#he was worried his government would do something to her
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👁🗨Ciphertology & The Dixons👁🗨
Sooooo…Emma May’s family was involved in a cult, right? Let me elaborate. As a fellow creative I have been known on many occasions to forget details big and small about my own world, but names? No, names are never something I tend to duplicate unless for a very specific thematic or world building reason. So color me stoked when I was curiously learning about Bill’s cult arc in the 1950’s and found one of his first followers was a young girl with the surname, you guessed it, Dixon!!
Considering Alex Hirsch is very purposeful with things and little hints, while also leaving the audience to figure things out for themselves while he sits back and laughs, I can’t help but feel the surname Dixon is a bit TOO coincidental in this instance. From what we see, Ciphertology and the followers were a mash of a bunch of real life cult references while doing the usual Hirsch thing of filtering Bill into a concept perfectly well.
All in all it’s a very interesting thing, but what I found more interesting were the people involved. Sure you have the puppet leader, Silas Birchtree and a bunch of other out there names, but amongst sits a simple ‘Madeline Dixon’….. Alex Hirsch I’m going to screAM :D
From what we learn, after the cult is forcibly disbanded by the US government and every trace of the town is wiped off of maps and history books, the people are spread throughout the country and given opportunities to start life over again. Not everyone followed that however and some continued to follow the Bill Cipher cult. And honestly I can’t help finding myself bouncing back to the very concept that is-
What if Emma May Dixon grew up in a recovering cult family? What if her family still believed in the cults teachings like some and practiced it in secret at home? And if that is true how am I meant to feel towards the idea that her future husband, Fiddleford McGucket, would become a cult leader himself all because of the very thing that was the foundation of her own cultish upbringing?
Honestly if that’s what Alex was shooting for, I’m calling him a genius cause that’s such a fascinating idea to work with. The concept that Bill has personally affected and rooted himself so deeply into the show and it’s characters that even those we don’t get to see still have dealt with him to some degree.
It just all feels too perfect too. The surname Dixon implies enough, thanks to Alex’s upfront and to the point naming, that Emma May too is a southerner like her husband. Or at the very least she’s in that farmy side of the country. And where did Ciphertology come from? Orchard Lake, Kansas. Madeline Dixon very well could be Emma May’s aunt or older sister considering the cult began in 1952. And assuming Em’s the same age as Fiddleford and the Stan twins then we can assume vaaaaageuly that she’d be born in 1955. Meaning she’d be either growing up in that recovering environment or indoctrinated into it.
We can assume well enough then that she didn’t follow the cults teachings considering she seems well adjusted with her family, living in Palo Alto, but it also kinda reaffirms why she’d be so quick to throw divorce on the table once she sees Fiddleford’s memory wiped condition. That on top of we can only assume his behavior was alarming and erratic and a far cry from the personality of her husband that she was used to (especially when you consider bRO made a homicidal pterodactyl robot because he was so distraught and upset towards the idea of being divorced..like yeah man..that might solidify her decision my guy..)
But if she ever saw the symbol of Bill’s eye or anything in relation to him anywhere in Gravity Falls?? Especially the Society of the Blind eye symbol spray painted all over? After either learning to fear Bill or worship him in her upbringing depending on what their family did after the cult was disbanded? I wouldn’t blame her for high tailing it out of there and worrying for her and her sons life- (Fiddleford..Emma May..I am your biggest fans, but y’all have me bonkers sometimes) But also consider how most ex cult members naturally want to give the very opposite traumatic life that they lived to their child? If Emma May were to see semblances of what she relates to Ciphertology in Gravity Falls, I don’t have a hard time believing she was getting tF out of there for the sake of Tate’s well being & future
In short- hi, I now believe Emma May’s family was in a cult and the very idea of that will ruminate with me for awhile :D But also double hi?? Madeline DIxon looks vaguely similar to how I envisioned and draw my Emma May design? Coincidence, I think nOT :P
#gravity falls#the book of bill#book of bill#gravity falls fandom#emma may dixon#fiddleford mcgucket#ford pines#standford pines#mystery trio#gravity falls theory#gravity falls thoughts#ciphertology#bill cipher
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Not me thinking about how I use the hc that nations can actually have children and it's actually the more common way for personifications to come around (the order goes
Two nation parents
1 nation parent/1 human parent
just appears randomly like in canon
2 human parents (10/10 rare, barely happens)
) but anyway, the whole 'poof kids are the most common!' come from governments being overly suspicious of personifications having kids together. It became common for governments to confiscate literal new born personifications from their parents; so suddenly it became far more common for kids to just appear at around 2-5 years old.
its actually a rlly sad hc the more I think about it.
#in the past it was like#austria and Hungary hiding baby Liechtenstein and Germany#Belgium not wanting to go out in public with Lux until he was almost 7#Russia's government didn't know Alaska had a personification until 1830-smth#nowadays as far as any government knows#micro nations don't get personifications :\#a trend started by Denmark actually cause he didn't want anyone knowing about Christiania#he was worried his government would do something to her#hetalia#hetalia hc#aph austria#hws austria#aph liechtenstien#hws liechtenstein#aph germany#hws germany#aph denmark#hws denmark
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LITTLE BAMBI EYES ♡
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: how leon loves you so. his beautiful bride. he loves your sweet face and pretty eyes. he just can't understand why he loves to see both overcome with tears.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, blowjob, dacryphilia, daddy kink, age gap (20s, late 30s)
a/n: thank you to whoever requested this. i've been kinda missing daddy leon </3
kinktober slot: day 19 - dacryphilia
Sometimes you make Leon feel like a horrible person.
It's not anything you do or say. Nothing intentional on your part at all. Honestly, it's kind of just his default setting around you simply for the fact that you're wearing a ring on your finger that ties you to him for the rest of your life while also being over ten years younger than him.
You've told him over and over that it's not a big deal. This is the modern world, baby. He just has to get with the times. No one cares about the two of you, and even if they do, who gives a shit? You're a responsible adult, and the two of you love each other. That's all there is to it.
And while he tends to agree with your speeches in the moment, they don't completely erase the guilt from his subconscious. Though his feelings of unease would probably remain at that deeper level if not for days like today.
Today, Leon had arrived home from a mission. It had been a particularly long one, spanning almost a whole month. Nearly thirty days of waiting around and doing recon work, tasks that could've been done by those on a lower level of the government's hierarchy than him, before completing the objective. He was more than ready to come home to you. The longing to see your face again, to hear your voice, it was practically a physical ailment at this point.
The moment he came through the door you were there. You latched onto him and wouldn't let go. He had to drop his stuff by the entryway so he could scoop you up and carry you to the nearest chair in the living room.
He sits down with you in his lap, allowing you to smother him in kisses and fuss over how he looks so tired. But what makes him feel so awful, what causes the gnawing ache that festers in his chest in regards to your relationship is when he sees your eyes begin to grow misty.
It starts with watery eyes and then your voice cracks and you can barely get a word out before you're whimpering and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. You cry and cry about how you were so worried and you missed him so much and you never want him to leave you again.
The whole thing makes him feel guilty on a surface level. He never wants to make his pretty little wife cry. He doesn't want her going sick with worry because of him. But the other layer of this thing that truly makes him feel like something is wrong with him comes from the fact that your display of emotion gets him hard.
He tries with everything he has to stop it. He's not even sure what it really is about it that gets him going like this. In his mind, he tries to rationalize that he just finds it sweet that you miss him. It's just cute, it's not something he needs to agonize over. He doesn't really know, but also when the blood starts rushing South, he doesn't really care.
You sniffle and tighten your arms around his torso while he coos at you and rubs your back. He hushes you gently while adjusting in his seat to make sure you don't feel the swell of his bulge just yet. Sure, he's turned on by your tears, but that doesn't make him inconsiderate. He lets you get most of it out first before trying anything else.
"Shh, shh, shh. It's ok. I'm right here, baby. I made it home safe and sound like always," he murmurs against your hairline, "There's no reason to cry, I don't want you wasting any tears on me."
He swipes away those small droplets of water with his thumb before directing you to look up at him. Your expression makes him smile. Despite their sadness, your eyes gleam with so much love. Your lip wobbles with all the care that pumps through your beating heart.
"So emotional," he teases softly, "C'mon, sweetheart, gimme a kiss. Let me make it better."
Without hesitation, you lean in. He smirks against your lips, cupping your cheek and guiding you in the exchange. It's the opening he needs to make things seem natural. He can act like he's just so pent up from being away that a few kisses got him hot under the collar. Not that he popped a boner as soon as he saw tears pooling against your lash line.
It works. You scoot closer and feel the stiff length graze your thigh. It'd been a long time since you'd had him too. Feeling that familiar hardness against your soft flesh is all it takes for explicit ideas to begin blooming in your mind.
Before he knows it, you're on your knees between his legs. Your lips slide up and down his cock, gliding the shaft into your warm, wet mouth down to your throat. His head tilts back against the sagging cushion of his chair. He pets the crown of your head while you work, wordless appreciation for your efforts.
A deep sigh leaves him as your tongue traces along the veins. You get a groan out of him for flicking your tongue at the ridge. After a few more sucks, you pull off and stroke him instead.
He hears a soft sniffle. His eyes snap down to you on the floor, and he realizes that you're still crying. A moan bubbles up in his throat. He tries to stifle it, but parts of it still break free.
"Hey, hey. What- what's wrong? You ok?" he chokes out, trying to sound normal and not like he's about to lose it.
You nod while looking up at him with those glossy eyes. Your hand doesn't stop pumping him as tears roll down your cheeks.
"I just missed you so much," you whimper.
Your knuckles graze your cheek. The duality of your cute, tear-streaked face next to your skilled hand jerking him off is nearly too much to take in.
"I'm right here," he says, trying to offer comfort, "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
"Yeah, but you don't get it. I just missed you," you cry again. Another few drops fall as you blink and your lip quivers.
In a way, Leon does understand. It's not that you're currently upset, it's just lingering feelings causing your emotions to act up a bit. He doesn't have a problem with it regardless of the cause though. Not if this is the result.
You go back in to suckle the tip. Your lips wrap around him in a little, perfect 'o.' It feels like you've come straight from heaven to do this for him. He doesn't think it can get any better until you look up at him. Seeing your eyes full of tears while you pleasure him is a whole other kind of sensation.
Hissing in ecstasy, he knows for certain now that he can't last that. He gently guides your mouth off before yanking you up into his lap.
"Can't have you crying like that, honey. Let daddy make it better," he mutters while tugging your shorts down and haphazardly working them off of you.
You help him out and shimmy your panties down too before lining his cock up at your entrance and sinking down. The whole month since you'd last taken it was worth it now. You bounce up and down, letting the familiar filling sensation seep in.
Cries pour from your lips openly, and his eyes roll back. His hands rest on your hips with a loose grip. The touch is present enough to offer the illusion that he's helping.
"Feels so good," you whimper.
"Does it, baby? Just what you were missing, huh?" he rasps.
You nod quickly as your body rises and falls. He feels you squeezing around him, your walls fluttering each time he splits you open.
Once he's calmed down a bit, he starts to rock his hips upwards against yours. He drives himself a little deeper inside you, nudging all the spots you weren't hitting before. You tilt forward and put your head back against his throat like you'd had it earlier.
"That's right. Keep crying for me," he grunts as he picks up his own pace a bit, "Let daddy hear how much you missed him."
Another sob tumbles from you as if prompted by the command. He holds you close and rubs your back like this is a normal method of soothing you. Tears leak out against his throat, trickling down to his collarbone. He can feel the warm liquid and the brush of your eyelashes on his sensitive skin.
"My good girl. Daddy's got you," he sighs.
He pounds up into you with a few more thrusts. The rock of his hips slides his pelvis against your clit, working you towards the end. You whimper and cling to him, arms wrap around his shoulders with the strength of a vise.
"So pretty when you're all weepy for me," he murmurs.
His hands tighten around your waist, actually keeping you in place now for him to thrust into. He grits his teeth. The sensation in the pit of his stomach lets him know he's close to the edge too.
"Fuck... you close, angel?" he asks.
You nod, still not lifting your head from the safety of his shoulder.
The response is good enough for him though. He can feel you clamping around him. Every stroke elicits a wet squelch from between your bodies. You're gushing for him, ready to explode. Tears pour from your eyes in a seemingly endless supply.
"Let me have it. Don't hold back," he directs in a strained tone while creeping to the high himself.
He thrusts in deep and slams you down on him before spilling his load inside you. The sensation brings you to your peak and rips another cry from you. You hiccup out a moan between the sobs. Your nails dig into his shoulders while your body shudders. Even though you'd only cum once, it feels like everything is overloaded.
His hips continue to move, fucking his release into you and working you through the waves of euphoria.
"Fuck-" he hisses, "That's my girl. Fuck, you're my girl. My baby. So good for me."
His fucked out words hit your ears and get you feeling all loopy. Your head stays against his shoulder, content to rest there while he takes what he needs. A few more tears slide out against your silken skin.
Your body feels limp on top of his by the time you're both through it. He feels boneless too, sunken into his seat while catching his breath.
You're still crying a little bit. He can hear it right by his ear. To get more comfortable, he reaches down and pulls the lever that causes the chair to recline. It pushes you fully against his body and lets him hold you better. His fingers trace little circles on the small of your back while his other arm drapes across your shoulder blades.
"I missed you too, baby," he whispers with a small kiss to your head.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy x you#resident evil x reader#resident evil x you#resident evil imagines#resident evil smut
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Surprise Marriage
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you and Logan receive some...surprising news, it leads to a lot of unanswered questions.
Disclaimer: One or two swear words here and there. Mostly fluff, chaos, little angst, yearning, kissing and a happy ending. Not Proof Read.
The morning, so far, had been slow for Logan.
Which, thankfully, due to the last couple of years, wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sure, a kid or two might forget to have done their homework or the coffee filter hadn’t been changed. But other than the small, common, everyday mishaps, everything had been pretty normal.
But somehow, when Logan woke up, something felt off.
Maybe it was the quiet hallways, maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen any other professors in the break room or around the school, or maybe it was the fact that when he walked into the Professor's office, everyone looked at him with…worry.
“What is it? What’s going on?”
“Logan, I think it’s best if you sit down.”
Logan looked around everybody and they all looked worried, too. Not “someone’s dead” worried, but worried enough to make him feel uneasy.
“What’s going on?”
“Have you seen Y/n today?”
Logan shook his head. “She had a late night. She’s probably still sleeping.”
Professor X looked at Storm. “Go and get her for me, please.”
Storm nodded and made her way out of the door and towards your bedroom. Meanwhile, Logan was still confused.
“Charles, what’s going on?”
The man took a small sigh and looked at the papers on his desk before looking back up to Logan.
“Come on, clearly everyone else knows. What is it?”
The Professor went back and forth with himself for a minute before finally looking back up. “I suppose I should tell you. You’re married, Logan.”
Logan laughed. “Excuse me?”
“I received these papers this morning from a law firm in Oklahoma. It seems it took them a while to find an address for you both.”
“Both? What?”
“Here, take a look for yourself.” The Professor pushed the papers to the edge of his desk where Logan took them with caution and a lot of confusion.
“What the hell? When were these even..drawn up? Better yet, who’s my wife?”
“Well, that would be the other question except-”
Just as the Professor was about to finish his sentence, the door to his office opened and Storm walked in with you not far behind. Everyone looked at you…worriedly. Like they knew something you didn’t.
Logan looked annoyed as he flipped through a couple sheets of paper but when he saw you, he held the same expression but only for a minute then it turned into…into something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
Then you remembered.
It had been laundry day.
And you wore one of his shirts to bed.
Standing in his t-shirt and some plaid pyjama shorts that you found in the back of your wardrobe, your hair down and slightly messy from having only just woken up, you looked around everyone.
“What’s going on?”
“Well, Y/n-”
“Take a look at this.” Logan handed you the pile of paper he had been reading, and with a slightly tired and confused look, you read through it.
What was it meant to be? A news article? A government contract? A kid’s essay who’s handwriting they couldn’t read…again?
But no.
It was anything but.
Well, maybe a government contract…of sorts.
“This is a marriage licence.” You spoke aloud. “Logan, why am I looking at a marriage licence at eight in the morning? Oh my god, are Jean and Scott finally getting hitched. About time.”
“No,” Logan said. “It’s ours.”
“What?”
“It’s ours. We’re married.”
You stopped reading. Even if you had pretended to do so, all the words on the page suddenly became blocks of ink that you couldn’t make out.
“What?”
Then the Professor started to explain. “We were hoping one of you could explain this to us, though if neither of you wish to, that’s completely fine. What happens between a husband and wife is none of our-”
“When did this even happen?” You asked Logan.
“I don’t know.”
“A law firm in Oklahoma sent it over. Apparently it’s taken them a while to find your address.”
You thought for a moment. Yourself and Logan hadn’t been in Oklahoma for nearly ten months. And you certainly didn’t get married. At least, not from memory.
“I need to sit down.”
Logan pushed out the chair beside him with his foot and you fell into the softer leather. You had just woken up and all of a sudden you felt like you wanted to sleep for at least a month.
“We’re married? Are you sure it’s ours? Maybe they got the addresses mixed up and…I don’t know. Got it wrong?”
Logan leaned back and pressed his hand to the side of his face. “Flipped to the back page.”
And so you did.
There was your name. And Logan’s. Signed and dated.
You were married to Logan.
Logan had become your husband as of ten months ago.
You had become Logan’s wife.
“I think I’m gonna puke.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Scott said. Jean hit him on the arm. “What?”
“Hard to not be a little offended at that.” Logan said, half under his breath, half to you.
“Do either of you know when this happened?”
You shook your head, still trying to read the pieces of paper in front of you. When could this have-
“The library.”
“What?”
Logan sat up. “We signed for a package. What kind of delivery company has us sign a marriage contract instead?”
“I don’t know but it had to be there. That’s the only time we ever…wrote our names, signed a piece of paper. It could have been this.”
“We would have noticed if it said “MARRIAGE LICENCE” at the top of the page.”
Then the bell rang.
“We…should pick this up later. For now, let's just try and go about today as normal.”
You could only nod in agreement. And as everyone left, the Professor turned to both you and Logan who were sitting facing each other in your chairs.
“I’ll give you both some time.”
Logan nodded a small thank you and waited until the door closed behind Xavier before he spoke.
You were silent. Still processing. Your heart was like rapid fire against your chest and your vision was slowly losing focus on the paper in front of you.
Logan pulled the paper from your hands and placed it on the desk before shuffling closer and holding onto both of your hands.
“Hey, hey, look at me.” One of Logan’s hands came to rest by the side of your face. “Just breathe. I can hear your heartbeat from here. Just…take a deep breath.”
“We’re married, Logan.” Your voice was quieter than usual.
“I know.”
“We’re married.”
Logan nodded. “I know.”
“What are we going to do?”
“That one I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
You shrugged. “What are we meant to do? By all technicality…we’re married. Husband and Wife. According to this piece of paper, I’ve been a fraud to the government by not going by Howlett.”
“So we…we get a divorce?”
“How? Don’t there have to be…grounds for getting divorced?”
“So, we tell them it was a mistake.” Logan offered. “I’m sure we’ll be divorced as quick as we found out we were- are married.”
You could only nod.
Logan rubbed a thumb over each of your knuckles. “Hey, we’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine. Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I woke up and found out I’m a wife with a husband. That’s what’s going on. Jesus, are the lights always this bright in here?”
You covered your closed eyes with one hand, trying your best to stop the pounding in your head.
“How can you be so calm about this?”
Logan shrugged. “Figure you’re freaking out enough for the both of us.”
That made you laugh a little.
“Come on, we need to get to class. And you need to get dressed. Unless you want to teach in your pyjamas.”
You looked down at yourself. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about using your t-shirt. Laundry day.”
Logan smiled. “It’s okay. Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”
Hours later, you found yourself in a pair of jeans you fished from the bottom of your semi-fresh clothes pile and decided to keep Logan’s t-shirt on. A, because it’s one of the most comfortable things you’ve worn, and B, it was the only clean top you had.
And after spending all day teaching classes, you found yourself going through each of your dirty items and throwing them into the washing machine, being careful to make sure there were no sneaky bright or dark colours that made their way into a wash they shouldn’t have been in.
“Hey.”
You turned to find Storm waiting by the door before walking inside.
“Hey.”
“How are you feeling?”
“After teaching a bunch of teenagers all day? Exhausted.” You said with a small laugh. And Storm chuckled for a moment before walking around you and leaning on the wall so she was facing you as you unloaded your dirty laundry into the machine.
“I know that feeling but that wasn’t why I was asking.”
You nodded. You knew that. “I don’t know. It’s just…new information.”
“Have you seen Logan today?”
You shook your head. “Not since this morning. Though he did leave a coffee on my desk when I got back to my classroom after lunch.”
Storm smiled. Between herself and the others (including the kids - though they were yet to find out) Storm thought the best thing to happen was for yourself and Logan to get married. Okay, maybe not in the way it happened. But it was a positive thing.
They had been watching you and Logan for years, becoming friends, becoming teammates, trusting each other, finding your own…ways together. Like with the coffee. Logan only did that with you. Or how, despite only knowing him a week, seemed to know more about him than anyone else did.
You were both so close with each other than some of the kids in the school had questioned your relationship status with each other.
“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”
“What can we do? The most reasonable, and sensible, thing to do is get a divorce.”
Storm crossed her arms. “Have you talked about maybe…staying together?”
“What?”
Storm shrugged. “It’s an idea. Maybe this is a sign telling you both that there’s something more than just friendship. I mean, going off what you’re currently wearing…that is his, isn’t it?”
You looked down.
“It’s laundry day. He let me wear it.”
“And are you going to give it back, or did he tell you to keep it?”
You were silent and Storm watched as small patches of blush warmed your cheeks. She had her answer.
“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is your chance to see if there is something more between you and Logan.”
“If there was, something would have happened by now.”
Oh, how Storm wished that was true.
But sometimes it was agony watching you both together. Like how at Christmas, you fell asleep against him by the fire and Logan smiled. It wasn’t a big grin, but he smiled. Or how you were the only one Logan would let near him when he had been impaled in his shoulder by a six foot rod. Or how you looked at him. And how he looked at you right back.
There was more than just friendship. A lot more.
“Just think about it.”
And with that she left. And you were left wondering.
What the hell was there to think about? You and Logan were friends, sure, but…more? Sure, when you first met him, it felt instant. Instant likeness, instant trust. And that never came easy for you. Or Logan for that matter. And, yeah, maybe once or twice you had thought something could have happened.
Like the night in the motel room, funnily enough, in Oklahoma.
It had been one bed and you had both woken up and turned to face each other. You had both been talking for a good twenty minutes when the conversation lulled and you were both there. You felt something. You couldn’t put your finger on it but you felt something. But everything was cut short when the owner of the Motel came to knock on the door so he could fix the leaky tap in the bathroom.
Or like the night when you all went camping with the kids.
Somehow, you had found yourself sharing a tent with Logan even though it had been planned for you and Storm to bunk.
You teased Logan on how happy he was to be bunked with you and not Scott. And for a split second, you could have sworn you saw him blush. Though it was probably out of embarrassment of your teasing.
But that couldn’t have been something. It couldn’t have meant anything, could it?
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Logan turned and found the last person he expected to be standing by the door.
“Scott?”
“Figured you’d still be awake and lo and behold, I was right.”
Logan watched as he walked inside and sat across from him. “Have you come to say something, or just be a dick the whole time?”
Scott chuckled, “Maybe a bit of both.”
Logan raised his eyebrows and took another drink.
“Have you talked to her?” Logan knew exactly who he was talking about. But he shook his head.
“Not since this morning.”
“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”
“What do you want, pal?”
Well, he wasn’t being Logan if he didn’t want to skip the pleasantries.
“I think you and Y/n should give this thing a chance.”
“Excuse me?”
Scott smirked a little. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve not thought about it with her. How close you two are, how you both seem to know what the other does before they even do it. And call it what you want, I think this is the perfect excuse.”
“Perfect excuse?”
“To see if something can actually happen between you two.”
“And why should it?”
“Because you’re in love with her.”
For some reason, that felt like a punch to the gut to Logan.
“Look, bub, I know-”
“Logan, the way you look at her isn’t the way a friend looks at another friend. I’ve seen the way you look at her. We all have. From day one, that girl has been something else for you, and even if you don’t know it, the rest of us do. You’re in love with her. You always have been.”
“No, I’m-”
“You can’t deny it, Logan.” Scott told him. “Eventually something is going to snap and it might be too late. So, you’ve done the whole relationship a little backwards. So what? You’d only get divorced anyway if it doesn’t work out. But you need to do something about your feelings, Logan.”
Logan had to laugh. “I think I’d know if I was in love with someone.”
Scott sighed. Did he seriously have to paint Logan a fucking picture.
“You make her coffee every day. You bring her lunch and sit with her every day. She is the first person you go to when you finally want to ask someone for help. And I know for a fact she is the first person you tell anything to. She knows more about you than anyone else in this building does, and that is down to you and everything you have shared with her. Anytime anyone looks in her direction, you aren’t too far behind her.”
“I saw you, that day, when the Mayor and his brother turned up at the school.” Scott continued. “The way his brother was looking her up and down…Logan you were by her side in less than ten seconds and we all saw the look you gave him. That man left the Professor’s office trembling. He also never looked in y/n’s direction again.”
“What’s your point?”
“That you were jealous, Logan. And that, for as much as you can and probably will try and deny it. You love her.”
The conversation lulled for a moment.
“All I’m saying is at least think about it. We’ve all seen you together. Maybe it’s time you finally noticed yourself.”
Logan didn’t see you until the next day when he caught you folding laundry in your room.
“Want some help?”
You turned around and saw him. “Sure. You can start with that pile.”
Logan entered your room, a little more awkward than usual, and started folding clothes.
“How are you…how are you feeling?”
You shrugged. “Like normal, I guess. What about you?”
“Yeah, fine.”
IT was a slight struggle after that but conversation flowed a little easier eventually.
That was something Logan always loved when it came to being around you. He wasn’t the biggest one for talking to people but with you, it was easy. Probably helped by the fact you could somehow change topics at lightning speed.
Conversations with you were never, ever boring.
Even when they were probably meant to be.
And it wasn’t long before your fear surrounding being married…faded.
Around a week later, a leak had sprung on one side of the school which meant having to bunk rooms for a while. Of course, all the kids went with their friends.
But it also meant you had to bunk with someone too.
“You can bunk with me.” Logan told you.
You nodded. “Finally sharing a room. Wow, we’re really moving generations in this relationship.”
“After you, wife.”
This became a common theme, until the weight of the words settled down on both of you once more.
A divorce lawyer had picked up your case.
It would take a couple of weeks to get all the papers sorted, but yourself and Logan would be divorced by the middle of the following month.
Like nothing had ever happened.
Except, it just so happened, that was when something did happen.
Scott and Storms’s words had been playing on Logan’s mind and yours. Not helped by the fact it wasn’t the last time someone held that kind of conversation with either of you.
You found yourself in a similar conversation with Scott, whilst Logan had a similar conversation with Jean.
And then the Professor approached you both, without the other one knowing.
Except he hadn’t been to sit down and talk to you about it. He just made small comments in passing that left you both questioning more and more about your true feelings.
And then Logan found you in the library one night.
“Here you are. You didn’t come to bed so…what are you doing?”
Standing close to the top of the book ladder, you were scanning through different books with a flashlight.
“The main light is too big and the fire’s light doesn’t reach this far back.”
Logan blinked. “That…still didn’t answer my question.”
“I’ve got a new semester of lessons set out. I wanted to get a head start on finding the books needed.”
Logan looked around. “You got a list?”
You looked at him. “Logan, it’s past midnight. Go to bed.”
“That’s not what I asked. Where’s your list? I know you’ve got one.”
Sighing, you reached into your back pocket and held it out. He walked over and plucked it from your fingers.
“There’s twenty six books on this list.”
“And I currently have three. If you still want to help, any that you find, just place them on the table behind the sofa.”
And so he did.
By two in the morning, you’d both found twenty three books in total. Just three more left.
“Is this the right edition?”
“Let me see.”
Logan walked over to where you were still standing on the ladder and handed it up to you. You flipped through a couple of the first pages as you slowly climbed backwards down the stairs.
“Yeah, this is the right one. The last two should be on a lower shelf.”
As you finally reached the last few steps, you felt your foot slip and your knees crashed against the bars. Except, instead of falling backwards, or rolling with the ladder itself, Logan’s hands steadied you.
“You alright?”
You took a second to breathe. Having your life flash before your eyes for a couple of seconds really knocks the wind out of you.
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’m fine.”
You turned in Logan’s arms and was met with his broad and solid chest as his hands held you at your waist.
“Good,” Logan laughed a little, too.
The sound of your life had always been like music to his ears.
A comfort, even when the moment hadn’t been all that comfortable beforehand.
And for that moment, time seemed to still. Any silence that had been in the room was slowly becoming defending, until your hearing focused on his breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the quickening of your own heartbeat.
The flashlight that you had held in your hands had rolled somewhere onto the floor when you slipped on the ladder.
But you had never seen Logan so…clearly.
You had known him for so long and had even spent nights and mornings in the same bed together. But for the first time, you were committing him to memory. Part of you felt like these moments would go, once the papers came through. That even if neither of you wanted it, something would inherently change between you both once the papers were signed and delivered.
But something in that moment was changing too.
Like how you were realising you never wanted to be away from him. That the best place on this earth was right where you were. In his arms, his eyes on you, and yours on him.��
You found yourself leaning in forward, almost as if, if you didn’t get closer to him, he might disappear.
And he was doing the same.
One of his hands came up to your face as he rubbed a couple of strands of your hair between his fingers before he slowly pushed it back and let his gaze wash over you.
He was committing you to memory, too.
His eyes locked on yours once more, just as his other hand trailed down your waist and to your hip.
You fell closer to him.
Or maybe he pulled you closer.
Either way, you never wanted to be without his touch.
What felt like an eternity later, you finally felt his lips against yours and yours against his.
It started off slow. This was new territory for you both when it came to the other. It was slow, full of mixed feelings and…something else.
Then it snapped.
Logan pushed a little harder and you felt your legs hit the back of the book ladder just as his hand and arm snaked around and up your back, holding you flush against him as your own arms pulled him closer to you.
Logan braced the hand that had been by your face, by the side of your head, holding onto the book ladder, keeping you both steady.
And he felt your breath hitch as he stepped into you.
Before you knew it, you were braced against one of the bars on the ladder as Logan’s lips went from yours, across your jaw and down the column of your neck. A small grunt escaped him as your own fingers scratched through the back of his hair and down the back of his neck.
However, just as his lips returned to yours and his hands slipped under the hem of your t-shirt– his t-shirt, as your own started reaching for the hem of his…a clock went off.
“W-w-w-w-w-wait. Wait. Stop.”
“Is everything okay?”
You swallowed. “Yes…no. I don’t know. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Logan wanted to ask “Why? Why shouldn't we?”. But instead, lowered his head. He knew why.
“You’re right…you’re right.”
Your own temple came to rest against his for a few moments, neither of you wishing to leave the moment just yet.
“We should go…before someone comes in.”
“It’s two in the morning, who is going to come in?”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“Then don’t.”
You stayed quiet for a long time, feeling Logan’s fingers draw circles over your skin. Eventually, the only sound you heard was his heartbeat and his breath, slowly matching your own.
But no matter how much of you told you to stay, you tried your best to fight it.
You and Logan were friends. Friends who were about to get a divorce from a marriage neither of you could remember fully consenting to.
“Goodnight, Logan.”
Reluctantly, you stepped out of his arms, his light grip on your hand not letting go until you were both too far apart to hold on any longer, and made your way through the school until you came across an empty room.
It was the smaller quiet space that overlooked the back of the school. Perfect for the nights when too much noise was keeping you up at night.
Except, it wasn’t noise keeping you awake.
It was your own mind, relieving the one thing you thought you would never do with Logan. The one thing you wanted most to keep going. The one thing you would never forget.
When Logan woke the next day, part of him thought it was all a dream. But even he couldn’t have dreamed up anything from the night before and have it still feel so real in the morning.
Then he didn’t see you for three days.
Save for one moment when he brought a box of your things from his room, to yours. You opened the door, wearing another one of his t-shirts. One that went missing months ago. One that he had seen on your at least a dozen times since. One that he felt he was truly seeing for the first time, on you.
The exchange, coming from the both of you together, couldn’t have felt anything more than awkward.
And then another moment hit.
You didn’t close the door.
He didn’t know what to say.
All he knew was that he wished he was back with you, in the library.
And you were wishing the same thing right back.
“I should-”
“You should-”
A small, awkward laugh came from both of you before eventually you shut the door, wishing you had enough confidence to open it back up and call after him.
Two days later, Logan hadn’t seen you at all.
And a morning meeting, with Storm going to get you from your bed, led to Logan realising why he hadn’t seen you.
“She’s not there?”
Logan turned immediately. “What?”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She’s not in her room or any other place she usually is this early in the morning.”
“Doesn’t she have classes to teach?” Scott asked.
“She doesn’t teach Wednesday and Thursday.” Logan told him.
And it wasn’t long before Logan heard his name being called behind him by Xavier as he marched his way out of the office and to every room he could think you would be.
You were nowhere to be found. It was almost like you hadn’t been there for weeks. The books you had taken out – the ones Logan had helped you find – were piled neatly in your bedroom. On your desk, you had a small wicker basket filled with letters and postcards, all arranged in date order, the newest ones being at the front.
The pictures you had on your windowsill displayed all the people you loved the most. And included a picture from when you had ambushed him on his birthday. He rarely, if ever, took a photo.
But he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly, with you.
“Where could she have gone?”
Logan looked around your room. You wouldn’t have just gotten up and left for good. You loved teaching your kids too much, despite whatever else had happened.
Then Logan saw the framed pictures on the wall, just across from your bed.
“I’ll check with Cyerbro. She couldn’t have gone far.”
“She could be half way across the world by now!”
Logan shook his head. “But she’s not.”
A lot of them were confused, but Xavier watched Logan for a moment.
“Do you know where she is?”
“I have an idea.”
With that, Logan reached for the wall and pulled down one of the smaller frames and carried it out with him.
“Hold on, I’m coming with you.” Storm called out to him.
“You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“Logan, you look like you’re just about ready to punch a bull. I know, right now, even if you are the last person she wants to see, you are the first person she needs. But that also means I know what you’re going to do and, love you or not, Y/n wouldn’t want you to hurt someone or even yourself to find her.”
And Storm was right.
And she was right to tag along.
Because just five hours later, Logan had pulled up outside a local pharmacy. They had received a call on the way; they were heading in the right direction, but they needed to go into the town first. Any chance of finding where she was in the mountains lay where she had been all day.
And it wasn’t long before Storm had to step in to stop Logan from almost killing the cashier.
He had been dancing around the question, leading them all on different tangents of conversation about the town and the people in it before finally he got to his answer.
The cashier nodded. “I don’t know where she lives, but Connie might. She knows everything in the town.”
“Where is Connie?”
The cashier pointed out of the door. “In the bakery, across the street.”
“Thank you,” Logan told him, swiping the picture back up from the counter and walking outside. Storm stopped short behind Logan when she saw he wasn’t moving off the sidewalk.
Then she saw.
You had just left the building and climbed inside your beaten up, old Jeep Wrangler. You pulled out of your parking spot and drove off down the street.
And Logan followed.
However, halfway up the road, he started to recognise the place. He’d been here before, except he was going up the way he would come down and out of the cabin.
So, he took a turn.
He was at your cabin ten minutes before you were. Storm had stayed behind in the town to call the others and let them know what was going on.
“You fixed her up well.”
You jumped at his voice and threw a can of pumpkin puree at his head. Though he managed to catch it before his head made a dent in the can.
“Jesus, Logan.” Then you realised. “How did you find me?”
“You forget that I know you. The pictures on your wall. They’re a lot more recent.”
You didn’t know what else to say so you turned back to your front door and pushed it open, Logan hurrying after you.
“Why did you leave?” He called out, placing the can on the side.
“I didn’t leave.” You called back as you unpacked some of your groceries.
“You disappeared into thin air but you weren’t abducted. I’d call that leaving.”
“I needed a break, Logan. I needed…time.”
“Time from what?”
“From everything. From you, from marriage, from the school, from the library. It’s like I woke up one morning and, quite literally, everything had changed. One day we were- we were teachers and friends…we were us, Logan. And then…we kissed and…I don’t know what we’re meant to do, Logan.” You dropped your head as you pressed your palms onto the kitchen counter.
“Maybe we’re meant to do nothing.” Logan walked towards you. “Maybe we keep things as they are.”
“What? Single and married?”
Logan shook his head, bringing his hand to pull yours to look at him.
“Married and together.”
Your lips parted for a moment, your eyes scanning his face, waiting for the joke to have its punchline.
“So, we did everything a little backwards?” Logan shrugged. “So what.”
“Logan…”
“I love you, y/n.” Logan told you, nothing but seriousness and truth in his eyes. “And I think you love me, too. But you’re scared. And so am I. Do you love me, y/n?”
You were trying your hardest to keep your emotions inside you, but something was failing. “Of course I do.”
“Then we start here, just you and me.”
“If something goes wrong, I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, Logan.”
Logan smirked. “Good job I can regenerate.”
You scoffed and hit him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
Logan nodded, a faint smile on his face. “I know. You’re not going to lose me, Y/n. You couldn’t ever.”
“Promise me.”
Logan nodded. “I promise. Can I kiss you now?”
Logan didn’t have time to finish his question before your lips met his in a searing kiss, your hands pulling him closer to you whilst his own arms wrapped around you.
Maybe you had done the whole relationship thing backwards, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore.
Not when you finally had each other for life.
#logan x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x fe!reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x fe!reader#x men x reader#hugh jackman wolverine#x men wolverine#fluff#yearning#best friends to lovers#angst#library kiss#logan howlett x mutant!reader#chaotic family kinda#falling in love#wearing his t-shirt
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[It’s considered good etiquette to ask a man about his wife’s wellbeing. Except if the man in question is Dracule Mihawk.]
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Garp hates having to call Mihawk, mainly because of the warlord's attitude. Used to the usual "yes, sir!" of the Marines, a man with his own will and agenda is not something he entirely knows how to navigate. Especially since both of them know that the World Government needs the warlords more than they need the bureaucracy. And that doesn't exactly help in exercising power.
His attempts at diplomacy have burst into flames each time and today isn't going to be much different:
"How’s the missus?" Garp asks in the nicest tone he can force although he's aware that Mihawk knows how much the vice admiral hates asking for Dracule's assistance.
Mihawk only scoffs. "Are you calling just to spoil my mood or is there another reason for your impertinence?"
"I was just trying to-"
"Don't," he cuts him off in a stern voice. "If you have business with me, speak fast. If you're interested in my wife, I know where you live, Garp. I'd suggest losing your unwelcome nosiness before you lose something else."
Little did Garp know at the time but his little question was possibly the worst strategy he could think of. Dracule Mihawk is not like most men and the mere mention of his wife by acquaintances only enrages him. Work and private life do not ever mix. And he'll be damned if someone tries to breach that, even in the form of a courtesy. Therefore, the rest of the call was filled with openly insulting answers that were bold even for Mihawk. A veiled threat or two also found their way into their rather tense conversation.
You know he's done with Garp when he lets out a frustrated grunt. Sometimes you wonder if this grumpy, forever dissatisfied version of him is the only side of Mihawk his acquaintances know. Maybe he really is two men in the form of one.
He's sitting at his desk, thinking about something and not bothering to get up for now. Considering the fact that his hat is lying on the table and not on his head, Mihawk is probably not planning on going out anytime soon. Then again, judging by his spoiled mood, his homestay is a blessing for the first poor sods that would cross his path.
In slow steps, you stroll to his side, letting your hand brush through his hair. He doesn't say anything, only leans his head further towards you. The thing about Mihawk is that he loved to reject and decline but he never does so to you. No, in your case it's the opposite - he revels in allowing you whatever you want.
So intimidating and combative, yet soft and looking for intimacy. Truly, two men with the face of one.
"My mother used to say that each grey hair is one thing we worry about," you say quietly. "At this rate, love, your whole head will be white by noon."
"Your mother also says that milk goes sour because gnomes piss in it," he retorts. Yes, your mother and her strange folk beliefs... She's probably the only person Mihawk can force himself to be nice to despite his dislike.
His response earns a hearty laugh from you. Clear as day, you can see his posture relax as he listens to the music of your happiness. If he even thinks about the possibility of Garp or any other of his acquaintances hearing it, he might just get furious again.
"Well, nobody's perfect," you say between chuckles.
Then, Mihawk gently grabs your hand and lowers it to his face. With softness and passion that hardly befits a man of his infamy, he kisses the inside of your hand. "You seem to be doing so effortlessly."
#mihawk one piece#mihawk#one piece mihawk#mihawk fanfiction#dracule mihawk#mihawk x reader#one piece#opla#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece fanfiction#one piece fanfic#one piece imagine#dracule mihawk fanfic#dracule mihawk x you#dracule mihawk fanfiction#dracule mihawk x reader
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— STILL PURE
PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — Feyd yells at his daughter for interrupting him at work. His wife confronts him about his behaviour as she tries to explain to the little Countess that her father was never taught how to express love.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — Feyd is already the Baron in this fic but I assumed women cannot inherit on Giedi Prime so the daughter is "only" a Countess while her younger brother is a Na-Baron. I used my headcanon that if half-Harkonnen children have hair, then they're white because they lack pigment. I also wanted her to have big black Harkonnen eyes so badly... Basically, I wanted Feyd's daughter to look like this:
WORD COUNT — 2,990
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
STILL PURE
Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was circling around the big table in the conference room where the huge orb of Giedi Prime had been replaced with Arrakis’ one as one of his advisors was explaining the difficult situation regarding the spice production. The new wave of Fremen rebels who worshipped the long gone and deceased Muad’Dib decided to continue their idol’s legacy as they sabotaged the spice production controlled by The Harkonnen forces. The Governor of Arrakis was slowly losing control over the situation and Feyd would rather avoid going there himself. He was needed on Giedi Prime – especially now when The Emperor was on his deathbed. He had to be around in case something important would happen and everyone knew The Baron had his eyes set on the Imperial Throne. Feyd had to choose a new Governor of Arrakis or provide the current one with good advice, hoping for the Fremen problem to disappear soon. It was worrying him because it was giving him a bad reputation at the moment for having problems on Arrakis – it could make some leaders of the great houses to think he was not worthy enough to become the next Emperor.
Feyd’s hands were clasped behind his back as he circled like a shark and all his advisors looked down, taking a step back whenever he approached them. They knew his temper would only rise when he was angered whenever he would experience problems of such nature when it came to reigning over The Harkonnen properties.
“What does the Fremen leader say? Stilgar? That was his name?” Feyd barked at one of the scared advisors.
“Stilgar says he has no control over the cultists. He does not support their actions. He wants nothing but peace, my Lord,” the man bowed his head.
“How bad is it? The most important thing so far is to keep the problem on Arrakis a secret,” Feyd hummed to himself.
“Five percent of the decrease in the spice production income,” the other advisor answered. “Not bad, but can be noticeable in the amount we export.”
“We shall export some of our own private reserves to cover the loss. In the meantime, we have to deal with the cultists,” Feyd decided, already annoyed at the fact he had to sacrifice his own supplies just to cover up the careless governing of Arrakis which was not his fault. “Send more troops there, the operation should be classified confidential. Threaten Lord Volonov to take care of it. He’s got a month before I replace him with someone more capable…”
Quiet pat pat pat sound coming from the corridor was becoming louder and louder until the black doors finally opened slightly and the guard standing by them spotted a pair of two big black eyes staring up at him.
“My Lord,” he tried to catch The Baron’s attention but Feyd had his back turned on him as he angrily explained the details of the operation to his advisors.
Little Countess Sevina Harkonnen gave the guard puppy eyes as she struggled with the heavy doors. She wanted to come inside and he didn’t know what to do. He was aware that his Lord Baron did not want to be interrupted but he didn’t want to close the door in the girl’s face either. He peeked outside but there was no servant around and The Baroness was not there either. He decided it would be better for the girl to come inside instead of letting her roam around the fortress alone.
She smiled widely at him and jumped inside the room happily as her white hair bounced. She was lucky enough to inherit most of her mother’s looks although her skin was paler, her hair lacked pigment and her pupils were nothing but two completely big black orbs – those were the eyes even her father did not have but they were a result of the pollution her mother’s body had been exposed to on Giedi Prime at the time of her pregnancy.
Not realising how tense the atmosphere in the room was, she approached her father as all the advisors and servants were making wide eyes at her. She stood behind The Baron and pulled on his shirt to make him turn around.
At first, he flinched at the odd feeling of someone pulling him. Who would dare to do that? He turned around quickly with an angry expression on his face but then he looked down and spotted his little daughter. She startled a bit at the sight of his annoyance but she kept staring at him with her big black eyes filled with love and excitement.
“What are you doing here?” Feyd barked at her.
“Can you play with me, daddy?” She pleaded with a big grin.
A few lords smirked at that and Feyd’s jaw clenched. Not only had she interrupted him but also humiliated him.
“Can’t you fucking see that I’m busy?!” He lashed out at her and she took a step back as her eyes filled with tears and betrayal. “Get out of here!” He pointed at the doors.
They opened at that very moment as the nanny entered the room and looked around, surprised at the sight of scared faces and the little Countess being in the centre of attention.
“There you are!” She opened her arms at the sight of the girl. “I’ve told you not to interrupt your father, he’s in the middle of a meeting,” she reminded nervously as the girl ran up to her and hid her face in the folds of her skirt. “Forgive me, my Lord,” the nanny bowed her head at Feyd-Rautha.
“You’re useless,” he drawled. “Get out.”
“Y-yes, my Lord,” the woman held Sevina’s hand and walked out as quickly as possible.
You left the nursery where your son na-baron had just fallen asleep. On your way back to your chambers, you passed by the doors leading to your daughter’s room and you froze at the muffled sound of sobbing. Concerned, you decided to enter without knocking.
Little Sevina was crying on her bed as the scared nanny tried to calm her down by rubbing her back and shushing her.
“What is going on?” You asked as the doors closed behind you.
“M-my Lady Baroness,” the nanny stood up and straightened herself to bow down slightly.
“What happened? Why is she crying?” You asked her in an accusing tone.
“I… I lost her out of my sight when we were playing earlier today, I’m sorry… I found the young Countess in her father’s conference room. She had interrupted The Baron during a council… I think he lashed out at her, my Lady…” the woman tried to explain nervously as her hands shook.
“You’re useless,” you sighed and she widened her eyes. “Get out, I’ll deal with that myself,” you pointed at the doors and she bowed down once again before leaving quickly.
You approached the bed and sat on the edge of it as Sevina raised her head to look at you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of her cheeks covered in tears.
“What happened, sweet darling?” You asked her gently while you caressed her back.
“Why doesn’t daddy love me?” She asked with so much pain and sincerity in her tiny, shaky voice that you nearly cried yourself.
You knew it wasn’t true. Feyd-Rautha loved his daughter. Even though he had been a bit disappointed she was not a son in the beginning – he had only said not to worry about it much; that the boy would come next. He had been treating Sevina as if she was made of glass in the first months of her life, so scared of accidentally hurting her because hurt was all he knew.
“Oh, Sevina, don’t think that…” You sighed and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Daddy loves you so much,” you assured her but of course she wasn’t convinced. “He would kill and die for you, little girl,” you added.
“I don’t want him to kill and die for me, mummy,” Sevina sobbed as those were the concepts she was too young to grasp. “I just want daddy to play with me.”
“He doesn’t know how to play, Sevina,” you fixed her ruffled hair while trying to explain calmly. “He didn’t have a mummy or daddy when he was your age. The way I kiss you or hug you and play with you… He has never had it, darling,” you felt a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You were angry at your husband for yelling at your daughter and making her feel unloved but you were also angry at all the suffering that he had gone through in his past.
There were scars and damages that could never be undone, no matter how much you loved someone.
“And you’re big enough to know that daddy shouldn’t be interrupted when he’s working. You know that he tends to get angry more easily then,” you reminded her. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I wanted daddy to play with me,” she snuggled closer to you and you kissed the top of her head, rubbing her tiny arms with your thumbs and cradling her softly to calm her down.
Feyd had been back in your chambers already when you entered. You froze at the sight of him, irritated. However, he seemed to act as usual.
“Five percent,” he snapped at you, although not angrily. “We will have to replace the loss with our own supply so the other lords don’t realise we are expecting problems on Arrakis. That stupid son of a bitch Volonov can’t handle a few cultists and…”
“I don’t care about any of that,” you interrupted him and turned your back on him to approach your vanity table and sit by it, pretending to be more interested in reapplying the powder.
“What?” Feyd was visibly surprised as he watched you in disbelief. You had always been a support for him, especially in difficult times. You both had been plotting on how to take over the Imperial Throne and now you weren’t interested in something as important as the problems with harvesting spice on Arrakis? It didn’t make sense to him.
You ignored him and focused on brushing your hair now, watching him from the corner of your eye in the reflection of the mirror of your vanity table. He approached you, hesitantly.
“What do you mean you’re not interested?” He tilted his head as he leaned in, trying to intimidate you but you didn’t even flinch.
“I’ve just spent an hour calming down Sevina. You yelled at her,” you eventually looked up to look deep into his eyes. He took a deep breath in, irritated.
“She should have learnt by now not to interrupt me,” Feyd straightened his back and walked away. “She’s spoiled,” he added. “Knows nothing about discipline. It’s your fault.”
“She’s a little girl,” you turned around. “You can’t expect military habits from her. She’s your daughter, Feyd.”
“She’s lucky I only yelled. If I interrupted my uncle as a child like that, I’d be punished!” He raised his voice at you, frustrated that you were defending your daughter and making a problem out of something that he considered to be normal.
You hated it when he would raise his voice at you. You stood up angrily and yelled as well.
“Oh, so you think she should be raised the same way you were?!” You asked. “Alright then! Go to her room, grab her by the neck and flog her back with a whip just because she wanted to play with her father!” You pointed at the doors furiously as your eyes were burning with wrath. “Go on! I dare you.”
But Feyd didn’t even move. His jaw was clenched as he was staring at you speechlessly.
“Go. What are you waiting for?” You kept pushing him. “Go on.”
You kept looking into his eyes with so much intensity he eventually gave up and looked down, awkwardly as the guilt started to creep in. You won.
“You rejected her. She thinks you don’t love her,” your voice calmed down but it was still vicious. “And I was assuring her that you do but it felt as if I was assuring myself, too,” you added, just to hurt him. “I can’t stand to look at you, Feyd-Rautha,” you drawled and approached the doors to leave him alone but not without striking the final blow. “I can’t believe I wanted to give you children so badly,” you turned your head to look at him as he looked up, surprised at your words, “because you don’t deserve them.”
The doors opened in front of you and you walked out to go back to your daughter.
You were sitting on the black fluffy carpet in the middle of Sevina’s room. She was on your lap, with her tiny arms around your neck, cuddling you. There were toys scattered all around the floor but she wanted to take a break for the loving cuddles. She was very unusual for a half-Harkonnen and you were very aware of the fact she was making most people around feel uncomfortable.
Not only her father but everyone in the fortress were stiff around sweet little Sevina who was so full of life and curiosity, always wanting to hug everyone – even servants and guards. Wherever she went, there was a sound of laughter and a sudden feeling of warmth. Countess Sevina Harkonnen was the very first little girl living in that fortress in a long time and she was so different from all its inhabitants. She was too young to know that she was a daughter of Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen – a man feared all over the Empire. That her bloodline was cursed with death and violence. She was still pure and innocent. Perhaps she was a living proof that The Harkonnens were not born this way after all – but they were made in the endless cycle of abusive upbringing. You did not want the same fate for her. You knew she would have to get rougher with time but you hoped she would still remain gentle, too.
The doors to her room opened and you looked up. At the sight of your husband, you protectively put your arm around your little girl. You doubted that he wanted to do what you had angrily suggested before but you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t anyway. Sevina stiffened at the sight of her father and clung to you. It brought you pain to realise that at that very moment she was afraid of him.
“Sevina, we have to talk,” Feyd stood above you two as he started in a serious tone. You gave him a scolding look and your little girl hid her face in the crook of your neck, hiding. “You know perfectly well not to interrupt me while I’m working.”
Long silence occurred. You could see Feyd’s struggle as he had no idea what to do to fix this situation between him and his daughter.
“Sevina, apologise to daddy,” you looked down and she looked up with tears in her big black eyes. “You shouldn’t have interrupted him and you know that, darling,” your voice was soft and calm and she sniffed.
“I’m sorry, daddy,” Sevina turned her body around to face him but she refused to look at him.
“Now, you apologise to Sevina for being mean,” you looked up at your husband and you spotted panic in his eyes. “Now,” you insisted sternly.
“I’m sorry for being mean to you,” Feyd crouched down to be on her level. She hesitantly looked at him. “Can I get a hug, too?” He asked and his voice broke a tiny bit.
Slitting someone’s throat open was less awkward and unusual to him than to ask for a hug. Your heart ached for him but you were an adult capable of understanding his patterns. Sevina was not.
Her heart was big, though, and she loved her father, so she would forgive him everything. She nodded her head with a happy smile and ran into his arms to squeeze him tight. Tears pricked your eyes at the sight.
“I love you, darling,” Feyd whispered quietly with his cheek pressed to the top of her head. “I would kill for you. I would die for you,” he confessed.
“But she doesn’t want any of that,” you explained. “She just wants you to spend time with her.”
“Is that right?” He looked down at his little girl and she looked up with her puppy eyes as she nodded. Her tiny hands reached out to cup his face.
“I love you, daddy,” she assured him. “Can you play with me?”
“I don’t know how to play, I’m sorry,” he admitted with guilt in his voice.
“I will teach you,” she hugged him again.
Feyd put his arms around his little girl and pulled her closer. You crawled on the carpet to give him a hug, too. You could feel that he was slightly trembling, so you leaned in to place a kiss on his temple as your hand caressed his head soothingly.
“It’s not weak to show affection,” you reminded him in a whisper. “I’ve never loved you more than when you are like this.”
Feyd laid his eyes on you. They were filled with a mix of pain, guilt and relief. At the end of the day, the only approval he was seeking was yours. You had him wrapped around your little finger.
“So, how do you want to play?” He asked Sevina as he caressed her white hair with admiration. She clapped her hands cheerfully.
“I want to be a Princess,” her eyes sparkled. “And you’ll be my guard.”
Feyd chuckled at that, showing off his black teeth. Sevina giggled as she had never found them scary.
“Soon enough, my darling one, you’ll be a real Princess,” he assured her.
MASTERLIST
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I mean, would the GIW be aware of halfas, or are they thinking it's just a type of ghost that can mimic a mostly human form? [Also the weaponized incompetence actually makes a lot of sense] I don't think they'd be aware of Dan being an alternate timeline fusion though, because logically like, how would they learn that? I don't think anyone in the know would tell anyone, and like, it's Dan's secret to tell if that makes sense?
And yeah, everything went to shit real fast. Jordan had to make a split decision of rescue Vlad or get the kids out of there, and with Jazz being so hurt that she is actively dying... He made the decision to scoop them all up and flee.
Vlad wouldn't even be able to be caught if not for the GIW attacking when they did. He's started his redemption arc, he'd just made semi-peace with the Fentons his friends who he missed dearly even as he rotted in rage and loneliness who are now... gone. No chance to form a ghost just... obliterated. Torn apart molecule by molecule and corpses near unrecognizable.
That? That nearly breaks him. The only thing that stops him from shattering- metaphorically and perhaps slightly literally- is the knowledge that the kids escaped, which means they're somewhere out there alive.
Then like you said, there's the panic of A: massive fucking dragon flying through the skies, B: time travellers' panic over world ending threat existing in this timeline somehow, and C: the panic when someone gets close enough to realize this massive creature has young with it.
Not to mention the pressure on the heroes to either take it down, or thanks to the biologists and cryptozoologists making a fuss, move it away from people so it can be studied because again, giant fucking dragon.
They don't know exactly what they can and should do- besides stop some supervillians from shooting at it and- okay that person just got nearly melted by dragon fire, what did they expect-
And Dan? He's panicked, he's emotionally wrought, he's partially shut down because otherwise he's going to go into a rage. The only thing stopping him? The fact that the kids HisFlightHisFraidHisHISHIS are alive and Right in front of him.
He'll have to land eventually- curse being partly alive and human again for making him need rest and food and water- but like Hell is he going to do it anywhere near where the GIW can get them easily. He's not- he's not going to let it happen again-
He can't lose them, or he'll break. And this time there won't be a squirt to drag him from over the edge kicking and snarling.
Prompt 300
Danny squirms and hisses, trying to dig his claws into dark scales as the clouds whistle by. “Wait- Ancients dammit- STOP!” he shrieked, cursing how tiny his own ghost form was compared to his other not-quite-future-self. Wings that could easily dwarf the entire Ops center beat through the air, fast enough to cause his eyes to sting.
“Dan- bring me back- stop-” he wailed, despite the grip on his scruff not even loosening. Yet the larger dragon didn’t so much as twitch back towards Amity, the city disappearing into the distance like a speck. “We have to go back-”
The GIW were- were- They had to go back! The portal was gone (exploded, broken and all of Fentonworks a smoldering mess, oh Ancients he’s gonna be sick-), no one could return to the Realms, they were all sitting ducks-
“Jordan please-” he begged, even though he already knew that between the city, between every other ghost and them, Dan would always choose to keep them safe. But Jazz was hurt, she wasn’t waking up from where she lay limply cradled in Dan’s claws.
There was so much blood, and he only knew she was still alive from the weak fluttering of her core, growing stronger as her heartbeat faded. She needed help, she needed doctors- he doesn’t know if she would be able to come back, not with how they were leaving the ecto-rich city behind and he didn’t want to lose her- Dan’s blank panic was swamping his own, drowning both of them in the emotion as the dragon tore through the sky. Some part of him knew they couldn’t stay in Amity anymore, but- But Jazz needed help- Danny couldn’t help the tears that dripped from his yes, pretending it was merely the clouds as they flew to places unknown to him.
If you are interested in their designs, here is a link: HERE
Heey mutual @radiance1 Dragon buddy o' mine
#Ghosts are Dragons#Halfa Jazz#dad dan#Yeah Vlad's core is Plasma#I usually have it as Plasma or Fire#Or a plasma core but he Thinks it's fire#Vlad isn't technically full grown what with not being 100 yet but he's still BIG#He's a long boi clinging to his dragon/ghost form because of the knowledge that going to his human would put the others in danger#And he's going to do his best to give them a head start to get them to safety even if it ends in him Ended#Meanwhile Dan is THIS close to a breakdown- Danny is having a breakdown- Jazz is unconscious- and Ellie has to be born again#Halfas having a body of flesh and blood have to regrow it from scratch so while she'd have all her memories... yeah Ellie is gonna breakdow#I wanna say some idiot dispatches a jet or drone to try and take the dragon out & it's only when they get closer that they realize#just how BIG the dragon is- the power practically oozing in the air around it like ozone- blood-red eyes glancing at them before Teeth Snap#Down and they see no more#Dan is very protective of the ghostlings & will melt a proper nest before even temporarily nesting/resting#He isn't sure what type of core Jazz has & is worried about if an area is too cold or hot so has to find a good middle ground to rest#Which is probably about when a hero first approaches#Even if Dan & the hatchlings aren't speaking (government trust? they have none of that) & if/when they do it's ghost-speak#I bet part of Vlad's redemption included turning off or destroying his portal (and the cloning area after he made Dan's body probably)#(I wonder if out of context timetravel people start beliving Jordan is Vlad's son from the future or something)
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Finishing Gifts ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
♡ SUMMARY: after a few days of ignoring him, Aaron makes an effort to get your behavior to return to normal
♡ WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, female and male masturbation, phone sex, mentions of watching porn, sex toys, drinking, small mentions of criminal minds-esque themes and violence, pretty much porn with very little plot, this is not edited like at all
♡ NOTE: something about writing aaron masturbating makes me go brrrrrr
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You had thought you were keeping your cool. Honestly, truly, you had thought no one would notice the small changes in your behavior. You had tried to be subtle in dodging Hotch, doing it slowly and over time. It had started with piggybacking Spencer’s theories in the field, which led to pushing to go look at a crime scene rather than to the police department with Hotch. Then evolved into getting deep into conversation with JJ as you approached the jet, using it as an excuse to claim a seat next to her rather than your normal position between Hotch and the window.
These acts had gone unnoticed, or, at least, you’d thought. In your determination to avoid them, you hadn’t noticed the strange looks Derek and Morgan had thrown each other, and then Aaron, as you relaxed next to JJ. You missed Garcia questioning what had been up with you as you extended your time making coffee before a briefing, just so you didn’t have to walk behind Hotch into the room.
But, your latest change to avoid your unit chief definitely didn’t fly under the radar. This one was loud and clear, and absolutely threw off the entire BAU.
You’d just completed, by all possible metrics, a very successful case. It was a rare one, looking at terrorism in the DC area. A group of people who were planting explosives around the city, in unsuspecting areas. Instead of targeting political buildings or memorials, they focused on smaller-scale destruction. The team had been able to put the perpetrators away with no more casualties than those that were gone before the team landed. All in all, it was incredibly stressful, but a win for the team.
So, after Emily’s suggestion and Derek’s reminder that it was an extended weekend due to a government holiday, the team was getting ready to head to the bar. You had begged to go home to shower, promising you’d take an Uber (so you could, in Penelope’s words, “get fucked up with the girls”) and meet them at the bar in about an hour.
You put on your best outfit, showing an appropriate amount of cleavage, and did your makeup to the best of your abilities. After you’d cleaned up, you went to open your Uber app, excited to have a night to relax.
However, you were cut off when a phone call overtook your screen. “Aaron” the contact name read, indicating it was your unit chief, and that he was calling from his personal cellphone. You let ring a few times before picking up, not wanting to seem too eager to talk to your boss.
“Hellooo,” you practically sung into the phone, too excited to be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him. He simply replied with a formal “hello,” followed by your name. “Please don’t tell me you’re ruining my longggg weekend,” You said to him, and he swore he could hear some of jewelry shaking. You couldn’t keep your excitement in, shaking your wrists, which made your bracelets make noise.
He chuckled a bit at your reaction to him calling, “No, no. I was just calling to see if you had left yet.” You smiled against the phone, knowing where this conversation was going. “Nope! I was actually ordering my Uber when you called,” you informed him. “So, you haven’t ordered it?” He questioned again, to which you replied with a “uh-uh”.
You couldn’t tell but your excitement about going out with your friends was essentially oozing through the phone, causing Aaron to maintain a bright smile on his face. You weren’t aware of how your vibe, your energy, was able to lift a weight off of Aaron’s shoulders that had been there for as long as he could remember.
“I also had to run home before meeting the team. If you’d like, I can pick you up.” Your smile, somehow, grew even bigger. Any excuse to see Aaron was a good one, you’d thought.
However, your face quickly fell when you reminded yourself that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You felt a pang in your heart as you said, “Thanks, but I have a few things to finish up here! I appreciate the offer, Hotch.”
With a quick, formal goodbye, the called ended. Aaron tried to ignore the fact that you lied to him as he drove the rest of the way. You had said you were about to call your Uber, and he heard your jewelry, meaning you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit. So why wouldn’t you accept his ride?
He tried to ignore the blow to his chest when you called him Hotch. Something about the use of his last name made him feel as if he’d done something wrong. Not that it was unusual for you, or anyone really, to call him that. It was the emphasis you’d put on it. As if you were trying to make it known he was Hotch and not Aaron.
Aaron tried to turn off his profiling ability, but it was proving to be had as all of his thoughts were currently encompassed by you.
The night, and the whole weekend if you were being honest, went by in a blur. You could tell Aaron had noticed the change in your behavior. You were standoffish at the bar, pretty much avoiding any conversation with him. You just hoped by the end of the long weekend it would be forgotten, and you’d be able to continue work as normal.
This dream was quickly demolished as Aaron was summoning you into his office before you had the chance to even put your bag down and unpack your files.
The sound of calling your last name both frightened and intrigued you. You couldn’t help but be attracted to the authority in his voice, even if it could mean you were going to be in trouble.
As you stepped into the voice, Aaron didn’t even look up. He mumbled a “shut the door, please,” as he finished recording some notes on an opened file in front of him. You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for some kind instruction or reasoning from him.
“Please,” he gestured to the seats in front of his desk. You nodded, clumsily making your way to them. “I didn’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable by calling you in here,” he began.
You weren’t sure if you were more scared by being called into his office, to have a conversation that required you to both sit down and shut the door, or the intense eye contact he was maintaining as he introduced whatever discussion you two were about to have.
“I just couldn’t help but notice,” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words to say, “a recent change in your behavior.” You hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes went wide, knowing you’d been caught. You didn’t have to ask what he was talking about to know you’d been caught, but you did anyway, “What do you mean?” You thought you were playing your part well, furrowing your eyebrows to truly emphasis your fake confusion.
“It feels as though you’ve been avoiding me.” Aaron says. His tone isn’t angry or even authoritative, but rather, disappointed. There’s a slight huff in the way he spoke. He didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself before he continued, “Which is fine if you so choose to do so. I would just like to know if it was because of something I did and if I could fix it. I want the team to function as well as it can, and I feel as though it would not if there was conflict between you and I.”
Aaron had to find a professional spin to throw his statement, knowing the professionalism of this situation was debatable at best. “Oh, sir,” you blushed, not really knowing what to say, “I don’t believe there is any conflict between us.” Your voice was formal, too formal. It was obvious you were under pressure. “So, what is it then?” He questioned.
You could feel yourself growing small under his intense stare. You could also feel the wet patch growing between your legs, making you slightly uncomfortable.
“You, uh, you kind of make nervous.” With your quiet voice and stutter, and the way your thighs squeezed together, it was easy for Aaron to pick up on the reason he made you nervous. His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink instantaneously. “Oh,” his voice trailed off, followed by your quiet, “yeah.”
There was a few beats of silence before he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad to hear there’s no issues between us.” You nodded with his words, growing even more nervous. Your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, it’s just been a minute since I’ve, ya know, and I know you’re boss but I will be completely professional and this will not effect my work in or out of the field.”
While you mean to be assuring your boss that your attraction to him was no detriment to your work, you just admitted that it’s been a minute since you’ve had an orgasm. You needed to end this conversation quickly.
“If that’s all,” You said as you stood, “I have a few more reports to finish.” Aaron simply nodded, dismissing you back into the bullpen. You made a break for the bathroom, hoping to have a few minutes to collect yourself before facing the race of the team. You felt exposed, knowing you were entering a room of profilers after since a painful experience. You needed some time alone.
After a mini-breakdown, and cleaning up your messed up mascara, you made your way to your desk. Calm and collected. That’s all you had to be. Calm and collected.
Serial killers and other criminals had quieted down for the week, in an unlikely turn of events. You’d only had to travel for one day, quickly solving a kidnapping case and the finding the perpetrator. The week flew by swimmingly. Nothing odd had happened.
Until you opened your door Saturday morning.
You hadn’t ordered anything, that much you were sure of. Even if you did, you tended to shop at places with bright packaging that made you feel like you were opening a gift when it was delivered. This unsuspecting, plain box was not here on your accord, yet it had your name and address on it.
The FBI agent side of you flipped into protection mode, racing to grab your phone and dial up the one person you knew that could tell you what to do if there happened to be a bomb inside of the box. Derek Morgan. “Pretty girl, why are you facetiming me at 8:27am on a Saturday?” He teased with a smile on his face. No matter what time it was, Derek was ready to listen.
“I got this box and I don’t know what it is. I just want someone to be around when I open it.” You informed him, sitting down next to the box. You should probably be standing, just in case you had to make a run for it but you were too worried about getting it open to think that far ahead.
“Alright,” He said, urging you to open it. You nodded to him, setting up the phone so he could you see and the box in the frame. You carefully tore off the tape, and let out a sigh of relief when nothing happened when it moved. You lifted the flaps slowly, taking a loud gasp when you saw it was. You hoped Derek didn’t see, and moved quickly to pick up your phone to hang up before he could.
“It’s not a bomb! I’m good, thanks Derek!” You rushed, hanging up before he could say anything. Your eyes didn’t leave the box as you let your arms fall to your sides. Sitting inside of it was a small, pink rose toy. A vibrator. That you definitely didn’t order.
You grabbed the box, hoping none of your neighbors saw it. It’s not that masturbation was wrong or immoral or that you didn’t partake, it was just weird if the people around you were aware of your toys.
So, you made sure your door was tightly closed before putting the box on the table and digging through it. There was all the normal things, the vibrator itself, large bubble wrap, and a paper receipt with the name of the product: Intimately GG Rose Suction Simulator from Pink Cherry.
However, there was another piece of paper at the bottom of the box. It was a typed note that read, “I hope this helps us go back to normal. A.H”. You knew exactly one person with the initials A.H. so it wasn’t rocket science to figure out who had ordered you this sex toy.
You weren’t sure if you were more turned on or embarrassed.
Aaron was your boss. Your kind, protective, strong, hot, sexy, boss. But still your boss. You wondered if this is something he would’ve done for someone like Emily or Penelope if they’d been in your predicament. It clicked quickly that it definitely wasn’t, and that made you special in Aaron Hotchner’s eyes.
So, you made a mental note to give him a call, after you tried out your toy. Luckily, you had your cleaning solution and an old bottle of lube from your past encounters. You made quick work of getting the toy clean and finding a video to help you get yourself off.
Of course, the man in the video was a white man who was bit older, with broad shoulders and black hair. No coincidence there.
You started with your boobs, taking time to massage each one before pulling on and pinching them to get yourself warmed up. Between the sounds coming from the video and the excitement of finally having time to yourself, your hands didn’t take long to move downwards, tracing along the length of your body. One hand continued caressing your side as the other made its way to your core.
The thought of Aaron going out of his way to help you get off and the visual of a man who looked similar to him getting his dick sucked had you borderline dripping on your bedsheets as you used your hand to start toying with your clit. You started with small circles, matching the speed of the girl sucking Aaron’s lookalike’s dick.
You stayed like this for a while, allowing yourself to go slow, really take your time pleasuring yourself. The guy in the video had already finished on the girl’s tits by the time you reached for your rose toy. You didn’t need the visual anymore, perfectly crafting dirty scenarios of your unit chief in your head.
You started on low. There was gentle sucking on your clit as you imagined the way Aaron would kiss. He’s experienced, you know that for sure. You could imagine the way he’d start gentle, maybe even cupping your face as he pulled you close. He’d let you feel like you were in charge, before his tongue made its way inside your mouth. His dominant side would take over, using his body to press you against whatever surface you were sat on.
As you fantasized about his dominant side, you cranked up the toy to the next level. You let out a loud moan at the new feeling. Your free hand moved back to your breast, squeezing, while you did your best to imagine Aaron’s large hands doing it instead.
You could feel the coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter as you imagined Aaron slowly stripping your body, dragging his hand along each and every curve. With a sharp pinch to your nipple and a cry of Aaron’s name, you came undone all over your rose toy.
You could feel your slick dripping down your hand as you worked yourself through your orgasm, making sure to enjoy it for as long as you could. You wished you could savor this feeling. It was the strongest, best orgasm you’d ever had. Nothing could compare to the euphoria you felt right now.
You flicked the toy off and sat it to the side once the feeling became too much. You couldn’t bring yourself to move from your position. “Fuck,” you breathed out, trying to relax the hard rise and fall of your chest.
Once you were able to relax, you made your way to the shower. You knew you had to call Aaron, but you needed to be much more relaxed than you were right now to have that conversation. The sting from the hot water helped ground you, allowing you to clear your mind. After you cleaned yourself, you cleaned the toy and put everything in your nightstand drawer for future use.
Then, you reached for your cellphone. You quickly found Aaron’s personal number and hit the call button before you could overthink what you were doing. He picked up on the second ring. “Hotchner,” he said, probably out of habit. “Hello, Aaron,” you smiled. This is the conversation you’d had with him in a while that didn’t make you feel nervous. “Hello,” he echoed with your name. You didn’t know, but he was smirking on the other side of the phone. He’d been waiting for this call.
“You sent me a gift?” You asked. “I did. Have you received it?” He wasn’t sure what grew more, his smirk or his cock. “I have. I’ve opened it and took it for a test run as well.” The way you two were beating around the bush was a turn on, but the way he sounded so self-assured, as if he knew what you were going to say, had you clenching your thighs together.
“How did it perform?” Aaron questioned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table in front of him. This tightened the dress pants he was wearing against his hardened cock. “Very well,” You smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. I hope this is the end of all of your weird behavior.” Aaron chuckles. Just the sound of his laugh has you reaching your hand to squeeze the fat of your thighs.
“What weird behavior, Aaron?” You questioned, teasingly. This conversation is very different than any you’d had before, and it was turning you. You didn’t think it was possible with the strong orgasm you’d maybe an hour ago. But, Aaron was a special individual. He had that effect on you.
“You were avoiding me,” He scoffed. “I don’t know if I was. I think it was self-control,” You smiled, knowing you were baiting him. Without missing a beat, he took the bait, “And why did you need to practice self-control?”
Aaron leaned back in his chair, opting to press his hand against his cock instead of using the soft fabric to provide some kind of friction. He needed more, that much he knew.
“Because I was trying not to jump your bones, Aaron.” You breathed out. Your words had him squeezing his bulge, feeling like he could bust just from knowing you were attracted to him. “Fuck,” Aaron groaned into the phone. You giggled at his reaction, moving to press your hand against your core, again.
“Tell me about your toy,” He demanded, finally using the authoritarian tone that helped you get into this situation in the first time. “So you can touch yourself while I do?” You questioned, assuming he was in the same position as you. “Is that okay?” He questioned. “Of course it is, Aaron.” You promised, and used your permission as an excuse to unbutton his pants, and shove his hand under the waistband of his boxers.
As you started talking, he spread the precum, that’s been oozing from his pretty pink tip since he saw your contact name, along the length of his dick. “It was so good, Aaron. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah?” Aaron encouraged you to keep going as he started stroking his cock. “Yeah,” You whined out, “I wish you could’ve seen me. My legs were shaking and I was leaking so much.” You smirked as you heard him groan in to the phone. His strokes had quickened in length. All he could picture was you spread out on his bed, cumming around his cock.
“What did you think about while you came?” You were surprised he was able to get the question out, especially because he only stuttered once. You wished you could see the way he squeezed his eyes together as he tugged on his cock. “You, obviously. I was thinking about your lips and your hands. I finished before I could get to the good part. I wanted to picture you fucking me from behind, pressing my face into the mattress.”
You were going to continue describing your fantasy to him, but he cut you off with a “Fuck!” as he came down his hands.
The line was silent for a few minutes before you spoke, “Hey, Aaron?” He hummed out a “yeah?”, before you asked, “Do you want to come over?”
“Give me ten minutes,” He promised, “and have the toy out.”
Well, you couldn’t refuse that.
#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotch smut#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#criminal minds blurb#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds drabble#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds
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Finally getting help (prt 4)
Masterpost
The bats worked through the night, coordinating and researching everything that needed to be done. Distortion showed up on the camera which they assumed was Vlad trying to get in but he didn’t manage it. After he finished trying from multiple angels including somehow from directly above (well Zatana did say invisibility, intangibility, and flight were the minimal powers they should expect from creatures of the infinite realms.) He turned human again and spent a long time banging on their front door.
He tried to call the cops but commissioner Gordon called Bruce directly to get the full story then told Vlad it could be dealt with in the morning. Zatana was also coordinating people heading to Amity, a full on raid of the GIW, and the Fentons.
Batman and Superman were collecting all the information that the raid team was sending out and workshopping public statements they could sent out to the public and the government about the unacceptable things they had found and the steps the JL was taking to fix it. The government was not going to be happy they knew, with the JL ‘over-stepping’ into their business and actually getting the word out about the atrocities a branch of their government and their pet scientists had been planning. The JL needed to get out ahead of it before the narrative could be twisted against them.
It was first thing in the morning when they did a live broadcast from the watchtower with Batman, Superman, and Zatana telling the world about the parallel world existing harmlessly along side their own, and the way the government tried to exploit it. The atrocities committed under the name of the Anti-Ecto acts with the ignorance of the public as a cover.
It was at the same time that Constantine, Dick, and Cas were raiding the Fenton’s home. Of course they were armed, but so were the bats, and they were used to fighting people who were armed. It wasn’t a particularly hard fight.
A redhead was sitting wide eyed at the kitchen table. “Can’t we just have one normal day!” She suddenly snapped but she was glaring at her parents, standing up and slamming her hands on the table. “First you send Danny away with Vlad even though you KNOW they hate each other and it’s a school day and now this! What did you do to bring the heroes down on us!?”
“I don’t know Jazzybear!” Jack half whined as he was forced into power supressing cuffs to neutralize his minor super strength and sat down in the living room.
“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding, don’t worry sweetie,” Maddie added, both of them were dressed in jump suits which did not help their supervillain vibes.
“it’s not a mistake mate, you’ve been messing with shit you really shouldn’t. And that portal in your basement is a fucking beacon welcoming a war. You’ve gone unchecked for too god damn long, we’re taking over things now.” Constantine told them before stalking down into the basement with Tim on his heels, Batman would be joining them as soon as they were done their press conference.
Cas stayed to watch the parents and Dick approached Jazz gently. “Hey can I talk to you in private please? It’s about your brother,” He said gently and she stiffened immediately. Looking at him in a way that made him feel like she could see straight into his soul and froze him to the spot. After a moment though she just sighed and nodded, beckoning to him to follow her upstairs, to a room that was probably Danny’s not her own. She sat on his bed and grabbed a bear that had been sitting on the edge, waving for him to sit at the desk.
“So, what do you know?” She asked with a sigh.
“Well, last night Vlad took Danny to a Wayne Gala, one of Bruce’s daughter Cas is really good with body language and clocked that something was wrong so she and one of the other kids got him away from Vlad and out of the party. I guess he really needed some adult support because he broke down and told them a lot, about the Phantom thing, the ghosts and… something you’re not going to like. But first I want you to know he’s safe, Bruce Wayne is a licensed foster parent and he’s taking good care of Danny, you can come live with them too if you want.
“We’re going to deal with the ghosts and the GIW and everything else now, I can’t promise by the end of this you won’t need somewhere else to go. I have a feeling if Batman and the Martian family have anything to say about this your parents will end up in prison for their unethical experiments.”
“As long as Danny is okay,” Jazz said firmly. “I was only staying to take care of him anyway, just get me emancipated and a scholarship for Gotham U so I can study while still being close to him I’ll be fine. I’m almost 18 as it is.”
Dick nodded, she was a smart and driven girl, she knew what she wanted, he could respect that. “Now, the thing you won’t like…” he trailed off and took a deep breath. “Danny is pregnant.”
“What!?“ Jazz blanched, gaping at him for a long minute. “That can’t be right! I mean I knew he was trans but he’s usually only interested in girls, how would he even-“ She cut off her eyes widening. “It was Vlad wasn’t it?” She gritted out with an expression the promised excruciating violence.
“Yes,” Dick said shifting awkwardly in his chair.
“Right.” Jazz said and got up, coldly calm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” She grabbed a baseball bat from next to Danny’s bed that seemed to be glowing slightly then marched to the other side of the room, opened a cabinet and pulled out two odd looking guns. Before Dick could say much of anything she had vaulted out of the window and taking off down the street.
“Oh dear,” Dick muttered faintly before heading back downstairs. “Hey Cas can we turn on the news, some sort of local station?” He asked. Cas nodded and searched around for the remote, turning it on to find the channel was already on local news.
Vlad was already on there, talking about how it was awful Bruce Wayne had Kidnapped a local child Danial Fenton, and he could not be allowed to get away with this just because he was rich! But that didn’t last long, they watched for a few minutes before a blur of red hair and blue rushed past the camera.
“YOU TOUCHED MY BROTHER YOU CREEP!” Jazz said as she came out swinging and she must have quite the arm because her first swing sent him nearly flying off the stage. He scrambled to get up as she lunged at him again.
“Now Jasmine you’ve clearly been misinformed, I didn’t do anything-“ His muffled voice was cut off as she swung the bat again and he yelped as she hit him in the stomach.
“YOU GOT HIM PREGNANT! YOU DID THIS! YOU SHOULD BEHIND BARS NOT BEHIND A PODIUM YOU FROOTLOOP!” She shrieked as she swung again and this time he managed to dodge. The cameras following them as Jazz chased him down the street, the sound of his supplications and her shrieking fading out as they became more and more distant.
It took a frantic moment for the camera angle to switch to something else, maybe a drone, which was able to follow them down the street.
“You Don’t UNDERSTAND! I didn’t want to hurt him! I just wanted a perfect son! If he had just agreed to be my son none of this would have happened! When I knew it failed I told him to let them die!” Vlad yelled at her, though that did NOT seem to comfort Jazz at all. She had devolved into shrieking book titles like curses as she chased him with the bat and shot at him with the guns though her aim didn’t seem very good.
Well they had him admitting to it on camera now. As he watched a new actor joined the fray, a girl in a red jumpsuit holding a blaster.
“You did what to Danny!?” She demanded as she pointed the blaster at Vlad.
“Oh cheespuffs!” Vlad breathed, his eyes widening as Jazz trailed off letting who must be Red Huntress take over the chase as Vlad shouted about how he had made her! He had given her her weapons she couldn’t use them against him! Which did not seem to be stopping her.
The camera fuzzed out for just a second and then Valery was chasing a ghost with red eyes and a white outfit. Cas was laughing silently at the show and both of the Fenton parents seemed to be in shock. A few minutes later Jazz walked back in through the front door looking tired.
“Turn that off please,” she sighed as she put the bat down.
“Of course,” Cas agreed and picked up the remote again, turning off the tv.
“Vlad didn’t actually do that, did he Jazzy?” Jack asked softly, he sounded so hurt, as if he had any fucking right!
Jazz looked at him blankly. “How many times have we tried to warn you about him? How many times has Danny told you he didn’t feel safe with Vlad? But as usual you couldn’t see past your own desires. I’m going to go see if the trenchcoat guy needs any help getting into your files,” She sighed before vanishing downstairs.
Dick glanced at Cas, and then followed them, she would have no trouble watching the Fentons and staying quiet whereas Dick felt like he was about to explode. Batman joined them before long and between the three of them they shut the bulkheads on the portal and locked them, secured dangerous chemicals and devices, and downloaded everything they could. There were plenty of prototypes and blueprints, and stuff that could generously be called research.
It was obvious these people were geniuses but it was even more obvious that at some point they had become careless and obsessive. Half of the writing on the blueprints wasn’t legible, dangerous chemicals were not in proper containment, and the weapons were not locked up. Looking at all of this it wasn’t surprising that two of the people they had been involving in their research suffered exposure, it was a surprise more hadn’t. It was easy to tell when Bruce came down he was horrified, it was in the way he froze when he saw the lab, as if his brain was struggling to process just how irresponsible the Fenton parents had been.
“You must be Jazz, it’s nice to meet you. Danny speaks highly of you,” He finally rebooted to say when she waved at him.
“I love my little brother, I always did the best I could to keep him safe from… all this,” Jazz said gesturing at the lab with a sigh. “I wish it had done any good.”
“You did plenty of good,” Dick put in. “Trust me, to a kid having someone care about them can make all the difference.
“All those nights I patched him up after he came back from fighting ghosts. He healed fast but still. I can’t believe… he’s already been through so much and we knew Vlad was up to something! Ellie said she was our cousin but she looked just like him, I should have kept a closer eye on-” She cut off and shook her head. “He’s a good kid, of course if he couldn’t give the babies up, even if it would be better for them if he did. I hope he knows I’d support him either way, I hope he didn’t not tell me because he thought I’d be upset at Him.”
“I’m sure he didn’t,” Dick assured her gently. “Being a big sibling is hard, I know. But trust me you’re doing a great job, better than I did with my brothers,” he said, patting her shoulder. “You can ask him yourself later though. We have a lot to get done today to make sure he’s safe.”
She nodded stubbornly and doubled down on her work, directing them occasionally to where she knew they’d find more weapons or logs. She knew her way around the lab to a disturbing extent.
Bruce and Dick both got a notification from Agent A saying that after a substantial sleep in Danny had woken up and was having breakfast. He seemed worried about the family but he was taking it alright, especially since he knew they were busy people. It did motivate Dick to clear things up as soon as they could so that they could get back to Danny though. The last thing he needed was More stress!
They had plenty of evidence of the Fenton parents breaking the law to call the police and have them taken away which gave them all the time they needed to strip the house. They got everything they could and decided to leave Constantine at the house to watch the portal until they could figure out how to shut it down completely without causing any damage. It seemed unstable so they didn’t want to risk it just now, especially without Danny’s input because according to Jazz Danny had made genuine connections in the Infinite Realms.
They wrapped up this stage of the investigation before dinner after being up for about 36 hours. Of course they weren’t Done, there was still plenty to do investigating the government, how they’d gotten away with this and if they had any other nasty tricks up their sleeve. They’d have to manage any backlash from this unilateral move, and they’d have to figure out what to tell the public about Danny since Bruce would be fostering him. But all that could be done after having a family dinner with their new brother and a nap.
part 5
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#dc x dp#danny phantom#fanfiction#batman#bad parents jack and maddie#bamf Jazz#jasmine fenton#nightwing#dick grayson#cassandra cain#implied abuse tw#tw sa implied#Red Robin#superman#zatana#john constantine#danny is pregnant au#mama danny#vlad plasmius#vlad is a creep#trans!danny
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Just a Bite (part two)
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Danny slid into the taxi and closed the door, not even a second later did the man merge into traffic. Sneaking a glance at the driver, who somehow looked even worse than Danny did when he hadn't slept in four days, Danny slowly peeled off the sticky note from the seat.
glancing down, he found Clockwork's familiar handwriting. (which he would like to add, shouldn't be as familiar as it is, but then again, he shouldn't be having tea time with him either.)
Do what you think is right, only then does your future look bright.
well, alright then. does that mean Danny should jump out the moving car? because he didn't think walking into some poor rich dude's house and forcing his company on the family was the right thing to do. He thought it was the most convenient at the moment, sure, but not the right one.
flipping the note over, Danny found more writing;
Do not jump out of the car, you've already come this far. Patience will be a virtue. This is worth the persue. Do not worry, there is no hurry.
"what the hell, Clockwork?" Danny quietly hissed, glaring off to the side and out the window. "You become friends with Ghostwriter or something? and what do you mean don't worry? I'm literally running from the government. if nothing else, that's probably the one thing I need to worry about."
Another sticky note poped up, this time stuck to the back of the driver's seat. Glancing up, Danny waited a second for the driver to be distracted before reaching out and snatching the note.
the only thing on it was a very shitty smily face.
what the fuck.
"this isn't funny, clocky!" Danny hissed again, glancing up to make sure the driver hadn't heard him. "mom and dad literally have my ecto signature, they only need a single hint of which direction to go before it becomes all too easy to find me again."
closing his eyes, Danny took a deep breath.
holding it for a second, then exhaling. Alright. Fine, if Clockwork isn't worried or against this, then there's no reason not to do this. (well besides the obvious one; it's rude to walk into someone's house uninvited and whatnot.)
"fine, but I'm only staying long enough to snag some food and then I'm gone, got it?" Danny grumbled, glaring at his reflection in the window. he didn't receive another note, so he leaned back and watched as the city passed. Slowly buildings spread out, and green lawns turned into green fields.
staring down at the smiley face, Danny shook his head, carefully he pulled out his phone and removed the case. shoving the sticky note inside, Danny put the case back on and put his phone in his pocket. it was dead, so he couldn't do anything else with it so might as well make it useful. who knows when Danny might need that little bit of ectoplasm.
A few minutes later, the taxi slowed to a stop next to a black gate and rolled down the window. "taxi 'ere, Mr. Wayne already paid me."
"I see," a strongly British voice echoed from the box, "come in." The gate beeped a second later and swung open, allowing the taxi to drive through. Danny glanced around the front 'yard' as they approached the looming building. Nicely trimmed green grass fields as far as the eyes could see, trees lining where Danny had to assume were the property lines.
somehow it was completely different from Vlad's front yard, yet still, Danny could only describe them as the same. Green, full of flowers and sculpted bushes and outlandishly garish paveways for their rich front doors. If Danny squinted he could swear there were butterflies happily fluttering around the sides of the building.
and Danny uses the word building here because that was not a house.
No, no. That building wasn't even a mansion like Sam's house. nor was it a castle, like Vlad's. It was an old building of amalgamated eras and themes. Danny was so annoyed his phone was dead right now, Sam would have lost her mind if she could see what he was. Are those eighteenth-century dormers right next to a twentieth-century skylight???
you know what? Mr. Wayne deserves to have all of his food eaten right in front of him. Who in their right mind would allow their home to look like that? And in the twenty-first century no less!
The taxi pulled to a stop; and Danny, lost in his Sam-induced horror, automatically pushed the car door open, stumbled his way out, closed the door, and stopped at the bottom of the stairs to stare up at the roof.
Taxi man sniffed and then drove off, his jaw cracking yawn echoing in the back of Danny's mind.
"Master Tim?" the British voice from earlier echoed out from the now-opened door. Danny's gaze dropped from the roof and down to the older man now walking toward him. the man hadn't looked up from his newspaper, still reading a paragraph as he stopped in front of Danny.
blinking, Danny glanced down at the paper. he might as well see what had the man's attention so thoroughly. Another article about Damian Wayne and the schoolyard incident.
Danny snorted, he remembered reading about that one. Someone had thrown away their copy and Danny had been bored. let's just say Danny was thoroughly entertained. he even had thoughts about how the kid had managed to sneak in a small dagger with how tight the school's security claimed to be.
"it had to be his belt, I just know it," Danny whispered, leaning a little more to try and see what the new article revealed.
"yes, yes. young master Damian snuck his dagger to school, no need for you to tell me how for the seventh time. Now, then." the butler, folded the paper and put it in his back pocket, and then, again without looking, gently grabbed Danny's arm and guided him toward the door.
"master bruce has been worried about your lack of sleep, you will go to your room and take a nap or you will not be allowed to share in your siblings' desert at diner tonight." the British man sternly continued, closing the front door behind them.
Danny blinked at him, then at the large foyer in front of them. he was so glad Vlad hadn't splurged on aesthetics like this family obviously had. Was that a crystal chandelier?
The British man, Danny was going to call him Gramps now, guided Danny to the stairs and then promptly let him go so he could rush off to find the source of a loud crash, but not without telling Danny (master Tim) to get some rest.
Glancing up at the grand stairs (covered in an obscene amount of glitter) and finding a large golden framed painting of the ocean with a for sale sign next to it, Danny made up his mind.
Mr. Wayne was a multi-billionaire, who allowed his ancient family home to be butchered. If he wasn't going to respect his home when Danny didn't even have one anymore?
Then Danny was going to honor Sam; The person who had dragged him into this hellish life of interior and exterior design (as well as the half'a life coincidently). And how was he going to do this, you ask? well what else, then do the very thing she's dedicated her time to?
Eating the rich.
Or in this case; their food.
and well, what was a ghost supposed to do when welcomed into an ancient home with ungrateful residences? Not haunt them?
#danny phantom#danny fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#dc x dp#dpxdc#bruce wayne#jason#cass#damian#tim#just a bite Au#part two#misunderstandings#found family#angst#danny is a little shit
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Little black dress
Summary: After wearing a little black dress that gave nothing to the imagination, Daryl decides to drag you to the bathroom and remind you who you belong too.
A/N: It's been awhile y'all! Omfg, I have been so busy writing a book that started out as a passion project but now I'm like really into it lol. But this is filth, and honestly took me 6 days to write no mf joke. It didn't really read through it so it might be messy lol, anyways miss y'all!! enjoyyy <3 (also it is so fucking long, omfg...I'm used to writing long chapters in my book HKAHKSHFJA)
Warnings: Sexual harassment, public sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, BDSM, mentions of SA (kinda?), just men being gross tbh, dirty talk
Word count: 13.7K
It had been years since you actually had to worry about what you were wearing, even longer since you had to dress presentable. But here you were, caressing every inch of your body trying to decide if your short black dress was "presentable" or plain slutty. You were teetering towards plain slutty, the way it hugged your curves slightly... showed a bit too much of your scared-up legs, you're breast perking to attention as if they were made just for it.
You examined your body, wondering what everyone would say if you showed up to something so classy wearing this. The dress code was nothing special, "Halloween costumes and formal!" the flyer said. You had nothing that would be considered either of those, maybe you're old bloodied shirts from before the commonwealth... you could dress like a walker. However, you had to look approachable... as if you were a reporter of some sorts.
You sigh softly, brushing your hair from your face as you exited the bathroom. You don't even know why you cared so much, it's not like you actually wanted to go to this stupid ball. You were only going because you were helping Connie out with her story. You promised her that you would talk to some people there, and write down their opinions of the commonwealth. You told her you would look presentable and approachable, something you didn't look very often.
"Plain slutty" wasn't a bad thing, before the fall you would dress that way on a night out anyway... But you weren't who you were back then. You didn't want all the male or female attention, especially in a new town like this. They would whisper, they would gossip... no matter how pretty you looked in your cheap dress, you knew they would be merciless.
You walked to yours and Daryl's shared room, grabbing your bag you've had since the fall... it didn't match the outfit at all but you needed something to remind you who you actually were. You placed the bag on your shoulder, turning around only for your attention to be drawn to something shiny on your bed. Your husband's knife...
"At least Daryl will be there." You thought to yourself, biting your lip softly as you stared down at the knife. This new life has been a fairytale almost, almost like the entire apocalypse thing never actually happened... like you and Daryl were just a normal married couple with normal problems. It was so weird worrying about small things again, like what you were going to wear for this stupid masquerade ball.
You two had been "married" since you became a part of the commonwealth. It was strange, especially since everyone called you "Mrs. Dixon". You had been with Daryl for around 7 years, but you weren't married. However, when coming to the commonwealth there was an option for you two to be married "legally". You couldn't help but laugh when they brought it up, there was no government, and there was no "marriage" anymore. They were dead serious though, looking as if you were crazy when you laughed in their face. But you signed the papers basically stating yours and Daryl's "marriage"... so now you guys just are.
Daryl was a security guard at the ball, leaving much earlier than you to go do his job, so he had yet to see the way the dress showed off what was his. Suddenly your mind went another way, remembering the last time you wore a low-cut shirt or too short shorts... It was a decision that had you wobbling for 3 days, kiss bitten down to your calves and completely fucked. You blushed at the thought of it, hoping you could get through the night without Daryl scolding you for the too-short dress. Maybe you wanted that... maybe you wanted to tease him.
Daryl was completely comfortable in the relationship, he had no real problem with you showing your body off sometimes. But if anyone knew how a man could think, it would be Daryl. He knew the disgusting thoughts that would go through a man's mind when they saw a woman's upper leg... He knew just how they could spin that to make it sexually gratifying. It made him sick to his stomach knowing what men think when they see you... he fucks his anger out, hard and fast just like how those men think they can do to you... only he's the one doing it.
You shook the thought away from your head, making your way down the hallway of your dingy apartment. You realized how sad and depressing your apartment was, you made a mental note to get some art or posters to hang up... you needed to make this apartment into a home, or at least something ya'll feel safe coming home to. You passed by Judith and Rj's room, peeking in to make sure everything was in check... "in check" meant there was no one or thing hidden within it. The fall had done that to you, made you cautious, and made you the type of person to make sure each room was clear before leaving. Even though you personally went through every inch of the house trying to find RJ's hat just this morning... you just had to make sure there were no changes.
You finally were able to leave the apartment after making sure the door was locked 4 times. It was a short walk to the ball, about a 7-minute walk, but with heels on it was 15 minutes. You were never much of a heel walker before the fall, you envied women who could... but you never got that walk down. You would have killed to look so classy in heels, but you never got that kind of feminine gene. So you took it slow, walking with caution as you brought down your foot for each step. You looked stupid, maybe even drunk to some of the passersby.
You finally made it though, only 10 minutes late... but you found Connie and Kelly waiting for you at the entrance. You gave them a small smile, wobbling over to them. You were super close with Kelly and Connie, ever since they stepped foot in Alexandria... you guys were insufferable. So it didn't come as a surprise for Connie to come to you first when she needed help gathering "stories", which really meant gathering dirt about Pamela. You were more than happy to do it, it was something to get you out of the house and even landed you getting an invite to the most talked-about party of the year.
As you wobbled to the 2 women, it seemed as if you took them off guard for a second, completely unrecognizable as they didn't know who you were. It wasn't until you got closer that they saw who you were.
"Y/n?" Kelly asked, almost in disbelief that you could get all dolled up like that. "Jesus I could hardly recognize you with all that... boob."
You looked down at your figure, seeing just how different it was from your usual attire. It was strange being this... naked. You started to feel a bit uncomfortable, almost nauseous as you looked down at your heels. You weren't used to attention, you were but you weren't. You are not the ugliest person out there and you know that, people seemed to think quite the opposite which you didn't really agree with. You would catch people looking at your ass while walking past them or catching a feel of your breast while hiding from hoards.
You were no stranger to that attention, hell that's even how you and Daryl became what you were. Daryl couldn't keep his eyes off your hips and your lumps... that's the only attention you wanted though. The rest of them, it didn't matter to you. You could live without it, you were over wanting that attention just to validate yourself... that was in the past for you.
"what? Is it too much?" You asked, pulling your dress up just for it to almost flash your ass to the world, causing you to pull it back down just for your boobs to pop out again. There was no winning in the dress.
You searched both of the women's faces, hoping they would say all they needed to say. Kelly's eyes were focused on your face, probably noticing the cat-eye look you were trying to do... which used to be your specialty, but now you're out of practice. She was probably not used to seeing your lips so red as well, which that part is what you were most proud of simply because you made the mix yourself. You wondered what she was thinking, maybe you should run home and put on some normal clothes. Maybe this was a bad idea and you should have just stayed home. Connie brought a hand to your arm, bringing you back to reality.
"No! You look beautiful." She signed, making you feel a bit better. "Thank you for helping Y/n."
All of your worries slowly melted away just by this gesture, making you relax a bit. As said before, Connie was one of your best friends, you even learned sign language from her. Ever since you met her, she was always so gentle with you. No one really understood your insecurities or your panic attacks or the reason why you were so damn quiet all the time... but Connie did. She read you like a book, you hated it... but it was nice to know that someone could. Especially someone like Connie who would speak up for you if you needed her to. She knew you could never stand up for yourself.
You just gave her a small smile, nodding your head basically telling her that you were okay and you could do this. It was just for a night and you've taken out hordes, you've bashed a man's head in with his own leg bone before... you can take a night in a skimpy dress, you can take the attention it will give you. Plus Daryl was there, he would kill a man for touching you if he needed to and he has before. So you felt more than comfortable walking into that door and forcing stories out of men to get dirt on their leader.
"Yeah, well I'm your girl when you need to get information out of a man." You said, trying to lighten up the mood even if you were the one who needed some lightening up. "All you need is a small waist and huge knockers, Take notes ladies."
Connie and Kelly both let out laughs, boosting your confidence a bit. You smiled softly at their laughs, looking at the doors and seeing how crowded they were getting. Women in big dresses and men with fancy little tuxedos made their way into the double doors, Some were even wearing their own handmade Halloween costumes. They all were trying to get into the door, only to be met with the security who had to pat them down for weapons and whatnot. You once again felt a wave of relief, knowing you weren't the only ridiculous-looking one there. You suddenly were so thankful for it being Halloween. You sighed softly, putting your smile back on as you looked back at Kelly and Connie.
"We should probably get in before the line gets too long." You spoke, signing as you did so.
You all made your way to the double doors, Connie's hand on your arm as a way to make sure that you knew she was there with you. You appreciated it, this was a big crowd of actual people and you weren't used to that... especially with live people. You knew this night was going to suck, you were probably going to be a nervous wreck by the end of it. But at least there will be alcohol.
“But seriously, Y/N…” Kelly’s voice cut through your distraction, drawing you away from the parade of ridiculous-looking rich people. Her eyes were fixed on you, a playful suspicion lacing her tone. “You don’t strike me as the type to pull off this kind of glam… were you some kind of model or something?"
You just let out a soft laugh, walking up the stairs to the soft light illuminating the doors. You couldn't help but let your mind linger on your past. It wasn't something you were proud of that's for sure, you were a mess. You were freshly out of high school, going to college away from home so it was pretty much guaranteed that you would be doing something you would grow to regret. You would do it all... men, women, drugs, alcohol, partying until the crack ass of dawn.
It was a time in your life that was so confusing and being around people who were half your age, you weren't sure what was right and what was wrong. That phase lasted until you found Daryl, suddenly something inside you switched. He was nothing but soft and gentle with you, at least as soft and gentle as he could be. You meant something to him and that's when you realized that you weren't some drunk college girl that men and women could tear down for their own pleasure. You were someone, and that was enough.
There had been countless nights where Daryl had to carve that fact onto your skin, kiss your soft lips until you could say nothing but who you were, fuck it into you. You had lots to work on, Daryl did too... that's what made you two such a power couple. You worked on your shit together, made sure the other knew where they stood in life... who they were and who they weren't even though multiple untrue things have been drilled into your heads. You let the thought wander through your head before coming back to the moment.
"I am full of surprises." You joke back. You knew you could tell her what you really were back then, you're confused and you're hurt... but you left it at that.
-
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The night went too slow for your liking, not even halfway through the night you were at your limit with men and you were ready to go home. As you sat at the bar, sipping on some fruity drink one of many men had bought for you, you pulled out your notepad from your dirty bag. It was almost empty, only 3 stories collected simply because the men were too focused on the way your dress laid against your breast. You swore you talked to almost 20 men tonight and only 3 of them actually had the decency to keep their eyes to themselves and answer your questions.
Most of the men didn't want to hear you talk, they just wanted to undress you with their eyes. You gagged at the thought every single time, even more disgusted by how some of them thought it was their right to put their hands on you. You could still feel a hand on the small of your back or placed softly on your hip. This dress started to feel like not a good idea and you should have caved into your desire to change into something different. You will say, that at least a lot of the men bought you drinks... you could have only gotten through this night with "Sex on the Beach" and "Strawberry Daiquiri". You would much rather have whiskey if you were being honest, you had been hanging out with Daryl too much.
You started to read through the notes you wrote down, jotting down some keywords in their stories so Connie could rearrange them for her story against Pamela. You were almost halfway through the second story and your 3rd Strawberry Daiquiri when you felt a hand on the small of your back once more.
"My, my... ya here all by yourself sweetheart?" You heard a deep voice say, you could almost feel their breath on your neck.
You jumped at the sudden touching, yelping as you turned around in the spinny bar chair. You were ready to swing on the perpetrator, you were too frustrated and grossed out to have another man try to get into your pants tonight. You lifted your hand up, ready to slap the shit out of the man... only for your hand to fall back down as soon as it went up.
It was Daryl. His shit-eating grin spread on his face as he chuckled softly at your sudden burst of violence. Little does he know, he's not the only guy tonight to say those same words and touch the same spot just above your ass. You would probably tell him later, but for now, you kept it to yourself... you knew he'd be furious, probably dragging you to the bathroom and fucking you till you couldn't walk properly anymore. The more you think about it, the more you want that to happen.
You sighed softly, closing your eyes softly and leaning against the bar. You were so glad to see him though, you hadn't seen him all night. You tried looking but you were far too busy trying not to get groped by old men or beat up by their wives. You knew this night would have been 100% better if you found Daryl earlier, he would have really made the night somewhat fun or maybe at least been your bodyguard.
"Not alone... My deadbeat husband is somewhere around here." You joke, turning back around to face your notes.
You could hear Daryl chuckle behind you, he set himself between you and the empty chair next to him. He looked down at your notes and your 3 empty cups, he knew these were not your first and definitely not your last drinks of the night... then his eyes trailed down to your dress. You had told him you would be here and what you were doing here, but he didn't know just how you were going to show up. The dress was going to get you in trouble, especially with the way that it caused Daryl's pants to tighten.
His eyes drifted down your body, the sight of your almost bare breast made him almost choke on his own tongue. Daryl watched as you brought the last bit of drink from one of your cups, watching you slurp it down. He let out a soft cough, clearing his throat as if it would clear the thoughts of what those lips could do.
"Deadbeat, huh?" he started, watching you bring the cup back down to the bar counter. You licked your lips, getting every ounce of the alcohol from it. "Well then, your deadbeat husband should be ashamed of letting you go out in something like that."
He brought his hand up to touch the fabric of it softly, placing his hand on your hip and giving it a soft squeeze. You tried to stay up straight, even if the alcohol was creating a glorious feeling between your legs that made you feel like you could melt into his touch. Even the smallest of gestures from Daryl could have you at his feet, just the tiniest softest touch could create a fire deep within you. You were feeling bold tonight though, maybe it was just the 7 drinks you had but something within you burned with the need to be devoured.
You bit your lip softly, feeling the loose skin that resided there. You looked up to him, eyes full of lust. Daryl couldn't help but feel the same kind of fire erupts in the pits of his stomach. Your glazed-over eyes, the smell of the pure alcohol that he knew was affecting your ability to think, the way the black dress was still on you even though he wanted it off. You leaned in close to him, his hand still wrapped around your hip softly.
"if only he was here to put me in my place." You spoke, words flowing off your tongue like honey.
Daryl let out a soft breath, his clothes suddenly feeling so constricting against his skin. He never knew all he needed to do was get a couple of fruity drinks in your system for you to be so... feral. It made all the blood in his body rush straight to his cock, making the head of it rub up against his jeans so uncomfortably. You were everything but a perfect angel... you knew how to talk dirty, you knew how to get Daryl's cock up and ready to pound into the first hole he could get to. But something about the way your tits looked in your dress and every single man wanting to tear you apart with their bare teeth... and yet you only wanted Daryl to fuck you in the ways only these men can dream.
Daryl looked around, being sure of his surroundings before making any stupid decision he knew he would make with you. No one was paying any attention to him... some of the men you talked to earlier were still trying to catch a peak, hoping that maybe your thighs would spread wide enough so they could see just in between them. So they could store it in their minds and use it for spank material when they need a little push. That made Daryl's breath get heavy, hands shaking slightly on your hip as you leaned closer into him... he could smell a hint of your perfume and it was giving him a slight high.
Daryl looked back down at you, seeing your soft stare... watching your eyes move down his body and then back up to his eyes. Daryl placed a hand on your cheek, rubbing it softly as he debated on dragging you somewhere more private. His lips ached, his cock already leaking with need... if anything could make daryl dixon be reckless, it was you. He almost gave into you, almost engulfed your lips with his, and made you whimper... made you his in front of everyone. However, something caught his eye... his abandoned post.
He was supposed to be guarding the door, making sure no one else came in, and making sure everyone was on their best behavior. Rosita was there, on one side of the door as she too watched the dance floor. He had a job to do, a very important one that would have you both moving up in life if he did it right. He shouldn't even have left in the first place, but something about the way your thighs looked from afar... he found himself stalking towards you just to get a better look at them. He let out a soft smile, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before he retracted away from you.
"Ya look beautiful sweetheart..." He said simply, giving your body one last glance before stepping away from you completely. He could feel your energy fall slightly as you groaned at the loss of warmth... your dress did nothing to cover you up, so his warmth was appreciated. "I gotta go do my job, I just wanted to see you before I got too busy."
You wanted to pout, you wanted to kick your feet and scream like a child... that's how drunk you were, you would beg for him if he wanted you to. You didn't find that fair that Daryl could get you going, put his hands on you, and warm you up just to pull away like it was nothing. You were too drunk, too cock starved, too horny to let him leave you like this. Your legs were wobbling already, you're cunt throbbed and every time you would move your legs it would create irritating friction that you wish were from his fingers. You sighed softly, not done with this just yet...
"Well that's too bad..." You said, hopping down from the bar stool. Your dress came up a little too high, showing just below your ass. You pulled it down, which once again caused your breasts to pop out... but this time you wanted them too. You watched as his eyes focused on them. "I'm wearing my best panties... I was really hoping someone could help me put them to use."
You sighed dramatically, grabbing your bag and throwing it over your shoulder. Daryl gulped back a comeback because there was nothing good that was going to come out of his mouth. He was torn between two nasty names.... some of the most degrading names he could think of. All he wanted to do was slam you against the bar counter, tell you how fucking slutty and how much of a fucking whore you were... 2 things he knew you loved, he knew it made you weak in your knees just thinking about it. But he had to keep it cool, y'all were in public and he would like to keep those names between the two of you.
You stepped up to him, looking down at his obvious erection... you smirked to yourself knowing just by your words you did that. You looked back up to his eyes, reaching up to adjust the buttons on his shirt and patting his shirt down. You could tell just by his eyes what he was planning on doing to you, you could tell you were in trouble. You leaned up to his ear, standing on your tiptoes just to make sure he was the only one to hear.
"I will be in the men's bathroom if you need me..." You whispered, pecking his cheek with your lips just as he did to you. You swear you could see his eyes twitch, his anger rising within him as you teased him softly. You gave him a soft smile. "I hope to see you soon, Mr. Dixon."
You said, teasing him even further and not giving him any time to even react to your words before you walked away. You could feel some eyes on you as you walked away, except they weren't Daryls... they were the countless men that weren't Daryl, their eyes boring into your skin but you paid no attention... they weren't your target audience right now.
You were able to slip into the men's bathroom without anyone noticing, which was tricky since every man and women's eyes were on you the entirety of the night. You knew you would get some attention but the amount you got was overwhelming... you forget sometimes that a lot of these people have been in the commonwealth since the fall, most never experiencing the horrors just outside of their walls. So when a woman who is covered in scars speaks so confidently to them, it is intriguing. Not to mention the way your body curves, how it dips and stands out so perfectly. Not a lot of women in the commonwealth have that kind of "fighting for your life" kind of body type.
You open the door to the men's bathroom, slipping in before anyone notices you even did. You choose the men's bathroom simply because you knew it would be easier for Daryl to slip into and away from his post for a bit, allowing him some time to fuck the shit out of you. Luckily the bathroom was empty but you didn't spend too much time making sure since you knew someone could walk in at any minute, so you entered one of the stalls and locked it.
The bathroom was one of those nice ones you see in fancy restaurants, the stalls were almost like little rooms that only held a toilet and a trash can. The walls surrounding the toilet were painted a cream color and went all the way to the ceiling down to the floor. These were the types of bathrooms that were perfect for fucking if you're being honest, I mean the privacy... it was almost as if they were made for horny couples who need to let some steam off.
You sat on the toilet, imagining all the possibilities and positions you could find yourself in the small confinement of the 3 walls and door. Your eyes locked themselves on the door which was the only "stall-like" thing in the small area. There was a large gap between the door and the floor, making it so you were able to see the shoes of people who walked by. Luckily you could see none, but the anticipation of seeing those black boots with the mix-match shoe laces... Jesus, you hoped he would come, you didn't even give him time to answer.
In this moment, the anticipation and the hope you don't get caught brought you back to when you and Daryl started seeing each other. while on runs or even around the small time you and the group were on the road... Daryl would get sexually frustrated from watching you, his cock rock hard and eventually he couldn't take it anymore. He would grab your shoulder, bringing his mouth as close to your ear as he could... growling into it that he needed you, ordering you to go to a secluded area and "wait like a good girl" for him. You were so needy for him that you did exactly that, sometimes waiting an hour before he showed up and fucked you into the dirty ground.
That was around the time when your relationship was kept hidden, Daryl's choice. He told you it was because of the 15-year age gap between the two of you, he was worried about the things that would be said about the two of you. It was strange for a 37-year-old man to be romantically involved with a 22-year-old. But deep down you didn't believe his words, you subconsciously knew it was because he didn't want to get close to you. He had this thing with trust, so it came natural for him not to want to trust you at first... he was okay with just fucking you and leaving you limp on the forest floor. However, somehow along the way... he fell so deeply and utterly in love with you, that now he feels ashamed if he has to hide you.
Suddenly, you were pulled from your thoughts when the bathroom door opened. A slight tingle made its way through your body and it wasn't the good kind. You placed your feet on the toilet along with your body, hoping the person didn't see your high heels, and called security to come to escort the woman in the men's bathroom out of the ball... that would be embarrassing. You heard the person's heavy footsteps, not able to see their shoes because of the walls of the small bathroom covering your view. You held your breath, trying to keep yourself quiet as the person made their way to the stalls.
You listened closely to the steps, hearing them walk closer and closer to your stall. Questions filled your mind, did someone see me come in here? Is it one of the men who now thinks this is his chance? Am I completely fucked and was this a bad idea? Fortunately, it didn't take too long for your questions to be answered because when the two heavy-duty work boots with the mix-match shoe laces appeared between the gap of the floor... your body relaxed slightly.
You chuckled softly at your worry, realizing how fucked the fall actually left you. You were expecting Daryl yet your mind went to the worst that could happen... Jesus, hopefully, the commonwealth will ease your paranoia.
Knock
knock
knock
Those three knocks were too familiar to you. It was the knock you and Daryl used when hunting or when you holed up in a random cabin for the night... it was just a way for you two to say "Hey it's me. You're safe.". You smiled softly, standing from the toilet and wasting no time in opening the stall door. The stall door opened to reveal your angry-looking husband, he did not look too happy about the fact he had to fuck some sense into you while he had to do actually important things, like make a living for you two. You couldn't help but laugh softly at his face, how angry he looked... you were feeling the buzz of the alcohol throughout your body and it was hitting hard. You leaned yourself against the door frame, making sure your hips stood out as you did so.
"Mr. Dixon!" You exclaimed, almost as if you weren't waiting like a little dog would for its owner... You placed a hand on your hip, head laying against the door frame. "I didn't expect to see..."
You couldn't even get your words out before Daryl pushed you into the stall, shutting and locking the door behind him. He pushed you against the stall door, attacking your neck roughly. The warmth spread across your body, your body going limp for only a second before you threw your head back onto the stall door you were pushed against.
"Shut up..." He whispered into your neck, biting and sucking at your soft spots. He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you in place as he worked his mouth on your neck.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, trying your best to stay up straight as he basically touched you in all the ways you craved. It was fast, very fast as he basically speed ran trying to make you as wet as he possibly could get you. You knew this was going to happen, you basically begged for it to happen... but that doesn't make you any less surprised by his sudden touch. He licked a strip up your neck, biting your ear lobe softly before going back to leaving down your neck... you knew this was his way of marking you up, making sure the mark would show so pretty on your neck in your black dress, scaring away the men's attention.
His kisses led down to your chest, leaving bite marks here and there as he did so. You could come undone from his abuse on your neck, your body arching into him as you tried so desperately to quiet your soft moans. Daryl pushed you further into the stall door before pulling your dress down, exposing your breast to him as he softly kissed down your body. He stopped his kisses, taking a moment to take in your squirming figure and how red you had gotten from just kissing. He leaned down, taking your breast in both of his hands, and squeezed them together before sucking on your already hardened nipples. It all happened so fast, making you not only drunk but also now high off sudden pleasure. Your hands went to his hair, pulling it softly as his soft sucking on your breast sent small zaps of pleasure straight to your clit.
He went back and forth between the right and the left, squeezing one while he sucked and licked the other. Your world was spinning, not sure if it was the 7 strawberry daiquiri or if it was the way his mouth felt on your tits. You could feel yourself getting so close to the edge, embarrassingly close... he barely even touched you and you were almost coming undone in your panties. You gave his hair a particular rough pull, trying to remove his mouth from your nipple... you were too close to the edge, not wanting to cum now... You didn't want to give Daryl an even bigger head than he already has when it came to making you feel good.
"Jesus... Daryl, I'm too drunk for the foreplay, just fuck me." You whispered out, your words shakey as you shivered from the cold air brushing against your now slobbered-up tits.
Daryl detached himself from you, your hands still in his hair as he did so. He tried to hide the smile from you but trust and believe the way you were begging made his own high come to him. He couldn't tell which one of you was drunk, and he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol this entire night. You leaned against the stall door, the lock from the door digging into your back. You squirm underneath his gaze, feeling his hands make their way back to your waist. Your tits are still standing to attention, red and puffy from his kisses.
You breathed heavily, looking into his lust-filled eyes as he brought his face closer to yours. You could feel his breath fan across your face, the smell of your shared toothpaste bringing memories of the nights you would have together in your small apartment... All the nights spent bent over the sink as he rammed his cock into you, praying Judith and rj were asleep, or even the days where you two just had to be with each other. So you filled the bath, lit some candles, and spent hours making out with each other... no fucking, no dry humping, no cumming onto each other. Just you two, taking in each other's presence and exchanging saliva.
"You beggin' me?" He whispered, lips hovering over yours as he spoke. You debated on reaching up, touching his lips with yours... speeding this entire thing up. But you couldn't deny you loved a long drawn-out fucking session in a fancy bathroom.
"No..." You teased, smiling up at him as you brought your face even closer. Your eyes make their rounds from his lip back to his eyes. "Simply asking for a favor."
You had a way of getting underneath Daryl's skin in the most delicious ways, with your innocent-looking eyes and your silky smooth voice. He knew better though, he knew you were far from innocent. Not only have you done things, murderous things that to this day you will never be able to repent from... but also sexual things that have the angels crying. You have allowed Daryl to fuck you on the dirty floor of an abandoned cabin while your people were only mere inches away from you. You have fucked him while covered in blood, even going as far as to cover yourself with more blood because it turned you on so much. You have asked to be held at gunpoint while you sucked his cock, asked to ride the handle of his knife, asked to be slapped in the face until your nose bleeds.
You liked pain, you loved every ounce of it and it was heartwarming that you trusted Daryl enough to be so open with these things... but it was disgusting how you did these disgusting things with such innocent eyes. However, Daryl was a sucker, because he did everything you asked him to with a smile on his face. He never knew he held such a disgusting pervert deep down inside of him until he came the hardest he ever had while fucking you by a trapped walker. Although, with age and the further you got into the relationship, you both settled down a bit. You two were so fucked for each other, you were basically cumming at the sounds or each other's names.
"Real cute... Just asking for a favor huh?" Daryl mocked, his hand running down to the top of your cunt... stopping so he could watch your squirm. He had other plans than to give you what you wanted, you guys were already fucking in a public restroom while hundreds of people were outside.. might as well go the full mile right? "Well then, you're gonna have to ask a lot better than that sweetheart. Knees."
He didn't have to say anything more than that before you were dropping to your knees. Daryl could cum from just knowing you would do anything for him in a heartbeat, especially sucking his cock when he wanted you to. You were never the type to turn down sucking his cock, you loved watching him come undone on your tongue... you even thought he looked so much more pretty at the angle.
You stared up at him with big eyes, your lips red from you biting them and your tits hanging from your dress. Daryl hummed in contentment, reaching down to wrap a hand through your hair as you looked up at him innocently. He ran a soft hand through at first, making sure you knew you were safe with him... making sure you were okay with what was happening. You nodded softly, a way for you to say "I am okay with this". He shot you a soft smile, running a hand once more through your hair to get it out of your face.
It started off so soft, it always started off so soft because you brought out this softness in Daryl... a softness he had never known he had until he met you. But it always ended up rough, because that is how Daryl loves and that is how you love it. Daryl suddenly gripped your hair, a tight grip that had you gasping and wincing. You groaned softly, chuckling softly at his sudden outburst... you knew you were about to get destroyed and in such a pretty dress.
"Want you to suck my cock..." he said, keeping hold of your hair but reaching down to the top of his pants. He unbuttoned them, almost ripping his belt off as he did so. "Gonna cum all over your pretty little face, then maybe I'll fuck that hole of yours."
You watched up at his hands as he unzipped them, pulling them down slightly so only his cock could come out. The sight of it almost had your mouth watering, not able to think coherent thoughts as you watched it twitch slightly. It was rock hard, the tip already covered in precum and flush red as it desperately craved friction. You knew your teasing left him desperate, and needy for your touch… but it’s as if you hadn’t touched him for days which was not true. You could not keep your hands to yourself around Daryl, so fucking was an everyday thing.
Daryl watched your eyes go wide at the sight of it, his grip on your hair tightened which pulled your attention away from his cock and back to his eyes. He couldn’t help but pump himself a few times, more precum dripping from the tip as he did so. You smirked at him which told him you weren’t done with your teasing.
“Is that any way to speak to your wife?” You asked, your words making his cock twitch even more. "Bet none of those men out there would ever talk to me like that..."
As said before, you had this way of getting under Daryl’s skin… and a little part of you enjoyed the way it affected him. It caused this fire within him that you were able to see from the outside, it was a small change in his demeanor, a small twitch of his eye that was probably only noticed by you. It was that small change that had you slightly terrified but completely and utterly exhilarated. That is the main purpose you teased him the way you do, just to see that small fire build up inside of him until he couldn't take it anymore and he just snapped. You were able to get him into so many dirty positions with that fire, so many nasty things just because of your teasing words.
Daryl's hands shook slightly, a slight hint of jealousy coursing through his blood. He gripped your hair harder, pulling some of it out, as he tried to stop his hand from shaking so much. He pulled you closer to his cock, causing a soft yelp to escape from you. His cock was now laying on your cheek, twitching softly.
"Well, those men don't know you like I do..." He said, pumping his cock one last time before setting his hand on the base of it. "They don't know my wife is a horny sex fiend who can't shut her fucking mouth... open."
You didn't have to be told twice, your mouth opening, and Daryl didn't give you any notice or any warning before he shoved his cock almost completely into your mouth. You held back a gag, feeling the head of his cock in the back of your throat already. Daryl kept your head in place, watching you fight with the urge to gag and recoil back from his cock. He can not deny how much pleasure it gave him to see you in pain, obviously the good kind of pain. The consensual pain that you allowed him to give you and enjoyed every single bit of it.
Daryl stayed still for mere seconds, allowing you to get used to the feeling of a cock in your mouth. You eventually allowed your throat to relax, looking up at him with your watery eyes as you went further down his cock. You wrapped your lips around him, staring him right in the eye as you took his entire cock in your mouth... until your nose was buried into his happy trail. Daryl almost collapsed, seeing the bulge in your throat... he could cum down your throat at this moment.
"good girl... good fucking girl." He said, trying his best to keep you like that for a couple more seconds so he could burn this image in his brain for later use.
He knew that you would be giving him that shit-eating grin that you usually give him when you get a big ego... but you couldn't since his cock was down your throat and you were loving every second of it. Once Daryl stored every single detail of how angelic you looked right now, he pulled your head back with your hair. As he pulled back your head, his slobbered-up cock was revealed... this would be another thing he would store in his mind for later.
Daryl didn't keep your head off his cock for long before he slammed your head back down on his cock, once again forcing his cock down your throat and causing you to want to gag again. You couldn't get used to it this time, you weren't able to stop yourself from gagging before Daryl pulled your head off his cock once more but like he did the last 2 times... he forced your head down on his cock once again. You couldn't help but feel your cunt flutter away as your throat was burning slightly. It was a delicious kind of burn, the taste of his cock making its way down your throat.
before you could even almost gag for a 3rd time, Daryl pulled your head away and then slammed it back down. Now his movements were quick, his cock massaging your throat as you just kept your mouth open and your lips wrapped around his cock. You dug your knees into the bathroom floor, your hand holding onto his thighs as you allowed him to use you like a literal sex toy. You felt so degraded, so disgusting... but you wanted more, you needed more. The feeling of someone walking in excited you even more, knowing that any of those men from earlier can walk in just to relieve themselves and be met with the sounds of gagging... gagging from the woman that they wished would do the same from them.
The thought of that alone, the look on their face as they realized what the gags actually were. The cold sweat that runs through their bodies, the red tint that spreads across their cheeks, the inevitable boner that pops up simply because they imagined how you looked while doing such a disgusting thing. You didn't mind someone walking in and that alone left a sense of shame within your stomach, you begged for it really. You knew it could lead to Daryl losing his job, knowing how they would look down on him because he left the partygoers he was supposed to be protecting so he could get a blowjob from his wife in the bathroom. But you would risk it all. The sudden burst of shame and excitement and complete lust caused you to bob your head along with Daryl's hands. Setting your hands on his ass so you could force him into your throat yourself.
"God... fuck, such a fucking whore huh?" Daryl moaned, keeping his hand entwined with your hair. He looked down at you, watching you work his cock in and out of your throat like it was nothing... your slobber dripping from every crevice of your mouth and onto your already spit-covered tits. "Ya like my cock in your mouth, the only thing you're good for huh?"
The degradation of it only made you speed up your movement, the sounds of your choking and gagging filling the air completely. You kept your eyes on Daryl, watching as he finally pulled his attention away from you and lost himself to the feeling. He threw his head back, eyes fluttering closed as he tried to steady his breathing. You looked up at him like he was some kind of god and in this moment... he was to you. You would have licked the floor he walked on if he asked you, in this moment and in any. Daryl was the closest thing to god you have ever believed in, because how can someone so fucking perfect be real? He must have been made from everything good in the world, like candy or fresh laundry.
You got too ahead of yourself, feeling Daryl pull your head back roughly as your rhythm becomes too sporadic, too messy. Daryl pulled your head completely off his cock, a string of salvia was now the only thing connecting you and him now. Your throat burned, it ached as you coughed softly... trying to catch your breath as you waited for what he was going to do next. When Daryl was in these moods when the fire sparked within him, he was unpredictable and that made your liquids leak from your cunt.
Daryl had a plan to destroy you completely and he was going to go through with it. You weren't going to be able to talk to another man without thinking of what Daryl would do if he saw you... you won't be able to speak for the next few days to come, or walk, or get out of bed. He was going to completely fuck you. Daryl took the base of his cock once again, placing his cock back on your cheek... watching it cover your face in your own saliva. You chuckled softly, closing your eyes as his cock drenched your face with spit. That soft chuckle made Daryl's blood heat up again, he didn't want you to laugh... he wanted you to beg for his mercy, cry so hard that you could barely speak, he wanted you to be a ruined puddle on the floor.
"Sit on your butt, head against the wall." He demanded, pulling your hair back and giving your face a harsh slap as a way to tell you that you would regret it if you didn't.
You did what you were told, sitting flat down on the floor and laying your head back on the stall wall. Daryl moved closer to the wall, so one of his hands was resting on the stall. There was only a small gap between the wall and Daryl, you between the both of them. Daryl's cock slid across your face once again, his hand pumping it softly as he made it so you were between his legs.
"Tap on my thigh if you need me to stop." He said softly, running a hand through your hair comfortingly. He was planning to destroy you, but if you genuinely needed him to stop he would in a heartbeat. "Okay?"
You nodded, repeating back a little "okay" before giving him a soft smile. You adjusted yourself so you were closer to his cock, sitting so you were face to-face with it. You were so ready... your mouth begged for it.
"Alright, sweetheart." He reached down, pulling your mouth closer to his cock as he bent his knees slightly. "All you gotta do is keep your pretty little mouth open for me alright?"
You nodded, opening your mouth once more. Daryl smiles, watching you so eagerly waiting for him. He let you catch your breath for a few more seconds, not wanting to completely overwhelm you all at once. But before you knew it, Daryl's cock was back in your mouth... his thrusts started slow. He allowed you to get adjusted to his cock once more, choking slightly as it hit the very back of your throat.
He didn’t wait too long though, after a few soft thrusts he didn’t go so nice on you. His thrusts became rough and fast, his cock slipping in and out of your throat, making your head almost bang into the stall every single time. As his cock assaulted your throat, hand wrapped in your hair as he used it as a way to keep your head back so he could fuck your throat until it ached, he imagined the way the men looked at you.
He saw you from afar all night long, watching you closely as you collected your stories. You pulled your dress down throughout the night, your tits looked heavenly under the softly yellow light. Then you would pull your dress up, revealing skin inches away from your lace black underwear. It was almost as if you were playing with him, making him a hot mess at his post. Then there were the men, all looking everywhere but your eyes... trailing down to the necklace he had found for you, but not staying there very long before looking directly at your tits. They had no shame, they slowly undressed you with their eyes and you knew it.
His thrust became even faster, your nails digging into his thighs and your eyes watered... Your choking and gagging only egged him on more as he violently banged your head into the wall. You loved every second of his abuse, throat throbbing and raw but so was your cunt. You were clenching around nothing, rubbing your thighs together to get some kind of friction. You would even go as far as to say... you were just as close as Daryl. You could cum from the sight of him alone, that's all you needed for your cunt to feel satisfied.
You could sense his orgasm nearing, his moans started to intertwine with your gagging and choking. He had to keep his hand on the wall to balance himself as his legs started to shake violently, thrust getting messy as you started to lick the vein of his cock so softly with what control you had, his hand gripping your hair roughly. If his cock wasn't in your mouth right now, fucking your throat till it bled... you would be begging him to cum down your throat, wanting to taste his salty seed as he came undone from fucking your face.
"So fucking close baby... so close." He groaned softly, trying to keep his voice below a whisper but the feeling of your velvet throat made him lose control of his own voice. "gonna fucking cum."
You hollow your cheeks, closing your lips around his cock and running your tongue down his shaft. You could feel his cock twitch on your tongue, basically begging to cum. Daryl continued his fast, rough thrust... the knot in his stomach was thrust away from bursting and you did everything in your power to send him over the edge, you craved to see the way his face contorted into pleasure as he came... how his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth opening into a slight O shape, his entire body shaking softly.
Suddenly, just before his breaking point, Daryl pulled his cock out of your mouth. You couldn't help but whine softly at this action, your throat needing to feel his warm cum slide down it. Daryl took his cock in his hand, pumping it at the same pace he was fucking your throat. It only took him a good 3 or 4 pumps before hot strings of cum shot out of his cock, landing directly on you. He milked his cock, watching as it spurted on your cheeks, your nose, almost into your eye but you closed them before it could.
"Fuck..." He let out, huffing as he leaned against the wall... his cock still in his hand as it twitched, almost overstimulated now.
You stayed underneath him, your cunt throbbing in your panties. You were sticky with Daryl's cum, with your own spit, and your sweat. You felt disgusting, you felt so disgusting that not even 10 showers could wash away this feeling... this degrading, embarrassed feeling. But somehow, your cunt still screamed for Daryl's abuse. You looked up at Daryl, his cum now dripping from your face as you did so. He looked so tired, so out of it as his orgasm still sent soft shocks down to his cock. You've noticed as he's gotten older that he has had to take more time to recover from his orgasms, it really takes it out of him.
You remembered when you first started fucking him, Daryl wore you out before he could even think about stopping. After every single nut, he would be hard all over again. It was heaven, but also physically draining. Now in your older age, you would much rather 2 or 3 long drawn-out rounds more than multiple quick fucks. Your and Daryl sexual relationship has come a long way, from quick fucks to long passionate, and kind of perverted sex. It was kind of sweet to you in a way, how you both experimented with each other and picked and chose what you liked and what you didn't. It was something no one in the past would have done for you, it was why you "married" Daryl in the first place.
"So beautiful..." Daryl said, pulling you out of your thoughts. He was caressing your face, wiping away his own cum while he did so.
You blushed softly, leaning into his hand... kissing the palm of it softly. Daryl was always so nice afterward, so gentle and sweet. Nothing like he used to be, so distant and cold... not even helping to clean you up. However, as sweet as this moment was... in a weird and fucked up way, your cunt still throbbed. You still needed your cunt stuffed, still needed it fucked raw to match your sore throat. So you dug deep into your chest, trying to find your voice and force out of your beaten voice box.
"Are you up for round 2 or are you gonna need some time to recover?" You teased, your voice raspy and almost barely there as your throat was quite literally broken.
Daryl couldn't help but chuckle, placing his head on the hand that was keeping him upright. Daryl was never the type of person to leave you all high and dry, even if you truly deserved it. He would always give you what you wanted, only he would give it to you over and over and over again until you begged him to stop. He loved watching you cum as much as you loved to cum, so he couldn't deny you the very thing he held dear to him.
Daryl finally was able to get his legs to stop tingling as much, pushing himself off of the stall wall. He now stood inches away from you, just needing to see you in your entirety. You were drenched in his cum, legs sprawled out and shaking on the dirty bathroom floor, your tits hanging from your dress, your hair matted to your forehead and neck... you already looked so destroyed, but you wanted more? He could never understand the pleasure you got out of being destroyed, he loved it too... but being in such degrading positions? Maybe that's why he was the one giving it to you.
He reached his hand out for you to grab it. You did it in a heartbeat, struggling to stand up but balancing on his arm as you did so. He took you softly into his arms, holding you up with one arm as he wiped more of his cum off your face. He slowly brought his knee up to your cunt, you gasped softly as it made contact with your puffy clit. You wanted to move your cunt up and down it, feeling the delicious friction it would give off... but you knew how much of a dick Daryl could be and how easily he would tease you, denying you of his actual cock.
"Old man huh?" He chuckled, still holding you close to his chest. He could feel your heartbeat in not only your chest but also your cunt that was throbbing against his knee. "I'll show you an old man."
He suddenly turned you around, shoving you into the stall door so your face was flat on it and your ass was pushed out. You yelped as he did so, feeling his hands pull your panties down... he wasn't going to take it slow with you this time, he wasn't going to ease you onto him and let you adjust yourself. No, he was going to continue to teach his lesson... make sure it was carved into your brain that what's his, is his, and if you allow another man to look at you like a hungry bear would to his prey... you'll know what happens.
Daryl pumps himself in his fist a couple of times, getting his cock hard again before lining it up to your cunt. You grabbed onto anything that you could, preparing yourself for the devious stretch that you begged for the entire time he fucked your throat. Daryl collected the slick from your dripping cunt onto his cock, making it nice and wet... as if he needed to, your own spit was still covering it. He teased your hole, putting the tip of his cock inside before dragging it down once again. He was trying to tease you, make you feel an ounce of what he felt the entire night with you prancing around in the slutty dress that was now bunched up around your waist. You subconsciously bucked back on him, trying to fit his cock inside your needy cunt... but he held your hips in place, gripping them so painfully that you could feel it throughout your entire body.
He kept this motion up for only seconds before he got tired of it, he got tired of your whines and your pleas, deciding to give you what you craved. In one swift movement, he slammed his cock inside of your wet folds, bottoming out in one thrust as he did so. This action made you moan loudly, almost screaming when you felt the sudden stretch of your cunt around his cock. Daryl revealed this noise, like it was his favorite song... making you scream from pleasure, making you feel so good you didn't care that hundreds of people were just outside of this door... some of those people being the family you have gathered along the fall.
Daryl didn't waste a second, doing the same thing to your cunt that he did with your throat... he pulled his cock all the way out before slamming it back in. You could feel his cock in your stomach, moving around your organs as if it was meant to be in there. You don't think you will ever get used to the size of his cock, because each time you both fucked you would always have to get used to the shape of him all over again... and each time it took you off guard. His cock was merciless, nails digging into your hips, cock buried so perfectly into your cunt... it was pure light.
You were so lost in pleasure, your moans just dripping from your mouth and Daryl allowed it... he was far too lost in his own pleasure to mind. You hoped that the loud music playing just outside would cover the noise and since no one had come running in to make sure you weren't being murdered yet, you felt it was doing a good job of covering up the noise. Daryl kept up his harsh thrust, one hand coming up to your hair to pull your head back so he could attack your neck. His teeth sunk into your skin, causing your body to go almost limp... balancing on Daryl's cock was the only thing keeping you upright.
He watched your eyes roll back into your head, face flush red as he pushed himself further into you as if there was any room for him to do so. He reached his hand that was placed on your hip, sliding it down to between your thighs... rubbing your bundle of nerves slowly. He knew you were close, he knew you could have gotten off his cock down your throat alone.... so he knew you wouldn't be able to hold on very long from his cock being deep inside you. He touched, licked, fucked every single spot of your that he knew would send you off the edge, he was proving pretty successful with it too.
But suddenly, all his movements stopped and so did the entire world for a second. While you were lost in your pleasure, the bathroom door was slammed open and voices now replaced your moans... engulfing the bathroom with their noise. You were too lost in your own pleasure to notice, your moans still slipping through your mouth and your hips trying to once again buck back into his. Daryl however was now in his "security/guard" mode now, reaching up with his hand to slap it around your mouth... pulling you flush to his chest. You gasped into his hand at the sudden action, eyes widening as you felt his cock dig deeper into you. Even though that was not Daryl's intention, it still caused his cock to twitch inside of you.
"Shhh." He cooed, his mouth hovering over your ear.
But how could you be quiet when Daryl's cock was so deep inside of you, how could you be quiet with how close his body was to yours, how could you be quiet when you could smell his toothpaste and the college he wore. but you obeyed, knowing that if you did then maybe you would get a mind-blowing orgasm out of it. You could hear two sets of footsteps, they sounded heavy... almost like 2 men. IT would make sense, if you were in the men's bathroom... You couldn't hear what they were talking about, you could hear them but you couldn't understand them with Daryl's cock grazing your g-stop.
Daryl peaked through the small gap between the wall and the door, watching the men through it. You could tell by the way his eyes relaxed slightly that the men had no idea you two were in here, that they were lost in their own conversation to pay any attention to the stall you two had been hidden behind. Daryl took a step back, pulling you along with him... his movement caused his cock to almost slip out of you, but him pulling you close to his made it once again thrust inside of you. You squirmed against him, his free hand keeping you still.
"Did you see that girl...uhh she had that black dress on? She was going around interviewing people about how they like the commonwealth?" One of the men said, you could hear him unzip his pants as he did so... soon after the trickling of urine could be heard.
"Dixons girl? yeah, I saw her alright." The other man said, his voice almost laced with lust.
You froze at the mention of you, more specifically how you were labeled "Dixon's girl". You had a name and you even gave it to them, fucking assholes. If it were any other time, you would correct them with a fist through the teeth and a knee to the groin... but right now, you were too occupied getting stuffed by Daryl's cock. Your senses were completely filled with Daryl, your cunt full of him... it made it hard to think any coherent thought, especially with how his cock pulsed inside of you, rubbing you from the inside softly.
"Dixons girl huh?" The other man chuckled, finishing up his business as he did so. You could feel Daryl's ego grow a bit, especially with how his hips started to move softly into yours. He got such a big head when it came to you, knowing you were his. "So what's the deal with them? I mean, she's like 20 years younger than that old fuck. Does she have daddy issues or does she just like me older?"
You would have corrected them once again, telling them that you just liked Daryl. You didn't go after him because he was older or because you lacked a father... They would probably have done the same thing with what Daryl did with his cock, how it turned you into a madwoman every time he pulled it out. You huffed into Daryl's hand, which caused him to chuckle silently. This was entertaining, to say the least, this entire situation was.
"With the way she was dressed tonight, I think maybe she's just a whore." The man said, causing your blood to go cold. "Maybe Dixon was just lucky enough to be the first guy she fucked."
You loved being degraded, you loved being called a whore, you loved being told you are nothing but a hole for a man to cum in... but only when Daryl said it. It was like when it came out of another man's mouth, it sounded so wrong and so degrading but in a not good way. Daryl had a way with his words that made it sound like pure honey, like candy dripped from his lips and you couldn't wait to get a taste. Daryl felt this too as if your genuine degradation actually affected him... like he could feel it flowing through his veins too. Daryl thrust his cock into you, trying to make you forget what they were saying, making you present with him instead of them.
"She seems like the type. " The man replied, the sink running as he said. Daryl once again thrust his cock into you, the knot in your stomach coming back. "Those outsider girls, man, I hear they let you do some weird shit to them."
One more sharp thrust from Daryl, his hand pressing harder on your mouth so they wouldn't hear your moans. He let his free hand roam down to your clit once more, rubbing it in small tight circles. To him, Daryl thought that maybe if you were too focused on your nearing orgasm, you wouldn't let the words of disgusting men get to you... he was slightly right because after that last sentence, their words turned to just background noise. You could feel yourself giving in the pleasure, you threw your head back on his shoulder, your back arching as you pressed your ass more into him so the gaps between your bodies were nonexistent.
"Damn, I might have to pay a visit to Dixons girl huh?" The man chuckled, the sound of zipping pants and water filled the air. "You think she'd take us both at the same time?"
Daryl's thrust started out as a way to comfort you in a way, but now with the venomous words these men were letting out... he was doing it out of anger, and jealousy as they talked so grossly about his wife. His thrusts were deep, and rough as he imagined what he would do to these men when he got done with you. How he'd cut off every single finger of one man's hand as the other watched. How he'd slit the throat of the man who even asked that stupid question in the first place, basking in the way his blood sprayed on him.
You took your hand and reached back to set your hands on Daryl's hips as he dug his cock so violently into your cunt. You couldn't take it anymore, your juices had dripped down your legs, now soaking the floor as you let Daryl abuse your pussy. You gave his hip a soft squeeze, a way to tell him "Keep fucking me, I'm gonna cum." He didn't slow his movement, instead, he sped up. Hacking away at the knot that was about to explode inside of your stomach.
"If she's fucking that old redneck... shit, she should be glad we would even consider fucking her." The man spit out, heavy footsteps leading to the door as he spoke.
And that was it, those words caused Daryl to thrust so harshly into you that it broke the knot inside of you. You almost screamed into Daryl's hand, your body tensing completely, your toes curling, your vision going white as he didn't stop his abuse. He fucked and rubbed you through the earth-shattering, mind-blowing, entire life-changing orgasm. Your cunt spasmed around his cock, liquids puddling up on the floor as you came around his cock. His fingers that were playing with your clit while you came were now covered in your slick.
"I call fucking her tits first." The other man said, another pair of footsteps followed the first ones you heard... both of the men now leaving the bathroom. "You can have him..."
The door shut, silencing the men's words which were now just jumbled as you came on Daryl's cock. You heard the door click shut, suddenly being shoved against the door once again in just seconds. You were still having the aftershocks of your orgasm while Daryl thrust into you, shoving your head further into the stall door. You moaned loudly, you're an overstimulated pussy trying to reject his cock but also craving it, his hand no longer silencing your moans. He shoved his cock inside of you, over and over again until the door was shaking along with his thrust.
You could feel his anger, feel the way that he tensed... the way that those men's words got more to him than they did to you. You could tell with every thrust of his hips that he was furious. He thrust into you only a couple more times before he groaned loudly, almost growling as he felt his own orgasm consume his body.
"Gonna cum in your fucking pussy..." He spit out, his grip on your hip tightening now and you could cum again just by his anger. "Gonna fill you up so fucking good baby... so good baby."
His words filled your brain, your body still so exhausted from the orgasm. You let him use you though, let him use your body so he could fuck his anger out. It was only mere seconds before you could feel his thick, warm cum paint your walls. When he said he was going to fill you up, he fucking meant it. He gave your pussy a few more good thrusts before he drained himself completely, his body allowing his veins to fill with pleasure. There's something about anger that makes orgasms feel so much better, feel so much more intense... and Daryl was a very angry man.
Daryl's cock softened inside of you, throbbing against your walls. He kept himself in you though, allowing you both to recover from the pleasure that filled you both. Daryl leaned down, kissing your back softly as he came down from his high, rubbing your hips to ease the bruises he left on them. This night was not supposed to go like this, you two were not supposed to fuck in the bathroom of this new town you had just been welcomed into. This was behavior that you two would do in your earlier years when you were both reckless, both so horny your hands never left each other. It is comforting, how things never really change.
"You okay?" Daryl asked, brushing your hair from your face... your face still pressed against the door and still very much covered in his cum.
You nodded softly, not able to speak well because Daryl's cock really took a number on your throat. Daryl smiled softly, slipping his cock out of you... watching his cum leak out of you. It was rare for Daryl to cum in you, he was always so adamant about cumming anywhere but inside simply because....he didn't want to knock you up, kids weren't supposed to grow up in this world. But something about tonight, he wasn't worried about you getting pregnant. A part of him actually welcomed it.
Daryl stepped back from you, pulling his pants up and buttoning them back up. You straighten yourself up, legs shaking as you attempt to pull your dress down. You weren't sure if you should bring up what happened, about the men who said those things but the words left a tension between you two. The words did hurt, you did feel massively sexualized by those men and you didn't like the feeling of it. But you thought maybe you could ignore it, it will go away on its own. Daryl noticed your struggle to put your dress back on, feeling a slight twinge of sympathy.
"Let me help..." He said, reaching over to help fix your dress. Covering up your body, his hands grazing your soft skin as he did so. He too was having that debate in his head, if you two should talk about it. "You know, those men. They're dead, you know that?"
It was almost like he heard your thoughts, could read your mind, and laid out what you needed to hear. This entire night you had been sexualized, but you didn't mind it... it was just attention to you. But hearing it while Daryl was there, feeling the way it affected him as well. It made you feel so gross like maybe all you were was actually just a piece of meat to some men. You could never imagine a life without Daryl now, how respectful he was even with his degradation.
Daryl was 2 steps ahead though, he already planned on making their life a living hell. It was one thing to gawk at you in front of your face, imagining what you tasted like or how you would look butt naked on top of them... all the while you just wanted to collect stories. But it was another thing to write you up as some lust-filled woman who would give herself any man who would ask her nicely. You weren't what they made you out to be, but then again they made every woman who liked sex like they did out to be some kind of whore. You liked sex, you liked it rough... but so did they, so why were you any different?
"Don't get yourself in trouble because of that asshole diary." You said although you urged him not to... a part of you really wanted him to. Men like them deserved to be put in their place, they deserved to be made to feel just how they made women feel. Plus you wouldn't mind Daryl coming home all bloody...
"Who said I'll get caught..." He smiled, inching closer to you, and laid a soft kiss on your cheek, wrapping an arm around your waist while he did so. Daryl was good at his craft, he knew how to be careful."So, I want you to go home... Take a nice bath, make some tea or something.... maybe get some rest. And I'll be home before you know it."
He kissed your forehead, brushing your hair from your face. It did sound so nice to just give in to sleep, especially with being a nervous wreck all night and then being fucked so hard in a small bathroom. But the feeling of Daryl going to hunt down these men, staying up till the early ends of the night punishing them for what they said... something inside of you flips, causing a small knot in your stomach to form wants more. You reached up on your tiptoes, bringing Daryl into a passionate, long kiss. This hinted to Daryl what kind of mood his actions had put you in, he pulled away when he realized... he'd already been away from his post for long enough, he couldn't go another round with you.
He chuckled softly, stepping away from you... he slid his jacket off and placed it on your small body. You were completely engulfed by it, it covered your body more than the black dress did, and you couldn't help but feel so safe in it.
"I'll leave the bathroom first, you wait a couple of minutes and sneak out. There should be a backdoor in the kitchen you can slip out of, but then I want you to go straight home okay?" He said, pulling the jacket closer to your body before setting another kiss to your lips. "And clean your face off before leaving, it's already bad enough i fucked you in here... don't need them to see the evidence of it."
You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, zipping up the jacket as you did so. You did completely forget about the cum that still dripped from your face, you were covered in so many liquids that his cum was completely forgotten by you. You nodded your head, watching him unlock the stall door and slip out of it. You poked your head from it, making sure the coast was clear before you also slipped out of it. You looked in the mirror, jesus... you were a complete mess. You watched as he peeked out of the bathroom door, making sure he could slip out successfully.
"Round three when you get home..." You called out, making him whip his head around to look at you. He scoffed, shaking his head softly.
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hi dear author! how are you?
I have a request for Spencer where reader has a head injury and passes out and Spencer's reaction to it and the aftermath. I found your fic around 15 mins ago and I'm in love with them<3
Thank you!!
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: I’m sensing a pattern with the request writing I’m doing—most of them deal with a head injury of some sort but I am having fun trying to make it different the the earlier works. No further editing was done but I hope you enjoy it! Main masterlist
Bundle of Nerves. // Spencer Reid
The bright and playful disposition of your kindergarten students was one of things you looked forward to every Monday. How each student would go up to you to chatter about how their weekend went—family went to the park or to the library or to the beach—and how in return, they’ll ask if you also enjoyed the weekend as much as they did.
But something seemed off today, you really couldn’t specify where it all started. Maybe it was you falling back to sleep after your alarm went off, or maybe it was you missing breakfast, or maybe it was just all of the above.
Either way, everything was going sideways and it was just about to get worse. The lights seemed darker, the children’s voices were distorted, and the room was starting to sway. Feeling the need to sit down, you were only able to take a couple of steps to your desk before promptly fainting—smacking your forehead on the floor and the children screaming for help.
———
Spencer wasn’t one to wish for a case to land on JJ’s desk but at 1:30pm on a Monday, he found himself twiddling his thumbs and calculating his rocket launches using his expansive brain capacity—all paper filings done and submitted early. He swiveled to face Morgan who was caught red handed about to throw a paper clip in his direction.
“Hey Kid,” he cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalantly. “You done with your paperwork?”
“Yeah, now I’m thinking of how to improve my rocket magic. Hey do you think if I add more—”
The vibration of his phone on the table interrupted his sentence. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in the unregistered number. Curious but definitely wary, he pressed ‘accept’.
“Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Who is this?”
A female voice answered. “Hi Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m calling from Virginia State Hospital. Y/N had you listed down as her emergency contact. She was admitted—”
The remaining information all sounded muffled. His breathing was spiking up and all he could hear now was the rapid staccato beating of his heart. He couldn’t think straight. Is this what unknowing family members of victims feel when they receive a distress call? Like the rug was pulled under their feet? He couldn’t comprehend what to do, how to—
“Dr. Reid, are you still there?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes—yes, I’ll be there soon.”
Before the voice could say another word, he ended the call, was out of his desk, and up the steps to his unit chief’s office, SSA Aaron Hotchner.
“Reid, what is it?” the stern BAU leader clocking in the distress painted on the genius’ face.
“I-it’s Y/N. She was admitted at hospital and—”
He nodded. “Go, Reid. I’ll explain to the team and HR.”
With a quick ‘thank you’, he ducked out of the bullpen to the elevator, grateful that he opted to drive to Quantico today rather than take his usual train route.
Maybe he should have borrowed the government owned SUV instead, he thought to himself when he turned to the main road and saw the congestion. Hotch would have understood, he just wasn’t sure how to explain that in paperwork but this counted as an emergency, right? It felt like a life or death situation to him—for him and for you.
When he exited the bottleneck traffic, Spencer wanted to floor the gas. His foot itched to stomp on the accelerator and worry about the fines later. But the idea of getting caught, being pulled over, and wasting more precious seconds away from your side was enough for him to second guess it—that and his tight white knuckle grip on the steering wheel.
He should have asked for more information over the phone call but the second his mind registered the words, it went to overdrive and out of the window—his emotions were running high and clouding every logical thought possible. He had an IQ of 187 but all he could think of was you. You, the love of his life. You, his fiancee, lying down on a hospital bed, alone and unconscious. Any man, no matter how smart they are, would react the same way he did when it involves a loved one.
He parked his car at the first slot he could find in the hospital parking lot and ran straight to the reception.
“I’m looking for Y/N. She was admitted a while ago. I-I’m her fiancee.” Spencer hurriedly introduced himself.
The nurse nodded once, stating your floor and room number. Without so much as an acknowledgement, he ran to the nearest elevator and willed it to open any faster.
Spencer felt like he ran a marathon by the time he found your room and seeing you there, lying on your bed—conscious, thank god—took a little weight off his chest. He breathed out your name in relief. “What happened? Did you—did you hit your head?”
Your hand gingerly touched the bandage on your forehead. “I think so. I started to feel faint so I was walking back to my chair. I must have hit my head on my way down—”
He took your hands into his, kissing it. “You had me so worried. Did the doctor say anything? Diagnosis? Cause? Treatment?”
“No. When I came to, only a nurse was here. She left to page the doctor but it’s okay—I feel fine now.”
Spencer opened his mouth, no doubt to chide you about minimizing your pain and health, but then the doctor walked in with a clipboard on hand.
“Hi, I’m Doctor Smith. How are we feeling?”
“She said she was feeling faint before she hit her head. Does she have a concussion? Why did she feel faint—was it stress? Hypoglycemia? Labyrinthitis? Vertebrobasilar insufficiency?” Spencer rattled off.
“Well, your husband sure knows medical terminology. Are you a Doctor too?” the physician asked.
Spencer’s brows met in between, finding the whole interaction off-putting. Here he was about to have a nervous breakdown and your doctor was as calm as a cucumber. “Fiancee, actually, and yes Doctor, 3 Phds not MD.”
“Impressive, and to answer your questions, Doc. None of the above.”
His eyes widened. “Then it could be hypo—”
Dr. Smith smiled and shook his head. “It’s not that either.” He reached into his clipboard, removing a prescription pad, and quickly jotting down medicine. “Here you go. She’ll need to take a capsule a day and I suggest a healthy balanced meal, exercise, and plenty of bed rest.”
Spencer’s eyes widened when he realized what the chicken scratch handwriting said.
“What—what is it?” You asked in worry as Spencer seemed to have glitched.
The doctor grinned at you.“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”
Silence.
“I-I’m what?!”
The doctor chuckled. “You’re 3 weeks along so you’re still in the early stages. Your body is still adjusting—the fainting spell was caused by change in your hormones and low blood pressure. I suggest you schedule an appointment with your OB/GYN as soon as possible and get ample rest—” he looked at the couple once more before exiting the room. “—congratulations, again.”
The tears that started to gather in your eyes seemed to bring Spencer back to life. “Oh love, are those—are those happy tears or—?”
You nodded. “Happy tears, Spence. I can’t believe it!”
He reached out to hug you to his chest. “I love you, Y/N. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world.”
You giggled. “I guess we have to tell your team about the baby genius on board, huh?”
He laughed, remembering how Emily once asked him if he ever planned on having one and here he was about to become a father.
You gasp, causing him to lean back and look at you with worry—did he hug you too tight? Did you feel—
“I’m not going to fit in my wedding dress by then! Penny will have a fit! She had this vision and—”
He leaned down to interrupt your ramblings.
“I’m sure she’ll forgive you, especially if you're turning her into an aunt.”
You smiled, peering through your eyelashes. “Y’know we might have to find a new apartment soon. Just imagining how much shopping Penny would do for our baby genius even before he or she is born is making me shudder.”
He laughed. “Me too, love. Me too.”
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#gw fics#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#pau’s request inbox
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Just a cute, fluffy fic from Wayne's pov
💞
"Hey Wayne, how do you know you're in love?" Eddie asks him as they eat dinner that night. Wayne nearly choked on the pasta he was eating but covered himself by gulping down some coffee.
Shit, he needs something a little stronger for this, like when he had the talk with Eddie a few years ago, that was awkward as hell for the both of them.
Fortunately for Wayne's heart, Eddie kept his love life a secret. There were a couple people that weren't serious, but that's as far as Wayne knew. Eddie asking about love, though? This was new.
"I haven't got time for falling in love, Uncle Wayne, I have way too much shit to worry about, and it's a bunch of bullshit anyway", were the words of Eddie just a year ago.
Wayne knew his nephew craved love but at the same time viewed it cynically, so whoever this person was must be special to change his views.
"Why'd you ask boy?" Eddie's cheeks turn pink and he shrugs, gulps down the warm coffee and almost scalds his tongue. "Ahh shit!" his eyes widen when there's a knock on the trailer door, and Wayne gets up to answer it; he knows who it is even before he answers.
You're standing on the step, a D&D book tucked under your arm, smiling at Wayne with just a little bit of shyness this time which was an improvement.
You hurry inside and tell Eddie you'll set the books up in his room.
For six months, you'd been visiting the new trailer (all paid for by the government, so no questions were asked about the old one), and it took a while for you to relax around him; now that you did, it was like your second home and Wayne was used to you being here.
You had been visiting on your own, but sometimes with Harrington and Dustin, Wayne doesn't know what went on during Spring Break, just that Eddie was injured during the earthquake, and you were there for him every step of the way.
His wounds had healed but left scars, and sometimes Eddie woke up screaming after horrendous nightmares, not when you were around, though. When you were around it helped Eddie, helped the both of you work towards healing.
The fact that both of you were obviously falling head over heels in love with each other, is something that Wayne has kept quiet about, waiting until Eddie approached him about it.
Today was the day.
Wayne smiles gruffly. "This about your girl?" he nods to you as you head into Eddie's room and Eddie's cheeks darken even more.
"Yeah, yeah it is. She's amazing, isn't she, Wayne?" he enthuses; I just wanted to ask. How do you know it's love? I mean shit, I uh look at her, and she feels like home, and I don't want to be with anyone else ever; I feel like I can be myself around her, and she'd never judge me; she makes me tongue-tied and my heart races and she's so distracting and I... I'm in love with her" he sighs content then looks up at Wayne panicked.
"Shit, I don't even know if she feels the same?" Wayne sighs, he adores his nephew, but the boy is completely oblivious at times.
"Son, she looks at you like you hung the moon so why don't you quit horsing around and ask her out" Eddie looks like all of his Christmases have come at once.
"You really think so?" He asks hopefully and his eyes light up when Wayne nods. "Maybe I will talk to her then" Wayne then proceeds to watch his nephew practically melt at the sight of you; that was something that so very rarely happened with Eddie, so he was completely smitten.
Here's hoping that he did pluck up the courage to talk to you.
❤️
It's late when Wayne comes home from work; the TV is on, so Eddie is still up, and Wayne would bet that you're here too.
Wayne sees the two of you giggling together, holding hands and exchanging kisses, there's a big soppy smile on Eddie's face and he only has eyes for you.
About damn time. Also, Hopper owes him a glass of his best scotch so he will make sure to collect that too.
💞
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson#eddie fluff
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imagine moving to beacon hills around season one. right around the same time, allison moves in. it's nice not being the only new girl, so you two quickly become friends.
imagine meeting lydia for the first time. it happens in your fourth class of the day, you two are assigned to be partners for the semester. albeit, at first she isn't thrilled, but once she gives you a chance, everything changes. she's found someone like-minded for once in this small town. someone as intelligent, yet fashionable as her. she thinks for a quick second, if she liked girls, she would love you.
imagine seeing stiles for the first time. seeing- not meeting, because the boy can only gawk at you from across the hall. it's definitely weird and a little unsettling at first, but it's nice to be admired? right?
imagine finally talking to the poor boy for the first time. it had to be you who spoke first, his brain going a mile a minute. it happens a few days later, when lab partners are assigned. stiles almost faints when he hears your names paired together. scott has to be the one to push him out of his seat. it feels kind of how you imagine bella felt when edward and her first meet, awkward and stiff. does he not like you? maybe that's why he was always staring, it wasn't in fantasy, but with disgust. not being one to dwell on whether someone likes you or not, you push through, introducing yourself with a raised out hand. stiles is quick to latch on, spewing out his full government name. then once he catches the confusion on your face, he tells you that you could call him stiles.
imagine going to lydias house party, that very night. running into all your newfound friends, dancing and drinking a little. then seeing your shy new lab partner chasing after his drunk friend. but also allison chasing after the drunk friend. whats his name again? shawn? smith? stiles? no- wait stiles is yours. scott! its scott. but by the time you have that revelation, the three are already outside. so you watch as allison gets into some random car and stiles stands are dumbfounded. scott has seemingly disappeared, and there's an unease building in your chest. who was that guy with allison? stiles, sensing someone behind him, turns around to face the one person he doesn't want to see at the moment. not because he doesn't like you, but because he is pretty sure his best friend is a freaking werewolf.
imagine asking him if he knew who allison got in the car with, and getting an unsavory response. great, your new friend might get murdered and tossed into the woods tonight. the alcohol is catching up to you rather quickly, and the worry is only increasing. stiles starts to make a move to his car, eager to see if scott went back home when you wrap a hand around his upper arm. it's not harsh or anything, so he doesn't flinch, but he is confused. you ask him if he will give you a ride to allisons, because you guys live close together and you want to make sure she gets home safe. stiles immediately says yes, but tells you he has to make a quick stop at scotts. something about possible alcohol poisoning or something, which makes your head spin. oh fuck, what if you have that?
imagine being told to wait in the car as stiles goes into scotts house. the boy is very persistent as you try to help him out. he offers to get you fries from the local drive-through if you just please stay in the car. that gets you to comply, so you're left staring out the window. it doesn't take long for stiles to come running out of the house and speeding down the street. you don't even have to ask because he tells you that allison went home with this guy derek who is very very evil. you never get those fries. but the good news is that allison is alive!
imagine stiles walking you to your door because you and allison really do live right next to each other. you guys don't say much, the adrenaline rush already crashing. you guys are about to part ways when you stop him and ask for his number. he seems like a nice guy and you joke about how you'll harass him until he gets you those fries. his heart does cartwheels as you exchange digits, and makes a mental note to kill scott. in a perfect world, you two would have managed to spend the whole night together, but scotts newfound supernatural abilities are already infiltrating stiles life.
imagine waking up the next morning with a pounding headache and a text from stiles telling you to get dressed cause he is coming over in fifteen minutes. it has you smiling like a child and it feels so goddamn good. maybe this kid will be cooler than you imagined. he pulls into your driveway and you open the door to see him with iced vanilla lattes and Mcdonald's french fries. this guy might just be an angel. you let him in and for the rest of the morning, you guys eat and talk about nothing while lounging around your room.
#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinksi imagine#x reader#reader insert#stiles stilinski x reader#teen wolf#teen wolf rewrite#teen wolf x reader#stiles stilinksi fanfiction#teen wolf stiles#stiles x reader#teen wolf fanfiction#teen wolf fic#stiles stilinski x you#stiles stilinski blurb
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You're too sweet for a monster like me
Summary : Leon's drowning his pain and suffering with whiskey. But you might be his true salvation.
Pairing : Vendetta Leon! × Fem Reader (A little bit of pre vendetta)
Tags : Established relationship, self deprecating talk (Leon does with himself), mostly angst with little comfort. (But it's there) and alcoholism
A/N: Update on why I disappeared for a while. It's because things got rocky with my academics and I recently broke up :( But not to worry I'm not gonna let a little heartbreak set me back.
And for this fic I'm thinking it to be a little pre vendetta Leon, like the incidents that led to him having depression in Vendetta.
It's gonna a be short fic, may or may not write a part 2 about this. Let me know!
WC: 1.6K
Sound of whiskey getting poured in a glass fills the emptiness of the living room he was in. After all this was all he could do, the only thing he had control in his poor pathetic life.
One mission after another after another. Leon was getting tired after endless fights with the B.O.Ws, corrupt governments in countless countries that were ‘speculated’ to have a new damned virus or a bioweapon war waiting to happen.
And every damn time he was supposed to deal with it, he was supposed to do the government’s dirty work for them, he was supposed to fight every goddamned ugly creature created by the worst of mankind, he had to carry out every gut wrenching decision that government instructed him to do, everytime he was the last man standing and he was never gonna get out of this cycle.
Yes, that's right. He was just a little puppet for the government that was supposed to fight B.O.Ws for them. Someone who was blackmailed into this life and do their bidding, by of course the government.
At first, he tried to take it positively and thought of how many people he could save like he always wanted to and at such a large scale. Something he was extremely passionate about since he was a kid… saving people's lives, protecting them. That's why he wanted to be a cop and now that he was a government ‘special’ agent he would be able to do more.
But he definitely didn't expect the destruction those missions would cause on his own self too, taking every piece of his humanity, every last hope he seemed to have, gone & extinguished in the flames of every bioweapon war he was called in. He definitely didn't expect and could never have anticipated what he was getting thrown into.
When will this cycle end?
A question he thought every second of his life but never had the answer. Forced to play hero each time and with no real win, fighting was like choosing between the lesser of two evils.
He was just a weapon, just a pawn that the government moved each time when they wanted to achieve something. And why would a pawn's life matter in the grand scheme of things? A pawn was created just to be shot down. And that's what he was.
While he was lost in thoughts and his whiskey all alone. He almost missed the soft voice whispering his name, such a gentle voice calling out to him. Feeling a soft hand on his back, trying to get his attention. He turned back to see who it was… and there was the reason. You.
Soft eyes looking at him with a sympathetic smile asking him how he was or that he had eaten anything today?
Leon slowly shook his head to get out of the fog clouding his brain and blinked a few times to focus on you.
Leon's words slurred as he spoke “What?”
“I asked how are you doing today?” Your soft words of concern clearing his brain fog better, making him aware of his surroundings and himself.
Leon blinks once more and looks down at his whiskey and then back at you. “... Better than yesterday.” A lie, he was the same as yesterday.
He could see her lips twitch in a small smile as she sat down besides him on the couch and said. “You're a terrible liar when drunk…”
Leon managed a soft huff at her reply. It almost weirded him out that you could see through him, but he guessed that's what happens when you have someone who cares for you. Leon looked away, sighing deeply and replied. “I'm just tired…”
Leon heard a soft sigh, feeling the soft couch dip a bit as she shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder and gently held his hand. “Leon… I'm always here for you, you know that right? I may not be able to give solid advice to you, but I'm a good listener.”
You could feel him relax under your touch a bit and saw him look your way from the corner of his way, still not facing you. “...I know.”
“So, you know I'm also worried about you?”
Leon winces at that, the last thing he wanted was you to worry about his pathetic self. You already have done so much for him just staying by his side through all this. Hell, you were an angel just for putting up with him and actually loving him. You weren't supposed to be worried about him and you definitely weren't supposed to fall in love with him.
Leon clears his throat and shifts a little bit away from you although he didn't let go of your hand and says. “I…It's nothing.”
You couldn't help but frown at how closed off he was being for the last few days, you understand that his last mission was rough although he never went into details about his missions with you. And you knew he needed space to process all of it but you hated the way he was ‘processing’ his loss. Drinking, lost in thoughts and closing off when you tried to get close. It was hard for both of you.
You slowly shifted towards him again, getting close to him once again. Gently taking the whiskey glass from his hands and moving it away from him. “Leon…”
He looks back at you and he looks…lost. A raging storm of emotions present in those pretty blue eyes of his that you loved so much. “I know it's hard Leon and I'm happy to give you space to think but the way you're doing it… is making me worried.”
You took a deep breath and continued. “Is there anything I can do to help? I can't… see you like this.”
He closes his eyes and deeply sighs once more, years of weariness and defeat visible on his face. He shakes his head and whispers. “You're not supposed to worry about me…”
Leon feels soft hands cup his face gently as she replies. “Can't help it. It sorta happens when you care.”
Leon opens his eyes to see you staring at him with a soft warm smile, your faces close. He presses his forehead against yours for a while trying to calm his anxious thoughts. He then pulls you closer by your waist, pulling you in a hug and burying his face in your neck and taking a deep breath. Your scent filling his senses and offering some peace that he needed to ground himself.
He often wondered what he did to deserve you? Did God or whatever the power universe has, take pity on him and decide to gift him an angel? You were always so sweet, so gentle with him, loving, caring, understanding. You were his sunshine and he couldn't look away. All he could do was soak up in the warmth that you always seemed to radiate everywhere you stepped.
You were perfect and it scared the hell out of him.
He was scared that one day you will see the monster he actually was. That one day you will wake up and see him for who he was, the things he had to do to make a living and think what a disgusting monster he was, what he truly was… not some ‘Hero’ or the ‘Golden boy’, just some monster and a weapon crafted to perfection to destroy the undead. And he hopes that day never comes.
He continues to hug you tightly to himself, his face buried in your neck as he takes deep breaths to calm himself. He then softly whispered. “You smell…like daffodils.”
The sudden comment made you chuckle a bit and kissed his cheek, hugging him tightly. “Yeah, I bought a new perfume today, didn't think you would notice. Does it smell bad?”
“... No, it smells good. It suits you.” And sighed deeply. He then whispered. “You're too sweet for me. Don't know what you see in me.”
You turned to face him and kissed his cheek. “don't say that… I see that you're a hard working, resilient person who keeps going even when the odds are stacked up against him. Whatever it is that you're going through… you can pass through it.”
He turned his head to face you, his expression softening into something more vulnerable as you say that. Clearly touched by your words. Feeling a lump rise in his throat as he closes his eyes once more and exhales shakily.
You were so…innocent. You had no idea what was going on in his head or what actually he turned into. You also had no idea about the vicious but repetitive cycle he was in.
Opening up about this life of his…would ruin such a sweet and innocent thing like you, he was sure of that. He knew you weren't a kid or anything or that you never faced hardships in your life. But this…he can't tell you about what he faces out there, what kind of ugliness his line of work shows him everyday, the dark side of humanity.
He can't taint the only ray of sunshine he ever found in his life.
You look up at him with that sweet dazzling smile, thinking he was someone ‘great’. But reality couldn't be farther from the truth.
Hello everyone! Long time no see, I'm sorry for my disappearance. I promise I will try to be regular now, I know this was short I will probably try to make a part 2? Idk but this was mostly written for my creativity to start flowing again. If you liked it please like it and reblog. I would be very grateful 😊
Fun fact: Daffodils are a sign of hope!
Thank you for reading this, hope you have a good day!
-Bella
#leon kennedy × reader#leon kennedy#resident evil#leon kennedy × you#leon vendetta#leon kennedy angst#bella fics#vendetta leon#re vendetta#infinite darkness#resident evil vendetta#resident evil fanfiction#fanfic rec#fanfic#death island leon#leon kennedy fluff#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy× y/n#leon re6#older leon kennedy
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I would love to read more of your desecrated Grave AU if that isn't to much trouble?
Tbh, it was supposed to be a one time thing but I can give it another go :))
——
Zatanna's dealt with everything from demons to gods, eldritch horrors to cute little puppies. It says a lot, in her opinion, that the GIW managed to invoke such a response of recoiling horror in her.
The magician took in the blood and ectoplasm splattered walls, the writhing reanimated organism that came from exposure to said ectoplasm, and most damningly, the stacks of cracked and broken headstones piled in the corner of the room.
"Peek ruoy part tuhs!" she snarled, hands thrown out at the whimpering and beaten GIW agents. Her magic activated and sealed their voice boxes shut.
In the sudden silence, Zatanna walked to the stacked gravestones. She placed a hand upon the top most one and uttered a heart-broken apology, wondering how many ghosts perished.
"I'll bring you back to Phantom," she promised them. "Eb derots."
The gravestones vanished into her storage space, ready to be taken out when she willed them to be.
"Zatanna, everything finished?" Black Canary walked in, casting a disdainful glance at the agents. "You okay?"
"I can feel... there was much suffering here. They were supposed to be- dying was supposed to grant them peace. Not. Not this."
"We'll make sure it never happens again. The GIW is getting disbanded as we speak."
Their comms buzzed.
"Zatanna, the U.N. is requesting the presence of the ghost king in order to make amends." Batman said.
"Tell them he's going to be busy grieving the massacre of his people, committed by a branch of their government. We'll be damn lucky if he doesn't start a war over this, Batman. He'd be well within his rights to. It's bad."
"I'll hold them off."
"We're wrapping up on our end."
"Copy."
Zatanna turned to the scientists and agents and intoned "Eb devom edistuo!"
"C'mon Zee, let's go." Black Canary made sure she was out of the way before screaming, unleashing a wave of sound that shattered and crumbled the glass and walls of the facility.
"Fuck the government." Zatanna mumbled. How was she supposed to tell Phantom about the gravestones?
----
Phantom floated, the lost look on the young boy's face pulling at their hearts as his hands hovered above the broken gravestones, not daring to touch them.
"So many..." he whispered. Zatanna could do nothing but offer a nod, jaw clenched and eyes burning with fury and grief.
Phantom looked up at her. "Thank you, Zatanna, for bringing them back to us."
"It was the least we could do." Zatanna replied, and something about her voice must have resonated with Phantom because his apathetic façade broke and suddenly, Zatanna had an armful of a grieving, wailing ghost child. Her magic shielded her, but the glass began breaking at his ghostly wail. Still, Zatanna could tell he was holding back in attempt to not kill them all via the vacuum of space.
"Dleihs eht rewothctaw!" She quickly chanted. "Go ahead, you won't hurt us. I've shielded the place."
The glass stopped cracking and Phantom, no longer worried about killing her, screamed against her shoulder.
"Why?! WHAT CRIMES DID WE COMMIT BY DYING?! IT WASN'T ENOUGH TO SUFFER WHEN WE DIED?! WHY?!"
----
#danny phantom#dcxdp#zatanna#black canary#batman#the justice league#the giw#implications that the giw murdered a bunch of ghosts
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