you don't have to stay here, i was just about to get some sleep anyway, im good on my own. I know you're busy-” “do you still love me?” the room turned so silent you swear you could hear if a pin were to drop on the floor. when you said nothing, he continued, “I have so many questions but i-i just need to know if you still love me... do you know how much I missed you?” tears you were so badly trying to hold back only cascaded down your cheeks, betraying you. both his hands come up to cup your delicate face inbetween his hands, both his thumbs working to wipe your tears away, “don't cry, pretty. you're breaking my heart.” his own voice cracks and his own tears starts showing themself around his brown orbs but you watch as he blinks them away. “tell me you love me." he whispered so quietly, your head now facing down, eyes closed as you start sobbing. “i can't cheol…if I tell you, if I tell you I love you I don't think I can let you go again.” the room fills itself with the sound of your sniffing and crying.
“you don't have to let me go, just tell me you love me and I won't let go of you, not again.” he placed a gentle kiss at the top of your head, bringing your face to his chest as he hugs you silently. “but cheol,” seungcheol doesn't think he can take it anymore if he hears you call him cheol one more time, he's growing putty and puttier in your presence. “yes, sweetheart?” he asked as he started stroking your hair. “im nobody and you're…you. we’re so different and we’re of two different worlds. you're doing so good in life and you're so handsome and im just…” his heart only breaks further at your words, “you're beautiful. you're the most beautiful person my eyes has ever laid on. you have always been beautiful to me and you still are. & we’re not that different, my love, even if we are, isn't that what we both love about us? so different yet so similar. you have qualities I lack and we compliment each other so well, no?” seungcheol pulled away slightly only to look into the eyes he had missed so much. “if there's somewhere or something im lacking at, tell me so I can be better for you.” he assured you again. “you're not lacking at anything at all cheol.” seungcheol notes how this is the loudest and clearest you've spoken since he's gotten here and he doesn't miss a beat when he says “you're not lacking either, you're doing so good my love. I wouldn't change anything about you, you know that? I love you just as you are, everything about you, I love you at your best and I love you just the same at your worst times. you just need to let me in when you have bad thoughts, let me love and reassure you hm? can you do that for me?” he asked as he patted at your head gently again. you had merely nodded lightly & said “im sorry cheol.” with more tears running down your cheeks before he spoke again, “it's not your fault, princess. I'm sorry I didn't notice it back then, it's my fault. I'm sorry.” a light peck of a chaste kiss placed on your cheek as you shook your head in disagreement, “it’s not your fault cheol.” cheol cheol cheol he couldn't take it anymore; bringing your face closer to his, he looks into your eyes again, asking for permission, at the small nod of your head, you fluttered your eyes close and he wasted no time in bringing his lips to yours gently, afraid of hurting you. his heart overwhelms in love for you, lips and tongue exploring each other in lost familiarity, oh how much you both missed each other.
“you still haven't answered me, princess.” another kiss to your forehead this time, “do you still love me?” his eyes searched yours again, looking for a hint of anything. you caught him by surprise when you pulled him in for another kiss, “I still love you. I love you, cheol, so much."
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elenadvrx · 8 months
Text
"princess, come on. i'm really sorry."
suna rintarou likes to play pranks on you. but this time, it went too far.
"no, suna. i don't want to talk to you." with a frown on your face and your arms crossed, you faced away from his general direction.
"suna?" he chuckled nervously, knowing you were really upset if you refused to call him 'rin' or 'baby'. "princess, i'm really sorry for doing that to you. i promise to not do that again, okay?" he tilted his head to try to get you to look at him.
a few days ago, you came home from work and wanted to cuddle with your boyfriend because you had a bad day at work. things weren't going as well as you hoped so you were looking forward to get some comfort in his arms. your heart ached when your silent request for cuddles were rejected but you brushed it off thinking that maybe he wasn't in the mood for it.
until the same thing happened the next day and the day after. whenever you initiated hugs or kisses, suna grunted and moved away, focusing on whatever was on his phone. not knowing what to do, you sat on the sofa and watched tv while suna continued to type away on his phone on the other end of the sofa. then, his phone rang and he answered the call.
"yeah, himeko? you need help? sure, i'll come over in a few." himeko. isn't she the one who was always fawning around suna?
before you could grasp what was happening, suna was already putting on his shoes. panicking, you rushed over towards him, "rin? where are you going?"
"hmm? i'm heading to himeko's. apparently she needs help with some stuff." to be honest, seeing the crestfallen expression on your face with those beady eyes, he hesitated to continue this prank but chose to press on. (tsk the ego)
"oh… okay." you hesitantly smile at suna, watching him leave through the door of your shared home.
when the door click shut, you stood at the same spot for what felt like an eternity before deciding to go back to sit on the sofa. millions of thoughts went through your mind, thinking about all the posibilities on what you may have done for him to have ignored you for three days but left immediately when another girl called for him.
what if he was tired of you? what if… he decided that himeko was actually so much better than you and was slowly distancing himself from you to prepare you for the eventual breakup? what if-
"princess, baby, i can't do it!" suna rushed through the door and head over to you to start explaining.
after a few minutes, he stopped talking and looked at you. he waited with bated breath for your scolding and beatings but none came.
which brings us back to the present.
facing away from him, your eyes started watering and your lips quiver. just a moment ago you were scared and anxious because you thought he was done with you, running away to be with another girl. and you never got that comfort from him since three days ago so all your feelings and emotions were pent up till now.
"princess? please, talk to me?" he spoke softly, so softly as if a glass would shatter if he were to speak any louder.
you hear hesitant patters of feet until suna's figure came into your peripheral, kneeling down before you and gently cupping your chin to make you face him instead. touch starved, his gentle touch made a tear run down your cheek, then down his hand.
"oh princess, i'm so sorry" suna's focused gaze on you got you crying and sobbing as you dove straight to his arms (which he let out an 'oomph' sound from the sudden impact), hiding your face on his chest.
feeling petty, you started punching his chest lightly but slowly start hitting him straight on with both your fists and palms, crying at the same time.
"ow ow! okay, yeah i deserve that but baby, could you hit me a little softer?" he chuckles trying to get a hold of your flailing arms. just as he got a hold on you, you immediately retracted your arms to cover your face.
"you're so mean! i really thought you were about to leave me and that you don't love me anymore!" more tears started trickling down before you could stop them. "i had a really bad day and all i wanted was to cuddle with you…" you started hicupping, emotions all over the place.
"hey, stop baby, i will always love you and i will never leave you, okay? i'm so stupid, gosh, i give you hitting privileges all you want. here, let me hit myself too." he hit himself on his head but winced when he did it too hard, rubbing the sore part.
chuckling a little at the sight, you started to calm down. "don't hit yourself, only i can hit you." you reached out to his head to help dissipate the soreness too.
grabbing your hand, suna softly kisses your inner wrist before releasing it to palm your face and start peppering kisses all over it, with soft "i love you"s in between. he gave a last kiss on your lips before releasing a soft sigh against it.
"i'm sorry, princess." he plopped his forehead to rest on your shoulder before tightly wrapping his arms around your waist.
"mm, you're forgiven. but do something stupid like this again and i'll leave your ass immediately." you reciprocate his embrace, one hand wrapping around his shoulder while the other slowly stroke his hair.
"fair. just know that i love you too much to let you leave me heh." placing a kiss on your neck, he retreated before lifting you up from the sofa to carry you to the bedroom.
"now, let's get the cuddles that you wanted and you tell me what happened at work. alright, princess?"
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gubsbuubs · 9 months
Text
Trophy wife
Pt. 2 is out - It´s Mutual
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~ 4.5K
Warnings: Typical case descriptions, kissing and petting, enemies to lovers, a set up for a smut. Summary: When an unsub targets trophy wives, (Y/N) is asked to go undercover with her nemesis, Spencer Reid, posing as a couple to lure the killer. As they navigate a high-stakes operation, tensions escalate, blurring the lines between their professional and personal animosity.
Preview: "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “And I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."
A/N: Hi everyone, this is my first-ever fanfiction. I initially wanted to write smut, but to add depth, I decided to craft this background story. English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒
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“Are those poker chips?” Derek asked as the images from the most recent crime scene appeared on the screen behind Garcia.
"Bingo, my lucky charm! Those are poker chips, and you've hit the jackpot," Garcia continued. “This is the second woman to be found in a motel room stabbed and extremely beaten in the last two weeks.”
“The Vegas police have requested our help,” Hotch informed as he analyzed the pictures.
Ross quirked up his eyebrows as an amused smile played on his lips. "Well, either he really likes poker, or he's on a mission to prove that crime can be a high-stakes game…"
"Well, he's certainly raising the stakes in our investigation," I added, my remark eliciting another round of chuckles.
"Children, behave, please," JJ attempted to redirect the team's focus to the situation at hand.
As I scanned the pictures, my index finger reached above the image on the table. "The persistent appearance of poker chips as a signature strongly suggests a connection to the unsub’s personal experiences, perhaps indicating a deep involvement with poker, possibly even as a player. Maybe…”
“While symbolism is intriguing, we should prioritize empirical evidence. Jumping to conclusions based on perceived patterns might lead us astray." My brows furrowed in annoyance as I turned my head, hearing him cut off my train of thought. His tone carried a subtle bitterness, as if questioning the validity of my analysis.
And there he fucking was again, Dr. Spencer Reid, incessantly questioning my every move, as if my mere presence irked him to no end.
Our "relationship," if you could really call it that, was basically just a constant back-and-forth of arguing, interruptions, and tension you could practically cut with a knife. We tried to keep it professional for the team's sake, but it was obvious we weren't exactly best buds.
And what kept his skepticism going wasn't just about work competition; it was personal. He had this lingering grudge because I had stepped in after his buddy, Alex Blake, bailed on the BAU, leaving him behind.
To be honest, his animosity seemed mostly one-sided. At first, I admired Spencer's intellect and respected his dedication to the job. Plus, let's be real, I wasn't blind—I definitely noticed he was a good-looking guy. But his hostility kind of pushed me to throw up walls and respond with a guarded attitude. And then, well, naturally, I found some twisted enjoyment in getting under his skin and making him lose his cool.
"How can you have an IQ of 182 and yet be so clueless?" I scoffed, laughing. "Sure, you're intelligent, but common sense seems to elude you at times."
Reid stared for a moment, a mix of shock and rage flickering across his otherwise monotone, expressionless face. His eyes narrowed, and he responded curtly, "It's 187, and (Y/N), I would advise you to mind your manners when addressing me. My intelligence surpasses yours by far more than a number could explain." As he stood there, staring into my eyes, arms crossed by the presentation board, a surge of irritation pulsed through me. I was poised to respond, the words itching at the tip of my tongue, but before I could unleash them, Derek intervened. With a subtle shift in his posture, he leaned in towards the table, effectively redirecting our focus. A deliberate clearing of his throat signaled the shift in conversation. "The sheer brutality of these killings unmistakably points to an unsub fueled by intense rage. The way the victims were forcefully and repeatedly stabbed suggests a perpetrator with considerable physical strength and stamina.”
"The messy and disorganized scene adds another layer to the unsub's profile. Women just tend to be cleaner, so we are definitely dealing with a man,” JJ added.
“They are waiting for us, we can discuss the rest of the preliminary profile on the jet, wheels up in thirty,” Hotch said as he stood up, the team following right after.
--x--
As I focused on the files spread out in front of me, the sound of the door swinging open abruptly pulled my attention away. "We've got another body," Hotch announced, his voice cutting through the silence that lingered in the small meeting room lent to us by the Las Vegas police.
By now, we had successfully linked the unsub to the world of poker. Our victims, all married, had been last seen with their partners at casinos during poker nights, forming a clear pattern. Despite our breakthroughs, the mystery surrounding his identity and motive remained unsolved.
"Rebecca Miller, 29 years old, was last seen with her husband at Riverside Casino," Hotch added, his tone steady as he placed the picture of the victim on the board. "Witnesses report they were very affectionate. Her husband mentioned she went to get them drinks before she disappeared," he continued, his gaze scanning the room, inviting any additional insights or comments from the team.
"She definitely fits the victimology—young, beautiful, and married to an avid poker player," JJ remarked casually as she got up to take a closer look at the picture.
Rossi gazed into the distance, lost in thought. "They must be raking in serious cash playing poker. Why else would these stunners be tying the knot with someone clearly out of their league?" he mused aloud.
As I scanned the pictures of the victims, a realization began to form in my mind. Each photograph depicted a strikingly beautiful woman, always beside her husband, who often appeared much older or less attractive in comparison. "They're trophy wives," I exclaimed, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.
I glanced to my left, where Reid stood, scoffing and shaking his head. "Trophy wives?" he immediately questioned, his focus remaining fixed on the board as he continued drawing lines for the geographical profile.
"Well, think about it," I elaborated, gesturing toward the pictures of the women. "These women, young and beautiful, carefully curated for a certain image, accompanying their husbands to the poker games, spending the entire night all over them. How had we not seen this glaring pattern before?"
"That's a rather simplistic and uninformed view, (Y/LN)," he countered. "These women had successful careers. Assuming they're merely trophy wives diminishes their individuality."
"Just because they have successful careers doesn't negate the potential of being used as accessories," I countered, locking eyes with Reid as he turned to face me. "It's not about undermining their achievements but acknowledging the potential for a specific dynamic in their relationships. We need to explore all possibilities, not just those that fit neatly into your rational worldview."
"Acknowledging possibilities is one thing, but chasing baseless theories is another," Reid retorted, his tone measured. "We can't afford to indulge in wild conjectures without solid evidence."
"Sometimes you're so buried in your 'facts' that you miss the human element of the cases," I remarked, chuckling dismissively as I shook my head to the side.
"It's called objectivity, (Y/LN)," he asserted, stepping closer until he stood before me, his hands slipping into his pockets in a gesture of dominance. "Something you might want to consider before letting personal biases cloud your judgment."
"I'm the one who lets personal biases cloud my judgment?!" I retorted, my voice rising as frustration bubbled up within me.
He remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"You've got to be kidding me," I continued, my tone escalating gradually. "You're the one who's been acting like a little bitch to me since I joined the team, so don't lecture me about taking things personally here."
Still, he said nothing, his hands now clenched into fists at his sides.
"You've had a problem with me from day one," I pressed on, "and it's about damn time you admit it instead of acting like such a child about it."
"This is about doing our job objectively," Reid retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. "Your presence doesn't change the standards we uphold in the BAU, but clearly you don’t meet them."
"That's enough!" Hotch's voice boomed, commanding attention as he intervened. His gaze shifted from Reid to me, a subtle warning in his eyes. "I think we should explore that possibility," he acknowledged, nodding towards my earlier suggestion. "It seems reasonable. Apart from that, are there any more leads we need to consider?"
Spencer turned on his feet, his movements purposeful as he approached the board. "Actually, I've been working on the geographical profile," he began "And it seems that, looking at the last victim’s place of abduction, he is moving in a straight line." With a marker in hand, he started drawing on the board, "Look at this: the first victim was last seen at the Lotus Casino Central, the second victim at the Charlaton, and now Rebecca at the Riverside. It's a straight line, which means..."
"He's heading for the Bellagio next," JJ chimed in, seamlessly connecting the dots of Spencer's thoughts. Spencer nodded in confirmation, acknowledging her insight.
Rossi rose from his seat and joined Spencer by the board. "Now that we know where he's likely to strike next, perhaps we can set up an operation to catch him; he’s been striking on poker nights."
Hotch leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he considered the strategy. After a moment of contemplation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the team. "Yes, an undercover op might be our next chance." His gaze fell on me, lingering for a moment as he addressed me directly. "Y/n," he began,"You have experience as an undercover agent, and you actually resemble the victims," he observed, "Would you mind going in?" The room fell silent as the weight of the proposition settled among us.
"Yeah… sure," I responded quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Derek immediately sensed my apprehension and offered reassurance with a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "You're not going in alone. It has to be a couple, so you'll have someone to have your back."
"Can you come with me?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and hope.
"Actually," Hotch interrupted, straightening in his chair, "I want Reid to go with you." My head fell into my hands as I sighed, dreading the complications that might arise. The weight of Hotch's decision settled heavily on my shoulders, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of partnering with Reid for this undercover operation.
"Sir, with due respect," Spencer began, but Hotch raised his hand to stop him from continuing.
"(Y/N) needs a poker player husband; you’re the only one who could actually pass as an avid poker player," Hotch explained simply, as if it were that straightforward. "I trust you can both behave professionally and put your differences aside?" His tone sounded more like an order than a question.
"Let's get to work then," Rossi said, his tone decisive, as I let my head rest on the table. It dawned on me that this was the only option to ever catch this guy.
--x--
JJ pulled out all the strings, ensuring we had everything necessary to play our roles seamlessly. With meticulous attention to detail, she provided a stunning black dress that hugged my curves perfectly, matching pumps that elongated my legs, and exquisite jewelry that added a touch of elegance to the ensemble. Among the glittering gems, she placed an engagement ring and wedding band, enhancing the authenticity of our charade.
As I admired my reflection in the mirror, a wave of mixed emotions washed over me. The thought of spending the upcoming night with Spencer made my heart race, a strange feeling stirring within me.
My mind constantly drifted towards the way we were supposed to behave, thoughts swirling with anticipation. I imagined his touch, knowing that as a couple, he would have to be close, his hands possibly lingering on my body. How would it feel? Would I be able to maintain eye contact as he stared me down during our conversations?
I sighed heavily, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Despite this being an undercover mission, it felt strangely intimate, as if I was gearing up for a date with him. The prospect of going out and spending time with Spencer was something I'd never experienced before, and it left me feeling nervous, even though I couldn't quite admit it to myself.
Maybe if things hadn't unfolded as they did, Spencer and I could've found common ground. Perhaps we could've forged a genuine connection, evolving into friends, or even something more meaningful. But fate had a different plan for us.
From the moment we crossed paths, our destinies seemed entwined in conflict rather than harmony, and I remember the day I met him all too well. We had just finished the tour, and Derek was now showing me to my desk.The ding of the elevator caught my attention, and there he stood. I've heard of Dr. Reid, everyone talked about him – his genius IQ of 187, his remarkable accomplishments at such a young age. But amidst all the praise for his intellect, no one ever mentioned how good-looking he actually was.
"Pretty boy," Derek exclaimed with a grin as he welcomed him. I couldn't help but agree silently. It was indeed a fitting nickname, Spencer was undeniably attractive. "Come meet our new member, Y/n Y/Ln."
With a smile I reached out my hand instinctively, ready to greet him, but to my surprise, he took a light step back. "Sorry, I don't shake hands," he said dismissively, his tone somewhat curt. "Did you know that the average person carries about 4,000 bacteria on their hands? It's a breeding ground for germs. It's actually safer to touch a toilet seat."
I stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Did he genuinely suggest that touching a toilet seat is cleaner than shaking my hand? "You really know how to make a girl feel special, Agent Reid," I retorted, rolling my eyes as Derek chuckled at the situation.
"It's Doctor, not Agent," he corrected, his tone matter-of-fact as he swiftly made his way to his desk. My mind raced, attempting to conjure a response, but he had already moved on, leaving me standing there, still processing what had just happend.
"Are you ready, or should I tell the unsub to wait because you need to keep fixing your lipstick?" a voice spoke from the darkness of my room.
“Jesus fucking Christ Reid, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I jumped from my place, surprised to see him standing there, leaning on the frame of my bathroom door. "No one ever taught you how to knock on a door?" I muttered under my breath.
"First of all, your door was unlocked, and second of all," he shook his head disapprovingly. "That's a very foul mouth you have, you should really watch your tongue," he chided. I felt his gaze lingering appreciatively on how the dress hugged my curves and accentuated my breasts.
From the corner of my eye, I lightly took in his appearance. The tailored suit fit him like a glove, different from what he wore every day. He looked more relaxed, better, hotter.
I was taken aback when I saw him move and enter the bathroom. My heart started racing as he stood by my side, exchanging a glance with me in the mirror.
"Honestly?I don't think he'd mind waiting for me” I straightened up, finally satisfied with my lipstick.
"Too bad he won't get to see it," he said, chuckling. His left hand met my hip, swiftly turning me around, and I gasped as the small of my back hit the bathroom counter. His own body caged me in, his intense gaze never leaving mine as I looked at him, confused yet strangely drawn to him. His right hand reached for a wipe, and he gently cleared any remnants of the red lipstick. I felt the cold, wet cloth on my lips, erasing any traces of the vivid stain. "If we're going to act like a couple, I don't want your lipstick all over me," Spencer remarked dryly, his expression unamused. "It's not my fault you don't know how to kiss a girl with lipstick, Doctor," I retorted, my annoyance evident in my tone.
"You look good enough," Spencer remarked with a smirk. "I'll be waiting for you in the car." With that, he turned and headed out, leaving me to gather my thoughts before joining him. "Well, this is going to be a long night," I sighed.
--x--
As Spencer drove us to the casino, we found ourselves going over the details of the plan. It was simple; our initial objective was to seamlessly integrate into the casino's scene, mirroring the couples we were emulating.
The plan dictated that Spencer and I had to project the image of a couple deeply in love, sharing glances, engaging in affectionate gestures, and creating an atmosphere that would draw the unsub's attention. Spencer would transition to the poker tables, just as the husbands of the previous victims had, all while showcasing his "trophy wife."
As the night progressed, I would strategically separate from Spencer to lure the unsub into action.
Inside the casino, Rossi and Morgan were playing their part as players, keeping an eye out. The rest of the team was in a van, ready to jump in if things went south.
The objective was clear – act like a couple. How hard could that be?
The tension in the car was palpable, and we exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the complexity of our roles. The success of the operation hinged on our ability to draw the unsub's attention, making him believe we were just another couple enjoying a night out.
The atmosphere in the casino buzzed with energy as Spencer and I entered. The dim lights, the soft murmur of conversations, and the distant chiming of slot machines created a captivating ambiance.
As we made our way to the bar, I reached for Spencer's hand and intertwined my fingers with his.
His eyebrows immediately shot up, a silent question evident in his expression as he glanced at me, perhaps surprised by the sudden display of affection.
"The more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention," I replied, my voice hushed but determined.
His gaze flickerd between our intertwined hands and my face. "Yeah," a small grin playing on his lips. "Just make sure you don't take it too far and end up falling for me."
"That's a good one, Dr. Reid," I chuckled softly, a hint of sarcasm lacing my words. "I'll try to contain myself."
We approached the bar, and Spencer took a seat on a stool. As I moved to stand by his side, he surprised me by pulling me closer, guiding me between his legs. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me snug against him. I was taken aback, but I didn't say a word. Acting like a couple—that was the plan. It was just all part of the plan.
"So what should I call you?" Spencer cut through our silence, his gaze focused on mine. "What should you call me?" I echoed, my voice filled with confusion as I furrowed my brows.
"I'm not going to address you by your real name," Spencer said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We need undercover names. So, what's it going to be?"
His eyes scanned my features, awaiting my response, while I took a moment to ponder. "How about pretty girl?" he proposed with a smirk, his gaze lingering on me. My expression must have betrayed my surprise, but before I could respond, he continued, "Or how about Angel?" The endearing term rolled off his tongue, and I felt a flutter in my chest at the sound.
"Angel seems to resonate with you," he teased, a chuckle escaping his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he awaited my reaction. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks, rendering me momentarily speechless.
I closed my eyes, disbelief washing over me. Was this real? Was Spencer really saying these things to me? And during a mission, no less?
"You seem awfully quiet for someone who doesn't know how to shut the fuck up," he said, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. "If I'd known all I had to do was call you angel, I would've done it sooner."
"Sweet names will only get you so far," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Despite the warmth spreading through me at his words, I couldn't shake off the sense of disbelief at the way he was acting. "Oh yeah?" Spencer asked, his tone amused, as I felt his breath tickling my neck before his lips brushed against my skin, leaving a small kiss on my pulse point. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart pounded in my chest as he slowly moved his hands along my waist and lower back. I couldn't focus on anything but the warmth of his body pressed against mine, sending shivers down my spine.
"Doctor Reid, this is highly inappropriate," I managed to utter.
“On the contrary, my sweet Angel," he spoke softly as his small kisses traveled up my neck. "See, this mission requires us to act like a couple, so I'm simply enjoying my time with my wife,” he lightly chuckled as he reached my jawline. “As you said, the more convincing we are, the more it'll attract the unsub's attention”
Suddenly, Hotch's voice disrupted the moment as he barked over the wire in my ear, "Guys, great job. We've got a male in his late 30s to early 40s staring at you; he's moved closer since you arrived. He could be our unsub."
I heard Hotch's words, but my brain struggled to process them as I was too focused on Spencer's eyes, his gaze fixed on mine while his hands lightly pressed me closer.
"Come on, Angel, let's give him a show," Spencer pleaded, his voice laced with a confidence that both shocked and intrigued me. It was unexpected to witness this side of him, but there was something undeniably exciting about it. Perhaps it was his confidence and assertiveness, or maybe it was the way he was taking control and leading the interaction. "Yeah.... let´s.... let´s do it" I lightly nodded my head, I swear he could feel the pounding of my heart against my chest from how close he stood to me.
His right hand reached my face, his touch gentle against my skin. "Angel," he spoke quietly against my lips, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll only keep going if you give me permission."
His eyes were dark, his lips plump, inviting, calling for my attention. I couldn't even form a "yes," but he knew what I wanted. I pulled him closer by his tie, and our lips collided in a hot, messy kiss. I was taken aback by his skill and technique, completely unable to resist him as the heat between us intensified.
Spencer pulled away and wrapped his arms around my body, embracing me in a hug. His warmth was comforting, and I felt a sense of security in his embrace. "He's standing right behind you, gray suit, red tie, black hair," he whispered in my ear, his voice low enough not to be noticed by anyone standing nearby. Suddenly, I was snapped back to reality. The mission. The unsub. He was standing right behind me
"Should we join them?" I asked softly, glancing over toward the tables of poker and motioning for Spencer to start playing, continuing with the plan. He was supposed to hit the games, and I needed to find a way to get myself alone.
"Absolutely, my love," Spencer said with a smile as he rose from his seat.
Still a little dazed from that kiss, my mind was on fire, and my panties were ruined. How was I supposed to continue my life after knowing the effect Spencer had on me? My racing thoughts were only interrupted by the sight of the suspect following us to the tables. Instinctively, my body reacted, and I found myself clinging to Spencer's arm, seeking comfort and reassurance in his presence.
As planned, Spencer sat down at the closest table and began playing, our actions subtly conveying intimacy to onlookers. I wrapped my arms around his neck, planting kisses occasionally, making it clear to everyone that I was his prize, and he was proudly showing me off as his trophy wife.
As he played, I showered him with praise and encouragement. "You're doing so well, baby," I whispered, my words laced with admiration. It was evident that he was enjoying the attention, his gameplay slightly faltering under the distraction of my praise. Despite being a skilled and experienced player, known for his prowess and banned from multiple casinos, he seemed momentarily thrown off his rhythm by my words of encouragement. It was a small victory, a slight advantage gained in my favour.
Feeling the need to draw the unsub away, I leaned in close to Spencer and murmured, "I'm going to step out for some fresh air on the balcony, honey. I'll be back soon."
Spencer nodded, his attention still on the cards. "Okay, sweetheart," he replied with a smile, not once lifting his gaze.
Before I turned to leave, I couldn't resist the urge to plant a quick kiss on his lips, just as part of the plan, playing my role as the devoted wife. After all, that's what a wife would do, right?
The fresh air hit my face, sending shivers down my arms. I didn't need to turn to know he had followed me outside; I could feel his presence on my right side. When I glanced over, he gestured to a drink in his hand, offering it to me. "You look like you could use a drink," he said.
My heart raced, and my breathing quickened as he got closer, but I kept a cool, confident attitude, determined not to let him see my nerves.
"(Y/N), don't drink that. It's laced," Morgan's urgent voice snapped through the wire, jolting me into alertness. "Just keep him talking so Garcia can check him."
My blood ran cold as I registered Morgan's warning. Without missing a beat, I forced a smile and nodded, "Thank you, handsome, but I've had enough tonight," I replied smoothly, declining the drink with a casual wave of my hand.
"That's a big rock on your finger," he pointed out, glancing at my, unknowingly, fake engagement ring. "Why are you here all alone? Where's your husband?" he continued, raising an eyebrow and asking the question directly, as if he didn't already know the answer.
"Well…" I laughed, injecting a flirtatious edge into my voice. "I could ask the same thing," I continued, "Where is Mrs…?"
"Mrs. Desmond? She stayed at home; she doesn't really like poker," he replied nonchalantly. "I'm Steve, by the way," he added, reaching out to shake my hand.
I shook his hand, my heart quickening as I heard Garcia speak from my wire: "Steve Desmond, a 39-year-old banker, is divorced; according to court files, his wife left him after he lost all of their money on poker.” The sound of clicking keyboards could be heard in the background. "The divorce dates coincide with the killings,” Garcia added.
“That sounds like a trigger,” Hotch's voice chimed in.
"Holy moly, he also assaulted a prostitute a couple of years ago, but the charges were dropped and he was never convicted," Garcia spoke nervously.
"That's our guy, (Y/N). Keep him talking; we're on our way,” Hotch said, his voice steady and authoritative.
"Is everything okay?" Steve spoke, his tone taking on a hint of aggression as he grabbed my attention. "Maybe you should take that drink."
“I'm not thirsty, thanks,” I replied firmly, stepping back in an attempt to keep my distance. However, he refused, reaching out and gripping my arm to keep me from moving.
"I'm telling you," he said angrily, his grip tightening. "You're clearly nervous. Just a tiny sip won't hurt." I tried to break free of his grasp, but he was stronger than me and refused to let go
"FBI!" Suddenly, I saw Spencer coming up behind him, his fist connecting with the guy's face with a solid punch, knocking him back into the wall. He was strong and quick; the unsub didn't stand a chance against him. Spencer swiftly pulled out his handcuffs, cuffing him without even breaking a sweat.
"Steve Desmond, you're under arrest for the killings of Amanda Crane, Juliet Sand, and Rebecca Miller,” Spencer announced, his voice firm and authoritative.
Morgan and Rossi soon appeared, Morgan helping the unsub up from the ground and carrying him out as he spoke, "Steve Desmond, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to an attorney for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford it…” His voice faded as they left, escorting the suspect away from the scene.
Once they were out of sight, Spencer came up to me and reached for my arm, his expression filled with concern. I winced as he touched the red marks left behind by the unsub's grip.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern and care, his eyes searching mine for any sign of distress.
"Um, yeah…" I replied softly, my voice shaky. "I just need a moment to process this." My heart was still racing from the encounter, and I needed a moment to collect myself. Why did he step in like that? I thought to myself, a mixture of gratitude and confusion washed over me. I could've handled the situation on my own—I was trained for this, after all. Yet, there he was, interfering in my work.
After the quiet ride back to the motel, Spencer led me to the door of my room. As we stood there, I realized I could no longer contain the annoyance for how he had handled the situation. The tension of the evening had been building inside me, and I needed to let it out. "Spencer," I began, my voice tinged with frustration. "I appreciate that you were trying to help, but I had it under control. I didn't need you to intervene so quickly," the frustration bubbled inside me, I couldn't help but wonder why Spencer felt the need to intervene. I felt like I had done a great job handling the situation, and his actions made me feel as though he had robbed me of an opportunity to take down the unsub myself.
Spencer's eyes widened in shock as he opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, really?" he said incredulously. "I didn't realize you had everything under control. I just figured that the guy having his hands all over you and aggressively grabbing your arm was cause for concern. But clearly, you didn't need any help."
"Oh, right, because clearly, I was in so much danger," I snapped sarcastically.
"I'm not going to sit around and watch some creepy-as-hell psychopath put his hands all over you," Spencer said firmly, shaking his head in disbelief. His brows furrowed in concern, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and genuine worry. "I won't let him put you at risk of being hurt … or worse." His tone was sharp "Get it through your head; I'm not going to let that happen."
"Oh, right, I wasn't aware this situation called for a 'white knight' to swoop in and save me from myself," I retorted, my tone laced with bitterness. Crossing my arms defensively, I met his gaze head-on. "Since when did my safety become your problem?"
"Since the moment we met, you stubborn brat," Spencer snapped back, his frustration evident in his tone.
"Since the moment we met? That's so much bullshit," I shot back, my voice rising with indignation. "Since when did you care about my safety so much?" I challenged him, my eyes narrowing in disbelief. "You've never shown me any compassion before, so why now? Hun?"
And then, suddenly, his lips crashed against mine, his body pressing mine firmly against the door with a resounding thud. I felt the heat of his body press on mine, the tension that had been building between us explode in an instant.
His kiss was messy and sloppy, but damn, it was hot. There was an urgency in the way our lips crashed together, fueled by a raw desire that couldn't be tamed. As the kiss deepened, the air grew thin, and I felt myself getting breathless. With a gasp, I had to pull away,
“What the fuck was that about?” I whispered, not being able to back away from his hold.
"When I kissed you at the casino, I finally understood," he muttered, his forehead resting against mine. "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."
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scudslut · 8 months
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ahhh yes yes, I haven’t written him too subby on here yet so I was super excited to write this❤️ I hope you like it @darylsgirl23 <3
Heartsease
Daryl x f!reader
Setting: Bridge Camp/Post Savior War
Wordcount: 2.6k
Warnings: 18+, softdom reader, unestablished relationship (but both know there’s a little somethin somethin iykwim), aka your his and everyone knows it, oral (m - receiving), unprotected piv, premature finish
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Daryl was never one to keep still.
It made him anxious to be in one place for too long, always going on runs and patrols ensuring his people were as safe and provided for as they could be. He felt at ease outside the walls, out of people's prying gazes, and left alone to do his part for the community in peace. These days though, he was a flurry of activity. Hardly ever in the same spot long enough to see the sun rise and set again.
You knew he felt guilty - that he was angry and didn't know how to release it. You'd watch him work on the bridge for hours, frustration seeping out of his bones and into the atmosphere around him. It hung off him like a phantom.
The vast majority of the community was intimidated by it. They would walk on eggshells in his presence as if they could predict an oncoming outburst. But you knew better, you knew him.
He was angry at the world, yes. But he was distraught with himself... his own mind. It ran a mile a minute and gave absolutely zero reprieve. Anyone could see that if they dug just a bit deeper, looked at him a little closer.
Sure he was strong and burly; a true beast of a man, but he was also quiet and thoughtful. He cared so deeply about others that it frightened him to his core. All he wanted was to protect his family and do right by them.
And you saw all of that.
You had for years now and it only made your desire for him stronger. You wanted to thank him. Drop down to your knees and worship every freckle and scar that made him, him. He deserved it, deserved an escape.
Initially, you thought maybe he wasn't into that and preferred to keep his relationships asexual, to which you were perfectly happy to abide by. Any time spent with him was cherished time in your eyes. But during a sleep-deprived chat with Carol one night on patrol, long ago, you had found out he did have a few sexual encounters before the apocalypse. Just none that had truly meant much to him, or that he was entirely sober for.
That small bit of insight helped you understand the man so much more and you carefully dropped your hints from that point on. However, with your luck, every time you thought something might happen between you two, the moment would slip right through your aching fingers, dusted away by whatever imminent danger lurked behind each corner.
To be quite honest, you were getting fed up with the world's continuous cruel jokes, and from the looks of things, Daryl could use a healthy distraction right about now.
Ears perking at the familiar rumble you'd grown to love, you watched as he pulled up on his trusty, beaten-up Nighthawk, finally returning from a longer visit at Hilltop. You could see the sheen layer of sweat built up above his furrowed brows, his teeth nibbling away at his lower lip - an anxious habit you had picked up on mere days after meeting him.
His mind was bothering him. That much was clear.
He shuffled quickly to his tent, gaze transfixed on the muddy shoes he wore, avoiding any onlookers who wanted to ask their silly questions, throwing the flaps open, and disappearing in a fluster.
You knew better than to bother him now, give him some time to gather his thoughts and decompress. You whittled away at your spears, biding the time as you devised a plan on how you would approach him. After all, the last thing you wanted was to scare him off or embarrass him in any way. He was reserved when it came to these situations, unsure of himself. The few times you had brushed lips or touched him a bit heatedly, he was jumpy and almost insecure, as if he needed instructions on how he should behave. It was extremely endearing to you; like a stray pup who just needed a little reassurance and affection to calm his fierce walls of doubt.
It was almost dusk when you finished with your spears, gathering them up and placing them near some of the other weapons the community used when needed. You scanned the grounds, noticing everyone collected by the fire, dishing up for a late dinner. You quickly made your way over, grabbing two portions and slipping away before you were noticed and stopped for conversation. You knew Daryl wouldn't get one for himself, spew some excuse that 'he wasn't hungry' or was 'too tired' when really, he just didn't want to take away from another. Even if that meant he didn't eat or drink anything for days at a time. It made your heart blister for more reasons than one.
You balance both plates on your left arm, reaching to pull the flaps open slowly, not wanting to startle him with your arrival, "Dar? You asleep?" you whisper into the dim den.
You hear a grunt, some shuffling, and in a moment a soft glow fills the area as he lights a nearby lamp, perching up on his small cot, "I was."
Flicking off your boots, you zip the entrance closed behind you, "I brought you some dinner, figured you'd be hungry after your trip," You smile and he mutters a quiet thanks, opting to accept your kind offer rather than argue with you, he knew you wouldn't take no for answer anyway. He scoots to the side, creating a spot for you to sit while you two eat in comfortable silence. He liked that you didn't feel the need to fill the air, that you could simply enjoy each other's company without all the small talk. You were one of the few people he'd met in his life, who just inherently understood him, down to the most basic level. He hated leaving you all the time like he had been, just another thing to nag at his over-exhausted mind.
Hearing him sigh quietly, you cast your eyes over, watching as he scrapes up the remaining crumbs off his plate, placing it outside the tent along with yours for you both to deal with in the morning.
"I imagine your pretty tired, huh?" You ask, following his movements as he plops down again beside you.
"Nah, not really. Got a few hours 'fore ya came bustin' in here," he grumbles with a small smirk and you lean into him nudging his shoulder playfully. "Why ya wanna chat or somethin'?"
You consider him for a minute, trying to find the proper words to initiate what was truly on your mind. You knew you had no reason to be nervous. That even though you'd never labeled anything between you guys, you both felt it. Knew it was there. You just needed the right moment. Now was as good a time as any, you figured.
"No, I just- I wanna try something."
He nods his head for you to continue, so you scoot closer, placing your hand delicately on his shoulder and bringing your face centimeters from his. You stop just before you close the gap, gauging his reaction. His breath hitches slightly and you feel his pulse rapid under your fingertips, but he doesn't pull away. Taking that as the only confirmation you'll get, you press your lips to his softly, brushing your thumb against his stubbly, pink cheek. He takes a good minute to respond, carefully moving his lips back against yours and placing his hands on your hips. You feel him squeeze, eliciting a quiet moan of encouragement from you and he all but sinks into your touch, falling into a comfortable rhythm with your lips. You stay like that for a while, breathing in his piney scent and relishing in his gentle kneads at your waist. It wasn’t much to the untrained eye, but you knew that was his way of pouring his affection into you without so many words. His way of telling you he was yours.
You drag your kisses down his neck, nibbling and sucking at the salty flesh between his collarbones. His breaths grow uneven and you can feel him begin to tense again, unused to such personal attention, "Is this okay?" You ask, not wanting to push him past his boundaries. He only nods in response, his throat feeling like the Sahara.
He has to admit, he's thought about this many times, relieved himself to thoughts of you too many times to count over the years. He's just never known how to approach you about it, scared you'd reject him or he'd do something wrong.
He watches as you slip to your knees before him, your eyes glued to his. "You'll let me know if you want me to stop, yeah?" As he tries to nod in response again, you stop him, "I need you to say it to me," You press.
"Y-yea, I'll say somethin'," he whispers timidly and you grin, beginning to unbuckle his belt and slip his raged jeans down. You kiss down his strong thighs, feeling them tremble slightly beneath you. His hard-on is poking through his boxers and you drag your lips across it, placing soft pecks down the length of him, listening to his breathy pants. You didn't realize how turned on you'd be, having him all flushed and needy for you, but god were you enjoying it. Slipping your fingers into the waistband, you tug them down and his cock springs free, precum leaking from the pretty, pink tip.
"You dun have'ta," he mutters, anxiety sweeping over him fast, even though he really, really does want to. You catch his gaze, noticing how dark his stormy eyes have gotten.
"Let me take care of you, sweetheart," you reply, pressing soft kisses from the base to tip, feeling him pulse under your touch. You enclose your mouth around him, taking almost his entire length at once and you hear a guttural groan from above you, his knuckles white from the clutch they had on the bedsheets.
You wondered if he had ever had a woman go down on him before. Judging by the gasps and twitches he was emitting, if he had, it hadn't been for a very long time.
He bucks into you, searching in a daze for more friction, and you pin his hips down, earning a deep whine from him. You knew if he wanted to, he could easily overpower you, use your mouth to his heart's content, but he wouldn't. He wanted you to take charge. Needed it.
Raking your eyes over his heaving figure, you slide your tongue along his shaft, moving in slow, sensual circles as you bob up and down. Daryl's head is tossed back, eyes screwed shut and you can tell he won't last much longer. The sensitivity of not being touched in so long, sprinting towards him at full speed. You pull back, slowing your movements. He lifts his head off the wall, pale blue eyes blown to darkness as he watches you take him so sweetly, "Please," He whispers.
When you shake your head, humming a soft, "Not yet," as best you can around him, his eyes roll back into his skull, entirely overwhelmed by the overstimulation, but loving it nonetheless. "I-I can't," He gasps, his accent muddled even stronger in his lustful state. You have to squeeze your legs tighter, clenching around nothing hearing your man so utterly wrecked beneath you. You want to draw it out for hours. Have him begging you to let him cum down your awaiting throat. However, you decide you both have waited damn long enough to prolong your union even more.
Releasing him with a soft kiss to his leaking tip, you stand in front of him, shimmying out of your clothes as quickly as you can. "Lay down for me, baby,' You direct, moving the straddle him as he eagerly follows your orders, turning lengthwise on the makeshift bed. His eyes never leave yours as you sit down on him, groaning when he feels how wet you are pressed against his cock. "Have you thought about this before, pretty boy?" His cheeks flush crimson at your sultry compliments, nodding curtly whilst avoiding your stare.
"Dar." You press.
You were being so gentle yet stern with him it was making it brain fuzzy, all stressors from the day long washed away to be replaced by only you.
"Have, yeah," He huffs in embarrassment, trying with great difficulty not to portray how truly turned on your words were making him. But you saw right through him... or rather felt him. You lean forward, kissing and nipping up his neck to the shell of his pink ears, "Do you want me to stop?"
A full-body shiver jolts through him when he feels your warm breath against his ear, involuntarily rolling his hips into yours and you chuckle at his obvious sensitivity. He knows he needs to use his words. You won't be letting him off that easy. "Please don't," Is all he manages and it seems to do the trick. You grip his length, tracing it along your soaked folds, and slowly sink down. Your careful as you take in his reaction, scanning his expression for any signs of discomfort. He bites his lip, his eyes squeezed shut and lets out a muffled groan.
"Fuck," He mumbles, and you're surprised to hear him say anything you didn't need to pry out of him. A positive sign, you determined and start to bounce your hips slowly, creating a synchronized dance between your bodies. Your body is buzzing as you ride him, finally feeling the dull ache you’ve had for the man below you begin to dissipate as he whimpers oh so softly for only you to hear. His hands grip your waist hard enough to leave bruises to find in the morning, but you hardly give it a second thought. All you can think about is Daryl. His closeness, his warmth and strength, and-
He tenses beneath you, broken gasps leaving his chewed lips and suddenly he’s lifting you off of him, soaking your thighs and abdomen completely. You gawk as you watch him come down, sworn you haven’t ever seen something so fucking sexy in your life. His head tossed back, jumbled curses leaving his mouth, and dark auburn hair dripping with sweat. You don’t care that he finished before you, this was about him. But you see his eyes snap to yours when he fully comes back down to reality, cheeks blazing for a different reason than before.
Leaning towards him, you capture his lips with your own, tenderly pouring your affection into him, needing him to know you weren’t upset, “It’s okay, relax,” you whisper against him with a soft smile, leaning your forehead onto his. His eyes are filled with guilt, “I mean it, Dar,” And he’s back to his nods of response.
He didn’t need any more words of sympathy. He knew you were happy as a kid on Christmas, he just needed to accept it for himself. So with one last peck to his cherry lips, you slide off him, grab a rag to clean yourself up with, and scoot right in beside him, craving his warmth. He turns to you quickly, grabbing your waist and pulling you impossibly closer to him, burying his head into the crook of your neck. You feel a few soft pecks from him along your jaw and you sigh contentedly, wrapping your limbs around his, reeling in your post-coital glow.
You were safe, snuggled with your love, and that was all you needed.
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