#he’d be so understanding and encouraging :(

[connorsui]

One Touch Apart

Note: I couldn't help it after seeing the countless number of fanarts and game plays ....I just had to give myself an area to adore this man that is Mr. Crawling...♡♡

The faint hum of the outside world muted, but the warmth radiating from the strange entity in front of you made it feel less... empty. Mr. Crawling stood in the corner, his towering, spindly frame blending into the shadows, but his glowing, expressive gaze was fixed on you. For someone—or something—so otherworldly, he had a way of making you feel oddly at ease, even after everything you’d been through together.

Escaping the other world was nothing short of a nightmare, but somehow, having him here made it less terrifying. No one else could see him, which, honestly, was for the best. It meant you didn’t have to explain why this unsettling yet endearing entity was always hovering near you, his chirps and faint, childlike giggles filling the silence.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, trying and failing to suppress a smile as you caught him peering at you from behind the doorframe. His head tilted, chirping softly in response, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

He was like a puppy, in the most bizarre and disturbing way possible—always following you around, trying to mimic your actions, and doing his best to protect you, even if you weren’t in any real danger.

The language barrier between you two was a hurdle you hadn’t expected, but it hadn’t stopped you from trying. You’d started using hand signs, carefully shaping each motion to convey meaning. The first time you tried, though, he’d simply stared, his glowing eyes wide with fascination. Then, much to your amusement, he’d clumsily attempted to mimic your gestures, his ghostly fingers twitching in a disjointed imitation.

The two of you had ended up staring at each other in utter confusion before you burst out laughing. He’d tilted his head, watching you closely, then let out a high-pitched giggle, a hauntingly perfect mimicry of your own laugh.

That was the moment you realized how fond you’d become of him.

Now, as he chirped softly from his spot in the shadows, you glanced up at him, smiling. He smiled back—or, well, you thought it was a smile. His expressions were still hard to read, but the curve of his lips and the light in his eyes were unmistakable.

Hesitantly, you reached out, your fingers brushing over his arm. His skin—or whatever it was—was cool and smooth, like marble. He didn’t pull away, instead leaning into your touch with a quiet hum. Encouraged, you let your hand trail upward, brushing against his face.

Your knuckles ghosted over his cheek, gently brushing his hair aside. He froze for a moment, as if caught off guard, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever been touched so tenderly before.

His gaze—or where you thought his gaze should be—locked with yours. Did he even have eyes? You weren’t sure, but the intensity of his stare made your heart race.

The first time you’d felt this strange pull toward him had been in the other world, when he’d saved you from Mr. Scarletella. He’d pulled you down, crawling over you to hide you beneath his frame, shielding you from the other entity’s gaze. You hadn’t been able to forget the way his body curled protectively around yours, the warmth of his presence chasing away your fear.

It had only grown from there.

He’d been your constant companion, your protector, your solace in a place where nothing made sense. And now, as you stood here with him, that feeling blossomed into something more.

Your eyes drifted to his lips—pale, faintly cracked, but oddly inviting. What would they feel like against yours? Would he even understand the concept of a kiss?

You bit your lip, then pointed to your mouth, and then to his, hoping to get your message across. His smile widened, but he tilted his head slightly, an expression of playful confusion.

What? ; his expression seemed to ask, as if hes teasing you. would you care to show me?

Your cheeks flushed, and you let out a soft laugh. Of course, he’d turn this into a game.

“Well,” you murmured, stepping closer. “Who am I to say no?”

Carefully, you cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. His skin felt smoother than you expected, like polished stone, and yet there was a warmth beneath it that made you shiver.

He watched you intently, his glowing gaze unwavering as you leaned closer. Your breaths mingled, and for a moment, you hesitated, wondering if you were crossing a line. But his head tilted slightly, almost inviting, and you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was clumsy, his inexperience evident in the way his lips barely moved against yours. But there was a sweetness to it, a quiet eagerness that made your heart ache. When you finally pulled away, he let out his signature giggle, his lips twitching into an unmistakable smile.

And then he leaned forward, trying to capture your lips again.

“Greedy, aren’t you?” you teased, though you didn’t resist as he pressed another kiss to your mouth, this one slightly more confident than the last.

He giggled again, the sound almost giddy, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. It seemed you’d spoiled him now—because judging by the way he clung to you, he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

[fickleminder]

with you

I wrote this based on vibes alone. Viva la OM fandom.

“Keep running!”

It felt like you were dreaming. Everything was rushing past you in a blur as Mammon pulled you along by an iron grip on your hand. He’d always been the fastest of his brothers, but you had no clue what the cause of his panic was this time.

“They’re coming for us.” Lucifer answered your unspoken question, frustration laced in his curt words. “But we’ll make sure they don’t get you too.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked dazedly, still trying to understand what was happening. One moment you were minding your own business, the next the brothers were practically corralling you out of the house and towards who-knows-where. There was no warning, no fanfare, just a lot of urgency and confusion. “Who’s coming?”

“It’s the final boss! The one who’s been pulling all the strings from the start!” Levi wasn’t making any sense either. “So many plot holes, so many loose threads, and now they’re just gonna wipe the slate clean!”

“We’re getting you back to the human world. You have friends there, you’ll be okay.” Satan explained, oddly calm given the situation.

“But what about you guys?” The sinking feeling in your chest had reached your stomach. You felt as though you could puke from sheer stress alone, the way it seemed like they were saying goodbye. “And— and Diavolo, Barbatos, the angels—”

“They’ll meet us at the portal, so don’t stop working those legs honey!” Asmo tried to encourage you, his perfect smile straining against the exhaustion from keeping up with his brothers.

(“But Mephisto, Thirteen and Raphael—”

“Hush, Beel. MC doesn’t have to know they’re not coming. Not anymore.”

“…Okay.”)

The portal was wide open when you arrived. Diavolo and Barbatos greeted you with forced smiles which only made you freak out even more.

“Thank you for coming at such short notice,” Diavolo said, looking at you apologetically. “I’m sorry for not consulting you about our decision first, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Whatever this is, we can face it together!” You reasoned, not above begging at this point. “I can help—”

“You can help by staying safe,” Barbatos interrupted you with a rare frown, and that was the moment you realized things were going to shit. Whatever your expression was, it made the butler’s soften gently. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take care of yourself from now on.”

Two arms wrapped around your waist like a vice, and you looked down to see Luke squeezing you like his life depended on it. “Don’t forget, you have my blessing, so everything’s gonna be okay, you’ll see!”

“No more tears, lamb.” Simeon reached out to wipe away the wet tracks on your cheeks. You didn’t realize the waterworks had started. It was the slow, quiet kind that came with deep sorrow etched into your very bones. “We’ll see each other again. Please try to stay strong until then.”

Solomon held out his hand and you took it without hesitation, your trust in your mentor unwavering. “We’ll be with you, always. Your pacts, your memories, they can’t take those away from you.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Your voice wobbled despite your best effort.

He only gripped your hand tighter, and that was answer enough.

“It is time,” Lucifer murmured. Everyone gathered behind you as you stepped towards the swirling mass of magic. No matter how hard you willed them, your legs simply refused to obey your heart, trudging robotically into the light and away from your family and home.

This was wrong, this was all wrong, how were you supposed to keep going without them—

“Our love for you is Eternal,” was the last thing you heard before Solomon let go and everything went white.

[jamtartandsunshine]

Roys been helping his sister raise Phoebe for the little girls entire life. He’s lost count of how many times he’s woken up to the little gremlin standing beside his bed, or even creepier standing in the doorway, the faint light of the lamp he leaves on in the hallway for her eerily glowing behind her.

He’s used to it.

So when he wakes up to a faint knock and his bedroom door opening with a slow creak it’s muscle memory that has him shuffling over in bed and flinging back his quilt before he’s even cracked open his heavy eyes.

“Roy?”

The voice makes Roy jolt awake. It’s deeper, even in a soft whisper, but more than that is the tremble in the single word. The hesitation, the fear has Roy sitting up blinking against the familiar glow of the hall light.

Except this time he hadn’t turned it on for his niece, she was safe at home tucked into her own bed.

And yet he’d hesitated at the light switch after seeing his player safely to bed in the guest room. Something inside him making him flip the light on, almost as if he knew this moment would come.

“Jamie” Roy grunts his voice heavy with sleep “you okay?”

He looks so young standing in the doorway of Roy’s bedroom, wringing his hands nervously, his shoulders hunched in way that makes Roy frown at him, knowing it must be aggravating the bruised ribs that lay hidden beneath the borrowed hoodie the young man is wearing.

“Dunno” Jamie mutters nervously. “Sorry-I-I dunno what I’m doing…I’ll just…” he takes a step back, stumbling into the door.

“Jamie” Roy calls sitting up straighter reaching out to pull the quilt back further in silent invitation.

Jamies eyes widen at the gesture, looking over at Roy longingly but he doesn’t move. His hands drift under his hoodie, pulling the black material taunt as he fidgets anxiously.

Roy can’t help the tired sigh that slips out. Regrets floods through him as Jamie flinches back at the sound and Roy silently berates himself.

“It’s okay” he encourages tiredly patting the empty space beside him “I won’t fucking bite, let’s just get some sleep yeah?”

He watches as Jamie fights with himself but after a moment he clearly makes his choice as he slowly moves forward towards the bed.

“Sorry” Jamie whispers as he carefully crawls into Roy’s bed. Roy immediately notes that he’s trembling almost violently “M’ being fuckin’ stupid…just…I heard a car door slam and I dunno…” his voice drops as his unconsciously sinks closer to Roy “I got scared…S’ stupid”

“It’s not fucking stupid” Roy grunts laying back down, shifting onto his side so he can look at Jamie in the dim moonlight. “It’s completely fucking understandable after the shit day you’ve had”

Jamie makes a small noise of acknowledgment but he doesn’t relax.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?”

Jamie hesitates, the trembling picking back up a little “dunno” he almost whimpers. “I…I dunno”

It’s too much. Jamie’s scared and shaking, covered in bruises and all Roy can think of is how he’d flinched at every sudden movement that night, every sound.

The thing is, Roys been helping his sister raise Phoebe for the little girls entire life. He’s lost count of how many times he’s wiped away tears, or soothed nightmares. And while Jamie’s not Roy’s nine year old niece, he is a scared kid and Roy can’t just pretend Jamie’s not crying next to him and go back to sleep.

He shifts closer to Jamie. Slowly, and cautiously being careful not to startle him “don’t fucking laugh at me” he warns lightly “but do you want a cuddle?”

[aizenify]

[💌] AIZEN SŌSUKE RELATIONSHIP HEADCANNONS

[NOTE]: Aizen has a variety of character arcs, so this won't be limited to any specific one. I do plan to create a more detailed version covering the different Aizen arcs in the future, but you're welcome to request any specific one in the meantime.

[ ☕️ ] My ask box is open! If you have a specific prompt you'd like me to write about—whether it's relationships, everyday activities, or anything else—don't hesitate to ask! I encourage you to suggest whatever your heart desires.

TW: none!

This will be split into 2 sections

What does Aizen look for?

— If you were Aizen’s partner, you’d definitely be someone very special to him. Looks wouldn’t be as important; rather, it would be your personality and ideologies that matter most.

— For instance, Aizen values someone who enjoys challenges and is willing to take risks. He’s all for that, but, of course, you’d also need to be cautious at times.

— Aizen greatly appreciates a deep understanding of the world. I like to think that he and his partner would engage in philosophical conversations daily. He’d want someone to explore the world with, to venture into new places, and try new experiences. Aizen definitely strikes me as the type to enjoy travel.

— He would want someone who challenges him. Given who Aizen is, he wouldn’t be interested in a partner who is passive or follows the crowd. He wants someone who will challenge his ideas, his ethics, and his worldview. He seeks someone who is on the same intellectual level, someone equal to him, or perhaps even better. This is something he has always longed for.

— I believe Aizen is sapiosexual, meaning he is attracted to people with high intelligence, and also likely demisexual or somewhere on the aromantic/asexual spectrum. He deeply values intelligence and personal space. For him, the sexual aspects of a relationship would not be his focus; instead, he values the fundamentals. His understanding of "love" is more complex than that of most people.

— Building on what I mentioned about his view on love, you would also need to respect his needs and be patient. Trust is essential here. Aizen doesn’t easily trust anyone, so the idea of him loving someone would make him feel extremely vulnerable. While he views trust as a form of reliance, his approach to trust in relationships is different. His way of showing trust and love will likely be expressed through his actions. Perhaps after Muken, Aizen would become more open and free. Muken Aizen, after all, is much more carefree and relaxed.

I’ll keep this section as is since it’s getting long. I’ll leave the rest for another day!

What will Aizen be like with his S/O?

— Aizen would likely ask for your thoughts on his plans or if you have any alternative suggestions for execution. He enjoys the sound of his own voice, so don’t be surprised if he rambles on about his strategies or just shares his thoughts from time to time.

— He will shower his partner with gifts and words of affirmation. Aizen is incredibly attentive and will take note of even the smallest details about what you like, even if you haven’t explicitly told him.

— Quality time will be very important to him as well. Despite his preference for solitude, having someone by his side will be a refreshing change. After being alone for so long, it’s natural to crave companionship. Aizen will likely plan a variety of activities for you both to enjoy together, whether it’s shopping, cooking, or simply taking a walk. Every moment with you will be meaningful.

— Physical touch is something Aizen might find unfamiliar at first. He’s used to being cautious with those around him, especially with anyone who gets too close. However, I think he would offer hugs from time to time as a way to show that he’s there for you and cares for you. If he knows you enjoy physical affection, he’ll make an effort to meet that need, even if it takes him a while to become fully comfortable with it!

— Expect a lot of playful bantering. Aizen seems like He enjoys a bit of lighthearted back-and-forth.

— Aizen will take you out on extravagant dates or to fancy venues. He is undoubtedly classy and chivalrous, he will treat you with the utmost respect and make sure you always get the best of everything!

That’s all for now! Thank you for reading!!! This is my first published hc 🧡🤎☕️

[amuseoffyre]

Fyre's convention adventures - Day 3 - Con O'Neill's Fanmeet

My final meet of the event was Con’s, immediately after the joyful chaos of his panel with Rhys.

Forewarning, this one contains some details of animal harm that happened to his pet before he got him.

He barely had sat down when someone asked if he’d been Whammed already and the look of feigned shock and “that’s none of your business!” set the tone of the thing :D He also told us in his best encouraging voice "You can be whammed as much as you like and don't let the right wing tell you otherwise!"

And also led into a discussion about whether it was Wham! or whether it was George Michael’s solo for Last Christmas and he had to sheepishly back down after a minute and admit, no, it was Wham, definitely Wham.

And of course, I had to bring up accent stuff and asked how it felt to actually be able to use his own accent, given how rarely northern English accents show up in media made elsewhere. He said it was a delight to be able to bring a bit of Wigan to the production.

He also talked about his drama teacher when he was a kid (who he did not name because she doesn’t deserve that respect) who – when he was sixteen – told him he would never be a successful actor because he had a weird voice. There was apparently a recent review for The Penguin series that someone said he had the coolest voice and he thought that was a lovely fuck you to that malignant boot.

He made a beautiful point that if you’re a teacher, especially a teacher in a creative field, you have a duty to be encouraging. Not talking BS about how everyone will be famous, he said, but realistic, supporting and encouraging the kids, because “we know it’s hard. We don’t need to be told it’s hard. We know, but when it’s good, it’s fucking amazing”. He also mentioned that it’s come so far from the days of RP everywhere.

I said it was definitely how I felt about seeing Buttons as well – having a working class Edinburgh accent, something that so many people have never heard. He was so happy to talk about how fantastic Ewen Bremner is as an actor (“even if I can’t understand anything he’s saying”) and that he saw him in the original run of the Trainspotting stage production in the 90s when Ewen played Renton, several years before the film happened.

It was surreal, he said, to have seen this incredible actor on stage and thirty years later, to be sharing the screen with him as Buttons (“and still not understanding a word he was saying!”) and that Ewen is genuinely one of the best actors he knows and that he’s also the best kind of people.

Someone asked about how they did the seagull stuff with Buttons and he told us about Jonathan, the gull on a string, but in the shots when they didn’t have the camera on Buttons, Ewen wore a stuffed seagull on his head to maintain the right eyelines. He had to admit it was quite challenging to keep his face straight when filming because when Ewen spoke, the plushie gull was jiggling on his head XD

And then, of course, he broke our hearts by telling us about how he and his husband adopted Cooper, their wee doggo.

Their previous dog had passed and they’d been adamant they weren’t going to adopt again because it fully broke their hearts when he died, but someone sent Con a picture of a dog in a shelter in Hungary, saying “does this remind you of anyone?” and it was the spitting image of their previous dog. They got a bit emotional about it and after a few days of trying to hold off, they called the shelter.

Cooper had already been adopted – in London – but it wasn’t working out, so they got in touch with the current owners and planned to go down and meet them. The first time Cooper saw them, he started barking excitedly and things only escalated :D

They took Cooper off for a walk to see how they got on, then got so distracted comparing selfies, that Cooper trotted off and they were so panicked about losing him that they rushed back to tell the current owners, only Cooper was there, patiently waiting on the step and ecstatically started barking when he saw them coming again.

So they go in and Con said he took one of the ladies aside to find out why the adoption hadn’t worked, because they needed to know why in case it was major behavioural things that needed work. She said that the dog was incapable of love or connecting with people. And Con, looking beyond her shoulder, could see his husband on the floor, dog on his chest, wagging his tail so enthusiastically his whole body was wagging, licking Con’s husband all over his face. Con be like MMHM. Sounds like a skills issue ;)

So they took him home but got a bit concerned when he had a tendency to bite and latch on if people touched his ears or ribs. Turned out Cooper had been horribly abused in Hungary: tattoos on his ear, broken ribs, cigarette burns and surgery without anaesthetic. They were worried it could be a problem because they have young grandkids.

Still, they decided do the trial adoption and see how he got on – usually, he said, the trial is for a week or two, then the dog returns to the original adopters and then the paperwork is done. They never saw the original adopters again.

And while they were still concerned about the biting, Con had to go away for work for a few weeks, so they got a dog-sitter in to look after Cooper. When Con returned, he said Cooper crawled along the floor of the hall on his belly to Con, head and ears down, then crawled all the way up under his shirt, curling up against his chest, trembling and whimpering. The dogsitter – who is some kind of pet psychologist as well – said it was because he’s been abandoned and dumped so many times, he didn’t know they were coming back.

Con: right that second, I decided fuck the grandkids, we’re keeping him.

And now, Cooper is so happy and safe and loved and safe :)

There was one other question but I can’t recall what it was now. It was such a lovely chat and he is genuinely such a lovely, warm, funny guy.

[transformers-spike]

hey! been reading all your stuff and absolutely love what you do. i got an idea regarding team prime having their first christmas party at the base (june insisted), and they’re each introduced to the concept of kissing under mistletoe

I'm going for something where the reader is already in a relationship with the bot of choice. It's mostly just cute interactions with a hint of spice mid post.

Optimus takes it rather well considering… everything. He’s got a team to lead, a dead planet on his conscience and a homoerotic rivalry with his ex-best friend/murderous dictator who’s obsessed with him. Life could be a lot better right now. But it also could be a lot worse. He’s content watching from the sidelines as his fellow Autobots enjoy a new part of Earth culture. Don’t mind him, he’ll join in once his work is done. For now the best he can do is flash you an encouraging smile as you fail to string out the Christmas lights for the fifth time in a row – you can do it, he believes in you. He tries his best to seem oblivious when you climb the ladder June is holding still (the ultimate wingwoman), keeping a close optic behind the terminal just in case things go south and he has to catch you. When you call his name with the goofiest smile on your face, he beams at you, equal parts pride and cute aggression. “Hey,” you drawl, doing your best to seem as charming as possible while holding on for dear life on the only thing stopping you from plummeting to the ground. “So there’s this Christmas tradition you may not have heard about…” He attentively listens to the explanation, nodding his helm and faking surprise when he hears what mistletoes entail. His spark stutters in his chassis when you ask him, sheepishly averting your gaze, if he’d like to partake in this human tradition. He graciously accepts, hovering a servo over your frame (in case you stumble back in shock) and leans in for you to initiate the kiss. Yes, Miko told him. Yes, she ruined the surprise. No, he won’t tell you because he’s never seen you happier getting to kiss him.

Ratchet is unimpressed. At least that’s what he wants you to believe. He’s so invested in decorating he spends every minute off work painstakingly stringing obnoxiously bright garlands around the railings and holding the kids in his servos to reach the highest branches of the gigantic and possibly illegally uprooted Christmas tree. He’s complaining about the time he will waste taking down the decorations, but everyone in the base knows damn well he’s going to keep them on as long as he can. You don’t even have to bring up the mistletoe, he’s overheard enough from the crappy Holiday-themed movies the kids have been watching to secretly crank up the charm while scoffing on the outside. You’re watching the kids place the final touches on the tree, a mug of eggnog in one hand while helping yourself to some Santa-shaped sugar cookies. You barely notice Ratchet leaning in with a minuscule strand of mistletoe between his massive digits. It takes a moment for you to understand, what with the plant being nigh invisible in his servo. Finally, you swallow thickly and stand on your tippy toes (on the couch no less) to reach his intake. The kiss is the longest he’s ever experienced up until now, and while he has the kissing abilities of a dying fish, he melts into it while you forget how to breathe.

Bulkhead is clearly enjoying himself, watching bad Christmas dramas with the kids, trying to figure out how to remix old carols with Miko adding a rock (and occasionally death metal) twist. It’s simultaneously the funniest and most mind-boggling Holiday celebration anyone has ever experienced, add Wheeljack into the mix and now Ratchet is watching these two like a hawk in case they roughhouse too much and crush the Christmas tree. Miko would actually love to see that, and you and Bulkhead both have to be the responsible adults of the situation and try to keep the damage at a minimum while Wheeljack acts like the world’s worst influence on a teenager. By Primus, Bulkhead is actually tempted to join it, and now you have to reel in two grown adult mechs eons your senior and one 15 year old girl. Primus save you. And yet, beyond all expectations, said 15 year old girl is your wingwoman for the evening, which is simultaneously humiliating and a godsend. When she pulls out the plastic mistletoe from her pocket and holds it over you and Bulkhead’s heads from her vantage point on his neck, a move she’s been planning months in advance, your soul exits your body. The staring contest between you and her robot dad breaks only when Miko urges you to do something at least. The kiss is short and sweet, Bulkhead is screaming inside during the whole ordeal no matter how brief, hoping to Primus he didn’t somehow kiss you so badly during a five second interval you’re willing to break up with him. Nah, you’re blushing so intensely June thinks you’re about to have an aneurysm.

Wheeljack is a menace, and it’s entirely your fault. Mentioning the tradition wasn’t supposed to end up like this, but alas, horny dumbassery always leads to worst case scenarios. Bulkhead told you to go for it, meaning well with his encouragement but sealing your fate for the next 24 hours. Ratchet asked you if you were out of your mind, the voice of reason and simultaneously the bitchiest best friend you could ask for, telling you loud and clear if anything happened it would be on your conscience alone. June put a hand on your shoulder and (half) jokingly said she would ask to be assigned to your hospital room. Truly, you have the will to live of a hamster doing its hardest to die a horribly gruesome death and reach hamsterhallah. What a genius you are. Wheeljack wasted no time getting you under the mistletoe Bulkhead helped string up, and maybe you envisioned it differently when he narrowly bruised your lips going in for the kiss. You tried to keep the sloppy makeout session brief, but from the way Bulkhead was shielding the kids behind not one but two giant servos, you might have overdone it. What you especially did not expect, however, was waking up in the Jackhammer’s passenger seat with the worst migraine of your life and dry transfluid slathered all over your crotch. Now, trying to recall the events of last night with the worst eggnog hangover you’ve ever experienced, you can only wait for Wheeljack to awaken from recharge in the pilot’s seat. You note the traces of transfluid on his lips, and your eyes trail down to your suspiciously bluish hand. Did you fist Wheeljack on Christmas Eve?

Bumblebee is having the time of his life. You got Raf (and his Autobot guardian) some discount Christmas-themed games from the only offbrand Gamestop in all of Jasper as an early present. You watch with rapt amusement as they laugh at the frankly abysmal coding and game design, enjoying themselves to the fullest despite the sub-optimal gameplay, but you almost choke on your spit when Raf actually starts analyzing the code for the game and applying level-breaking cheats in a matter of minutes. Cheesus Christ, that kid can hack into the Pentagon at this point. You move in front of Agent Fowler’s line of sight to stop him from seeing just what kind of threat to national security Raf can become. As the day nearly comes to an end and you’re half sure Jack is scrutinizing Ratchet who’s flirting with his mom who’s tucking her hair behind her ear in the single mom sign for “I will fuck this alien robot”; you beckon Bumblebee closer and hold out the mistletoe over your head and his uh… forehead. You kiss him slowly, holding onto the railing as he leans his face into your lips, beeping happily. Little do you know, Miko saw it and now she’s going to hold out a mistletoe over your heads for the next 5 hours until your mouth grows numb from kissing him. He looks so damn happy whenever he notices the mistletoe, you can’t say no to him, not when Dadimus Prime is watching from the other corner of the room.

Arcee is ahead of schedule. She knows what you’re going to do, and she’s already planning to one up you. Yes, she’s been especially busy giving the kids a lift to put up the final ornaments on the tree in spite of her initial protests, but now you’re fiddling with your fingers stealing occasional glances like you’re desperately hyping yourself up for what’s to come. You have no idea what you’re doing to her looking so shy and cute. She could just eat you up. You’re unsure when you go up to her, Christmas fun fact on your lips and sweating bullets just thinking about what you’re going to do - and your jaw drops down to the Earth’s core when she gingerly holds a strand of mistletoe over your heads. She wishes she could capture your expression and lock it inside her spark. When you kiss, it’s deep and longing, filled with a need to give yourself up completely in spite of being so finite next to her. And she welcomes it, all of it, taking your eagerness and savoring every minute with you. When you pull away heaving for breath, your hair’s a mess and you’re redder than Cliffjumper’s plating. Your eyes twinkle when you look at her, equal parts love and desperation to surrender yourself to her with all the trust in the world. She will protect you until the day she offlines.

[mxchineherald]

 He pauses, is golden eyes flicking up to focus on her face and take in her expressions as she speaks. After a few words, her arm is offered to him, and his gaze falls back to it. “… That is what these places are for. The Underground used to make use of them for their injured back when Piltover occupied Zaun.” He freely calls the city by its true name while in it, seeing as Jayce and his other, Topsider colleagues aren’t present to correct him. “They stay in use, well, because the occupation hasn’t stopped, only grown more palatable.”

 He begins to wrap her arm, keeping the joint still with his left hand while the right does the wrapping. His eyes stay on his work, rather than her face, but he looks thoughtful, as though he’s listening to her words with keen attention. “I didn’t, but I must admit, your perseverance is astonishing.” He pays the compliment plainly, without any flair or extra attention. It’s stated as fact.

 She's opening up to him, he can tell. Her sort weren’t usually the type for talking, so he appreciates her candor with an understanding nod of his head. “If you can rely on yourself, it saves you from being caught helpless.” He pulls the gauze tight, tying it in a secure knot before sitting back with a satisfied sigh through his nose. “But it helps to have at least a few select people you can turn to when that self-reliance runs short.” He tips his head to the side for a moment. Jayce. Sky. Heimerdinger. He has three.

 It’s revealed that her intent was a least in part to satisfy his urge to help, and he lifts his head in immediate relation o the gesture. “… Thank you,” he says with a crack of a smile, “…for a taste of my own medicine.” He’s always accepting help from others, in part to encourage them to further acts of good. He’d always been somewhat annoyed by doing it, but being on the other side of it has made things feel a shade or so clearer.

 With her arm wrapped, and his business in Zaun yet unfinished, he stands up, being careful not to lock up his leg as he does so. “I don’t think I thanked you before for saving me, so… Thank you for that, too.” He gives her another regard. “Will you be alright on your own?”

For a second it seems she's not aware of his words. It's spent rapidly shaking her head, short, harsh breaths preventing her from crying out again despite the fact that there's really no weakness that could be interpreted from being hurt by forcing her joint to bend the way it's supposed to. Her fist pounds against her thigh, once, and with one more firm shake she gets herself under control.

"...attempt?" She grins through the pain, then slooowly breathes out and lets her face return to neutral. "I... do appreciate you having your own supplies available. To be honest, I might use this place again. I can keep it stocked, but... well. When I'm away from home, it pays to have a spot or two where I can hole up and. Take stock." To her own credit, she offers her arm for him to wrap, not even taking the gauze from him to try it herself.

"...I was fully intending to just take care of it on my own, but. They did knock me for a loop, and it didn't seem like you would believe I was going to recover quickly enough for it to matter." She falls silent, eyes going away from him while she considers her next words.

"This is just the way I am, I suppose. Self-reliance should be a person's first and most valuable tool, because while the kindness of others can never be relied on..." She huffs as the bandage is drawn tight, currently not able to work on her other arm. At least the poultice isn't falling off.

"...I didn't want your desire to do the right thing to go unfulfilled. And I really am going to be holing up here if I end up getting into another tight spot and have to fight my way out." Never mind that she's certain if she wasn't also trying to protect him, she would have done just fine.

[pissfizz]

I remember why I stopped reading this fic oh my god

[xzho-writes]

i have a presentation to deliver in around 12-14hrs and my anxiety is criminally high so i am going to ramble about my comfort character mr deezluc ragnvindr <3

[phantomsies]

𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 • 𝖆.𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙

your biggest fan soon becomes your biggest obsession….

black onlyfans creator!reader (fem descriptions), nerdy!armin, public sex/public masturbation, squirting, mentions of toys, exhibitionism, throatfucking, cumshot

📝: I wanted to go a completely different direction with this but a) it’s no longer kinktober and it would’ve much better suited that and b) nerd!armin just scratches an itch in my brain I can’t quite put my finger on. So enjoy! 🫶🏾 (also, I AM SO SORRY THIS SHIT IS SO LONG 😭😭 I don’t intend on headcanons being this length but I can’t shut the fuck up.)

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

nerd!armin had been a dutiful subscriber of (y/n) (l/n)’s or as the world knew you, (performer name) for quite some time. He’d faithfully watched your content, never missing an upload to your sites and shamelessly scrolling your Twitter.

nerd!armin preferred your videos over others because they were so unique. Always willing to push the envelope by shooting in unconventional spaces; your car, public bathrooms and even dressing rooms..a polar opposite to his shy, bashful nature. In a way, he was jealous but also aroused..

from your long acrylics, fluffy lashes, colorful hair that changed from video to video and of course, the beautiful, dark brown complexion that radiated underneath the sun or ring lights, nerd!armin was obsessed.

nerd!armin would lie in bed after a long study session, classes or even a hard day at work..mindlessly stroking his cock in one hand as he held his phone in the other, eyes glued to the screen whilst you performed those lewd acts.

shoving those dildos in and out of your tight cunt, those pretty pink walls and plump brown lips sucking on that silicone toy..stretching yourself open all for his pleasure. A jeweled butt plug shoved into your ass and cream oozing down onto that gorgeous skin and the leather of your seats as you worked yourself into countless orgasms..mewling and begging for the would be viewer to keep fucking you..

“Fuck, I’m about to come, daddy..you’re gonna make me squirt.” Crying out as nerd!armin jerked himself even faster..subconsciously responding back without a single other person being in the room. ”Squirt for me, baby. Come..” Whimpering before exploding with a load of his own..

despite only being an intern, nerd!armin was well off from his freelancing tech work and although it didn’t leave him much room for socializing, he would tip you amicably on all the new content, as well as leave kind, respectful, encouraging words. It wasn’t something you saw often in this field.

it also didn’t take nerd!armin long to realize that you never featured a partner in any of your content like some girls eventually did. Only the various assortment of toys gifted to you by supporters. Which only further fed his delusions when you made a mess and glared into the camera, batting those doe brown eyes before saying “..look at what you made me do..that big dick feels so good..”

nerd!armin, who had only been with one woman sexually in his entire life and didn’t date often, could only dream of being with a girl like you.

so it came as no surprise when you announced that you would be opening a contest to film with one of your subscribers for the first time, nerd!armin leaped at the chance! The thought of getting to fuck the woman he’d hopelessly fawned over excited him.

nerd!armin nearly fainted when he got a DM on OnlyFans one day to see that he had won, asking when he’d like to arrange the meetup.

nerd!armin was understandably nervous on the day you two came face to face..but felt as ease when you continuously reassured him and even made sure that both of you had been tested, as well as protection.

“You’re so cute..it’s nice to finally meet you. Thank you for supporting me..” your gentle voice sent a shockwave of butterflies soaring through nerd!armin’s stomach as you wrapped him in a tight hug…and of course, a tightening in his pants upon laying eyes on his favorite creator. But that was merely the beginning.

nerd!armin found himself blushing when you slowly traced circles all over his skin, examining the single tattoo on his forearm and complimenting the smell of his cologne as the two of you sat alone in the bedroom of the designated filming space of your spacious home. Impressed by the bookshelves full of old literature he passed on the way in.

“Mmmm..you’re nervous, aren’t you?” “…I guess you could say that.” “Well don’t be, I’m going to make sure we have a good time, I promise..”

nerd!armin had no idea just how true you were to your word when less than ten minutes after the camera came on, you were on your knees, tongue extended and a wide smile on your face as he towered over you.

nerd!armin could hardly contain himself when eventually, those glossy brims were now encompassed around his cock. Slurping noises emanating around the room, along with his adorable cries…sloppy drool and gag spit spilling from that wet mouth and onto the pulsating head, shaft and those swollen balls. Disregarding the fact that your pretty face had become a disheveled mess.

“Oh my God…that feels so good, beautiful. Your mouth feels fucking amazing..” “You wanna come for me, baby?” “..yes! Drain me, please..” pathetically pleading whilst relentlessly fucking your throat.

nerd!armin unabashedly spent days, practicing his stroke on a translucent flesh light, feeding it deep thrusts and stuffing it with an ungodly amount of cum, examining your videos like study material..in hopes of gaining some stamina against you.

but nothing could prepare nerd!armin for the sheer sensation that being inside of you brought upon him.. however, he wasn’t the only one caught off guard..especially when he’d gently tug your head down and force you to watch as he glided into that narrow hole.. a move he’d learn from his tapes.

“It’s so big..damn..” “I told you..” giggling to yourselves as your gazes met and he’d begin to move.

nerd!armin almost felt compelled to believe that you were faking your moans like other pornstars so often did…but that misconception was cleared up when your eyes began to trail back, legs began to tremble and a slight bulge formed at the very bottom of your stomach.

“Yes, you stretching the fuck out of this pussy, baby..right there!..” “Am-am I doing a good job?” “You fucking me so good, please don’t stop.”

nerd!armin nearly lost all composure when you all but pushed him away, only to shower him in a stream of your juices. Only increasing as he tapped that swollen tip against your quivering folds.

nerd!armin didn’t last more than five minutes after that powerful climax and began dry heaving as his own neared. Ushering you back to your knees to paint those pretty features and tits with his load.

nerd!armin was convinced that once the cameras shut off, you’d put him out for nutting too quickly. Surely a woman of your caliber would never deal with that again. But yet again, he was proven wrong when you smiled up at him, flicking your tongue across your lips before posing a question. “So..where should we should film next time? We gotta do this more often..”

nerd!armin had found himself the newest and sole object of (creator’s name) affection!

[spencerreidenjoyer]

we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is. 

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Simon "Ghost" Riley’s Breeding Kink 💘

just smut, breeding kink, praise, mdni

Simon had never brought up wanting kids, and you’d sort of assumed that he didn’t want them - with a background like his, and the hardened man that he is (when he’s not feeling poorly, and trying to be close to you 24/7) it would be totally understandable if he didn’t want to bring a whole new human into the world. Maybe the trauma just ruled that out. Even he had never really, consciously wanted children.

That was until you were pinned below him, with your pretty legs hoisted up to your chest and your hands wrapped around his body, digging into his back, dwarfed by the size of him. Simon likes to fuck you deep - he can go fast or slow, he doesn’t mind, but he needs to make sure that cute little cunt is taking all of him. He’d never wanted children, but the sight of you on his dick, little gasps slipping from those lips… you’d look so pretty carrying his babies.

"I want t’get you pregnant," he grunts, a tattooed arm moving up to the side of your head to support him as he fucks into you. You’ve been with him before, but you never get used to the sheer power of him, your lips forming a little O as you struggle to form your words.

"Wh- but I- Si-" you whine. You only wish he’d slow down to let you speak, but your flushed mumbling just encourages him, his fat tip making a bulge in your stomach.

"Can’t talk, love? Is my pretty girl struggling..?" A little, nasty glint in his eyes tells you just how much he’s enjoying seeing you struggle like this.

"Will you le’me give you a baby, darlin’?" he groans, gently brushing your hair out of your face. Faint words try to escape your lips but it’s futile, and your boyfriend grins as he watches you splutter and nod for him.

His strokes only become faster and deeper, causing your toes to curl when he touches parts so deep inside of you that you didn’t think possible. He let out little grunts of appreciation as your walls gripped him tight.

"Fuck…" he groaned, his brow furrowing, "y’feel so good… fuck…"

This man makes sure to take his time (and savour the view) and when he finally shoots his cum inside of you, he stays in there for a little while - just to make sure nothing can escape and undo all his hard work. If it did, it wouldn’t matter, he’d just fuck it right back into you.

"Such a good girl… takin’ my kids so well…" he whispers gruffly into your ear, his large hands stroking your back gently as you catch your breath.

"You’ll look so pretty with my babies, darlin’," he kisses your forehead softly.

i’m very new to writing smut so i hope this was ok 😋 love you lots

[caotictimmy]

if you're doing mouthwashing can i have daisuke x reader hcs plz... just pretend the tulpar never crashed i want him to be happy hjdkjkdsjg

OMG ANON…you get me. Daisuke has me in a CHOKEHOLD. Ok so here are how the headcanons are gonna go. Pre dating/confession. Dating and NSFW. I had another anon ask me to do NSFW head canons with daisuke. So why not kill two birds with one stone. The regular head canon r gonna be Gn. But the NSFW are gonna have some AFAB stuff. Still can kinda be read as Gn.

Crushing - Confession

- I believe Daisuke crushing on you would be a very, you fell first, but he fell harder kinda thing.

- I think that because Daisuke can be well.. a bit dense (still love him though). That he’s not really gonna pick up on any hints or flirting. So you kinda of have to wait till he realizes he likes you.

- When he does realize he likes you is probably when you were sticking up for him against Swansea(I love you Swansea but you still were mean to Daisuke🙁).

- It’s gonna be easy to tell when he likes you. This man is gonna be so obvious😭🙏

- We all know he’s eager to please right? He’s doing this with you 2 times more. Always asking if you needed anything, he’d be right on it.

-Little things to. I’m talking some laying his shirt over a puddle for you to step on. I feel like he tries to woe you with these gestures.(and it works)

- Daisuke loves listening to your voice. No matter how your voice sounds. He’ll go out of his ways to find you to ramble on about something. He thinks you look and sound cute rambling. o(^w^)o

- Also I think he just likes looking at you. There have been MANY times where Swansea has smacked Daisuke in the back of the head, cause he got sidetrack staring at you with this very lovesick grin. Staring like you personally hung the stars for him.

- Daisuke would be a bit too nervous to think of confessing first. So Swansea would definitely be pushing him to confess. He’s tired of seeing you two ogling at each other and doing nothing about it😒.

- Our sly little man some how convinced Curly to make a cake for him to give you. (I swear on my life curly is a die hard romantic but I’m saving that for when I do headcanons on him later)

- I feel like Daisuke would sneak in your room. Waiting for you to enter. When you do he lifts up the cake in his hands, “ Imadeyouthiscakewillyoudateme” He rambled out. Being scared you would say no.

- But when you say yes. I’m not kidding he shouted “WHOO HOO!!!”. It was very funny. Daisuke would quickly put the cake down and rush to hug you,

Dating

- I feel like the affection he likes to receive is words of affection and physical contact. And for what he usually gives. Acts of service and physical affection. Let me explain

-(Daisuke receiving) It’s a bit obvious that Daisuke probably hasn’t gotten a lot of praise in his life. So I believe that he absolutely melts when you give him these encouraging words. It can range from a lot. From a small, “good job” to a “I love you so much, no matter what.”. It makes him so happy like you don’t even understand.

-(Daisuke receiving) Idk it’s just a an itch in my brain telling me. I think he likes all kinds of physical affection. From holding his pinky, to wrapping you arms and legs around him cuddling. If it insures some sort of touching he’s down. I also think he like resting his head on either your thighs, or chest. Resting his eyes. PLEASE scratch his head or tangle your fingers through his hair. He loves it so much. Like it calms him down so much.

-(Daisuke giving) You can’t tell me this man isn’t at least a bit clingy. Not in a “if you talk to someone else I’ll kill them” type of way but a “ you make me feel safe and secure” kind of way. Does that make sense? Anyways, he loves flopping onto you when he sees you laying down. Like I’m talking full rag doll flop. I fully believe he brought a stuff animal on the ship. So he fully treats you like a stuff animal. Quick random switch. I don’t think he likes being the small spoon. Only because I feel like he needs to sleep holding something. I don’t think he would mind being big spoon. But overall he prefers you two facing each other.

-(Daisuke giving) We all know he has a knack for trying to be as helpful as he can. We can see that when he tried to fix the vent! To trying to crawl up it to save Anya… guys I can’t do this anymore. ANYWAYS. This man does not want you to lift a FINGER. He is so head over heels inlove with you. He’ll do anything for you. He’ll ask him to bring you a star and he’d ask which one. LIKE HE LOVES YOU SM AND JUST WANTS TO SEE YOU HAPPY.

- He loves kissing. Receiving and giving. From a simple peck, to kissing your face all over. He just loves it so much. He finds it so romantic. Listen hear me out. Non sexual neck kissing. He could be waking up before you(highly unlikely). Softly kissing your neck to wake you up. Just soft and sweet.

- Late night talks are a must with him. It could be about anything really. From what plot twist you guys thought would happen on the shitty soap opera you guys were watching. What ifs, what your guys future would look like, what you guys would be if you were animals. The topics you guys talk about are far and wide. But he enjoys the comfort of being by you.

- You can’t tell me this man isn’t a big back. Daisuke definitely brought a bunch of snacks with him. So he will happily share with you. He is a very giving person. But also expect to get your food stolen sometimes.. make sure you get extra food in your plate to give him the rest. He would appreciate it a lot!!!!!:3

- He also really loves spending anytime he can with you. Especially if it involves games. Let me tell you. YOU DO NOT WANNA PLAY DRESS TO IMPRESS WITH THIS MAN. He would cook you so hard in the game it’s not even funny. He’s literally in the top 10 players in dress to impress.

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (AFAB)

- Praise kink. YOU GUYS CANT TELL ME I’M WRONG. You guys could water board me. Scream at me that I’m wrong. Every time you praise him when y’all are getting freaky. Busting. Like it gets him going SO HARD (pun intended) Like omg… Especially if you praise his efforts/ how good he’s doing. Pray that you’ll be able to walk after.

- This man is LOUD…… grunting, whimpering, moaning, panting. Any noise you can think of hes made it. Like he doesn’t even think of suppressing his noises. He also doesn’t want you to either! He loves hearing you. He thinks the louder you are = the better he’s doing. So please don’t suppress your noises he’ll get so sad:(. But back to the topic. This man needs something to muffle him. Wether that be kissing you, or lightly nibbling your neck. When he starts to get to loud you need to find a way to shut him up.

-Speaking of loud Swansea has definitely caught you guys once’s. Y’all were a bit to loud and he was wonder what was going on and… Let’s just say he wasn’t able to look at you guys for a bit. But after he gave Daisuke a fist bump. Man to man🗣️🗣️🗣️

- Daisuke is willing to try almost everything. I full heartedly believe this man is a virgin. The furthest he’s ever gone is making out. So he’s eager to learn! He was a bit nervous your guys first time. But after a bit that nervousness dissolved into eagerness! I don’t think he’d be into hurting you badly. And I don’t think he likes pain that much either. But I think he would like his hair being pulled. Or maybe you lightly scratching his back.

- I think he would be open to having sex not just in your rooms. Either in random room barely used. Or a couple of times on the couch when everyone was in their sleeping quarters. Thankfully you guys weren’t caught!!! But Curly was wondering what that clear sticky substances was on the couch…

-(AFAB) Munch no question asked. LISTEN WHEN I SAW HE WANTED AN EXTRA PACK OF SWEETENER I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT BIG BACK MUNCH BEHAVIOR. Also because this man loves to please. DO YALL SEE ME VISION. This man who’ll slurp it up like no tomorrow. His favorite made is your pleasure is his pleasure. But omg like he gets so into eating you out it’s not even funny… You have to pry his face away from your core. And he looks so hot. His hair a mess. His eyes dazed but still has that love in them. And your juice all over his face like…

- He doesn’t have a favorite position. He likes way too many. And when you asked him what position he liked the most, he only responded with, “how can I pick a favorite when there all so good, and what about the ones we haven’t tried yet!” Safe to say you guys went to go try some more positions 😜

- I know I’ve been doing really freaky headcanons but I think Daisuke loves soft sex and morning sexy to. Maybe the morning after a bad day HES still feeling bad. You both are still groggy but you have time before you have to get up. Hell sink himself into. Before thrusting as his arms are wrapped around your waist. His hot breath on your neck, as he trailed kisses all along it. Just because he can be a freak doesn’t mean he can’t be really soft either.

- Daisuke loves cock warming. Try. Try to prove me wrong. He loves cuddling. He loves being as close to you as possible. What’s better than combining the two! But after a bit he does get a bit impatient and starts to subtly thrust. He really is trying to not to be you feel to good!

Authors note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I STARTED THIS WHEN I GOT HOME AND FELL ASLEEP MID WAY THROUGH WRITING THIS. Again sorry for request being slow I’m trying my best😭🙏

[milksnake-tea]

━━ fear not the road untaken .

Sunday hadn't spent long with the Stellaron Hunters before boarding the Express, but the memories he'd made with them were priceless. One quiet day in the Express's cabin, while reflecting on his experiences with the Hunters, you appear to visit him.

astral express!sunday x gn!stellaronhunter!reader

contains: sunday used to be a stellaron hunter, teasing, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IVE WRITTEN SO FAR, SUNDAY IS DOWN BADDDD AS HE DESERVES TO BE BITES FIST I MISSED THIS SO BADDDDD, not established relationship sunday just has a massive crush on you

word count: 2.06k

a/n: happy drip marketing yall. you all get a sunday fluff piece. as a treat. also yes i am completely and totally sane. (THIS IS THE MOST SELF INDULGENT FIC IVE EVER WRITTEN I AM SO SORRY GUYS)

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo

“Sunday, we’re going out to Belobog for a bit. Wanna come with?”

Heeled boots still in the midst of a step. Feather-like hair shifts and tousles as he turns his head. At the invitation, gold melts, sapphires glitter, and a gentle smile warms his lips.

March is a blessing, he thinks. She is bubbly, kind, and always manages to light up whatever room she steps into - in that regard, she is not too unlike his beloved sister. Although her ability to plan ahead leaves much room for improvement, he cannot deny that it was her presence that made his transition into a Nameless much easier than it would’ve been.

Although, truthfully, he’d expected more resistance from her - out of everyone, she seemed to be the most traumatized by the Charmony Festival Disaster, and she also had more of a distaste for Stellaron Hunters than the others. But surprisingly, she’d come around to him, and welcomed him into the Express with open arms - and a lot of food. He swears, every time she’s come back from a trip, it’s another sweet or drink shoved into his arms - not that he’s complaining, though.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he begins, then rests a hand over his chest as a reflex. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse. The last expedition has left me rather exhausted - and as you know, I don’t fare well in cold weather.”

Dan Heng nods in understanding. He’s never been a man of many words, and for that Sunday appreciates him. He rather likes straight-forward people, who aren’t afraid to say their mind - perhaps that’s why he’s grown to adore both the Express and the Hunters so much.

“Is there anything you want us to bring back?” pipes up the Trailblazer, dog-like eyes shining as they lean over March. “Like, sweets or whatever?”

Sunday bites back a chuckle. Somehow, word had gotten around that Sunday had quite the sweet tooth. He doesn’t know who started it or how they found out (he has his suspicions on March), but ever since the trio has been dragging him around to various planets and encouraging him to try the local desserts.

He wonders if he’s gotten cavities yet. He hopes not.

Maybe he should check again, at a later time.

“That Rye Bread Iceberg you brought last time was rather enjoyable. I’d like to try it again.”

March and the Trailblazer brighten at his words. “Okay, on it!”

Dan Heng only hums his acknowledgement before turning to leave the parlor car. “Let’s go,” he advises the others. “You know Seele doesn’t like to wait.”

Sunday has never personally met this Seele (the Trailblazer describes her as a crass but kind-hearted warrior), but her fury is enough to whip both March and the Trailblazer into shape. It isn’t long before the trio is waving him goodbye as they descend into the frozen planet, and he also bids them farewell.

And then it is just him, and the conductor.

A small sigh leaves him as he sits down on one of the many couches. He wasn’t lying when he said he was exhausted. Fighting - or any physical activity, for that matter - isn’t exactly his strong suit. Even during his time with the Hunters, he’d stayed behind the front lines, acting as a pseudo Kafka with his carefully crafted words and tuning abilities.

That’s one of the few things about the Hunters that he prefers over the Express - they didn’t force him to hike through deserts and jungles and mountains and Xipe knows what else. All they did was throw him off a skyscraper in the name of the script (he’s pretty sure Elio just wanted to see if he’d actually fly or not).

Sunday blinks, realizing just what had just passed through his mind. Then he sighs with a smile, leaning back into the red plush of the couches.

Only a few months since his fall, and he’s already beginning to think as weirdly as the rest of them.

“Sunday, are you alright?”

Sunday glances down to see the conductor waddling by his feet.

Pom Pom is… strange, no doubt - for whatever reason, Dan Heng fears them and has advised Sunday to not anger them at all costs. Their past is shrouded in mystery, but Sunday finds himself drawn to the conductor. Perhaps living most of his life in a fever dream like Penacony has warped his perception of what is normal and what is not.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He shifts on the couch to make room, but the conductor shakes their head.

“Are you sure? Pom Pom saw you laughing to yourself,” they fret, tapping their nubby hands together anxiously. “Have you been sleeping enough?”

Sunday crosses one leg over the other, and rests his hands over his knee. “If you’re concerned about my transition from Penacony to reality, be at ease. The Hunters have practically beat a proper sleep schedule into me.”

Pom Pom yelps in shock. “B-Beat?! They beat you?”

“Not literally,” Sunday hastes, instinctively reaching out a hand to calm the conductor. “It was more akin to… ominously threatening checkups. Although, there was this one time-”

He sees the look on Pom Pom’s face, and decides to stop it there. He fears they might break out sobbing if he continues.

“Nevertheless, rest assured that I am sleeping at an appropriate time,” he finishes reassuringly. His practiced smile pays off as the conductor gradually calms down, albeit worry about the Hunters’ methods still lingers.

“Alright, if you say so, Sunday.” They look around uneasily. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Sunday waves his hands hastily. “No, I am alright, thank you-”

“He’ll have some tea.”

Pom Pom jumps with a shriek and Sunday’s wings puff up. A familiar laugh ghosts his ear, and immediately Sunday’s face brightens.

“What- What are you doing here?!” Pom Pom quickly hides behind one of Sunday’s slender legs, hugging it like a lifeline. Sunday places a hand on their head to calm them as he turns to the hologram with a warm smile.

“At ease, conductor, they’re a friend.”

Your holographic form glitches in and out of reality. There’s a thin blue filter over your appearance, but other than that, everything is the same as he remembers.

“Hey, angel,” you coo, leaning your elbow on his shoulder as you sit besides him. Its weight is not the same as it would be in reality, but the presence is enough - a small, barely noticeable tingle that has his heart fluttering and his wings following in suit. “How’s life as Nameless? Do you miss us yet?”

Sunday laughs gently. “It has only been two weeks since I left the Hunters. I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to miss you all.”

You pout playfully, sticking out your tongue.Even though parts of you chip away and reappear, and your form isn’t stable, Sunday can’t help but be as captivated by you as he was when he was still among the Hunters’ ranks. Where the projection fails, his tinted memory fills in.

“Silver Wolf misses you, although I doubt she’d actually say it,” you say, taking a lock of his hair and twirling it around your finger. “Has she visited you yet?”

Sunday stutters a bit before weakly batting your finger away with his wing. “No, I’m afraid she hasn’t.”

“Hm.” You smile at his attempt to brush you off. Letting go of his hair, you instead opt to tug lightly at his cheek, earning a squeak from the Halovian. “That’s weird. Maybe she was too shy to speak up.”

“I-” Sunday rubs his cheek when you finally let go. Embarrassingly, his wings jump to shield his face, an unfortunate reflex he’d yet to curb. “I suppose she was…”

He hears you hum, and he lifts a wing to peek at you. His cheeks feel hot - no, that’s an understatement, the entirety of his body feels as if he’s in a fireplace.

“Give her my regards,” he finally breathes out, thanking the Aeons for his training in keeping his composure. Sure, it ultimately fails whenever he looks at you, but at least he’s able to fix himself quickly enough… or at least, he hopes that’s what it looks like.

“You didn’t answer my question though.” Propping your elbow on his shoulder again, you rest your cheek in your palm. “How’s the Nameless life treating you?”

“It’s chaotic,” Sunday admits with a fond sigh. He relaxes into the couch once more, feeling himself sink into the plush. Briefly, he’s tempted to lean his head on your shoulder, but given that you’re a holograph, he holds himself back. “But it’s fun. The Nameless have been kind, and the planets I’ve visited… It’s nice, to see the universe as someone other than a wanted criminal.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

Sunday would apologize, but considering that it’s you he’s talking to, he doesn’t feel the need to. After all, you’ve said worse to him, and him to you.

“You know what I mean,” he chuckles. “To be honest, though, the Express and the Hunters aren’t so different.”

He hears Pom Pom squawk indignantly, and again he ruffles their fur to calm them. Turning ever so slightly to your hologram, he gazes at you with adoration and fondness swelling his heart.

“To the both of you, I am forever grateful. If it weren’t for your kindness, I’d be rotting away in an alley somewhere. I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

All distaste for the Hunters fades from Pom Pom as they giggle bashfully. “Aw, Sunday… You don’t have to thank us. We were just doing what the Nameless do.”

You nod in agreement, reaching through his wing and poking his cheek again. “Conductor’s right. No need for thanks, birdie.”

“Still-” Sunday makes a sound like a startled bird as you poke his cheek harder, squishing it against the rest of his face. Underneath his coat, his primary wings strain with the urge to flutter and twitch, while his secondary wings are held back by sheer willpower. The only sign that they want to flap so badly is with the tiniest of tremors.

“None of that,” you chide him gently, tapping him lightly on the plush of his lips. “We’re just glad you’re happy - right, bunny?”

“Who’re you calling bunny?!” Pom Pom protests, steam puffing out of their head while steam threatens to escape Sunday’s face for completely different reasons.

Before you can reply, however, your form begins to glitch out, flickering in and out of reality at a higher frequency. With an annoyed click of your tongue, you stand up.

“Looks like Silver Wolf isn’t happy,” you comment, brushing off imaginary dust from your clothes. Taking one step so that you’re fully in front of Sunday, you lean in so that your projected nose barely brushes against his. “I have to get going now. You have my number, so text me if you need anything, okay? Or if you want to catch me up with your travels, you can always call me.”

Sunday’s voice feels lodged in his throat. With a subtle gulp, his Adam’s Apple bobbing ever so slightly, he manages to speak with an even voice.

“Okay,” he whispers, his voice almost a whimper. He wants to explode.

You smile fondly, and duck in to peck at the corner of his lips. The buzzing of your holograph morphs into electrifying lightning, surging into his veins, puffing up his feathers and making all of his hairs stand up and sending his already tapping heart into a frenzy. His body freezes into a statue, and all coherent thoughts melt away into a haze that is both ecstatic and shocked.

By the time you pull away, his wings are flapping erratically and his entire body is dyed in a rosey red. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, but all words die on his tongue and he is left blabbering like a fool.

You laugh again, eyes crinkling so beautifully he swears he’s ascended.

“If that’s how you react, I wonder how cute you’ll be when it’s the real deal.”

And then you’re gone, vanishing like a sweet dream in a flurry of pixels, leaving Sunday there to dazedly touch his lips, and then where you’d kissed him.

And then he smiles, giddily, and his halo practically glows as soft, love-stricken giggles begin to leave him.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[mvth3r]

daryl doesn’t think he’s anything special. he never has. but to you? he’s everything.

or

5 times daryl feels your affection down to his core and the many 1 time he unconsciously returns the favor.

cw: 18+ MDNI, p-in-v, mention of injury, swearing, mostly fluff, 4283 words

a/n: this draft got the most votes in the poll, which was surprising tbh! next up medieval au, princess reader, forbidden romance?? hmmmm

one.

daryl hears you coming before he sees you. he knows it’s on purpose, so you don’t startle him (“and get an arrow in the tit or something, i don’t know!” you had explained, laughing). he’s long since taught you how to be quiet when walking over leaves and branches.

his eyes drifted in the direction of the noise, watching you melt out of the trees, water bottle in one hand and knife in the other. you had a bad habit of speeding through or ignoring your own duties in favor of tracking him out into the woods while he was hunting. the teasing looks from rick and carol when they saw the gates open in the evening, revealing the two of you instead of just him, were enough to have him blushing up to his ears, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop you. if anything, daryl found himself lingering closer to the prison when he was first setting out for the day and making his tracks a little easier for you to follow as he went on. he liked to think of it as a teaching moment, encouraging you to follow his lessons, but he knew what it really was.

he liked having you here with him, away from prying eyes and ears. daryl wasn’t big on pda, he’d never been, and you knew that, but you could be as affectionate as you wanted out here.

the smile that split you face when you saw daryl was blinding, creasing your eyes and cheeks, “hey, handsome.”

daryl felt his heart start to pound immediately in his chest and warmth radiate through his belly and down his limbs. he had the distant, bizarre thought that any walker for a few miles would probably be able to smell his blood as it rose rapidly to his face, coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

he scoffed quietly to keep the words he really wanted to say from spilling unbidden from his throat as you caught up to him, instead deadpanning, “handsome? really?”

you hummed, raising a hand to card through his long bangs, eyes tender when they met his, “mhm, very handsome. don’t i tell you every day?”

you leaned up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, no longer than a moment. you hand drifted from his hair down to cup his jaw as you did, and daryl found himself leaning into your palm, his own hand coming up to grip your wrist loosely.

you pulled away with a smaller, more intimate smile, one that daryl had only ever seen directed at him. and, if you had felt the pounding of his heart through his shirt or seen the intensity of his flush, you didn’t say a word.

two.

daryl was distracted.

this council meeting was dragging on much longer than intended. what was initially supposed to be a quick conversation about planning a run to get supplies for judith and a few of the other kids had turned into a heated debate about possibly opening up the council to a few of the people from woodbury. he could understand why. there was still a stark divide between their group and the new people, but daryl had been content to sit back and let the situation mend itself, so long as it didn't escalate.

the discussion was split down the middle. or.. maybe there were more in favor of maintaining the current council? daryl couldn’t tell because he couldn’t focus and he couldn’t focus because every time he tried to lock in on the conversation, he could feel your fingers brush over his knuckles.

earlier, when the meeting started, you had sat yourself right next to daryl, reached under the table, and grabbed his hand where it was resting on his knee. no fanfare, no lovesick gazes, just your fingers intertwined with his calloused ones like they belonged there. which, he mused to himself, maybe they do.

and so there your hand had remained as the meeting went on. every so often, you would brush your fingers lightly over his knuckles, or give his fingers a squeeze if you happened to catch his eyes… which would lead to you chuckling quietly to yourself when his neutral expression would warm over with a blush.

the meeting had been going on for at least an hour. god.

“daryl, what do you think?”

glenn’s voice cut through daryl’s thoughts like a knife. he jerked a little, almost dislodging your hand when he looked across the table, meeting the expectant stares of the council.

“uhh,” he grunted eloquently, “‘bout bringin’ some of them folks on?”

hershel nodded expectantly, his voice thoughtful, “don’t you think we could afford their input? after all, this is their home now just as much as it is ours.”

your fingers brushed again over his knuckles and daryl willed himself not to lose focus. not to allow his mind to run on with thoughts about the softness of your fingers and how much he liked the feeling of your palm against his. how comfortable-

no.

daryl blinked and cleared his throat, “we don’ even have rick on the council right now, i’on think it’s a good idea.”

glenn nodded along with maggie and, reluctantly a moment later, hershel did too, though his mouth had settled into a thin frown.

daryl felt your hand squeeze his twice, taking it as a nonverbal ‘good job!’, and paused only a moment before squeezing back his own nonverbal ‘thank you’. he saw a small smile flit across your face out the corner of his eye.

before the debate could start up again, you were leaning forward and speaking up, saying, “alright, let’s table this for next time then. the run is already planned for the baby stuff, so—?”

hershel’s eyes swept across the table and he nodded, “meeting adjourned, i suppose.”

three.

the woods were clear as daryl looked out over the gate. he could see everything from the watchtower, as was intended, but for once the calm darkness was not a comfort.

instead, every moment that passed heightened the panic that had been swirling in his gut since earlier that evening.

it had been roughly fourteen hours since you had left on a run with glenn and maggie. there was a small gas station a little ways out that looked to be mostly untouched, and you had been pulled to fill in daryl’s usual slot since he was already slated to go hunting.

he was regretting it now, though, as he continued to watch the road leading up to the gate for any sign of maggie’s headlights.

while the general rule of thumb was to be back to the prison before dark, everyone knew that sometimes shit happens, whether it be walkers appearing at the worst possible time, or not being able to secure the haul. hell, shit happened more often than it didn't, as far as daryl was concerned.

maybe the haul had been much larger than the three of you had planned for, and you had to hide some of it away for a return trip.

maybe y'all had come across a herd large enough to block the car's path and had to find a way around it to get home without leading them back behind you.

maybe the gas station had been a bust all together and you’d gone further out in hopes of not returning empty handed.

the thoughts swimming through his mind sent daryl pacing across the small area of the watchtower. back and forth he went, eyes flashing over to the gate of the prison every few seconds.

“you’re gonna wear out your shoes like that.”

oh right. daryl isn’t even on watch, not officially at least. he’d joined carol a little after the sun went down and been up here ever since.

carol continues on despite his brooding silence, “they’re okay. something probably held them up, it happens.”

daryl turned to face carol, scrubbing a hand down his face. he opening his mouth to respond, but before he could, the sound of wheels crunching across gravel made him whip back around.

he barely registered that it was maggie’s car before he was yanking the floor hatch open and climbing down. rick, who’d been poking around the farm despite the late hour, unwilling to admit his own anxiety, was already pulling the gate open to let the car in.

daryl stopped further up the hill to meet you, and, as soon as you popped the lock on your door, he was tugging it open with one hand and reaching for you with the other.

you went willingly, a sheepish smile on your face as you let him turn you this way and that, checking for any injuries or bites, neither of which you had.

“sorry i’m late, handsome,” you whispered, “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

daryl grunted in response, resisting the urge to press himself against you and feel your heart beat against his skin. he understood that you were capable, and that you had lasted just as long in the apocalypse as he had, but he can't help but wonder if he'll ever get used to this, or if he'll spend any moment you aren't within his reach on the edge of a panic attack.

by then, rick had made his way up the hill to the car and was helping unload their findings from the boot. all things considered, the three of you had brought back a pretty decent amount of stuff.

“everyone alright?” rick questioned, eyes skirting over the contents of the trunk to scan the three of you instead. "what held y'all up?"

maggie shook her head with a smile, “nothing like that. we found a good bit at that gas station, but there was a map of a small trailer park a little ways away, and we thought it was better to go for it while we were right down the road.”

“and we had the space anyway. didn’t make sense to waste a second trip, but it took a little longer to search than we thought,” you added. you had turned to face the group and, under the cover of the dark, you leaned back just slightly into daryl’s side.

carol, who had followed daryl down from the watchtower, hummed, and rick nodded thoughtfully. they both followed behind maggie and glenn, grabbing as much as they could carry from the car and heading up to deposit it for sorting tomorrow.

now alone, daryl took a moment to breathe you in, but he was moving soon as well, heading for the trunk to grab what was left.

he didn’t notice you coming up next to him until he felt your fingers slipping into his pocket.

“found something for you,” you said quietly, standing at his side.

daryl patted his pocket, feeling the dented box of what he assumed to be cigarettes and looked over at you, brows furrowed in confusion.

“i noticed you ran out the other day,” you answered his unasked question, a small smile lifting your cheeks, “combed through every trailer looking for ‘em.”

with that, you turned away from him and back to the trunk.

daryl stood speechless, his heart building up to that rapid thrum he only seemed to feel in your presence.

you had brought something back for him. had spent the daylight rummaging through dirty trailers on the off chance that you’d find a pack of cigarettes to replace his empty one that he himself hadn't even bothered to go searching to replace.

he wanted to think he didn’t understand why you would do something like this, why you would care, but he did. he’d done the same for you, time and time again on the road, if only to see you smile. he understood exactly why.

“‘preciate it,” he grunted, thankful that the darkness surrounding you kept his blush from being too obvious.

you hummed in acknowledgment, and daryl could your small smile growing out the corner of his eye.

four.

having sex in the prison was no easy feat, mostly due to the lack of privacy. a sheet could only provide so much, and even then it did nothing for the noise echoing constantly off the concrete walls.

as far as most were concerned, maggie and glenn had found the best spot early on, making the most unused watchtower their designated private retreat, but you and daryl knew otherwise.

deep in the tombs, which were no longer a threat as they had long since been cleared and sealed, there were a few tucked away offices that had sat empty even after the woodbury residents had been moved in. noise didn’t escape the tombs, and no one ever just wandered in, especially not in the middle of the night, so despite the cell that you and daryl shared, you both much preferred spending your more intimate moments here.

well, daryl did. you weren’t picky, and could be quiet when you really tried, but it made daryl more comfortable.

he’d like to think it was just because he was wary of any listening ears, especially with all the children roaming around, but he knew the truth of his resolve.

daryl had never been a selfish man, and certainly not after the world fell. everything he had, everything he was, he would give to his family in a heartbeat.

but this.. this was just for him.

your body arched beautifully under his, legs falling open to accommodate his weight settling against you. daryl’s hand left your heat, fingers dripping with wetness, to squeeze your hips, using them to guide you as your moved against him.

you were already bare, both of you having stripped each other of your clothes between heated kisses while you stumbled in the office. you hadn’t even made it to the double-stacked cot in the corner, daryl instead pushing you firmly down on the dusty desk and leaning in to mouth at your neck.

you moaned under him now, a breathy sigh of his name, and the sound sent a shiver down daryl’s spine.

“needy girl,” he grunted teasingly, reaching down to grasp his hardness. he dragged the head of his cock up your slit, collecting your wetness and smearing it over your clit.

your head knocked back against the desk and a loud groan burst out of your throat. your knees tried to close around daryl’s waist as if to keep him away, but you arms came up to wrap around him, pulling him closer to your body, and he leaned into you willingly.

your voice trembled when you spoke into his ear, want dripping from every syllable, “please, baby. need you inside me so bad.”

and god, daryl wanted to make you beg for it. he wanted to wait until he could see the desperation in your eyes and then wait some more, but he couldn’t. not when you looked so pretty spread out beneath him and your hands were petting over his shoulders and neck just how he liked. he almost thought you were doing it on purpose, but he knew better. this was just you.

you couldn’t stay off him when he was in you, always tugging at his hair or rubbing his chest, hands scrabbling for any skin you could reach. it used to send him reeling, flustered and blushing bright, but now he looked forward to it. he could feel the want in your touches like physical imprints of your affection.

daryl pushed into your slowly, groaning deep in his chest. your slick walls felt heavenly around him, but daryl was more focused on you right now.

soft whimpers fell from your lips as your hands drifted over his sweat slicked skin. daryl’s thrusts were slow but purposeful, and he ignored your legs squeezing around his waist, trying to urge him to speed up.

“relax, peach,” he soothed, hands drifting up and down your sides in pace with his thrusts, “i’ma take care of you.”

“kiss, please,” you whispered, voice floating past daryl’s ear. he would have missed it if you weren’t pressed together like this.

daryl would not describe himself as a selfish man. he might have had his moments in the past, but now, with the dead walking and a prison full of survivors to protect, it was virtually out of the question.

but as he leaned down to press his lips to yours, feeling your hands finally make their way up into his long strands, daryl thought that he might be a possessive man.

he’d sooner spread you out deep in the woods than have you where anyone could see you like this or hear the noises you make.

no, daryl thought, tongue sliding in your mouth to tangle with yours, this would always be just for him.

five.

daryl came into awareness slowly and then all at once. he startled, trying to sit up, but a searing pain made itself known in his abdomen. the pain clouded his senses, blooming out across his torso and down his limbs. he flops uselessly, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of him.

hearing bits of voices above him, daryl wills himself to focus. he’s hurt, obviously, and it’s pretty fucking bad, but he’ll have to suck it up and figure out a way home if he’s in bad company.

the voices start to filter in. the volume makes his temples throb in rhythm with his abdomen and his heart as the situation starts to force adrenaline through his body.

“—harder! put more pressure on it!”

daryl relaxes just a bit. that’s rick. frantic, angry, but rick all the same.

“what the fuck do you think i’m doing?!” the other voice, higher, snarls in response, “just drive the damn truck!”

and daryl feels his body try to relax all together. he would recognize your voice in his sleep, and this milky haze of pain is no different. he can feel your hands pressing a wad of something soft into his abdomen.

he can hear your panicked breaths and feel the way your fingers flex continuously against his skin. whatever’s wrong with him must be bad, and it definitely hurts like hell, but daryl takes comfort in the weight of your body against his. you won’t let anything happen to him if you can help it, you’d sworn that fiercely, and if you can’t help it then he doesn’t think anyone could have.

daryl can just barely make out the creaking of the gate being pulled open over the sound of rick laying on the horn.

as they pull in, the gravel of the path rocks the truck and daryl feels the ache in his abdomen bloom again, distracting him from his thoughts, but here, knowing he’s safe and back with his family, he allows himself to drift away.

—

this time, when daryl comes into awareness, the first thing he feels is fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently as if to untangle a couple of knots and snarls.

without even opening his eyes he knows it’s you. he can feel the heat of your body settled next to him and smell the soap you like to bathe with. daryl leans towards you, chasing the warmth of your hand against his skin.

the bandages on his stomach are wrapped tight, but it’s more annoying than anything and the pain has finally, thankfully, subsided to a dull ache. daryl stretches on the cot, trying to loosen him limbs from their inactivity, but what he focuses on is your fingers immediately pulling away.

“daryl?” your voice prods quietly, “you awake?”

he opens his eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight that streams through the bars of the cell. the privacy sheet isn’t down, actually there’s no sheet at all, daryl notes as he looks out. he must be in one of the cells near hershel’s.

“‘m up,” he grumbles, a cough working its way out of his throat. before he can attempt to clear the dryness, you’re standing to grab a bottle of water off some boxes stacked nearby and pressing it into his hand.

your fingers linger against his wrist as you pull away, but you’re resuming your previous position anyway, in a chair brought right up to his bedside.

daryl hasn’t sat up yet, staring instead at you as one of your hands return to his hair and the other rubs down his arm.

a few quiet moments pass before you speak again, head bowed and voice a little choked, “we almost lost you. i almost lost you.”

“didn’t though,” daryl croaks. he feels your grip tighten on his arm and just knows. knows that you’ve been sitting right here every moment that you could since he went down. knows that you probably haven’t had your hands off him. knows you’ve spent the time, however long it’s been, agonizing over what went wrong and how to keep it from happening ever again. he knows.

“i didn’t,” you agree with a barely restrained sniffle. you refuse to allow the tears beading your waterline to fall, but daryl sees them all the same.

oddly, he feels that familiar warmth blossom in his chest. he hates to see you upset, but to see your love, your heart laid so bare for him? daryl thinks he can finally understand the depth of your affections.

plus one.

to anybody who knew what to look for, it was obvious that you and daryl were.. something.

you remembered when the woodbury residents had really began to settle in, how they began to whisper about ‘the hunter and his lady’.

it had confused you at first. the group knew, of course, nothing could be kept a secret from them for too long, but for strangers? it was odd, given that you weren’t very public with your affections.

regardless, with an entire prison to secure and almost triple the amount of people to provide for, it was nothing to think too hard about. there was always something that needed to be done or something bigger to think about. you couldn't afford to think about it now.

eventually, though, you ended up mentioning it to carol, and the older woman had laughed, a teasing edge to her smile as she considered you.

“i think it has less to do with you and more with him, if i’m being honest,” she said.

“more to do with.. daryl?” you said slowly, raising an incredulous eyebrow, “nah, no way.”

carol hummed, her smile turning knowing, “just watch. he’s more affectionate than he gives himself credit for.”

you’d left the conversation feeling like carol had no idea what she was talking about. later that evening, though, when you were sitting with the group for dinner and daryl was sliding a couple pieces of meat from his plate to yours despite your multiple protests, you understood.

your face must have been the textbook picture of a lightbulb going off because carol sent you a wink from across the table, lips twitching like she was hiding a laugh.

it wasn’t that the woodbury residents were over analyzing the very minimal physical affection that passed between you and daryl in a day, no. instead they were observing his quieter, more unconscious actions.

they saw the way that daryl always took care to come and find you before leaving for a run, even if it meant holding everyone up a little.

and how every so often they could find daryl sharpening a knife that was far too small for him to be wielding safely while you sat nearby, watching with a grateful smile.

and how whenever you were in the same room, you always had his eye. daryl had been adamant about keeping you within his sights while you were on the road, and the habit hadn’t left him just because you were behind walls now.

even now, months later, the newer additions to the prison were starting to catch on quicker and quicker.

they overheard daryl talking to glenn about taking your place on the run later today because you’d overdone it in the sun earlier and he wanted you to get some rest.

they saw you gush excitedly every time daryl brought you back any kind of gift, whether it be a pretty rock that he thought you’d like, or your favorite animal to cook into the stew.

they watched him watch the road every time you left for a run, regardless of who was with you, and also saw him come back to be the first to greet you when you returned if he could help it.

daryl was a quiet lover and a private man if you didn’t know what to look for, but if you did, you’d see that his affections ran just as deep as yours.

your thoughts brought a sleep smile to your face as you stretched out on the cot in your shared cell, waiting for daryl to shut off the lantern on your makeshift nightstand in the corner.

you could barely make him out in the dark, but the weight of him settling in next to you sent you right into his arms, your head pillowed on his chest while his arms came up to wrap around your back.

you tilted your head up to place a small kiss to the bottom of his jaw, mumbling a quiet, “love you.”

daryl’s arms tightened around you momentarily before loosening again. you felt him lean down to press a kiss to your hair in turn.

just over the steady thumping of his heart against your ear, you could hear him whisper back, “love you too.”

[elssero]

seven minutes in… heaven?

k.bakugo

♰ nsfw/suggestive, third year bakugo x f!reader, dry humping..? both characters are drunk but fully consent!

evanescence blasts through your phone as you do the final finishing details of your makeup, your cutting the crease of your liner while jirou sat next to you clips some of her hair back with the little music note hair piece you had picked up for her last week. your excited for tonight, it’s been awhile since the whole class of 3A had gotten together like this.

it’s a celebratory party for the end of a month long project you had all been putting all of your time and effort into, so much so to the point that nobody had really spent any time together, so to say that everyone was bubbling with anticipation was an understatement.

well everyone except bakugo of course, according to jirou he had been grumbling all week about this stupid party and how he’s being forced to go by stupid kirishima because of some stupid bet he lost last month. apparently he’d much rather stay in his room all night and pop a couple sleeping pills to ensure he wasn’t involved in the the night at all.

he just hates parties, he doesn’t understand why something so small as finishing a project deserves an entire class get together. he would much rather have a small, controlled hang out with the close group of friends he’d found himself growing fond of over the past few years.

you, of course ignore his complaints because the only word to describe how your feeling right now is ecstatic, it’s no surprise to anyone that you loved a good party and seeing that you had worked extra hard on this particular project you felt as though you owed it to yourself to let a little loose.

after deciding you are completely happy with the way you look and having taken a shot of some pre-drink with jirou, you link the girls arm and leave your dorm, you make your way to the common room arm and arm with the increasingly nervous girl beside you, you whisper a few encouraging words as you continue to lead her to, you can see that people have already started gathering, drinks in hand.

you decide for jirous sake to make a b-line to mina, kaminari and sero who are slumped together on one of the couches around the room.

mina wastes no time pulling you both into a hug “you both look amazing! ah- i can’t im so excited we’re all here tonight!” you can tell she’s already tipsy by the way she slightly stutters and her voice raises at the end of her sentences.

you hug her back just as excitedly, you love mina, she shares your excitement for the little things and you can’t help but feel drawn to her because of that, it’s clear to everyone around you that you two were just made to be friends.

kami gets up next, he throws a lazy arm around jirous shoulder and compliments you both on your outfits of choice, you can’t help but chuckle a little at his behaviour, he’s always been a bit of flirt, especially with jirou, you can’t help but smile at the sight when jirou leans into his hold slightly.

sero, now stood directly in front of you pulls you into tight hug, seros a close friend, if anything probably your closest after mina and jirou and definitely the person your physically closest with. he is your friend and definitely only that, despite the looks that your weirdly physically close relationship gets from your classmates, but the line at least in your head is definitely drawn and you don’t dare cross it.

you mingle for abit, finishing off your first drink and eagerly getting your second, your sat in a circle now with most of your class, some sat on the floor and some sat on furniture, you’ve somehow ended up in a full class discussion despite the buzz that fills the room. your listening to the class debate their most embarrassing moments when a loud but cheery voice drags another loud but not so cheery voice into the room.

“hey everyone! sorry we’re late it seems that bakugo had forgotten about tonight” kirishima grins as bakugo starts mumbling incoherent complaints. “but alas, no worries as i made sure to remind him!” kirishima continues to ignore bakugos clearly sour mood as he pulls the blond to sit across from you and sero, who’s now drunken head is now resting on your shoulder, they would definitely be sat next to you guys but kirishima doesn’t wish to disturb the circle so he takes the only free place.

people exclaim welcomes as you smile at the red head, he sends a smile back and a quick look at sero who seems to be making himself pretty comfortable pressed up against you. bakugo doesn’t even lift his head while he sits down, it’s clear he wishes for this party to be over just as quickly as it can start.

“let’s play a game!” it comes from uraraka in the corner as she leans into the center of the circle to get everyone’s attention. “oh yeah? what do you suppose we play?” midoriya this time, slurring, who’s clearly a little drunker than he should be seeing as your only an hour or so into the get together. denki cheers out in the corner and catches everyone’s attention as he quickly finishes his beer and places it in the middle of the circle. “we’re playing seven minutes in heaven.” a wide smirk on his face as he watches everyone agree, you’d maybe think he’d be suggesting this is a way for him to get some but you disagree, you know kami lives for drama and a game like this is surely to brew some up.

people settle into positions and sero finally raises his head from the crook of your neck, you know he’s a merchant of drama and he seems to agree this some in definitely incoming as he awaits the first spin.

tsu goes first as peer pressured by her friends and lands on uraraka, you see a small blush appear on the brunettes features and you wish them good luck as mina shuts the closet door behind them, your all warily keeping it down a little, making little jabs at one another and chuckle quietly, you hear a giggle from the closest and you all burst into laughter, unable to keep quiet anymore as you let the girls finish their 7 minutes.

your unable to remember who goes next but it was surely insignificant, you can feel the alcohol now at your forgetfulness, you join conversation with your friends and await the next spin as the pair who you now see is momo and shinsou leave the closet calmly, it’s clear to everyone that nothing of interest happened which only proves a suspicion you’ve had about momo for awhile, whatever though it’s not your business.

very suddenly and very much to your surprise mina edges you forward to spin the bottle next, your not really sure why, it’s not like your dying to get some, infact your doing pretty well for yourself so her eagerness for you to spin next is unidentifiable to you but alas you don’t argue and you shift, almost crawling on all floors to reach the bottle and spin it harshly, watching as it continues to go round and round.

when it’s completely slowed down you follow the tip of the bottle and realise it’s pointing directly in front of you, you continue to look up and you lock eyes with a shocked pair of red ones. without thinking you stand up and hold a want out too him to help him up. he looks up at you in only complete shock as he grits out “i’m not fuckin’ doing this shit, didn’t fuckin agree to it” you don’t falter, now used to his attitude “what are you scared bakugo? the great katsuki bakugo scared of seven minutes alone with me?”

he gapes at you, jaw dropped and he falters for a second. maybe he is scared. he contemplates for a second before grabbing your hand and letting you help him up, he follows as you guide him into the closet and shut the door behind you.

he huffs at the proximity between you, he’s always been huge but the past few months you can tell he’s been bulking up even more, if that’s even possible. there’s barely enough space for the two of you, your tits are slightly pushed up against him as your back hugs the wall of the closet.

“we don’t have to do anything” you whisper out, slightly slurred due to your drink intake. “we can just chill in here if you’d rather that.” he doesn’t respond and you take a moment to observe him, his cheeks are flushed, either due to the lack of space between the two of you of the alcohol, it’s probably both.

“well it’s not like you can do anything anyway” he spits out and you give him a puzzled look “what do you mean i can’t do anything? you think m’ allergic to kissing people or something?” he chuckles slightly at that, you feel a little twinge of pride, you’ve always been able to do that, draw small chuckles out of the man in front of you. you’ve been able to lock down on what draws it out of him and being mouthy certainly seems to do the trick.

“na… y’know your with tape arms and stuff dno’ why you even came in here with me, dno’ why you even spinned that bottle” now it’s your turn to chuckle at him, did he seriously believe that you and sero were together? like an actual item? did other people believe that too? you swore up and down you’d made it very clear that was not the case. “me and sero are definitely not together” you giggle slightly as you say it, he doesn’t respond so you continue “he’s a very close friend of mine and i know we’re a little touchy but we’re definitely not seeing each other” his eyes seem to dart up to you as you finish your sentence, the words clearly settling in.

“why do you guys act like that them?” he sounds almost… defected? it’s a tone you can’t quite figure out. “m’ not sure, it just kinda happened one day and became the norm for us i guess” he lets out a slight hum and you settle into silence briefly before he speaks. ���so why-” he cuts himself off, cursing quietly before continuing “so why did you come in here with me?” he gets quieter as he continues to speak, he’s nervous. that much is entirely obvious to you even in your drunken state. you look him in the eyes when you answer him this time “well what usually happens when you entire a closet with someone during this game bakugo?” his breath seems to quicken at this and you feel his chest moving faster against your own, quickly reminding you of the contact between you two as you glance down at your tits still pushed against his chest, the sight sets a blush across your cheeks, bakugos eyes seem to follow yours as an even bigger red blush appears across his face.

“i already said before that we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want too, but that doesn’t mean i don’t want too.” you explain it too him calmly, you are not inexperienced, not in the slightest but though his actions it’s telling that bakugo may be- giving you the upper hand.

“no-“ he ushers it out quickly “no- i think- i think i want too” you watch as his blush deepens even more, it’s cute you think, nothing like how he usually is, you quite like him like this.

you take this as an opportunity to lift your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer towards you, you stop as his lips are hovering slightly above your own. “you gotta let me know if you want me to stop” he nods quickly and you take that as confirmation, you take a tight grip on his hair and force his lips down to meet your own, he immediately groans at the impact, rushing to place heavy hands on the side of your waist, wasting no time as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

your forcing your tongue down his throat and he groans again, you immediately feel him already against your thigh and you wonder how long he’s been hard like that. he kisses you like he’s starved, attempting to push himself even closer to you, it appears he’s fighting for dominance until you pull slightly on his hair and he melts into you with another noise bubbling in his throat- a whine almost exhales him and in that moment you decide your pulling a proper whine from him that night, it might be the best thing you’ve ever heard.

far too suddenly for your liking the door swings open, revealing to your entire class the compromising position you and bakugo are in, he nearly screams at the suddenly light shining in his eyes. you make eye connect with mina and her jaw drops. bakugo immediately disconnects with you and you find yourself missing his warmth. your bombarded with questions as bakugo takes your hand in his and rushes you both out the closet, ignoring the pleas from your classmates.

“party’s over for me shitty hair” bakugo shouts at kirishima, not even taking a glance in his direction as he storms you both, still hand in hand past the crowd of your classmates and towards the stairs. “you fuckers have a good time down here or whatever, we’re going up to bed.” he smirks at this, pulling you even faster through the hall.

“have a great night everyone!” you shout as you look back at your friends, they’re mouths gaping in complete shock, you send them a wink as you turn back to bakugo, speeding to catch up with him. happily following him up to his dorm. luckily for you, you’d turned around too quickly to see the defeated look on a certain black haired classmate of yours as he watches you be dragged even further away from him by a boy he knows has shared the same crush he’s had on you since your first year at ua.

AHHHH BAKUGO FIC!!! i’m considering making this a little series because i can’t get seven minutes in heaven with the mha characters out of my head. not proofread yet so if there’s mistakes then there’s mistakes!