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lenafromthenordiccoven · 1 year ago

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Cool Down Time - Bob Floyd x afab!reader

(moodboard by me, Lewis Pullman pic by retosterchi, found by @up-thereinthesky, rest unsplash.com)

Title: Cool Down Time

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick (2022)

Pairing: Bob Floyd x afab!reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Summary: When the first actual heatwave of the year hits, you suggest a little bit of an unconventional method to cool down with your favourite aviator.

Warnings: temp play, body worship (is that warning? Idk), oral (m!receiving), light dom/sub undertones (with Bob not being the dominant one), swearing, I just want to fluster one (1) man, okay?, not proofread, we die like rebels

Wordcount: 2346

Read on ao3

A/N: My city’s got the first heatwave of the year and I’m miserable. So, naturally, had to come up with a way to distract myself. If not entirely cool down – reasons why I kept this shorter than I had originally planned. *ahem* Also, I apologise for the horrible title. I couldn’t come up with anything better xD (Also, also, I apparently like having characters beg. Oops.)

You flopped down on the couch with a groan while Bob closed the front door. You could hear him chuckle at the way you’d shed your jeans shorts and T-shirt in the hallway on the way to the living room.

“It’s too damn hot!” you grumbled into the pillow that was quickly warming to your body temperature in a failed attempt to defend your actions. Not that you really needed to. Bob was usually the last person you would have needed to explain any of your motivations to. It simply was too hot. San Diego got hit by the first heatwave of the year and you crumbled like a dried-up leaf under a magnifying glass.

“Well, you’re not gonna feel any better if you heat up that couch, darlin’,” Bob said from where he was basically towering above your head. When you shifted your head to peer up at him, your eyes followed a couple beads of sweat that trailed down the side of his neck and pooled in his jugular notch. You could feel your mind drifting to somewhere very different, but Bob’s voice pulled you back.

“Hm?” You raised an eyebrow at him, not having caught any of what he’d said. But given the way he looked at you (his head slightly cocked to the side which always reminded you of a puppy—and which you sometimes teased him for), it was clear that he’d asked you a question.

“I asked how much water you drank today.” He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for your answer. Although you were sure, he already knew it. Not enough. You never drank enough. Well, water.

“Not enough. Probably,” you replied, grumbling again this time. Because you knew what would happen next.

Bob sighed and then motioned for you to get up. “Alright, up you go. Off to the kitchen. Both of us.”

You didn’t even try to hold back the whine as you pushed yourself up and climbed off the couch. You padded after him, noting how his backpack had left a big stain of sweat on his back. You were about to reach out your hand and trace the muscles of his back that were starting to peek through the fabric stuck to his skin. But then Bob stopped in front of the fridge-freezer-combo, opened the freezer compartment to get out some ice cubes and your heat-plagued brain spit out exactly one idea.

“Actually, babe…” You began as you stepped closer to Bob, starting to snuggle up to his back. “I think, I just had an idea how we could maybe cool down a little.”

He turned around to face you, ice cube tray in hand. You reached past him to close the fridge door and then nodded towards the ice cubes. And you could have sworn his skin flushed a darker shade of pink underneath the light sunburn. “You’re not suggesting …?” He nodded towards the ice cubes and quirked an eyebrow.

“I am suggesting temp play, baby, yes.” Your lips stretched into a grin when he blinked rapidly and averted his eyes. Even after having been together for a couple years now, you still got a rise out of Bob getting shy when you suggested something new in the bedroom. Ironic, really. Considering he’d had more experience when you’d first started dating.

“I don’t really see how that could help us cool down exactly,” Bob mumbled. But you could see the mischief glinting in his eyes. After all, how could he say no to one of your suggestions if it meant, he got to worship you? If anybody would have asked Bob how deep his feelings for you ran, he would have had no qualms telling them that he would worship at the altar of you for the rest of his life. Especially if it meant he got to hear you utter his name over and over in that mixture of a scream and a sigh he always drew from you when you climaxed, and when you didn’t give a fuck about whether your neighbours heard you.

You raised an eyebrow in response to his mumbling—and the thousand-yard stare now on his face. Then you gently took the ice cube tray from his hand, before laying your now cold fingers against his cheek. He jerked in response, blinking rapidly. “Where’d you go just now, handsome?” you asked with a seemingly innocent smile. You had an inkling where his mind had wandered off to. The same path yours had when he’d first taken the ice cubes out. It made your smile widen into a grin as his gaze drifted down to your lips for a second.

He cleared his throat, then stretched out his hand for the ice cube tray. “You know, where. Let me just get something to put these ice cubes in, so they don’t go meltin’ on us before we’re done, alright?”

The ice cubes clinked against the glass as you fished one out, the water dripping from your fingers landed on Bob’s now naked chest and he jumped at the sensation at first. But then his body relaxed under you and his gaze locked onto yours.

“You okay?” you asked with smile tugging on your lips, anticipation making your nerves sing before either of you had even gotten very far.

Bob nodded, laid out on his back on the bed, his boxers the last remaining item of clothing on his body. “Just cold at first.”

“Shocker. This is basically ice water by now.” You leaned down until your face hovered maybe an inch above him. “Just don’t buck me off, cowboy.”

“Not makin’ any promises.”

When you gently let the first ice cube rest in his jugular notch, he jolted underneath you again, lips parted in a surprised gasp that faded into a sigh as you then let the ice cube wander up his throat just underneath his jaw. You ground your hips slightly downwards and then caught the resulting groan tumbling from his lips with your own. His hands ghosted over your panty-clad ass and up your sides where one of his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer against him.

You chuckled. “You’re gonna have to let me go if you want me to continue.”

His arm tightened around you in response as he mumbled against your lips: “Not that I’m not looking forward to where this is gonna go, but I just really like havin’ you on top of me like this, darlin’.”

You could feel heat creep up into your cheeks as his words brought up memories of countless times of when you’d had him underneath you like this, with you setting the pace for once as you rode him. “Stop trying to distract me.” You sat up as he loosened his arm around your waist and let his hands wander back to your ass. Just as he squeezed your cheeks, you slapped his chest lightly.

“Oh, am I?” His lips twisted into smug version of the lopsided, lovesick smile you usually got from him. “Sweetheart, I think, you should get another ice cube. This one’s almost gone.” You could see the mirth dancing in his blue eyes.

“Shut up, Lieutenant, and let me do this at my pace.” To ward off any attempts at a reply, you picked up the ice cube – Bob wasn’t wrong about it having almost melted away completely against his heated skin – and pushed it past his lips into his mouth. His lips closed around your fingers, he hummed as he swirled his tongue around your fingertips and then lightly bit down on them.

You swallowed hard at the sensation while your brain and heart took off at the speed of lightning and you found yourself grinding your increasingly wetter core against his clothed cock. “You gonna be a good boy and behave?” you asked before you removed your fingers from his mouth, lifted yourself up onto your knees and leaned over to fish another ice cube out of the glass.

“Yes, ma’am,” was his only response besides another hiss as you let the new ice cube circle his right nipple. Though he did whine in protest when you moved off of him to kneel beside his body on the bed. Then, ignoring the ache burning low in your lower belly at his sounds, you took the ice cube between your lips and began tracing abstract patterns onto his upper body. All the while you tried to keep eye contact, which he broke the first time you inched close to the hem of his boxers and his abs tensed underneath your touch.

Your lips twitched into a smile as he kept his eyes closed and he tried to keep his breathing under control. You slowly let one of your fingers wander along the hem of his boxers, before you tugged on them and Bob dutifully lifted his hips, so you could get them off. He’s half-hard cock slapped against his abdomen, and you watched his brows pinch as the tip landed in a drop of ice water your ice cube had left.

“Sweetheart, please.” There was no need for him to say more. You knew, he needed you to touch him. But you wanted to draw out the build-up a little more. Call it some good-natured revenge for all the times he’d riled you up and had you panting with just fleeting touches of his fingers and lips.

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of you, baby. Just be a good boy and keep your eyes on me, okay?”

You blinked up at him innocently, kneeling between his legs, the sight had him whining. One of his hands came up to cradle your cheek and you nuzzled into the touch, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“You’re always so good to me, Robby. Wanna do the same for you,” you whispered.

He nodded and his hand fell away from your face as you settled in between his thighs. The first gentle kiss you pressed to the inside of his thigh drew a gasp from him. When you took the ice cube from where it had been sitting in his navel and lightly ran it over the junction of his leg and torso before briefly ghosting it over his balls, you got another jolt and a louder “Fuck!” as a reward. The usually lighter blue of his eyes had turned to something darker as his lust-blown eyes stayed locked onto you as if he’d locked onto a target in the sky. Finally, you put the remainder of the ice into your mouth, let it melt on your tongue and cool it down.

One of your hands came up to grip the base of his now definitely hard cock as you licked his tip, humming at the first beads of precum you could taste. “You always taste so good, baby,” you purred.

“Could say the same thing about you. Please, sweetheart. Need your mouth on me. Please, pl—” His words got caught off by a lightly frustrated groan when you tugged on his cock but kissed his stomach instead of wrapping your lips around him.

You chuckled, then hummed while you licked the underside of his shaft from the base to the tip where you pressed another faux-innocent kiss to his cock. When you did finally wrap your lips around him and began to bob your head up and down, Bob’s face twisted in pleasure as he struggled to keep his eyes open and on you.

“Fuck. Thank you, darlin’. You’re so good to me.” You clenched your thighs together at the praise, unable to deny the effect his reactions had on your own arousal.

While you kept bobbing your head, trying to alternate between sucking him off, stroking him and licking, it didn’t take long for Bob to turn into a writhing begging mess underneath you. The ice cubes left in the glass were forgotten as you made it your mission to get him to cum in your mouth. One of his hands tangled in your hair as his hips buck upwards at an uncontrolled rhythm.

“Shit, Y/N. ‘m close, so close. Don’t stop.”

And he kept his word. A couple more bobs and a fleeting touch against his balls had him shooting off into your mouth as your name repeatedly tumbled over his lips. You swallowed everything, helped him ride out his orgasm.

His chest was heaving with every breath as he came down and relaxed underneath your touch again. You kept the kisses to his body and the touches of your fingertips light, gentle so as not to overwhelm him. His hand that was still tangled in your hair tugged lightly, signalling for you to crawl back up his body.

He pulled you down onto him and kissed you, humming contentedly as he tasted himself on your tongue. “Thank you, darlin’. That was … really fuckin’ good.” His voice was hoarse and somewhere in the back of your mind you hoped the neighbours hadn’t come home from their vacation yet. You didn’t exactly want to deal with a knock on your door right now.

You quickly left another peck against his lips, your hand resting over his heart absentmindedly tracing shapes onto his skin. “Glad you enjoyed yourself.” You smiled down at him and his lips twisted into that smug smirk again.

One of his hands came to rest on your hip while the other cradled your head—giving you no other warning when he suddenly flipped you over onto your back, so he could hover over your body. “I think, we still have some ice left in that glass of ours. Let me show you exactly how much I appreciate how well you take care of me, darlin’.”

You giggled as he stooped down to steal another kiss before fishing for an ice cube. While your activities didn’t exactly cool you down, they at least took your mind off the scorching temperatures outside for a little while. And who’s against having a little fun, really?

#bob floyd x reader #robert “bob” floyd x reader #bob floyd x afab!reader #robert“ bob floyd” x afab!reader #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x you #sophie writes #fic: cool down time

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sunny-bunnys-blog · 2 years ago

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Hi! I decided to write a bit for my Human!Astral AU! Some info before continuing:

• Astral uses gender neutral pronouns in this for simplicity so you don't mix them up with Yuma(It also matches a headcanon of mine AHEM)

• This is intended to be platonic keyshipping, with Yuma and Astral having a sort of sibling dymanic/relationship!

• Apis(the name used for Astral at the end) is not my idea! It comes from a thread by @keylimejuice and @toughcookiecontentcenter :D

Without further ado, let's begin!

If Yuma knew how this happened, then he would've stopped it before it even got as serious as it was at that moment.

And now there Yuma was, in his room and watching over the supposedly 'humanised' version of his friend, Astral.

He had noticed that over the past few days, 8 days if you want to be specific, Astral hadn't been acting like themselves. They looked like they could pass out at any moment but would always give an excuse like 'I'm just tired', or 'it's nothing to worry about'

But it had proven itself to be much more serious then they said it to be when they came out of the key with a hazy glaze in their eyes before fainting onto the ground and turning into a human. Thankfully, Yuma had a break from school so he was able to carry their ragdoll-like body onto his actual bed and dressed them in one of his dad's old shirts and sure, it was a bit too big on them, but it worked for the time being.

Every so often, they'd groan a bit and twitch in their sleep before falling silent again, making Yuma worry more.

As they shifted around again, Yuma noticed the way certain areas of their skin dipped, appearing to seem as if chains had been recently pushed up against it. 'Looks like the marks from… then aren't gonna leave any time soon.' Yuma thought to himself, stroking their soft hair that had fallen out of its usual spiky crescent shape.

"H-Huh? Where am I…?" The voice was softer and quieter than normal, but Yuma could recognize it from anywhere.

"Astral! You're alive! I can't be any happier than I am right now!" Yuma cheered, crying happy and silly tears as he hugged Astral tightly, extremely confusing them and scaring them.

'Astral' shoved Yuma away in confusion and curled into a ball on the corner of the bed. "Who are you even talking about? Who are you?! Where am I?!"

This caught Yuma off guard. "Wait, what? Astral, this isn't funny! Stop joking around!" "Who is this 'Astral'?! My name is…. Wait, what's my name?" 'Astral' spoke, causing even more confusion for the both of them.

"You don't remember your name? Or anything?" Yuma said, his breath getting shaky. 'Astral' looked over to the boy with sympathy and looked down in shame. "Yes, I don't remember myself, you or what happened before. I'm sorry."

Yuma sighs before smiling again, but even 'Astral' could tell that his face didn't depict how he actually felt. "It's fine, you couldn't help it. I guess I have to introduce myself to you again, huh?"

"Yes, but before you do." 'Astral' says before touching their chest and flinching, they definitely touched the scar that no.96 left on them. "It seems like you knew me before now so I wanted to ask you, what was I like back then? Did I have many friends?"

'If I tell them about the Astral World and what happened then they would be worried, so maybe I should lie?' Yuma pondered before deciding to go with his gut and lie. "You were really kind! But you were really shy as well so you didn't really have any friends other than me."

'Astral' slowly got out of the foetal position and crossed their legs and Yuma told them about how they 'used to be'. It seemed like they were believing what he said, which made Yuma relieved.

"I sounded like a very nice person, thank you for reminding me…. Toma, was it?" 'Astral' said, reminding Yuma of their first meeting with each other and causing a bit of sadness.

But he quickly recovered and responded with a silly shout. "I've already told you, it's Yuma! Yu-ma! Yuma!" This caused 'Astral' to widen their eyes in shock before covering their ears and shuffling back on the bed.

Yuma was quick to realise what he did wrong and began to apologise profusely for startling them, making them slowly uncover their ears and their eyes softened before speaking again.

"Ah- I'm sorry I reacted like that, I have no idea what brought that on.." Yuma, of course, knew that Eliphas had something to do with that reaction.

"Also" 'Astral started, not giving Yuma any time to respond before talking again. "I know this may sound a bit silly, but, what is my name? I heard you call me 'Astral' and I'm confused." "Oh! Uh, Astral is your original birth name! But you never really liked it, so me and your other friends always just called youuuu… um, Apis! Yeah, we all called you Apis!

Yuma knew he was lying through his back teeth, but he felt like he had to do this at least for a while. He wanted to give his friend real happiness and a true sense of belonging, and that included a name of their own which wasn't just their home planet.

"Apis, huh? I have a very lovely name.."

#the bunny writes #zexal #astral zexal #astral (zexal)#human astral #yuma tsukumo

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hanmi-xo · 1 year ago

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CHAPTER 1: "I Hate Myself"

| My Happiness | Chapter List |

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They say you never realize what you have until it's too late.

But I've always noticed him.

I've always appreciated his kindness.

Even now, his eyes have never glistened brighter than before.

"Hello!"

His voice flew with excitement. Everyone in the class looked at him from his sudden presence.

He grinned with his bright white teeth. His smile shined with charm and enthusiasm. It was alluring and I could tell my classmates felt the same way too.

He hasn't changed.

Many of them smiled and greeted him. The guys were warm and friendly towards him while the girls were either shy or very forward.

I watched in a distance from the far seat in the back that towered over my classmates.

It's only been a couple of weeks since the semester started and he already was making more friends left and right. Here we were in another classroom filled with strangers.

I smiled to myself at this silly déjà vu I was getting.

I wasn't planning on going to the same university as him, but it somehow just happened. He was interested in the university once he heard one of his friends were going to attend here. I think his name was Seungkwan?

I don't remember nor do I think I should remember.

My gaze wandered away from that boy and back to my notebook. It's best if I ignore him.

I've seen him way too often in my life to the point it just feels odd.

I didn't like it but I didn't hate it. I just wished I had the guts to talk to him, but even if I did, what would I even say?

I've always been alone. Having friends just seem too difficult for me. Especially with the ones that lose interest and find someone better.

A heavy sigh left my breath.

"Must be nice to be naturally charismatic," I mutter under my breath.

If I was like that, would I be able to get friends too?

Time flew by and class ended. I quickly gathered my stuff and left the large room before it would become too difficult to go around all those people.

I felt my stomach rumble as I walked through the corridor with a quick pace.

I'm so hungry. I need to have my lunch at the library.

"Excuse me!"

The familiar voice sounded as though it was coming from behind me. I turned around and stared at the boy who was out of breath.

He huffed and put his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"Oh man you walk fast..." He said in between pants.

I watched as the boy straightened himself out before showing the notebook in his hands. It looked very similar to mine.

"Is this your notebook? I saw it in the back," he says with a curl of his lips.

I eyed him and the notebook before checking my backpack. I raised a brow towards him and took out my hydro flask.

"I'm sorry, but that's not mine," I tell him. "I still have my notebook in my bag."

He looked puzzled and opened the notebook while he tried to get his breathing back to normal.

"Huh? It's not yours? It looks like it though?" He said bewildered.

I felt the edges of my lips curl up. So he does pay attention to all of his classmates? Including me?

"It's not mine, but here," I say with my hand sticking out my hydro flask towards him.

He stared at the object in my hand before looking at me.

"I couldn't possible drink that! I MEAN- I COULDN'T POSSIBLE DRINK YOUR DRINK!" He says in a panic.

I unconsciously laughed from his reaction before quickly covering my mouth.

His eyes were wide and stared at me as if I made a horrific sound.

I looked away from his wide eyes and quickly shoved the hydro flask towards him.

I hate my laughter. He didn't need to hear me sound like a dying hyena.

Next thing I knew, I bolted and ran through the crowd.

I never saw that expression from him before and I didn't like it. It reminded me of middle school when my classmates would give me that look of shock from my stupid laugh. They would mock it and say I sound like a witch. What's worst is when my stupid snort comes in when I laugh too hard.

I hate myself.

I hate myself so much.

When I got home, I saw my siblings sitting at the doorsteps while my parents' voices could be heard through the window.

"They're fighting again," Suyeong tells me while she did her homework.

Her workbook laid on her thighs while she used her calculator. Next to her was our younger brother that seemed to be taking a nap with his backpack as his pillow. Suyeong's uniform coat was placed on top of his upper body to keep him warm.

"Sujun fell asleep an hour ago," She says while she writes on her workbook. "He wanted to wait for you, but he was too tired."

I stared at my siblings before looking at the building in front of me. I can hear my parents bickering over money and how life would have been easier if they didn't have kids.

"Let's go somewhere for dinner," I tell my younger sister. "It'll be my treat."

My siblings shouldn't have the hear our parents say such things. Nor should my parents say those harsh words. My sister already hates them whereas our younger brother thinks it's a natural part of life.

If I came here sooner, then they wouldn't have been stuck hearing our parents curse about their lives.

Suyeong looked at me with wide eyes before smiling. "Thank God you have money. I can't wait to eat."

She quickly gathered her stuff together while I woke out brother up to alarm him of our plan.

"Food?" He says tired. "Okay."

He slowly got up and fixed himself before following my sister and I. He was drowsy but I knew the mention of food would wake him up.

Before leaving the front yard, I stared at the run down building we call home. It was for sale because the last tenant died by a heart attack. The price shot low since nobody dared live in a house that could possibly be haunted.

Yet, our parents were more than welcome to take it. After all, they're not the ones that are always going to be there. They're always off doing who knows what. If we weren't alive, would my parents really be happy? Then they wouldn't have to worry about us.

They'll have their freedom again. After all, our real parents abandoned us. Taking us in was just to show off their "kindness" which was just an ugly lie.

Who would genuinely want us if our real parents didn't?

That question has always been in my head. Even now.

Who would love us? Who would love me?

• • •

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#seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt ff #seventeen ff #seventeen dino #svt dino #oc #romance #fluff #insecurity #college au #fanfic #dino fanfic

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michelle-is-writing · 3 years ago

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Family Matters, Greg House

Word count: 1.7k~

In the time I’ve worked at Princeton-Plainsboro teaching hospital, some might say I'm the bubbly doctor in our group. Although I don’t know how true this might be, I do know everyone can agree I'm definitely more bubbly than doctor Gregory House, but that's for another day to discuss. I'm usually the one people send in to try and cheer up patients. Because of this, I mostly work in the pediatrics ward where young, sick children are. Sometimes, I have an easy time talking to the kids and making them happier, and sometimes, I don't; usually, when I'm upset, I have a hard time.

Right now, I'm having a very difficult time.

A young New Jersey girl at the age of 11 had developed mastoiditis, an infection that affects the mastoid bone above the ear and is typically caused by a middle ear infection. Usually, this all clears up, but sadly, this infection had grown to be so bad that the girl ended up with only twenty-three percent of her hearing left in the one ear. Although this is the case, I'm not having a hard time because of the girl's loss of hearing, no.

I have my own problems at the moment.

Since I'm working in the children's ward, I don't get to see Wilson or Greg as much as I want to. Despite Greg's tendency to be an asshole, he's still my best friend and not to mention that Wilson is the kind of guy anyone can talk to about anything. However, our schedules are all different, so, as I said: we don't get to see each other that often.

At least they're still in my life though. For my family, I can’t say the same. Recently, I've just lost the closest person to me in my family; although it wasn’t through death, but through immaturity and childishness. Because of this, all of my other family members have closed me out as well, causing me to be alone. With all of my friends busy and my family shutting me out, I have no one to talk to or enjoy time with... no one. I can't even get a boyfriend for Christ's sake, and it's not like the guy I have my eyes on actually likes me back. Greg is the type of guy you can easily fall in love with, yet at the same, you really shouldn't.

"Doctor (y/n)," the young girl by the name of Jessie states. Putting all my focus back on her, I remind myself not become distracted anymore today. This isn’t the first time, unfortunately. "Will my hearing ever return?"

I smile sadly at her and shake my head. "I'm sorry, Jessie," I tell her. "Your hearing in that ear won't return, but it's not a bad thing!" I assure her. She smiles in relief. "We can always get you a hearing aid, and that will help get your hearing back to normal again, but the wait might be a little long," I explain. "Is that okay with you?"

She nods her head at my question. "I'm okay with that, doctor (Y/n)," Jessie tells me, "I'll have my family help me until then," she smiles brightly. "You can always look up to your family, right?" She states, confident in her words.

Tears slowly rising to my eyes at the thought, I nod and quickly blink them away. "That's right," I tell her, still smiling. "And don't you ever forget it," looking toward her parents, I nod my head. "The discharge nurse will be here in a few moments with the papers. If you'll excuse me..."

Without another word, I quickly leave the room and walk as fast as I can to the nearest empty room. I prefer going to James’ office instead, but it's two floors away, and I don't want any awkward elevator trips. So, before I have a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway, I find an unlocked janitorial closet before walking in and closing the door behind me, ultimately sliding down the hardwood door once it's shut.

Sitting on the cold, tile floor, I begin sobbing as quiet as I can, my hand covering my mouth. I already had my family drama on my mind all day, but for that girl to unintentionally throw it back in my face? That was the frosting on top of the already leaning, three-layer cake.

Tears stream down my cheeks like raindrops as I cry my heart out. I can tell my cheeks are red by the sensation of heat I currently feel on them; my hands feel it too. I'm crying so hard my chest begins to heave up and down as if I were having a panic attack. Oh God, I can't have a panic attack. Not here, not now.

Behind me, I feel two knocks on the door, causing me to halt. The only problem is: the knock wasn't above me, it was where my back is against the door. Remind you, I'm currently sitting on the floor. The only way someone can knock that low is if there is a midget behind the door there or someone used something like a cane... it's Greg.

Slowly moving up a little, I shakily open the door and let the grey haired man in, watching as he looks at me with pity. I've never seen the confident doctor House look like this with anyone. It's like a... a totally different Greg.

Sitting down beside me against the door, Greg drops his cane beside him as he sighs and wraps his arm around me before gently tugging my body close to his. Shocked, I tense up, tears no longer pouring out of my eyes. Greg never comforts anyone like this. He always makes fun of them or says something that many people take offense to, but he never... he never cares. He always brushes it off his shoulder, yet for some reason, he seems like he actually cares this time.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his voice deep as usual with no emotion.

I wait a few seconds before lying. "Nothing important," I tell him, my voice wavering from my scattered emotions.

Pulling me back to face him, Greg looks me in the eye before sighing again. "I know you've been crying by the wet tears on your cheeks, slight puffiness, and redness to your eyes, and fast-paced breathing - and I don’t even have to be a doctor to notice that," he breaks down my current state, lifting an eyebrow. "Now, are you going to begrudgingly tell me what's wrong or do I need to stay in here with you until you finally give in to all my unrelenting sexiness."

His comment makes me laugh, causing a grimace of a smile to fall on House's lips. Out of all of us, I've been the only one to do that. I've been the only one to break Greg's stone exterior and interior. Plus, It doesn't help that I like Greg romantically. I like the fact that he's confident and witty; he's not afraid to be himself. Although, he can still be quite an ass to others, but to me, he’s always been nothing but kind. Even when I first started working here, he was still patient and sweet - a rare sight to everyone else. It used to hurt me to think he’ll never feel the same way as me, but I’ve gotten so used to that fact that it doesn’t even bother me anymore.

"It's just... my family," I explain, Greg pushing my head back onto his shoulder as he holds me. At this point, I'm not shocked by anything he does. The infamous doctor could be high for all I know. He probably took a few Vicodin tablets before coming down here now that I think of it.

"They've completely... shut me out," I explain, shrugging as I rest my hand on his shoulder. "They never talk to me anymore, they've blocked me in any way of even trying to talk to them. My cousin just sent me an email last night telling me that I didn't need to contact them anymore as they no longer wanted me in their lives," I close my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. "Plus, I wish I could work with you guys again," I take a breath before saying the next thing. "I miss you."

A few seconds of silence pass before Greg leans down to my face level. Opening my eyes, I'm greeted by his own sapphire orbs, watching as he continually inches forward until his lips plant themselves on mine. Our eyes close at the same time in response to the touch of our lips, and they stay that way too. With my heart beating fast and a different fire in my cheeks, I instantly respond to his kiss while placing my hands on the sides of his face, feeling his hands attach themselves to my hips as I do so. We kiss until we have to breathe, both of us pulling apart simultaneously.

"They don't deserve you," Greg tells me, a little out of breath. "You are wonderful; a decent and kind human being, inside and out," he takes a small pause, flashing his blue eyes down to mine. "I never thought I’d say this, but… because of you, I think maybe not everyone is a horrible person and that maybe I can be a bit nicer a time or two," he then smiles at me, kissing me once more. "You have made me feel love believe it or not."

Smiling, I lean up to kiss his forehead before sitting back down and resting my head against his chest, my eyes cast upon him as he looks down at me. "You've also made me feel love," I confess to him, my voice shy. "I've grown to love you as well. You and your sarcastic comments and witty comebacks and your insults to apparent stupid people," for once, he laughs, making me grin. "I can't help but love it all."

After a few moments, Greg speaks up. "I know I can't be your entire family," he murmurs, holding me close. "But I can try to be your... your..." He draws on, clearly trying to come up with an appointed title for himself. After a few seconds, I giggle and cut him off.

"Boyfriend?" I ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I was going to say significant other," he argues, looking over to me. "The term boyfriend is so, well, childish," he complains, making me giggle.

Leaning closer, I peck his lips. "Good thing you have a childish mind," I tease him, pressing my lips to his one more time before he responds to my comment with something horrible or completely inappropriate. It is Doctor House we’re talking about, after all.

#greg house #gregory house #gregory house imagines #gregory house imagine #gregory house x reader #greg house imagine #greg house x reader #greg house imagines #house md #house md x reader #house md imagine #house md imagines

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

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Prompt: WWX is one of JGS's bastard sons, raised by his mother and her husband - until they die when he's young. Then he gets taken into the Jin sect instead of the Jiang.

Right Hand Man - ao3

It was a bad day.

All the days were a little bad, but this one was especially bad.

“He’s Cangse Sanren’s child,” Jin Zixuan’s father said, tapping his fan against his palm so that he would look more like a scholar. Secretly, shamefully, Jin Zixuan thought that it didn’t really work – he just looked like one of those scoundrels that tried to pay for their meals with calligraphy instead of pennies. “Taking him in will show our strength.”

“You dare bring one of your bastard children here,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, “and I will drown A-Xuan myself rather than let him suffer through the shame of it.”

Jin Zixuan shivered. No matter how many times he heard his mother say that in her cold and vicious voice, he never got used to it. She’d explained to him that it was the only thing that might work on his father – the fear of losing face like that, of shaming his ancestors, of cutting off his legitimate line – and she was his mother so of course Jin Zixuan believed her, but sometimes when she said it like that he thought she might really go ahead and do it.

“It’s the immortal mountain,” his father argued, ignoring the threat. “The perceived connection is only to our benefit…and anyway, he wouldn’t be legitimized or anything. Legally, his father is that Wei Changze – I could even bring the boy in as a servant if that pleased you more!”

“Nothing you say or do will ever please me,” she said, and that’s when she started throwing things and he started shouting and Jin Zixuan waited until they weren’t paying any attention to him before slipping out.

They’d make a decision one way or another.

It didn’t have anything to do with him.

Wei Wuxian was nominally brought in as a guest disciple, but everyone knew he was really a servant.

Jin Zixuan’s mother made sure everyone knew.

Despite this, Wei Wuxian smiled at everyone, seeming as carefree as a butterfly. It didn’t seem to bother him when he wasn’t allowed to wear sparks amidst snow, or even the usual gold of the guest disciples – Jin Zixuan’s mother said that it was better that he wear plain colors, like white or black, to represent his father and mother and show the world that he hadn’t forgotten his filial piety. It didn’t seem to bother him that he had to room with the other servants, or that he wasn’t invited to dinner at the same time as the rest of them, or that he got less training time –

Whatever it was, it didn’t bother him.

It bothered Jin Zixuan, though.

He started having the old nightmares again – the ones where his mother belatedly found out that he’d been swapped in the cradle for another bastard child of Jin Guangshan, and started treating him just the way she treated all the rest of them while praising some other boy up to the heavens – and his temperament, never considered especially good, got worse due to lack of sleep.

“Go talk to him,” Mianmian suggested. “Maybe if you see he’s reallynot bothered by it…”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s not bothered,” Jin Zixuan muttered. “It’s that I would be bothered if I were him.”

She didn’t understand, of course. Most people didn’t.

They couldn’t understand why Jin Zixuan was so bothered by the knowledge that his parents’ love was conditional on his bloodline and legitimacy – after all, he was the beneficiary of that bias, wasn’t he? What did it matter to him if they were cold to others?

Jin Zixuan didn’t know how to explain that the problem was in knowing that their love was conditional.

It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian was excelling despite all his disadvantages – all their teachers praised him in private, or else when they thought that no one surnamed Jin was listening. All of his mother’s dark speculations about what his father would do if ever there was a bastard child brought back that turned out to be even more talented than he was rang in Jin Zixuan’s ears, and he couldn’t help but look at Wei Wuxian, and wonder if this was it, this was the moment, if he was finally going to be replaced…but no, that would never happen. He was the one with the right blood.

It didn’t matter if he wasn’t actually the best.

Nothing he did in life mattered, really. Nothing had ever mattered since the day he’d been born from the right womb.

“He’s actually really nice,” Mianmian said, and Jin Zixuan looked up, wondering what she was talking about, only to blanch when he realized that she was talking to Wei Wuxian. “Just shy, that’s all –”

“Mianmian!” Jin Zixuan hissed, rushing over, horrified. “He can’t be here! If my mother finds out –”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Wei Wuxian asked, his face brightening. “I thought you just didn’t like me!”

“I don’t know you,” Jin Zixuan said. “How could I dislike you? But really, my mother –”

“We can be friends!” Wei Wuxian declared, and Jin Zixuan was rendered immediately mute. What exactly could he say to that?

He wanted to be friends, too.

His mother found out, because she always found out, and when she did, she threatened to feed Wei Wuxian to the dogs.

It turned out that Wei Wuxian was scared of dogs, something Jin Zixuan’s mother had figured out pretty quickly. That wasn’t a surprise – she knew best how to find people’s weaknesses, and also how to use them. Looking at Wei Wuxian’s sickly pale face, it was clear to Jin Zixuan that this wasn’t the first time dogs had appeared in one of his mother’s punishment, although this was clearly more severe than in the past.

“It was my idea,” he lied, acting on impulse. “Mother, I want him to be my personal servant.”

“Ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“Why is it ridiculous?” he asked. “Wouldn’t the contrast between us only be magnified that way?”

She pursed her lips, but that wasn’t a ‘no’.

Seeing a possible waver, Jin Zixuan decided to trade away one of the very few point on which he and his mother had long disagree.

“He’s charming,” he said. “He can help me woo the Jiang sect girl.”

His mother knew him well enough to know that he was trying to manipulate her, but he also knew that she liked it when he did that. Men were supposed to be upright, straightforward, and virtuous, and yet she liked to see him being subtle and sly – it reminded her of herself. It made her feel like he was more her blood than his father’s, even though in actuality those traits could very well be his father’s, too.

Unfortunately, sneakiness wasn’t really in Jin Zixuan’s nature. Comparing his straightforward and even a little stupid self to his clever and cunning parents, he didn’t know who he took after – it was part of the reason he had so many nightmares about being some cuckoo’s child left in the Jin sect’s nest.

“Fine,” his mother said at last. “He gets one shot.”

Later, when she’d swept off, an empress with her retinue, Mianmian looked at Jin Zixuan with wide eyes. “But Jin-gongzi,” she said. “You don’t wantto marry the Jiang sect girl.”

“I’ve never met her,” Jin Zixuan hedged, which was also true but a little vaguer. He didn’t want to marry a girl he’d never met, one who was several years his elder and who had been described to him only as ‘nice’ and ‘average at best’, just because her mother was his mother’s old friend. He didn’t want his marriage to be yet another thing he had to do because he was someone’s child, rather than his own man.

He wasn’t going to get a choice, though, no matter what he did, just as always. Might as well use it for something good.

Wei Wuxian crashed into him a moment later, clutching him so tightly that it hurt.

“I’ll pay you back,” he promised, his voice tight. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be your best friend ever!”

“That’s good enough,” Jin Zixuan said, his face suddenly hot. “There doesn’t need to be anything more.”

Wei Wuxian really was very charming when they went to visit the Lotus Pier, far more charming than Jin Zixuan ever was or would be, and his future bride seemed positively enchanted by him, which was probably a bad thing.

Jin Zixuan felt he should probably do something about it, but he didn’t know what, so he just snuck off and went to go dip his feet into the river, something he almost never got the chance to go while at home.

“I’m sorry,” the Jiang sect heir, Jiang Cheng, said, sitting gingerly next to him.

Jin Zixuan looked at him sidelong, a little surprised. He’d thought that Jiang Cheng hated him. “What for?”

“My sister. Your half-brother.” Jiang Cheng looked uncomfortable. “I can’t even imagine growing up with someone who’d flirt with the person I was engaged to.”

Jin Zixuan thought it over, then shook his head. “I don’t think he likes her like that. Or her him, either,” he said, since it seemed like Jiang Cheng had misunderstood both Wei Wuxian and his own sister. “Wei Wuxian’s just – like that,” he added. “Always. Everyone loves him unless they’re specifically told not to.”

“That’s worse.” Jiang Cheng wrinkled his nose. “He’s the ‘other person’s child’ here, you know. My father really liked his parents – he’s always talking about him. My mother says he wishes he were his son, instead of your father’s.”

“Now that sounds awful.” Probably better for Wei Wuxian, though. Jiang Fengmian would probably treat him like a real son, not the way Jin Guangshan did, like a pawn or a liability or a bastard brought in just for his possible connections – but it would probably be much worse for Jiang Cheng, who’d have to live with that happening right in front of him. It seemed mean to wish for such a thing. “He’s actually pretty nice? We’re friends. I asked him to help me make friends with your sister…I’m not really good at making friends, when it’s just me.”

He hadn’t expected them to hit it off that well, though. At least to Jin Zixuan’s eyes, they’d clearly all but adopted each other as brother and sister the moment they laid eyes on each other…which in his opinion was actually a little bit worse, since he felt like he himself was still painfully trying to figure out what being a sibling was like, and maybe failing at it.

And in all honesty, he felt a little resentful at Wei Wuxian for being picked, too – or was it a little bereft? No one ever picked him just because they wanted to; it was all because of who he was.

Who his parents were.

“I can be your friend, too, if you like,” Jiang Cheng said. He was scowling into the distance. “A better one.”

“Uh,” Jin Zixuan said, startled. “Don’t you – not like me?”

“We’re friends now,” Jiang Cheng scowled at him. “Deal with it!”

Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a lot, and he liked Jiang Cheng, too, and Nie Huaisang, who he’d just met, fit in with the two of them as if they were three peas in a pod, so he guessed he must like him, too – but if those three endlessly chattering idiots didn’t shut up and let him study he was going to throw himself off some cliff in Gusu and be done with it.

“You really don’t mind me sitting here?” he asked Lan Wangji, who nodded.

Nodded and did not respond verbally – blissful silence!

Still, Jin Zixuan lingered a bit by the door to the peaceful little pavilion he’d found and thought to claim for himself as a secret study place – necessary on account of the fact that Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang spent all their free time together making trouble instead of studying, because Wei Wuxian just did that to people, winning them over despite themselves and then leading them into mischief – only to learn that it belonged to Lan Wangji. It was filled with gentians, which were more Jiang Cheng’s color than Jin Zixuan’s, but Jin Zixuan had seen enough peonies for a lifetime and needed the concealment besides.

It was very kind of Lan Wangji to let him stay, but he still felt he ought to apologize.

And not just for the intrusion.

Wei Wuxian’s ignominious departure from Lan Qiren’s classroom had made it much more peaceful, but that had come at a cost to Lan Wangji’s own education and opportunity to make friends with others – and while Jin Zixuan liked Wei Wuxian a great deal, he wasn’t sure how Lan Wangji felt about being stuck having to monitor him all day.

And now Lan Wangji was being nice to Jin Zixuan, letting him disturb his privacy like this without complaint, and even agreeing to let him stay so that he’d have somewhere quiet to study…he really ought to say something. Maybe apologize for Wei Wuxian, if that was appropriate. It probably was: he was responsible for him, in his own way. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure how to start the conversation –

“Do you like Wei Wuxian?” he blurted out, then felt his face go bright red. He hadn’t meant to ask it that way! After all, who didn’t know how much Lan Wangji disliked Wei Wuxian? He was always glaring at him and saying he was speaking nonsense and telling him to get lost and –

Lan Wangji nodded.

Jin Zixuan blinked. He did? But then why –

“Oh,” he said, suddenly realizing. “You’re socially awkward, too!”

Lan Wangji frowned at him, and Jin Zixuan waved his hands.

“No, no, I don’t mean that as an insult,” he said hastily, trying to cover for his blunder. “It’s like me! I always say the wrong thing, so most of the time I try not to say anything – of course people always get the wrong idea anyway, thinking I’m being quiet because I’m looking down at them…Wei Wuxian’s getting better at understanding people, but he’s still not very good at it, either. I bet he has no idea! If you like him, you should say as much.”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

“…I could say it for you, if you want?”

Even more urgent head-shaking.

Honestly, if Lan Wangji were a woman, Jin Zixuan would’ve thought that he had a crush.

As it was, he was probably just like Jin Zixuan: naturally awkward, and shy about it, too.

“It’s all right,” he said encouragingly. “Next time they throw a party, you can come and sit with me; we can have tea and pretend not to know them. It’s what I always do.”

Lan Wangji stared at him for a long moment, and then finally nodded very slowly.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, voice neutral. “Thank you.”

When the time came and the Wen sect pushed things too far, naturally Jin Zixuan stood up for Mianmian.

Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji all did, too.

Naturally, this made Jin Zixuan feel like complete crap on their account – Mianmian was his friend, his sect, and naturally he had a responsibility towards her; the rest of them were just helping because they were good people, and good friends. But at this point they’d done it, and Wen Chao was angry at them all over it, and there was nothing to be done about it.

And then there was the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and they were all trapped inside with it.

Sometimes, he really hated the Wen sect. Often, even.

“Jiang Cheng, you and Jin Zixuan lead the way out,” Wei Wuxian instructed. “No, don’t protest! You’re heirs of Great Sects; everyone will follow you and listen to you, and that’s critical – you’ll need to evade the Wen sect’s efforts to recapture you. That means cohesion, and cohesion means hierarchy. I’ll stay behind to distract the Xuanwu…”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Jiang Cheng exclaimed.

Jin Zixuan nudged him. “Wei Wuxian’s usually right about this sort of thing,” he reminded him. It was a good thing they’d gotten over that period in their lives when Jiang Cheng thought Wei Wuxian was an evil thief who wanted to take away his older sister and Jin Zixuan’s rightful spouse, when they’d fought all the time while Jin Zixuan desperately tried to get between them. He still had no idea what magic alchemy had happened that had suddenly made them best friends – he suspected Mianmian, or maybe Jiang Yanli – but he was deeply grateful for it. “And we can’t risk the majority. Preserve human life above all else, remember? Teacher Lan’s lessons were very clear.”

“I will remain with Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, to no one’s surprise. They’d been more or less inseparable after Jin Zixuan had recruited Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang to help them get along better after Wei Wuxian’s temporary exile to the Library Pavilion had ended. It helped that Lan Qiren had pulled Wei Wuxian aside for personal lessons to help him catch up with the rest of them, and that those had somehow metamorphosed into afternoon sessions about inventing new types of musical cultivation techniques in which Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were the most enthusiastic, and only, students.

Best of all, it had given the rest of them a chance to finally actually do their work.

Well, not Nie Huaisang, but that was only to be expected.

“But your leg –” Wei Wuxian started, and Jin Zixuan nudged him.

“He’ll only be more worried if you don’t let him stay back and join you,” he said reasonably. “Anyway, it’s good for you to have an incentive not to detour into some big flashy heroic bullshit.”

“Awww, but Jin Zixuan, I like big flashy heroic bullshit!”

Jin Zixuan was, by this point, almost entirely convinced that Wei Wuxian actually was the biological child of Wei Changze, and that his father had lied, both about the man’s supposed infertility and possibly about having slept with Cangse Sanren at all. From Jiang Cheng’s stories, inherited from his father, it seemed that Wei Changze was also the sort of person who went in for big flashy heroic bullshit and reckless humor, the sort that would win him a disciple of an immortal mountain as a bride; it certainly seemed more likely than him sharing blood with Jin Zixuan or his father or even Jin Zixun, all of whom tended towards arrogance, but whose flash was all in their clothing.

Not that it mattered at this late date, of course. They were brothers now – as Nie Huaisang would put it, there were no takebacks allowed.

“No bullshit, you hear me?” Jin Zixuan repeated, looking pointedly at Wei Wuxian. “Not allowed. Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t make me have to tell Mistress Jiang that I lost her favorite idiot friend.”

“You tell her?” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “I’ll have to tell her. All right, let’s go.”

Jiang Yanli was not impressed with the fact that they’d left Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji alone in a cave with a giant murderous turtle.

She still made them soup and gave them bandages to wrap up their bloody feet, though.

(Jin Zixuan was never going to make a good impression on her, no matter what Jiang Cheng said.)

“Wen Chao has demanded recompense for the mess at the Nightless City,” Jin Zixuan’s mother said, reading a letter. Her lips curled up in a strange little smile. “He said Wei Wuxian’s right hand would do.”

“Mother,” Jin Zixuan exclaimed, leaping to his feet with his eyes wide. He’d only been home a week from the indoctrination camp, and Wei Wuxian was still lying in bed most of the time, pretending he wasn’t exhausted; Wen Chao must have sent the letter almost immediately after he’d realized they’d escaped. “You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s just what the little bastard deserves, always trying to outshine you.”

Jin Zixuan shook his head, frantically trying to think of a way out of this, because he knew his mother wouldn’t so much as hesitate to order such an atrocity. She’d never forgiven Wei Wuxian for the possibility of being a threat to Jin Zixuan’s position, however remote the chance, and she’d tried very hard to convince Jin Zixuan of it, too – it was the only thing they didn’t agree on, the only thing Jin Zixuan didn’t yield to her on, and he hated every moment of it.

But not as much as his mother hated it.

It was the only thing she couldn’t control in his life, and she hatedit, and hated Wei Wuxian for it, too.

(She couldn’t hate Jin Zixuan. She couldn’t, because he had the right blood, because he was her son, because he was the heir of Lanling Jin and the source of all her power. But sometimes, when the light was dim and she glanced over too quickly and thought she saw his father when she looked at him, he thought that she wanted to.)

“You can’t be serious,” Jin Zixuan said a second time, keeping calm by sheer willpower. No one but him would dare to object if his mother made a move, especially in his father’s absence…and even if his father was there, Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure his father cared enough about Wei Wuxian to endure another fight with his fearsome wife. “Mother, he’s my servant – my responsibility. Whatever he does is my responsibility, whether to my credit or to my deficit. That’s how that works. They may be asking for Wei Wuxian’s hand, but who’s to say, when they come to claim it, that they won’t seek mine instead?”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s the Wen sect,” Jin Zixuan reminded her. “What don’t they dare?”

She pursed her lips, thinking it over, and for a moment he thought he’d won. “Perhaps,” she allowed, and before he could even breath a sight of relief continued, “But no matter. They’ve set the price, and we can pay it, so why not? We can cut off his hand and send it to them as a peace offering in advance. After all, they’re important allies of ours, and he’s just a bastard.”

“But –”

“No, A-Xuan. No more arguing; I’ve decided.” Her smile broadened. “We’ll do it now.”

Jin Zixuan couldn’t fight with his mother. He’d never had the courage – he was as spineless as his father.

Almost as spineless.

“Yes, Mother,” he said, and drew his sword.

“A-Xuan..?”

“My servant, my responsibility,” he reminded her, and he knew that she’d misunderstood, that she thought that he was going to go take care of the grim task himself. He knew, because for a brief moment in time she looked happy – not true joy, but the only way she ever looked happy for as long as he could remember, like she’d won one over on someone and gotten her way despite everyone’s efforts. He hated to disappoint her. “I have my honor to think of, too.”

Jin Zixuan sent Wei Wuxian to the Lotus Pier, bearing words of warning. His father’s spies had reported that the Wen sect would probably target them first, using Jiang Cheng’s interference in the Xuanwu cave as an excuse – there wasn’t any point going after the Lan sect a second time, and the Jin sect were longstanding allies of Wen Ruohan, with Jin Guangshan being a coward at heart; if Wen Ruohan could keep him out of the inevitable war for a little longer by playing nice, he would.

Word came back not long after that they’d been right: the Lotus Pier had been destroyed.

It also said that Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli were missing – missing, but not dead. It didn’t say anything about their parents, and that was suspicious, too.

Maybe sending Wei Wuxian had helped after all.

“We should reach out to the Nie sect,” Jin Zixuan told his father. “With our money and their strength, we can resist the Wen sect long enough for the smaller sects to catch up.”

“The Wen sect is all-powerful,” his father objected. “What’s even the point of resisting? We’d be better off reaching out to them to see if we can reach a peaceful agreement.”

“We’ve already seen what agreement they want to reach,” Jin Zixuan said, and his father’s gaze dropped guiltily to his waist. Jin Zixuan didn’t bother looking down himself. He didn’t do that much, these days. ��Am I your heir or am I not? You promised me that I’d inherit a sect, not slavery. Reach out to the Nie sect.”

Jin Zixuan should not talk that way to his father. He had always been a filial son, and a spineless one; his father’s son, and nothing else. The only thing he had going for him was the right blood – and even that wasn't that sure a bet, these days. He knew his father was already thinking about Jin Zixun in a way that suggested that all those rumors about his ‘cousin’ having a different father than the one everyone said he had might have some merit.

It seemed, though, that when pushed to it, he was also his mother’s son.

He hoped she choked on the knowledge.

“Reach out to the Nie sect,” he said again. “With all the cultivation world uniting, the Wen sect’s fall is inevitable. If we don’t act now, we’ll be seen as cowards, hanging back and waiting to see how things fall out to eke out the best advantage – if we act, we’ll be seen as heroes.”

“But what if you’re wrong, and the Wen sect does win?”

“Then we’ll tell Sect Leader Wen that we’re perfectly positioned to negotiate the other sects’ terms of surrender, and use that to win anyway,” Jin Zixuan said, less because he thought that was an acceptable course of action and more because he knew it would be what his father would do anyway. “Call the Nie sect.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Jiang Cheng hissed, wild-eyed, and Jin Zixuan blinked at him, taken aback.

“Is it because I wasn’t able to do more to help with the Lotus Pier?” he asked, feeling helpless. “I really did try to convince my father to send more people, but I barely even got him not to block my sending Wei Wuxian –”

“Not because of that!”

Jin Zixuan took a step back. “Uh, then –”

“You cut off your own hand you maniac!”

“The situation –” Jin Zixuan started backing up. “It was necessary – Wei Wuxian, help!”

“No, he’s right,” Wei Wuxian said, arms crossed. His eyes were teary, but they’d been that way since he’d left Jinlin Tower – ever since the Wen sect’s letter. “You’re a maniac, and Jiang Cheng’s going to kill you, and you’re going to deserve it.”

Lan Wangji, standing beside him, nodded.

“It’s not that bad, really.” Jin Zixuan tried to explain. “My mother and father would never have accepted anything else – threats to me are the only thing that work on them, and even that’s stopped working after all these years. Only a real injury would have an impact. If they hadn’t been so shocked, they would’ve just continued to ignore what the Wen sect was doing, or offered them an olive branch, and then then the Wen sect would’ve used that as an opportunity to come and divide up everyone else. We’d lose precious time to regroup, and the Wen sect would only get stronger and stronger –”

“You. Cut. Off. Your. Hand!”

“The Wen sect demanded the hand of the person who started the rebellion in the Xuanwu cave,” Jin Zixuan said quietly. “That was me, not Wei Wuxian. Why should he pay my debts?”

Everyone still seemed very upset, but maybe a little less murderous. Definitely a lot more teary-eyed.

“Couldn’t you have at least picked your other hand?” Wei Wuxian mumbled. “Your right hand – that’s your sword arm.”

Jin Zixuan shrugged. “They demanded the right hand,” he said. “Anyway, it’s fine, I’ve been using my left, and it’s been going smoothly enough…you know, I think I might actually be left-handed? I never knew; everyone always made me use my right.”

“Does it hurt?” Lan Wangji asked suddenly, and Jin Zixuan hesitated, not sure how to respond to that.

Unfortunately, everyone else took that in the worst way possible, and insisted on taking care of him, no matter how much he tried to explain that it didn’t hurt, not really, not anymore; it was just the strangest feeling of absence. Like something that had always been there wasn’t there anymore.

A bit like his mother. She wasn’t talking to him anymore.

He was a terrible son, and would probably end up spending eternity in some afterlife hell being tortured for failing to properly honor his parents.

He’d already resigned himself.

“How are your parts of the war going?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Chifeng-zun says it’s going well, but you know how he is; it’s all business with him, you never hear any stories. Did Wei Wuxian really knock out old Sect Leader Jiang when he refused to leave the Lotus Pier? Tell me he didn’t.”

“He did,” Jiang Cheng said, and he looked amused about it – maybe he’d be in the next boiling pot over in the afterlife of unfilial descendants. “He was a little frantic, you see, on account of not wanting to fail you by letting them die. After all, you had just cut off your own hand for him…”

“Are you ever going to let that drop?”

“Sure. As soon as you have two hands again.”

“…so, never.”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said patiently. “Never. Never ever, if that makes it clearer for you.”

Jin Zixuan’s new hand was made of steel and wire, under the gilding, and functioned using some of the innovative new talismans that Wei Wuxian had invented. He couldn’t help but hope that they weren’t part of the subset that constituted demonic cultivation because people were being really weird about that.

“It’s like people wanted for me to just die in the Burial Mounds,” Wei Wuxian complained. He was dressed in black and grey and red, which he’d apparently adopted as his new sect colors – Jin Zixuan had only managed to send him out of Lanling the first time by officially ejecting him from the Jin sect, a decision his father had initially endorsed but now, he suspected, was regretting.

It was a lot easier to throw out a servant than it was to invite back the founder of demonic cultivation, especially now that he was a war hero and a sect leader.

“You didn’t have to be in the Burial Mounds to begin with,” Jin Zixuan reminded him, to no avail. “I know I said I needed an army because my father wasn’t supplying us properly, but I didn’t mean ‘invent an entirely new cultivation technique and raise an army of the dead’. You know that, right?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged it off, because of course he did.

“You know, they’re calling me the Yiling Patriarch?” he said, and grinned. “It’s because the Burial Mounds are in Yiling, and because I’m founding my own sect. Or whatever. Like I wouldn’t be supporting you, anyway.”

“It has to be your own sect because otherwise you might be forced to share your secret techniques,” Jin Zixuan explained, not for the first time. “Rogue cultivators don’t have the same protections that sects do, even small sects. It doesn’t matter if you’re the only person in it. Or, well, you and Lan Wangji, I guess.”

“I still can’t believe he’s willing to leave the Lan sect to join me,” Wei Wuxian sighed happily. “He’s such a good friend.”

Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure about the strength of his new hand, which was the only reason he didn’t try to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re a bad influence, you know,” he said instead of trying to explain to Wei Wuxian that people didn’t generally leave their natal sects for the sake of a ‘good friend’. “I nearly hit a girl the other day.”

“You did? You? What’d she do?”

“She gave me soup and implied that she’d made it,” Jin Zixuan said. “Except it tasted exactly the same as the soup Mistress Jiang is always making for you – I’ve had it recently enough to know. Sure enough, I push the issue a bit and it turns out it was Mistress Jiang’s. The girl was just trying to claim credit as an excuse to get close to me.”

He sighed. He’d been so angry about it. They were at war! People were dying, losing their homes, losing everything, and this stupid girl could only think about how to plot and scheme to try to get to a prized position as the future Madame Jin. Had his mother done the same, when it’d been his father…?

“You’ve had shijie’s soup recently?” Wei Wuxian asked. His expression looked slightly odd. “Shijie made you soup?”

“Yeah, I think she’s been dropping off whatever’s left over at my tent when she’s done,” Jin Zixuan said, shaking his head. Jiang Yanli was so nice, really truly genuinely nice. He’d never met anyone like her. “Could you thank her for me? I appreciate the thoughtfulness – it’s filling enough that I don’t need to go to the mess, which means there’s more left over for everyone else.”

“…sure,” Wei Wuxian said. “I’ll tell her. Or, and here’s a thought – why don’t you tell her yourself?”

“Why would I? You’re the one she likes,” Jin Zixuan said, puzzled. “I mean, you’re her adopted little brother, aren’t you? She’s practically your second soulmate, after Lan Wangji.”

“I’m really busy,” Wei Wuxian announced, despite having been lazing around complaining that they didn’t have any encounters with the Wen sect lined up for a whole week only a few moments before. “I couldn’t possibly take the time out of my schedule to go talk to her – you see, I’ve had an idea, which is going to keep me very busy…in fact, I’m not even going to be here at all! I need to go to the Lan sect encampment to consult with Teacher Lan.”

Discovering that Lan Qiren had a mad scientist streak when it came to musical cultivation had been extremely disquieting, Jin Zixuan reflected. The world might’ve been better off if Lan Qiren had never had a chance to actually get friendly with Wei Wuxian – Wei Wuxian provided the terrible ideas, Lan Qiren scolded him about them and then helped him smooth the kinks out of them anyway.

Teacher for a day, father for a lifetime…

“All right,” Jin Zixuan said, though he still didn’t exactly understand what had just happened. “I’ll go talk to her, I guess.”

“I just wanted to make sure you know you’re not obligated to make me soup or anything,” Jin Zixuan said, not sure where this conversation had gone off the rails.

Probably around the time that Jiang Yanli had started smiling at him, because he always turned into an idiot whenever that happened. She was so very nice, not just average at all no matter what anyone said, and blissfully down-to-earth – she wouldn’t be wasting her time and everyone else’s thinking about how to politically advance herself despite there being a war on. She spent all her time learning field medicine and helping cook meals for the mess and –

And he’d better stop thinking because he was turning red again.

“I enjoy making soup for you,” Jiang Yanli said peaceably. “Especially since I know you enjoy it, too.”

“I do! It’s just, I don’t know, you already do so much, with the medics and organizing and everything…It’s – uh – I – listen, I know our parents – you don’t have to pay attention to that. I only have one hand, I’m not – don’t feel obligated, not because of that. And don’t let Wei Wuxian make you think making soup is the only thing you’re good for, no matter how much he likes it, okay? You do so much more than just that!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, covering her smile with her hand. “You’re very sweet, you know.”

Jin Zixuan made an incoherent sound.

He would need to do something in return, he thought, a little frantic; he really didn’t know how to deal with a sincere compliment from someone he actually liked. Maybe poetry? Girls were said to like poetry. He couldn’t write poetry worth a damn, but he could pay someone –

She kissed him on the cheek.

All thought abruptly departed.

“Don’t worry, it’s not inappropriate – after all, we’re already engaged,” Jiang Yanli said cheerfully. “Which I’m very good with, so don’t worry about that. Good luck in your next battle, Jin-gongzi.”

At some point she must have left, because she wasn’t there anymore, and Jin Zixuan was still opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

Mianmian peeked in, then snickered. “Oh no,” she said. “She broke him. Everyone! Come look! She totally broke him!”

“Did you actually cut off your hand to save a servant?” Jin Guangyao asked.

“It was a bit more complicated than that,” Jin Zixuan said, uncomfortable, then added, “Welcome to the family.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

For some reason, Jin Zixuan felt a shiver run up his spine. He didn’t think he liked this new brother of his, and he felt bad about it – he’d welcomed Wei Wuxian whole-heartedly, hadn’t he? Was it really that different when it actually was someone of his own blood?

He didn’t like that thought.

“I hope we can be friends,” he said, willing it to be true, and Jin Guangyao murmured something agreeable in return.

Jin Zixuan wished he liked him.

“My mother is going to hate you,” he said, because he knew that she would. “If she does, let me know, and I’ll try to stop her…not just her. If anyone treats you wrong, just tell me. I’ll stand up for you.”

Jin Guangyao smiled again.

“You’re so kind,” he said, and for some reason Jin Zixuan had the feeling that he didn’t mean it at all.

Jin Zixuan had been engaged since before he was born, and it still somehow came as a surprise to find himself married. Not just the event, either – these days he woke up with his wife in his arms and was forced to just stare at her lying there in the soft morning light and wonder how he got so lucky.

He was married.

To a very nice girl, who actually seemed to like him a great deal – she’d made that clear enough when she’d had a chance. Very clear, in fact, which was why there was also a very slight curve in her belly that meant that soon enough he wouldn’t just be married, but a father.

“You’d tell me if I was dreaming, right?” he asked Wei Wuxian, who was visiting again. He did that a lot, but in fairness he didn’t really have a settled place to live – everyone knew the supposed ‘sect’ he’d founded was little more than a sham. He’d been technically kicked out of the Jin sect and refused all offers to rejoin, and it seemed he wasn’t quite ready to scandalize the entire cultivation world by marrying into the Lan sect no matter what Lan Xichen had been hinting. Sometimes he and Lan Wangji spent time at the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, or the Unclean Realm with Nie Huaisang under Nie Mingjue’s long-suffering gaze…everyone called Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriarch, on account of him ‘founding’ his sect there – or rather, summoning up extra resentful energy from the Burial Mounds for the purposes of obtaining an army while minimizing the number of disturbed graves – but he wasn’t, not really. He didn’t live there or anything.

Who would want to live there?

“I would,” Wei Wuxian agreed, but he didn’t follow it up with teasing or anything the way he usually did.

He just looked very uncharacteristically perturbed.

“What is it?” Jin Zixuan asked. “Can I help?”

“No heroic bullshit,” Wei Wuxian said at once, which meant that there was a possibility of heroic bullshit. Given Wei Wuxian’s personality, that also meant that it was heroic bullshit that would be bad for the Jin sect, which he still felt bad about on account of them raising him and all…in all honesty, it might be a good thing in the long run that Jin Zixuan’s father and mother had been so awful to Wei Wuxian as a kid, and that he’d known it. If they’d been good to him, he never would have been willing to leave. “But, uh, remember Wen Ning?”

Jin Zixuan blinked. Wei Wuxian had told him some stories: a junior disciple of the Wen sect, from a branch family – Dafan Wen – who’d helped Wei Wuxian out a few times when he’d been smuggling the Jiang clan to freedom.

More than a few times: he’d been Wei Wuxian’s first disciple in matters of resentful energy, which Wei Wuxian had apparently been thinking of since forever and started playing around with more or less the moment he was no longer officially tied to a sect, and had been a valuable contact during the early period of the war before events had changed and he’d been lost.

“Yes,” he said. “What about him?”

He hadn’t thought of Wen Ning in ages, beyond abstractly hoping he was doing well. It might be hard, with a surname as he had, but surely there was somewhere in the cultivation world for those surnamed Wen – Wei Wuxian had argued fiercely in favor of leniency for the remaining Wen cultivators, and the Lan sect had backed him, thanks to Lan Wangji. The rest of them had been exhausted, Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng and his parents, even Jin Zixuan…his father had ended up volunteering their sect to help with resettlement of the refugees, which had been a pleasant surprise.

Sure, Jin Zixuan knew his father well enough to know that he was only doing it for the clout and possible advantage it would give him, but he was pretty sure the Wen civilians didn’t especially care why they were going to get a reprieve from death and a new place to live, only that they did.

“I’ll get there,” Wei Wuxian said. “It’s a bit complicated…you know how Jin Zixun’s in charge of resettlement?”

Jin Zixuan nodded, puzzled. “What about it?”

“You can’t do that!” one of the guards shouted at Wei Wuxian. “We’re disciples of the Jin sect –”

“Is that so,” Jin Zixuan said, and they all turned to look at him, each one of them blanching in utter horror. “And why didn’t I know that my Jin sect had such people as you?”

“Where’s Wen Ning?” Wen Qing asked Wei Wuxian, looking desperate. “I don’t see him…Where is he?!”

“That monster?” one of the guards blurted out.

“My brother is not a monster!”

“He’s been hiding in the woods,” one of the Wen civilians volunteered. “He’s been raiding the camp, rescuing people who are being abused –”

“Our response was reasonable in light of his aggression,” the guard argued. “He used demonic cultivation – he’s a monster! We had no choice –”

“We’re going to need to question them,” Jin Zixuan said to Lan Wangji, who was looking faintly murderous in his usual righteous sort of way. “To find out who’s their backing – Jin Zixun wouldn’t have dared something like this, not on his own. Can you bind them for me?”

It was his father.

Of course.

“A-Yao, what do you want?” Jin Zixuan asked, and Jin Guangyao stopped in his tracks, staring at him in confusion – as well he should, since he’d only come into Jin Zixuan’s study in order to say good morning on his way to breakfast. “No, sorry, that’s not what I meant. I meant, you know, in life.”

Jin Guangayo blinked at him.

Probably not the best question to spring on someone before breakfast, Jin Zixuan reflected.

“It’s about the trouble that my – that our father got into,” Jin Zixuan explained. “The other cultivation sects are furious to no end that he took advantage of their trust in order to do such a disgraceful thing…I’ve ordered Zixun to be confined for now, and I suspect he’ll have to be banished to some country house for a few years. And as you know, my father will be retiring soon and handing over the position of sect leader to me…”

Neither of them especially wanted that to happen, his father as loathe to give up power as Jin Zixuan was to take it. But what other solution was there after such a scandal?

The Lan sect, ever concerned with morality, had been horrified when they’d found out what had happened; the Jiang sect, despite their close relationship to the Jin sect, had immediately denounced it, and Jiang Yanli, who was Wei Wuxian’s friend, was the very first to speak. The Nie sect, never a firm ally for the Jin sect, was growling about righteousness, and if Nie Mingjue was sincere about that being his only concern – and having worked with the man, Jin Zixuan believed he was – then there were plenty of others in the Nie sect that had their eyes on the greater influence and power that would accrue to their sect if Jin Zixuan’s father were allowed to bring his sect down with him.

Handing over power was the only way to make sure their Jin sect remained strong.

“He won’t be alone, at least,” Jin Zixuan sighed. “I won him that much.”

Jiang Fengmian had agreed to step down from his position as sect leader as well, making it seem as though Jin Guangshan’s retirement were voluntary, part of a joint agreement of the older generation handing over power to the newer. Everyone would know in their hearts that that wasn’t the case, but it would be far less shameful than the alternative – saving a little bit of his father’s face.

“You did well,” Jin Guangyao said, listening with a neutral expression. “In uncovering everything, and revealing it.”

“I would’ve brought you in to help, but I couldn’t,” Jin Zixuan explained. “I know he asked you to help in finding demonic cultivators to join the Jin sect, and…”

He hesitated.

“He implicated me?” Jin Guangyao asked.

He had. Their father was shameless: he’d even sought to move all blame to Jin Guangyao’s back, whether as the actual mastermind or, when that was rejected, as the inciter of the scheme. Nonsense, of course.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Even if Jin Guangyao had suggested it, it would have been his father’s responsibility to refuse.

“No one believes it,” Jin Zixuan said, which was only partially a lie. “Even Chifeng-zun laughed in his face and said you wouldn’t be nearly that stupid.”

Jin Guangyao looked – oddly pleased by that, if Jin Zixuan had to guess.

“Still, it’s awkward,” he said, rubbing his head. “People talk, and our subsidiary sects have never been as quiet as some others…you don’t have to tell me right now what you’re planning, or what you want in the long term. But maybe – uh – you have two sworn brothers. Is there any chance…”

“I could go visit them for a while?”

Jin Zixuan smiled helplessly. “I wish it weren’t necessary. And if you did know what you wanted, I could take it into account when planning the future…”

“No, no,” Jin Guangyao said. “Visiting my sworn brothers will be – fine.” He looked thoughtful. “You said Chifeng-zun didn’t think I was involved?”

“Zewu-jun was also vociferous in your defense,” Jin Zixuan said, trying to elide the fact that it wasn’t so much that Nie Mingjue didn’t think Jin Guangyao was capable of such atrocities, but rather that he declared, and loudly, that if Jin Guangyao had intended to do something horrific like that, he’d have handled it better. Judging by Jin Guangyao’s amused expression, he might have guessed anyway. “I appreciate your understanding.”

Jin Guangyao smiled.

Jin Zixuan thought he might even mean it, this time.

“I’m an uncle!” Wei Wuxian crowed, holding Jin Ling in his arms. “I’m an uncle, I’m an uncle!”

“Big deal,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, which would be more convincing if he wasn’t beaming foolishly. “So am I. Hand him over...hey, A-Ling! It's me, your jiujiu!”

“Can I be an honorary uncle?” Nie Huaisang asked – Jin Zixuan had no idea when he’d even arrived, or why he was here, or anything, really, but that was probably because he hadn’t really slept on account of over-excitement. “I mean, my brother’s sworn brothers with Jin-xiong’s brother, so it works, right?”

“That’s ridiculous –” Jiang Cheng started.

“No, I love it!” Wei Wuxian immediately declared. “That means Lan Zhan’s his uncle, too!”

“Wei Wuxian…!”

“Don’t worry,” Jin Zixuan said, hugging Jiang Cheng out of sheer excitement. “You’re his only jiujiu, right? Everyone else is related through me, so they have to share.”

Jiang Cheng seemed pleased by that, and Wei Wuxian laughed.

Nie Huaisang was calculating on his fingers. “You know,” he said thoughtfully. “This might be the most well-connected baby in the entire cultivation world? The only thing we’re missing is the Wen sect…Jiang-xiong, how about you marry Wen Qing? Then we’d have them all!”

“That is not how I’m determining my marriage!” Jiang Cheng yelped, but notably didn’t reject the idea.

Jin Zixuan looked at Jiang Yanli, who looked back at him, and they both started laughing.

There was more noise after that, and eventually Jin Ling woke up and started crying, making everyone start fussing like a bunch of old hens surrounding a long-suffering Jiang Yanli who’d already grown accustomed to it in a way the rest of them hadn’t.

It suddenly occurred to Jin Zixuan that everyone who was here was here because they wanted to be. Not because of his name or his wealth, not because he was Sect Leader Jin, not because of the circumstances of his birth, but just because they liked him – because they wanted to celebrate with him, and to cherish his child, to share his joy.

It was a good day.

All the days were a little good, but this one was especially good.

#mdzs #jin zixuan #wei wuxian #mianmian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #jin guangyao #jiang yanli #my fic #my fics #right hand man

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thezestyone · 2 years ago

Note

Hello 👋!!! I am here for the game of Perceptions !!!

I will tell u something’s about myself to make it easier ☺️… I am a introvert , I have this RBF (resting bitch face ) ,I tend to would lay low if I am somewhere new , MAYJOR trust issues,i love animals , I can be compassionate, adventurous also really stubborn if someone underestimates me but also kind, understanding, blunt but overall really shy

If u don’t mind can u do to Oda Forces? ( Hideyoshi, Nobunaga, Mitsuhide, Leyasu)

Thank u and if u r confused plz ask or don’t do it and please take care of urself 😘💅

@joy-the-reader,

I do not mind at all!

What they would think upon seeing you for the first time:

Hideyoshi:

Seeing you for the first time, he was naturally suspicious of you. Was this shyness of yours just a ruse? He found out quite quickly that it wasn’t, and how his stern tone made you shrink even more into your shell. It made him feel very guilty, and he decided to make it up to you after he found you very quickly cleared of suspicion. He brought you Uri to lift your spirits, and that seemed to do the trick. You two got along so well, and he found the sight quite adorable. That was not the only thing he found adorable about you. He also found your shyness quite cute, when he no longer thought that it was a ruse. It set off his big brother mode, and he made sure the other members of the Oda Forces behaved themselves around you. He treated you like you were fragile, so imagine the heart attack he gets when he finds out you went exploring the castle town alone. You would be greeted with a scolding when you got back, but only because he cares so much for you. This fondness he had for you was quickly crossing into ambiguous territory, his gestures not seeming as platonic anymore. What would you do? He would never dream of pressing you to make any decision you didn’t want to. All he asked was to stay close to you in any way that he can.

Ieyasu:

Upon seeing you for the first time at Azuchi Castle, Ieyasu observed just how timid you appeared. He also observed how you didn’t let that shyness show through your neutral expression, which he respected. Maybe there was more to you that meets the eye, though he sure was a prickly pear. When he finds how much you liked the local animal residents of the castle, especially his deer, Wasabi, he finds himself warming up to you. He liked how despite your shy demeanor, you did not waver in your speech and spoke your mind clearly. He admired that despite you appearing to be so out of your comfort zone, you are willing to try new things, and explore the castle town. Your residency at the castle was most unexpected, to both you and Ieyasu, yet you take everything that happens to you in full stride. That quiet courage you had reminded him of himself, and he found himself wanting to spend more time with you… only because he just so happened to stop by, of course. It was also just a coincidence he brought Wasabi along so you can pet her. That red blush on his cheeks? He just had something spicy before seeing you, naturally. So maybe he does really like you… and so maybe he plans to seek something more with you. You wouldn’t mind that, right?

Nobunaga:

You were an utter enigma to Nobunaga. You had the courage to save him from a burning temple, yet you appeared so shy when he would speak to you. You were very interesting, and he had no plans of letting you go if he could help it. He wanted to find out your story. What sparked your bravery, especially since you didn’t know who he was when you two first met? He would make all the accommodations possible to make you feel at home at Azuchi Castle, especially since you seemed wary of him. Despite your timid nature, you always spoke your mind, another contrast that baffled him. The more he thought he understood you, the more you left him in awe. He found himself liking you more and more, and with that, came his very commanding “flirting” style that seemed more like orders than flirtation. He found himself having to be near you, just enjoying the way you lived your life in the castle, the way your eyes sparkled when interacting with the animals. You were a spark he couldn’t get enough off, and he found himself wanting you more and more. Would you let him have you be his? He would provide you with as many animals as you wish, regardless of your answer. He couldn’t fathom a life without you, you brought so much joy to Azuchi castle.

Mitsuhide:

What the shy little mouse you were, he noted. How he loved that observation. Be prepared to be Mitsuhide’s main teasing subject, because he was pulling all the stops. He loved the way you would react to his teasing, which made him want to stick quite close to you, which was not very like the usual him at all. Your stubborn behavior at his antics also brought a smile to his face. You were a hoot and then some. He was utterly captivated by you and your shy demeanor. He was not entirely a tease, however, since he also liked to give you some breathing room. He found out you liked animals, so he decided to call Chimaki to you so you could pet her fluffy fur. The way your heart melted at just how cute Chimaki was made his heart melt too, a new discovery he had not anticipated. Usually, Mitsuhide was always one step ahead of everyone, his work required it. With you, however… he found himself wanting to be more honest and candid. You seemed to be a naturally suspicious person, so he knew you no doubt found him to be suspicious as well. He… wanted to change that perception, to be seen similar to the rest of the Oda Forces as someone reliable you could count on. He sought something more with you, though he did not want to crumple whatever the two of you had going on currently. Will you catch this Silver Kitsune in your arms? The choice was all on you.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikemen series #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen ieyasu #ikemen sengoku ieyasu #ikemen sengoku mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku nobunaga #ikemen sengoku hideyoshi #lets play a game #Perceptions

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badassbuchanan · 4 years ago

Text

Take A Break

Plot: all work and no play makes Y/N a whiny little brat

Warnings: smut; teasing, dirty talk, dom!sub, choking, shaming, unprotected sex, rough.

a/n: I'm not happy about the ending, but I couldn’t think of a better one

also, thank you to everyone who has followed me over the last couple of days - I hope you enjoy this! REQUESTS ARE OPEN

“Buck.” I called out across the empty level of the compound, absentmindedly tiptoeing across the floor.

Bucky had been busier than usual recently with Steve’s decision to give the former Hydra assassin an increasing load of responsibility. “If something happens to me, Buck, I need you to take over. There’s no one I trust more.” Is what Steve had told Bucky on multiple occasions.

Bucky was taking his new position very seriously, which recently meant spending most of his time in his study. It was a no go zone for me. Somewhere Bucky liked to be alone, to focus on his work.

But this evening was the last straw, he’d been in there hours and I wanted nothing more than to be with him. To have his attention. All of it.

The door was already open when I got there, Bucky’s large frame shadowed the desk where his palms firmly pressed into the surface.

“There you are.” I smiled excitedly, swiftly walking over to where he stood. My, well actually Bucky’s, t-shirt I wore tickled the top of my thighs, barely covering my panties.

“Hey.” He huffed with a frown, standing straight to press his hands into his hips. His eyes stayed focused on the computer screen as I skipped over to him.

As soon as I reached him, I hugged both of my arms around his flesh one, looking up at him sweetly. “Hi.” I whispered with admiration, taking in his gorgeous profile.

He sighed, his metal hand running through his hair. “This team planning is endless.” He tutted, scrolling down the computer screen.

“Then take a break.” I replied matter-of-factly with a shrug. I was trying not to sound too eager, even if I was literally hanging off of his arm.

Bucky scoffed with a roll of his dreamy eyes, collapsing back into the big desk chair, pulling me with him.

I landed on his lap, adjusting myself to sit sideways, my legs splayed out across his as I giggled.

“You think Old Man Rogers believes in breaks?” He raised his eyebrows, an amused look on his face as he shook his head, his hand finding its way under my shirt to rub the bottom of my back. His face was so close to mine I could feel my body heat up at his presence.

“But I haven’t seen you in forever, Buck.” I whined softly, resting my face in the crook of his neck. I breathed in his intoxicating scent, his soft skin pressing against mine.

My hand pushed under the loose t-shirt he wore, immediately coming into contact with his rock hard abs. I felt myself get wetter at the feeling, becoming needier by the second.

“What are you talking about? You see me everyday.” Bucky dismissed my comment, his gaze falling back on the screen in front of him as he went back to his work.

“But sometimes I need more than to see you.” I mumbled shyly into his neck, my fingers tracing delicate patterns on his stomach.

“Oh.” He faked a shock of realisation, raising his eyebrows with a light chuckle. His metal hand stopped scrolling on the computer and wrapped itself around my waist, adjusting my body to force me to straddle him. “Why don’t you tell me what this is really about, or sit quietly so I can get on with my work, Princess.”

I huffed quietly, trying not to upset him further as I relaxed against his chest. My body rose and fell with every one of his breaths. The soft touches on my back were nice, but it wasn’t enough.

At a desperate attempt for more intimacy, I began shuffling on his lap, immediately flustered as I realised his thick cock was sitting perfectly between my thighs.

I let my lips leave soft kisses on his jaw as I began slowly grinding myself on his lap. Bucky didn’t seem too phased by my actions, the only indication that he could feel my movement was the hardening of his member.

I smiled proudly, continuing to kiss his neck as I rubbed my pussy against his thick length. Bucky continued his work, the wet spot on my panties increasing rapidly.

My nipples hardened beneath the thin t-shirt, rubbing against his chest with every rock of my hips. My movements were no longer subtle, I was shamelessly grinding on his fat cock like a little slut.

His cock nudged through my folds as nicely as it could considering the confined material we still wore. I felt his length twitch against me, letting my imagination wander to his big red tip fucking its way into my tight hole.

It was only when my cheeks were flustered with a tint of pink and my underwear stuck to my soft pussy lips from my leaking juices that I stopped rocking onto him, the sensation of his tip nudging my throbbing clit no longer enough to satisfy.

“Bucky.” I whined softly, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck, my head falling against his chest.

“I’m busy.” He reminded me sweetly, his thumb dropping to rub gentle circles on my exposed thigh from where the t-shirt had ridden up.

“But I want you.” I pouted against his skin, kissing a line up his neck gently. He’d finally got me desperate enough, fucked out enough, to say it.

“I said I’m busy.” His voice grew stern, his whole body stiffening beneath me as his patience wore thin.

He wasn’t doing this because he didn’t want to fuck. Oh no, I could feel his hard on pressed firmly against my sensitive cunt. He wanted this just as much as I did. Bucky was doing this because he loves to see me beg. He loves to see me so desperate for him that I’ll do anything to get his attention.

“Please.” I breathed out shakily, my poor pussy dripping with need. I rolled my hips down onto his again, his hard cock pressed against my core with such force it caused me to moan. “You want it just as bad as I do. I can feel how hard you are.”

“Because you’re grinding on my cock like a desperate puppy.” He snapped back with slight annoyance from my tenacity as he gave me as little attention as possible.

I let out a whine as my head fell into his neck again, my lips leaving soft pecks against his delicate skin. “Please Buck.” I whimpered softly, my skin grazing his sweet spot as my body became weak with frustration.

“Whining isn’t going to make me any quicker, doll.” He tormented me with his words, his dominance only making me want him more. I wanted him to show me who was boss. To pin me down and fuck the attitude out of me.

“I need you.” I cried desperately, my palm rubbing along the bottom of his tummy as I rocked my hips again for any type of friction. “My pussy hurts so bad, Buck.”

“I know Sweetie, but you’re being impatient.” His words were understanding, yet so patronising at the same time. My juices had flooded my panties, dry humping his crotch no longer satisfying the ache. I needed to feel his big cock deep inside of me.

His hands held me still on his lap, causing me to bite down on his jaw in annoyance. “No.” I pouted childishly, unhappy with his actions - or lack there of.

“Hey, stop.” Bucky’s voice dropped an octave, the room falling silent as he grew serious. “Look at me.”

“Buck.” I whined his name with a pout, shy to lean back and look at him as my eyes fell to his lap.

His gaze trailed up and down my body, his metal hand lifting to my cheek to make me look at him.

“You need my cock that bad, baby?” He asked sweetly, his ego growing almost as big as his cock.

Even the thought of getting his thick, hard cock in me made my pussy tingle. I nodded softly, my hand tugging his shirt up enough to expose his abs.

Bucky watched closely, leaning back in the chair as I traced the pads of my fingers over his stomach admiringly, my breath shaky with anticipation.

“How ‘bout a kiss?” He asked softly, my eyes lighting up at the mere thought of such attention. Before Bucky could change his mind, I leaned up and pressed my lips against his.

I immediately whimpered, repeating the action. Bucky smiled against me, letting me peck his lips over and over without kissing me back.

“More.” I mumbled between kisses, my palm still flat against his exposed, warm tummy. I reached up to hold his shoulder with my free hand, balancing on top of him for a better angle.

He finally moved his lips against mine, his hands firmly on my hips as I relaxed into the kiss. Bucky’s cock was straining against the material of his pants, although he seemed unphased by his throbbing member.

I moaned loudly when his tongue flicked against my lip, parting them to allow him access.

But much to my disappointment, Bucky took his lips away from mine, tutting as he did so. “Such a greedy girl for me.” He growled through gritted teeth, cupping my face with his prosthetic palm as his thumb pressed against my lips.

I whimpered with a slight desperation, willing to do anything to get his cock. My mouth opened for Bucky who immediately took the hint, pushing his metal thumb into my mouth.

I hummed around the cold metal, my saliva soaking the digit as I made eye contact with him. Bucky’s pupils were blown out, his eyebrows formed a frown as he pressed his lips together tightly, using all of his willpower not to give in to my begging.

He watched as I swirled my tongue around his thumb, closing my eyes as I took him deeper. I let my hand slide down from his tummy to the waistband of his pants, trying not to smile deviously as I snuck beneath the material, my fingers tracing over his heavy cock.

Bucky reacted just as quickly, his thumb covered in my saliva left my mouth to rip my hand away from his member. “I said a kiss Doll, nothing more.” He growled animalistically, his metal hand squeezing my wrist so tight I thought it was going to break.

“Bucky, no.” I cried weakly, my head throwing back in defeat. I couldn’t take much more of his teasing, especially after feeling his throbbing member in my touch. I needed him inside me.

My chest rose and fell rapidly, on the brink of crying out of frustration. But Bucky wasn’t cracking, pulling my chest against his as he made me snuggle up against him.

I sighed softly as my eyes closed, the tapping of the computer keys let me know that he had well and truly gone back to his work. He used his metal arm to contain me now, knowing his flesh hand wasn’t going to cut it today, I was in a defiant mood.

“Doll if you’re that desperate why don’t you go get yourself off, hm?” He asked after a while of silence. I rolled my eyes, shuffling slightly to let my head rest against his shoulder comfortably.

“It’s not enough,” I huffed sassily, a pout clear on my face. “Your cock’s so big and hard.”

“Fine, you little brat.” He sighed in defeat, standing up with me still clinging to his body. He stepped forward, letting my ass rest on the desk as he angrily shoved a pile of paperwork onto the floor to give us more room. “You better be able to take all of me.”

I nodded eagerly in response, my legs widening for him instinctively as I leaned back on my palms. I watched Bucky’s eyes travel over my body, his flesh hand running over the bare skin of my thigh.

“You’ve made quite the mess of those pretty little panties, baby.” Bucky licked his lips with a smirk, his hand pushing the T-shirt up my body to completely expose my lower half to him. His fingers rubbed over the wet patch of my panties, the outline of my pussy lips evident.

“I told you I needed you.” I pouted in response, bucking my hips up at the feeling of his fingers on my core. He hooked the material of my panties with his finger, taking his time to slowly pull them down my legs.

I kicked them off the rest of the way once they’d gotten to my knees, my bare pussy glistening in the low glow of the office lights.

“Your juicy little pussy is just begging to be fucked, Princess.” Bucky grunted, his fingers pushing into my folds teasingly as my thighs tensed, heels of my feet digging into the desk.

His hands moved to slide up and down my thighs, his head coming down toward my centre. “I could just eat you up.” He mumbled just before his lips came into contact with my pussy.

I gasped loudly, my upper body falling back against the desk as his tongue licked a strip up my lower lips. “Bucky no,” I let out a defeated whine as my back arched off of the desk, my hand tugging his hair. “I want your cock not your tongue.”

Bucky growled deeply, his metal hand quickly moving to hold my throat down, keeping me against the desk as he hovered above me. “So fucking ungrateful today, baby.” He mumbled, his fingers squeezing harder around my throat.

My body began tingling at the pleasure coursing through my veins, his dominance and the attention I was getting gave me an enormous high.

I suddenly felt Bucky’s tip against my tight hole, my juices already drenching his cock. I gasped loudly at the feeling of finally getting what I wanted, Bucky’s breath hot in my ear as he tried to control himself.

“Such a selfish little brat.” He grunted, stretching my hole as he pushed his length inside me. I moaned at the familiar dull ache of my pussy trying to accommodate his size.

My hands dug into the muscles of his back, trying to distract myself from the pain. Bucky’s cock felt so good, it was just that getting my pussy to take him comfortably took some time.

“Don’t even care that I’ve got work to do,” Bucky turned his head toward me, kissing my lips softly as he shoved his whole length in me. “Just want to get your own way.”

Bucky started thrusting in and out of me, my body having no choice but to take his size. His metal hand stayed around my throat, his flesh one pulling my ass to the edge of the desk, impaling me on his cock.

“Oh, Bucky.” I whimpered, closing my eyes in pure extacy. My hand moved to grab his flesh bicep, trying desperately to steady myself as he made my body jolt with every thrust.

He smiled in amusement, his metal thumb rubbing my neck soothingly as he fucked me. Sounds of our bodies slapping together filled the room along with my little whimpers.

“This what you wanted baby?” He chuckled proudly before biting his lower lip. Bucky lowered his upper body, almost pressing against mine as his hot breath tickled my cheek. “Tell me.”

“Y-“ I panted out breathlessly, my thighs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. He was fucking into my cervix from this new angle, the pleasure too much for me to handle.

Bucky kept up his pace, little grunts leaving his lips as he dug his metal fingers into my throat. I could hear the whirring of his arm, his body moving with every thrust.

“I said tell me.” He moaned as my pussy clenched around him, my walls hugging his cock. His balls slapped against my ass, soaked in my wetness that was dripping onto the table.

I could hardly breathe from all the pleasure, Bucky’s chest pressing on mine didn’t make it any easier. My tits bounced beneath my shirt, rubbing against his chest. I tried to answer him, but my head was spinning so much I couldn’t think straight.

”Oh,” Bucky chuckled against my lips, his gorgeous eyes gazing down at me as I looked up at him. “Look at you baby.” He grunted, angling his hips to fuck me into the desk. “So fucked out you can’t even speak.”

“Buck.” I tugged on his hair, pulling his face down onto mine. I kissed him softly, Bucky’s hips stuttering as I sucked on his bottom lip.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked in a patronising voice, licking over my top lip before I bit down on his. “Did I fuck you silly, hm?”

I felt my pussy begin to pulsate as I looked up at him, his handsome face edging me to my climax. His pupils were blown out, his lips swollen and glossy.

Bucky knew I was close, slowing down his pace as he fucked deep into me. “Look at my dumb little Princess.” He teased, his flesh hand moving off of my hip to grab my thigh.

He cupped the underside of me knee, lifting my leg as high as it would go to rub his cock a different way. “So desperate to cum you can’t even form a sentence huh?”

My eyes closed again as a familiar pressure started to build in my lower tummy, signalling I was about to orgasm. I moaned out Bucky’s name, begging him to go faster.

“Is my stupid baby gunna take my cum like a good girl?” Bucky asked as his hand moved more toward my jaw than my throat, cupping my cheek to make me look at him.

I nodded innoncently, turning my head to the side and opening my mouth to suck on his metal thumb again. The taste of his bionic digit was something that never failed to turn me on.

I cried out in pleasure as a tingling sensation took over my pussy, the throbbing of my clit made me clench around his length. I sucked harder on his thumb as Bucky pushed his digit further into my mouth, saliva dripping down my cheek. “C’mon baby, cum on my cock.”

I gripped his metal forearm, unable to stop my hips from bucking up to meet his thrusts. The rough stubble on his lower belly rubbed against my clit, sending me over the edge.

“Fuck.” I moaned loudly as my back arched from the desk, both of Bucky’s hands moving down to my hips as he stood back up straight.

I desperately tried to cling to something as I rode out my high, my hands gripping at the edge of the desk behind my need. “That’s it, good girl.” He encouraged me in a grunt, his jaw clenching as he chased his own high.

My pussy pulsated around his cock erratically, causing his member to twitch inside of me. I came down from my high, my sensitive body jolting with his continuous hard thrusts.

I looked down at where our bodies connected, his thick cock disappearing inside of me. A sudden surge of adrenaline had me sitting up to get a better look, my arm wrapping around his neck as our chests pressed together.

Bucky’s eyes were screwed shut, his lips pressed together as he fucked himself into me hard. “I love the way you fuck me, Buck.” I whimpered softly as I pulled his head down, our lips colliding in a slow kiss.

“Yeah?” He asked sarcastically with a raise of his eyebrows, suddenly pulling his cock completely out of me.

Before I could protest, Bucky pulled me from the desk, making me stand in front of him. He spun me around, my back pressed against his chest. I could feel his hot cock against my ass.

“I’m gunna cum deep in this desperate little pussy.” He moaned into my ear, his stubble scratching my neck as his flesh hand rubbed over my ass.

“That’s what my greedy little cockslut wants, isn’t it baby?” Bucky continued, his metal hand lining his cock back up with my dripping core. “To have my cum deep inside of her.”

His flesh hand moved up to my shoulder, shoving me face down against the desk. He pushed his cock back inside of me, making me cry out a “yes” in response.

My overstimulated clit bashed against the desk with every thrust of his hips, his movements getting more erratic as he reached his high. I clenched around him consistently, desperate to get him to his orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Bucky clung to my hips, smashing against me as his head dropped back, his jaw going slack as he felt his climax take over.

He let out a heavy breath, his hips shakily pressing against mine as his hot spurts of cum filled me up. I let out a satisfied hum as Bucky recovered from his high, pulling out once he’d gotten his breath back.

I stood up straight just before Bucky pulled me back into his arms, hugging my waist as he left a soft kiss on my forehead.

“Do you still have work to do?” I asked softly, still in a stage of euphoria that was clouding some of my senses. I leaned my head against Bucky’s chest, my hand on his metal arm.

Bucky snickered softly at my question. “I think you know the answer to that.” His voice was raspier than usual, his hair tossed and out of place. My heart sunk at the thought of him having to keep working. “But how about you come and keep my cock warm until I'm finished?”

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needleandhammer · 4 years ago

Text

From Simmer to Score

Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers

Word count: 4k

A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.

“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."

At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.

You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.

This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.

You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.

“Thanks.”

You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.

He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”

“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”

You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.

“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.

You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”

“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”

Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.

Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”

Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.

“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.

“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.

While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.

“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”

You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”

After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.

Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.

Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.

Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.

_ _ _ _

It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.

“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.

“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”

“It’s kind of heavy.”

His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.

“I could fix it up.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”

He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.

“I have Oreos,” you announce.

She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”

“Of course, dear.”

She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.

Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”

You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.

“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”

You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”

He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.

Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.

The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.

_ _ _ _

And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.

Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.

It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.

Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.

Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.

One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.

“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?”

Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.

He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.

Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.

_ _ _ _

You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.

Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.

He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.

You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.

There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.

“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.

“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.

He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.

You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.

He nudges you.

“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”

A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”

He stays for dinner.

It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.

“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.

You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.

He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.

Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.

You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.

You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.

You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.

You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.

“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.

His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.

He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.

His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.

You sigh his name.

“I’m here.”

“I want you.”

His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.

He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.

He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.

Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.

_ _ _ _

“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”

Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”

“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.

Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.

“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”

The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.

You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.

The door creaks open again.

“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”

“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.

“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”

Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.

“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.

“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.

You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”

That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.

You reach out. He takes your hand.

Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.

His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.

Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.

You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.

With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.

“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.

Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.

You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”

And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.

"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."

With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.

You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.

Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.

A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.

He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.

Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”

Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.

“But, what if?”

“I want you. I want everything with you.”

You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.

Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!

#curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #smut #fanfic #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

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gaysimpsstuff · 4 years ago

Note

HI IM THE DOM DEKU ANON (I’ll go by ✨ for now? If that’s okay?) first of all that was SO good holy SHIT. I would LOVE more if you want to write it!!! I loved every single second of it, thank you thank you thank you!!! -✨

AHHHHHHH I LOVE YOU TOOOO!!!

You’re awesome, Sparkle Anon! Take this as a token of my appreciation!

Part One Here

Dominate Deku PT.2; My Hero

Deku x GN! Reader

Genre: smutty smut

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: cursing, semi-public sex, praise, blowjobs, dirty talk, praise, dom deku, breath play, masturbation

Summary: After being saved by Pro Hero Deku, you (his biggest fan), decide to thank him the best way you know how.

Other: I decided to make this one a oneshot because I’m better at those than headcannons.

NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy (lemme know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist)

Before requesting, please check if requests are open. This was made while requests were still open.

A normal day. That’s what it was supposed to be. You were not supposed to be stuck in the middle of a villain fight. You were not supposed to meet your hero. You were definitely not supposed to do that with him. And you were not supposed to get his number.

But that’s what happened.

Your day started out boring as hell, wake up to your loud-ass alarm, get dressed in a boring ass outfit, eat a boring breakfast, grab a coffee or something to wake you up, and go to work.

You already knew what was supposed to happen today, and this was not it. You were supposed to stay behind the counter of the coffee shop and take orders. If you were lucky someone would put something funny for their name. Instead, you got an explosion down the street. Immediately, the costumer’s raced out of the building, you and your co-workers following suit.

You located three pro heroes.

Dynamight

Red Riot

Deku

You also noticed a few villains. You realized Dynamight must have been the cause of the explosion. But oh my god- you’re favorite hero, the current number one hero.

Deku.

He was here.

Outside your coffee shop.

Fighting villains.

Best.

Day.

Ever.

On TV, he looked different. Nothing could fully capture that beautiful neon glow around him, or the way his green curls would float upwards and bounce around. And Damn did his undercut look fucking awesome. He looked huge, like he could carry you with his pinky finger. He probably could- no. He definitely could.

Just as you were thinking this, one of the villains grabbed you and yanked you in front of her. You glanced at the other villain, who’d pulled a random civilian in front of him too.

Fuck.

Maybe today wasn’t the best day ever after all.

“Come on heroes! Fight us! Or are you afraid we’ll hurt these innocent people? Back off and we might just let them live!” The villain holding you shouted at the heroes.

There was a moment’s hesitation.

Silence.

Then something wrapped around you and the other civilian, and you were yanked forward, barreling towards the heroes.

Deku.

Did he really move that fast?

Deku stopped himself behind the other two heroes, who immediately ran towards the villains, but you barely even noticed.

Deku had his arm wrapped around you, holding you close. He grinned at both you and the other civilian, a glint in his emerald eyes.

“Don’t you guys worry, we’re here and we’ll keep you safe!” Your heart fluttered at the sound of his catchphrase.

You’re hero is so cool!

He sets the two of you down, but his hand lingers on your waist for a moment, his eyes meeting yours.

You felt your whole body heat up as his hand slipped down, brushing against your backside before he quickly stuffed it into his pocket.

“Dynamight! Red Riot! You guys finished?”

“If you’d been paying attention, Deku, then you would have seen that we’ve already restrained the villains.” Deku’s face flushed a little, and he scratched behind his neck with a chuckle.

“Sorry guys!”

The police arrived a minute later, and the crowd dispersed pretty quickly. You got in the line for an autograph from Deku. You silently hoped that he wouldn’t leave to soon.

You were the last person in line thanks to your earlier flustered behavior. If only you’d gotten over your embarrassment quicker.

Finally, you approached your hero.

“Um- hi Deku,” you stuttered, mentally kicking yourself for acting so shy. “Thank you so much for saving me, I was sure I was gonna get hurt back there!” He grinned down at you (how was he so fucking tall?) and your heart skipped a beat.

“It’s no problem, really. My job is to help people like you.” His smile was so sweet, but for some reason he seemed uncomfortable. Shifting from one foot to the next, glancing at you and away from you as if you were the cause. Were you weirding him out?

“Ah- I’m sorry if I cause you any trouble-“ you started, only to get intuition by the green-haired hero.

“No no no, you didn’t cause me any trouble.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to decipher his behavior. Then you saw it.

Shit.

This is awkward.

W-why was he hard?

Did- did you do that?

An idea popped into your head, a stupid, horny idea. One that probably wouldn’t work. But god did you hope it would work.

“I-if there’s anything I can do to repay you, I want to do it.” He glanced down at you, a look of understanding in his eyes. He seemed to hesitate before shaking his head.

“It’s alright- I can handle myself. I should really be apologizing-“ now it was your turn to interrupt.

“No, no it’s okay. I’d like to help.” He looked down at you, lifting an eyebrow to double check how sure you were. You have him a nod in response and he relaxed, smiling at you.

“Alright then. Dynamight! Red Riot! You two can go ahead without me, I’ve got some business to attend to.”

Dynamight shouted something at him, flipping him off, Red Riot stood in front of him and smiled nervously, waving at Deku.

“Don’t worry about it, man! We’ll finish off the patrol on our own!” The two of them turned the corner. Leaving you. With Deku. Alone. The her turned to look at you, gently placing his hand on your upper arm before taking you with him into an alley, ducking around the corner with you.

“What’s your name?” he asked, cheeks flushed.

“Y-Y/n L/n.” you responded nervously.

“Y/n...” he murmured your name and you could feel your soul leaving your body. “Y/n are you sure you want to help me with this? You don’t have to and I’m not going to do this if you don’t want to. I could always just take care of it myself and-”

“I really want to help!” you exclaimed. “I’ve been a fan of yours for years and well... I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you attractive.” You felt his hand on your shoulder before you were spun around and pressed up against the wall. You let out a squeak as he pushed on your body lightly, putting you on your knees quickly in front of the hero.

“Tell me if you want to stop.” his voice had changed, usually it was lighter and carried a sort-of happy-go-lucky tone to it, but now... His voice was deeper, almost a growl, and the look in his eyes made you shudder. You nodded at him quickly, before he undid a small clip near his crotch. It was probably there to help him pee without needing to take off his whole costume, but well... this was a great alternate use.

He pulled out his dick, and you choked. It wasn’t even anywhere near your mouth and you already couldn’t breath. He had to have been eight or nine inches, curving upwards and to the left. There was a long vein on the underside, and a couple smaller veins on the top. It was a shade darker than the rest of his skin, and the tip was very pink. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so goddamn big. Deku must have noticed your reaction, because he let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s the face most people make.” he joked. “Gonna give up on me now?” you shook your head, clenching your legs together. You reached up, slowly wrapping your fingers around his length.

He smirked down at you, reaching down and brushing your hair out of your face. You slowly started to jerk him off, feeling him harden even more in your hand. A droplet of pre slipped out of the slit, dripping off of him. You moved to catch the drop in your mouth. It didn’t have much of a taste, reminded you a bit of cottage cheese maybe? Except not cold.

“Damn~ that was hot,” you looked up at the hero, who was leaning half against the wall. His eyes seemed to have darkened, and he had a smug look on his face that made your stomach flip. “You like it? Hmm? Like this hero’s cock?” you whimpered, nodding. “Why don’t you take on more of it, hm? How’s that sound baby~”

His voice went straight to your crotch, and you dipped your hands into your pants to touch yourself. You pressed your lips against the tip of his cock, kissing it. You slowly kissed down the underside, all the way to the base. You heard him hiss as you licked a stripe all the way up to his tip, flattening your tongue against him.

His hands wove into your hair, tugging on it lightly. You shudder, opening your mouth and slowly taking the tip in to your waiting cavern. You watch the hero’s expression carefully, how his eyebrows quirk up, how he hisses, how his pearly teeth dig into the soft flesh of his lower lip, how his eyes are half-closed.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for me.” he murmurs. “Taking my cock so well, gonna try an get me to cum? Is that what you want? Want your hero to cum all over you?” you hummed, slowly taking in more of him.

He was so big, you could barely get down halfway, reaching up to stroke the three and a half inches you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You watched as his smug look only grew, his cock twitching in your mouth as you started to bob your head, tongue running along the underside.

His breath hitched, and he tightened his grip on your hair, slowly starting to guide you along his length. You moved your hand away from his dick, putting your arm around the back of his waist, using it to push yourself all the way down on him. Tears bubbled up in your eyes, and you were just barely getting enough air.

God it was so perfect.

You sped up your other hand, masturbating as you sucked off the Number One Hero in an alleyway.

Your nose was buried in a thick mass of dark green hair, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice from the support of his lower stomach.

“Fuck, Y/n! Who knew you were so fucking good at this? This is certainly not gonna be a one-time thing~”

Oh god yes.

You choked and gagged on his dick as he pulled his hips away from you before snapping them against your face. His balls slapped against your chin with every thrust into your mouth. The tears escaped, tumbling down your heated cheeks, but you made no effort to pull away.

You could feel your climax approaching, and you looked up at Deku with wide, innocent, eyes, willing him to cum in your mouth. He let out a soft moan at your expression, understanding.

“Get ready, baby, you’re gonna taste me soon~” he growled with need. You relaxed your throat as best you could, closing your eyes and preparing for him. Soon, his hips started to stutter against your face, and you felt something hot and sticky fill your mouth.

You pulled off his dick with a gasp, a few shots of stray cum landing on your face. You coughed a little, swallowing as much as you could and wiping your tears. You barely noticed him crouching down and handing you a tissue to clean your face with.

“Baby~ you haven’t cum yet have you~” he asked softly. You shook your head.

“S’fine, just wanted to make you feel good.” you told him, and he frowned, slamming his hand against the wall behind you, leaning in close.

“I’m not leaving until you cum.” there it was again, the dominance, his demanding tone, his true wolf-like nature pushing through. You whimpered, pulling your pants down enough for him to see you. He sucked in a breath, leaning close to you and moving his hand towards you.

You put your hands over your mouth when he started to touch you. Fast yet calculated movements, he knew exactly what to do to you to make you come undone. You quickly latched onto him, hips jerking upwards as you came hard on his hand.

You felt his lips against your neck, pressing soft kisses until he reached all the way up to yours. His lips were soft, and tasted like watermelon. You lifted your head feebly to kiss him back, but he was already pulling away. He sucked his fingers and hand clean, keeping eye-contact with you the whole time.

You could feel yourself growing weak under his powerful gaze. When he finished, he wiped his hand off on his pants, tucking his softening dick back into his pants and clipping them shut. He pressed something into your hand, smiling at you.

“You can take care of yourself from here, right? Or do I need to save you again~” he teased. You nodded, muttering that you’d be fine. His smirk softened into a sweet grin, and he stood up. “Call me, I’d like to see you again.” he said over his shoulder, turning the corner and leaving the alley. You lifted your hand to see what he gave you, a crumpled piece of paper with a phone number and the words ‘Izuku Midoriya’ printed next to it.

His phone number.

Not only had you just sucked his dick, you got his number. You sighed, resting your head against the wall and closing your eyes for a moment. Suddenly, you remembered you still had work, and you stood up, rushing to pull your pants and underwear back on.

So what if today was supposed to be a normal day?

It didn’t end up being one, and you were so glad for it.

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starlessea · 3 years ago

Text

Here Comes the Sun: XVIII. Seven Nation Army (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 6040

Chapter Warnings: Language, Not full-on nsfw but QUITE SPICY, Some canon divergence.

"You're good with 'er." Daryl said, like the words had just slipped from his mouth without him realising.

You held Judy in your arms, cradling her against your chest as she looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes. Daryl seemed equally as mesmerised by the baby, as he stroked his thumb over her supple cheek and watched her give him a gummy smile in return.

You glanced over at the man, leaning against him where he stood. "So are you." You told him, but he shook his head in response.

"Nah I ain't." He muttered, his gaze still resting over Judith like she was the most precious thing in the world.

You hummed back, not wanting to break the moment you were having by arguing with him. You wished that things would stay like this forever - that Judith wouldn't cry, and the governor would never come, or that Daryl would not have to leave.

"Where are you going?" You asked the man, as he took a few steps away.

He held up a hand, gesturing for you to wait, and offered a warm smile to reassure you of his return.

"Jus' gimme a minute." He mumbled, walking towards your shared cell.

You raised your eyebrow, watching him disappear behind the bars, before turning your attention back to Judy. You thought that she had Lori's eyes, as they stared up at you in childlike wonder. You continued humming your song to her, now that the man was out of earshot and wouldn't tease you as you sang it. Daryl had suggested sticking the walkman headphones on her every time she cried, but Carol had scolded him for even thinking of the idea. You giggled, remembering the exchange, and how you just watched the two of them get along like old friends whilst you sat in the corner bouncing Judith over your lap.

Daryl came back not even a few minutes later, dragging his rucksack over the floor. He didn't have many possessions to begin with, so you cocked your head in his direction - confused about what could possibly be in there. He returned to your side, resting his arm around your shoulder as he hovered over it to make a face at Judith. You giggled, wondering what the others would say if they had the pleasure of seeing Daryl like this. Though, at the same time, you almost wanted to be completely selfish and not share that side of him with anyone.

You watched as the man fumbled around in the backpack for a bit, before pulling out a familiar, child-size sheriff's hat that couldn't possibly fit on his head. He grinned at you, taking in the way your eyes lit up in response.

"Said we'd give it to lil' asskicker, didn't we?" He teased, before placing the hat gently over the baby's head.

The sight made you want to melt. Daryl began to call Rick over to see, but you slapped his chest and hushed him before he did, wanting to enjoy the moment for yourselves just a little while longer. Daryl narrowed his eyes at you, but his expression soon softened as he noticed the way you stared down at Judith, who was staring right back. You felt like you were holding the future in your arms - and that future wore a sheriff's hat and went by the name of Judith Grimes. What you wouldn't give for a camera; you wanted so desperately to take a photo of her with her brother, and gift a copy to Rick as a surprise.

Daryl had his hand resting over the small of your back. It had hovered there at first, uneasy as usual, but it seemed like he'd forgotten his shyness for a brief moment as he watched the pair of you. You felt like a makeshift, adoptive family, and you wouldn't want it any other way. The hat started to slip down Judith's head, still too big for her yet, and Daryl tipped it back up gently with his knuckle. It was like an impromptu version of peek-a-boo. Everytime the hat fell and covered her face, Daryl would prop it back into position and the baby would smile. You weren't sure you could take it anymore; the entire exchange felt too adorable to keep from the rest of the group any longer.

Just as you were about to call for them, Judy grabbed onto Daryl's finger with her entire fist - which still wasn't able to close all the way around it. You laughed softly at the man's expression, as he stayed perfectly motionless in fear of making her let go.

"I think she likes her uncle Daryl." You whispered, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek in your attempt to unstick the frozen statue.

To that, you could see a faint blush spread over his skin, but this time you decided not to tease him about it.

The two of you made your way to the communal area after a few more minutes, and the others quickly gathered around to get a look at Judith before they left. It was a nice break from the tension in the atmosphere, and it helped you forget, too. Rick gave his daughter a kiss and headed outside to test the vehicle they'd be driving.

Soon, the meeting with the governor would be taking place. Andrea had set it up, like she'd promised, and so Rick, Daryl and Hershel would be heading out under the guise of diplomacy. However, you couldn't say for sure that you believed in the plan very much. As you'd all established before, the governor just didn't seem like the type of man who'd let both sides co-exist peacefully.

Carl had taken his sister from you at some point, and you watched as he compared their hats and made Carol laugh with his antics. Behind you, the Greenes were bidding goodbye to their father and reminding him to be careful, and Daryl approached you under the amused eye of Merle.

"Rick says it's time to go." He told you, affirming the words you'd been dreading to hear.

You put on your best, bravest face and shot him a smile that only faltered a little. He caught it, though - he always did. He pulled you into a hug, and you leant your forehead against his chest, feeling his heartbeat there.

"Be safe." You murmured against him. "Come home this time or I'll kill you myself."

The man chuckled, which you felt rumble through his torso. You looked up at him with a playful smile and he caught your lips, giving you a quick kiss there when he thought no one was looking. In moments like these, it was refreshing to get a glimpse of the old, shy Daryl - never wanting to be in the spotlight. You nudged him gently with your elbow, sending him on his way with a teasing ruffle of his hair. Perhaps you were being too nonchalant about the situation, but you didn't want to dwell on it - or you'd become a crumbling mess like the last time.

You stood next to Beth as the rest of the group filtered out, and the others returned back to whatever they'd been doing before. The girl smiled at you, watching the way your eyes followed Daryl's back as he left the cell block.

"I'll never get used to that." She said quietly, looking between the two of you.

You thought that she'd perhaps seen the exchange take place, but you couldn't really say that you minded.

"Me neither." You confessed, and Beth giggled in response.

You remembered the jokes you'd shared with her, back at the farmhouse. You'd made a promise to talk to her about boys whenever she was sad, and let her laugh at your misfortune in return. Yet, things hadn't exactly played out like that. Daryl was a world away from those bad experiences you'd once recounted to her, but you somehow seemed even more nervous to talk about him in their place. Perhaps it was because you wanted to keep the man all to yourself, just like earlier - as though the very act of speaking about him would disclose some kind of secret you weren't willing to share. Daryl Dixon was yours, but you felt almost too shy to admit it.

"I used to think that Daryl would be the last man standing." Beth confessed, startling you. "Out of all of us."

You nodded back, letting her words sink in.

"I can see why. He's like a one-man army." You replied with a smirk, thinking back on all the times he had proved himself so.

Though Beth shook her head, seeming to almost disagree with herself. You stayed silent, awaiting her response.

"But I don't think that anymore." She told you, like she was completely certain of herself. "It'll probably be you."

Immediately, you raised an eyebrow, wondering if you'd misheard her. Beth's expression didn't change, so you let out a snort in disbelief - amused by the seriousness of it all.

"Me?" You repeated, looking over at her like she'd gone mad. "Why's that?"

The youngest Greene bit her lip, as if deliberating whether to tell you her next words. Eventually, she gave you a light-hearted smile, as though having finally decided to reveal a secret.

"Because there's no way Daryl would let you go down before he did."

You spent the majority of your time waiting in your cell, trying to keep yourself busy by cleaning it up. Daryl had hauled his mattress into the room, and the two of you had abandoned the bunk frame in favour of pushing the two beds together on the floor - creating a makeshift double. You'd also stolen an extra sheet from the laundry room and hung it over your doorway for some privacy. It was still a far cry from the decor of Hershel's farmhouse, but it was starting to feel more comfortable nonetheless. Daryl had given you some thin rope from his rucksack, too, so you'd been able to replace the fraying string from which your polaroids had been strung up. It still wasn't a home yet, but it could be.

The last few days had been tense, so you couldn't blame yourself for slumping down onto the mattress and staring up into a starless, stone sky for a while. You followed the cracks on the ceiling like you were trying to create patterns there, and eventually you felt your eyelids grow heavy as sleep overcame you easier than it had done for as long as you could remember.

When you woke up, the room was dimmer than it had been before, and you thought that it had to be late evening. You'd roused to the sound of footsteps approaching, echoing over the catwalk as though the person wore thick, heavy boots. You smiled to yourself, instantly recognising who they belonged to. The metal doorway squeaked open, and some light filtered in as Daryl lifted the sheet hanging there, letting it fall back down behind him as he entered. You greeted him, but he was wordless in response. He shrugged his leather vest off and let it fall to the floor, not even bothering to place it anywhere.

You raised an eyebrow at the man, debating whether to scold him for making the cell messy when you'd spent your whole day trying to make it nice for him when he got back. Yet, you took one glance at Daryl's face and decided against it. The man looked exhausted. Probably not physically, you realised, but definitely mentally. He seemed to have a permanent scowl tacked onto him, and you could make out the frown lines over his forehead even in the poor lighting. So, you said nothing when the man tugged off his boots and flung them at the wall - where they fell with a thud into a pile.

Sitting up on the mattress, you plumped your pillow against your back and rubbed your eyes. You could almost feel the stress radiating off Daryl as he paced back and forth, so you patted the spot beside you and pulled back the covers to invite him in. He eyed you for a second, as if considering the offer, before taking a seat there. Though, he didn't allow himself to lay down or make himself comfortable, and instead stayed sat over the edge of the mattress with his back to you. Slowly, you crawled over to him, before perching on your knees and resting your head on his shoulder.

"How'd it go?" You whispered, but knew you could probably guess the answer.

Daryl's back was tense; you could feel it. Tentatively, you began to knead your fingers over it, trying to work out the knots in his muscles. Instead of flinching like he usually did, you felt the man relax into you as you pressed your knuckles along his spine.

He growled, but the sound became lost in his throat as you rubbed along his shoulder blades. "It ain't gonna work out." He muttered, eyes closed as he said it.

You hummed in response, more preoccupied with the sounds the man was letting out than his words. It reminded you of being back at the farm, and those days where he'd try to relieve the tension built up in your stiff arms and neck from learning how to shoot.

"Why?" You asked, feeling the deep breath he took underneath your palms.

"Jus' ain't." He replied, but his voice came out strained.

You ran your thumbs down his spine in tandem, all the way from the top of his neck to his lower back, and you felt him shiver slightly under your touch.

"Okay then." You said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Daryl opened his eyes and glanced back at you.

"Tha's it?" He questioned, like he'd expected something more from your response.

You hummed back, returning to pressing over his shoulder blades. Though, the man turned around this time, bringing his legs onto the mattress as he looked over at you.

"I trust you. And I trust Rick." You explained, meeting his questioning eyes. "Whatever we have to do, we'll do."

Daryl frowned, and looked at you like you didn't understand in the slightest. You did, but you didn't want to burden him any more than you had to.

"We gotta gear up for war." He told you, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to convince you of his words - or wait for them to sink in.

You nodded at him, reaffirming that you understood.

"Then we better start loading our guns."

Daryl seemed to break at your words, shaking his head like you'd answered him in the way he'd least wanted. This time you didn't understand, and ran your thumb over the back of his hand to try and coax out an explanation. The man sighed, and took your fingers in his palm as he pressed a kiss over the tips of them.

"Don' wan' ya to have to fight." He admitted quietly, but knew he didn't have a choice.

You shuffled forward a little, so that you were almost sitting in between the man's thighs. His head was low, and he couldn't quite meet your eyes until you spoke.

"That's not up to you to decide." You said, but did so as gently as you could. "It's not like lil' asskicker can hold a rifle yet."

His eyes flickered slightly at the mention of Judith, and you understood that completely. He realised that as much as he wanted to keep you safe, there were now other people who needed his protection more.

"I'm not worried." You reassured him, and pressed both of his cheeks under your palms until he pulled a face that made you laugh.

"I'll be fine because you're here." You told the man, and watched as his expression seemed a little lighter than it had done. "And you're all that I need."

He pulled you into his chest and fell back against the mattress with you in his arms, and you giggled as your noses pressed together. You moved your knees so that they rested either side of his hips, not wanting to crush the man as he squeezed you tight against him.

"What I do to deserve ya?" He mumbled into your hair, and it tickled your ear.

You sat upright, so that you were looking down at him and watching as your hair trailed over his cheeks.

"Hmm, I don't know." You said with a grin. "Bribe me with pretty flowers and music players?"

He smiled back softly, and took the ends of your hair between his fingers, playing with them where he lay. You felt a bit exposed, practically sitting on the man's torso and straddling him as he just stayed perfectly still, content beneath you. For once, you felt like the shy one, as he rubbed over your thigh with his hand - tracing shapes over your jeans. You thought about his question once more, and decided that he deserved a serious answer, too.

"When I first saw you trying to haul yourself up that cliff, you gave me a purpose." You admitted smally, catching his attention like you hadn't even realised you'd lost it. "I think that's reason enough."

Daryl let the small wisps of your hair fall from his fingers as he looked up, focusing on you completely.

"A purpose?" He asked, like the word was foreign on his tongue.

You nodded, trailing your fingers over his chest absentmindedly.

"Even if it was just to get you back to your camp at first." You mumbled, almost like you were talking to yourself as you voiced your innermost thoughts. "Before that, I was just living day to day."

You smiled at the memory, thinking that it was perhaps your favourite one. You'd felt so young back then, but at the same time so old. The world had really had its way with you before you'd stumbled upon Daryl and his group. You might have only been in your mid-twenties, but those few months after the collapse had aged you more than you cared to admit. It wasn't until you met Daryl that you remembered how it felt to be young again.

"One of the first things you asked me back then was why I helped you." You recalled, letting your nails lightly run across his chest, sliding upwards to the exposed skin of his neck.

He stayed silent, like putty in your hands as you spoke.

"I remember finding it a really hard question to answer." You whispered softly, like you were revealing a secret to him. "I ended up saying that I only wanted the chance to be a good person."

Daryl's skin was warm as you ran your thumb along his jawline, surprised at how docile he'd become under your touch.

"But I think that was a lie." You smiled, and the words felt almost devious to admit. "I'd forgotten what it was to even be a person before I met you."

You leant down to press a kiss to his lips, and pulled away before he could kiss you back.

"Thank you for reminding me, Daryl."

You looked down at the man sweetly, like you'd just poured out your entire heart to him. And, he decided to give you his in return.

Suddenly your world spun like clothes in a washing machine as the man flipped your positions, and you snorted rather unflatteringly as your back hit the mattress. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, but now he kneeled between them - with your thighs either side. Your laughs soon trailed off as you noticed Daryl's expression, and you suddenly became quiet without having even realised it.

He leant down to capture your lips, but pulled away before you could deepen the kiss - just as you had done.

"Ya can't just go sayin' shit like that an' expect me not to do nothin'." He growled near your ear, and you quickly realised how dangerous your situation had gotten.

You looped your hands around his neck and pulled him back down, threading your fingers through his hair and letting your nails drag along his scalp. He rested one of his palms over the mattress as he hovered above you, but the other one came to your cheek as your lips met again. You could distinguish Daryl's kisses so easily by now; you knew the soft morning ones from the emotional ones with trembling lips, or the teasing pecks that made you laugh - and that's why you could easily tell that this one was needy.

He bit your bottom lip between his teeth and you immediately whimpered against him, feeling your head spin at how fast everything happened. You'd gone from the washing machine to the dryer without even realising it, and you felt yourself get equally as hot and disorientated.

"Daryl-" you mumbled against his lips, hooking your ankles together around the back of his torso.

He moaned in response but said nothing, letting his thumb trail from your cheek to your neck, where he rested it over your quickly beating pulse. You had your palms pressed flat against his chest, rubbing over the area and feeling the warmth radiate from him. You wanted to take the shirt off, and feel his skin over yours, but you were too preoccupied by his lips on you to do so. He kissed you with more pressure, and you whimpered again as you felt yourself becoming more lost to his touches. You'd thought that Daryl Dixon was a shy man, but recently he seemed adamant to prove you wrong

You unintentionally squeezed your thighs tighter around him, as you felt your head being pushed back further into the mattress. Your jeans rubbed against his uncomfortably, and you felt the buttons dig into your hips and chafe your skin every time you moved. You pulled away for a brief second to catch your breath, and took in the dangerous sight of Daryl Dixon.

You realised that perhaps you'd made a mistake - when you looked at him, that is. His lips were swollen a blush red, and his pupils were blown as he watched you, watching him. You looked away first, feeling shy under his gaze. You wondered how this had happened - when it had happened. You hadn't thought of yourself as the nervous one, but you were made nervous for him.

Without meeting his eyes, you tugged at the hemline of his shirt - making it clear what you wanted. He kissed your forehead gently, and you almost got whiplash from how quickly the man could switch from giving you deep, intense kisses to leaving sweet pecks over your skin like he was afraid you might break. He moved back from you, sitting up so that he was kneeling in between your legs, and pulled off his shirt without you having to ask.

You bit your lip, taking in the sight of his barreled chest and toned muscles as he threw the shirt over his shoulder for it to get lost somewhere in the sheets. You didn't get too stare long, because he was back on top of you in an instant - almost like he'd never left. Though, you didn't mind much, because now you could feel the warmth of his skin pressed against your own chest. Softly, you gasped just from the intensity of it, but Daryl quickly caught your lips and silenced it. You ran your hands up his back, feeling the ridges of scars and the contours of his muscles as he held himself up. You allowed your nails to dig into him slightly, enjoying the way he moaned against you as you did.

Even inside the walls of a prison, Daryl's voice sounded so good up against your ear, as he left your abused lips to focus his attention on your neck, instead. You immediately turned your head to the side in response, feeling your cheek press into the pillow and muffle any noises you made there. You tried to stay quiet, but it seemed like Daryl was intentionally out to make you fail. His tongue ran along your neck and you scratched him particularly hard on his back, stuttering out an apology as you removed your hands and clenched the sheets instead.

It didn't seem to bother the man, however, as he continued to work his way down until his teeth grazed over your collarbone and made you cry out. You quickly shot him a warning look, and he glanced up at you for a brief second before he did it again. It felt utterly euphoric, so you moaned under him unintentionally before you felt him chuckle against your skin.

You would have scolded him, or pulled a face, but your words felt so far away that you doubted you'd be able to form a complete sentence even if you tried. One of Daryl's hands had wandered to your waist, and then dipped lower to your hip. His thumb ran over the bone there, and it sent shivers through you as he gripped your skin tighter. You ran your palms over his bare chest in response, still not entirely used to the feeling. He stopped what he was doing, probably leaving some marks over you without you noticing, and ran his finger along the oval collar of your vest.

"Take it off." He mumbled, his lips still pressed against the skin just above it.

A whine left your mouth before you'd even realised it, and you didn't think Daryl Dixon even knew how he sounded right now. He pulled back to look at you, cheeks all flushed and eyes glossy where you lay beneath him, and you nodded.

He helped you shrug the vest over your head, and left it lying next to you on the pillow. You turned away from his eyes almost instantly, feeling more exposed than you had in a while. He had trusted you, and you wanted to be able to give him your trust in return. Yet, you couldn't help but feel shy under a gaze that intense. You reached your arms over your chest, like you were trying to shelter yourself from the cold - despite being incredibly hot.

The man narrowed his eyes at you, not happy with your decision in the slightest. He leant down so that his lips hovered just above your stomach, and you expected him to place a kiss there in hopes of coaxing your arms away. Except, he didn't. He blew a raspberry against your skin and you all but screamed as you wriggled beneath him, and flung your hands out to push him away.

"Stop!" You yelled, but it had come out strained between a mixture of giggles.

You felt the man smile against your stomach as you panted deeply, in utter disbelief about what he'd just done. Your arms rested either side of you, hands tangled in the sheets just like he'd planned, but you weren't happy at the cost you'd had to pay. You glanced down, ready to chide him, but stopped when you noticed how quiet he'd gotten.

Daryl's eyes were fixated on your waist, and he ran his thumb gently over the small scar there - as though afraid to press too hard and hurt you. Your eyes softened when you saw his expression, and the way he chewed his lip between his teeth. You knew that guilty look from a mile away, and you wouldn't let him wear it any longer.

"Don't." You said into the silence, lifting his hand away from the little indentation there.

You brought his knuckles to your lips and left kisses over them, offering him one of your best smiles in hopes of coaxing one out of him in return.

"It was worth it." You told him. "I'd take another bullet for you if I had to."

Daryl let his forehead drop against your hip, like he was completely exasperated by the response, and muttered something below his breath.

"Why's everythin' that comes outta yer mouth so damn sweet?"

He crawled back up the bed and kissed your lips as if to prove his point, and you moaned against him - having missed the feeling. You were chest to chest, skin pressed fully against each other as you arched your back to try and get even closer. Your fingers trailed lightly over his arms, and you could almost make out the rhythm of his heartbeat as your chests heaved together in time. He reached a hand down to the button of your jeans, and pulled away from the kiss to wait for your response.

Nervously, you glanced over towards the entranceway of your cell, only covered by a thin sheet draped there.

"What if someone hears?" You whispered, suddenly aware of how loud you'd perhaps been beforehand.

Daryl dotted some light kisses over your neck, trailing them down as he spoke between each one he gave.

"Don' care." He mumbled, reaching your sternum.

"Don' care if Rick comes to tell us Randall's gone walk about." He said, and tickled your stomach with his lips.

"Don' care if Carol knocks to say the governor's here with an army an' wants his fuckin' walkman back."

He got to your hip, and this time noticed the tattoo that just about peeked out over the top of your jeans. He raised an eyebrow, and you smiled sheepishly in response.

"Don' wanna wait anymore." He said softly, and neither did you.

He sat up and rested his palms either side of you, looking down at your face with the most affection you'd seen from him yet.

"Okay, then." You whispered back, and interlocked your fingers with his. "I'm yours."

You woke up to warm, morning light streaming in through the pale curtain of your cell, and landing on your cheek. Your eyelids fluttered, and it took you a few seconds to adjust to the brightness - feeling the tears well up as you did. You hummed into Daryl's chest, lying over it with your palm resting there. You'd slept so well, but you'd woken up even better.

His bare skin was warm against yours, so much so that you didn't feel the need to pull the sheets up higher to cover you. You rubbed at your eyes, finally opening them to notice that the man was already awake. You'd been tucked in the crook of his neck, your head just over his shoulder, but he'd been looking down at you as you roused from sleep. Shyly, you smiled at him, and hid your face back into his skin. You felt his laugh rumble there, low and groggy.

"You been up long?" You asked, the words coming out thick as you said them.

You felt him shake his head, but weren't too sure if he was telling the truth. His arm rested over your waist, and you had only just become aware of the weight of it as he rubbed his thumb over your hip beneath the covers.

"What is it?" He murmured. "Didn't ask ya 'bout it las' night."

It took you a few seconds to realise what he meant. You shrugged back the sheet, looking at the part of your body he was referring to.

"I think you were a little preoccupied." You teased, and he pinched your skin there in response.

The ink stood out strongly against your paleness, dotted over your lower hip so that it was concealed even when you wore low-rise jeans. You recalled that night back at the Greene farm, where you all shared secrets over the campfire and the group had seemed surprised to discover that you had a tattoo. Nobody else had ever seen it; Daryl was the first.

"It's a rune." You told him, feeling his calloused fingers trace over the lines so carefully. "They were one of the things I studied before all this."

A small blush worked its way onto your cheeks, as you suddenly felt embarrassed under the man's intense gaze.

"Looks like an arrow." He noted, inspecting it closer.

You hummed in response, not having thought of it that way before.

"I guess it does, doesn't it?" You chuckled, thinking how appropriate it was for the archer to have been the one to notice.

"It's the symbol of the Norse god Týr." You explained, and he watched you talk passionately without interrupting. "Have you ever heard of the story of Sigurd?"

Daryl shook his head with a small smile, already knowing that you were going to tell him no matter how he answered.

"In the sagas, he slays the dragon Fáfnir and carves the runes of Týr into his sword." You said, excitedly. "They're meant to be the sign of a warrior. To ensure certain victory."

Daryl seemed perfectly content, gazing down at you as you spoke with so much life in your voice. It reminded you of that first night where you shared a bed together in the Greene's spare room. Even then, having barely known you more than a day, the man allowed you to ramble whilst he listened in silence. He'd made out like he was ignoring you, but every small detail you'd given during those early morning hours he'd seemed to recall - even a few weeks later. But now, you thought it was slightly different. He made no attempt to pretend like he wasn't interested in your stories, or that you talked too much for him to stand. He looked at you like your words were law, but he'd somehow ended up in a prison anyway.

"Tha' why ya weren't scared 'bout facing the governor?" He teased, once you'd finished your brief lesson. "Certain victory?"

You snorted, having only just realised the irony of it all.

"No." You admitted, slapping his chest lightly as you laughed.

Maybe it was the rune, but it was more likely the one-man army at your side who assured you of that victory.

"I think this tattoo would be much more suited to you than it is me." You confessed, tracing its shape over the back of his hand.

He watched you make your invisible markings, and remained wordless as you did so.

"I got it just after I started teaching. To remind myself to be brave." You told him, and this time he was the one to laugh.

"So teachin' students was as hard as slayin' a dragon?" He questioned, and you could practically hear the smirk through his voice.

You raised your head from his chest to look at him in mock offense.

"If I had a student like you, then maybe." You teased, and the man grabbed the sheets and bundled you up in them tightly as you struggled against him.

The two of you lay there for a while, not quite yet ready to face the day. You knew the inevitable would be coming soon, and you wished you could just pause this moment as easily as you paused the songs on your walkman - immortalising it in an old, labelled cassette.

"A lot of the time I don't feel very brave, but I've decided to trust it more recently." You mumbled, feeling the edges of sleep start to return.

Daryl questioned you, before realising that you had carried on with the earlier conversation - seemingly by yourself. You felt him trace over your hip again, but your eyelids were too heavy to look at him.

"There anythin' ya don't know?" He grumbled, but it was too playful to be considered so. "Yer too smart for yer own good, Sunshine."

You hummed against his chest, wanting nothing more than for the morning hours to drag along slower, and for the night that followed to stand still.

"I could tell you stories of dragons and knights, and speak to you in languages that have long since faded away." You told the man, but it came out half-hearted and muffled against his skin.

"But there are still many things I don't know, Dixon." You admitted. "Like what I did to deserve you, too."

A/N *mic drop* Ok but for real, who let me have alcohol whilst writing this??? Tipsy me gets WAY TOO SPICY WAY TOO QUICK- The chapter plan had way more in it, but I accidentally threw the plot out the window because I got preoccupied *cough*...

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well-its-not-human-anymore · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Could I get HC from the guys? 👀 How they would always react to catching the reader seeing them "badly", in addition to the fact that he usually avoids them, but with his brothers it is incredible and they feel bad because they think they do not like him. But she actually likes them and she looks at them like that because she "studies" them to draw them and she is too clumsy and shy to talk to them, that's why she ends up avoiding them. Until finally he catches her drawing them with lots of hearts or maybe they'll find her notebook with lots of portraits of them.

It's kind of funny because when I study people to draw them, they think that I look at them with hatred xd maybe I should increase my glasses prescription

God, glasses are such a pain in the ass but I have to wear them. If I don't anyone within my near vicinity doesn't have a face. But why they gotta get dirty so easily???? Makes me wanna explode or something

TMNT Headcanons

The boys w/ a quiet reader who is fine with his brothers but acts cold around him and stares a lot

Michaelangelo

mikey couldn't describe his disappointment upon realizing that you didn't want to be friends with him

well, you never actually said that to him

but he was pretty sure it was the case

you'd never made an effort to be friends with him

stared at him an awful lot though, but there was always something off about your gaze when you looked at him

like you were sizing him up, scrutinizing him, like he was an opponent

it kinda worried him

to add to that, you didn't even attempt to look embarrassed when he caught you staring

you'd just stare harder

on your end it was quite the opposite

you always found the brothers fascinating and you LOVED studying their anatomy, you'd confessed this to Donnie early on and he happily indulged in your questions

and you loved how easily you got along with the boys

well, except for Mikey

but it wasn't for a lack of trying

whenever the orange sporting turtle came around your normally flamboyant personality crept back into its little corner and hid

any words of excitement that had previously been with you died in your throat

for the longest time you didn't understand it

and you hated not understanding things, so you turned to your only outlet

that's how you ended up with an entire sketchbook full of the youngest brother in vastly different styles and poses

you had a separate book for the others, none of them as detailed as this

and when you stared to analyze you'd fallen into a habit of not looking away when caught

by your logic, if you stared back hard enough he'd look away first or just assume you'd zoned out

he didn't

and on one hectic day you'd left your sketchbook open on the kitchen table in your rush to get to work

you hadn't even noticed the slip up until Leo texted you to let you know during your shift

instant panic

in truth, Mikey was the one who discovered the book upon waking up from his nap and he'd spent the next three hours analyzing every drawing

when you finally dropped in after work to grab your book the turtle was waiting for you with it in hand

he'd asked you if you hated him

you told him no and accepted your sketchbook from him

he was relieved and screaming excitedly, just in his head

"Do you maybe wanna hang out sometime?"

You sighed in relief and nodded

"If you're cool with it- you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"I mean- you are talking to a turtle..."

you lightly shoved his chest and smiled, although it faded within a second

"Oh hush, 10 o'clock tomorrow? I'll bring snacks."

he was so stunned he could only shoot you finger guns in approval

Donatello

Donnie genuinely couldn't understand your unease around him

he'd followed all the proper expectations of holding a conversation

he was polite and engaging

so why wouldn't you talk to him?

this boy has read so many social blogs to try and figure out what he was doing wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it

you were fine with the rest of his brothers, you'd stay up for hours laughing and gaming with them

you'd even sat still long enough to listen to Leo explain some old Japanese myth that he'd read about in a book

but with him it was always a quick, cordial greetings and farewells with bland small talk in between

Donnie had picked up pretty quickly that you weren't interested in any sort of interaction with him

and he convinced himself that that was okay

but that didn't explain the staring

he'd caught you in the act several times, eyes narrowed and locked on him

especially when you were alone with him in a room or just in the lair

the poor turtle just couldn't put his finger on it

then he caught you drawing, he noticed early on that you always carried a small sketchbook on your person but he didn't think much of it

and it wasn't so much that he caught you drawing, in fact, he wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't snapped at him while he was trying to do a sudoku puzzle

"Damn it Donnie! Stop moving! If I fuck this arm up one more time I'm gonna decompose!"

he'd quickly moved back into the position he was in prior

"sorry?"

but you'd gone silent again, occasionally glancing up from your work and running your eyes along his frame before looking down again

nearly twenty minutes later Donnie had finished the puzzle and it seemed as though you had finished your drawing

"Uh- can I ask what are you-"

"I'm drawing you but you kept moving your arm and making me mess up. You always do that when I draw you so every damn picture I have of you stays a sketch because you always come out looking like a fucking octopus."

He just stared

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to explode on you like that. I'm just- I'm really bad at talking to you okay? It's so easy with everyone else but you've just gotta be so damn smart all the time and I worry that you'll think I'm boring so I just... don't talk to you?"

Donnie is stunned™

You refuse to show him the drawing until you can complete the line art and color it

But at least he knows that you don't hate him

Leonardo

To be completely honest Leo didn't mind that you were distant from him

You created an aura of calm when you were around and you always managed to distract his brothers while you were present

And he enjoyed the alone time

But after a few months that calm acceptance turned into jealousy

Not that he would ever admit it

He would just push it off and ignore it, that usually seemed to work

So why wasn't it?

And your obvious staring problem didn't help at all

Leo didn't spend much time considering his appearance but something about your gaze made him self conscious

And he hated that with a passion

Why was it that you could hold entire debates with his siblings? Even his dad for gods sake. You'd have hour long conversations on almost everything but whenever he tried to say hello you'd make up some lame ass excuse and scamper away

He just wanted an explanation

It appeared that the answer resided in your sketchbook

You'd left it open on the couch when Raph had called you away to spar with him

Leo very delicately flipped through the pages, careful not to disturb some of the polaroid pictures of his brothers

He was admittedly surprised to find pictures of himself among the pages

One of him in a handstand, another of him meditating, there was even one of him mid sneeze that you'd recreated with pencil and paper

The image of his eyes was the most startling, but the book held no polaroid of his eyes

You drew them from memory

And he was shocked when you returned to the room and didn't immediately panic

But that might have been because he didn't try to withhold your book from you

"It took me three months to color them, your eyes. I could never get the shade of blue just right."

"I'm gonna be honest with you y/n, I really thought you didn't like me."

You had the nerve to roll your eyes and follow it with a laugh

"I don't. I mean- I do but no, you just remind me a lot of myself and I haven't exactly figured out why yet. I thought that maybe if I drew you it'd be easier to figure you out..."

"Well did it help?"

You grinned

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Raphael

If there was one thing Raph hated it was not understanding something that was right in front of him

which is ironic, as a much younger version of himself probably couldn't care less

and a part of him wishes he didn't care about it so much

he wishes that your blatant avoidance of him didn't upset him

but shit, it got under his skin better than any needle ever could

was it too much to ask for you to just tell him what he said or did wrong?

was he asking too much of you?

but on the same scale you'd never shown obvious dislike towards him, you were never rude and you sure as hell didn't talk shit about him to his brothers

you got along great with them

in fact it was getting more difficult to remember a time before you became a part of his family

he'd become so used to your presence that it no longer put him off when he found you hanging around the lair

but in another sense he was certain that you hadn't spoken more than three sentences to him in your time knowing him or his family

so what was the reason

several months in he finally caught onto the staring, your narrow, glassy gaze locked onto his body and refusing to look away

he stared right back at you

this annoyed you for several reasons

because within five seconds your very peaceful drawing session had turned into a staring contest and your eyes were getting VERY dry

then you exhaled in a half-sigh and looked back down at your paper

"Huh, I guess your head is more of an oblong shape..."

he took offense to this

"What tha' hell is that supposed t'mean?"

now your eyes held more of an amused silent judgement, you begrudgingly held up your sketchbook

"I'm drawing you, you fucking walnut."

"Oh..."

now you rolled you eyes and tossed the book to him, he nearly dropped it and fumbled with the pages

your annoyance was quickly growing

"Careful with that."

He flipped through the pages at a snails pace, assumingly because he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing

you had some real talent

when he looked back up at you he was wearing that crooked smile

"and here I was thinkin' that my eyes were just green."

Hope I was able to get this down pretty well! I really enjoyed writing this one! Thanks for the patience!

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #writing blog #writing requests #askbox #ask response #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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woman’s world - chris evans smut

The one where Chris pisses you off during a panel, but then finds a way to apologize

Warnings: age gap, famous!reader, oblivious Chris, smut, unprotected sex

Chris’ P.O.V.

The panel had gone well, or as well as it could go when everyone was trying to push the idea of Y/N and I together. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to pursue something with her - quite the opposite in fact. I was completely infatuated with the young actress, but the problem was just that: she was young. Too young for me, probably. So it was becoming harder and harder to deal with everyone commenting on how great we would be together when it was already all I could think about, and there was nothing I could do to make it come true without looking like an absolute predator.

Still, there was no denying that my favorite part about this particular press tour had been getting to spend time with her. She was just the perfect company, especially in a situation like this, which frankly could easily become tiresome and irritating. She just had this way of being able to read me and know what I needed, so she’d easily take over when she noticed an interviewer was getting on my nerves or overstepping some boundaries.

She was quickly becoming my favorite person, but unfortunately, the rest of our cast had noticed as much. And so that meant that for the last day or so, I’d forced myself to pull away from her, deliberately sitting as far away as possible and not even glancing her way whenever there was a camera around. I even managed to have a quick reaction when the panel moderator joked about us being the perfect couple, and I was proud of how my cry of “She’s a kid, for God’s sake!” had made everyone laugh, even my friends who had been keen on insisting I should ask her out.

So needless to say, I was in a good mood. Such a great mood, in fact, that I’d decided to ask Y/N to come back to my room so we could grab a beer and watch some movies. Asking around for where she had gone, someone pointed in the direction I thought I’d seen her head to, and after a couple of seconds, I managed to see her in the middle of the sea of people. Then it was just a matter of smoothly dodging everyone trying to lure me into pointless conversations and then she was already within ear reach.

Or so I thought, at least. I tried calling her name countless times, but she didn’t look back once. In fact, she even quickened her step, and soon enough I had to physically run so I could follow her into the elevator that could take us to the floor where we were staying.

I didn’t think too much of it, considering she probably thought I was someone else and was doing the same as I was: trying to dodge anyone who wanted to make us stay a bit longer on the crowded floor where the convention was taking place. But then we were inside the elevator and she didn’t even turn to look me in the eye.

More importantly, when I reached out to rub my thumb on her wrist, to signal that I wanted to hold her hand, the response I got was a harsh, “Is this your way of subtly hinting that you want to hold my hand? Because it’s quite cute, but I’m not in the mood for that at all.”

The attitude caught me by surprise in such a way that I was only able to snap out of it once the elevator’s doors opened, but before I could ask what the fuck was going on, she had ran out of it, walking towards her room with determination.

Oh no, she wouldn’t. There was no way I was letting her hide in her room, angry at me, when I didn’t even know what I’d done wrong. I sprung into action, running after her and managing to hold the door just before she was able to slam it in my face.

“What’s going on?” I cried out, pushing my way inside the room as she just stared up at me with hurt eyes and a pout on her lips. “What did I do?” Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms while looking away from me, before I managed to pull her closer by her wrists when I pried her arms open again. “Talk to me, c’mon.”

She glanced at me with furrowed brows, quickly averting her eyes before looking back again with an unamused expression. “You’re really gonna act like you don’t know.” Anxiety coursed through my veins at a scary pace. It was clear that I’d hurt her, but I had no idea how!

“I really don’t know!” I cried out, begging her to answer me, so I could make this better. I couldn’t bear the thought of offending her, of possibly losing her… and her friendship. Since that was all I could get from her, I was gonna fight with everything to keep it. “Please, let me make it up to you.”

For a second, it seemed like she would relent. But when her eyes met mine again, it was clear that whatever she saw on mine reminded her of the reason that she was mad, because just when I started to smile, she caught a second wind, pulling her hands from me and turning her back.

“I don’t know why you’re so adamant about making me feel better. I thought I was just a kid to you.” And then, suddenly, it made sense. Flashes of what had happened not even an hour earlier played in my head, this time her face being the focus of it all. Perhaps it wasn’t perceptible for everyone else that her smile faltered when I shouted that idiotic thing, but to me it was.

To me it was, and still, back then, I didn’t see it. I chose not to see it, because I was so scared to deal with the truth. Instead, I ended up hurting her. And that was literally the last thing that I wanted.

“I-I’m sorry,” I immediately offered, raising a hand to scratch the back of my neck. “I just… I didn’t want them to start creating any narratives about us two together, you know? I mean… You know how they can get. And I can’t be… We can’t be... associated… like that.”

I knew I had screwed up even before it became clear that she wouldn’t answer. Despite how cautiously I’d tried to phrase it, it ended up sounding weird even to my own ears. And when she didn’t turn around to look me in the eye again, I didn’t know what else to do. I felt myself deflating, my heart beating desperately against my chest, terrified of losing her simply for being my stupid self.

“C’mon… You know what I mean,” I breathed out, trying to approach her and resting a hand on one of her shoulders, but she simply shook it off. “C’mon, Y/N, don’t be like that.” I made myself flinch with just how poorly I was handling that situation.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t know what to do or say. Don’t be like what? “Like a child?” I asked, my tone icy enough to layer the tension in the room with one more level of awkwardness, and I didn’t need to see Chris to know that he was a mixture of nervous and confused, at the very least.

I knew it because I was, too. I was completely thrown off by my own behaviour, as weirdly as that sounded. I didn’t know why I was so defensive, except that I did. I did know it, I just didn’t want to admit.

“Well, this child wants to be left alone. I’ll talk to you later, Chris.” And I stormed off into the bathroom, only stopping to take a breath when I was sure the door was locked behind me. I needed to put some distance between myself and him, otherwise I was gonna lose it - even worse than I already did.

But it was too late to keep on ignoring my feelings. I was forced to deal with the reality of them, at least with myself, since I knew - especially after today - that there was no way I would ever get to reveal to Chris that I’d fallen for him.

To him, I was just a kid, and that’s all I would forever be.

Weirdly, I didn’t feel like crying as I took off my clothes and stepped into the shower, decided to wash away all of the bad feelings that this day had brought me. I just felt… disappointed, like a kid who’s been dreaming about a Christmas present only to find out they’ve been given socks. I’d been hopelessly trying to ignore my feelings for Chris, but at least a small part of me still fed into the ridiculous idea that he could possibly reciprocate those sentiments.

Now that it was obvious it would never be the case, it was like a small part of me had died on that stage.

By the time I got out of the shower, some twenty minutes later, I decided to put on a loose shirt I had kept around from some ex and take a nap until it was time to be social again. Certainly my friends would want to hit the bars or at least grab some dinner, and it would provide me with the perfect occasion to apologize to Chris.

Yes, that was perfect. That would get me a few more hours where I could manage to fabricate some resemblance of control before I had to see him. And then it would all go back to the way it was: me, pretending I don’t have a crush, while he kept seeing me as a kid.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t even notice the massive body hidden beneath the covers in my bed until I went to uncover it so I could slide in.

“What the hell are you doing here? Get out of my bed,” I chastised, but Chris only gave me those annoyingly effective puppy eyes that had me groaning. “No. You don’t get to do this. I’m still mad at you, go to your room and we’ll talk about it later, but for now, just let me wallow in peace.”

But still, he didn’t let up. I tried to climb on the bed, but he was now smack down on the middle of it, still pouting with those perfect full lips of his.

“Get. out. of. the. Bed.”

“Not until you tell me what I can do for you to forgive me. C’mon, baby girl, just let me make it up to you.” When I didn’t answer, making sure to avoid his eyes, he simply reached out and grabbed me by my hips, forcing me to sit on his lap. “Please?” He quietly begged, one hand cradling my face while the other maintained its grip on my hip.

The movement had caught me by surprise, and my mouth fell open as I realized that because the shirt had ridden up, I was sat panties glued to Chris’ jeans. And if that wasn’t enough to throw me into a ridiculously horny state, the fact that I could feel just how hard he was certainly did.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Don’t be shy,” he pressed, and my eyes snapped up to meet his, finding a hazy lust that reflected mine and a very, very naugthty smirk that didn’t help my current about-to-get messy situation. “Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I took a sharp inhale, thinking about what I was about to say. Could I really do this? Should we even do this? I still wasn’t completely sure about what the hell had happened, but one thing I was certain of, and that was that I really wanted him to, “Kiss me.”

For all the reservation I expected Chris to have about this, he didn’t hesitate a single second before pulling me to meet his lips, and it was everything I thought kissing him would be like. His lips were soft and as patient as he seemed to try to be, there was an undeniable edge of neediness in the way his tongue swiped my bottom lip, begging me for entrance.

“You’re not gonna let me in, honey?” He whispered against my lips, warm breath making me shiver in his arms before I was able to gather my thoughts.

“I don’t think you deserve it.” I shrugged, but by Chris’ teasing smile, I knew I had just given him exactly what he wanted. In a quick move, he had me sprawled on the bed underneath him, while he hovered over me with dark eyes that I never thought I’d get to see outside of my dreams.

“Let me show you why you’re wrong.”

Chris’ P.O.V.

I started by rubbing the outside of her thighs until she opened her legs enough for me to settle in the space between them. I paid close attention to the way her breath hitched even with the softest of touches, incapable of stopping the grin that made its way into my face.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sensitive, baby.” She whined as I lowered myself to replace my fingers with my lips, slowly making out with the delicate skin of her inner thighs. “You see? This is why I was scared to reveal my feelings for you. It’d be so easy to ruin you.”

By the way she bit on her lower lip, I knew I had reached my goal of making her even more bothered with what I had said, and slowly, I ran my hands up her legs and grabbed her hips to pull her further down, closer to my mouth. I ran my tongue over her lower lip, just barely gathering the excess moisture, and despite how clearly affected she was, Y/N managed to grab my hair and whisper, “I think you’re full of it, Evans.” It made me smirk, but before I could even offer a comeback, she just continued, “But even if you’re right… I’d like nothing more than to be ruined by you and only you.”

A sharp inhale later and a competition of stares, I pounced on her, devouring her little pussy like I’d wish to do so many fucking times before. She was sweet, but her moans were even sweeter, and the combination of sounds and taste and smell only served to intoxicate me, make me even more thrilled about finally having this gorgeous woman underneath me.

As her juices dripped from my jaw on the bed, she kept caressing my head, keeping me closely connected to her like I would ever dream of stepping away from this moment. I wanted to stay right here forever, away from people’s judgements and the overwhelming fear that she would think this was a mistake after it was over.

And right here, as my nose brushed her clit as I plunged my tongue as far as it could go inside her hole, she came right before my eyes, her honey dripping onto my tongue as I came up to toy with her clit before at last parting with her taste.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” I pointed out, stealing her lips with mine so I could share her taste with her, so she’d know I was right. “You’re sweet all over. Shit, I really want to fuck you.” My voice became nothing but a whisper, and soon her hands were cradling my face, thumb playing with my bottom lip before I sucked it. It was true. I craved to feel her from the inside, know what it was like to possess her in that way, too.

“Then fulfill both of our wishes. I really want to be fucked by you.”

Godfuckingdamn. This girl was just perfect. I knew right then, I’d made the right choice by deciding to stick around. When she appeared wearing nothing but that shirt, I forgot all of the reasons that were holding me back from simply taking her, and even now, they didn’t seem all that important anymore.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Your wish is my command.” I heard the words and braced myself to finally feel his cock inside of me, but still, the second that its head managed to fit, a long, drawn-out moan revealed just how impossible it was for me to restrain myself as Chris stretched me open around his member.

“Fuck!” Chris shouted, and it surprised me so much that it made my eyes widen as I stared up at him, hands still holding tightly on his muscular shoulders. “Sorry! Sorry.” He repeated as he bottomed out, forehead resting against mine as he seemed to catch his breath. “I just… I imagined your moans, but hearing them is a completely different thing altogether.”

The sentence had butterflies flying in my stomach and the reality of the situation suddenly hit me. I was lying in bed completely naked with a still fully clothed Chris Evans on top of me, and his cock was filling me in ways I’d never been filled before while he kept releasing these breathy little moans that had my heart skipping a beat every damn time my mind registered them.

“Good to know I’m not the only one who has been dreaming about this,” I settled for whispering in his ear before sucking on his earlobe, and a shiver passed through his body, making me giggle.

“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss me quickly before deciding to do it again. “But I’m even more glad that this is actually happening right now.” What could I add to this? I didn’t think there were any combination of words possible. So I resigned myself to feel it, memorize every single thing about this moment when Chris started to pull out only to push back in again. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered, and in that moment, I’d let him do anything to me, just as long as he kept fucking me like this.

His thrusts felt like waves washing over the shore, bringing the tide of desire higher and higher and I could feel it reaching the point where it all changed, the point where my life would turn upside down because I would know what it felt like to cum around Chris’ cock, and the anticipation was enough to have me writhing on the unmade sheets of the hotel bed.

“Shit,” Chris chuckled, and I opened my eyes to find him staring at me with a soft look on his. “You’re unbelievable, sweetheart.” I could see the desire in his darkened pupils. I was sure it mirrored my own. “So beautiful, and you take my cock so well.”

Hearing him talk dirty was everything I’d always wished for, and I could feel myself getting even wetter around him, whines and whimpers escaping my chest as I held him closer to me.

“Fuck, I really wanna buy you a collar with my name on it. Make sure everyone knows I own you now.” The words, paired with the warmth of his breath had me clenching around him, and I fucking melted when I heard him meanly chuckle at my state - the state that he had caused me. “You want it too, huh?”

I really, really did. I’d never been one for external marks of possession, but something about this, about Chris and I, really had me going crazy for his proposal. Maybe because a part of me thought he would never want to admit this had ever happened. I thought he would try to deny it, and so to hear him wishing to boast about it… It really had me going crazy under him.

“Say it.” His voice cut through the haze, making me realize I was actually about to cum again. It took me a while to understand what it wanted, just enough to have him ordering again, in a tone of voice that made every single part of me tingle, “Say you want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“I do. I want everyone to know I’m yours and only yours, Christopher.” I don’t know if it was the desperation in my tone, my use of his full name or the fact that I came again, but that finally had him losing the control of his movements, quickly pulling out of me and jerking himself off until his cum was painted all over my stomach.

For a second, it was only our labored breaths in the bedroom, staring at each other like we couldn’t believe this had really happened. “Still think I’m a kid?” I had to laugh, biting my lower lip while trying not to show that I actually was really nervous about his reaction now that we were done. But his eyes softened, a quick kiss deposited on my lips before he cradled me in his arms, cum and all, and answered, “You’ll always be my little girl. I just want to do some very adult stuff to you.”

#chris evans smut #smut #chris evans #chris evans reader insert #chris evans reader smut #chris evans reader inserts #chris evans x reader #chris evans reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans ff #chris evans oneshot

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rogue-durin-16 · 4 years ago

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YOU DRIVE ME MAD

Summary: Fred's and Y/n's silly rivalry may have more to do with love than with hate; after a fatal incident, some confessions are made.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: brief mention of violence, blood, language (this seems a lot darker than it is lmao)

A/N: idk man I just love this idiot so here it comes another oneshot. The reader's house is not specified btw. Enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Fred spotted me and walked to stand near me before asking jokingly "On your way to kill a man, Y/n?" Oh, little did he know.

"what is that?!" I exclaimed at the sight of my friend's bruised arm.

"uhm... Nothing."

"who did that to you?" I knew the answer before I even got it. My friend had gone to break up with that Cormac McLaggen the previous night; she had finally listened to us and ended that toxic relationship they had, but apparently she got a souvenir from it.

"It's fine- he didn't mean to- Y/n don't do anything stupid." Too late, I saw red.

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Weasley." I curtly replied bumping his shoulder while I walked past him, making his smile drop in confusion. I never missed the opportunity to start a playful argument with him, but, as I had said, I didn't have time for that.

With the corner of my eye, I saw him joining my friends in the task of trailing after me.

I spotted the bastard chatting with his friends in the middle of the hallway that led to the Great Hall. "Oi, McLaggen!"

"Evening, Y/l/n." That filthy grin vanished from his face when I kicked him in the balls, triggering some gasps from our peers and a grunt of pain from him.

"Listen carefully, you loathsome pig." I leaned over to be eye to eye with him. "If you dare to lay a finger on my friend again— if you even think about it— I'll become your personal nightmare." I stood upright again, his eyes full of hate and rage following my movements. "You don't deserve a bloody warning, but I'm a generous woman." Poison dripped off my tongue, my eyes throwing daggers at him as I stepped back and turned around.

My eyes met Fred's worried ones while I made my way to my friends; they surely had told him enough for the ginger to know this was no time for joking and teasing.

His gaze then flickered behind me with panic and I realized a tad too late I shouldn't have turned my back to McLaggen; at the end of the day, pride overpowered honour in a lot of Gryffindors.

I spun around, grabbing my wand from my pocket, but I wasn't fast enough; before I knew what was happening, Fred was in front of me, serving as a human shield from the jinx.

The unknown spell hit his back and propelled us in my friends' direction. I was quickly on my knees, sitting Fred up and earning a grunt in the process, which I initially thought was caused by the fall. "Are you mental?!" My friend casted an Expelliarmus at the younger Gryffindor, long forgotten due to Fred's actions.

"My back— AH!" He yelped when I tried to pull him up.

"OI!" A first year who had made his way to the first row of students frantically gestured at Fred's back. "He's bleeding!!"

"What?!" I made him lean on me to take a look at his white shirt, now stained with blood. What I thought to be a harmless jinx turned out to be fatal.

"He's not supposed to be bleeding!" Cormac shouted, as panicked as I was.

One of my friends said something about going to look for George while the others shoot off to look for Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm gonna kill him..." Fred mumbled through gritted teeth, his voice shaky and weak. He felt so fragile in my arms, and I couldn't help the tears stinging my eyes.

"Fred—" his hands, which had been gripping my forearms, lost strength as the boy's body relaxed. "For fuck's sake don't fall asleep."

"... 'm trying..."

"FREDDIE!" His twin brother rushed to us, falling on his knees by his brother's side.

"I'm sorry." McLaggen had walked to us, keeping a safe distance.

"YOU'RE DEAD MCLAGGEN!" George stood up before I could stop him. Luckily for everyone, Madam Pomfrey showed up.

"Oh Lord! Mister Weasley, quick! Help me with your brother!" The Healer commanded, and soon they were pulling Fred off my grasp and rushing to the infirmary.

I was left in the middle of the hallway with my friends showering me with worried questions and reassurance.

What the fuck had just happened?

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

During dinner, several girls and a couple of boys came to congratulate me for kicking McLaggen's balls, and it would have been a lot more satisfactory if Fred Weasley hadn't stepped in the middle.

As soon as I finished my meal, I headed to the infirmary through the now quiet halls, only to find there were too many people visiting.

Of course, George was there, along with their younger siblings and Lee Jordan, but in front of them stood Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and none other than Cormac McLaggen himself.

"—already told you it wasn't for you!"

"How is that an apology, Mister McLaggen?" McGonagall scolded him, refraining herself from hitting the boy herself.

"You better fucking run, McLaggen, because the moment I can step out of this bed I swear on Godric I will—"

"Enough, Mister Weasley!" I almost pitied the poor woman. Her House was probably the most problematic. "All of you must go to your dormitories, Mister Weasley needs to rest." I stood on the entrance of the room, unsure of whether I should leave or enter, until Flitwick's eyes landed on my form. He redirected McGonagall's attention to me, and I felt the need of shying away. "Miss Y/l/n," I didn't miss the failed attempt of Fred to move; luckily, he was stopped by his sister. "I suppose you wanted to pay a visit?"

"Uhm... I did, Professor." I confessed, fidgeting with the sleeves of my robe. "I know it's late—"

"Don't take too long." She spoke, motioning everyone to follow her. "Curfew is still at 10." She reminded me in a warning tone, passing by.

As soon as they were out, I made my way to Fred, who lay on his stomach in one of the beds, the sheets only covering his legs an hips in order to avoid the clothing chaffing his damaged skin.

"You have a heart after all, huh?" He teased once I stood in front of him.

"How are you?" He frowned at my genuine question; the ginger surely expected me to make a witty comeback, but again, it didn't seem the time.

"A tad better." He gave me a reassuring half smile, deciding to drop our banter for a night. "Flitwick said he used a stinging jinx but casted it wrong." Fred huffed. "A bloody tosser."

He motioned at the chair behind me and I sat down, scooting closer to the bed. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he had jumped in front of me. It had hit his back, but I knew it was meant to hit my face —what a mess that would have been—, and I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"It's not on you." I felt my face flaring up at the ease with which he saw through me. I wasn't the first time he did that, but it was the first time he didn't use it to tease me.

"I know, I just—" I sighed. "I don't know." Though my sight was casted down, I still felt his worried gaze on me. "I'm gonna murder him."

"I reckon George will overtake us both on that." He tried to laugh but ended up in a since instead. "Or Gin. Maybe they'll team up with Ron and we'll find a corpse in the Gryffindor common room tomorrow." This time it was me who laughed. "How's your friend?"

"She'll be alright." I informed, distracting myself with a loose string at the hem of my skirt.

"And you?" I met his eyes with a hum leaving my mouth. "How are you?"

"Been better." I confessed.

Silence.

"Can you pass me the water?" I nodded, holding the glass in front of him and putting the straw in his mouth so he could take a couple of sips. "Thanks."

"No worries."

Silence again.

"Did you eat something?"

He scrunched his nose. "Not really."

"I'll go grab something from the kitchens." I didn't get far before his long fingers wrapped around my wrist.

"I'd rather have you here keeping my company." I then sat down again, his fingers only leaving my wrist to intertwin with mines. "I'm not hungry anyway."

More silence.

"Your hand is really soft." I reckon those words involuntarily escaped his lips by the way his eyes widened. "I don't know why I said that."

"Yours is too, surprisingly."

"Surprisingly?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I didn't quite realise what his grin was about until I spoke again.

"I imagined they'd be more rough." Oh no. "That came out wrong— I meant—"

"That you've imagined what my hands would feel like?" He was trying to bite back a laugh at the way my face turned red.

"No!"

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Liar."

There we went again; the white flag was out.

"Fuck you."

"Please." My cheeks turned even redder, and I wanted to think it was because of the anger. "You look really cute when you blush."

"You look really cute when you keep your mouth shut."

"Then shut me, love." He wiggled his brows at me.

"I would, but I don't wanna punch you in this state."

"You're very agressive." He pointed out, shocked that I didn't get what he was implying. "I meant with a kiss."

"Ew-" I pretended to gag. "no!"

He tugged on my hand and pulled me to my knees falling right in front of his eyes with our faces inches away. "C'mon Y/l/n, we're dragging this on now." His eyes kept falling on my mouth after I had unconsciously chewed on my lower lip.

"We're... We're not dragging on anything." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

"Do you want me to start? Alright, you drive me mad." He forced his gaze to be fixed on mine. "You're annoying, rude and a pain in the arse." I huffed. "But you're also quick-witted and caring and brave." Gosh I hated how easily he made me blush. "Sometimes I want to punch you in that pretty face of yours but other times— most of the times— all I wanna do is kiss you." His thumb caressed the back of my hand. "Hell, I threw myself between you and that blonker without thinking twice!"

He raised his eyebrows, silently prompting me to say something, but I just didn't know what to say.

"Miss Y/l/n," Madam Pomfrey called, making me let go of Fred's hand an stood up. "It's almost ten o'clock! Let Mister Weasley rest." I nodded, not even looking in Fred's direction as I exited the infirmary.

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

FRED'S P. O. V.

The morning after the incident, Dean and Neville dragged in an unrecognisable McLaggen; they were probably the only ones who cared about that bloke enough to take him to Madam Pomfrey, though they did it half-heartedly.

I was discharged after three days in, right before lunch, and obviously, I was received as a hero; several people came to praise my bravery or ask how I was feeling, but I just wanted to see one person.

That night in the infirmary I was sure she felt the same way —hell, I had been sure for a couple of months— but after seeing her reaction, I didn't really know anymore.

I could always tell her it was a prank, and we would go back to our usual bickering. "Weasley!" Shit. "Fred!" She specified when the four of us turned at the call of our surname, almost jogging in my direction. "Can we talk?"

"Go ahead, darling." I prompted her without moving from my seat.

"In private?"

"Nah," I begged Godric for her not to see behind my grin the panic that produced me the mere thought of being left alone with her.

"Are you joking?" She huffed and, after taking a deep breath, she spoke. I wasn't expecting her to speak. "So you see, you're cheeky and stupid and not nearly as funny as you think." Ginny spit her pumpkin juice due to Y/n's harsh words. "but I... ugh! Okay— I want to kiss you too."

This time it was Ron who choked on his drink. "What's going on?"

"I feel like we missed an important part of this conversation." George commented.

This time it was Y/n who awaited for an answer. "This is literally the most embarrassing thing ever, so at least say something." She commanded in a rather rude tone, tapping her shoe against the floor.

I winced ever so slightly at the effort of getting up, but it was worth it when I saw her expression as I towered her; I reckon I had never seen her that sheepish before.

"That's a really mean way of saying you're attracted to me." I observed, quirking a brow at her. "Dunno why I fancy you so much."

"Well that makes the two of us." I couldn't help but chuckle at her attitude before cupping her cheeks and bring her lips to mine.

Finally.

Despite being a short, innocent kiss, was enough to make us both blush and grin like idiots.

"Awww" I rolled my eyes at my twin's mockery, knowing damn well I wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Why do I feel like I'm gonna miss you two being at each other's throat?" I couldn't care less about Ron's question as Y/n pulled me down for another kiss.

Almost bleeding to death seemed worth it in that moment.

#fred weasley x reader #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasly x reader #gred and forge #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fluff #fred Weasley hurt comfort #fred x you #fred x slytherin reader #fred weasley au

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reidyoulikeabook · 4 years ago

Text

Sometimes You Just Don’t Know the Answer

4 times you don’t know the answer, and the 1 time you do

This is the 2nd part to Personal Google! (You don’t have to read it to understand this, but it exists if you want to).

Ship: BAU!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: You’d call yourself a pretty educated individual, and most people wouldn’t argue with that, given that you’re a member of the BAU at Quantico. There’s just something about your best friend Spencer Reid that gets you all tongue tied.

Warnings: Mentions of cases and case-typical violence, mentions of alcohol, Spencer and Reader being idiots again.

Word count: 3k

A/N: The feedback (in asks and the tag reblogs) for Personal Google was so lovely and encouraging and I am very grateful for it! I only made this account a few days ago and I’m already so glad I did :) I hope this is a satisfactory second part and, requests are open!

(This is the Reid I’m imagining here)

“What is up with you and Reid?” Emily’s volume is unmoderated at the best of times but right now it’s like she’s trying to alert the entirety of Virginia to your dating woes.

Dating woes might be a stretch, actually. Somehow, just her implication that something is happening between you and Spencer (even though it isn’t, unless you count two exhausted idiots falling asleep on each other and being too bashful to ever mention it again), is enough to get you feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Nothing,” you shrug, “Well. I don’t know, honestly, nothing I guess? We haven’t spoken about that night.”

Emily’s eyes rake over you, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue.

“There’s nothing!” you object, “We just, it was accidental, we fell asleep because we were watching a documentary and we were tired and neither of us fell asleep on purpose.”

She laughs, dry and amused, “At this rate, you’ll be lucky to have sorted things out before you’re 50.”

You scowl, but it’s only because you know she’s right.

***

You don’t have much time to think about your situation with Spencer for a few weeks, considering the rate at which the cases come rolling in. This newest one arrives within about two days of the last one you’d just wrapped up. It’s actually kind of rude, you’ve decided, that the serial killers of America have decided to deny you two weekends in a row.

You’re briefed on the case quickly: four women have gone missing over the past 7 months from a small town in Ohio. There’s no distinct pattern that can be discerned among the victims, the oldest is 60 and white, the youngest is 23 and Asian-American. However, the first three have been found dead in the past two weeks, all within a mile of each other and all killed with the same MO: ligature strangulation.

“So we have no idea how he’s choosing them,” you say.

“No,” Hotch replies, with a sigh.

Meaning that this is probably going to take a while. Spencer senses the way you tense up a little as you absorb that fact. So he goes out of his way to sit next to you on the plane. Once the discussion about the case is done, he nudges you gently, “Did you bring a book?”

You shake your head, “I finished the one in my go-bag. Didn’t have a chance to replace it.”

“Would you like to read this with me?”

You place your hand on his wrist, gently turning it so you can see the cover, “Spencer this is written in Greek.”

“I can translate,” he says.

You move closer to him then, your head resting just against his plane seat and your chin almost jutting against his shoulder.

“Is this okay?”

He nods. The remaining 45 minutes of the flight are spent with him reading to you softly, adding in his own thoughts as he translates and sometimes going off on little tangents. By the time you land you’ve entirely forgotten about your ire with the case. You’re focused only on the characters he introduces you to, who are clearly in love even if they’re too stupid to see it, and the way his nose crinkles a little when he reaches a word with no direct English translation.

Whhat you don’t realise, is that you end up folding into him: head pressed against his chest. Somehow, neither of you notice how you naturally gravitate towards each other. Some pair of profilers.

Hotch sends you in different cars to the precinct, and you’re soon reminded of your frustration as you’re caught up in the hub-a-bub of the case. It’s not until you’re leaving the station, after a long and relatively fruitless briefing with the medical examiners and local PD, that you even have time to acknowledge Spencer properly again.

And even then, it’s only when Hotch says.

"You'll be sharing a room with Reid, alright?"

He’s only really asking as a formality. Nobody questions Hotch’s assignments for them. So why, then, do you feel yourself flush a little.

Why then, do you feel so embarassed replying, “Alright.”

***

There was nothing much to be nervous about with sharing a room, as it so happened. The past day and a half had been a whirlwind since the unsub had snatched a fifth victim. You’d been sleeping in shifts, making sure that some of you were awake at all times to keep working.

You were working on the geographical profile with Spencer, and had taken to driving around to look for landmarks at night, when there was nothing much else to do. There were maps but sometimes it helped just to get things embedded in your brain. And now, at 4am, you’re bursting into the conference room occupied by Spencer and Rossi, because you might just have got something.

"I have an idea,” you say, and before anybody can even respond you’re scribbling hurriedly on the whiteboard.

“Slow down kiddo,” Rossi laughs.

“Sorry I’m just,” you cut yourself off, slightly flustered and tapping your foot with frustration as you try to put the last pieces of it together, “Diana Matthews.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds.

“She was the one who lived on Lakefield right?” Rossi asks.

Annoyingly, you can’t remember off rote. Spencer sees the pinch of frustration in your brow. He senses that you’re heading for the case file.

So, he answers, “Yeah 38 Lakefield Drive.”

Smiling gratefully at him, you breathe a sigh of relief, “There’s three different stores in the area for this local electronic repair company, Gladston Digital, in this area. Two of them aren’t accounted for on the maps because these are from last year, and one of the ones on Google is pinned to the wrong street, there are two Minister Avenues and one’s on the complete opposite side of town.”

Denoting the map with annotations as you go, you continue, “All of the victims had residences within a mile of one of the three stores. And we interviewed the area manager, Paul something, he manages all three stores. He came to speak to me and Hotch while we were scoping the area.”

“Inserting himself into the investigation,” Rossi notes, “Fits the profile. A stalker like that would want to remain an illusion of control.”

“I just need to get Garcia on the phone to see if it checks out.”

Spencer just watches, slightly in awe, as you make the phone call to Garcia. She manages to cross-reference bank statements and emails, showing that all five of the victims had taken something of theirs in for repair sometime in the year before their disappearance. And he feels something in his gut. Pride? Maybe. That’s certainly a part of it.

But there’s something else in there too. Your eyes meet his, with a flicker of recognition. He realises what it is then: marvel. Your brain works so fast, and that’s not novel to him, he knows you’re intelligent but there’s just something about how fast you manage to put it all together. You conjure something out of nothing, a link that he’d missed. And he’s reminded, again, that he has to try and keep up with you sometimes. He wonders if you know that.

Probably not, he thinks. You’re rambling down the phone and gesturing with your hands, in a way you may or may not have picked up from him, and all he can think is how you look so in your element. And beautiful.

He’s a little embarassed about how normal it feels for that last observation to pop into his head.

***

“To _____!” Prentiss cheers.

8pm has rolled around. Since your revelation 16 hours earlier, you managed to confirm your thinking, apprehend Paul Bader, and save the fifth victim. All in all, a pretty good days work. It’s not just down to you, but everyone’s singing your praises so loudly it’s making you a little embarassed.

Even Hotch sets a drink down in front of you, squeezing your shoulder, “Really good work today ____.”

Fair to say you’ve probably peaked there.

Spencer is sat to your left, sipping at a Mai Tai that you know is going to have him giggly in about an hours time.

“I wasn’t trying to keep you out before,” you tell him, “I was going to come and wake you up when I got back but you were in the conference room.”

He smiles, “I know. It was my shift to sleep.”

“Bet you’re paying for that now.”

“A little,” he chuckles, “It’s worth it.”

"I just didn’t want you to think I was hanging you out to dry. You know, to make myself look good,” you decide to press further: mostly just because the team has sung your praises and that kind of attention makes you shirk at the best of times. Let alone when you’re sat with the guy responsible for creating half the damn profile.

His eyebrows furrow. You worry for a minute about what he’s going to say, but then, “I would never think that about you. We’re a team.”

He squeezes your hand. Maybe that’s your favourite thing about Spencer, really. More than the fact he remembers to get your caffeine just how you like it, more than how gentle he is with just about everybody he encounters, more than his relentless enthusiasm for your questions about whatever pops into your mind. No, it’s his modesty. The way he doesn’t even think for a moment to be prideful or arrogant about his intelligence. He genuinely roots for you in every moment, you think.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “You seem a little..quiet.”

It wasn’t until he mentioned it that you realise you’d let your thoughts run away with you, “No. I’m good. Just thinking about how good of a teacher you are.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I think so. You’ve taught me. I didn’t know the first thing about geographical profiling when I got here two years ago. I could barely read a map,” you laugh, keeping your tone sincere, “You’re a really good teacher Spence. I feel like I learn so much from just being around you.”

“I often don’t give you much choice.”

You smile, “I wouldn’t want you to. Really. I’m always interested in everything you have to say. I think you know that. But I wanted to tell you anyway. So you’re sure.”

He’s incredibly grateful you get pulled into a conversation by Morgan, giving him a moment to process.

A lifetime of being insecure. Of feeling like nobody was interested in what he had to say but not being able to really control whether he said it anyway. All this time being insecure in himself, and you liked it. Complimented him on it, even. Considered him a teacher. He doesn’t think he could articulate, in any of the languages he speaks, the sense of peace that brings him.

-----

The Mai Tai’s do make him sleepy. Buzzed, but sleepy. After being bought rounds by Hotch, Morgan, and Spencer, you’re feeling exactly the same. It’s only 10:30pm by the time you decide to make your departure for the night. This is much to the chagrin of Emily, who lolls against Rossi’s side demanding that you stay.

“Some of us have been up since 4 this morning, breaking their backs to keep this country safe,” You tease, putting on a melodramatic air just for affect, “Besides, you’re going to regret this when you have to be up and back on the jet in the morning.”

“You will, especially since you still owe me that report,” Hotch teases, with a smile.

Emily rolls her eyes, “You two are no fun.”

She’s joking, goading you, but unfortunately for her you have a sleepy Spencer nuzzling against you which is a far more pressing matter to deal with.

“Come on Spence, let’s get you to bed,” You say, gently wiggling out from under him and offering him your hand.

He pouts at the momentary loss of contact. It’s subtle. You catch it though. He links his fingers through your own, holding your hand properly, and you try not to read into it too much. He’s tipsy. He’s tired.

Ignoring the deliberately obvious eyebrow-wiggling from Morgan, you make for the lift.

“You didn’t have to come to bed just for me,” Spencer says, “I feel bad for taking you away from the others. I’m not that drunk, I could get myself to bed.”

You shake your head, “I wanted to go to bed with you.”

His eyes snap to you, a grin playing on his lips.

“I mean, I wanted to go to bed. And we’re sharing a room. So I’m going to bed with you. As in we’re going to the place where bed is, together.”

He’s just enough tipsy to be confident enough to jest, “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, “You sound like Morgan.”

“What did Morgan say?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what Morgan always says whenever anybody goes off together.”

“That they’re having sex,” He giggles, tipsiness shining through again.

“Yes, Spence, that they’re having sex.”

“But we’re not.”

The elevator dings as you arrive at your floor, saving your brain from delving into the implications of what he’s just said. And whether that was a disappointed or netural tone.

He hasn’t let go of your hand. He walks to the door with you, still keeping your hand in his. It’s hard not to let yourself read into it now. How holding hands with him could be such a casual thing. Hard not to imagine walking through bookshops with him, one hand in yours and the other picking books off the shelf he thought you’d like. The domesticity of it sickens you.

Then he lets go to cross to the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna put your pyjama’s on?” You ask.

“I wasn’t gonna sleep yet,” he says, “I was gonna...”

He looks bashful, suddenly, self-consciously licking his lower lip, “I was gonna ask if maybe you wanted to watch something with me. You can pick. I always pick.”

“This an excuse to get me in bed with you again, Spence?” You tease, just past tipsy enough not to care that this is the first time you’ve even acknowledged that night.

"Yeah, the Pearl Harbour ruse doesn’t work twice,” he jokes.

You wish you could find the courage to tease him more. Unfortunately, the liquid courage seems to have run out, and the topic somehow feels too delicate to touch.. Instead, you change quickly into your pyjama’s. Together, you pick something to watch, settling down. You’re suddenly thankful for the single bed, the necessity to be cozied up against him as you watch. To feel his chest, every beat of his heart. You swear it’s beating fast. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

***

Just like last time, you wake up huddled against Spencer. Unlike last time, there’s no Emily banging the door down to drag you to the police station. No, it’s quiet.

You can’t see what time it is because there’s a Spencer between you and the clock. Your phone is in your back pocket but it’s hard to find any motivation whatsoever to move when you’re like this: face pressed into his chest, his head resting atop of yours so a single curl of his hair tickles your nose, his hand on your hip holding you against him.

His eyelashes flutter, “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I just woke up.”

He smiles, “Me too.”

“Looks like we did it again.”

“Looks like we did,” his voice is quiet.

“Do you want me to move? If I’m...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His free hand comes up to your chin, tipping it so you’re looking him directly in the eyes. His pupils are dilated. In the dim light it’s hard to place the look on his face exactly. But it’s soft.

"C-Can I kiss you?” the question spills quickly from his lips, like he’s afraid he’ll change his mind if he doesn’t get it out fast, “I just. I don’t know if that’s what you want too, I’ve just really-”

"Kiss me, Spence. Please kiss me.”

The smile on his face would have made you fall in love with him, if you weren’t already. And then he kisses you. Barely. Your lips are just grazing against one anothers. You tilt yourself upwards, towards him, giving him a better angle. Then he really kisses you, capturing your lips in his. It’s sweet, it’s soft, it’s...it’s everything. It’s everything, how his hands tangle themselves tentatively in your hair, how he kisses you so deeply, drinking you in.

His hand cups your cheek, then he’s pulling back, just a tiny bit, to mumble against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

The only appropriate way you can think to verbalise your agreement, is closing the gap between your lips again. There’s an urgency to it this time. Your lips move quickly, passionately. He swipes his tongue across your lower lip and you let him in, your tongues delicately dancing together. He’s good. He’s good and you don’t even notice the morning breath or faint taste of rum, it’s just Spencer.

When you finally come apart, you’re out of breath.

“I didn’t think you’d ever do that,” you say, “I was worried I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

He frowns then, that little nose crinkle appearing again, “I thought I was too obvious.”

“So did I. Maybe it’s best if we don’t tell Hotch how bad we are at profiling each other. He might rethink his decision to take us on.”

He laughs, “Not being able to profile when somebody’s in love with you might be a cause for concern. There are several obvious phyical signs of love, including dilation of pupils when looking at the object of your affection, heart rate synchronisation.”

“How am I supposed to know if our heart rates have synchronised?”

He smiles. Pressing a finger to your lips, he dips his head in the small chasm between your two chests. In the silence, in the early morning quiet, in the absence of all distraction you can hear it. The steady thrum of your hearts, pounding away at identical paces. The sound that told you that some part of you had always known.

--------------

Tagslist: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from this list)

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x you #bau!reader

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