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reiderwriter · 4 months ago

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I Won't Let You Forget

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When you wake up in a familiar yet unfamiliar bed with no memory of begging your long-time work crush to sleep with you, you have even less recollection of him actually agreeing. Small memories of pleasure haunt you as he tries to figure out why you're suddenly so distant.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!! Alcohol use (whole BAU team, and as a precursor to sex), implied smut, on page (?) smut, dom-ish!Spencer, male masturbation, marking, nipple play/torture, edging, penetrative sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, semi-public sex/ make out, creampie, reader is very into male moans. That should be it.

A/N: I forgot about this fic TWICE, but it's here!!! Posting again for @imagining-in-the-margins FWB challenge, and I feel like this one slightly misses the mark but it works anyway. Gif inspiration is at the end for anyone familiar with Business Proposal lol

Masterlist

Being an FBI Agent means you'd slept in - and woken up in - some sketchy places on jobs. A number or motel and hotel rooms across the backroads of America, planes, cars, and office desks. You could usually orient yourself pretty well upon waking, and remember how you'd gotten yourself there quickly.

There was something strange about that morning in particular, though. The bed was comfier and warmer than any motel you'd ever seen, and the fact that there was one meant no jet or desk. It was pitch black outside, though, so visually, you were out of luck. The sheets smelt fresh and familiar, and if weren't for a small warning bell in the back of your head, you'd have shut your eyes again and huddled against the large body pressed against your back.

‘Ah,’ you thought, inwardly cringing. ‘That would be it then.’

Slowly, you pulled what you assumed to be a man's arm from around your midsection, trying to extricate yourself quietly from the bed without any notice.

Whoever was asleep behind you, though, was a lot stronger than you had bargained for, and he quickly pulled you back into him.

Your back hit his chest as he nuzzled into your neck, and you heard his groan out a greeting before stilling and returning to the land of rest. If anything, for your troubles you just came to an understanding that whoever was behind you was just as naked as you were, and based on the way your body seemed over stretched, and well-rested, you had no doubt about the events leading upto your discovery.

You just had no memory of it either.

You wracked your brain, trying desperately to recall where you were, who you were with, and what you were going to do to get out. Unluckily for you, your brain was at about half capacity as his hands worked their way between your legs, even as he slept.

His hands were soft, his touch light on your skin, as if he were tracing words along a page. You twitched under him, stomach flipping as your hips bucked backwards, and your eyes dropped closed again.

You hadn't a clue who you'd climbed into bed with, you simply had the greatest regret that you'd likely never see him again, and would not remember what was likely a deeply, deeply satisfying night.

In abject mortification, you tried once more to free yourself from the very pleasurable prison you'd found yourself in.

Thankfully, his hands chose that moment to fall limp, and you took your chance, hopping up and searching the floor for at the very least your underwear before chancing a glance around you.

Like an arrow through the heart, you realised the room was familiar because you had slept here before. You'd slept over at Spencer's house many times, after work ran late and you needed a place to crash.

Never naked, though. Until now.

You pulled on your clothes as fast as you physically could and tried not to squeak out your disbelief. You almost wondered if you hit your head hard enough against the bookshelf, some braincells would knock together and produce the memory you'd been desperate to make for half a year.

You had finally succeeded in bedding Spencer Reid. And you didn't remember a moment of it.

It was grief that drove you out of his house at 5 am. on a Saturday morning, and definitely, absolutely no regret.

Stepping outside the dark building and being greeted by the first hints of a sunrise, one single, trifling memory slipped back into your brain.

“Something casual,” you giggled, every 's' sound slurring together with each letter touching them. “Something casual and naughty, and fun.”

You didn't remember his exact reply, but though a flicker of arousal ran through you at the memory of the deep rumble of his voice. He had been close, his mouth next to your ear.

You supposed now that his reply hardly mattered when you knew the outcome anyway. It'd been the man himself wrapped around you in bed that morning, his fingers grazing your skin, his cock hard against your ass, his dreams obviously clearer than your own memories.

“It's not like we have the time to see other people,” you'd said to him the night before, hand pushing up his thigh to signal your intent. “We can have some fun. Share a motel room now and then.”

Four sentences.

Four sentences were the extent of your memories, and each one of them had been said by you. Not even a single reply flittered through your brain anymore, a single reaction.

You'd have thought it all a dream but for the fact that you were hunched outside the main entrance to Spencer's building, sans pair of panties you couldn't locate, thanking the gods that your very expensive bra was still around and that you'd worn pants the night before.

To say that Spencer was similarly disorientated when he woke hours later was an understatement. Of course, with the caveat that he remembered every word, every breath, every touch and movement. Instead, he was surprised to find you gone, without a word.

You'd promised as much last night, though.

Casual sex. That's what you'd asked for, and what he'd spent the better half of an evening trying to talk you out of, first with words and then with actions.

It didn't take a night together with you for Spencer Reid to realise that what he wanted quickly bypassed casual. Even now, alone in bed with the memory of you, your scent buried deep in his sheets, the history of your lips branded into his skin, he felt an overwhelming longing.

His body protested against his interrupted plans. He'd hoped to wake you up much the same way he'd put you to sleep the night before, limbs tangled, his cock buried deep inside of you. Instead, he swung his legs out of bed and looked for any trace of you.

It didn't take him long to find your accidental gift. He'd been the one to remove them from you the night before, and he had a good grasp of what the room was supposed to look like, so spotting a pair of fire truck red panties tucked by the door wasn't hard.

It was less spotting them and more staring at them until he convinced his body to calm down, which in and of itself was like fighting a losing battle.

He'd woken up hard, which he didn't doubt was due to dreams of you. He tried his best to ignore it, but before he knew it, he was laid back down with your discarded panties in his hand, pressed up to his mouth and nose as he worked out his frustrations.

Usually, he tried to get himself off as quickly as possible. Time was a commodity, and he always had to be somewhere doing something. That morning, though, he gladly sat back and indulged.

His brain queued up the memories of the night before, playing them chronologically so he could enjoy the feeling of your lips on his, your legs gripping around him, your tongue flicking at the tip of his dick. When he finally came, it was with the disappointment that he hadn't gotten to the best bit yet, finally pushing inside of you.

But after a night of activity and a lonely morning, he let himself rest again and turned his mind to other objectives.

1. Get your panties back to you without being put in handcuffs for indecency.

2. Have enough casual sex with you that you realise you no longer want casual, but something more.

3. Change the bedsheets.

The following week at the BAU was - thankfully - a blur of cases, consultations, and computer files. You were swept off on another case by Sunday evening, back in two days and off again by Thursday morning. Before you knew it, an entire week had passed, and you hadn't had to discuss anything with anyone.

Every morning walking into the bullpen was like walking on shards of broken glass. Willingly.

You'd said less than four sentences to Spencer since you'd accidentally on purpose thrown yourself into his lap, and you found yourself suddenly lacking the vocabulary to actually bring it up.

Instead, you'd simply chosen to sigh after him as he did anything at all in the office, with a single thought in your head: ‘Did he keep the glasses on while we fucked?’

He'd been wearing them all week, and you always thought they made him look hotter than he already was. A little nerdy, but in a Superman way. You couldn't for the life of you get the memory to pop back into your head, though, despite prompting it with many out of pocket daydreams.

“What's got you all introspective?” Derek asked, striding up beside you in the office kitchenette.

“Nothing in particular, what makes you ask?”

“Well, Princess, you just poured salt in your coffee, and from memory, you don't take it that way, so maybe there's something going on with you.”

You cursed and emptied your cup quickly as the man laughed.

“Take it what way?” A voice called out from the doorway, and every hair on your body stood on high alert. There was something about Spencer saying ‘take it’ that should've been so casual, but sent shudders across your body as you heard the words whispered into your ear.

“Take it like a good girl, that's right. So good for me.”

Your cup almost went crashing to the floor as your ears pricked, but you refused to turn around for fear he'd read the truth on your face.

“Nothing kid,” Morgan said, chuckling as you rinsed your cup and kept rinsing it until you felt yourself cool down a bit.

“What's up with the glasses? You've been wearing them a lot this week.” Derek asked, and you cursed his sudden onset curiosity, knowing there was no way to dismiss yourself from the room without garnering an entirely new set of questions.

“I just ran out of contacts,” Spencer replied, but you heard the grin in his tone without even having to look at him.

“You should just throw out all of your contacts,” you'd said, as you nipped at his throat. “I swear I'd jump you every day if you looked at me like that down your glasses.”

You tried to remain composed as the memory of straddling him and grinding down against his hard member hit you like a freight train. You felt you managed it well until you looked down to see another ruined, salty coffee.

“If you ever want to fuck me, just, like, come in wearing the glasses. I'll know,” you'd moaned as his hands gripped your hips controlling your rhythm and pressing you harder into him. “Fuck, I’ll know.”

“I give up,” you mumbled and took off, avoiding all eye contact as you left the small space.

A small part of you had wished that Spencer had your memory of the night. The smallest, teeniest part of you that didn't want a do-over that was. Getting possible confirmation that he remembered everything you'd said while drunk on dick (and tequila) was a lot to take on at 2 pm. on a Friday.

As you walked away, you sent up a prayer to every deity you could think that the memories came back whole and intact, and quickly, and preferably while you were alone and not in company.

Because you wanted nothing more than to relive that brief bite of pleasure you'd been granted.

The weekend came and went fairly obstruction free, even if your dreams, waking and not, were filled with the image of Spencer's head tipped back as you raked your teeth and tongue over sensitive areas.

It took you all the way until Monday morning, when you'd returned to work and seen Spencer in the glasses once again, to remember the meaning of the words you'd thrown at him.

Spencer wanted to fuck you again. Still. Continuously?

The thought made you a little apprehensive - he already knew your body, from the sounds of it, he'd definitely been competent enough, and you was left stranded on the desert island of short term memory loss. He wanted to fuck him you again. Was there a reason? Was there something you did that he enjoyed? What were his boundaries? His kinks? What positions did he like?

Half your days now, it seemed, were filled with questions about sex with Spencer. So it wasn't a surprise you'd kept up your staring. You couldn't fault him for having his eyes trained on you more times than not as well.

You were so glad that your emotions on the subject were so tangled and crossed that no one else could read them there.

BAU 0-1 EMOTIONAL TURMOIL

It was lucky, though, that you were watching him near constantly and were the first to notice the flash of purple against his neck as he loosened his tie.

You stood with a startling bang, hitting your knee against the table as you sprinted over to his desk.

Leaning over him, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and, tugging him around so he was facing you, began buttoning it for him.

“Y/N,” he whispered, looking up at you and trying to play this off as a daily occurrence, to not alert the room full of human lie detectors to suspicious behaviour.

“What are you doing?”

“Your tie is loose. Strauss is always visiting these days. Let's not give her petty reasons to penalise us.”

He relaxed more into your touch and let you work, tilting his head so your hands could get where they needed to be.

“So you're being a good friend?” he asked, and despite the obvious bait, you answered.

“Yes.”

“Good friends help each other out.”

“We can still be friends, Spencer,” you'd begged as you fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to get it off so you had more skin to taste. “Good friends who help each other out from time to time. Like this.”

“Your neck is still purple,” you whispered, changing the subject and moving on to his tie as you untied it and levelled it again, ready to twist back up.

“Is yours?”

“You can see my neck, it's fine.”

“That's not what I meant.”

You met his eyes finally, completing the last loop of the knot as you challenged him.

Or rather, challenged yourself to not drop your eyes to his lips.

“Say what you mean,” you glared, straightening his shoulders and brushing off non-existent dust as you attempted to slip away.

“The purple marks on you. I didn't leave them on your neck. Are they still… bright?”

You looked around you. Emily and Derek seemed to be giving you slightly weird looks, but both seemed trapped on business phone calls that wouldn't end anytime soon.

You'd noticed the marks straight away, of course, across the tops of your breasts and surrounding them, as if that area had been the coordinates for a targeted assault. Now, though, with his eyes burning a path down from your eyes to your chest as loudly as a person could ever look, you knew just how true that was.

“Spencer, fuck YES!” You had moaned the second your back hit the mattress of his bed. You'd been drinking together on his sofa, but were ecstatic to graduate to the bedroom and lose half your clothes in the process.

With greedy hands, he'd ripped away your bra, and immediately he'd latched on with his mouth, sucking, biting, licking, fondling. He bruised one spot with his mouth while his hand tortured a nipple, first ignoring it, circling it but not touching it directly, and then pulling it to the border of pain and pleasure before switching hand and mouth and repeating the process.

Back in the present, you looked down at Spencer in his seat, breathed deeply, and replied.

“You know as well as I do that you made them to last.”

“So we match, then?” he asked, and you gave a quick nod before escaping back to the relative sanity of your desk. His eyes didn't leave your chest though, and for the whole afternoon, you wondered if he'd invented a way to look so hard that you bruised further.

If you had to give one reason why you loved your job, you'd probably say because you spent your day solving riddles and puzzles and getting to the bottom of situations. You liked clear-cut explanations for things and couldn't stand the roundabout ways people in other professions had to talk to each other. You'd listen to Hotch walk laps around other lawyers in legalese enough times to know you were no fan of espionage or double talk.

So there was only one downside of the job, and that was having to be covert. If you'd wanted to spy, you'd have joined the CIA instead.

Your most recent case, unfortunately, had landed you doing exactly that. It had also landed you in a closet, chest to chest with Spencer Reid, as you listened into a conversation between two likely suspects.

In the first five minutes, you gained the important information you needed, and the next forty-five was a waiting game to see when they'd finally get out so you could escape.

If you'd been alone, you wouldn't have minded. But with Spencer's 6 foot something frame practically wrapped around your own, your spine was ramrod straight, your thoughts turning back to frustration as you urged your brain to give back the night of memories you'd lost.

Because if he felt this good just stood next to you, you would go crazy imagining how good he felt inside you.

The most you managed to squeak out, after nearly an hour wrapped around each other, though, was “Do you get a sense of Deja Vu here?”

It was the first time you'd turned your head to look at him, having been looking to the door the entire time. But your gaze returned to him, and even the shadows of the closet couldn't hide the obvious list dripping from his eyes as he covertly stared down your shirt. Your breasts had popped up a bit more with him squished up against you, and your hands were pinned to the wall beside your waist should you need to draw your gun quickly if found.

Your companion, instead, was in a world of his own, and you were suddenly grateful that he'd kept at least an inch of space between your hips, knowing that you, too, would be a goner if you had to stand against the hard line of his cock for this long.

“Hmm?” He whispered, still staring at the little speckles of faded yellow and purple that popped out of your suddenly too low shirt.

“Deja vu?” You asked again, slightly breathless and dizzy, a side effect of his lusty gaze.

He raised an eyebrow and gave a slow nod, his hands gripping your waist and pinning you more firmly to the wall as he debated giving into temptation. “We've definitely been here before.”

A snippet of a memory caught you unaware, and you gasped in response.

He pinned your hands above your head against the wall as you crashed your way into the bedroom, his fingers too impatient to undress you to start pleasuring you. Without a warning, he slipped a hand up your dress and down your panties, keeping you in place with one impossibly large hand as the other skilfully drew out moan after moan with soft caresses.

“So fucking wet for me,” he groaned against your lips, as your memory melted away to reality.

You were being edged by your goddamn frontal cortex, and you had absolutely had enough. As soon as the suspects left, you raced out of the closet as fast as your feet could carry you away from the torment.

A week of solid case work, avoiding Spencer and hitting your head against a brick wall in your spare time later, and you found yourself attending a hasty work celebration with the team.

A murderer had been caught job well done, or whatever excuse you needed to unwind after work over a few large pizzas.

“All I'm saying is, a deep dish every now and again would be appreciated. We're never that far from Chicago.”

“We're 613 miles away from Chicago.”

You laughed at the tired face Derek flashed the team before biting into his slice, your other coworkers similarly tucking into the late night meal.

You'd landed at 11pm, and starving, had come to your last resort.

“Is anyone else's pizza wet?” Emily asked, picking up her slice and letting it drip onto her cardboard plate.

You shrugged at the comment, just happy to finally be filling your stomach with something other than coffee for the first time in what felt like forever.

But there seemed to be no rest for the wicked, and you caught Spencer's eye as you tugged the cheese into your mouth.

“Mhmm. So wet.”

There was no reality in which you stopped yourself from choking on your food then, as he kept a quiet smile on his face as the others offered you drinks and tissues.

Perched next to him, you shot him a dirty look out of the corner of your eye and were about to turn back to your meal when he moved again.

Bringing a tissue to your lips, he wiped away the grease from the corners, quietly berating you as he cleaned you like a child.

“So messy. Don't choke on it next time.”

The double entendre didn't go unnoticed, as Derek piled on quickly, not noticing the unsettling mix of deep, bitter embarrassment and utter arousal warring on your features.

“Kid, you don't have to tell the woman to swallow. I'm sure she's perfectly capable.”

Each memory that hit you came with a wave of matching mortification, as you tried to keep every reaction to yourself.

But remembering the feeling of Spencer Reid's cum shooting across your face was something you'd much rather have experienced privately. You stayed trapped into much too intimate eye contact with him anyway as he kept tending to your small spills. He wiped away the drops of grease on your legs, gripping your thigh much tighter than you could ever have possibly needed.

Evidently, your coworkers had found some satisfaction with the pizza, as they all seemed to not notice the tension a simple touch had snapped between the two of you. Using their hunger as a shield, you quickly excused yourself from the table to clean yourself up.

The door to the bathroom was only a step away from the door to the alley, and you quickly let yourself out into the crisp night air. Not even two minutes later, Spencer was with you.

“Y/N?”

“Oh god, it's happening again. I can hear his voice!”

“Y/N, please, come back inside.”

“Sure, if you stop trying to eye fuck me in front of my boss!”

With the words finally out in the open between you, you stood still for a best or two, letting Spencer pick up the slack in the conversation.

“The… The others were talking about going to get some drinks,” he started carefully, afraid you'd spook at any moment. “After pizza?”

“Drinks?”

“Alcohol.”

You gave a short bitter laugh and brushed a hand through your hair as you turned your face away from him.

“I seem to make a lot of mistakes when I'm drunk.”

“Mistakes?” He said. The word was so quietly hurt that you instantly winced, realising your mistake.

“No. No. That's not how I meant it, Spencer, I just…” you grabbed your hair in frustration again, trying desperately to find the words to explain the gaping void where pleasing memories should've been.

“Everyone… everyone is still inside, right? No chance of a surprise visit from anyone.”

“They're debating Hawaiian pizza, I think we have time. Why?”

Another minute passed as you thought through your next actions, leg shaking as you processed every possible emotion.

Lunging toward him, you grabbed a hold of his shirt and pressed up to meet him in a kiss. Responding quickly, his hands gladly claimed a hold of your body as he walked you back against the wall, his mouth furiously engaged with your own in a battle of lust.

“I don't-” you gasped between kisses, unable to get more than a word in as his tongue works his way into your mouth. He pulled away eventually, but only to distract you further with a wandering tongue exploring the plains of skin already on show. Neck, lips, cheeks, collar, nothing is safe from the hear of his tongue tracing up and down the length of you..

“Don't what?” He said, finally finding the willpower to pull back for more than a millisecond.

“I don't remember. Any of it, I can't remember. God, I'm so stupid. Why don't I remember?”

For a second, his tongue kept up its journey, and you moaned as he nipped at the edge of your ear. That was until your words hit his ears and his hands flew up faster than you could've ever pushed them off.

“What?”

“I don't-” panic surged in your voice as you felt it tremble and shake, gulping it down to continue.

“I don't remember anything. And I woke up in your bed, and it felt so good and nice, but I couldn't remember it until you started doing things, and then I remembered… small parts?"

He raked a hand through his hair and took a deep breath as you continued, desperate to get every word out as fast as possible.

“I-I-I, shit Spencer, I woke up feeling so good, and then I saw you there, and I couldn't remember a thing. Do you know how long I was waiting for something to happen? I couldn't even remember one stupid fucking kiss, let alone anything else we did-”

“You seriously don't remember anything.”

“That's what I've been saying.”

He nodded and let out a shaky breath as you stepped closer to him, desperate to explain your predicament.

“You don't… you didn't just regret It and decide to leave?”

“I can't regret something I don't remember.”

Worrying his lip, he looked away for a minute and looked back, and you found yourself creeping closer again until his hands were gripping your hips again as he looked back to you.

“If you could remember, would you regret it?”

In a heartbeat, you had your answer.

“No.”

His lips crashed into yours again, and you gladly moaned into this one. With one hand buried in curls and the other pulling him closer by his loose tie, your hands stayed fastened to his body, clutching him like there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

His hands followed suit, falling down to your thighs as he spread your legs further apart, holding you against the wall and lifting you just slightly, angling your hips together in a way that numbed your senses.

Everywhere you touched left you craving further exploration, to be closer to him, and you whined in his mouth as if to let him know what you so dearly craved.

He listened and gave in, his fingers pushing to the centre of you, mere centimetres away from where you wanted him.

It was as if God was laughing down at your struggle, though, as just as he was about to make contact, a shout of your names rang out around the corner. Just as Penelope rounded into the alleyway, you shoved Spencer away, accidentally flinging him to the ground as you desperately righted yourself again.

“There you two are. What are you doing out here?”

“Earring,” you gasped, praying it was just dark enough for Penelope to not notice that your lipstick and Spencer's lipstick were the same shade.

“I dropped an earring, and Spencer is helping me look for it.”

Slightly confused, Spencer quickly went along with your lie, patting the ground where he'd fallen to look for the imaginary jewellery.

“Okay. Well, we're hopping over to the bar next door, and no! This is not optional, Emily already ordered the first round.”

Without another word or explanation, or anything to really help you figure out what was going on with you and Spencer, the two of you awkwardly followed Penelope into the bar and to your seats.

You stuffed yourself into the seat beside Penelope, and were not at all upset when Spencer climbed into the booth right beside you, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you knees bumping every now and then from the movements.

And just like that, you found yourself drinking for another two hours, unable to process any of the emotions you'd been through in the alley.

Elation. Desperation. Sadness. Arousal. All stuck in your tiny, tiny brain as you tried still to remember any small detail you could about your last encounter.

Your look of concentration didn't go unnoticed.

“Y/N, what's with the pensive look?” Derek shot at you across the table as he finished the last dregs of his beer. “Is it perhaps the melancholy of singleness?”

“That's not a word,” Spencer mumbled into his own drink.

When Penelope joined in, you knew you'd been backed into a corner.

“Are you not seeing someone?” She asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“There was that guy you mentioned last week, right?” The sound of betrayal came directly from the other side of you, and your head whipped from Penelope to Spencer so fast, you were sure you'd be feeling it in the morning.

“What? What guy, Y/N? You never mentioned a guy to me! Spencer knows, but I don't know. How is that fair?”

“No, Penelope, he's-”

“Spencer, what do you know? What's this guys name? What does he look like? What does he do for a living? When you say she mentioned him last week, was it a mention mention, or just a mention?”

“Penelope, slow down.”

“Well-”

“Spencer! Do NOT answer her.”

“You don't want me to tell her about the guy you wanted something casual with. You said you were around him a lot, so you might as well try it at some point.”

Your face burnt in shame as you narrowed your eyes at him. Had you really said that? Had that honestly been your opener for hitting on the man you'd wanted for the longest time?

“Mhmm, really? And what else did I say?”

“I don't think you'll want me to say-”

“No, please, jog my memory.”

“You said, and I quote, that he had a ‘very rideable face.’ You followed up with, ‘it would look very pretty buried between your legs.’”

The chorus of laughter that rang out only set you more on edge after the flush of memories that hit you once more. He had looked very pretty sat between your legs licking your cunt, lapping up your cum as your legs shook and you fucked yourself against his face. He had simply pressed a hand to your stomach, held you still and kept up the good work. His eyes sparkled with passion and his lips glistened with cum. It was quite the picture, now that you remembered it.

You were just annoyedeniugh, so you had to shoot back a retort. You were just too slow to realise “yes, well, I can recall that I was, in fact correct,” wasn't the right retort.

Another half hour of questioning later, and you'd finally been allowed passage out of the bar, into a taxi, and back to your apartment, alone but for the shame.

Spencer, perpetually sober-ish, had been put on designated driver duty to get others home, and it wasn't as if you could protest.

You threw yourself down onto your bed as soon as you got into your apartment and stayed there until you were about to fall asleep. A knock at your door pulled you back into the world of the woken, and you dragged yourself to the door.

You weren't surprised to see Spencer back at your side an hour after you'd left him. You knew it was a possibility, though you thought you'd be waiting another 12 hours or so.

It took less than 12 seconds for his searching eyes to find whatever silent consent he was looking for before he stretched out and claimed you. He softly cradled you as his lips met you, his gentle touch delicate where his soft lips were hard and insistent. He closed the door. He pushed you back a step at a time until you were out of the doorway. Pausing, he pulled away and took off his glasses, putting them down on the side table, before cupping your cheek and stealing your breath. Again.

You moaned into his kiss, and he slipped his hand down to your neck, gently squeezing as he moved you back towards the bed.

“Spencer…” you begged wordlessly.

“Remember now?”

“N-No.”

He nodded and continued, his other hand loosening his tie once more, as you clung to him like glue, hands not daring to move from the holds you had on his shirt, afraid you'd trip and lose sight of him all over again.

You reached the bed, and he sat you down, tearing his lips away at last, but still choosing to keep hold of your neck, standing above you.

“Are you sober?” He asked, as though he hadn't watched you drink only virgin cocktails all night. You shook your head, yes.

“Good.”

“Are you going to fuck me?” You blurted out, unable to help yourself, even without the liquid courage.

“You wanted the experience, right? And then you forgot all about it, so it's only polite…” His hands began massaging your neck, shoulders, pushing down into your shirt to get the top of your chest, too.

“I don't want the experience,” you said quickly. “Not- not a casual experience, Spencer, I want… I want…” His hands distracted you as your shirt stretched to allow his hands to grope your breasts. He slipped into your bra and began his assault of your chest, still looming above you as he listened to your explanation.

“I… don't want a casual thing, Spencer, I want- I want…” you moaned as he pinched your nipple hard, seething as you attempted to not shout out.

“What do you want, Y/N? Be specific.”

“I want you!” You moaned, chest pushing into his touch, trying to avoid the mixture of pain and pleasure pulsing through you with each flick of his finger.

“For how long?” He asked, and your brain short circuited as you whined and pouted up at him, his fingers still tugging at your nipples, still kneading your skin, and pretending his touch was nothing.

“D-don't.”

“Don't what?”

“Don't make me give this an expiration date.”

Spencer's eyes locked with yours, and you found yourself on your back swiftly after, his lips pressed to yours as he held himself over you. Instead of assaulting your chest again, he was slower, more delicate as he gently removed your shirt, encouraging you to move further up the bed as he planted himself firmly between your two legs.

Everywhere he kissed and licked and sucked was a distraction from his attempts to uncloth you, to make you forget that he was still fully dressed and you were about to be laid out plain as day before him.

You covered your chest when he stole your bra, but you couldn't push your thighs together quick enough when he got your panties, and his hand slipped between your folds before you could even catch a breath.

“Good girl,” he whispered, as his fingers found your clit, dipping into your wet spot before tracing along your bundle of nerves and rocking his fingers back and forth, eyes always on yours.

He dropped his forehead to yours and watched silently as your mouth widened to an ‘O’ as you grew wetter, more desperate, more aroused, until you hit your peak and came apart on his fingertips. He hadn't even put a finger inside you, and your whole body was awash with satisfaction.

Another kiss stolen ended all thoughts of contentment as he slid in a finger into you while slipping his tongue back into your mouth.

If his fingers on your clit had been gentle, probing, curious about your release, the fingers stretching you out were the opposite. He knew your limits, had taken pleasure in your pleasure and now he was testing it, seeing how far he could push you until you did everything once again.

His free hand reached up to your face, and before you knew it, two fingers had been inserted into your mouth. You sucked instinctively, desperate to please him as your hips jumped upwards, trying to ride his hand. But every time you so much as moved, he withdrew slightly, pulling that pleasure you so desperately sought from your grasp.

“Spencer- please-” you said as he pulled his fingers from your mouth.

“I'm not going faster. I want you to remember every second, I want this to last as long as possible, okay? Can you do that?”

You pouted as he stroked your cheek with his wet fingers, gathering the spit from your chin before pushing it right back into your mouth. You kept sucking.

Every time he felt you tighten around him, his fingers withdrew, or they stilled, or he moved in a slightly different way, and you were set adrift again on the tide of arousal. He edged you for what felt like days to your pleasure addled mind, and you kept up your task, too.

“Good girl. No more cumming. Not yet.”

Finally, he withdrew his fingers, your legs shaking from the tension of holding off your pleasure.

He stood and removed his shirt, unbuttoning his pants just enough to free his swollen cock, but not removing it entirely.

The sight of him almost made you weep in relief, so sure that now you were going to be able to cum, that he'd enter you and your get to release around his cock, to suck him in deeper.

Instead, he got on his knees in front of you and gave another sharp order.

“No cumming, remember Princess.” Without waiting for a response, his tongue dragged across your folds, before reaching your clit. His lips wrapped around your nub and your whole body reacted, convulsing inwards as you shouted your pleasure.

“Spencer! Spencer, no, please - please!!” You clawed at the bed as you fucked his face, hips pleading with his tongue to finish the job he'd begun an age ago with his scant fingers.

You desperately wanted your release, but he was equally desperate to frustrate you, pinning your hips and pulling back to just spit on your cunt when your thrusts became erratic, close to the edge.

He touched everywhere except the part where you needed him, content for a moment to listen to the moans turn to tears, turn to anger and frustration and longing as you clawed a hand in his hair and humped his tongue like a beast.

Finally, you came, more than happy to use his tongue like the pillow you'd stuffed between your legs in your horny adolescence.

He wasted no more time entering you, rigid and hot, and more than welcomed by your aching cunt.

He pushed in inch by inch, and the eternity that passed before that point was nothing in comparison to the millenia caught between one breath and the next, between him readying himself, and him thrusting into you in his entirety.

He filled you perfectly, as if you were born to let him take you, to despoil your cunt again and again, until the scent of him never left you.

He moved, pushing your knees up as you welcomed somehow more of him, as he hunched over you and began.

It was animalistic, and noisy, and messy, and fuck, was it hot. The bedsheets were wet already from your water show foreplay session, but with his cock locked inside of you, you couldn't hold back, and you came with a spurt.

You screamed, not expecting your pleasure to squirt out of you, as he fucked you harder, your breaths mingling with the wet, sloppy sounds of your cunt being used again and again and again.

“Spencer, fuck, I'm-”

“You're what? Use your words.”

“I'm… safe, just- Fuck, just fill me up.”

He groaned into your ear as he made his thrusts more and more shallow, slowing down just enough to pull back from you and let you watch him claim you again and again.

He swiped his hair out of his face, biting his lip as his hips rolled into yours, and you swear if you had it left in you, you'd have came on his cock once more watching him do that.

You committed to memory every line of his body, every bruise, every scratch, every line, every hair, everywhere a bullet had nicked him, everywhere on his body that held pain, every gesture on his body that was registering pleasure. You cared less for your own now and more for his as you bucked up into him, meeting him silently as he sucked in a deep breath.

You watched him forget himself inside of you as he tipped his head back in pleasure and, with a small moan, emptied himself inside of you.

His breath crashed back into his body, and you felt every heartbeat resonate through him and into you.

“If you forget this again,” he panted, wrapping his arms around you again. “I'm not waiting another 20 days for a reminder.”

You smiled as his hair tickled Your neck, nuzzling into his neck as you enjoyed his warmth. You tried your best to memorise his scent, too.

“Wake me up bright and early, then,” you smiled, letting your brain settle as you replayed the day back in your head over and over again.

XXX

The inspo:

(Kim Mingue one fucking chance... one chance Kim Mingue...)

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #dom spencer reid

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calliesmemes · 11 months ago

Text

EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“ It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“ Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“ I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“ Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“ Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“ Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“ Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“ My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“ Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“ It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“ If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“ Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“ I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“ I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“ I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“ Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“ Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“ I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“ Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“ i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“ These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“ I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“ I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“ DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“ I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“ Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“ My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“ I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“ Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“ I was born for shock value. ”

“ Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“ Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“ Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“ Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“ My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“ This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“ I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“ Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“ My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“ I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“ I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“ Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“ Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“ Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“ girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“ BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“ I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“ I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“ I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“ Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“ I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“ Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“ I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“ I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“ Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“ Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“ Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“ If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“ Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“ Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“ Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“ Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“ I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“ Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“ If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“ Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“ I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“ It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“ Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“ At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“ Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“ Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“ One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“ On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“ My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“ I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“ Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“ I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“ Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“ I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“ I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“ Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“ Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“ I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“ I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“ Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“ i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme #rpc help

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bluehoodiewoozi · 5 months ago

Text

If You Want Me

Lee Jihoon x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1,881

Warnings: lots of crying. (y/n)’s not the sharpest tool.

[Established Relationship AU] You find a strange box in your boyfriend’s drawer and it brings forth a life-changing event.

You were buzzing with unburnt energy, itching for something – anything – to do.

It was just one of those days where you couldn’t sit still. It wasn’t that you hadn’t already done much: the standard 8-hour work day was already finished and you still felt like you needed to be useful. There was so much to do and you were excited to get to it.

It was a blur of productivity. The speakers filled the apartment with the melodies of a playlist Jihoon had once made for you (you had lost track of what he made the playlist for; he had simply made you so many) as you practically waltzed around, finishing chore after chore at near magical speeds: the dishes, the laundry, the windows, the curtains. You watered the plants and gave their big green leaves a good wipe-down.

Around 11 pm, a text chimed on your phone. It was Jihoon, a heart emoji proudly on display by his contact name.

“Want anything to eat?” he asked, ever so thoughtful – or perhaps trying to avoid the awkwardness of eating alone.

You gladly replied to him, practically begging for your favourite noodle dish, and returned to organising your wardrobe. Even that task was done soon and you were once again left with a strange itch to just do something else. Literally any chore. But you had done them all already.

Well. Except Jihoon’s side of the wardrobe.

The half-wrinkled black and white t-shirts on the shelves and a random pair of sandals shoved in there was an eyesore compared to your perfectly folded blouses. He wasn’t the messiest person you had met, but he rarely had time to actually keep his closet as neat as he or you would’ve liked.

Usually you left his side for him to deal with, but – you thought to yourself – there’s no harm in helping out.

You folded his shirts properly, throwing a few stained ones to the laundry bin. You organised his jackets and sweaters by colour. You began organising his underwear drawer – the messiest of them all – when you found something curious.

It was a box. A very small one, covered in a velvety material. You thought, perhaps in a tired daze, it looked like something a piece of jewellery might come in. Earrings? Or a ring perhaps?

But why would he keep his rings in a box? He had a perfectly good jewellery tray on the nightstand – one you had handmade for him in a pottery class on a double date night. And the box couldn’t have been for you either – you rarely wore rings or jewellery of any kind and he knew that.

So what was in this box?

You tried so hard to fight the curiosity and just leave it be. You loved and trusted your boyfriend. You knew he wouldn’t hide things from you. Maybe it was a gift from someone. Maybe the box was empty and he had simply forgotten to throw it out.

But you had come this far and you were getting tired and you just had to find out. One little peek wouldn’t hurt, right? It surely couldn’t.

Against the warnings of your last rational braincells, you opened the box. Your jaw dropped in surprise.

It was, indeed, a ring. A pretty one at that. With an intricate golden band and a heart-shaped ruby in the middle. You thought to yourself that even you wouldn’t mind wearing something as beautiful as this.

But it wasn’t your ring. And, frankly, you wondered if it was really his either. Suspicions and curiosity grew and when you snapped back to reality you had already sent a photo to your friends’ chat, asking what they thought it was.

The answer was immediate and loud: “??? THAT’S CLEARLY AN ENGAGEMENT RING, YOU IDIOT?!”

Your heart dropped. Your body felt hot all over. You worried you might faint from shock.

Could it be? Was this really what they thought it was? Had you just accidentally ruined your boyfriend’s plans to propose?

And even more importantly – you thought, brain fully going into overdrive now, not even caring that the box sharply closed on your thumb as you clutched it to your chest and sunk to sit on the floor, tears burning in your eyes –, your boyfriend was going to propose? He actually wanted to marry you? It wasn’t just a tired fantasy he joked about with you late at night, giggling and joking about growing old together. He had bought a ring – an engagement ring.

Overwhelmed by your joyous feelings and the guilt of ruining what was clearly meant to be a surprise, you began to cry. Tears blurred your vision, mascara you should’ve washed off hours ago was smudging off your lashes, snot ran down your nose – you were certain you looked absolutely horrendous but you had bigger things to worry about for now.

Practically sobbing, you didn’t hear the front door opening and closing or Jihoon calling out to you from the front door, his melodious voice so full of love as he greeted you. You didn’t notice the rustling of the takeout bag or tired footsteps echoing in the apartment, nearing your location.

He walked into the bedroom, expecting to find you soundly asleep or maybe scrolling on Tiktok, ready to show him some nonsensical meme again. Even if he made fun of you for showing them to him, he greatly cherished the fact that your first thought was to share these things with him.

Instead he found you curled up in front of the closet, sobbing with a velvet box in hand. He froze. "Fuck."

Realising he’d come home, you scrambled to put the box back where you had found it and wiped your tears and runny mascara and apologised and hid your face and said, "Sorry. Don’t look at me. I’m a mess."

Jihoon only chuckled somewhat uneasily and slowly came closer, reaching out a hand to place it onto your shoulder before pulling you into a gentle hug. It was comforting. He was always comforting.

“Why are you crying?” he asked as if he wasn’t fully aware already.

"I–"

"You found the ring, right?"

"How'd you know?" you worried, eyes wide. Was he upset with you? Was he disappointed? Angry? Sad? You couldn’t live with yourself if you had made him feel bad when he had put so much thought into a future with you.

"I saw you put it away,” he pointed out so calmly that it almost lulled you into a false sense of serenity.

"Oh. That was something else,” you lied horribly. You were never a great liar, at least not to him. “What ring? I don’t know about any ring–"

"I think I know what the box of the ring I had made for you looks like, baby," he told you with a slight laugh before reaching into the drawer with his free hand and taking out the very box. Hesitating for just a moment, he then held it out for you, nodding for you to take it.

With shaking hands, you did as told. "It's for me?"

"If you want it," he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but his bright red ears and oddly glimmering eyes say he's about five seconds away from a mental breakdown of his own. He coughed to clear his throat before adding, "If you want me."

"What?"

"I– This wasn't how I planned this but," Jihoon ran a hand through his hair, “but I guess the cat's out of the bag.”

He let out a nervous laugh – the one he always did when Soonyoung or Jeonghan convinced him to do something dumb or embarrassing – before dropping to one knee right there, in front of the closet, in front of you – his girlfriend who he thought looked like a sad panda in the best way possible.

He closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath as you waited, holding your own breath. When he spoke again, his voice was hushed and gentle, as if he feared speaking any louder would give away how nervous he was feeling.

“I know this is kind of sudden and you probably weren’t expecting it,” he started, voice wavering, “but I feel like I’ll go crazy if I avoid my feelings for much longer. When I first met you, I knew I’d want you in my life for a long time – whether as a friend or as something more I didn’t know yet.

“But now I know,” Jihoon had begun crying, wiping his tears between anxious giggles when he saw your tear-stained but bright smile – an encouragement –, “I want you as my home, as my everything, as my wife. I’d sooner go insane than live a single day without calling you mine and myself yours. So,” he took the ring in one hand and your hand in his other, “I'm asking you to make me the happiest man alive and accept this ring and marry me. Will you have me?"

There was not a single doubt or even an echo of one in your mind.

“Yes. Yes!”

Nodding rapidly, almost frantically even, you semi-patiently watched him smile the brightest you had seen him do in weeks and gently place the ring around your finger. Before he could even admire the jewellery on your hand, your arms were wrapped around him, lips reaching for his to kiss him as flustered and silly as he had made you with his words.

“I love you,” you heard him whisper against your lips as he pulled you closer until there wasn’t even a molecule of air between the two of you.

You hummed and pulled back just enough to whisper back, “I love you too, future husband.”

He groaned at the words, a dumb grin on his face. “I can’t wait to marry you, seriously.”

“There’s a chapel down the street,” you half-joked (half- because you were so overcome with love for him that you wouldn’t have even mildly protested if he had gone along with the joke and made it a reality).

To your amusement, he was the one to protest, a grumpy frown taking over his previously bright and awestruck face. “I had an entire picnic planned with fairy lights and cake and live music and I even had Mingyu convinced to take photos for us, and instead I ended up proposing to you,” he glanced around the room almost judgmentally, “crying in front of the closet in our apartment, with my underwear drawer open.” He forcefully shut the offending drawer, earning a chuckle from you, before letting out a firm loud hum of protest and pulling you back into a tight hug. “I’m not letting the same happen to our wedding. You deserve the world and I’ll give it to you.”

“... So we’re not eloping then?”

“Not a chance,” he insisted, face scrunching up as if the very idea was offensive, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We’re already missing out on engagement photos. Imagine how upset our moms will be if they don’t even get wedding photos.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you chuckled, pausing before adding on, “future husband.”

He tensed for a moment. Then he spoke, “So about that chapel – do you think they take last minute walk-ins, or…?”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt scenarios #woozi scenarios #woozi x reader #woozi fluff #lee jihoon scenarios #lee jihoon x reader #seventeen fluff

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queer-n-here · 9 months ago

Note

Hear me out. Ranpo x Sugar daddy!reader

Ranpo has been distracting you working at your office lately and being quite a brat lately. He would complained about you being working too much, purposely touching your body intimately while you work, even sending you videos of him masturbating at your guys shared bedroom just to tease you.

“𝘔!𝘺/𝘯~”

You wanted to punish him for behaving badly.Later..at night time, you saw Ranpo at your guys shared bedroom and you immediately pinned him down to your guys shared bed.

“You think you can tease me all you want huh? I guess it's time for 𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚~”

This time, your not going to let him climaxed easily without him begging for you~

(Bonus: You let him buy any candies that he'd like the next day since you felt bad for punishing him)

I leave the rest to you. (Rough sex, praise kink, maybe overstimulation?)

(I have a feeling there's some misspelling words, but hey! English isn't my first language anyway-)

- 💕

Well, well, well... Will you look at that.

Y'all share the same braincell. So here goes!

Also, phew, it's been a shit ton of while since I posted. Hope y'all like it!

Content: Fucking Ranpo cus he was being a brat. (I may or may not have looked over the sugar daddy element that the req asked for, I didn't notice it, sorry!)

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, biting, praise kink, edging, overstim.

You were so frustrated it was starting to show up on your face even when you didn't want it to.

It was all Ranpo, but the people that ended up taking the brunt of it were your employees.

I mean, just look at what he did last week. You were working from home that day, head buried in files and paperwork that made an ache develop between your eyes.

Ranpo entered your study, coming over to stand beside your chair as you worked, making you look up to pass him a tired smile.

When you looked up, you saw a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your mind was preoccupied, however, so you did not pay it much attention. Ranpo lounged around the study while you worked away, the scribbling of your pen the only sound for a while. Then, he walked closer to you, and you let him plant himself on your lap, snuggling into the crook of your neck, making you smile.

Soon enough, however, you found out that Ranpo's intention was nothing wholesome. His hands started roaming, first only resorting to massaging your shoulder slightly, then moving lower. He caressed your chest through your shirt, then moved lower still to your torso, rubbing the hard abs through your clothes. His hands were wicked like the devil, and soon you felt him palm your dick through your pants.

The sudden contact made your spine stiffen, and you shot Ranpo a half-annoyed, half-aroused look.

He nuzzled into your neck, planting small kisses along the skin there as his hand rubbed slowly, and soon your pants were straining against the boner that he'd caused.

"Ranpo," Your voice was thick with arousal and you'd long abandoned the thought of work. "Do you wanna do it, baby?"

He smirked against your jaw, and you mirrored the action. Just as you were going to lift him from your lap and place him into the table, however, your phone rang.

Mr. Yaho. An important client.

Not as important as the situation at hand, though. But in the split second that you'd taken your eyes off Ranpo to check who was calling, he'd managed to slip away from your grasp.

"I see you're busy, [Name]." He said, visibly suppressing a grin. "I'll come visit later, then."

And before you could stop him, he turned on his heels and left you alone with your raging boner.

But that wasn't even the worst of it. You managed to calm yourself and take the call, that was fine. You were fine. But then your client wanted to hold an emergency meeting (that dramatic little-) so you had to rush to your office.

And during the meeting, Ranpo truly pushed his limits.

Your phone dinged, and you saw your lock screen flash with Ranpo's name on it, so you decided to check if he needed something. When you opened the message, though, you saw that it was a video.

You looked up. Your client's representative was talking, gesturing vaguely to the powerpoint presentation he had prepared. You lowered down the volume of your phone, and hit play on the video.

And were you glad you did.

The video showed you and Ranpo's shared bed, basking in the sunlight from the window next to it. But that wasn't all. Sitting on the bed was the love of your life, legs spread wide open and pressing a dildo deeper and deeper into his ass.

He made eye contact with you, with the camera, and even though the volume was down, you could tell from the way Ranpo's mouth had fallen open that he was moaning.

Your pants were suddenly suffocatingly tight.

You were in a meeting room, surrounded by people of your company, and that of another, supposedly listening to the other party's proposal about something that wasn't even important enough to remember anymore. And your lover had sent you a video of him masturbating.

You wanted to close the video and shut your phone, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the screen.

Ranpo pushed the dildo in deeper, and, throwing his head back to reveal his gorgeous neck that he knew you were obsessed with, he said something.

You read his lips without even meaning to.

"Fuck me harder, [Name]!"

"Mr. [Last Name]?" Someone called, and your head snapped up in surprise.

The entire meeting room was looking at you.

"Well," You shut your phone and placed it screen-down on the table, pretending as if you hadn't been watching anything scandalous. "The proposal is well-planned, but I fear that our budget might be able to grant us something even better than this. Suppose, if we..."

___

When you returned home, the first thing you did was drop your blazer onto the living room floor and rush to find Ranpo.

You found him in the kitchen, and he looked up innocently at you when you walked in.

"Oh, you're back ho-mmh!" You grabbed his face and kissed him roughly.

Ranpo wasn't surprised, not really. But he still acted as if he was, placing his hands against your chest as you stepped closer to him.

"[Name]!" He managed to pull away enough to say. "Wait, didn't you ju-"

And you kissed him again, grabbing his hips and squeezing them, feeling his breath hitch against you so wonderfully

You fucking needed him.

You took him to your shared bedroom, bodily throwing him onto the bed before stripping and climbing on after him.

You grabbed and Ranpo and stripped him, too, tugging at his clothes with so much force you ripped his shirt. Around then, Ranpo had already realized that the consequences of his actions were going to be more... intense than he'd expected.

You leaned down to kiss him, pinning his wrists to the bed and spreading his legs apart. Your movements were hurried and rough, and even though Ranpo wouldn't willingly admit it out loud, he loved every second of being manhandled.

"Fuck, this is what you wanted, isn't it?" You hissed against his mouth, free hand rising to grip his throat and press against his throat, making him whimper. "This is why you were being such a brat."

You could feel Ranpo growing harder and harder against your own arousal, and so you pulled away from his mouth, aligning your tip with his begging hole instead. You plunged in, and he arched his back, a loud moan leaving his lips at the sudden feeling of being stuffed full.

"Hhngh, wait, [Name]!" He said, feigning innocence. "What do you-Ahh!"

You thrusted into him, your hips rolling in that way you knew he liked. Ranpo decided to abandon his pretense, and threw his head back against the bed, hands struggling against your grip to try and find purchase to ground himself. You let them go, placing your hands on his waist instead.

You gained a rhythm, his walls nice and tight around your throbbing cock as you stretched him out on it. The sounds of your coupling were reverberated in the room, sparks of pleasure shooting up your crotch at his warmth around you. You leaned down to kiss and bite at his neck, and he subconsciously moved his head away to give you more room. His pale skin flushed red under your teeth.

"You're such a fucking brat, Ranpo." You said, your movements animalistic and fast, your gaze predatory on Ranpo. "You fucking knew I was in a meeting when you sent that video."

"What- mmph!" He grabbed your shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as you fucked him so good. "What meeting?"

Your eyes flashed with half-annoyance and half-arousal, and you pushed Ranpo's hands away, pinning his knees against his chest to gain more access of his slutty hole.

You found his sweet spot painfully easily, hitting it repeatedly and making him arch his back right off the bed as his eyes widened. He loved this, he loved you, loved the way you fucked him.

His moans had turned into cries, and he was gripping the sheets beneath him so hard you were almost distracted enough to worry whether or not he'd tear them.

"Ff-ffu-" His eyes were tearing up. "I'm gonna... Nngh! I'm gonna come!"

"Not so soon." You ordered, your voice husky amidst your pants. "D'you think I'd let you?"

"Mmh, please," Ranpo was sobbing now, holding his legs apart so you could bully his hole with your cock, rearrange his insides to the shape of it. "Please, please, [Name], please..."

His eyes were growing hazier with each thrust of yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly as your hips bludgeoned into his, your onslaught rapid and destructive. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the room, not quite drowned out by Ranpo's cries.

"You haven't been good lately, Ranpo." You clicked your tongue, your face holding a fake-sorry expression. "So I don't think I should let you."

He whined, and the tears that were slipping down his face fell down to form puddles on the bed on either side of his face.

"I'll be good from now -hic- please." He let his legs fall and wrapped his arms around your neck. "Please, [Name], I'll be so good, hmmph!"

"Hmm... still not sure, baby." Your cock felt so good, so good. Ranpo was clenching around you so tight trying to please you, it was getting harder to thrust in and out.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, fucked out so dumb the only thing he could think about was the orgasm you weren't letting him experience.

"Please," He whined. "Please, [Name], I'll be a good boy, I'll be so-Nngh! I'll be so good for you, please."

And so you took pity on him.

"Go on then, my pretty boy, such a good slut for me." You murmured in his ears, and he came immediately from the praise.

His body jolted along the bed, cock twitching as he came all over his abdomen, hole clenching so tight you released in him, too, panting and huffing but not slowing down.

His eyes widened impossibly big as he realized you weren't stopping, and more sobs racked his sensitive body as you continued assaulting it.

"[Name]," Ranpo could only whine your name, hands gripping your shoulders so hard he was drawing blood.

"Come on," You smirked, fucking him harder and faster. "You wanted this. Isn't that why you sent that video, hmm?"

And Ranpo could do nothing but whine, nodding pathetically as you fucked him stupid, fucked him till his cock was shooting blanks, till he didn't even have the strength to keep his eyes open, and passed out with you still buried inside of him.

You let him rest, deciding that you'd clean up later, and collapsed next to him, not before pulling out and watching your seed flow out from between his limp legs.

It turned you on all over again, but you simply placed a chaste kiss on Ranpo's forehead, pulled him into your arms, and let sleep take you.

---

Bonus: The next day, Ranpo was parading around the hickeys that you'd given him at the supermarket, where you'd taken him to pick out sweets as an apology for how rough you'd been the previous night.

As he turned around to look at you, pointing out another snack that he wanted to try, he passed you another bedazzling smile. You leaned forwards, placing a soft kiss on his forehead, barely aware of the fact that cart you were pushing was already full.

"Whatever you want, baby." You murmured, and Ranpo smiled wider.

"Then, can I buy all the flavors?" He asked, looking at you with the eyes that he knew you couldn't say no to.

"Of course you can."

#dom male reader #top male reader #dom reader #bungou stray dogs #sub bsd #sub bsd x you #bsd x you #sub bungou stray dog x you #sub bungou stray dogs #sub character #sub character x you #sub ranpo x you #sub ranpo

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cerealboxlore · 1 year ago

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Billy Batson related question, as always! How do you think the League would react to Black Adam knowing who the Captain is, especially when they don’t even know? (The relationship between Billy and Teth doesn’t matter, they could be allies or enemies).

Billy Batson related questions are my personal favorites!

The idea of the Justice League not knowing who Captain Marvel's secret identity is always makes me giggle :D it's the layer of mystery and unknown danger that presents itself behind not knowing who the Big Red Cheese is that keeps them on edge sometimes. They admire their friend, but sometimes they do wonder, are they his friend? What is he? An alien? A human? A monster beneath the disguise of a man? Three kobolds in a trenchcoat? Nobody knows... They do wish to get to know their friend better.

Normally, most league members have their secret identities kept, you know, a secret. With the exception that Batman knows, of course. However, even he remains stumped on this mystery. He doesn't enjoy not knowing who Captain Marvel is behind the boy scout smile he often shines, but Batman is determined to find out one day. There's almost some respect for how well the Captain manages to hide his identity and tracks.

Meanwhile, Billy is surprised he's lasted this long with a secret identity. He's working with a braincell, half an oreo cookie, and a dream.

I got sidetracked, ack! Okay, so the relationship (depending on which version of Captain Marvel and Black Adam you are familiar with) is almost always going to be personal. There's their shared relationship with the wizard Shazam, but the one I'm most familiar with and enjoy is Black Adam being the one to have killed Billy's parents. (Also, I appreciate you separating the identity of Black Adam and Teth!)

It would be absolutely amazing and gutwrenching to see Captain Marvel shake hands with a "reformed" Black Adam, possibly during a public setting with the JL in attendance, fully knowing the truth behind his parents murders and still going through with the painful decision to let him go unpunished.

For Billy, this hurts. On a deep level that scars his heart and soul for allowing his parents deaths to go unavenged. For the years of pain, he spent alone on the streets homeless and separated from his twin sister, none of it can be fully healed no matter how hard he tries to forget. Scars fade over time, but to Billy, time is eternity. This pain will follow him for eternity.

However, as Captain Marvel, he understands that there's more to the situation that he can't control, and fighting Black Adam would only make things worse. With the wisdom of Solomon, he knows he can't justify a fight against the ruler of a nation, no matter what. So he just smiles for the camera and shakes the hand of the man who orphaned him.

It is through holding Black Adam's hand that the thought passes through his mind: the hand he's holding right now was once stained with the blood of his parents.

Then, the heroes are given a moment of privacy to be around each other without the public's eyes or ears to interfere, and that's when **** hits the fan.

Captain Marvel is avoiding Black Adam, understandably, but when Black Adam loudly calls out his name among the other heroes, Billy can't help but feel rage boil inside his divine blood.

"William. I thought you knew better than to ignore others when they're trying to talk to you. Such rudeness, I am most glad your parents were not the ones to raise such behavior in you."

Whispers among the league ensues. Was that the Captain's name? Did Black Adam know Captain Marvel on a personal level rather than just a regular hero and nemesis level? Despite the eyes watching them, waiting and prepared to step in case of a fight, the Captain grits his teeth and, through miserable eyes of a broken man, chooses to smile.

"Yeah, they really were good people, Adam. I may not live up to their expectations, but I do live for them. Every day. I suppose I have you to thank for that."

"Your gratitude is most welcome, William. May one day come where you live for Mary and Frederick, as well. They would appreciate you honoring them."

Through a wicked smile, Black Adam chuckles, turning his back to take his leave back to Khandak. Leaving Captain Marvel still smiling all alone, his fists at his side curled with rage, drawing his own divine blood from the intensity of his own strength.

After that, the league would be in all rumors and whispers about Captain Marvel. From the past, they knew that Black Adam was fond of taunting the Captain with strange and mean words during their harrowing battles, but had it all been a personal dig at him all this time? Did Black Adam have a hand in accidentally giving Captain Marvel the motivation to become a hero?

Superheroes like Batman would immediately be looking into any information they learned from this and try to decipher what is the truth behind the Captain. Or should he say, "William," now having a name to the face of the hero of Fawcett. He would also be investigating Black Adam far more closely now, should the reformed man ever step out of line. If he heard right and Black Adam had indeed killed the Captain's parents, then he needed to keep an eye on Captain Marvel, too. In case of a breakdown or instability in emotions.

On the other hand, heroes like the Flash and Superman would take the time to visit the Captain in his city and check on him. They'd be concerned after seeing how pained Captain Marvel was. If a villain like Black Adam knew who the Captain was and specifically chose not to reveal his true identity to the public and just the Justice League, then perhaps there was more to it. Superman knew as well how painful it was to let a guilty man go free because he was deemed "reformed" in the eyes of the public (Lex Luthor, ew).

Overall, there would be a whole range of emotions after finding out Black Adam knows who Captain Marvel is. And I am here for it!

#this ended up way longer than anticipated #oh gosh but this was such a great ask #this was such a lovely ask #tysm for the ask!#billy batson #dc captain marvel #shazam #justice league #black adam #teth adam #angst #im sorry this took so long but you have no idea how many drafts this took to seem coherent haha #I adore the angst #Black adam bullies a child and sees nothing wrong with it

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sharenadraculea · 6 months ago

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Fem!Primarch Au Ideas

Lion El‘Jonson: Is sligthly better at social stuff. Which might just be that it‘s more socially more acceptable on Caliban for a unmarried woman to refuse to speak to men. Officially spends most of her time telling Luther what to say and letting him do the social things. Unofficially has a crossdressing knight-persona to go out and do stuff. It took E like three days to figure out that that knight and Lion are in fact the same person. Might keep the knight-persona even after beeing found. Also she had a habit of sending all suitors on impossible quests in Caliban‘s forests where they would painfully die.

Fulgrim: Chemos has little to no genders. Either you can work or you are dead, what‘s in your pants doesn‘t really matter. Anyways, then Fulgrim get‘s discovered, introduced to the concept of gender and is now very anxious about performing gender expectations correctly. It isn‘t working very well. Guess who might not actually be a woman

Perturabo: Kind of got attic-daugthered by Dammekos, because of course all of that were his ideas, not the ones of a little girl. Perty is not amused by this. She later is in possesion of at least half the warcrime‘s squad braincells (the warcrime squad is a found family thing Angron, Sang, Perty and Konrad have going on), provides all the artillery support for them and is the main Konrad-handler (after Fulgrim of course). I haven‘t yet decided how much they are kissing.

Jaghatai Khan: Something, something crossdressing. Might kiss Morty. That‘s all my notes so far.

Leman Russ: I‘m really not yet sure what to do with Leman, because I could just do some purely cosmetic changes and it would be fine enough. But also I could do some really drastic changes… for example if I remember correctly in viking culture (which is what I‘m going off for Leman) magic was seen as a womens thing so you know ice-witch Leman would be fun

Konrad Curze: Still wondering if gender is something you can eat. Mostly cosmetic changes, but they are a bit more mentally stable due to the support of the warcrime-squad. I‘m considering giving Konrad a decently bad case of has-the-voice-of-a-little-kid, because that would be pretty creepy.

Sanguinius: I‘m going with the „Sanguinus was a slave as a child“-headcanon I‘ve seen in multiple fics and really like. So Sang had some pretty dark stuff happen to her and overall ends up beeing much less nice and more angry, the vibe is „Vampire warlord collecting the heads of her enemies“ and I love it a lot.

Angron: Is still Angron, no big changes here except she and Sang are kind of a couple

Roboute Guilliman: Had to spend a significant of time arguing over beeing allowed into politics directly (instead of doing the proper thing of marrying some old guy, puppeting him from behind the scenes and cashing in on the inheritence). Also Konor is still alive in this au, since Rob happend to be in the senate that day and carrying a hidden sword for entierly non nefarious reasons.

Mortarion: So Calas Typhon‘s mother was drowned for having a child with a overlord (presumably not voluntarely). If people start to suspect something similar happend to Morty, it‘s gonna be very good that Primarchs are very hard to kill. Especially if people don‘t take „there never was a child“ for a answer for where the nonexistent kid is, and start spreading rumors that Morty killed or abandoned it.

And I don‘t yet really have much or anything at all for the rest, so Rogal Dorn, Ferrus Manus, Magnus, Horus, Lorgar, Vulkan, Corvus and Alpharius Omegon, but feel free to give me some ideas

#You might note that I have not yet decided wheter to change their names or not #Also this is just ideas not yet a proper outline #warhammer 40k #female primarch #primarchs #lion el'jonson #fulgrim #perturabo #jaghatai khan #leman russ #konrad curze #sanguinius #roboute guilliman #angron #mortarion

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webism · 2 months ago

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yes, sluts 4 Shiu club, I could kiss you, I have finally found a place to dump my Shiu thoughts >:3 The way that man would definitely smoke while fucking you, oh my lord, he def would. Ashtray by the bed/wherever he's rearranging your guts is a must, like man has one hand on your hip, the other on his cigarette and he's smoking and oh god he blows smoke in your face if you're into it- I'm eating up my walls again-

I just know that he's the type of men to bend you over the counter if you do something as simple as a coffee or cook something for him, because that man will appreciate it and treat you right, even before work. Sure he's not as muscular as Toji, but he's tall and B R O A D shoulders, oh my lord I'm turning into a puddle. I know he's a missionary enjoyer, but if you ask him prettily enough he'll throw your legs over his shoulders and almost fold you in half-

not to mention, I know that man can afford nice jewelry for you (I’m a broke college students, my biggest fantasy is a man who can buy me pretty things, I want more than my one Vivienne Westwood Ring), and will fuck you, where you're all naked except for earrings/ring/necklaces, and it's shining so pretty on your sweaty skin that man just stops and admires you for a moment- Have I mentioned that he’s def a service top, def wines and dines you before fucking you and oh my lord, imagine the scrape of his ‘stache as you’re sitting on his face-

Lord save me, my braincells and legs are offline. I hope I’m not spamming your askbox ;;

-> 🐚

im so in love with you hOLY SHIT youre so right im dying im sweating im throwing up im hard as a rock rn

#🐚 anon #higuruma smut #inbox

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14muffinz · 30 days ago

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2/?

C1 (and prompt) / C2 / C3 / C4

It is extremely rare in Wayne manor that someone is completely awake at breakfast. Half the time, Bruce doesn’t even show up until the rest of the house’s residents have gone off to do something else.

Duke is picking at his eggs instead of, y’know, actually eating them, and is focusing extremely hard on not focusing his vision to the point of seeing bacteria that he frankly doesn’t need to be thinking about for anything except an extremely specific kind of case.

Somehow, Damian manages to maintain his proper posture, the only indication of his exhaustion being the occasional slow blink.

They’ve both got their phones on the table, observing and not responding as Steph and Tim lose their singular shared braincell over the fact that it’s not projected to rain at all today. The level of energy involved in the conversation suggests that neither of them have actually gone to bed yet.

He doesn’t process when Cass enters the room. There are more people than usual in the manor in order to greet the new arrival, but knowing that and remembering that are two different things.

Cass pokes him in the forehead, and Duke scrambles, nearly falling out of his chair.

When he collects himself, he’s receiving a smug smile from Damian, and a mischievous smile from Cass. He weakly glares at each of them, then stabs his eggs.

Dick slides into the room on his socks, tries to turn it into a smooth wall lean that really only makes him look cringe, then asks, “Does anyone know if the new kid is up?”

“His bedroom light wasn’t on,” Damian notes, “Though he may be elsewhere in the manor.”

“Cass, did you give him the tour yesterday?” Dick checks.

Cass shakes her head. “He was tired. He wouldn’t remember if I showed him around.”

“Fair enough. I can’t tell where I am in here half the time,” Duke admits.

“You have been here a year, Thomas,” Damian remarks.

Duke crosses his arms. “Time is a lie and we all know it.”

Cass lightly taps the table to draw attention back to her. She declares, “I can go bring him here. Show him that he’s welcome.”

“Good idea,” Dick chirps.

⠀

Half the time that Jason checks his phone, he wishes that he didn’t. The other half of the time, he’s lucky enough to get a text from anyone other than his adopted siblings.

He feels nothing but disappointment and anger when he checks his phone this morning. He’s resigned to the fact that his family gets into a lot of shit, and unfortunately he’s part of that shit sometimes, but it seems like Bruce has caved and brought in another kid, and this one isn’t even connected to vigilante shit.

Jason can’t even do shit about it. Since he’s legally dead, and had an extremely public grieving period, he can’t exactly show up to the manor without raising questions that will just have to be revised over and over until the kid finally figures out that he’s living with the Bats. It’s more of an annoyance than it is a source of entertainment.

He’s gotta check in on the new kid, though, no question about it. He doesn’t trust Bruce’s parenting skills as far as he can throw the guy, and even if Jason’s a vigilante, he can’t throw people very far.

Looking at the wall of texts on his phone, he observes that getting an ally on the inside is going to be harder than usual. He and Tim are usually on the same page when it comes to Bruce’s parenting, but from the way that he and Steph are texting, he’s indisposed due to exhaustion. Dick’s a decent option, since he’s also got reason to doubt Bruce, but he’d also try to examine Jason’s thoughts from every angle and Jason doesn't need that kind of introspection for what feels like an open and shut issue. Damian’s not an option because he’d defend Bruce, and is likely trying to pretend to hate the new kid for as long as possible.

Good news is, this family is so fucking big that he’s only exhausted about half his options.

Jason calls Cass, and she answers even though she’s in the middle of applying eye liner.

“So, the new kid,” he immediately prompts. “What can you tell me about him?”

“Secretive,” she fingerspells with her free hand. “Closed. Disconnected.”

Great, so yet another extremely traumatised kid for the collection, good to know. “How’d B find him?”

Cass sets down her eye-liner and purses her lips in thought. After a few seconds of waiting, she explains, “He worried CPP. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t sign. Writes, but not to talk. Knows English, won’t use it. Won’t give name. Worried me.”

“Then he’s a case,” Jason deadpans.

She signs a sharp “no,” frowning. “Bruce wants to protect him.”

“He does that by making kids into cases,” Jason argues.

Cass glares at him through the phone screen. “We did that to ourselves.”

“Just–” Jason pinches the ever-present knot of tension between his brows, and fights to remain in control of his emotions. “Keep an eye on the kid for me, yeah?”

“Of course.”

⠀

Dick knocks on his new sibling’s door, and does not receive any indication that he’d been heard. Cass will usually knock on the wall or furniture to show that she’s aware someone’s knocking, but either their new sibling – John????? – hasn’t gotten that idea before, or he’s not up.

Right as he’s raising his fist to knock a second time, the door swings open. John – the guy doesn’t look like a John, why is the name they gave him so awkward – is wearing what looks to be the same outfit that he arrived in the day before, based on the picture Cass had snuck, though it’s not at all ruffled by sleep. There’s something dead-looking in his blue eyes that he wants to put up to exhaustion, but an instinct he’s never had a name for insists that it’s different from what he sees in his vigilante friends and family.

He hadn’t gotten the chance to meet John – he’s just going to have to give up, for now – yesterday. Dick had been waiting inside his own bedroom while texting Wally, and by the time he noticed the alert that John had arrived, the kid had already squirrelled away in his room.

That is to say that Dick isn’t at all prepared for how unsettling John really is. He stands completely still, meeting Dick’s eyes impassively, and does not speak a word. It’s only Dick’s hard-earned confidence that saves him from fumbling. “You want to come down to breakfast?”

No known allergies, Dick remembers without really meaning to. Will eat any food given to him, has not indicated any preferences or discomfort.

John blinks. Just blinks, once. He does not nod, shake his head, or do anything else. He blinks, and maybe Dick grew up with Bruce for a guardian, but he still has very little idea what to do with this new person’s nonverbal cues.

Dick takes a step back from the bedroom door, belatedly realising that he might be in John’s personal space, and then adds, “It’s a nice chance to get to know the people who are around the manor the most. A lot of our schedules don’t really line up.”

Aside from patrol, but Dick doubts that they’ll have anyone new joining them over the rooftops of Gotham for a while yet. If he can help it, John won’t get to that point at all.

John steps out of his doorway, reaching back to grab the door but not closing it. He quickly cases the hallway with a precision that turns Dick’s stomach, and then goes back to making unflinching eye contact.

He’s leaving his room, hasn’t ended the conversation, hasn’t frowned or shook his head. Dick’s not really one for physics, but he’s pretty sure that this is a net positive, and he’s clear to lead John to the dining room.

Dick gives a nod down the hall and a soft smile, and starts a mental chant of talk to Cass, talk to Cass, talk to Cass ASAP.

⠀

DW: Father’s collected yet another stray.

JK: new batkid just dropped?

DW: John.

JK: yeah yeah

JK: wait wtf did you, damian wayne, heir to the bat and the demon’s head and the superior robin, just spell my name wrong?

DW: No, John is the “name” of Father’s newest charge. He has not shared his true name, so his papers refer to him as John Doe.

DW: Also, neither of our fathers would appreciate how many secrets were just disclosed over a public channel, Jonathan.

JK: sorry

JK: so how’d your dad get another one?

DW: I’m uncertain. Likely, it was just to satiate his curiosity about John’s unique case.

JK: idk man, that doesn’t sound like b-man to me. he respects kids too much to use anyone to “satiate his curiosity”

DW: I will take that under consideration.

DW: Whatever the case, there is certainly an investigation to be had. Doe appears to be refusing to communicate for reasons unknown, despite having previously displayed an understanding of English.

JK: i think its UR curiosity that really needs to be satiated lol

JK: but there’s def cause for concern. if u need a lowkey lie detector to help out, just say the word

⠀

“I’m assembling a file, yeah,” Barbara admits without any fuss. “It’ll be helpful down the line to have everything we know in one place.”

She’s sitting at her at-home setup, nursing a cup of coffee and with a comm line open to Tim.

Tim hums in thought, and lets it drag way longer than is comfortable. Barbara knows that he and Steph have just returned from a steakout which didn’t turn out, and is slightly impressed that he hasn’t collapsed from exhaustion. There was probably caffeine involved. “Can I look at it?”

“Not ‘till you’ve met him,” Barbara insists.

“You haven’t even met him,” Tim argues.

“I’m just putting in what Bruce tells me to,” she tells him, shrugging. “It’s only been one night, anyways. There’s not much to see that wasn’t established before he showed up.”

She hears Tim. “If this has anything to do with a gang in the city—”

“Then we’ll be on top of it.”

“If this has anything to do with a player in the city,” Tim repeats insistently, “and not just the result of some fucked up form of abuse from a previous guardian, we really need to know about it. It’s been a while since I put in any research on the topic, but mutism usually stems from either some sort of brain or vocal cord injury, or is a trauma response, but from how I’ve heard him described, I’m getting a different impression of… refusing. Like in situations where an individual is being tortured, and has been taught not to give their captures anything to go off of, but in a much safer circumstance.”

Barbara purses her lips.

Tim’s not exactly wrong.

“There’s a lot left to rule out,” she replies carefully. “Knowing the Gotham system, there are probably medical examinations that were skipped for him. But I did notice something similar in the reports, yeah.”

⠀

Cass finds that yet again she does not have the words.

She’s been asked to describe the emotions she noticed in John Doe, but the problem is this: she didn’t notice anything. Nothing that she could call relaxation, surprise, tension, anything she’d expect in his current situation. She’s never met someone capable of completely masking their body language, but there’d been something undeniably wrong in the way that John Doe moved beside her.

There’s no doubt that several members of their family have warned Bruce not to turn this into a case. Yet, Cass still feels the need to watch her newest brother closely.

#ficlet #updates #dc x dp #empty eyes and apathy

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team7-headquarter · 1 year ago

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Naruto and Sakura are so babies to me BECAUSE they are fucked up off-putting little menaces.

They're the same and it's so funny how they can't recognize it. There's literally no reason for it, there is no connection between them except that they are both protagonists so the story went "Listen, I'm gonna make a pair that is sooooo ridiculously enjoyable to watch because they are sooo weird."

They listen to voices in their head?? Canonically? Both of them were bullied as kids for not being like the rest?? Naruto has freaking whiskers and Sakura pink hair!!! They are so bright and colored it's like a joke to know they want to be ninjas!!!!!!!! They are impossibly loud and bitchy, always up to beat anyone including kids and old people, don't hold back when it's time for mean comments or rejecting people they find ugly or weird, share a total of zero braincells between them sometimes, refuse to see themselves as being less than other people—

I genuinely laugh so hard with them. Remember that time after Kaguya got sealed when Naruto and Sakura panicked over how they'd go back to the real world? They had just saved the world and somehow still had time for their silly antics.

Their summons are (let me check ...) MULTIPLE frogs and a giant snail that can divide into many little versions of herself. They got those summons from their mentors, who happened to be an old man perverted to no one famously known for his erotica writing and a woman known by all for her alcoholic tendencies and being a giant loser that refuses to stop gambling.

You need more convincing? Okay.

Naruto and Sakura are a little perverted as teens and spend 70% of the manga crying. They are so lame in some of their speeches, epic losers from the very beginning because they were the dead last shinobi and kunoichi of their class. When they face a problem, their solution is "I'll beat it up with my own hands". Them in Naruto classic? For sure the stupidest duo around.

Half (or more) of their plans are the worst plans ever and the rest miraculously work so well you have to admit they were cool. They are obsessive and short tempered and even when they are the strongest shinobi and kunoichi duo around, you can't trust they will complete the mission without making it worse first.

... I correct it, they will make it worse first.

On the other hand, you have to win their respect, because they sure as hell won't give it to you out of the goodness of their hearts. They are the best representation of the Will of Fire of the younger generation. No one ever thought Naruto would befriend Kurama like he did, no one ever counted on Sakura becoming a world renowned medic nin, no one thought they would reach that far. They're naive to a fault and they don't fit the shinobi life at all and if they weren't the protagonists, they'd be the first to die or something, but they are the mcs and they are absurd as they come.

I love them sooooo much for all they are and all they are not.

#naruto #sakura haruno #naruto uzumaki #team 7 #team kakashi #og team 7 #naruto classic #naruto shippuden

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bucketbender · 3 months ago

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Analysis of Tervo throughout the seasons

I think the reason why I love SO so much is because the romance is not the reason you watch the show, at least at the beginning. For 3 seasons straight, the two characters who have so much chemistry aren’t in love. Or technically, they’re not together. Which makes sense, because they’re not supposed to be in love. They are shlorpians with teammate affinity.

(Note that I think the whole Valentine’s Day plot was a bit of a stretch, with teammate affinity being something that’s literally never been mentioned once. But you know what ? I can look past this. There are worst stretches in cartoons. Like the Simpsons.)

What makes their relationship so interesting is that, not only do they absolutely work even though they’re complete opposites (I know, that’s the point of the show), but they have been sharing that braincell ever since the first episode. Terry shows something Earth-related to Korvo, Korvo actually takes an interest because it fascinates him, they have fun and bond, it goes to shit, Korvo goes back to working, and repeat. They don’t have the best dynamic, yet their bond is strong enough to make it work. And it works because even in the first Season, they like spending time with each other.

S1 :

In season 1, Korvo spends most of his time on the ship. Half of the time, Terry is here to keep him company. He doesn’t do anything, he just sits there with a magazine or a Tiki drink and blabbers about human culture. And his inattentive and forgetful nature sometimes gets Korvo hurt when he fixes something. But still, he remains. Even though Korvo could and probably should banish him from the ship for their own safety. But the thing is, he actually likes having him around. Despite all his faults, Terry is sweet, and cares enough about him to stay in this boring ship to talk to him. That’s more than probably anyone has ever done for him, from what we’ve seen of their past.

As for Terry, he sees this guy who works literally all the time, and even if he usually shuts out anything fun, when Korvo does indulge him, they get into some crazy sci-fi action. He also knows his friend works hard, and does all of the chores, and cares for the whole family, even if he never expresses it directly. If you headcanon that he’s sapiosexual (« It is sexy when you know about the ship »), that also explains why Terry had some interest in him as well.

Even in the first season, even when they hadn’t shared a single kiss, they liked each other. (big up to the dumb ray episode that made people go nuts when it came out. We’ve come so far)

They’re not in love, but you can already see that Korvo will be the one to fall for his opposite first. Terry annoys him so much - and by grey gods, he endured more stupidity from his friend every day than my parents in a year. But he knows Terry genuinely chooses to spend time with him even though he could be boning humans literally 24/7. He chooses to stay in this boring ship with him to talk and just spend time together.

S2 :

They pretty much share the same dynamic in Season 2, except that now, they also share kisses sometimes. It’s not exactly a love kiss, at least not yet. It’s more of a way to say « I’m sorry » and « thank you ». It’s not often and it’s treated as a treat. Other than that, everything is the same. Terry keeps going around to have intercourse with humans and comes back in the ship to eat and hang out with Korvo. And… I have a theory. A SO theory. Remember this ?

It’s barely a 1 sec image of Korvo squinting while watching Terry vibe with a random human. It’s from the red goobler wedding episode.

And I think half of the reason Korvo… did what he did in that episode, was because he was frustrated with his relationship with Terry. Or rather, the lack of relationship he was wishing for. And so, there was this other being, that had a deep connection to him, and who he vibed with and who wanted him… and they boned. And Korvo told him they should get married. And their relationship worked for a solid 2 minutes.

I wholeheartedly believe this whole thing was much more about Terry than it was about anyone else. And if this has already been explored in like, 50 fics, I am sorry, and proud that I realized this by myself.

S3 :

Anyway, let’s keep going with Season 3. This one marks a huge change in their dynamic because it’s the year Korvo finally decides to put down roots on Earth. No more fixing the ship all the time, just occasionally. Thus, he spends the rest of the day with Terry or his family.

… Which makes him realize just how much time Terry spends with other humans, with whom he shares more than just hobbies. And it really frustrates him. Along with the Gladwell episode, he openly voices his jealousy this season. Maybe he even realizes that the "smooch on the lips" wasn’t just their thing, but that Terry did it with random strangers in the street ? In any case, he hates it.

(Small detail that even though Korvo craves something more with Terry, he’s the one who shows it the least. He tries to keep this "authoritative and strong and awesome" persona even when he just wants to rip Terry’s shirt off. My proof : « And then after that, we make out ? / Maybe. / That means no. / No ! It means… maybe. »)

This season also doesn’t show Terry having sex with anyone. In fact, it shows him being abandoned by his lovers who turned out to be psychos. Instead, he gets to share more of what he likes with Korvo and spends more time with him (the line, the skull bullet, tacos bell). And he’s obviously very happy with this new dynamic. Not only does Korvo listen to all of his stupid ideas, but now he actively participates in them. Gradually, he spends more time with his teammate and therefore, less with humans.

S4 :

Season 4 is the second best after Season 5, and not just because Dan Stevens joined the party. In season 4, Tervo don’t just smooch. They completely kiss and moan like sexy savages. They have sex twice on camera, even though we only see it once. Everything changes, but they still have the same chemistry they had in Season 1. Do stupid things, get upset, make peace, repeat. Then make out. That’s the difference. Korvo saves Terry in the stock-a-verse with « the power of love » and stabbing, and Terry tells a stranger he can’t have sex with her because he’s in love with his partner. *squint at the Valentine’s Day episode*

But then, after they "finally realize that they have love", they immediately get married. As if what Shlorp told them about their species was the only thing holding them back.

And then… oh boy. That’s some loving, horny rollercoaster we get on for Season 5. I had as many « awwww » moments watching it as I did watching WOY, but not for the same reasons.

S5 :

This time, their dynamic actually shifts. Korvo is more than ever the one doing the silly, stupid shit. And when he’s not spending his time beefing with a human, he’s with his family and/or lover. Tervo don’t argue about stupid shit anymore. They let it slide. And they truly, deeply love each other.

Korvo clearly shows it more, as he’s been dying to express his feelings (the skirt, the endless honey moon, the desperation to keep the what if device away). But he didn’t know if it was normal or even allowed to do before the Valentines Day episode. Now that he knows they can be in love and are, he doesn’t count the seconds, the pennies, the attention : it all goes to Terry.

I’m telling you, that pupa specialist is spoiled as hell every day. But he doesn’t love Korvo for his ways of always going the extra mile. He loves him for the same reasons he liked him at first : he cares for the family, he’s smart as hell, he’s dedicated. Yet he’s still so emotionally stupid. But it’s fine, he can be the emotional intelligence for the both of them.

I honestly wonder if we’ve reached the peak of their relationship or if there will be much more. Maybe in Season 6, we’ll see Terry sacrifice some things for Korvo. Maybe Zarck will kidnap one of the duo and they’ll spend three episodes getting him back. Maybe we’ll finally have the episode that explores Korvo and Terry’s past to understand their daddy issues. Or maybe we’ll have more Gravity Falls style shenanigans with the replicants. I don’t know which idea I’d like more, honestly.

Anyway ! Thanks for reading. That was some long analysis. I’m going to eat breakfast now. Toodles !

#solar opposites #Tervo #relationship #character analysis #this has been a long time coming #and they spent a long time comin’#get it ? okay fine - I’ll go eat #oh and if I made a mistake please do tell

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naok-iyuu · 2 months ago

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It's beginning to look a lot like... - Zed Necrodopolis x F!Reader

Summary : First Christmas you spend with your boyfriend Zed in your new appartment, not everything goes firstly as planned.

Word count : 2.7k No warning just one or two swear words.

My Masterlist for more !

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A disaster.

It was beginning to look a lot like a horribly and painfully endless disaster.

The kitchen looked like a mess as Zed tried to wrap THE Christmas present he has been searching for months around any Seabrook store. A thick layer of flour covered the counter, showing what was left of his food war with a cookie recipe which made him create things that looked way to flat compared to the cookies you usually baked.

He cursed under his breath when the originally green bow on the top of the grotesquely wrapped gif turned a slight, ugly shade of whity green. Why didn't he cleaned the shitty counter before putting the gif on it ? Maybe because he was in a rush and tried to do everything at once, leaving all his braincells behind. You were nearly 20minutes away from your lovely home and Zed could feel his heart on the verge of giving out under all of the bad luck he had received from the universe.

His hand brushed clean the wrapped box, his feet taking him to the sofa so the flour wouldn't have another great idea and this time turn his clothes white. Once done, he placed it under the Christmas tree, his eyes darting all four corners of the box scared it would run away with little paper legs who had suddently grown.

Zed had tried to cook a meal for you, a meal that didn't last long in the pan. He would have loved for you to taste it and give your advice on his performance, yeah, he would have loved it if it didn't end up half burnt. The jock wasn't as gifted as you in the kitchen, but he cooked a lot for you and Zoe ! So why was the world trying to get in his way now ?

Sooner this afternoon, he opted for food delivery when the kitchen was already crying for its own life, your favorite from your favorite place of course. He could at least do that.

He quickly moved away from his staring contest with the tree and everything on it, going to clean clumsily the flour still waiting on the counter. His stress wasn't going to bring down his spirit as he scrubbed every millimeter shiny clean. Another glance towards the oven to prevent his flat babies from burning and a sigh escaped him, at least those were safe.

"Why are they so flat..." His silent voice grunted again in exasperation. Did you had some super power to make cookies all big and chewy ? His attention got stealed by the doorbell ringing, throwing quickly the now white sponge in the sink he rushed to open the door.

Thanking the delivery guy, he brought the bag inside whining again when he unpacked the food to discover it upside down and not as correctly set up in the box as he would have like to.

"I am so not getting away with this..." Zed knew you wouldn't be mad at him nor criticize his hard work. What he wasn't so sure about was how long you would remember this day and how many times a day you were going to tease him about it.

Time had passed and he had to hurry, dress the table for you both with cute little candles molded from different shapes representing the holiday with little snowman or deer looking candle, throw colorful snow flakes confettis all over the plates and drinking glasses to add more magic, and more mess for him to clean afterwards. Finally, he unboxed the messy looking food and placed it on the plates as elegantly as he could. Maybe he could make it look like some fancy, creatively shaped master chef dish.

Luckily, the oven beeped to inform him it was ending its heating duty. He left behind the full and not looking so bad plates, ditching out the delivery bag in the trash and protecting his hands with oven mitt to place the warm cookies on the other side of the counter.

"Okay, I know I am supposed to let you guys cool off... But bear with me." Quickly yet carefully, he placed pieces of chocolates on top of the pastries and added icing sugar to give more of a christmas look to the burning delicacy.

The cookies still looked good in the baking sheet, he could maybe allow them to stay there and not stack them on a different plate to make it look fancier.

Thats when he heard the well known sound of the keys in the door lock that Zed's head snapped in the direction of the entrance, feeling his excitement flowing in his core. A last glance toward his reflection in the almost closed oven to run a hand through his greenish hair, and his feet took him to the door you just opened, slightly shaking from the winter cold. He could see a few stack of snow flakes fighting for their lives on your hair after experiencing the warmth of a loving home.

"Hi you, looking cold." He teased you as you took your coat off.

"Hi." You responded with the widest smile, eyes twinkling at the sight of your way too good looking boyfriend.

His hands were quick to take your long coat off your hands, hanging it in its right spot while you took your shoes off.

"Smells suspiciously good in here, what did you make ?" When you straightened up to finally and properly step foot in your house, Zed's long arms wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you close to him in a warm hug.

"You'll see." His overjoyed grin stole a chuckle from your mouth he swiftly covered with his own lips. Your smile grew wider against his skin as your hands made their way his pale face, brushing his cheeks lovingly.

"Your hands are cold !" He whined with a slight startle, allowing your hands to search for his warmth.

"And you're hot." Your eyes rolled when you saw the twinkle of tease in his eyes, knowing full well the impact and the direction your words were going to take.

"Well thank you love."

"My pleasure." You spotted a white stain in his hair and removed it with a gentle brush of your fingers. "You used flour ?"

His eyes widened with surprise, so the stupid flour really attacked him. "I... Tried to do something." He let go of your body, letting your feet guide you to the kitchen.

"Hence the sweet smell !" You chuckled at him before your eyes caught the well dressed meal on the counter.

It was not unusual when Zed did this kind of thing for you, hell he was always doing something even when he couldn't. What made your mouth open and close a few times was the fact that you haven't seen that one coming. There always were signs of him getting all excited about something small, or smiles that were bigger than usual betraying a surprise he had thought about on the spot. And yet, not this time.

"You even made cookies." Your lips pressed themself in a moved put, also noticing your favorite food in both your plates surrounded by adorably shaped candles.

"It's Christmas after all." Both his hands took yours, adverting your attention on him. "Here's our little schedule. Candle Christmas diner for both of us because we're the cutest couple." His words provoked yet another chuckle in your core. "After, we'll make hot chocolate together to drink with the cookies and, of course, we'll watch your favorite movie."

"Again ?" You teased him, remembering how many times you made your boyfriend watch the same show over and over again.

"Again." He nodded with big knowing eyes.

"Can I go change first ?" You were so excited that you almost forgot your habit of jumping into your pyjamas after a quick hot shower.

Yet, you knew Zed wouldn't forget about that. "Of course, your pyjamas's already in the bathroom." You squeezed his hands, thanking him about this gesture before getting on your tiptoe to give his lips a peck.

Walking toward the bathroom your eyes noticed the, not normally there, present under the decorated tree. Your eyebrows raised in surprise as your voice made its way towards Zed who was checking his flat cookies.

"You bought me something ?" It was Christmas after all, yet you couldn't help but be surprised every time.

His head perked up to see you near the bathroom corridor, your eyes looking at the wrapped gift he got you and then at him.

"Were you expecting me not to ? Wrong expectation." He knowingly nodded at you. "And if you stay there too long, imma just join you while you take a shower."

You childishly rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind you as you took his words as a challenge. Your eyes landed on the mirror where a paper was scotched to it, 'I'll never eat your brain, because I want your heart :P'.

Zed heard your laught, making him chuckle under his breath.

You finished your hot heaven promptly, now tasting your food with content 'hm' 's and big bites. Zed even teased you on how big your fully filled cheeks looked, at which you responded by throwing a bunch of confettis that stuck to your hand at him.

You helped him gather the dishes in the sink, even though he grumbled at you not to. You took your favorite mugs from the cabinet while your lover placed all the cookies on a clean plate.

When both hot chocolates were set down on the coffee table along with the sweet pastries and you both sitting down on the sofa, your boyfriend gestured to the Christmas tree behind you.

"If you may."

You rolled amusingly your eyes at his attitude, leaning over the back of the sofa to grab your present patiently waiting on the wooden floor. Sitting back with now the green wrapped box on your lap, you imitated Zed, gesturing behind you.

"If you may." Your satisfied smile made his brows knit.

Following your request, he noticed a golden box with his name on it. "When did you even put it here-" Your eyes looked at the ceiling with tightly pursed, innocent lips. He shook his head, amused, placing the present on his own lap.

"You first, since you did all this for us." You invited him.

"You know I do this because I love you." His words warmed your heart, a sweet and touched smile at the corners your lips.

Tearing the paper apart, Zed eyes discovered a personalised photo book with within his pages, countless pictures of you, him, your respective families, and even couple pictures. Underneath the album, his fingers brushed a soft fabric. He then saw a t-shirt he once noticed in a shop he couldn't afford.

"O-Oh my god... That's too much." His incredulous eyes met your nervous yet proud ones.

"It's never too much. And there's some blank pages at the end of the album, in case you want to add some pictures." His fingers went through some of the pages before putting the album away to hug you.

"It's so beautiful thank you."

"You're welcome." He leaned back to watch your face, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss the next second which made your throat gasp.

Your hands cupped his face, enjoying the passionate and loving kiss he was offering you.

"Now you." He smiled, kissing your cheek as he gave you the space necessary for you to open the present without anything getting in your way.

As you teared open the green paper around the mysterious gift, you discovered a box you opened with ease. Your hand caught a soft a fluffy plush of your favorite animal, one big enough for you to cuddle with, followed by the hardcover of a book, collector edition, you wanted.

"How do you always find a plush that I don't have ?" You laughed as you brought the animal on your lap behind the box balancing on your knees.

You had a lot of stuffed plush of this specific animal everywhere in the room your shared with Zed, you had them way before you two moved in together. A collection the boy kept enlarging over the years you had been a couple, and even as friends, you could remember him always offering you something on your birthdays. It made you blush thinking about it.

His eyes sparkled at your reaction, falling once more. "I keep wondering the same thing." He laughed with you.

"Thank you, really. It means so much to me. And the book is freaking gorgeous !" You captured his cheeks in your hands once more, kissing his lips with a fierce passion.

When you pulled slightly away, his voice pronounced "Carefull, you missed something."

As your body leaned back with your eyebrows frowning, a last glance inside the box revealed an envelope at the bottom. When you took it, Zed removed the now empty box from your lap, ditching it on the foor at the other side of the sofa. His hand also took the book he set down on the coffee table. You thanked him, noticing the anticipation in his eyes.

You easily opened the envelope, mentally appreciating Zed and his foresightedness. You always struggled with sealed envelope. Taking out the colored paper and unfolding it, you could notice the work he put on it. It was decorated with both of your favorite colors, and the police was the one you always used on a program like LibreOffice. How does he even have all of those ideas ?

"You don't mind reading it to me ?"

You looked up, slightly surprised. "No, not at all. Hmm let me..." you cleared your throat starting your quick ready of the letter.

"Dear Y/n L/n and Zed Necrodopolis, in parentheses that's me" you chuckled again at his silliness. "I hereby declare to you, and after careful consideration amongst both parties, that a third family mem-" You cutted your own sentence with the loudest gasp coming from your lungs, your body suddenly straightening.

Your eyes quickly reading the last words in your mind, your body felt the urge to stand up with your mouth and eyes open wide.

"You're fucking me." Excitement built its way in your veins even when you tried to remain calm and steadied your voice.

"If we're talking literally-"

"Are we really ? For real ?"

Zed couldn't keep teasing you with the face you made. You both had been talking about it for months, it almost left your mouth everyday as you looked up videos on your phone. And now that you were together for quite a long time, managed your money well and had the budget. He had decided to surprise you.

"Of course we are, for real."

His words made your wide looking face even wider, he couldn't believe it was possible as another loud gasp and a squeal escaped your mouth. You jumped on your boyfriend who's large frame caught you with ease and you tightly hugged him.

"We're getting a pet ! We are !"

He laughed at your outburst, something that always filled his heart. "Our own pet. We'll go to the shelter when you feel ready and-"

"Oh we're going tomorrow." You stepped back from the embrace, looking at him with serious eyes.

"Tomorrow ?"

"I have the budget. I saved and kept it."

His throat trembled with a laught. "Of course you have." Of course you had.

You jerked forward again to hug him with strength, strength that couldn't hurt your favorite sport addict zombie of course.

You cuddled silently for a few seconds, your voice breaking the in love silent as you looked once more into his eyes.

"Are we getting a cat or a dog ?"

"Hmm, cat first right ?" He remembered how you always said you wanted your dog to have a garden of its own, outside a big house. A dog could survive in an apartment, depending on the bread. But somehow, you always pictured this specific loving pet in a huge garden.

"Of course a cat."

"Tell me we're not going to bicker for its name."

You bit your lips teasingly, your looking orbs twinkling with mischief. Of course you were going to do just that as an idea reached your mind. "I think we'll call it Flour or Cookie."

His head jerked back against the sofa at your tease with a groan.

Reassuringly, the night didn't end like a disaster.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- Thank you for reading! Tell me what you thought about it! And remember people, pets aren't toys, you have to really think about it and have the budget before adopting one. And rescuing one from the shelter would help a lot and make a little soul really happy! <3

#disney zombies #milo manheim #zed necrodopolis #zed necrodopolis x reader #fanfiction #zombies #disney movies #z o m b i e s #zombies fanfic #x reader #x female reader #disney #movies #fanfic #christmas #christmas fanfic #christmas special

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