#i desperately want to pet the prisoner | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 8 months ago

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One More? Please? - G.S.

Synopsis. A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, coworkers to lovers, being stuck in that damn box, oral (female), mutual másturbation, spitting, fáce-sítting, máting press, Satoru is down bad for you, chóking, overstim, multiple rounds, créampie, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. Happy belated two months to this blog! Concept inspired by this post by @kingkonoha.

“Maybe we should kiss and see if the box opens?”

“That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

“Hey- it works in the movies! True love’s kiss and all-”

You heave out a heavy sigh that makes even the skeleton at your shoulder shake its head in pity. Goddamn, if these curses weren’t going to kill him then you will.

“I take it back. That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

Satoru hooks a thumb over his blindfold to gaze at you with mock seriousness. Oh, how the mighty have fallen - and how you were teetering dangerously close to a stroke with each dramatic bat of his long lashes.

“C’monnn~” he whines, with the flair of someone that was not sealed in an inescapable prison, “Don’t tell me that in all these years you’ve never once been at least a little tempted to kiss me, sweetheart.”

“I’d rather kiss that dusty skull.” Shooting him a pointed look that makes even the skulls at your feet recoil. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that you were trapped. In the prison realm. With Gojo Satoru of all people. Possibly forever.

Shit, is this karma for all those times you ditched Satoru with Nanami instead of dealing with him yourself?

Now, Satoru might be going about it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but just a few minutes ago when his life flashed before his very eyes at the mere sight of Suguru - or at least, the monster wearing his body - he’d expected some of his favorite memories to be the ones with you in it.

You - his lil’ coworker - in all your gorgeous, smart-mouthed glory. And maybe if he was lucky, he even expected a couple glimpses of you in his future. Preferably with a giant rock on your finger.

But that’s a story for another time, what he certainly did not expect was for your stupidly heroic (and quite beautiful) ass to jump right in the middle of the prison realm’s ensnarement.

Although, honestly, right now he doesn’t think he’d want to be locked up in here with anyone but you - and that withering glare you send him.

Undeterred, Satoru has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. A sound you’ve come to realize over the years, as innocent as it sounds, does not bode well for you or your sanity.

A sanity that’s been slowly dwindling since your first day of meeting Satoru. Back then, a brash, cocky new teacher that waltzed into the halls of Jujutsu Tech in those pretentious sunglasses like he owned the place.

Well, not that he was any different right now. Lounging over some disgruntled skeletons, you half-expected him to pull out a deck chair and start sunbathing amidst the bones. Your begrudging coworker - and occasional bane of your existence - seemed right at home.

You, however, were decidedly not having the time of your life.

“I swear, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you grumble, wincing at the bones prodding you from almost every angle.

“Can you blame me?” he hums, now fully tugging down his blindfold to hang around his neck, “It’s not every day I get to spend quality time with my favorite person in the world.”

You scoff, strangely self-conscious as those striking blue sweep your figure from head to toe. “Lucky me. Well why don’t you spend this quality time helping me figure out how the hell we can get out of here.”

“I already told y-”

“Anything but that.”

With a sulky huff, Satoru peers down at you, “Then we just wait till someone gets us out of here. I’m sure Megumi-chan is just tearing his emo hair out trying to unseal this thing.”

“...”

“You’re absolutely correct, Yuji then. Or…” he tilts his head towards a sad pile of bones, “We end up like our little friend over there. Though I’d make a far better looking skeleton-”

You don’t hear the rest of Satoru’s rant over the small noise of concern that falls from your lips. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach at the fact that yes you really were stuck in the prison realm with Gojo Satoru. Possibly forever. And no this wasn’t some strange dream like when you and Shoko accidentally raided the wrong brownie box in the kitchen.

Shit.

And perhaps it showed on your face, because you’re jolted out of your reverie by warm fingers intertwining with yours. Grounding. Satoru’s eyes now searching yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably.

“Hey, we’ll figure this out, okay?” he mutters softly. “Remember that time we accidentally set the training ground on fire?” leaning in closer now, “Or that mission we got chased by that cursed vending machine?”

You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, and then you nearly got us killed trying to order a sweet tea. ”

Satoru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “See? It worked out, didn’t it? It always does, sweetheart.”

And if your heart does a strange little lurch, well, then you just blame it on the femur jabbing into your side.

All is quiet in your little hell. That is, until.

“Hey, Satoru…does kissing really work in the movies?”

You barely catch the way Satoru’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly as he leans in closer. eyes sparkling with mischief. And oh you knew that look - one that was usually accompanied by a lecture by Yaga, one that sent shivers down your spine. He grins, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, hm?”

Embarrassment and amusement bubbles inside you, tumbling out in the form of a barely-audible, “A peck. One.”

“Awww. Eight?”’

“No.”

“Five?”

“Satoru.”

Minty breath fanning your face, “Okay okay, one peck and a kiss to your forehead. C’mon, it’s a bargain~”

Pinching your nose, you sigh out a weary, “This is so stupid. Fine, but if it doesn’t work then I’m strangling you.”

And it’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.

Soft. Satoru’s lips were so soft. And he tasted so unfairly of caramel apples and sweet, sweet mischief. Just like him. Feather-light and fleeting - yet the kiss burns into your brain with an intensity that you strangely didn’t mind.

It’s over before you know it. The cold air hits your lips as Satoru’s words ring in your ears, a disappointed little, “Aw, that didn’t work.”

Barely even risking a glance at the still very sealed realm, your body reacts before your mind - the expensive cotton of his uniform collar soft against your fingers as you pull Satoru towards you with a sense of urgency you can’t quite explain.

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you because shit this is all that Satoru’s been dreaming about since he turned 23 and suddenly realized that oh you were frighteningly everything that he ever wanted.

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, breathless against his lips.

“Shhhh, my girl. One more. Didn’t work.”

His lips are searing on yours. Urgent and greedy, because fuck if it took getting trapped in the prison realm to finally kiss you then God knows when he’ll be able to again.

Which is why he breathes you in like he doesn’t have enough time, and probably never will - even in this godforsaken box where time never passes.

“Shit. O-one more.”

Drinking in your sweet gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were. Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to squeeze your ass - and everything in between.

Pulling away ever-so-slightly with a playful bite to your bottom lip, he leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The disappointed whine that leaves your pretty mouth makes all the blood in Satoru’s body rush to his cock.

“Sweetheart.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. “Y’think I kissed the wrong lips?”

Oh?

Satoru’s words send a jolt of electricity running down your spine - all the way down to your heated cunt. “W-what?” you managed to choke out, cheeks flaring as he raises his eyes to meet yours and-

Oh.

Oh, shit. If the curses weren’t going to kill you then Satoru sure might.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Satoru carefully jostling the two of you so that he’s lying on his back, your body manhandled to straddle his pretty face.

“Satoru, when you mean ‘wrong lips’...here?” you trail off, still reeling from him and the abrupt change in position and him.

“Exactly what I mean,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating beneath your dripping cunt. “Now, spread ‘em wider f’me. Let me taste you- Need it s’bad.”

Body moving as if on autopilot, your knees part wider to let him greedily take in the sight of your soaked panties. Beads of slick seeping through the thin fabric each time his hot breath meets your cunt.

But not for long - the cool air hits you before you realize what’s happening. Because Satoru is ripping your flimsy panties off with one hand. Throwing it behind to God-knows-where with the urgency of a madman.

“Shit, so wet f’me already.” he groans, mouth watering at the obscene sight of you clenching around nothing. “S’gorgeous. You really are perfect everywhere, huh?” he mutters through lazy, languid kisses along your thighs. Tongue darting out just so to leisurely trace circles along the heated skin.

Strong arms wrap around your thighs, the stretch nothing with the two long fingers spreading your swollen folds apart. Your face burns from just how adoring Satoru looks below you.

You buck into his touch, “Hngh- Please. Wan’ your mouth on me.”

And perhaps the great Gojo Satoru decided to be merciful for once in his life, because without another word, he’s surging forward. Tongue flicking out to tease your sloppy entrance, pooling your juices before tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat so sinfully.

Shit, Satoru could just cum in his pants right now, of course you taste heavenly. Better than he could’ve ever imagined on any lonely night.

You shudder as he flattens his tongue across your folds, sliding teasingly between them, grazing your swollen clit just barely at an unhurried rhythm that almost has Satoru forgetting where he was. But quite frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he hums around your clit, the vibrations making you squeal. Sucking gently, tongue rolling harshly against your bundle of nerves, over and over- “Cause it’s what I’ve been wanting for years.”

The words ring in your ears almost as much as the lewd squelches below. Years?

“F-fuck- feels hngh- What do you mean y-years, Satoru?”

Oh, Satoru thinks he could pass out just at the way you whine out his name so prettily. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a hand hastily snaking down to unbuckle his pants. “Mhmm~ Couldn’t go a day without sparring with you where I didn’t think of bending you over and tasting you right there y’know.”

Your eyes snap down to meet Satoru’s hazy, half-lidded ones. Something dark and feral shining within them. And right now, thighs wrapped around his head, you don’t think he’s ever looked happier. White locks splayed out, a fucked-out expression on his face as his tongue bullies past your folds, you could feel the slight smile curling his lips against you.

It’s overwhelming - both his confession and the way Satoru was making out with your cunt like a man starved.

Nose-deep in your pussy, tongue alternating between its abuse on your throbbing clit and dipping in and out of your sloppy hole at a maddening pace. Mouth only speeding up ruthlessly at the way you convulse and grind involuntarily on top of him.

God, Satoru was going insane at the way your walls were sucking him up so good, clamping down with each push of his tongue.

“Shit- made jus’ f’me. You like that, don’t you?” he growls against your cunt, voice hoarse with desire. “Like fucking my face with your pussy?”

“Oh! Ngh, yes Satoru- L-love it-”

A bruising grip on your hips, encouraging you to rock against his face. Harder. Tongue more desperate. He couldn’t get enough. Meeting your every grind, tongue lapping at your cunt so obscenely.

Breaths ragged and hot against your cunt, drinking you in with the desperation of a man that wouldn’t mind giving up air for your essence. And it was Satoru - of course he wouldn’t mind.

Especially with the large hand snaking up your thigh, going from drawing reassuring patterns at your hips to rubbing tight, little circles on your pulsing clit. Hasty, and urgent - like he had no time to waste. “Tha’s right, my girl. Give it up for me,”

Every cell in your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure at the way Satoru plays your body like an instrument.

“M’close, Satoru- Hah- s’close.” you moan breathlessly, a hand tangling in his soft strands. Using it as leverage to ride Satoru’s pretty face just the way you like it.

But you didn’t have to - because Satoru seems to already know exactly what to do. Exactly how to quirk his tongue just right to brush against all your most sensitive spots. Exactly how to match the rhythm of his abuse on your clit to the way he was tonguefucking you into delirium. Exactly how to look at you with such a hungry expression that devours you almost as much as his mouth.

“Cum f’me, sweetheart.”

Satoru didn’t even have to ask. Because you’re cumming with a strangled gasp of his name. White-hot pleasure coursing through you like lightning, body trembling as you cum all over Satoru’s pretty face.

Hands moving your limp, boneless hips across his face, forcing you to ride out peak after peak on his red lips.

As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs.

Oh, how beautiful he was like this.

“S-S’toru?” you mewl, still sensitive from your orgasm as Satoru shifts underneath you to sit you prettily in his lap.

“Mhm?” he nuzzles your neck.

“One more. It didn’t work.”

Oh, if you knew the only way to shut up Gojo Satoru was to say something like this then you would’ve done it a lot sooner.

But Satoru’s stunned silence doesn’t last for long, because he grins, low and sultry, “You’re right. It didn’t work.”

The metallic clinking of a belt echoes in the stuffy chamber as Satoru hastily pushes down his pants. Cock springing free to hit his lower abs, “What a shame.”

You blink at the sheer size of him - he was going to split you in two. It was unfair, really. Water is wet. Gojo Satoru has a big dick.

But oh was he pretty - so pretty. Prominent veins glistening in the dim lighting, fat tip flushed your favorite shade of delicate pink, leaking furiously in between your thighs.

Gulping, you reach out to wrap your hand around his achingly hard cock. So warm and heavy in your hands. “Y-yeah, what a shame.”

Both of you watch - entranced - at the way he twitches in your grasp at the mere sound of your voice. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! against your palm as you begin pumping him slowly - so agonizingly slow.

“Oh- Feel s’good, sweetheart.” Satoru hisses lowly as you swipe at the precum beading at this head. Thumbing teasingly under his sensitive slit, tracing delicately along his veins.

And by God does it do something to you to see the great Gojo Satoru falling apart for you, hair tousled, lips kiss-bitten, and eyes looking at you like he wanted to positively eat you alive. It made your cunt throb so desperately, slick forming a dark wet patch on his trousers.

Not one to be left behind, his long fingers deftly snake down to your dripping cunt. Not wasting any time before bullying his fingertips past your swollen folds, curling expertly to press down against that one spot that has your fist faltering on his cock. Hard.

Pretty little moans left your lips at the way Satoru so easily matches your pace. Thrusting knuckle-deep into your pussy in and out - hitting that spot over and over.

“Shit, Toru- s’deep inside me. I’m- hngh-”

Satoru was in heaven, really. You were so warm and wet around both his fingers and his throbbing cock.

Only two thoughts running through his mind right now - 1. He was right, your hands were softer and more sinfully delicious around his swollen cock. And 2. The hardest battle he’s ever fought was probably right now - at your mercy, trying not to spill all over your hands because he’d be damned if he finally scored the girl and came in two seconds.

Shit, he thinks fingers almost erratic now, he needs you to cum. Right now.

As if sensing his urgency, your moves become more frantic, Satoru’s brows furrowing at the way you increase your pace. His hips twitch, as if trying to thrust into your fist. matching your pace as you start stroking him harder, faster.

Ah, but alas, the great Gojo Satoru’s reputation precedes him.

“Oh, fuck- M’gonna-” And soon enough, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - as you cum. Hard.

Body moving before your mind, you’re clenching around Satoru’s fingers, grinding down so ferally as you edge him closer and closer. “C’mon, Toru. One more, right?” you whisper brokenly, lips ghosting his ear.

Breath coming in short, strained gasps of what sounded like your name now, “Oh- fuck ngh- so close.” he warns, voice hoarse. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

You smirk, raising a brow, “Is that a threat, Satoru?”

Willing his fucked-out eyes open, they bore into yours as he utters, “No, ah- it’s a p-promise.”

Without warning, Satoru clasps your wrists, forcing you to stop pumping him. The disappointed mewl threatening to spill from your lips is cut off just as your back hits the ground.

Slam!

You think you could almost get whiplash from how swiftly Satoru had you caged and splayed out so shamefully beneath him.

You whine, “But you didn’t even get to-”

“Fuck, not now. Gotta feel you or else m’gonna cum so embarrassingly all over your fist.” He rests his throbbing erection laid out so enticingly across your stomach, leaking hot precum onto your skin. And that makes you shut up, eyes mapping where it ended and realizing that yeah, you might’ve faced more mercy with the curses outside of this box. “Besides. One more, right?”

And before you can respond, Satoru’s spitting on you once. Twice. Thrice.

You flinch as the wads of saliva hit your dripping cunt, mixing with your slick so obscenely as Satoru smears it across your swollen folds. Your mouth drops into a soft oh! of disbelief as he promptly pops his thumb into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

“Shit.” Satoru hisses lowly, “One more might just not be enough.”

Not wasting a moment longer, he’s bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your plush walls desperately try to accommodate his size.

“Oh. Oh shit hah- should’ve been locked up here ngh- sooner.” he groans, words straight from his cock. “Feel s’heavenly around m-me.” Because God Satoru thinks he wouldn’t even mind staying here for the rest of his life if it meant he got to have you like this.

You moan at the positively delicious stretch of your pussy, plush walls unable to decide between pushing him out and milking the soul out of him. “Hah- Toru s’too big. I can’t-”

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed as he focuses on letting you adjust. Pressing inch by fucking inch. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy till his tip kisses your cervix, and you’re drunk on nothing but his cock.

But he didn’t have to - because you’re immediately wrapping your legs around his toned waist, pulling Satoru to you recklessly until his heavy balls smack your ass. Tufts of snowy white hair - already so wet with your slick and his precum - finally meeting your cunt.

“Ah! Shit, s’full Toru.” you keen, body bowing into his.

There’s not even a hair's breadth between your bodies now as Satoru chuckles darkly. “You little minx. Thought you couldn’t handle me, but you really wanted to be split apart on my cock, huh?”

You feel almost shy under his gaze as you mumble out a quiet little, “Well you did say one more.”

Ah, Satoru thinks deliriously, if you aren’t Mrs. Gojo by the time you two get out of this then there’s seriously something wrong with him.

But he doesn’t tell you that. Instead with a satisfied smirk, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, sucking your tongue so lewdly as he did with your cunt. Parting for only a second before pressing his lips to yours again. And again. And again, as if it hurt to part.

“Mhm. Always wanted to do this, sweetheart.” he hums against your pretty lips. “Fuck ever since you hah- walked in on that first day.”

Kissing you sweetly with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as pulls back, back, back. All the way till his angry, hard tip was just grazing your sloppy entrance. “One more.”

Body moving before his mind, his hips start fucking into your dripping cunt recklessly. Satoru doesn’t fuck you with the finesse he imagined he would all these years, rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and all the desperation from these last few years.

In one, fluid movement, the burn of the stretch hits you before the realization that Satoru has thrown your legs over his sculpted shoulders.

“Ah- So good, Toru. Oh my god- hah-” you mewl at the change in angle. His pulsing dick expertly hitting that one spot inside you which has your words slurring together, body arching off the floor to press so impossibly close against him.

And, well, Satoru isn’t any better - because he’s slamming his cock into you mindlessly. Hitting that spot over and over.

With one hand, he caresses your stomach. Whispering out a ragged, “Feel me inside? Feel me right…” Pressing his palm down hard, “Here.”

The other forces you to look up at him, drinking in your whines of “Yes yes yes, can feel you s-so deep hngh- inside me, Toru.”

You’re so cockdrunk and full of Satoru that you barely notice the hands groping their way down your body. Catching harshly on your swollen clit, starting to draw, quick, frenzied circles that match the cadence of his hips smacking into yours.

“Look at me.” he murmurs raspily, “Open your mouth.”

And you can do nothing but take it, tongue lolling out so lewdly for the warm stream of spit that hits it. Once. Twice.

You look up at him with teary eyes, as you take it all - anything and everything he was giving. And it makes Satoru bow his head with a fucked-out groan, cock twitching so animalistically as it keeps plunging inside you roughly. Deft fingers on your clit becoming more desperate.

Harder. Faster. Balls squeezing so painfully. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up - and you were going to let thim.

You squeal at the overstimulation, hips bucking up for more more more-

“God, sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.” he moans, voice strained with desire and the euphoria of getting everything he’s wanted for so long. It was driving him insane. “Now c’mon. One more. Give me one more like my good girl.”

“Hngh- yes- Toru!”

You don’t even know what “one more” means anymore - all you do know is that you’re cumming and cumming all around Satoru’s unforgiving cock. Walls fluttering so snugly, your body convulses as you cream around his cock. Nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back, Satoru’s name leaving your bruised lips and into the heady air like a prayer every time his tip kisses your cervix. His new favorite melody.

And that seems to be what makes him snap as well - because with a final, sloppy thrust, he’s painting your walls such a sinful white. Pumping thick, hot ropes of his cum into your quivering cunt.

“Shit- yeah, my girl. Take it. Take it all f’me.” Satoru shudders above you, head thrown back, chest heaving as he fucks you through your high. Movements nothing more than shallow, mindless little thrusts to get you both off so animalistically.

It was so fucking filthy - and exactly what you needed so badly. He was exactly what you needed so badly.

Now, Satoru only had to take one look as you use him so obscenely for your pleasure - eyes dazed, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth - before he thinks he might just cum again. And again. And again until he physically couldn’t anymore.

But first…

Pulling out of your heavenly pussy with a lewd pop! His long fingers delicately collects the mixture of slick and cum now gushing out of you obscenely.

Aw, what a waste, Satoru muses as it pools below you sinfully. If it was up to him he wouldn’t waste a single drop from your pretty cunt.

But no matter.

Abruptly, Satoru bullies two fingers into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself, to taste him. Pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and gagging around him, teary eyes just begging up at him. Perfect - you were so perfect for him.

Kissing your forehead with a tenderness that doesn’t match his actions, he hums, faux innocence lacing his words, “What a shame, the box didn’t open yet.”

And oh does he love the excitement lighting up your exhausted eyes. Pretty thighs twitching underneath him as a slow, fucked-out little smile curls your lips.

“One more? Please?”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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hazelcallahan · 9 days ago

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ok “all vi needed to do was call caitlyn cupcake to make her turn on ambessa” is a fun little bit that i will participate in but i really feel like it’s contributing to two major misconceptions/complaints:

1. that caitlyn’s heel turn was sudden, and

2. that vi and caitlyn have reconciled

so let’s break that down, shall we

1. every single hint was there that caitlyn was chafing against ambessa’s regime and doing every little thing in her power to resist without putting herself and her loved ones at great risk. from the first scene with maddie - hell, the opening montage - you can tell cait is fucking EXHAUSTED. weary. that’s a woman who has spent months suffocating, doing desperate damage mitigation when put into an impossible situation. she didn’t want the mantle of leadership, and what was she going to do, say no and let someone worse take it? so she’ll take it. she’ll ban the use of solitary confinement cells. she’ll argue against ambessa’s soldiers attacking civilians. she’s in too deep to really do much else.

additionally, there are hints that she’s been planning on ways to take down ambessa for months. that one scene with dialogue over them sparring is literally there to symbolize how every single conversation between them is a battle, both of them looking for openings, and no matter how hard caitlyn tries ambessa always seems to come out on top. you also don’t just come up with the plan she did entirely on the fly - tracking things like guard rotations is something only a schemer does.

2. sure, “cupcake” is a fun little pet name, but it’s so much more than that. the most obvious is an olive branch. vi doesn’t want to hurt caitlyn. there’s so much affection still there.

the bigger thing, though, and the thing i believe caitlyn is reacting to there, is it’s a sign of distance. vi used “cupcake” as a way to needle at caitlyn when they first met, when she didn’t quite trust her even though she’d broken her out of prison. after that, we hear her use it twice more in s1: on the bridge during their parting hug, and after the council meeting as she’s trying to leave. both instances where she, in that moment, believes they’re never going to see each other again, and so she has a vested interest in creating that distance. on the other hand, we hear her use caitlyn’s name after she hears the gunshot on the bridge, in a moment of genuine fear and affection.

come s2, vi doesn’t use “cupcake” at all in act 1. she used “cait” a lot. still a nickname, but also caitlyn’s actual name - i know you, i see you, i care about you. caitlyn’s observant enough to notice this, even passively, even if she didn’t realize it until she heard “cupcake” months later, but i can’t help but feel like she takes that nickname as a sign of how they’ve drifted. she feels like she has to start over again with this woman she clearly loves. the meaning is clear to her: i won’t hurt you unless you give me a reason to, i’ll work with you if that’s what you need, but i’m not going to let myself get close to you just yet.

#caitvi #speaking my truth!#arcane #arcane spoilers

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moonstruckme · 6 months ago

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Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍

Yes! Thank you for reading <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words

“Honey, I’m home!”

A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—

“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?”

You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.”

He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.”

“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.”

James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.”

“How would it be your fault?”

“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.”

You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.”

“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?”

“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.”

“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?”

You blink. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.”

“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.”

“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?”

You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now.

You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.”

His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.”

“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway.

A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up.

“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.”

You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours.

Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime.

But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice.

“I might,” you say.

“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.

1K notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Show You What Devotion Is ❤️‍🔥

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: SMUT, fluff, MINORS DNI 18+

Word count:..... 12k...

Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to lead you to his bed every night of the week.

Warnings: So many 💀, oral (M and F receiving), public sex multiple times, multiple creampies, protection never mentioned, fingering, car sex, alcohol consumption, pet names, degradation, sir kink I think at some point, choking, mentions of spit and other bodily fluids, I'm sure there are more, too.

A/N: Well. Here it is. Big thank you to Jungkook for releasing the song that gave me this fic idea that I was fully convinced was just going to be a nice little song about the number seven. Here's my masterlist, and my requests and asks are open if you want to shout at me for writing 12,000 words of filth! Settle down somewhere comfy for this one 💀 Song inspo:

Monday

The jet was calm and quiet with just the two of you on it as you stretched yourself out over the seats, desperate to find a comfortable position to curl up in and find some sleep. You had been out the entire weekend on a death-row interview, and after three days of dealing with high security prison inmates and their guards, you were feeling a bit restless. You hated the feeling of being cooped up in there, even if you knew you’d be getting out eventually.

You were just thankful that they’d sent you in the jet, because you sure as hell couldn’t imagine driving back right now. And as your only company was Reid, who wasn’t a fan of driving himself, especially over such long distances, it would have been a crappy end to an even crappier weekend. You looked up at the man now, and realised he was also trying his best to fall asleep, but he had a tense look on his face, and he was shifting in his seat, unable to get comfortable.

“Can’t sleep either?” you asked him, finally accepting that you probably weren’t going to get any relief any time soon. His eyes shot open, and he looked at you, finally registering that it was you that had spoken to him and not some figment of his imagination.

“Something like that, yeah,” he said, and looked away, letting the silence fall over you again.

“Do you want to maybe play cards or something?” you asked hopefully, desperate to find something to do for the last hour of your flight. From everything you’d learned about the man opposite you in your six months as a member of the BAU, you knew it probably wasn’t a good idea challenging him. But between being absolutely destroyed at cards and being caught in the discomfort of exhaustion with no ability to sleep, you’d choose the card games any day.

Besides, you could do with learning a little bit more about your coworker anyway. Despite earning your place on the team, and befriending most of the others pretty easily, Reid had always seemed a bit standoffish to you. He was always polite, of course, but the others had warned you that he didn’t take well to change, and your addition to the team was a pretty notable change in your team dynamic.

You were now the youngest member of the team, and you’d been trained in press liaising as a part of your training at the academy, so you took on a different role from the others to allow JJ to get out into the field more now that she was officially an agent. It wasn’t that you thought he disliked you, it was just that he needed to get used to you. Or at least that was what you were telling yourself.

It was why you were on the jet in the first palace, having asked Hotch for the opportunity to shadow Reid while he was working on the interview. He’d given you a look when you lied that it was to gain more experience, but he didn’t have anything against you trying to get Reid to warm up to you a little bit more, so he didn’t complain, and let the two of you go. But you hadn’t realised just how busy you would be with the work, and you hadn’t exactly become the best of friends either.

“You don’t want to play cards with me, Y/N,” he replied coolly, not even looking at you.

“Emily said you usually try to swindle people when you first play cards with them, why aren’t you trying that with me?” you asked, growing a little frustrated that your attempts were being blocked. It’d been the same when you’d invited him out for a drink the night before, and when you’d asked if he wanted to share a takeout in your hotel room the night before that. Polite rejections and the feeling of incompetence that left you wondering if you’d done something wrong.

“You’re too innocent for me to swindle, Y/N. It’d be too easy.”

“That’s pretty arrogant, don’t you think?” As a last ditch attempt to get him to bite, you thought insulting him couldn’t possibly hurt.

“Shit, okay, one game, the cards are in the cupboard over there.” He acquiesced and nodded behind him to the small kitchenette at the end of the jet.

“Why do I have to grab them, you’re closer?” you pouted a little bit, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away again.

“You’re the one who wanted to play,” he grumbled. Rolling your eyes you threw off the blanket you’d wrapped around yourself and stumbled over to grab the cards.

On your way back however, the plane lurched to the side and you stumbled, dropping the cards everywhere and falling straight into the lap of Doctor Spencer Reid. He tried to catch you in his arms, but you’re position made it difficult for him to help you further. Having fallen face first, your torso was now pressed into the seat next to him, the rest of your body bent over his knee as if he were getting ready to spank you any minute.

One of his hands was pinned under your body weight, and the other that had come out to steady you was gripping dangerously close to your chest, not exactly helping with the mental images you were already fighting.

“Shit, I’m sorry I think we hit some turbulence,” you winced and tried to standup, and he groaned at the loss of contact as you moved.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he let out the curse as you stood up, but you weren’t upright for long before your legs gave out underneath you, another lurch from the plane depositing you directly into his lap, your legs straddling either side of his and your chest pressed up against his. This closer position allowed you to feel more of him pressed against you, and your eyes widened in realisation.

“Fuck, Spencer are you hard right now?” You groaned from on top of him, stilled by the realisaton. He scowled at you, again, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Sorry, it’s just been a long weekend, and I couldn’t…” he let out a frustrated sigh and you waited for him to continue, suddenly not so eager to get out of the embarrassing position.

“Have you been hard this entire time? Shit, that’s why you didn’t want to grab the playing cards, didn’t want me to see you like that, right?” you could hear the grin in your voice, and you knew you were being risky but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Shut up, Y/L/N, I really don’t need this right now,” he groaned out again, but made no move to push you off.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I know what you need right now.”

“Don’t fucking tease, Y/N, I’m serious. Let’s just pretend that this never happened, okay?” His mouth was saying one thing, but you were pretty sure from the hands that were gripping your hips now that he wasn’t exactly being the most honest with himself in that moment.

“What if I…. helped you out?” you whispered it out almost silently, and Reid’s eyes snapped open to look at you.

“Don’t joke with me right now, Y/N, it isn’t funny and it isn’t cute.”

“I’m not joking.” Your eyes locked and you didn’t say anything else, content to watch him wage a war in his own mind, curious about which side would win.

“Get on your knees,” he said eventually, and you did, climbing out of his lap and kneeling next to his seat, your heart-beating out of your chest now. “Good girl.”

The heat pooled between your legs with those words, and you let out a small whimper as he popped the button on his pants. He pulled out his dick and you stared at it in wonder. You could see the precum shining on his tip as he gave it a few preliminary pumps, his mouth open as he finally found some relief.

You slid your hands up his legs and rested them on his thighs, watching his face and ready to pounce on him the moment he gave you the word.

“Look at you, desperate little whore. You want to suck me off that bad, baby?” he crooned at you, and you found yourself unable to answer.

“Bet you’ve been trying to do this all weekend. Trying to get me back to that hotel room of yours, trying to get me to drink with you, when what you really wanted was for me to stuff my cock down your throat, right?”

It was taking all of your willpower to not just reach your tongue out and lick your way up his shaft, now, your body practically begging for you to touch him.

“Well, go ahead princess. Go ahead and show me what a needy little whore you are.” You waited for no further instruction, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and your tongue around the tip.

You played with it for a few seconds, giving him a few strokes while you waited to see his reactions. He grabbed a fist of your hair, making sure to push it away from your face so he could see exactly what you were doing at all times. With that, you started pushing your head down on more and more of him, seeing how far you could manage to get before hitting the back of your throat.

When you hit your max, you pulled off of him and did it again, starting to pick up pace as you worked your hands over the few inches that couldnt fit.

“Fuck that’s it, princess, just like that.” He moaned, not taking his eyes off you for even a second.

You bobbed your head up and down on him now, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with each noise he let out.

“Sucking me off right here on the jet, such a little slut, aren’t you?” he said down at you and you couldn’t help the moan you let out around his cock, the vibrations causing him to tighten his grip on your hair and hiss out a curse.

“That’s it keep going, just like that baby,” he whispered, his hand now starting to push you down a little further on his dick each time, his head thrown back in ecstasy. You knew he was getting close, and you were desperate to feel his cum down your throat.

“Fuck, yes, just like that baby, just like that keep going.” The muscles in his legs were tense under your hand as you pushed your head down right to the base of his cock, stretching yourself past your limits and breathing him in deeply. After that, it was only a few more seconds until you could feel the hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat.

You looked up at him through his orgasm, and you swore it was the best view you’d seen before in your life. His mouth was open in a moan, and the hand that wasn’t controlling your movements was raked through his own tousled locks.

Eventually, he pulled you off of him, and you swallowed the remaining cum still inside your mouth, going as far as to catch the few drops spilling out with your fingertips and delicately lick it off, knowing he was back to watching your every move.

He pulled you up to a standing position, his eyes still locked on yours, and you could see he was getting ready to give you another instruction, to use you again to find his own pleasure. Before he had the chance though, an announcement on the PA system had him jumping as far away from you as possible.

“Hey, sorry about that earlier turbulence folks. We’re about ten minutes out of Quantico, so we’re about to descend. You know the drill, seatbelts, please.” The pilot was off the line as quickly as he came on it, and you were left in silence once more.

Fumbling with his pants, Reid put himself together again before guiding you into your seat and taking up his place again in the seat opposite.

“I didn’t mean for it to end like this, shit we don’t have time for me to return the favor…” he seemed apologetic about that and you were finally snapped out of your daze.

“Reid, you really don’t have to do that… I just helped you out a little, is all.”

“No, I’m going to pay you back for this. I swear.” And there it was again, the pounding of your heart as he looked at you like that. You unintentionally clenched around nothing, your frustration almost doubling knowing there could’ve been more if you’d had more time.

“Feel free to say no, of course, but how do you feel about making this a regular thing?” you asked, your voice low, trying not to reveal how desperate you were to be under him right now, certain it would put him off.

“Like a… friends with benefits, thing?” He asked, his head perking up in curiosity.

“Yeah. If you want.” You gulped down. “Obviously, you can say no. We’re coworkers, so it could become weird, but it could also be really convenient to have someone on cases to help you out if you’re ever, you know…”

“Y/N, you’re rambling,” he smiled at you.

“I know, I really want you to say yes,” you admitted then immediately cursed your lack of filter.

“Yes.” He said. And that was that.

Tuesday

To say that stepping off of the jet had bought you back down to reality would be an understatement. After parting from Spencer with a terse wave and a strained smile, you’d spent your entire commute home thinking you’d just fucked up in the most major way possible.

As far as you could tell, the man didn’t even like being in your company and was just okay with you being his coworker, and then you’d suggested you give him a blow job on government property? Yeah, you were insane. That was the only possible explanation.

Needless to say, you got no sleep that night. You could only imagine how shitty you looked dragging yourself into the bullpen the next morning, coffee in hand and twitching like a rabbit that knew it was being followed by a wolf.

“God, Y/N, you look like you’ve been through hell and back. I thought you and Reid only went for an inmate interview?” Emily questioned you as soon as you stepped through the door.

“Yeah, yeah, it was okay,” you squeaked out, not quite adept at hiding your emotions just yet. “I just didn’t get much sleep is all. Shitty hotel beds, you know?” You smiled at her, and she nodded from experience.

“Oh, tell me about it, this one time I was sharing a room with JJ and the metal springs in the mattress we’re just sticking out the top. It’s a miracle these places make any money.”

“Well, they always have FBI Agents blasting through desperate for a room, I guess,” you joked with her half-heartedly, still feeling the tension in the room.

“What are you guys talking about?” He creeps up behind you to join the conversation, but you know it’s him. You turn around and finally get a look at him. Reid stood there, looking relaxed, with a small smirk on his face. His hands in his pants pockets, leaned back against Emily’s desk next to his, effectively cutting off your route to your own desk behind him.

“Y/N was telling me about the crappy motel you guys got lumped in this weekend. Bummer right?”

“I don’t know, I slept just fine. You do look a little tense, Y/N,” he looked at you again, and you couldn’t help the glare you shot at him. He was messing with you. The fucker was actually messing with you.

“I must’ve just pulled the short straw.” You send him a strained smile, trying to end the conversation there.

“You should’ve said something about it on the jet, I would’ve let you rest instead.” You freeze then. Surely he wasn’t going to reveal to the entire office, or at least to Emily, what the two of you did on the jet.

“You didn’t have to play cards with me, you know. I know how exhausting it can be to keep up with me. I have pretty good stamina.” This time you didn’t hold back and you did shoot daggers at him, which only achieved bringing him one step closer to laughter.

“Ooh, rookie mistake. Don’t play with Reid, Y/N, he’ll take you for all you’re worth.” Emily shot back before making her way to the kitchen area, content with the advice she had given.

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” You mumbled, eyes still locked with Reid’s as you made to push past him. His hand brushed yours as you did, and you almost jumped at the contact. God, why was he doing this to you. Up until yesterday, he hadn’t ever bothered to even look in your direction, and now he was making you dizzy at work and you didn’t know how to deal with it.

The rest of the day you did your best to ignore him, and you really had to try. Everytime you went to grab yourself another drink, he’d trail along behind you, leaving you to make a U-turn to ask Morgan or Prentiss questions instead. If you went to get some files, he’d do the same, and you found yourself grabbing the wrong files in your haste to avoid talking to him again.

It was a ridiculous game of cat and mouse, and you knew that eventually he would catch up to you, and then you would have to come face to face with the man who had consumed your thoughts for the last 24 hours. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if it was dread you were feeling or anticipation.

In the end, he resorted to a more direct method that you couldn’t ignore.

“Hey, Y/N, I need to discuss some of the files from this weekends interview, do you have five minutes?” he said it loud enough for those around you to hear, so there was no escape. You took a deep breath and acquiesced,

“Great, let’s go grab the files and we can get started.” From all your self-defence training, you knew you should never let your assailant get you to a secondary location, but with him, you knew there was no escape. You let him guide you to the storage room, not even bothering to make small talk on the way down.

The door wasn’t even closed before he turned on you and started talking.

“If yesterday was bad for you, then we don’t have to ever do it again, but if you keep ignoring me like that, they’re going to realise that something is wrong.”

“Take a second to think about why I’m ignoring you, Reid. You’ve practically been on top of me all day, I can’t think when you’re around and I have work to do,” you whisper shout at him, even though theres no one in the file room he’s pulled you into.

“I wasn’t on top of you, I’d have enjoyed it very much had I been on top of you. Instead, I’ve been trailing behind you because you won’t talk to me.” He replied, shoulders lifting to his ears in his defense.

“Do you not want to do this anymore?” he asked you and you took in a sharp inhale of breath. He was giving you an out. You logically knew that you should take it, push down whatever it was you were feeling and pretend like yesterday had never happened. But all thoughts of doing just that left your head as he moved one step closer to you.

“Spencer…” you whispered into the room, as he moved closer still, eventually coming to cage you in against the wall.

“Do you really not want me to repay you?” he moved his hands down your body, a ghost of a touch really, not at all enough for what you wanted and getting nowhere near where you needed.

“Spencer, we shouldn’t be doing this at work. What if someone comes down here?”

“Doing what? I’m just asking you a question.” He gripped your thighs and pulled you again him, and you could feel the length of him against your stomach. “And besides, that didn’t matter to you yesterday.”

“Fuck, Spencer…” you groaned out, screwing your eyes shut. He trailed his hands further still and they finally found your ass over your skirt.

“I felt just as unsure about this earlier, you know. Thought it was going to create a weird tension in the office. Then you walked in this morning, wearing this skirt and suddenly I didn’t care. Just needed to have you.” He pulls your leg up, pressing his in between your thighs before you can think of closing your legs in modesty.

“I just want to feel you, will you let me do that?” He whispers against your skin and you whimper as his lips ghost over you.

“Yes, yes Spencer, please…” your brain shuts off and you give in, and suddenly he has your skirt around your waist and you tights and panties aorund your ankles in what seems like only a flash of a second.

“So fucking perfect and obedient for me, aren’t you, pet?” You whimper as he trails a finger along your sensitive clit, and you twitch as he begins his movements, rubbing slow circles into you.

“Fuck, look at you, clenching around nothing. I was just going to come in here and make you cum on my fingers but you’re begging to be filled, aren’t you, Princess?” He murmurs finally pushing on finger into you as he continues to to rub your clit with his thumb. You bury your head into his shoulder and try your best to muffle the disgusting moans dripping from your mouth as you plead with your coworker.

“What was that, pet? You’re going to have to say it a bit louder, I can’t hear you?” He picks up his pace and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your face.

“Fuck me. Please, Reid.” Not removing his hand from between your legs, he unbuttons his pants and you see his cock again for the second time in two days. You can’t believe you managed to get the entire thing down your throat yesterday. You stare at him with lust-clouded eyes, begging him silently.

“I haven’t got a condom, princess. Are you on the pill?” He asks, giving himself a few terse strokes, too far from your reach to help out. You nod vigorously, unable to form actual words now and not trusting yourself to keep quiet as your anticipation builds.

“Perfect baby, now relax and I’ll take care of you, okay?” He gently pulled his hand away from your core, quickly replacing it with his pulsating cock, pushing in slowly and deep.

“So tight for me, baby, you feel amazing.” He pauses for a second to allow you to adjust to his size, but all too soon he’s hammering into you, not caring to control his speed or his strength, just using you like he’s a man delirious with lust and you love it.

You clutch his shirt, and with each and every thrust you scream a little bit, unable to hold yourself back from the pleasure thats ripping through you. You’re making so much noise that after a few minutes, he brings a hand to your mouth, closing it over you and effectively cutting off any noises you make from escaping.

“You need to be quiet, honey, as much as I want to hear you, we don’t need anyone to come around here asking questions.” But you’re too far gone to care, your judgement too clouded, your head and body too full of him and what he’s doing to you to care at all who knows about it. You know he’s right, but you just keep moaning into his hand until finally, your body can’t take the stimulation anymore and you feel yourself tip over the edge, tightening around him as you ride out your high.

“Fuck, that’s it princess, I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” He says and you use what feels like the last of your strength to nod as you feel him shoot his load inside of you.

You don’t know how long the two of you stay joined there, but the post-sex clarity hits you like a tonne of bricks again as he pulls out and you genuinely start questioning your sanity as he cleans you up and pulls your panties back up into the right position.

“Shit Spencer, we can’t do that again,” you say. “What if someone had caught us?”

“Don’t say that as if you weren’t just turned on by the very thought of that happening,” he shot back. “But yes, we’re going to need some rules if we’re going to keep this up.” You nod at him, and the two of you make for the exit of the room, aware that you’d already been away for suspiciously long.

Luckily, your teammates are all too busy to notice that neither of you return with the files you went to look for.

Wednesday

The knock at your door was sharp and insistent, but you were tired so it took you a few minutes to cross your apartment to reach the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting to greet you there at 9pm on a wednesday evening, but it sure as hell wasn’t Spencer Reid, looking a little damp from the rain.

“I’m glad you’re home. I thought you would be considering you told Penelope you had no plans when you left earlier, but there was always the possibility that you wouldn’t be and then I would be stuck out here in the rain again and I wouldn’t get to see you and I really needed to see you.” He got the jumble of words out as quickly as he could, not even leaving you enough time to say hello before he was rambling.

“Spencer, slow down. What are you doing here?” You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Truthfully, you’d spent the last half an hour doing your best not to fall asleep on your couch as you tried to get some reading in, so you weren't exactly the best prepared for guests. You’d rid yourself of your work clothes as soon as you reached your house, the discarded clothes still laying in a pile in your bedroom, and you’d changed into an oversized t-shirt you’d bought a few years ago that was becoming a bit threadbare with constant use.

“I thought we could talk.” He said and offered no further explanation. It was cold and you wrapped your arms around yourself, but the door was letting in the cold breeze that accompanied the rain so you moved aside and gestured for him to make himself at home.

He took stock of your apartment as he walked in and you felt so exposed as he started taking everything in. He was a profiler, a really good one at that, and he was looking now at your bookshelves, the pictures around your apartment, the little trinkets you’d collected over the years. You should have been squirming under the surveillance of it all, but you almost wanted to show him around, talk him through it all and show you every part of you that he hadn’t seen yet. God, you must’ve been crazy.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you asked, returning to your seat on your couch and gesturing for Reid to sit down, too. He took up a chair on the opposite side of the room, sitting only on the edge of the seat, body tense and shoulders set in a tight line.

“Us. I thought it’d be best if we set some… ground rules you know. After yesterday and the jet…” you sat up then, too and tried not to avoid looking at the mirror you knew was on your shelf, knowing that all you’d see was the crimson staining your face and wondering what he would learn from that.

“Yeah… Yeah of course, we should talk about that. That sounds… smart, I think.”

“I did some research, and apparently we should start with setting boundaries. Things we won’t do, things that would make this easier for us.”

“Right, what kind of… boundaries were you thinking?” Your heart was beating out of your chest waiting for him to continue. The sex between you was so easy that you forgot that neither of you was the best at communicating with the other, that your brain seemed to switch off in his presence and refused to turn itself back on until you’d ended up underneath him.

“There are certain things I won’t do in the bedroom. I don’t like being choked and I don’t…” he trailed off, his face going bright red, “I don’t like not being in control.” He finally finished, looking very shy for a man who just admitted that he took an exclusively dominant role in the bedroom.

“That’s fine with me. Just for the sake of transparency, I’m okay with that. Choking that is. And not being dominant.” You tripped over your words, trying to convey your meaning.

“Great, that’s totally great.” You sat there in silence for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Is there anything you won’t do?”

“Oh right,” you thought about it for a few seconds and then gave him your reply. “As exciting as that was yesterday, I think we shouldn’t be doing that in the office again. I’m not… against public sex, but I’d prefer not to get arrested for public indecency by one of our colleagues.”

He nodded vigorously and looked like he was about to say something else, but you continued.

“Other than that, I’m pretty open. No threesomes though,” You blushed, trying to find the right words to use. “If we’re going to do this, I don’t really want to share you.”

“That’s a good point. We should be exclusive for however long we do this for. The increased risk of attaining a sexually transmitted disease when actively engaging with two or more sexual partners is around 11%, so it’d be safer for us both to just use each other.”

The way he said it was so clinical that you almost flinched, but he didn’t notice your reaction and kept going.

“Is that everything? No other objections?” You thought on his question for a few minutes, and then shook your head.

“Nothing I can think of, but maybe we should keep checking in? Just in case, you know.”

“Yeah, communication is really important in relationships.” He paused for a second, as if realising what he said. “Not that this is a relationship, in the traditional sense, but every human connection can be described as a relationship, so I guess this is a relationship as well. You know what I mean.” You laughed a little at him then, his over-explaination relaxing you a bit, glad you weren’t the only one who was finding this situation unavoidably awkward.

“Spencer, calm down, I understand. Is that all you wanted to discuss?” You look at him with a smile, crossing and uncrossing your legs on the couch, finally falling back into a comfortable position. His eyes trailed down to your legs then, finally taking in your appearance. He raked his eyes up your bare legs, your t-shirt barely hitting the tops of your thighs, his gaze lingering there for a few seconds before he forced himself to meet your eyes again.

“I never did get to pay you back for your help, you know?” He licked his lips, and you felt your pussy clench in anticipation. If this was how you reacted to a simple question, you were well and truly fucked if you thought you’d ever be able to function correctly with him around.

“I said you didn’t have to, remember?” You tried to keep your voice even and low, but your body was alert in anticipation now

“But I want to. Will you let me?” He asked, finally moving himself off of the chair and walking over to you. He knelt at your feet and ran his hands up your still crossed legs, grabbing them and gently coaxing them open.

“Please, princess, let me show you my appreciation.” he begged you and you nodded, giving in so easily to his pleas.

“Use your words.” He said, still letting you know who was in control of this situation, even if he was below you right now.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, you can do it.” His hands were trailing up the inside of your leg now, sending goosebumps up your arms, and growing the pit of desire that was burning for him.

“Do what? You need to tell me exactly what you want, right princess? Isn’t that what we discussed?” He placed a chaste kiss to your knee now and your body was begging you to just twine your hands in his hair and press him between your legs.

“Spencer, please use your tongue and make me cum,” you begged him, and his hands instantly moved to pull your panties down. Once he’d rid you of the garments, he hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you into him, spreading your legs apart and finally looking at you.

“This wet for me already, princess?” he smiled up at you, a devastatingly sweet smile from his devilish position. You whimpered slightly and he finally, finally lowered his head, extending his tongue and taking his first swipe at your core.

You grabbed at his hair then, but he pulled away, grabbed your hands and pinned them at either side at you with his own and then went down again, beginning to lick and suck at your centre once more.

When he reached your centre, it was all you could do not to buck up into his face, involuntarily fighting his grip so you could get closer still to his tongue, feel even more friction as he drew small circles, before closing his entire mouth around it and giving you all the attention you had been craving since your interruption two days ago.

You knew from your experience in the file room that Spencer was somewhat naturally gifted in the bedroom, but you put that mostly down to the fact that he was a good size and had pretty notable stamina. But now you realised he was probably the best you were ever going to get. Most men you’d been with hadn’t even wanted to entertain the idea of giving you head, let alone begged you for the opportunity and then drinking you in like you were the last drop of water in the desert and he was a man parched with thirst.

You writhed and moaned into him, feeling your orgasm gain on you as you felt his pace pick up. Looking down at him and catching his eye was the last thing you could do before your eyes rolled back in pleasure, the smile in his eyes so bright, enjoying having you on his tongue so much that you couldn’t handle it anymore.

He didn’t pull off of you immediately, letting you ride his face through your orgasm, your thighs squeazing him slightly before he let go of his grip on your hands and pulled himself away from you. You gasped for breath on the sofa, still softly twitching in pleasure, as he lifted himself off the ground.

“You did so good, princess,” he said patting your head, and you became instantly aware of the painful erection he was sporting through his pants, face to face with it now he was standing up. You opened your mouth, readying yourself to ask for more of him when you heard a phone ring from the other side of the room.

You didn’t recognise the ringtone, but it seemed like Reid did, as he dropped a curse and quickly moved himself back to the chair he’d previously occupied and picked it up quickly.

“Hotch, what is it?” Spencer murmured into the line, and with that you knew you weren’t getting anything else that night. After a short conversation, Reid hung up, and turned to you again.

“We’ve got a case. You’ll probably get the call in a few minutes. We didn’t discuss this earlier, but it’s best if no one else finds out about this.” He said, gathering all of his things, as you covered yourself again. You made to pull your panties up your legs again, but he got to them first.

“No, these are mine now.” He said, so confidently that you just nodded, slightly dumbfounded, and did your best to not pull him back over you again. You were seriously contemplating it, seeing how quickly you could make him cum when another phone rang, and you recognised it as your own.

He petted your hair again, grabbed the last of his things and stuffed your panties inside of his jacket pocket, and said a final goodnight, leaving you to answer the phone alone in your apartment. You sat there subdued in the moment as you realised you were in love with the man, and couldn’t do a thing about it.

You were in love with him, and he hadn’t even once kissed you.

Thursday

Alaska. The case had taken you all the way to Alaska, and you were suddenly desperate to get back to the rain you’d left behind in Virginia. You were cold and the wetness had seeped into your body from the day traipsing around the dumpsite of your newest unsub and your motel room was cold and you were miserable.

Your motel was small, but still large enough to afford each of you your own room, considering there was no one else passing through town at this time of the year, so you didn’t feel bad about turning your light back on at 2am and grabbing the book off your nightstand, hoping it would help lull you to sleep.

Not even five words into the page, a quiet knock interrupted the unending quiet, faint but recognisable from when he’d knocked on your door only the previous night. Your heart raced as you moved to the door and you opened it for him quickly.

“Hi,” you said as you saw him there, looking just as cold as you felt.

“Hey. My room was cold, and I saw your light on…” he whispered, letting his voice trail off. You opened the door for him and he came in quickly, not waiting to risk anyone seeing the two of you, even if it was the middle of the night.

“Yeah, it’s not just you. I’m one cool draft away from piling all of my luggage over me and hoping it helps me warm up. You’d think they’d have extra blankets or something.”

“Oh, I’m sure they did, I saw Prentiss walking up to her room with a pile earlier,” he laughed and you laughed with him, his smile infectious and the temperature leaving you deliriously sleepy.

“You know, we could probably get warm if we got in together,” he suggested, and before he could explain the science behind it, you jumped at the idea.

“Yes, please, I’m willing to try anything right now.” You dove back under the covers, still wrapped in your fluffy pajamas, lifting up the covers to let him under too. He climbed in after you, and for a second you were wondering if he was just going to lie beside you for a while and then leave when he was warm enough. He quashed those thoughts the second he put his head on the pillow next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, holding you as if you were a teddy bear.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth as his breath tickled the back of your neck, huddling closer into him until your legs were tangled and your chests were flush against each other.

“Stop giggling and get some sleep,” he whispered down at you through a smile, his eyes closed, unaware of the look of adoration you couldn’t wipe from your face.

“You know if we really wanted to huddle for warmth, skin-to-skin contact would be much more effective,” you teased him, and he groaned into you, gripping you that much tighter.

“Do not tempt me, Y/N. It’s 2am and we’re working a case, we need some sleep,” he whispered down at you, but you were enjoying teasing him, so you continued, unrelenting.

“It didn’t take us very long any of the other times, Spencer,” you burrowed your head into his neck so he couldn’t see you as you knew he was about to react to your challenge.

“You’re a brat, you know that right?” he sighed, looking down at the top of your head and waiting for you to meet his eyes, but you just nodded into him, and he rolled his eyes and fell back into a comfortable position, but the insinuation in your words stuck to him. You felt him shift next to you, and started slowly trailing your hand down his chest.

“Unless you really want to be working this case tomorrow on one hour of sleep, I’d suggest you stop this before you can’t anymore,” he growled into your ear.

“I think I’ll take my chances, you say, your hand finally reaching his waistband and snapping it against his skin once, showing him exactly what it was you wanted. He grabbed your hands to stop your movements, but from the way he shifted his weight, you could feel that he’d already taken your words to heart.

“So fucking desperate for it, can’t even leave you alone for twenty-four hours before you’re sticking your hands in my pants, huh, princess?” His voice was a low grumble in your ear, and that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was back.

“Well, I’m tired tonight, so how about you show me just how much you want this?” He rolled you over, still pinning your hands with one of his larger ones, and started rolling your pajamas down your legs, just enough to access your pussy.

“Touch yourself, baby, get yourself ready for me,” he let go of your hands now and even in the dark you knew he would be watching your every movement. Lying on your side, you moved one hand down to your clit, beginning to rub slow circles into yourself, letting little gasps and moans escape from your mouth for his benefit.

After a few minutes of touching yourself, getting yourself ready, you reached behind you to Reid’s crotch, fumbling for a second before finally grabbing his dick through his pajamas. He didn’t make a sound in protest, so you continued, stroking his half hard dick until he was fully erect for you.

You gathered some of your wetness on your fingers and pushed two of them inside your pussy, stretching yourself out, beginning to synchronise your two hands so you’d both feel the pleasure together. Spencer was still frustratingly silent, not even moving further than he needed to to allow you better access. Desperate for his attention, you decide to tease him a little bit.

“Do you like that, sir?” You feel his dick twitch in your hand, and throwing a glance over your shoulder, you can see that his jaw is clenched. You panic for a second, thinking maybe he wasn’t into the pet name you’d just dropped from your lips, but he finally responds.

“You just keep working hard to make me happy, princess, okay?” He says and you grin in triumph.

“Yes, sir.” You respond. Instead of picking up your pace, you decide you’ve gone long enough without him inside you so you release him and pull your fingers out of your pussy, licking your juices off your fingers. You push your ass back into position again, lining his tip up with your core as you reach behind you to grab the base of his dick and finally feel him enter you.

Unlike the first time he’d been in you, you didn’t want this to end fast. You wanted to feel him filling you up forever, hold him inside of you. You started thrusting back in torurously slow movements, letting him get so far out of you that he feared he was going to fall out and then pushing yourself back on so deep there was nowhere else he could go.

Refusing to pick up the pace, you continue your movements for the next few minutes, but you feel him growing restless beside you. He lets out little hisses each time he feels the cold on his skin, and he’s breathing deeply, hands bawled into the sheets so he doesn’t touch you like he promised he wouldn’t.

But this feels too much like giving you control, so he starts talking to you again, trying to tease more movement out of you.

“So content to be filled with my cock, huh, baby? You want to savor it, right?” You whimper at every question, the feeling of him inside you and his gravelly voice driving you insane.

“Such a little whore, using my dick to get off when you should be sleeping.” Your pace increased after that, your body desperate to show him how eager you were to be taking all of him inside you.

“Oh? Thought you wanted to keep it slow tonight, slut, you’re getting sloppier.” You were pushing back fervently now, desperate for release, begging him for more and more until you couldn’t take it. Reaching back, you grabbed one of his hands and placed it over your breast, silently begging him to take control.

“Should I give my little whore what she wants?” You simply moaned in reply, unable to do anything else. But that was all he needed and he started matching your thrusts with his own, forcing your pace to increase until your vision was blurry with need.

You were hanging on by a thread now, his fingers rolling the nipple of the breast in his hand around, pinching it hard every few strokes.

“Spencer, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, please, please, please…” you had no idea what you were begging him for, but it seemed like he did, unrelenting in his thrusts.

“It’s okay baby, you can do it. You have my permission.” Once again, you came undone in his arms, and he wasn’t far behind. You fell asleep there in his arms, not even bothering to clean yourself off or make him pull out, just the two of you holding each other on a cold night.

When you woke up, he was gone, and even though you knew it was what was best, you still felt a little crack in your heart start to form.

Friday

It had been over a week since Spencer had sneaked into your room in Alaska and he hadn’t touched you since. With the case in full swing, you hadn’t had the time to sneak off together, and the hotel had since fixed their heating system after a few timely complaints from Rossi and Prentiss, so you had no excuses to gravitate to each other either.

You were back from Alaska now though, and stuffed into a booth at your favorite bar with your team for a post-case celebration. The booth was round, and you were stuck in the middle with nowhere to move, flanked on either side by Morgan and JJ, who respectively had Reid and Prentiss on either side of them, Garcia, currently at the bar, rounding out the bunch.

“Okay, one round of shots for my favorite team of Special Supervisory Agents, and the Good Doctor of course - do not try to back out of this, it’s happening.” Garcia returned with six shots of tequila and you winced. You’d never drank tequila and come out unscathed.

“Penelope I love you, but you know what tequila does to me,” you groan, trying to blink back the memories of the last time the poison had passed your lips. You’d been out on a girls night out, and after a few rounds of tequila and not a care in the world, you’d started answering any and every question the girls had put to you like you were under the influence of a truth serum.

“Exactly, sweetie, and it’s because I know that I want you to drink up, you’ve been secretive these last couple of days and I want to get to the bottom of it.”

“What happens when you drink, Y/N?” Reid asked. You could heart the curiosity in his voice, and like everytime you’d felt his attention on you in the last week and a half, your chest thumped painfully, trying to burst from your chest and reach out to him.

“Oh, it was hilarious. She was a venerable chatterbox, and she was so open with her opinions on everything. She was answering every question with the cutest sincerity.” Garcia filled him in on the details and you wanted to melt into the couch.

“We asked her what drink she wanted next and she monologued for ten minutes about some of the different choices on the menu and whether she thought they would taste good.” JJ continued.

“And when we asked more probing questions, she’d start by saying ‘I’m only telling you this because it’s you three and I love you,’” Emily finished for them.

Thankfully, the three of them had noticed that you were quite a bit past it that day, and that they shouldn’t be really asking you anything inappropriate that you’d regret answering. You were especially thankful for it now though, as you could only imagine the things you’d say about Reid if your tongue loosened. About how he felt when he was inside you, about how he’d given you the best orgasm of your life, about how you were in love with him and afraid that if you told him you’d never have him in your arms again.

“One shot won’t hurt, Y/N. You had like five last time before you started spouting wisdom, what’s the worst that one could do?” You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t say no to Penelope Garcia, and thinking that maybe you didn’t even want to.

“Okay, one shot, and no more.” You grabbed the salt and the lime, got ready for your shot as the others did the same, and then with one quick tip up, it was burning a trail down your throat.

“Great, now that that’s finished, I’m going to get us some real drinks, any requests?” After a few shouts for beers and cocktails, Prentiss left the table and went to order the next round.

“How about a game?” Garcia suggested innocently enough, “maybe two truths, one lie? Truth or dare?” You rolled your eyes at her probing, knowing that she only had good intentions. She’d checked in on you a few times during your time in Alaska as well, after you started moping about the loss of Reid in your bed. It had only been the fact that he’d made you promise to keep your relationship to yourselves that had stopped you from spilling everything to Garcia the morning you woke up and realised he was gone.

“Baby girl, you’re scaring the kid,” Morgan laughed from his place at your side, and you breathed a sigh of relief, until he opened his mouth again. “That being said, is there something you need to get off your chest, Y/N? You’ve been acting all sad recently.”

“I’m fine! Totally fine, just not getting enough sleep, I think.”

“Oh, is it nightmares? We’ve all had them, I think it’s part of the job description now.” Emily returned with the drinks and latched on to the end of your conversation.

“Not nightmares, mostly dreams if I’m being honest,” you sighed out, unable to catch yourself as she handed you your drink. You cursed yourself as you looked up to see the grin on her face.

“Y/N Y/L/N, are you telling me that you’ve been running on minimum hours of sleep because you’ve been getting some action?” Whenever Emily full-named you, you felt like a little kid being pulled into a principal's office. You gulped and sent her a panicked look, unable to deny but not wanting to say another word. From the corner of your eye, you tried to catch Reid’s reaction to all of this. He was nursing his drink on the sidelines, not saying anything, but a small twitch in the corner of his mouth filled in the gaps for him.

“Oh, that’s my girl.” Emily whistled at you from the other side of the table, and for the next half hour you did your best to melt into the table and not make eye-contact with Reid.

Eventually, Morgan made his way to the bar to start flirting with some girls, and JJ, Emily and Prentiss made their way to the dancefloor, leaving you and Reid alone at the table. They’d tried to convince you to get up with them, but you’d convinced them to leave you behind, with promises to join them shortly.

“So, you’re a truthful drunk, then?” Reid asked. He’d moved closer to you when Morgan had exited the booth, but not close enough to draw anyone's attention. Now with the girls gone too, he took his chances and pushed up against your side, your thighs touching, and his arm resting on the back of the booth.

“Don’t start, I barely survived that with my life, Reid, now they think I’m seeing someone,” you groaned into your hands.

“You are seeing someone. Granted it’s just me, and its not what they think…” he trailed off, still staring at you with that smile on his lips, but you barely noticed burying your head further into your hands. It was almost infuriating that he didn’t know that he’d never be ‘just’ anything to you.

“Not helping, Reid.” He chuckled and took another swig of his drink. Obviously the alcohol was starting to have some effect on him, because when he returned his glass to his coaster, the hand that was holding it fell directly onto your thigh. With his other arm practically wrapped around your shoulders, and this movement now, you could only imagine that the two of you looked like a couple having an intimate discussion to anyone walking past.

“What are you doing, Spencer?” You panic a bit, worrying that any second a coworker of yours would catch sight of the two of you and realise just who you’d been dreaming about these past few days. But your back was to the booth and it wasn’t in their line of sight at all.

“Oh, it’s Spencer again, is it? Thought you liked calling me sir,” he whispered in your ear and the feeling of his hot breath on your neck was enough to disable the brain cells that remained.

“Spencer!” You hissed under your breath at him, the heat rising in your cheeks. “Can we not do this here?” You asked, exasperated.

“Would you prefer to do this at my apartment, or yours instead? Or your car is outside, if you just want to get straight to it.” You weren’t used to this from him. Sure he was dominant when you were in the middle of the act, but before and after he was almost ten times more awkward than usual. But with a bit of liquid courage, he’d had you trapped in a corner, unable to escape, and not caring who saw you.

“Spencer, they’re going to see us. That was the rule, they can’t see us.” You whispered in a low voice, not wanting to take it any higher, despite the pounding music in the bar.

“And they won’t but you need to answer me baby, my place, your place or your car?” Your heart-race picked up as you saw the serious expression on his face. He needed this. Needed you so badly, that he couldn’t even wait for a natural exit, needing to carry you off to the nearest convenient location and have his way with you. You realised in that moment that you would drop anything just to give him what he needed.

“Car.” You said, letting go of your worries, and just letting him take care of the situation.

“Perfect, princess. Now, you’re going to lean on my arm and act like you have a headache while I go and make our excuses to the others, okay? Do not say a word, and maybe I’ll give you a nice reward, how does that sound?” You nodded vigorously at his instructions, suddenly very excited for whatever he had in store for you.

You stumbled your way to the dancefloor, tracking down Garcia and the others as Spencer informed them of your condition. The three of them tried to ask you questions, but you were sure that Spencer was serious about that reward, so you kept your mouth shut, leaning against Reid innocently and just nodding your head at the appropriate times. Morgan was still chatting at the bar, and Reid gave him a nod on the way out, knowing that he’d soon be filled in as well, and you were suddenly out the door.

“Good job, princess, you did so good for me in there.” He cooed into your ear as he guided you back to your own car. Unlocking the doors, he threw your bag into the front seats and immediately climbed into the back, pulling you along with him by your hand.

He pulled you over him, making you straddle him. You knew he wasn’t going to take his time with you, not here, but that didn’t matter. You needed it just as much as he did. You wondered for a second if his reward was going to finally be him pressing his lips to yours. You’d changed into a short skirt before joining your friends at a bar, that material so tight over your ass and thighs that in your new position, he didn’t even have to move it out of the way to gain access to you, having already ridden up all the way to your stomach.

“So beautiful baby. If you need to stop for whatever reason, you need to tap my shoulder here two times, okay?” You were confused about the introduction of a new safety gesture, but when he wrapped one of his hands around your neck and squeezed just as he starting rubbing your soaking cunt you suddenly realised it was necessary.

The strong grip on your throat was limiting your breath, the lack of oxygen you were getting intensifying every stroke he made. It was only a few minutes before he was pushing a finger into you, and beginning to pump it in and out quickly. You grabbed at the arm attached to your throat, using it for balance as you used your remaining energy to grind down desperately into his hand. He stilled his movements then, letting you use his hand to get off, humping yourself into him like a bitch in heat.

“You said you liked this, but if I’d have known you meant this much, I’d have done this much sooner.” He tightened his grip around your throat a little bit, still doing his best not to hurt you. You were seeing stars now, the car windows were fogged up from your desperate pants, and you were so close to just finishing right there on his hand.

You felt your vision go black as you finally tipped over the edge, tapping his shoulder quickly as you felt your orgasm rip through you. He instantly let go of you and caught you in his arms, wrapping them around you, and instantly doing everything to make sure you were okay.

“What’s wrong, are you okay? Did I squeeze too hard?” There was a panic in his tone, but you let your breathing even out before you replied, content with the feeling of him stroking your hair as your head rested against his chest.

“It’s okay, Spencer, it was just getting a little bit too intense for me, is all…” you let out a small yawn then and nuzzled into him in the backseat, your eyes drooping closed.

“Princess, I’m going to get you home now, okay? No more tonight.” He whispered sweetly into your hair, as you fell asleep in his arms once again. The last thing you felt before you fell under was his lips press a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

Saturday

When you woke up again, you knew you were in his arms, and your heart practically sang at the contact. Your eyes opened and there he was, next to you in your bed, face inches from yours, arms wrapped tightly around you and legs tangled in yours.

You stared at him for a few moments, not wanting to wake him and shatter the peace with awkward exits, not wanting to distance yourself from him for even a second. Your eyes drank all of him in. His messy hair, his long, delicate eyelashes, his lips. You found yourself staring at them for more than a few moments.

What would they feel like pressed into yours? You tried to bury the thought, but you just couldn’t. He was asleep, and you’d not talked about kissing when you’d discussed things you wouldn’t do. It was human nature to be curious, but the need to know him, to experience him and everything he had was consuming you from the inside, and you couldn’t help yourself.

Just as you were about to let your impulses control your movements and press a kiss to his lips, you felt him stir next to you, instantly snapping your eyes shut and laying as still as possible as he roused himself from sleep.

You felt him shift, but you could hear nothing over the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Did he know you were awake? Was he going to leave without waking you? Was he going to try to wake you up?

You felt his fingers against your cheek now, tracing a faint line down your face, and then he did something unexpected, and he cupped your face in his hand, and you felt him growing closer and closer until you felt the softest of touches against your lips and realised that he was finally kissing you.

Completely forgetting you were supposed to be asleep, you responded to his kiss, angling your head to better match his and pushing your lips back into his as he made to depart, encouraging him to keep going. He did, with each connection of your lips growing more and more passionate and loving, and like if he was given the chance he’d never stop holding you there in that moment. He only pulled away when he ran out of breath, and you were thankful that he did, as when you opened your eyes, the sight of him robbed you of yours too.

“Good morning, princess.” He whispered, tenderly, letting his forehead come to rest on yours, pressing another chaste kiss to your nose as he did so, and drawing out a giggle from you.

“Good morning, Spencer.” He drops another kiss to your lips then, almost as if now that he’s started he can’t stop.

“Spencer, please, why are you so touchy this morning?” you giggle up at him between kisses.

“I don’t know, you just looked so beautiful, is that a crime?” He smiles at you agan, continuing his kisses down your neck.

“We’ve never kissed before,” you vocalise your fear, and he stopped his movements before you could rush to backtrack.

“We haven’t? Oh god, we haven’t,” his eyes go wide as he looks down at you, his expression mirroring yours. “Shit, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just assumed after everything these past two weeks that we’d kissed at some point.”

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t apologise,” you try to speak, but he keeps going, rushing to get the words out all at once.

“I think I was misremembering kissing you, maybe I thought my dreams were real or something, so if I overstepped a boundary or something about this makes you uncomfortable, say the word and I’ll never do it again.” There was a ringing in your ears as you took in his words.

“You dreamed about kissing me?” you asked in a whisper, almost scared to hear the answer. He struggled to find the right words to say for a moment, but then he nodded.

“I thought you’d have guessed by now from my enthusiasm about all of this,” he replied, still holding you, his hands hot on your waist.

“Wait, Spencer, for how long?”

“Promise you won’t be freaked out?” He groaned, looking like he’d rather bury his face in your pillows than admit what he was about tp.

“I promise, now spill.”

“Since you joined the team. Like since the exact second. I saw you when you walked in and it was like a bomb went off in my head or something, and I had to avoid you for most of that first day so you didn’t notice I was being a creep and just imagining what it would feel like to kiss you.” The grin on your face grew with each of his words, hope sprouting there and taking root.

“God, Spencer, I thought you were uncomfortable around me. I thought you hated me a little because I threw off the group dynamic!” you laughed at your own stupidity now, raking a hand through your hair as his behaviour became more understandable, now.

“No, god no. It does take me a little bit of time to warm up to change, I’ll admit, but by the end of the first week, the change I was imagining what our kids would look like.” You froze with his words, and the roots in your heart grew deeper, twining around themselves and holding you with a fervid strength.

“Kids?” was the only word you managed to gasp out, as Spencer realised what he’d said.

“Fuck… That is, I didn’t mean to… It was just a stupid thought, if you don’t feel the same way, it’s totally fine.”

“Feel what way, Spencer?” you had to hear it from his lips, had to hear the words you so desperately needed.

“Y/N, you have to know by now that I’m obsessed with you. I can’t get enough of you, I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy for the last two weeks. I’m completely devoted to you, Y/N. I love you.” The flower in your chest bloomed, and the tears from your eyes spilled to water it.

“Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he kissed the tears away from your cheeks, happy to continue showing you his adoration from earlier, but you pulled him away, needing to look him in the eye when you said it.

“Spencer, I love you, too. Maybe I didn’t realise as soon as you did, but somewhere in my subconscious I was so aware of you, I wanted your approval so badly, wanted you to smile and laugh with me the way you were with the rest of the team. I’ve spent this last week with the words stuck in my throat because I thought you couldn’t possibly feel the same, because Spencer you deserve all the love in the world.” Your tears were free flowing now, with your confession, and you could see some moisture forming in his as well.

The two of you didn’t need to say anything more after that, your lips doing all the communicating for you.

These kisses were different, so much deeper, more romantic, more needy. He moved his leg over you and pressed some of his weight down into you, wrapping you in his warmth. He pulled away from your lips to continue further down your neck. Each time he pulled away, he whispered a confession into your skin.

“Spencer, I want to feel you inside of me, please.” You moaned into his touch, and he quickly agreed. Now that you two knew you had each other, you wanted to waste no time. He was hard already, having woken up with the perfect reason to hold you. He carefully lifted your legs up and apart, giving himself all the space he needed to make love to you.

“God, you’re so perfect for me,” he said, pausing to spit down on your pussy, spreading the wetness with his heavy cock. He sat there rubbing himself against you for a few minutes, his lips having reconnected with yours, swallowing every moan you made, along with any he couldn’t control from himself.

The two of you were so lost in each other, in the moment, that it felt like it lasted forever. With one last rub to your sensitive areas, he lined himself up with your hole, and slowly lowered himself in. Encouraging you to hold your knees up into a tighter position, he grabbed your hips and began setting a relentless pace. It wasn’t the slow sensual fuck from your motel room, or even the hard and fast mess of your first time in the file room, but somewhere in the middle. You could feel the passion and the love he held for you in his kisses, and the lust you had cultivated over the weeks in each thrust, and it was driving you absolutely crazy.

“Yes, Spencer just like that, fuck,” you moaned out when he finally moved away from your lips, pressing his mouth into your neck again and biting down. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but just hard enough that the pain heightened your pleasure.

With each thrust, your arms became weaker and weaker, your legs shaking furiously as he gave you all of him.

“Come on baby, just a few more, you can hold out for a few more,” he whispered in your ear, licking and sucking at the place he’d left his bite mark.

“I don’t think I can, I don’t think I can for musch longer, Spencer, please,” you whimpered your arms falling away from your legs. He replaced yours with his, pushing your body further into the bed, doing all the work and letting you just experience it.

“Okay, baby, you did great, you think you can come on my cock now, baby?” He asked and you immediately nodded, feeling the tell-tale bubbling of your orgasm beginning to rush through you. Your whole body stiffened as you screamed, his pace unrelenting as he rode you through the orgasm. He moved one hand down to your clit, rubbing you through it and keeping you sensitive, and even though you’d just had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, you knew he meant to make you do it again.

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. I love you, sweetie, you’re doing so perfect for me,” you gasped and moaned into his ear, unable to think for the twitching in your cunt, driven slowly insane by the sensitivity.

“I’m almost there, baby, gonna fill your cunt with my seed.” He grunted in your ear, grabbing either side of your neck in his hands, resting his forehead against yours and thrusting harder and harder into you. You felt the second wave start to hit then, more drawn out than the first as he did his best to breed you, to plant himself firmly inside of you. He lasted only a few more thrusts before his hips stilled, bottomed out inside of you, and you felt rope after rope of his cum spurt into you.

“Fuck, princess, I love you.” He pressed another quick kiss y=to your lips, but you were whimpering from the continued contact now, and he quickly pulled out. He stopped to watch his cum drip out of you, knowing that he’d fully claimed you now, that you were his forever, and, resisting the urge to push into you again, left to grab something to clean you up with.

You laid there, gently coaxing your legs back into a comfortable position until he came back. He cleaned you up, bundled you up in some fresh pajamas, and returned you to the bed, wrapping you up in his arms once again, almost as if nothing had happened.

“It’s saturday, so we can just relax for the rest of the day, okay, princess?” You hid your face in his chest and nodded your approval, gently shutting out the rest of the world. It was you and him now, everyday of the week it was you and him.

Sunday

After two weeks of constant attention, you had to set a boundary with your new boyfriend very quickly, and you chose breakfast on the sunday morning to do it.

“Spencer, you know I love you, right?” you opened the conversation, filling up his coffee mug as he set the small table in the corner of your kitchen.

“Yes, you said it 246 times yesterday. I said it 274 times, but whose keeping count, right?” You laughed at him, and pulled him into a hug quickly, pressing a chaste kiss onto his lips.

“I love you, but we need to talk again.” You smiled up at him, trying your best to keep your poker face as you threatened to crack seeing his eyebrows knit together.

“Did I do something wrong?” he quickly asked, but you stroked his hair reassuringly, signaling for him to just listen to you.

“I really like my job, you know. I like working out in the field.” You smiled up at him, watching his confusion deepen.

“But if you keep fucking me like I’m a little whore everyday of the week, it’s only going to be a matter of time until I can’t walk, you know?”

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

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delulustateofmind · 22 days ago

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Yan! JJK Men x Reader: You're sick. Literally.

Description: Oh no, you got sick? Poor thing? Luckily the gorgeous man who kidnapped you will take good care of little ol you!

Characters: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami

TW: Mentions of sick things (throwing up, coughing, ya'know sick stuff), Yandere behaviors, Pet names. Reader is a non sorcerer. Suguru didn't defect, still an insane yan though. Nanami's is the darkest.

WC: 3.9k

A/n: Comfort fic for ME. Some little gremlin at my job got me sick. This could be...better? Idk my mind hazy but I couldn't sleep without writing out my little silly thoughts.

Satoru - You'll be smothered to death

You got sick.

Of course, it would happen now, while Satoru was off on one of his endless missions, leaving you to fend for yourself in the pristine prison he called an apartment. He hadn’t been home in days, blissfully clueless to the fact that even swallowing felt like trying to gulp down shards of glass. Your muscles ached, your head throbbed, and every inch of you craved nothing more than a warm drink and a blanket.

Dragging yourself to the kitchen, you held onto a sliver of hope—maybe there was tea or, if you were really lucky, a sad packet of instant ramen. But every cabinet you opened revealed a whole lot of nothing. Great. You checked the fridge next. Also empty, naturally. Your meals were always mysteriously delivered by someone you'd never met while Satoru was away. Maybe they'd bring you soup…or were you destined for another serving of that fancy sushi you could barely stomach in this state?

You almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of complaining about such “luxuries.”

And cooking for yourself? Yeah, right. Satoru had confiscated the knives ages ago, forbidding you from using them unless he was there to watch over you like the lovesick freak he was. You cast a sarcastic, vulgar gesture toward one of the many cameras he’d installed around the apartment. Not that he’d ever actually check the footage, right? …Right?

With a sigh, you shuffled into the bathroom, opening one cabinet after another, desperate for something—anything—that could bring a sliver of relief. A cough drop, even a crusty, ancient one, would’ve been a miracle right now. But no, it seemed that the only things Satoru deemed essential were shea butters, body scrubs, and various impractical “essentials.” Your throat burned, each swallow a new brand of torture, and frustration prickled behind your eyes.

Before you knew it, you’d sunk to the floor, tears slipping down your cheeks as exhaustion took over. You tried to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but it came out as more of a weak wheeze. Trapped, sick, and utterly alone, you let yourself drift off on the cold tiles, surrounded by empty cabinets and an even emptier feeling gnawing at your chest.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but the faint sound of the front door clicking open stirred you from your feverish dreams. Footsteps echoed through the apartment, far too energetic to belong to anyone but him. You groaned softly, squinting against the bright light as Satoru’s familiar voice filtered through the fog of your headache.

“Yoo-hoo! I’m home, sweet cheeks! Did you miss me?”

You tried to sit up, but the ache in your muscles protested, leaving you slumped against the wall. Before you could answer, Satoru poked his head into the bathroom, his usual grin plastered on his face—though it faltered as his blue eyes landed on you. In an instant, he was crouched at your side, his hands hovering around you as if he couldn’t decide where to start.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he tutted, his grin morphing into a mock pout. “Did you get all pathetic while I was gone?” His fingers found your forehead, and he clicked his tongue, his eyes widening as he felt the heat radiating from your skin. “You’re burning up! Were you planning to bake yourself in here like a cute little fever muffin? And why didn’t you ping me?”

Ah, yes. The pager. Right. Because apparently, pagers were still a thing in Satoru’s world.

You groaned, trying to turn your face away from his intense stare. “Satoru… I was fine.”

“Fine?” he echoed, clearly amused. “Yeah, sure, if by ‘fine’ you mean pathetically slumped on the bathroom floor.” Without warning, he swept you into his arms, ignoring your weak protests as he carried you to the bedroom. He laid you down with the same exaggerated care he reserved for something truly precious, pulling the soft white sheets over your shivering frame.

“Do you realize,” he said, half-joking, half-scolding, “how irresponsible it was to get sick while I was gone? Honestly, you should know better.” He bundled the blankets around you so tightly that you could barely wiggle a finger. “You don’t have permission to be sick without me around.”

“Permission?” you mumbled, your voice muffled, eyes half-lidded as the fever continued to fog up your mind.

“Exactly!” He ruffled your hair with that chipper enthusiasm. “If I’d been here, I would’ve made sure you ate properly. And I would’ve personally spoon-fed you medicine—doesn't that sound delightful?” His eyes sparkled with a teasing glint, though there was something unsettlingly serious beneath it.

“Are you going to… let me breathe in here?” you managed to ask, noting just how thoroughly he’d cocooned you.

“Oh, no no,” he chuckled, settling onto the edge of the bed with an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction. “You’re not escaping my care now. Not after letting yourself get sick while I was gone.” He leaned in close, his face inches from yours, that unnervingly charming smile back in place. “I’m on nurse duty, and you’re my sole patient. Lucky you, huh?”

You whined as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. Sure, he was sweet, even doting at times. But he was also, without a doubt, a little bit of a freak. He left, claiming he’d be back with “supplies” that you could only imagine were absurdly over the top.

An hour later, he returned, brandishing a spoon and a cup of soup, and propped you up as if you were some doll. “Now, open up,” he cooed, lifting the spoon with exaggerated gentleness. “You’re going to eat every bite, and then we’re binging every Studio Ghibli movie you’ve never seen. You love those, right? You mentioned it on our first date.” His eyes flashed, a brief, intense look that was almost… possessive, before softening again. “And if I hear even a hint of a cough, I might just smother you in blankets until you forget what a cold feels like.”

You tried to roll your eyes, but the warmth of the soup soothed your throat, and despite the fever still clawing at you, you managed a faint smile. Satoru kept feeding you, chattering on about his mission, each story punctuated with exaggerated gestures that made the soup tremble on the spoon. His presence was overwhelming, but, for once, you didn’t mind.

“See?” he said proudly when you’d finished, grinning down at you like a smug nurse. “All you need is a little Gojo love, and you’re practically healed already.”

He moved to start up Porco Rosso, something you’d never seen but that he insisted you’d adore.

But as he fussed over you, you caught a flicker of worry in his playful eyes—a soft, fleeting look, as though he truly believed you were the most fragile thing in his world. And despite everything, despite the suffocating way he hovered, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Perhaps in a way you were growing insane day by day. He’d stay by your side, even if you were only here because he’d pulled you into his world and held on so tightly, refusing to let go, because losing you was something he couldn’t bear. He couldn't lose someone so important to him.

Suguru - Just let him take care of you, yeah?

Your muscles ached, and your eyes felt swollen, as though you’d cried them shut. Everything hurt, every shiver that wracked your body twisting the ache deeper. Cold sweat clung to you, dampening the sheets that Suguru had so carefully arranged around you. You were caught between chills and feverish heat, unable to reconcile how you could be shivering and sweating all at once.

He’d left early this morning after a long, restless night, one that left its marks painted across your skin. The ache wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, but you could still feel each bruise, each bite—a reminder of his hands, his mouth, his possessive need to leave you claimed. Maybe that was why your muscles were so sore, why each breath felt like it only barely filled your lungs.

You swallowed, the pain flaring in your throat. You stared up at the wooden beams of the traditional ceiling, another piece of this house he’d locked you in—for your own good, as he liked to remind you. Once, you’d tried to tell him you needed space, that the relationship was too much, that he was too much. Now, the only “space” you had was this house, shared with him, furnished to his tastes. The traditional Japanese garden beyond the window, with its perfectly placed stones and swaying bamboo, felt like a prison as much as it did a picturesque scene out of a movie.

You drifted off to the rhythmic patter of rain against the shoji screens, wondering how he'd react when he saw you like this. Unease filled you.

A sound brought you back, barely louder than the rain—a soft, padded footfall just beyond the sliding door. A familiar twinge of anxiety stirred in your stomach, the kind you had yet to shake whenever he approached. The door slid open with practiced care, his silhouette filling the frame before stepping inside.

"My love?" Suguru's voice was gentle, almost reverent, as he moved toward you, closing the distance with graceful precision. His violet eyes swept over you, dark with concern, though a small smile tugged at his lips, as though he found a strange beauty in your frailty.

“You’re not feeling well, are you?” he murmured, his voice softening further as he knelt beside you. A sick smile on his lips as if he enjoyed this. One of his hands brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead, his touch tender, and intimate. “You poor thing… it’s no wonder. You’ve been keeping everything bottled up. All those silly little thoughts and worries…”

He pressed a warm cloth to your forehead, his fingers gentle, almost soothing. Yet there was something in his touch—a possessiveness, a kind of pride in seeing you like this, dependent on his care, trapped under his gaze.

“You know,” he whispered, his voice low and sweet as he continued to smooth back your hair, “you don’t have to hold back with me. I’ll take care of everything—everything you could ever need. I’ll make sure you never have to worry about a single thing. Not your health, not your happiness… not even your freedom.” His smile softened as his hand moved to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking softly, possessively. “All you have to do is trust me, my love.”

A faint shiver went through you, whether from the fever or his touch, you couldn’t be sure. You tried to turn your face away, but his hand held you firmly, coaxing your gaze back to him. “Rest, darling,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll stay by your side. I’ll make sure you’re safe, warm. Isn’t that what you need?”

His eyes, gentle yet held something so dark in those violet irises, held a depth of obsession that left no room for refusal, and despite the fever clouding your mind, you could feel it—the certainty that no matter how many walls you tried to build, Suguru would tear them down, piece by piece, until all you had was him.

The last thing you heard as sleep overtook you was his voice, murmuring soft reassurances, as he brushed his lips over your forehead.

Suguru adjusted his hold, wrapping the blanket more snugly around you as he cradled you closer, pressing a few soft kisses to the top of your head. You felt his fingers trail down your arm, gentle yet something dark lurked under such a touch, as though even your feverish skin was something precious to him.

He shifted, leaving the bed momentarily, though his gaze never wavered from you, his eyes flickering with a hint of unease at the brief separation. He returned a moment later, a bowl of rice porridge.

Something he must have prepared while you were half-asleep. “I made this just for you. Something gentle, soothing… I didn’t add anything too spicy; I know your throat’s sore.”

He carefully lifted the spoon to your lips, watching intently as you sipped with half-lidded hazy eyes. “Good girl,” he encouraged softly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Eat up. I’ll make sure you do. I’ll stay right here, feeding you every bite if that’s what it takes.”

You shifted slightly, trying to sit up more reaching for the spoon, but Suguru’s hand pressed gently against your shoulder, holding you down. “Ah, ah, don’t try to get up, my love,” he chided, a faintly scolding edge to his tone. “You’re in no condition to move around.” He gave a soft sigh, though there was a smile in his eyes as he leaned closer, “Just rest. Let me dote on you as much as you deserve. I don’t mind taking care of every little thing.”

He continued to feed you with small, measured bites, murmuring reassurances and encouragements with each spoonful, as though the simple act of eating was an accomplishment he was proud of. “That’s it,” he whispered. “You’re doing so well. Just a little more, love… There’s no need to be shy.”

As you finished, he wiped your mouth gently, his gaze softening as he watched you with a near-adoring smile. “There,” he said, his tone full of satisfaction as if he had achieved something profound just by keeping you fed. He pulled the blankets back up, tucking them so tightly around you that it was almost suffocating, as though he feared even a single draft could harm you.

With a sudden look of inspiration, he began fussing over the room itself, adjusting the windows, pulling the shoji screens shut just a bit tighter. “Can’t have any chills sneaking in, can we?” he said, more to himself than you. “You need warmth, peace… not a hint of discomfort.” He glanced back at you with a pleased smile, clearly contented by the thought of keeping every single detail in perfect order.

Finally, he returned to your side, pulling you back into his arms, and settling you against his chest again. “There we go,” he murmured, his fingers combing carefully through your hair, untangling every knot with precise, gentle strokes. “You don’t need to worry about anything—not about what you’ll eat, not about what you’ll wear, not even about how you’ll get up tomorrow. I’ll handle every little thing.”

You tried to shift, but his hold only tightened, his warmth both comforting and stifling. “Just relax, my love,” he crooned, his lips brushing your temple. “All you have to do is lie here and be good for me, let me keep you safe. I’ll take care of every breath you take if I have to.”

A faint pang of claustrophobia crept in as he held you, but his soothing, rhythmic touch on your hair made it hard to resist sinking back against him. His fingers trailed down your spine, rubbing gentle, possessive circles as he murmured sweet nothings, his voice a soft, dark lullaby.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his tone dipping into something almost dangerous, though his touch remained gentle. “There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep you safe, keep you here with me.” He stroked your cheek, his gaze intense as he watched you, his face softening as he took in every detail of your weakened state. “So don’t even think about leaving, whether that be in life or death.”

In his embrace, you felt yourself drifting once more, lulled by the warmth, by the touch that was both smothering and tender. And as you lulled to sleep, you couldn’t shake the feeling that with every little act of care, every gentle touch, Suguru was binding you tighter and tighter, locking you in a world where you would always be his to protect—his, and only his.

Nanami - Just to be sure

You awoke abruptly in the night, a sickening wave rising in your stomach. You slipped from his tight grip as quietly as you could, pressing a hand over your mouth as you stumbled to the bathroom, desperate to make it in time. The door shut behind you with a muffled slam, and you collapsed in front of the toilet, gripping the cold porcelain as your body heaved, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. You didn't care whether your captor heard you or not as you continued to drain every ounce of you. You slumped over the seat, letting your cheek rest against your arm as you tried to steady yourself.

But then came the soft, deliberate click of the lock turning. Your heart plummeted as his shadow filled the doorway. Nanami’s gaze was heavy, his sigh almost… indulgent, as if he’d expected this. You couldn’t even bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"Rough night?" he murmured, his tone deceptively soft. In his hand, you heard the faint rustling of cardboard being opened. Medicine, perhaps? You flinched, a prickle of fear clawing up your spine, as your eyes met the cardboard box. "Here," he said, stepping forward and extending a small, pink test between his fingers. "Take this for me.”

The sight of the pregnancy test twisted your stomach again, but this time with a different kind of nausea. You swallowed hard, feeling your hands tremble as you stared at the item he held out so calmly, that familiar, unsettling smile ghosting over his lips.

“Please,” he continued, voice coaxing, his smile a bit too unsettling. “It’s the holidays, after all. Good news would mean so much to me.” His eyes gleamed with a strange intensity, one that made your skin crawl. “Ino and Yuji would love to hear about our little addition.”

Your hands shook as you took the test from his hands, too frightened to refuse, too exhausted to protest. You didn’t dare push him further. You knew what lengths he would go to. You were lucky he wasn't forcing you to piss on it on the spot. The lines between his kindness and his control had long since blurred, and you knew the cost of defiance.

“Could you… step out?” you whispered, your voice barely above a rasp. His expression tightened, a flicker of annoyance clouding his face before he relented, stepping back, but only leaving the door open a sliver.

“I won’t look,” he promised, though his voice carried that familiar edge. “But I’ll be right here in case you… need me.”

His words hung ominously in the silence, and even with him just outside, you felt his presence pressing in on you, felt the weight of his watchful attention. Fucking freak. You forced yourself to go through with it, nerves fraying with each second, each stolen glance you imagined him taking through the door. Finally, the result appeared: one line. Negative.

When you opened the door, he stood waiting, his face unreadable, his gaze fixed. He didn’t say a word, simply handed you another test, and then another, his lips thinning further with each negative result.

A dark shadow crossed his face as he let out a slow, disappointed sigh. “Must just be a stomach bug, then,” he murmured, his tone clipped, tinged with quiet frustration and disappointment. He reached for you, his touch firm as he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you to the shower, reaching to lift the hem of your nightgown. "Let's get you bathed, shall we? My little wife." he said softly.

The words hung heavy in the air—my little wife. There was a possessiveness in his tone, one that sent a fresh wave of dread coursing through you. His hands, steady and unrelenting, guided the straps of your nightgown over your shoulders and down your arms, letting it fall to the floor in a soft whisper of fabric. You felt his gaze travel over you, inspecting you as if to memorize every detail, every inch of skin he considered his.

He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature with his usual calm precision. The warm water began to fill the silence, though it did nothing to wash away the creeping chill that had settled in your bones. His hand remained on your shoulder, a steadying presence that felt more like a shackle than a comfort.

“Step in,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost coaxing, as though this were some intimate, shared moment between husband and wife, as though you’d chosen to be here.

You stepped under the water, feeling its warmth spread over you, but Nanami didn’t move away. Instead, he reached for a cloth, lathering it with soap, his movements deliberate, almost ritualistic. He ran the cloth over your shoulder, then down your arm. You could feel the weight of his gaze, his attention never wavering.

“My little wife,” he murmured again, the words slipping from his lips with unsettling ease. “You’re too fragile. You need someone to look after you… how do expect us to build a family, if you don't let me take care of you?”

His touch moved to your back, the cloth trailing down your spine. Every motion was painstakingly slow, as if he was savoring the moment, drawing it out. His fingers pressed just a little too firmly, a subtle reminder of the control he held, his grip tightening slightly whenever he sensed the faintest hint of resistance.

“You’ve been so stubborn,” he continued, his voice a quiet murmur just above the sound of the water. “I’ve had to go to such lengths to make sure you’re safe, to make sure you understand that this is where you belong. With me.”

You swallowed, the words dying in your throat as you felt the cloth glide down your arm again, his movements lingering, methodical. He was talking as if he truly believed this—his delusion woven so deeply into his mind that he couldn’t see it for what it was.

As he finished, he reached to turn off the water, his hand lingering on the knob for a moment before he looked back at you, his smile too kind for comfort. “I’ll dry you off,” he said, almost tenderly, reaching for a thick towel off the counter and wrapping it around your shoulders.

He guided you out of the shower, his hold firm as he began patting your skin dry with a soft towel. His hand brushed your cheek, wiping away a stray droplet, his gaze softening in a way that would’ve seemed caring if not for the dark gleam beneath it.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his voice low and sickeningly sweet.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but before you could pull away, he held you tighter, pressing his lips softly to your forehead, a mockingly gentle gesture that only served to deepen your dread.

“Let’s get you back to bed, my little wife,” he murmured, his tone soft and full of sickening love that made your skin crawl. He guided you out of the bathroom, his hand firm on the small of your back, and with every step, you could feel the walls of your world closing in, tighter and tighter, until there was no room left for escape.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #yandere geto suguru #soft yandere #yandere geto x reader #yandere gojo #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere jjk #yandere nanami x reader #yandere nanami kento #yandere nanami

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r3leee · 17 days ago

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OKAY FINE YOU HORNY SLUTS

you get smut 😒😒 this is the last time i'm installing on this tho

pairing: dom!billie eilish x sub!fem!reader

summary: part 2 to this fic, which is based off this ramble (idk why this is such a rabbit hole omfg)

warnings: RPF!! don’t like, don’t read, THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT bear with me 😭🙏🏻, established relationship, hickeys, oral, overstimulation, i guess a little bit of cum play??, pet names (mama, ma, sweet girl, baby), strap + strap sucking, aftercare (all r receiving)

word count: 1,757, should take about thirteen and a half minutes to read

listen to: needy by ariana grande

finneas walked back to his room without a second glance. and as soon as the door shut, your girlfriend took the blanket off you. "come here. we're good now."

IT TOOK ONLY a matter of seconds for her to pounce on you. you'd only ever seen her like this a few times before. but every time it happened, you would try your best to ravish the feeling. because when billie was like this, you were getting treated right until you were ruined.

your back lay flush against the fluffy hotel pillows while your girlfriend grabbed your face and kissed you. rough. hard. almost with a force that knocked the wind out of you. oh ya, you were getting fucked.

she didn't stay near your face for long. but instead of reaching for your neck like she usually did, she instead reached for the top of your dress. since it was strapless, she was going to have a relatively easy time getting it off. "arms up."

you commanded to her words, putting your hands up as she pulled the shiny dress over your skin. what she found excited her even more. "no bra? oh, baby, you know what you're doing." the nickname. baby. it rolled off her tongue so well, so sultrly. it gave you goosebumps.

"and your nipples are hard?" accentuating her words, she wrapped her hands around your chest and rubbed the buds over her thumbs. not with any pressure, though. just so you could feel it there. "this is evidence, sweet girl. you found that hot and you know it."

suddenly, you felt a sharp pinch on your right nipple. it made you gasp. she just smirked and leaned down, quickly using her tongue to soothe the pain. you threw your head back as she started to rub your left nipple like previously.

after a while, when she was satisfied, she pulled away and switched nipples. it was like a game to her to see how much you could take. she, at some point, started to suck so hard you swore it would leave marks.

one she felt she had enough, she took her mouth off you. she stuck her tongue out, running a line down your cleavage. she went slowly, her tongue trailing down your body feeling like fire. her tongue quickly dipped in the trench of your belly button before reaching just above your clit.

right as she reached your pussy, she looked up at you. there were no words exchanged, but you could tell what she was asking you. if this was okay. that’s the thing you loved about your girlfriend. no matter how desperate she was, if you told her to stop, she would. but, as you nodded, her soft gaze got thrown away.

today wasn’t a teasing day. hell, barely even a prep day. almost immediately, she was on you like a prisoner eating their final meal.

billie left no mercy as she ate you out. her tongue took on different patterns, too spontaneous with her movement to care.

she seemed to do something new every few seconds. it transitioned from licking up and down your folds to sucking your clit to sliding her tongue down and into your entrance in such a way it made tears form in the corner of your eyes.

you whined and pulled her hair, making her chuckle into you. the action made you seem to fall even harder, the vibrations easing just the right ache.

billie was relentless. it was often she got engulfed in your pussy, not wanting to stop pleasing you until you were begging her not to. but this was different. it was feral the way she was licking up your arousal that was spilling onto her tongue. it was almost like she wanted to completely clean you out, not wanting a single part of you untouched.

once you’d finally announced you were close with a high pitched moan, she didn’t even seem as if she heard you. she just kept up, sucking your sensitive bud and rolling her tongue around it.

when you did cum, it was fuzzy. it felt like laying on a cloud. well, only for a bit. until you realized billie was nowhere near done with you, licking up her reward.

“ billie, bills! oh my god, bills, i came, i came!” your voice was high pitched as you squirmed, trying to get out of her iron clad grip on your thighs.

for whatever reason, which you didn’t expect, she released, making a little “pop!” as if she was just sucking on a lollipop. to her, it was candy either way.

she quickly wiped her mouth with her sleeve before taking her pointer finger and sticking it back inside. you jolted, but she quickly took it out before you could whine again.

it was jarring the way she licked your release off her finger. but it was hot. it made you feel warm all over again, wanting her to devour you again and again and again.

billie crawled back up to kiss you lips. you could taste yourself on her tongue, making you reel. she pulled away quickly, a string of saliva connecting you. “i’m gonna get the strap,” she mumbled frantically.

you nodded, not at all complaining. you laid on your back, eagerly waiting as your girlfriend hopped off the bed and toward her suitcase. of course she brought the strap to a different country. of course she did.

you watched with hungry eyes as she undid the buckle on her belt, shimming her pants down to harness the fake dick around her waist.

as she walked back to the bed, she stopped right at the foot of it. you tilted your head in confusion. “come here, mama, suck on it.”

you obeyed to her request, hopping off the bed and settling on your knees on the floor. you didn’t immediately take the whole thing in at once, instead just going for the tip.

you hollowed your cheeks as if billie could feel the thing (which she always swore she could.) “mhm, just like that, baby, just like that.” she gently pushed your head forward, seeing just how far you could take the indigo dildo.

once she’d decided you’d had enough, she commanded you off. immediately, you got on your back, easing into the pillows.

billie crawled on the bed to get into position. she cupped your face, giving you one more kiss, before grabbing the strap. she ran the tip of the dildo up and down your folds, collecting your slick. “you ready for it, ma?” she asked as she lined it up with your entrance.

“yes.” she didn’t need to be told twice. immediately, she sunk into your pussy, bottoming out. although you had a few different dildos that you two used, this one was the one you used the most. so, it was no surprise how your pussy immediately engulfed the silicone, almost like it for perfectly.

you groaned and threw your head back as billie drew tight circles on your clit with her finger. “just tell me when i can move,” she spoke in a tone so soft it almost wasn’t like she didn’t just put 7 inches of silicone inside you.

after a while, you nodded.

billie didn’t need to be told twice.

her thrusts started off gentle and calm, moving her hips to only take an inch out and put it back into your waiting hole. the slow speed of these thrusts made it so you could feel everything: the gentle touch of billie’s thighs against yours, the dildo pressing so nicely on your walls.

you were content with this. but, billie wasn’t. at some point, it seemed she got bored, as she strung on of your legs over her shoulder and went faster.

the new angle made her be able to penetrate that spot all the way in the back that made you see stars. and with the speed and hardness she was going, the pleasure only multiplied.

“oh, fuck, billie, yaaa, right there,” you encouraged her. she only laughed and nodded in response.

it didn’t take long for the sound of skin slapping on skin to take over the room. well, if you could even hear that over your moans. billie was fucking you with a rawness she hadn’t shown in a while.

you swore you could feel the strap kissing your cervix with every thrust, making you unable to stop letting out sounds. little “uh, uh, uh, uh”s filled the room every time she thrust.

but, who could blame you? the strap was so deep you swore if you looked down, you could see it peeking through your stomach. but you couldn’t even lift your head. the pleasure was too good.

your tits bounced as billie pounded into you, causing her to reach down and take your nipples between her fingers. “oh, you like this?” she teased you. “ya, you like me fucking you like this? like you deserve? ya, i know, i know, it just feels so good…”

the feeling of your hard nipples being played with combined with the damage your girlfriend was doing to your pussy was starting to make you feel overwhelmed. like you were about to fall off the edge.

“billie, shit, i-i’m close,” you said out. “can i cum? please, can i cum, please please please…” that made her smile.

“you don’t gotta beg me, baby. just let go.”

and let go you did. you slapped a hand over your mouth as your back arched off the bed. white hot was all you could see as billie slowed down, letting you ride out your high.

once you were done and could feel the seepage dripping out of you, you took your hand off your mouth, heavily breathing.

billie leaned down to kiss your lips. she smiled into it before pulling away. “you doing okay?” she asked. you nodded. “i’m gonna pull out now, okay?”

in a few seconds, the strap was out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing. she quickly undid the harness and threw it somewhere across the room for her to wash later.

she pulled you into your arms and kissed your head, rubbing your back. “you did so good for me, sweet girl. thank you for letting me do that.”

you hid your face into her neck and spoke. “of course, bills.”

she grinned and kissed your forehead. “okay, you go pee, then i’ll run you a shower, ya?” she proposed. you nodded and went to crawl off the bed.

“hey!” she called out one more time. you turned your head back to look at her.

“i love you.” you beamed.

“i love you, too.”

#Spotify #so this was interesting #something possessed me writing this idk #cuz i SWEAR i have no idea how i did this #anyways pretend like this is good guyz!!!#billie eilish #billie eilish smut #reader insert #rpf #real person fanfiction #smut #wlw #billie eilish x reader

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svsssbrainworms · 2 months ago

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🍃 SVSSS fic rec list

(shen yuan / bingqiu -centric edition) 2/3

[ shen twins; canon divergence/time travel ]

shen twins

• second-hand alibis

“All right. I’m in Proud Immortal Demon Way," he says, once he's had a chance to compose himself again. He sits back up, tossing his stupidly long hair back over his shoulders where it belongs; he is totally calm and ready to grill the System for more information. "Who am I supposed to be? "Please please please don't let it be someone who Bingge violently murders. Though given the fact that he's a man in PIDW, his chances are already skewed, and not in his favor. Ugh. [Bound Role: Shen Yuan, Rogue Cultivator. Weapon: the sword Heng Li. Starting B-points: 100.] or: Shen Yuan transmigrates as a rogue cultivator, one completely unconnected to any canon characters or events. Right, System? Right?

• Wherever You Go, I Will Follow (The Scum Villain Early Intervention System)

Something goes a little sideways and Shen Yuan accidentally transmigrates into Proud Immortal Demon Way as a shitty, System-generated self-insert OC. At first, his goals are simple: survive, discover the world, and maybe even become a cultivator! It all seems to be working out alright. That is, until he discovers that there is more to his new identity than he previously thought: Shen Yuan has a twin, and it's none other than the future scum villain, Shen Qingqiu! As such, their fates have been inevitably linked together. The world is a dark place. Will they be able to make it through?

canon divergence 🦋 / time travel 🕰

🦋 • the pale morning sings of forgotten things

Mu Qingfang offers him a small bronze mirror. Shen Qingqiu takes it—evidently there’s no more putting this off. He looks into the mirror. A teenager, his hair and robes askew, his face streaked with blood, stares dully back at him. Ah, he realizes. Beneath the blood, half of it smeared across his face as though he had started to wipe it away at one point, he looks to be in his middling-to-late teens. Probably around seventeen or maybe eighteen— Pain stabs deep in his chest. That’s how old Luo Binghe is.Was. or: at the edge of the Abyss, Shen Qingqiu has a qi deviation. When he wakes, he finds he has lost far more than he can bear--or than he realizes.

🦋 • fuel the embers with the flames of your soul

Trapped in Huan Hua’s Water Prison, Shen Yuan’s illness from his previous life relapses.

🦋 • Sung From the Ashes

Things go decidedly worse in the water prison as everyone underestimates just how much Lao Gongzhu hates Shen Qingqiu. Now Shen Yuan has to figure out how to live in the aftermath of his experiences while Luo Binghe finds more and more ways to self-destruct. They'll meet in the middle someday if Gongyi Xiao has anything to say on the matter.

🦋 • Inappropriate Use May Result in Strange Side Effects

In PIDW, there was a certain legendary cup which when used to make tea with even a single thread of another’s hair or a drop of their blood switches bodies with the person who drank it. It turns out… if you don’t use it appropriately it’ll either not work at all because it has no target, or will swap you with your soul mate. Too bad Luo Binghe had no idea about that. He was just going to drink tea and somehow he found himself in Shen Qingqiu’s body, staring at his own sword mound. Oh and what the absolute hell is the ringing in his ear?

🦋 • Separate Ways

There are plenty of skills one can pick up in the Endless Abyss if curious or just desperate enough. The shape changing had been explained as being able to look like other people. This isn’t what happens when Luo Binghe tries it. What happens is that he’s transformed into a tiny dog with masses of curly black fur. When he catches his reflection while transformed, his first thought is, Shizun would definitely want to pet me. (Or, the one where Luo Binghe can turn into a dog, infiltrates Qing Jing, and seeks Shizun's affections through fluffy subterfuge)

🦋 • Dreaming of Gardens in the Desert Sand

Huan Hua Palace master Luo Binghe never thought there'd be any reason to worry about the master that threw him away all those years ago. Surely, he was safe and cared for by the martial siblings he'd so thoroughly enamored. Luo Binghe was wrong. (Or, the one where the Jinlan City event doesn't happen and Luo Binghe's plan to slowly show he can be a righteous cultivator actually goes as he expected, with consequences he did not)

🕰 • Metagaming

[Self-Saving System Activated! You will be now returned to your original starting position.] Shen Qingqiu dies and gets a second chance and decides to try a different approach.

🦋 • Shen Yuan's Forced Shen Qingqiu Redemption Arc

The System's OOC function won't unlock all at once - instead, character traits have to be added individually, through quests. This leads to Shen Qingqiu having to jump through endless hoops just to complete enough side quests to unlock the ability to be a decent person - all while avoiding the effects it has on those around him. If only the cheapskate System wouldn't keep changing the cost of point values - he needs to know what the hell Yue Qingyuan told the others about him that makes them all look so sad when he does manage to be nice! He's breaking his back here, can't we just appreciate his work?!

🦋 • If You Don't Have Store-Bought Character Growth, Homemade is Fine

When Shen Qingqiu fails his first mission, he loses the opportunity to unfreeze the OOC function. He has to go through the events of the story in-character as the original goods. He's definitely getting human sticked. Meanwhile, Luo Binghe is getting paranoid that his Shizun has started being nice to him. In a really mean way.

🦋 • In Durance Veil

Right, the villain's beautiful daughter, who had caught a glimpse of the Protagonist from afar and, naturally, fell madly in love at first sight. She'd used her knowledge of her father's lair to sneak into the dungeon where Luo Binghe was being held and eventually proved the key to his escape, betraying her father for love. "So, you want to try to find some random girl who's willing to sneak in past the guards to Luo Binghe's prison and..." "What random girl could we possibly trust? I'll do it myself!" "You know what," Shang Qinghua said. "Somehow I feel like I should have expected this." --- Shen Qingqiu self-detonated at Hua Yue City, but he didn't die. Instead, he wakes up to a world where Cang Qiong is victorious and Luo Binghe has been imprisoned beneath the mountain. What's a poor transmigrator to do? He has to find a way to free the Protagonist before he breaks out and razes the Sect to the ground! Clearly, the best way to do this is to pretend to be one of Luo Binghe's future wives. Clearly.

🦋 • Into the Abyss

In which Shen Yuan pisses the System off and it sends him straight into the Endless Abyss. Four years later, Shen Qingqiu does the same to Luo Binghe.

🦋 • Bamboo Shoot of Resentment

Falling prey to an unusual curse after the Immortal Alliance Conference was the last thing Shen Yuan expected from this dumpster fire of a porn novel. But here the transmigrator is — inflicted with a demonic womb he absolutely did not ask for, and a new burden he didn’t even think was possible. And maybe, Shen Yuan is just a bit tired of it all.

🦋 • He Was Made For Untidy Rooms and Rumpled Beds

Shen Qingqiu kind of, sort of, does not have the same modesty standards as a xianxia novel set in some form of Ancient China? He also hates the heat, who knew right?

🕰 • Wish Received, Wish Granted!

Luo Binghe aches so raw and violently in a way he hasn’t known since the Endless Abyss, since the scalding heat of tea on his scalp, or the sight of his mother’s tired and motionless form in her bed. Images of that other reality sear themselves into the forefront of his mind, plaguing him even when he shuts and scrubs at his eyes till they hurt. He feels the ghost of Shen Qingqiu’s gentle touch on his skin like a persistent burning sensation, flames of longing licking at the nape of his neck. He wants it. He hates it. He needs it. Or Luo Binghe (aka Bingge), because he’s the protagonist, gets his wish granted the moment he wakes on the cold floor of the woodshed, beaten black and blue, and fourteen again.

🕰 • A Transmigrator and a Time Traveler Walk Into the Bamboo House

Over a year after Shen Qingqiu's death, Luo Binghe consults his servant's servant, concurrently his disgraced martial uncle, for a way to bring the love of his life back. Shang Qinghua sends him in the direction of a certain time-traveling artifact, which supposedly brings one to the day they first met their soulmate. Odd, though, that the artifact ends up missing the destination by just a few years… - A story in which post-Abyss Luo Binghe relives his disciple days, while juggling his secrets, traumas, and some unexpected revelations about the man he loves on top of that.

🦋 • The More You Don't Know

Luo Binghe has it all: the respect of the cultivation world, the home he always wanted, and Shizun's love. There's just one problem: if Shizun ever finds out he's a demon, it's going to ruin everything.

🦋 • grief, hope, and other forms of sickness

After the Immortal Alliance Conference, Shen Qingqiu qi deviates. The deviation itself isn’t bad, but it allows Without-A-Cure to spread far further than it did originally, disabling Shen Qingqiu by a non-insignificant amount. So when Huan Hua calls for Shen Qingqiu’s imprisonment in Jinlan City, Without-A-Cure makes it very clear that Shen Qingqiu can not be held in the Water Prison away from the medical attention he needs these days. Instead, Shen Qingqiu is allowed to return to Qing Jing, provided he takes Luo Binghe back with him.

🦋 • Celestial Afterglow

Shang Qinghua, also known as Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, stared flatly at what had once been a field boasting near sect-level Feng Shui alignment, and the drowned, bloated remains of the Sun and Moon Dew Flower cuttings that had sprouted within it. Their plan was now quite literally a wash. If only he could consult Cucumber Bro on how to save Cucumber Bro! But in the absence of Cucumber Bro, he could but rely on the one plot coupon the infamous Peerless Cucumber had ever applauded.

🦋 • I Want You To Be Happier

Shen Yuan has amnesia. Good thing his husband is there to take care of him! - Following a failed attempt to detonate his core in order to save Luo Binghe at Huayue City, Shen Qingqiu instead suffers a qi deviation and loses his memory. Luo Binghe, in turn, loses his shit and steals him away for awhile.

🦋 • fall for your reflection (drown in a dream)

“Shh, Shizun, it’s alright,” Luo Bingge says, voice lilting in a singsong manner. Shen Qingqiu can’t look away from his red, red eyes. He blinks, and they aren’t eyes at all, but feathers, perched on a mound of coiled, shifting vines that are dotted with white thorns dyed their own bright red from Shen Qingqiu’s blood. “Go to sleep, Shizun,” the black-and-red bird sings, coaxing. “Go to sleep,” Luo Bingge repeats, as he flickers back into being. or: Shen Qingqiu is attacked by a monster that drops him into a dream of a perfect world--with Luo Binghe featuring front and center.

🦋 • Medical Diplomacy

Fresh out of the Abyss, Luo Binghe learns that he alone can cure Shen Qingqiu's chronic ailment. With this information in hand, he pursues an alternative strategy involving interspecies diplomacy and a royal alliance. After all, Cang Qiong can't expect a gentleman to dual-cultivate outside of marriage.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #shen jiu #luo binghe #bingqiu #svsss fic

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lloydskywalkers · 3 months ago

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moats and boats and waterfalls

Read on AO3

Post-Crystalized — after surviving apocalypse no. 2 (possibly 3, currently under debate) the ninja now face the unspeakable horrors of budgeting.

(Years late to the Crystalized party but here's part one of my seven billion fanfics about this season because there are Thoughts to be had about this one)

As it turns out, rebuilding a monastery is a whole lot more trouble than rebuilding the Bounty for the eightieth time.

And by trouble, Cole means incredibly expensive.

“Re-installing central heating costs what?!”

Kai’s horrified cry reverberates throughout the half-constructed monastery, the echo from the noticeably empty rooms only adding to insult.

Oh, what Cole would give to have his bed back.

“I guess we’ll have to use you during the winter,” Nya sighs, patting Kai on the back. “Lloyd, get ready to supercharge him.”

“Forget heating, do you know how much Wi-Fi costs?” Lloyd stares at the estimated summary like it’s personally kicked his pet. “Who even has that much money? God?”

“If god had money, he could’ve given Sensei Wu his inheritance and we’d all be loaded,” Jay mutters. “But noooo, ‘material possessions are the death of the soul’, blah blah blah, we’ll see whose soul is dead when the gas cuts out and he can’t make midnight tea anymore.”

“It does seem a bit extreme, looking at it all like this,” Zane remarks. Somewhat ironically, as he’s taken one look at the bill then wisely retreated across the room.

“Well, blowing up the entire monastery with us in it was extreme, so it figures repairs are just as bad,” Nya grumbles.

They all shift, the mood dampening at the reminder.

Lloyd opens his mouth. “I’m sor—”

“Do not,” Kai stabs a finger at him. “Even try.”

Lloyd slumps. “If I hadn’t gotten caught—”

“We all agreed to the plan, okay?” Cole says. “Also, no one knew we’d be sending you to Harumi, so the whole thing was doomed from the start.”

While he looks a bit miffed, Lloyd gives it up. Though perhaps that’s mostly in part because he desperately wants to avoid any more conversation about—

“So speaking of Harumi,” Jay starts.

Lloyd springs for the window.

Unfortunately for Lloyd, said window is currently boarded up by heavy-duty plywood, since quality window glass fell low on the list of priorities, which gives Kai plenty of time to tackle him before he can even raise his leg to kick it in.

“No!” Zane cries. “We can’t afford anymore plywood!”

“Or like, Band-Aids at bare minimum, so don’t you dare!” Nya adds.

“—overdramatic phase has gotta go, what are you, five — hey, no biting!”

Lloyd makes a muffled sound as he wrestles on the floor with Kai. Cole turns, very slowly, to glare at Jay.

“Oh come on, we were all thinking it,” Jay defends, reluctantly standing to help pry Lloyd from the floor. “Fine, hey, I promise we won’t talk about certain loser ex-princesses who are nice and cozy in their prison cells right now, okay? There, there, little gremlin, she can’t hurt you anymore—”

“I’ll bite you next,” Lloyd threatens, but he returns to his seat, wincing as Kai scuffs his hair.

“Turn Oni again, and that might be an actual threat.”

Lloyd startles terribly, staring at Kai with wide eyes. “That’s — not — I wouldn’t—”

“Kai,” Nya hisses.

“Woah, hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” Kai says quickly. “It’s supposed to be positive reinforcement! Easing it into a normal thing, y’know?”

Lloyd growls. “Nothing about this is a normal thing—”

“Except none of us are normal, so therefore it is,” Kai interrupts him smoothly. “Also we already loved you when you were a tiny demon, turning into a literal one is nothing. Give us some credit.”

Lloyd pulls his hood over his flaming face, thunking his head against the table. Kai pats him cheerfully on the shoulder.

“Additionally, unless we can swindle someone by selling Lloyd in his Oni form on the black market for cold cash before stealing him back, I don’t see how this helps matters.”

Zane finds himself on the receiving end of five blank stares. Lloyd, successfully having been pulled from his hood, whistles.

“I forget how evil you can be, sometimes.”

Kai gapes at him. “So that makes you feel better?”

“I mean, in terms of normalizing it—”

“Alright!” Cole slams his hands on the table, silencing them all. He glares them down. “Meeting room in five. We’re figuring out how to make this place livable if it kills us.”

There’s a brief silence, then Jay hesitantly raises his hand.

“Hey, so uh, we kinda don’t have a meeting room right now?”

Cole collapses on the table in despair.

---

Twenty minutes and one session of shoving chairs into what could have been the living room later — it’s hard to tell, with all the construction markings and plywood still up — they’ve kicked off the official first meeting of the Finish-Making-the-Monastery-Livable plan.

“Alright,” Lloyd announces, brushing his hands as he steps back from the chalkboard that may or may not have been stolen. “At the top of the list we have Wi-Fi, central air and heating, beds — huh, maybe those should go higher — running water, electricity — that one’s debatable, me and Jay can tag-team it if we get desperate — blankets-slash-pillows-slash-etcetera, stuff to cook with, actual food — y’know what, I’m putting that closer to the top—”

“So basically, we have nothing,” Cole says blankly.

Lloyd glances at the list, then to the sliver of chalk left in his hands. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Take the weaponry, sure, but all my albums?” Jay mourns. “I spent years collecting those.”

“I lost the blanket we stole from that super fancy apartment we lived in for like five minutes when Lloyd was a kid,” Kai sighs. “That thing literally made it through the apocalypse, just to bite it now.”

“Two apocalypses too many,” Nya says.

“Did the Preeminent count as an apocalypse? Like, a minor one?”

“Three apocalypses. It took three apocalypses to vaporize my closet,” Cole sinks lower in his seat. “Man, the hoodie you got me for my birthday was in there.”

“All of our photographs are lost, too.” Zane stares at his hands.

Lloyd murmurs something under his breath that sounds a lot like family pictures and figures.

The mood plummets a bit more, after that.

“Motherfu—”

“Alright, this isn’t helping,” Cole claps his hands. “We can all cry again later. Lloyd, overall mission status conclusion?”

“Well, like you said, we basically have nothing,” Lloyd sighs. “So unless Zane wants to stop chickening out and abandon his morals so we can just hack into everything and get it free, we need to find some way to pay for all this.”

“Again, I cannot hack in to rebuilding an entire cooling unit throughout the monastery, much less make the latest clothing line from Gucci materialize,” Zane says. Kai swears. “Also, that is called stealing.”

“You call it stealing, I call it a charitable donation,” Nya says. “I turned into the ocean for this city, the least they can do is cut me a check.”

“Besides, even if it is stealing, what are they gonna do, send us to jail again?” Jay scoffs.

Lloyd jabs the piece of chalk in his direction. “Don’t jinx us.”

“Too bad we wasted our chance at crime and didn’t even get rich,” Kai mutters. “All we got was Nya.”

He yelps as she punches him in the arm. “What, too soon?”

“You should be so lucky to have me,” she sniffs.

“Hey, but going on the donation thought train — do we know anyone who’s rich?” Jay asks. “Why don’t we have any rich friends?”

“Hey, you know what’s rich? That coming from the son of a billionaire.”

“Hey, you know what else got blown up? My inheritance!”

“Please, let it go,” Zane says. “We do have rich friends, I’ll remind you, we’re friends with actual monarchy. But we can’t exactly go and ask anyone else for money, since they all already helped out so much in getting the monastery rebuilt.”

There’s a moment of pensive silence. Lloyd draws a little sad face on the chalkboard next to ASK FOR DONATIONS.

“What if we just…sued Harumi,” Cole says. “Like, there’s gotta be some law that could work in our favor here.”

“I don’t think the court would go for that,” Lloyd mutters. “Since they’re all morally corrupt frauds who hate us.”

“Yeah! Down with the system!” Kai punches his fist in the air.

“Also, Harumi likely has very little in the way of money, either,” Zane says. “Considering she blew up any and all assets she might have had claim to.”

“Haha, what a loser,” Nya crows.

“What if we sued Garmadon?” Cole tries. “The courts have to hate him more than they hate us.”

Lloyd scowls, scrawling a large NO on the chalkboard. “Not worth the effort. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’s still couch-surfing at Vinny’s, which means also penniless.”

“We could sue Kalmaar,” Nya cracks her knuckles.

“Isn’t he dead?”

“Oh, yeah.” Nya looks disappointed.

“Did anyone survive that we can sue successfully?” Jay muses. “And actually get money out of?”

“Vangelis,” Cole snaps his fingers. “Wait. No, we ousted him from the throne, so he’s probably broke too.”

“Vangelis survived?”

As they dissolve into bickering over the status of enemies potentially living-or-dead, Kai squints at the chalkboard, where Lloyd is still scratching out letters despite having completely lost the room.

“We…are…fu—Lloyd!”

“Well it’s true,” Lloyd huffs, finishing off his message with a flourish. “Tada. There’s my grand plan.”

“That’s not a plan, it’s a pessimistic estimation at how things are gonna go.”

“It’s extremely rude language, is what it is! I thought we taught you better.”

Lloyd simply looks pleased with himself at having recaptured the room’s attention. It is, of course, then that Sensei Wu walks into that room. He stops, looking from where they’re all frozen in place, then to the chalkboard.

Lloyd pales.

Sensei Wu pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and closes his eyes.

“My dearest nephew, you have three seconds to make that disappear, or I’ll be forced to—”

Lloyd springs for the chalkboard in record time, wiping frantically at his writing with the sleeve of his gi.

“People would kill for that thing, and here he’s using it as a chalkboard eraser,” Jay mutters.

It isn’t until later, when they’ve all retreated to the collective mass of blow-up mattress and borrowed blankets they’re calling a bedroom, that anyone breaches the topic again.

There’s a loud rustling as Cole turns over where he’s precariously shoved between Kai and Zane.

“…can we sue the mayor?”

There’s a noted pause of silence, only broken by the whirring of the cheap oscillating fan.

“You know,” Zane says slowly. “In terms of slander and defamation…”

An evil, sharp-toothed smile spreads across Lloyd’s face. “I like the sound of that.”

“Hey, let’s sue the new ninja, too,” Jay grins. “Can Pixal retroactively trademark our vibe?”

“You cannot sue them based on vibe appropriation.”

“Yeah, but I can sue them for impersonation.”

---

They cannot, as it turns out, sue the mayor, because legal work like that costs even more money.

They can, however, ruin his year by filing (and forging) every possible insurance claim under the sun, so they all walk out of the office a little more satisfied than before.

“I hope all your socks go missing in the laundry!” Nya yells toward the building as they hit the streets. “I hope you have a rock stuck in your shoe for the rest of your life! I hope you’re plagued with a mildly inconvenient headache every waking moment and never fully enjoy anything ever again!”

“Alright, alright, we’re getting looks,” Cole grabs her arm. “Let it go.”

“As much as I appreciate it, I am not going back to jail,” Jay shudders. “Twice was enough.”

Kai frowns. “Twice? When else did you get arrested?”

“We all did, re—” Jay cuts off, suddenly aware of the absolute daggers Nya is staring at him. “Uhhh…aw, snap, another mental breakdown, haha!”

“Is this the whole ‘we all have missing memories you guys are definitely hiding from us’ thing again? ‘Cause I swear—”

“I said I’m getting to it, it’s a really boring story anyways—”

“Didn’t you say you lost an eye—”

“Oh look, a window!”

This time, Jay is thwarted by Lloyd, who’s simply jumped out enough windows to recognize when someone’s about to try it themselves. Except Jay is aiming to jump inside a window this time, so they both go crashing into Pixal just as she joins them.

To her credit, she barely flinches. “I thought I heard clown noises nearby.”

Lloyd stares at her in such utter betrayal, the mental breakdown thing might become valid.

“Pixal,” Jay simply begs. “Please. Help your clowns scavenge our clown dinners.”

Pixel surveys them all, a fond smile tugging at her lips. “There is a nice pizza place down the block.”

The cheers she’s met with nearly succeeded at knocking her over where Jay failed.

Dinner that night comprises of actual, warm, take-out pizza, which nearly moves Cole to tears.

“Definitely changing the priorities order,” Lloyd says blissfully through a mouthful of cheese. “Food goes at the top, no questions.”

“Seconded,” Kai mumbles.

“Thirded.”

“Fourthed.”

“I cannot believe, that after everything we’ve been through, we did not qualify for the post-apocalypse discount,” Zane bites out.

“Well,” Jay says brightly. “Pixal hacked the card reader, so technically we got a hundred percent discount.”

Zane stares at her, in equally utter betrayal. “Pixal?”

She shrugs. “They can try to send me to prison. They will fail.”

---

Two days later, Skylor cements herself as everybody’s most favorite person in the entire world by not only saving them from starvation by demanding they sit their butts down in the restaurant and eat for free, but also donating six pillows and a year’s worth of shampoo.

“I know it’s not a lot, but I’m on the lookout for more,” she tells them. “I’ve asked other people to help chip in, too, so hopefully that’ll make things a little easier.”

“Skylor,” Cole nearly sobs into his new, beautiful pillow. “If Kai doesn’t marry you, I will.”

“H-hey!”

“No marriage necessary,” she snorts. “Consider keeping you all fed my way of saying thanks.”

“But you already helped out with the monastery,” Nya says, around the same time the rest of them assure her there’s no need for thanks, despite the fact that no one has the slightest desire to relinquish their food.

“Fine, then,” Skyler huffs, her cheeks turning pink. “Make me say it out loud, will you — consider it my way of showing that I care about you all. Very much.”

“Aww,” Lloyd says.

Kai makes a face somewhere between melting and heart eyes.

“I hate all of you,” she mutters.

“We love you too, Skylor,” Cole grins.

“Hate you!”

Despite her words, they all leave with six boxes of leftovers and free dessert.

This, of course, brings another slightly-pressing issue to mind.

---

They end up getting a refrigerator for a steal of a bargain, which is probably again influenced by Pixal’s criminal extremely generous activity.

Given how enthusiastic they all are about getting it installed, Kai is half-expecting there to be no work left for him at all by the time he returns from the food run.

He’s…not entirely disappointed when he walks into the kitchen, though he is rather baffled.

The room freezes as if on record-scratch. Jay is perched on top of the counters, Lloyd has a sledgehammer raised halfway in the air, and Cole is on the ground beside the refrigerator crying.

“What?” Kai asks, blankly.

“The fridge…doesn’t fit…” Cole moans into the floor.

“We didn’t leave enough space between the cabinets,” Jay informs him through a mouthful of gummy worms. “So the door can’t open.”

Kai looks at Lloyd. “So the sledgehammer is for…?”

“DIY home improvement,” he shrugs.

“Huh.” Kai glances at the cabinets. “Put some safety goggles on first, okay?”

Lloyd only gets about two swings in before Zane descends with the all wrath of the Ice Emperor and adds to the tally of times-the- Green-Ninja-almost-met-his-doom, but it’s fun while it lasts.

They were ugly cabinets, anyways.

---

While his love for his family could potentially fuel a nuclear power plant, Kai does grow tired of being the living team space heater rather quickly.

The effort of keeping his power going all night just gets annoying (and exhausting) — so by the time he’s tagged in Lloyd to use his power to keep him going, they’re up to two moody ninja short on sleep, and no one wants to deal with that.

While they’ve scrounged up a few dollar-store quality blankets, Jay takes the opportunity to highlight his accomplishments in arts-and-crafts.

“You mean your mom’s accomplishments.”

“Hey, we made it together! It counts.”

The it in question quickly gains the name “god-awful-t-shirt-blanket” simply because the blinding combination of all their cast-off shirts sewn together is impressively terrible.

“I still think this is a waste of good clothes,” Kai grumbles. “It’s not like we have outfits to spare these days, you know.”

“Do you wanna keep heating the room at night or no?” Nya threatens.

Kai quickly shuts his mouth and returns to sewing Cole’s old plaid shirt to one of Jay’s neon blue shirts that features a dolphin printed in enough colors to kill a man.

“So, what do we think?” Lloyd steps back, wiping at his forehead with his arm as he surveys their masterpiece.

Staring at the multi-colored mess they’ve patched together into a quilt, Nya announces, “It’s the ugliest blanket I’ve ever seen.”

“Harsh.”

“Hey, we did our best!”

“See if I ever sew for you again,” Lloyd huffs.

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing,” Nya quickly interjects. “It looks a little like us!”

“Are you saying we’re ugly?!”

“Nya, no, our family genes are enough to carry us through this, I promise—”

---

They’re in the middle of figuring out how to steal Wi-Fi from the government when Tox drops by, Karloff in tow.

“You really…need…to get an elevator…or something,” she pants, red-faced and sweaty as she hauls several large bags behind her.

In contrast, Karloff looks unfazed, casually toting a hideously floral-patterned sofa over his shoulder.

“Skylor mentioned you need furniture, no?” he says. “It’s not much, but you need somewhere to sit.”

“Karloff,” Jay tells him, very seriously. “This is the most beautiful sofa I’ve ever seen.”

“Haha! Karloff is right once again,” he brags to Tox.

Tox stares at Jay in flabbergasted despair.

“You can’t put that in your home,” she mutters. “You can’t. It’s a crime against eyes everywhere.”

“Well, it’s better than no sofa, and we’re literally turning down nothing these days,” Nya says cheerfully. She leans over to peer at the bags Tox has managed to drag up. “Speaking of…?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tox heaves the bags in front of her. “Skylor said you guys needed help interior decorating? So I brought a couple rugs. She also mentioned something about the ugliest blanket she’s ever seen, so we called up some of the other Elemental Masters and got like, six or seven together. They’re not exactly works of art, but they’re okay?”

Kai tears open the first bag, his eyes lighting up. “They’re beautiful,” he whispers reverently. “Hey, guys, we got blankets! Dibs on the one with a wolf.”

“Oh, no, not that one, it’s from my awful middle school phase—”

“What do you mean, dibs, I want the wolf one!”

“Oh yeah? Down to fight for it?”

“You’re on. Training ground in five.”

“Absolutely not, we are not fighting over a blanket we’ve been so generously gifted,” Zane snaps, snagging Kai and Cole by their collars.

“Yeah, we also don’t really have a training ground anymore,” Lloyd says, half-buried in a blanket embroidered with countless bug-eyed fish. “It went ka-boom.”

Nya rubs her temples. “Zane?”

“Already factored into the expenses,” he sighs.

“Oh wow, you guys weren’t kidding,” Tox says. “Do you want, uh, like a keychain? I have some mints here too I can donate…man, Karloff, help me out!”

“Does the monastery need a metal helmet?”

“We’re really not that broke,” Nya says hastily, pushing away the offered mints. “But thanks.”

“Speak for yourself.” Lloyd snags the mints, clasping his hands together in prayer at Tox before slipping back into the emerging blanket battle.

Nya sighs. “Do you guys want tea? We’ve got three whole mugs, now.”

Tox glances from the other ninja, where Jay has been successfully rolled into a blanket burrito and is in potential danger of being rolled right down the mountain, to Karloff, who’s the reason said danger is potential.

“We can spare a minute, I guess.”

The t-shirt blanket is later relegated to the living room, where it lives as a throw blanket over Karloff’s floral sofa. They unanimously decide it’s the perfect home for it, and the only real critic is Skylor, who’s almost reduced to tears the next time she visits.

---

They celebrate their achievement of having a living room by all eating dinner on Karloff’s floral-patterned couch. This comes with a good deal of kicking and squirming and the tragic loss of Kai’s fortune cookie, but they make it work.

“This is kind of depressing, though. Sitting in the dark,” Nya remarks.

A muscle in Jay’s jaw twitches. “Well, maybe if someone hadn’t melted all our candles—”

“You were the one who had the brilliant idea of trying to barbecue with them, genius!” Kai snaps.

“It was a pretty spectacular fire,” Lloyd admits. Then, hastily, “In a really cool way!”

“Perhaps a lamp should go next on the list,” Zane says. “Rather than relying on Kai as our light.”

“Hey, I’m a great light,” Kai scowls. “I’m the light of your life. I could light this place up all day!”

“Yes, and I’m sure it would end similarly to the time you nearly burned down a building under the belief that you were achieving your true potential, but were, in fact, just dehydrated.”

Kai gapes at Zane in betrayal. “You said you’d take that to the grave!”

Zane carefully laces his fingers together. “Technically, I did.”

“No you didn’t!” Jay interjects. “We never buried you, so you never had a grave! Ha!”

Zane looks affronted. “I didn’t get a grave?”

“You got a statue!” Kai quickly consoles .

“Yeah, what’d you want us to do, pick your exploded pieces out of the street for half a year then toss ‘em in the ground?”

“Oh, as if that’s any worse than being left to pour your corpse out in cups of water.”

“It wasn’t my corpse, I was still alive!”

“You were the literal ocean. Fish swam in you.”

“Ew, does that mean—”

“Finish that sentence and I will drown you where you stand—”

“You’re all in desperate need of counseling,” Pixal mutters.

“Tell me about it,” Lloyd says, leaning back on the armrest of the sofa.

Cole shakes his head. “Lost causes, all of them.”

Pixal stares at them both, expression pinched, before deciding to respect the hopelessness of lost causes.

“Hold on, I think Kai’s crying,” Lloyd moves to sit up, only to wobble, slip sideways, and go crashing to the floor gracelessly.

“Just like when I fell to my doom off the Bounty,” Cole reminisces.

Pixal’s eyes glaze over.

---

Later that evening, Pixal adds “therapy” to the list of potential expenses on the fridge door. Regretfully, it loses miserably in the debate against hot shower expenses, so it too joins the pile of repressed memories that will undoubtedly haunt them in the future.

“But hey, a hot shower can cure depression on a good day,” Cole says, and that settles that.

---

Hot showers, as it turns out, are a hard-won priority.

It’s less so after Jay, Nya, and Pixal camp out overnight near the pipeline and perform their own less-than-legal maintenance, but one of Zane’s carefully filed insurance claims actually went through the other day, so they’re taking their luck as they can.

It’s not until they get working on the bathroom itself that the true difficulty makes itself clear.

“Hey, uh,” Kai stares down at the patch of rotted floor he’s ripped up, wiping at the fog that’s spread across his safety goggles. “Is the base layer supposed to look like that?”

“Look like what?” Cole abandons the tiling he’s been placing to glance over. His face drops. “Uh-oh.”

“Is that all black mold?” Nya gags, nearly dropping her bottle of cleaning bleach.

“FSM, no wonder we’re all crazy,” Cole mutters.

“Alright,” Kai strips off his rubber gloves. “Nothing for it. Back up, guys, I’m barbecuing this baby.”

“Wait wait wait don’t—”

Ten minutes and a good deal of hacking and wheezing through teary eyes later, Cole murders Kai while they all look on.

Well, he attempts to.

“You filled the monastery with chlorine gas, you absolute moron—!”

“How was I supposed to know that would happen, I’m not a chemist—”

Nya glares ahead darkly as Lloyd gingerly treats the reddened blisters on her hands.

“None of you,” Zane says, through gritted teeth. “Are touching cleaning chemicals for a year.”

---

“Not sure I wanna know how you pulled off poisoning yourselves, but I’m kinda impressed you did a better job of it than most criminals would,” Ronin tells them, once the monastery has been successfully de-chlorinated and the bathroom tiles firmly put in place, sans black mold.

“Maybe we can hire ourselves out to them when we’re strapped for cash,” Nya sighs.

“We’re literally always strapped for cash. We’re broke.”

Ronin laughs, clapping Jay on the back. “Welcome to adulthood, kid.”

“I don’t think normal adulthood gets their home blown up on a regular basis,” Lloyd hisses.

“Fair point,” Ronin nods.

“Well, thanks for saving us all from a slow and painful death,” Cole scrubs his hands over his face. “We can pay you back sometime in the next century. Maybe.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Ronin waves them off. “It’d be like kicking a dog when it’s down, askin’ you all to pay. Besides, I probably owe you one.”

“You sure do,” Jay glares.

“Hey, hey, I said I was sorry for the whole human sacrifice thing,” Ronin placates. “Want some good news, at least?”

“Is it actually good news?” Lloyd eyes him shrewdly.

“Lighten up, captain trust issues.” Kai barely snags Lloyd before he lands himself back in jail. “I looked into some more of those insurance claims you filed, and you actually got somethin’ out of it. I, uh, helped the bank along a bit, with the refund.”

“Bank?” Cole whispers.

“Refund?” Jay’s eyes shine.

“Yeah, got you all your checks right here,” Ronin says, tugging six neat envelopes from his jacket. “Just don’t blow ‘em all at once, okay? Haha.”

Zane looks as if he might propose to him on the spot.

“Hey, this isn’t too bad!” Kai exclaims. “We got money!”

“Guys,” Lloyd says, staring at his check. “You know we should probably pool all this together and spend it on necessities, right?”

“Yeah,” Cole sighs.

“It would be the smartest course of action,” Zane adds.

There’s a noted silence.

“Or,” Lloyd says.

---

In their defense, they spend exactly two-thirds of their checks on household items.

Whether or not these are needed household items remains a debate.

“If we’re all buying lamps for the living room, can we at least attempt to match?” Zane sighs.

“Booo, where’s your joy and whimsy?” Jay sticks out his tongue.

“That isn’t even a lamp, it’s a light-up axolotl.”

“The heck’s an axo-lot—”

“It lights up, doesn’t it? Ergo, it’s a lamp.”

“Ergo, what are you, Sensei Wu—”

“We’re never having guests over again,” Cole remarks, as Lloyd and Nya maneuver a five-foot-tall rendition of Godzilla into the shopping cart that may or may not light up.

“The monastery’s gonna look rad as heck, we’re forcing everyone to come over and look at it,” Kai corrects as he tosses a set of flame-patterned curtains into the mess.

“Absolutely not.”

“I actually might like them,” Zane muses. “They would capture the energy of our kitchen perfectly.”

Kai beams. “Flame curtains are a go!”

In the aftermath, they total around six individual blankets, five mismatching lamps and one light-up axolotl, a table that no one knows how to put together, one set of flame-patterned curtains, another hideous couch, and enough cutlery and kitchenware that no one has to eat out of Sensei Wu’s incense bowls anymore.

“Alright,” Lloyd says. “We’ve got three hours until the stores start closing. Everyone take the rest of your checks, don’t think about how much of a disaster the monastery still is, and start thinking about how valid retail therapy is.”

“Aye-aye,” Kai salutes, before immediately booking it for the clothing outlets.

---

Three hours later, Kai’s happily blown his entire check on a new wardrobe and exactly one pair of name-brand brand shoes. He’s unreasonably proud of himself for his restraint, until he catches Cole with three pairs of his own name-brand shoes, and immediately regrets being responsible.

He spots Jay going off in the N-Pop section of a music store, Nya investing in a sinfully-priced espresso machine, and Zane walking toward the clothing outlets himself with a high-quality pair of noise-cancelling headphones.

He doesn’t find Lloyd until well after he’s picked up his own clothes, already sporting an oversized hoodie he could’ve just stolen from Kai.

He’s more concerned when Lloyd proceeds to blow the last of his check at the sporting goods section of the local convenience store. Considering how long Lloyd spent looking wistfully at the candy aisle, Kai is baffled by the decision.

He’s even more baffled when Lloyd proceeds to box up his purchase for delivery instead of keeping it himself.

He’s utterly horrified when he sees who it’s addressed to.

“Are you serious?!” he asks shrilly, torn between ripping the box from Lloyd’s hands or immediately calling the mental health hotline. “You’re sending her gifts?”

“It’s not a gift, it’s — look, it’s a long story, you wouldn’t get it,” Lloyd grumbles, plastering another layer of duct tape over the box. “Just help me deliver it to Kryptarium and I’ll show you, okay?”

Kai very much does not help, because he’s not an enabler and he cares about his brother’s mental health, but he does follow Lloyd to Kryptarium Prison and lurk behind him as he eagerly watches the surveillance screens.

Harumi stares at the box before her, looking every bit as baffled as Kai is.

“Who would send me a volleyball—”

She freezes, her face going utterly blank. A muscle in her jaw twitches.

There’s a brief flash of what could be amusement, a brief expression as if she’s eaten something sour, then a fury like no other eclipses her face.

“LLOYD! I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF, YOU THINK YOU’RE HILARIOUS—”

Lloyd’s still laughing by the time they’re escorted from the premises, hard enough that Kai has to catch him when he trips at the top of the steps.

“What’d you even write on the note?” Kai finally asks, a bit in awe.

Lloyd grins. “I told her good luck getting together her villainous volleyball team in jail.”

Kai blinks. “Do I…want to know?”

“Nope!” Lloyd says airily. “But I’ve made my point.”

---

Regardless of some behaviors, the mental health hotline remains a constant idea. It simply happens to come up at inconvenient times, such as when Cole drops a dresser on his foot halfway across the courtyard.

He swears so loudly the whole monastery echoes with it.

“Oh geez, Cole, are you okay? Why’d you lift the whole thing on your own?”

“We could have helped,” Zane rushes over. “You don’t have to do it all yourself—”

“Yes I do!” Cole yells. “I’m stronger than that, I’m supposed to be stronger, I have to be stronger or you’re all going to die next time—”

He cuts off abruptly. Zane looks heartbroken. Jay—

Is suddenly busy smacking Cole upside the head.

“No, you don’t!” he snaps back, even louder. “You don’t have to do it by yourself! None of you do! Every time anyone tries to do something by themselves it all goes wrong and we lose someone, so we’re never — doing that — again!”

He seizes Cole around the arms, his wild eyes meeting Cole’s wide ones. “No one blames you for the stupid tunnel. I don’t care how strong you are. We’re all here and that’s what matters, so don’t you dare put that at risk.”

“But I—”

“No.”

“Jay, I—”

“No.”

“I—”

“No!” A manic expression overtakes Jay’s face. “No, no, no! No one’s taking the blame. No one’s isolating themselves. No. One. Is. Going. Off. Alone. You hear me?!”

The others are frozen, halfway outstretched hands caught as if suspended in ice. Kai’s expression is twisted painfully. Lloyd’s eyes are on the ground. Zane is as frozen as the metaphorical ice, and Nya looks devastated.

“No more being alone,” Jay says, the fire in his voice giving way to something wetter and considerably more sniffly. “No more. Don’t — you can’t—”

“Okay,” Cole whispers. He carefully takes Jay’s hands from his shoulders, grasping them in his own instead. “Okay. No more going at it alone. I promise.”

The monastery courtyard seems a little colder, in the silence.

“Anyone feel like circling back to the whole ‘suing Harumi’ idea?” Kai finally speaks up.

Jay gives a wet snort.

“Well, we’re probably gonna need to afford tissues,” Lloyd says. His own voice isn’t exactly dry, either.

---

The downside to sticking therapy smack at the bottom of their priorities is that they all really are, in fact, not okay.

Most of the time, they manage.

There’s a solace in being together, a comfort in having the people you trust and care for most in the world right next to you when the nightmares get bad. When Jay awakens screaming for Nya or clutching at his throat for air, Nya is already holding his hand and Cole’s holding the rest of him.

When Zane lapses into silence too long, emotions a roiling mess that leave him paralyzed, Kai is there with one-two-three’s for breathing and Lloyd is there to draw little cats with him until the world subsides again.

When Cole’s eyes shadow in training and his hits grow wild, Zane is there to pin him before he bloodies his hands and Jay is there to sing horrible off-key songs he loves until the panic ebbs.

When Nya stares at the water too-long, her eyes misty and her expression dreamy, Jay is there to hold her tight and Kai is there to talk until his voice goes hoarse and hers returns.

There are other times, though, when it’s harder.

It hits Kai this time about halfway through painting the walls of the kitchen a cheerful yellow, said paint splattered up to his elbows, courtesy of Lloyd. He glances down — to joke, to laugh, to not think—

And pauses. With the headband he’s stolen from Pixal in place, pushing back the mass of thick blond hair, Kai can just see the purple-red edges of the swollen, irritated wounds that scar Lloyd’s scalp. The twin marks are a better sight than when Kai first glimpsed them, bleeding circles that looked as if someone had drilled into Lloyd’s skull — but not by much.

“S’fine,” Lloyd mutters, catching Kai’s devastated expression. “I can’t even feel ‘em. Not really.”

“Liar,” Kai rasps. “They look awful.”

Lloyd makes a face. “Gee, thanks a lot.”

“I mean it. What if they get infected, or worse, or — have you had Sensei look at them?”

Lloyd wraps his arms around himself, avoiding Kai’s eyes. “No. I didn’t really…I did what he asked. What they both did. And then screwed the whole thing up, so it was all useless anyways, so I—”

He bites his lip, hard enough to crack the already dry skin.

“I don’t really wanna hear anyone telling me what else I’m doing wrong with myself, right now.”

Kai is angry enough to feel sick.

“That’s stupid. That’s so stupid, he should — it shouldn’t be like that, it’s — why didn’t anyone—” he shakes his head. “Why doesn’t anyone ever ask us if we wanna be — if we wanna—”

Lloyd’s hand closes around his wrist, gently tugging Kai’s own hand from where it’s clawed unconsciously at his arm, leaving ugly red stripes against his skin.

“You asked,” he says, quietly. “That meant a lot.”

Kai looks away. “Lot of good it did.”

Lloyd’s grip tightens. “It meant the world to me,” he repeats, stronger this time.

“But I couldn’t—!”

Lloyd abandons his hold on his wrist to wrap his arms around Kai entirely, holding tight. Bony and strong and familiar, Kai’s little brother to the core.

“Thank you,” he says, fervently enough that Kai can feel the ache in his voice. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

Kai’s voice is a miserable mess of fought-back tears. “I couldn’t even do anything.”

“You asked me what I wanted,” Lloyd says once again, and Kai can hear the edge of tears threatening his voice, now. “That was everything.”

Giving in, Kai drops his head into the mess of blond curls and hugs Lloyd back. Lloyd’s hair smells like blood and paint and steel and the strawberry shampoo Skylor gave them, and now it’s gonna smell like Kai’s stupid snot and tears.

“Hey, having another hug party without me is lame.”

Kai gives a wet, broken response as Nya throws her arms around them both.

“Idiots,” she murmurs, resting her head atop theirs. “I love you both, you know that?”

“Ew, gross,” Lloyd snorts wetly. “Hey Kai, Nya loves us.”

“Little jerk, who you callin’ gross? And here I thought you loved us too.”

“Well obviously I love you guys back, who’s the idiot now—”

Kai simply clutches them both and cries harder, as if holding onto them will stop himself from falling apart.

It works, in the ways that matter, though it’s always because they’re holding back even tighter.

Later that evening, Zane bathes Lloyd’s head in antiseptic and Jay forces them all to sit through the PowerPoint presentation he’s made with Nya titled “Every Super Cool Totally Good Character with Horns Ranked”. He loses them the minute he brings anime characters into it, as everyone suddenly develops incredibly passionate opinions about the rankees, but Lloyd’s laughing too hard to have his own opinion and Kai doesn’t feel like he’s drowning under inadequacy anymore — just choking to death under the weight of Jay’s elbow for daring to insult Re:Zero as an anime “since it actually has Oni in it, idiot, your opinion is trash—”

They get things back to being okay, one way or another.

---

Somewhere in the third month of renovations, they finally scrounge up six whole beds. It takes a good deal of dragging and cursing, but they finally manage to move into their own rooms, the once-empty spaces looking a little less lonely.

“Now we don’t have to all sleep together in the same room anymore,” Jay announces. There’s no small amount of celebration at that.

The celebration lasts up until sometime around three in the morning, at which point the consistent nightmares land them all right back in the pile of communal air mattresses.

“Just for like, one more night,” Kai yawns, as Lloyd curls closer beneath his arm.

“Totally, yeah,” Nya echoes, one leg spread across Jay, her arm sprawled over Kai.

“Go to sleep already, FSM’ sake,” Cole begs, before slumping over Zane.

For all Cole’s begging, he’s still the first to act when Zane suddenly lurches up from the bed, gasping for air like he’s drowning and giving them all joint heart attacks.

“—hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just us—”

Cole’s hands hover, non-threatening, as Zane buries his face in his palms, breathing ragged. The others have begun to get up now as well, the slow kind of approach that lets Zane know exactly where each of them are.

“I despise this,” Zane spits, as his hand drags down to fist over his chest. “I hate feeling like this. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it—”

“I know,” Cole says. “I know.”

“This is why — it’s so much easier—“

“It’s okay, it’s—”

“It is not! I do not need to breathe, and yet I can’t!” Zane bursts out, frustrated and frightened. “I’m not supposed to break down like this, I do not, I do not—”

“You’re not a machine,” Cole says steadily. “You get to break down.”

“But if I—”

“You don’t,” Lloyd murmurs. “You don’t have to turn ‘em off, Zane. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Zane’s head lowers, his eyes shadowed. “It wouldn’t hurt,” he says, but it’s reluctant.

“Yeah, you’d never hurt, but you’d never be happy, either,” Kai says. “And that’d suck.”

“It’d suck for us, too,” Cole speaks up. “We’d have to live without your laugh. Without your sassy remarks. Without your kindness.”

“We’d live without you,” Lloyd says, quietly. “And you wouldn’t really be living, would you?”

Zane crumples, his shoulders shaking as he allows Kai to pull him close.

“If it gets too much, just come to us,” Jay says. “We’ll be more, okay? We’re pretty good at that.”

Zane gives a wet, stifled laugh.

“Don’t go, even if it’s just your emotions leaving,” Nya murmurs, her head against his. “It isn’t worth it.”

With slowing shudders, Zane lets himself relax, the warmth of their little family pressing around him. Kai is an immovable barrier at his side, save for where Lloyd’s tucked beneath his arm. Jay’s legs tangle with Lloyd and Cole’s, his hand held tightly in Nya’s.

“Leaving isn’t worth it,” Nya echoes. “Not in any lifetime.”

---

Bit by bit, the monastery comes together.

The smell of new paint gives way to a familiar scent of mixing elements and laundry soap, one that’s followed them since the first Bounty. They comb through every online shop until they find the exact brand of sheets that feel like the first apartment they ever lived in together. Thrift shops and sales and birthdays stock closets once again, new hoodies that are quickly stolen and passed back and forth. The collection of CD’s and movies rebuilds into stacks once again through shared movie nights and pirated music.

And little by little, with the consistent passage of time, photographs line the walls of the monastery once again.

A little older, a little worn, but a collection of family all the same.

---

“Except we still don’t have damn central heating—”

“Suck it up and light the fireplace, hothead.”

“No respect in this city. None at all.”

#lego ninjago #ninjago #post-crystalized #my fanfic #had to post one (1) at least #tbh this is terrifying! i forgot how to write #my fic

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kentopedia · 1 month ago

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˚₊‧꒰ა crossroad blues — sebastian

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. at the crossroads, you make a deal with the devil. instead of leaving you alone for the next ten years, it sticks around.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. dark content, mdni !!, f!reader, murder, demons, somnophilia, occult, monsterfucking ig, noncon/dubcon, unprotected sex, piv, pet names, degradation, wc: 2.1k

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. i'm self aware, this is not that good but i wanted to post something for kinktober so. this will function as that. not really proofread + potentially ooc i have not read black butler in a while so pls don't be a hater <3

part of my halloween series !

ever since you were a child, you’d heard tales of devils at the crossroads.

stories that had been passed through the generations, stories of deals that could be made with a crossroads devil, for those crazy enough to take the chance. for the small price of an eternity in hell, your soul could be exchanged for whatever you desired.

that price was nothing, really, for those who were desperate enough. and you were desperate enough.

you sat, humming to yourself in the dirt, your belongings two feet below the ground, along with the rest of the items necessary for the ritual. it had not been cheap or easy to find the incantation that would summon a demon, but for all the things you lacked, money had never been one of them.

now, though, as you waited, your skirts stained dark shades of brown from the mud, you began to wonder if you’d been swindled.

shivering, you climbed to your feet, your boots even dustier than before. the sun had long since set, and it was frigid, much colder out in the middle of the countryside than it was in the city.

nothing was coming — it was clear to you now. perhaps even your desperation wasn’t enough for the devil to accept another soul to his overpopulated hell.

you frowned and turned to make your way back to your haunted house, when you noticed a shadowy figure flickering in the corner of your vision. you blinked, suddenly swept up in a mixture of uncertainty.

“who’s there?” you asked, stupidly, knowing that either way, death had come for you.

the shadow emerged, the smiling figure of someone who looked much more a man than a devil, had it not been the shade of his irises, the cruel smile that curled on his lips. his dark hair swept across his forehead, gracefully framing his features.

“you called for me,” he said simply, taking the short steps towards you.

you wrinkled your eyebrows together, not expecting the demon to be clad in such formal wear, his coattails flaring out behind him as he bowed.

“you are the one i am to make a deal with?” you asked, sounding not at all confident.

he laughed, a dark sound. “i am. does that surprise you?”

“i expected something… different,” you said, batting your eyes away. it was hard to look at him. you felt hot, just from the intensity of his irises. he was beautiful, painfully so otherworldly you weren't sure if human was the correct way to describe his appearance.

but wasn’t that what was always said about demons?

“i want you to kill my husband,” you said simply, sparing no room for lifeless conversation.

the demon made a face, but it was not of alarm, more so out of boredom. “oh. is that all? such mundane tasks you humans send me on. it's always dramatics you must resort to.”

“i’ll be damned to hell, whether i kill him myself or not." you shrugged, the judgement annoying you, coming from a demon. “i’d just rather not get my hands dirty. wouldn't want to end up in prison.”

at that, his interest was piqued again, like you’d illuminated another part of the human existence he had not seen before. “you would trade eternal suffering for a few kind years on earth?”

“i’m already suffering,” you said flatly, not allowing emotion to overtake you. “i want you to kill my husband, and i don’t want to be questioned for it. heart failure would do nicely, i think.”

the demon, with his startling beautiful eyes, so red and alluring, considered. “i don’t believe you are in any position to make requests of that nature.”

you frowned, and took a step back. “well, this is a contract, is it not? i’m allowed to make stipulations, as far as i’m aware.”

he blinked, then laughed, before studying you like you were a mouse he was dangling by the tail. “hmm.” the demon considered your words. “there is an extra price to pay, for those who want to make such specifications.”

he leaned forward, his vast form towering over you, even in a human vessel. still you ignored his attempt at intimidation and swallowed, sticking your chin out to glare up at him. “i’m willing to pay it,” you said, sniffing.

“alright, then,” he grinned, wiping his fingers across your lips. “we have a deal.”

the gravity of his words didn’t strike you in that moment, the exchange purely business, not at all the matters of life and death. you nodded, and stuck out your hand to shake his — that’s how deals were made, weren't they? but the demon surprised you by grabbing your hand, pulling you towards him and slamming your lips against his own.

a choked sound came out of you as your eyes went wide, and for a moment, you panicked. but the feeling of his mouth was so soft, the taste so heavenly for a creature of hell, that you found yourself relaxing into it, feeling blissful in the grasp of his cold hands.

the kiss was over before it even began, and he pulled off your mouth with a pop, leaving you breathless, chasing after him.

“i’ll collect the first of my payments at a later date,” he said, mouth spreading to reveal his sharp teeth. “expect me again soon.”

two days had passed since you made the deal, and you continued your normal routine, abiding by the sharp stipulations set by your cruel husband, like nothing had really changed at all.

and maybe it hadn’t. maybe everything the demon had said was a lie.

for some reason, despite his promise of collecting payment later, you’d believed the deal would come to fruition immediately. that you’d go home and your husband would be cast away from this earth, a nuisance you no longer had to worry about.

that hadn’t been the case though — he still slept beside you in your marital bed, a lump of apathy, night after night.

tonight, though, promised something different. you were used to your husband doing with you as he pleased, but it felt off, this time. he was far too tender with you, his cock sliding in and out of you, as if trying to ease you gently out of sleep.

you let out a breath, still stuck somewhere in between a dream. you weren’t sure what time it was, or when you had started to stir, but there was a wetness between your legs that hadn’t been there when you’d fallen asleep, and a cold hand on your bare hip.

your night gown had been hiked up to your stomach, the folds of cotton rubbing against your naval. a hand crept around your hips, sinking down between your legs, where you were already growing wetter.

the touch was frigid as it came in contact with your already aching clit, matching the pulse of the length that slid in and out of you. you let out a whine, jolting your hips into the touch, before your eyes flew open, and you were no longer asleep. realization dawned upon you.

“that’s it, little one,” a soft purr melted into your ears, cold fingers tracing achingly slow circles into your clit. “i was wondering how long it would take you to wake up.”

you were caught in between alarm and bliss, the room still hauntingly dark. it took a moment for your eyes to adjust, and you fell into the body that was pressed up behind you, lean and long.

your legs had been maneuvered differently from when you’d first slept, one lifted upwards to give the man — thing — behind you a better position, filling you deeply.

“s-sebastian—” you groan, not quite a question, as you clenched around his cock, thick and long. even though you’d never agreed to this, well… it was better than anything your husband had ever given you.

the husband that was staring at you, wide-eyed, petrified to death in the bed next to you.

the finality of his life almost killed your steadily growing orgasm, his round dead eyes staring, unblinking, back at you. but a deep thrust inside of you reminded you that it was your husband, not the demon, that had been the root of all your miseries.

you moaned, not bothering to hide the satisfaction you felt.

“you’re so much wetter than i imagined,” sebastian said, cooing in your ear, something between mockery and praise. you could hear the smirk on his face, even if you couldn’t see it. “such a pretty little thing. perhaps i’ll keep you all to myself for the next few years. my little human pet.”

you grabbed at his arm, nails digging into the cold flesh, as sebastian continued rubbing circles in your aching pussy.

the demon laughed, humming thoughtfully, almost gleeful. “i think that’s a fair trade, don’t you? more than fair.” his long fingers brushed your nipple, and you almost came on the spot.

it was too much. too fast. you weren’t even sure how long he’d been fucking you, while you were still asleep. enough to have you near an orgasm.

“maybe i’ll even let you live your whole life, if you promise to be my good little pet until the day you die.”

you moaned again, louder this time, and found yourself enthusiastically agreeing. “y-yes,” you said pathetically, not bothering to question your habit of making deals with devils. “whatever you want.” you could feel your eyes rolling back into your head, your mind going numb from the feeling.

he laughed at you, mockingly, and squeezed you harder, painfully, this time. but it didn’t erase the pleasure that dug deep into you, and you arched into him, on the edge of collapsing.

“so weak,” he hummed, his breath ghosting across your ear. it was deep, hauntingly so, like a song rising up from hell itself. “humans always lose themselves so easily to the pleasures of the flesh. i wonder how long it would take me to break you.”

“please,” you said, your voice small as you whined, feeling so small in his grasp, his presence overpowering.

perhaps he had nestled himself deeply into your mind, breaking through the walls that kept temptation out. but giving yourself to a demon felt better than it ever had with your husband.

“please?” he mocked darkly. “i’ll except better than that.”

“please, sebastian,” you said, repeating the word over and over again, giving into your desire, exactly as he’d anticipated. ‘i’ll do whatever you want. forever. please, just let me come.”

“such a good little pet.” you could feel his smile curling around your ear, his pace overwhelming. a string of praises laced with contempt left his lips, but they were lost to you, your senses lost to everything but the feeling of him inside you.

you gave into your pleasure, a sharp cry leaving your throat as you clench around him, breathing heavily. sebastian came inside, his cold chest pressed tightly against your back. not a sound left him; he was so quiet it was almost as if he wasn’t there at all.

you didn’t speak, and laid still, panting on the bed, trying to collect yourself.

he slid out of you, the only indication that there was another presence there. an ache in your muscles had already begun; you’d have that, at least, to remind yourself that it was real. but slowly, the demon’s touch became less tangible, as if he were fading away into the night.

“when will you be back?” you said, quiet, too afraid to turn and face him. you’d seen him as a human, but you weren’t sure what you’d do if you turned, and that was not the form he had taken. it scared you, as much as it thrilled you.

“when i please,” was all he gave you. “my side of the deal is complete.

“will it be like this every time?” you swallowed, not sure if you wanted him inside of you while you were sleeping, night after night. but you weren’t sure if you wanted him facing you, staring at you with those dark eyes of his as he sank into you. “sebastian?” you said quietly, shifting in the bed to face him.

but there was nothing there, the space empty, and no life was in that room but you.

you swallowed, shut your eyes, and went to sleep.

thank you for reading ❤︎ this one was inspired by episode 2x08 of supernatural, with the same title <3

#dividers by cafekitsune #black butler x reader #black butler smut #kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuroshitsuji smut #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis smut #sebastian michaelis x reader smut #sebastian michaelis #anime smut #sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis imagine #black butler imagines #xoxo rylie 💌 ⋆ ˚｡⋆#after hours ☽ ⋆ ˚｡⋆#kinktober #ktober

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creepling · 9 months ago

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ dating digger harkness headcanons

this is a very specific reader because i love the idea of this grimy hobo having a cute, smart girly partner that is the candy floss to his raccoon energy OKAYYY. also tcm shenanigans will be back shortly, i just had to give some love to a dc rogue like the old times<33

tags: feminine reader (wears dress, skirt, heels, mild makeup and has breasts and v) but gn pronouns. sugar daddy digger if you squint. reader is a jailbird. cuddling. pet name: birdie. smut under the cut - minors dni. polaroid nudes. (m) masturbation. thoughts of: oral (m receiving) and cowgirl.

If you were to ask Digger the first thing he noticed about you, his caveman mind would be objectifying. But your ass did look very flattering in your skirt and the smile you shot his way was the cherry on top. He likes them sweet and innocent, you like them rugged and dangerous. It was a match made in hell heaven.

After a few dates spent in dingy pubs and lover’s lanes, he was enamoured by you. He’s never had someone look at him the way you do. Eyes full of light, glistening at the sight of him. You always welcomed him with open arms, practically throwing yourself at him. He liked how easy you were to pick up, and the way you wrapped your limbs around him. How your soft skin blushes red against his scruffy neck. No matter the setting, you sat so close to him that you were more or less on his lap. He wraps his arms around you, or has a hand on your thigh, letting nearby acquaintances know you belong together. Digger thinks to himself, “I got so fucking lucky.”

His love languages are primarily gift-giving and physical touch. More times than you can count, Digger has fallen asleep on top of you. Either on the couch, while watching a movie or he found a way to snake between your legs while sleeping, he has a habit of using you like a pillow. You developed a kinship in moments like this where you play with his hair, massaging your fingers into the nape of his neck or twirling the strands that curtain his temples. You muse at his sleep-full hums, watching this rogue unwind under your touch, satisfied like a dog receiving pets. The gift-giving is when his rogue side is on high voltage. He wants to give you the world, shower you with jewels, let you wear the best of gear. “You want diamonds? Yeah, I’ll get you diamonds,” He’ll muse, mixing his pleasures with yours. When he robs a bank, the majority of his stolen dollars has been spent on you since you met him. Did your car get towed? He bought you a new one, along with the insurance. Need a new dress for the weekend? He’s got you sorted, along with heels and a bag to match. “Can’t have my bird in peasant clothes!” He protests, “Not with that cracken’ bod.” Queue the wink.

He loves showing you off, chuffed that he proved his doubters wrong that he could settle down and have a gorgeous significant other. “What they see in you, I don’t know . . .” They say, whether that be Deadshot, King Shark, heck even Amanda is amazed by it. He keeps candid polaroids of you in his pocket on the job, looking at them when he misses you. He squeezes the unicorn plushie you gifted him when he is stressed, anything to feel your presence when you’re half the world away. A shit-eating grin on his face when people tease him about his love for you, using it to embarrass him. “Awh, it’s puppy love,” Harley cooes, and Digger nods, all chuffed with himself.

Digger gave you the nickname “Birdie” because well . . . You’re a jailbird. He is in prison for heinous crimes, after all! Oh, is he touched-starved when you’re standing there, pretty face to the phone, separated by glass and talking in your voice that melts him like butter. His eyes are eating you up, desperate to have his hands on you. He’ll do all the suicide missions going to shred off the jail time, to get closer to the day his lips are kissing yours. Blackmailing Amanda to get you the best of the best, pay off college debt, holidays abroad, and spoil you when he cannot. “Oh, Birdie, when I get out of here I’m not letting you out of my sight, you’re stuck with me.” He groans, drunk on love. All you do is smile, sliding a pack of Polaroids under the screen when the guards aren’t looking. “Have these to tide you over in the meantime,” you tease. Digger rushes back to his cell, flipping through the photos. First were of you in dresses that were his favourites, the type of ones that are flowy and floral, framing you so delicately. They get more desirable as he flips them over, and his eyes lull in lust.

Digger loves the dirty photos you send him, it drives him fucking insane. It’s good to keep you fresh in his mind, but it borders on teasing just having you to look at. He didn’t have the brightest imagination, but this was good practice. Imagine how soft your thighs are under his callous hands, what your lips taste like with the lipgloss you have on. Your delicate hands trace his bulge, your touch replacing his heavy-handed grasp. Bucking into your hands as he sucks your breasts, teasing your nipples, muttering how perfect you are. His sweet little birdie, all belonging to him. Your eagerness proves your devotion. You take his infamous size so well, your spit coating his cock as your tongue swirls around his pulsing tip. As he wanks himself off, muffling his groans, he has the faintest memory of your cunt. How wet you always were for him, how eager you bounced on his cock. His eyes closed as he pumped his cock faster, edging to the echoes of past moans you chanted in his ear.

#digger harkness x reader #captain boomerang x reader #ssktjl #ktjl #kill the justice league #arkhamverse #fanfic #smut

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yandere-sins · 2 years ago

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the whole feral scary naga thing is good👀 but do you know of a legend when a white snake was about to be killed but someone saved them, in return they became the snake’s bride? the delusional naga not only making things worst for the reader by forcing them to be their mate, but now the village has no choice but to sacrifice y/n if they dont want to starve to death (nagas in some cultures are higly respected and are important for livelihood and crops)

Oh my gosh... This is perfect... (I have heard of the legend but haven't researched it but even so it's perfect >:3)

You pet dogs and pspsps at cats when you see them, smile at the cows, and oink alongside pigs. All that and more, but you're not necessarily involved with animals as much as other people in your village. You like animals, and you tolerate them around you, but the thing that actually gets you excited is plants. No wonder you became the town's doctor as one of the few people who can differentiate between poisonous berries and digestible flowers. You are an integral part of the community. Nothing could threaten your position as a respected member and being needed by everyone.

Nothing but the damn naga you stumbled upon one day.

There were stories of these creatures, as with every belief, there are countless creatures to know of in your culture. You heard them, acknowledged them, but didn't actually believe in them. Most stories are scars for children anyway, and half-human, half-snake? Sounds impossible for you as a doctor.

For years you roamed the forests for plants for your medicine and studies. Years of never meeting anything scarier than a wild cat or a completely normal but still somewhat scary big snake. Years of walking in and out of the forest unscathed and unharmed. But you are immediately alerted when a human voice calls out to you from a pitfall. You don't recognize the voice from your village, but as a doctor, it's your duty to help.

You do everything you can, from telling them that you're there for them and will get them out of the trap and patch them up once they're out, to cutting vines to make a rope and throw it down into the dark. The possibilities of what could be down there don't unsettle you. All you see is your mission to help. When you tell them to try climbing your makeshift rope, you still expect a human to appear from the very deep, very large pitfall. Oh, how wrong you are.

Because while at first, you see the right things like hands, shoulders, a head, and hair, nothing from the waist down is normal about the suspected human clawing its way out of the trap. But it's too late now to cut the vines as its tail slowly drags itself out of the hole, the proportions becoming uncanny on a body much too big for a human and the tail much too white and standing out to be of a snake.

The real horror, though, is when you meet the creature's eyes, slits for pupils that fixate on you, dilating and narrowing as it musters its savior, its nose sniffing the air while you feel like you're going to throw up as you notice the claws, scales, fangs. The unnaturalness of this monster in front of you.

You made a mistake. A big one. The pitfall was not a dangerous creation for a human by a human. It was a last effort to save humans and keep a monster locked away in a prison it couldn't escape. You released it—enthusiastically even. The desperation you feel, knowing you might have doomed your village, is immeasurable. You can already hear their screams echoing in your ears as they are torn limb from limb by this monster, all while you'll probably die first, unable to help them as they call for you to heal them.

Both of you are staring at each other for what feels like a breathless eternity until the creature slithers—slithers!—towards you, its claws reaching out while you close your eyes, unable to watch it go for the kill. Its arms wrap around your body, and you gasp as it buries its face in the space between your neck and shoulder, your heartbeat racing as you listen to it sniff loudly, deeply inhaling and exhaling through its mouth. A mix of a purr and growl reaches your ears, vibrating in its chest and making you shiver in its grasp as the creature declares you as "Mate" before picking you up, feet dangling so far from the ground you might break a leg if you fall.

Luckily, that's not the creature's intention, and it seems delighted by you clawing at its shoulders, trying to hold on to it out of fear as it begins to carry you away. It's then that you realize that no way can you let it take you somewhere deeper into the forest. You are needed in your village! You are important! Too good to be eaten somewhere even your bones cannot be found anymore! It's a little scary, but as the creature has to lower itself to slip under tree branches and the like, you take the risk, kicking its stomach when it least expects it to create enough distance between arm and body to slip out.

You never ran as fast and breathless in your life as you did with the naga right behind you, crashing into tree trunks and hissing and growling, its claws always dangerously close to your body. You knew the forest well, but the only thing this monster seemed to care about was getting to you. It was foolish to lead it back to your village, but maybe... maybe! The warriors were skilled! The elders might know where to hit its weak spots! There was at least some hope that you could escape it!

The naga only caught up to you when you stumbled into the open clearing where your village was settled. Gasps and screams echoed around you while your face slammed into the ground involuntarily as you two collided, your body collapsing from the run. You heard the calls for the warriors, the terrified screams of the women and children, but all of a sudden, everything becomes very nauseatingly quiet.

Even with the hand of the naga pressing you down into the ground, keeping you from running from it anymore, you somehow manage to look up. What you see is almost more terrifying than all the possible scenarios you could have imagined. Everyone—the warriors, women, children, elders—knelt on the ground before you, bowing their heads, foreheads touching the dirty ground while you heard the unsettling sounds of the creature behind you, hissing and thumping its tail.

"My mate!" it declares loudly, possessively, and the people shudder in reverent fear. Finally, the oldest member of the tribe lifts their head, nodding before answering, "All yours. We will not interfere."

Their eyes fall on you, their lips silently mouthing, "I'm sorry."

You are once again picked up, settled tightly against the naga's chest, enveloped like an inconsolable child in its arms before it turns. You have to watch the villagers slowly rise to their feet as the creature spares their life with your sacrifice. The eldest shakes their head, turning to a warrior before asking how the naga could possibly escape. "I don't know," sighs the warrior. "But that's one more doctor lost to these creatures. And we tried so hard to keep this one."

"Better them than us," the eldest comforts him, patting the warrior's shoulder. "We knew the trap wouldn't be able to keep the naga from what they want forever."

Tears brimming your eyes, you meet the disappointed gazes of the village you thought you were so important to. People who gave you away in a heartbeat to appease some monster, and the bitterness overwhelms you as you realize they knew it was coming. Coming for you of all people, never telling you to leave the village and run for your life. Instead, they used you for as long as they could.

Until you rescued your own death sentence.

#naga #nagas #yandere naga #yandere!naga #yandere talk #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

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sinsmockingbird · 1 year ago

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PTN WOMEN AS PARENTS | Various

PAIRING: Chelsea x Afab!Reader, Cinnabar x Afab!Reader, Deren x Afab!Reader, Rahu x Afab!Reader, Zoya x Afab!Reader

WARNINGS: Fluff, SFW, Children, lmk if there's anything else

AUTHORS NOTE: PTN women as parents.... some may be batshit crazy, but most of them are good parents, I know that for a fact can't change my mind. Also dedicated to @prisoner-of-sin.

✧ CHELSEA

• Chelsea absolutely spoils her children. She will buy them everything, from clothes to toys to pets. If they want it they'll get it, there are no exceptions.

• She's rich, money isn't even the slightest hint of concern for her. She's usually spending every jewel she can make on herself or you, but having her new bundles of joy in the world? Well then, now she's going to spend even more on them too.

• She'll 100% end up being the "Cool Mom," whether that was by accident or not. She doesn't like to be strick and usually allows your kids to get away with things, but she will lay down on them if they go to far.

• Just because Chelsea is pretty relaxed and allows minor things to be swept under the rug if it involves your kids, she isn't gonna hesitate to ground them if they do something bigger than drawing on the walls.

• Be prepared for Sitri to be very overprotective over your kids. Sometimes you'll both wonder if the gem panther considers them hers and not yours.

• It really isn't uncommon to find one of your kids missing, and when you both go into panic, you'll stop and see Sitri holding them by the back of their shirt or cuddled tightly around them.

• It's comical to see how much Sitri and Chelsea are alike when it comes to your kids. Protective and downright aggressive in situations that threaten your kids.

✧ CINNABAR

• Cinnabar is a great balance for a mother. She's fun, protective, loving, and gentle with her kids.

• She's the type of parent that can be found playing on playsets with her kids. Acting like a sea monster when your kids play pirate, or the dragon that kidnaps you, the princess, when they want to play knights.

• Whatever her kids want to do (as long as it isn't dangerous and life threatening) she's all on board to get involved whenever your kids want her to.

• Another thing is that Cinnabar can be quite an awkward parent. When it comes to the talk of "birds and the bees," she's a flustered, stammering mess as she tries her hardest to explain - you'll end up having to be the one that does.

• When your kids are older and start bringing their parents over to meet you both, she's a mix of silent intimidation and social awkwardness.

• Cinnabar almost always has an eye on your kids as well. She worries about them hurting themselves she always wants to have them in her sights. She does this more when their toddlers, because she knows she shouldn't be some kind of "helicopter parent" when they get older.

• It's such a beautiful sight to watch Cinnabar cradling her newborn baby, because she holds them with such delicacy and looks at them like they're her whole world - because you and them are.

✧ DEREN

• Deren - despite what people may think - is anything but lazy when it comes to your kids. She may desperately want to be, but she forces herself to be awake and with them at anytime she can.

• She makes it a real effort to attend every single one of their extracurricular activities. Whether it be seeing their soccer game or attending their piano recital, she'll be there in the crowd cheering them on.

• She doesn't hesitate to leave sights early where she's filming her newest movie - or ending production early that day to get home and be with you and your kids.

• Deren will also take your kids on set quite often, because she wants them to see what she does and also spend time with them as much as possible.

• It's common to have a family movie night, where Deren will play one of her favorite movies (or yours and your kids) because she wants them to have a love and appreciation for movies just like her.

• The cutest thing you can find when you're home is Deren asleep on the couch, or in one of your kids bed with them wrapped up protectively in her arms.

• It's an adorable sight that you've caught sight of many times, and you have enough pictures to show it. Depending on the night you'll tuck them both under a blanket or will crawl into bed with them, a smile usually spreading across her sleeping face when she feels your arms around her.

✧ RAHU

• Rahu is the definition of protective parent. She will go full on fight mode at even the smallest threat. One time she completely destroyed a thorn bush when you child was lightly pricked by it.

• She wants to ensure yours and your child's safety, meaning she is by your guys side almost 24/7. She's not overbearing by any means, she's simply just intent on making sure your safe wherever and wherever.

• On top of being quite protective, Rahu is one of the most awkward parents. It takes her a long long time to get the ropes of parenting.

• It takes her so long not because she doesn't know what to do, but rather because she's afraid. She's afraid of accidentally harming one of your kids because of her strength.

• It's a reason why Rahu is so apprehensive on holding your children when they're first born. She needs personal encouragement and reassurance from you before she'll take your small, newborn baby into her arms.

• It's a beautiful sight to see the usually stoic Rahu just completely melt and become vulnerable as she cradles her child close to her chest, gazing down at them like she would burn the entire world for them, and you know she would.

• There's nothing more important to her than you and her kids, and Rahu would rather die than ever see any one of you get hurt. Your all her world after all.

✧ ZOYA

• Zoya is probably one of the most perfect parents out of everyone. Sure she's violent and dangerous and many become petrified at the mention of her name, but when you give her the gift of her first child, she'll completely melt and become a woman you wouldn't expect to have done violent things.

• She dedicates everything to your kids. She'll push herself away from the Legion (as much as she can while still leading it) and spend her time with you and your children.

• Each kid you have is going to have Zoya wrapped around her finger, and there is almost nothing she wouldn't do for them. She loves each one so immensely that sometimes you wonder if she's going to drown in the love that she holds.

• There are plenty of times that you'll come home to Zoya ropped (willingly) into any shenanigans your kids come up with. From having them to her makeup, to dressing up for tea parties, or playing the role as the valiant hero or dastardly villain.

• If you stumble upon her during these moments and she notices you, be prepared to be pulled into their games and become her dear princess that she saves or the hero who stops her crimes and falls for her.

• When your kids are young and wake up in the middle of night, Zoya will make sure you go back to sleep before tending to them. She'll often be the one to check for monsters in closets and under beds as well.

• But nothing, nothing makes Zoya the most vulnerable than lying in bed with you wrapped up in her arms along with each of your kids. The sight of you all sound asleep and safe besides her will bring tears to her eyes, and she'll thank anyone listening for being gifted with your family.

ENDING NOTES: Probably will make a part 2 of this with other characters, so feel free to send an ask or comment on which characters you'll like to see me write parent headcanons for next.

#*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟsins writings #path to nowhere #ptn fluff #countess chelsea #ptn!chelsea #chelsea x reader #cinnabar #ptn!cinnabar #cinnabar x reader #deren #ptn!deren #deren x reader #rahu #ptn!rahu #rahu x reader #zoya #ptn!zoya #zoya x reader

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deakyjoe · 2 years ago

Text

Stormy Skies

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no pronouns used I think)

Category: friends to lovers

Summary: Din breaks you out of an Imperial prison (loosely based on chapter 15).

Warnings: angst, fluff, touched-starved Din, helmet is off, prison, nasty guards, restraints, bad men, talks of death, separation, loose implication of what bad men can do, pet names (cyar’ika), canon-divergence (I guess??), when I say loosely based I mean very loosely based

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: Sad, brown-eyed, pathetic love of my life. (He's not pathetic but I’ll make him pathetic.) Din is slightly out of character but only because he's head over heels in love and feeling all soft and squishy inside about it. He's also a little insecure. Poor guy. It's purposefully ambiguous about how long reader has been imprisoned, so guess however long you'd like.

Consider buying me a coffee :)

It took three weeks, four days, sixteen hours and twenty two minutes before you realised that the inside of this Imperial prison would be the only thing you saw for the foreseeable future. The three walls and one row of bars now being your home. After that you resigned yourself to the idea that you'd be there forever so you stopped counting the days, the weeks, the... months? You didn't know how long you'd been there and you didn't want to know how long either.

All you knew is that you wanted to leave. Not because you were scared of death or scared of never seeing the outside world again. But because you missed two very important people in your life. The big, scary Mandalorian who had hired you just under a year ago as his mechanic and his strange green son who had weird superpowers who you sometimes babysat. The both of them meant the world to you and the idea of never seeing them again hurt you. You feared for the child's life as he had also been taken at the same time as you but had been imprisoned elsewhere, probably to be experimented on. And you feared for the state of your Mandalorian who would be lost without his kid.

"Food."

The announcement made your stomach lurch as it knocked you out of your thoughts. A small plate, with a pile of something in the middle, was pushed into your cell - probably the most unappealing thing in the galaxy but your only source of nutrition. Your mind strayed to nicer things as you desperately tried to ignore the revolting taste.

You thought of days spent in the Razor Crest, your Mandalorian's ship, as the three of you travelled from planet to planet in order for bounties to be collected. The memories of attempting to teach the child to speak some words in Basic but only getting baby babbling in response, it didn't matter as his eyes always shone as if he knew what you were saying to him.

You ached for your clan of three to be reunited, but realistically you knew that was unlikely. If anything, you just wanted Grogu to be safe. Back with Din and safe. And there was no place safer for him than under the care of Din Djarin.

A guard walking into your cell had you scrambling back against the wall as he took your plate from you and laughed, slightly muffled by his helmet. He kicked at the chain bound around your feet and walked out again, locking the bars behind him.

He was your least favourite of everyone who served in your section of the prison. He didn't seem to like you very much, and wasn't afraid to show it. You feared that one day he'd use the power he had over you to do something awful. So, for now, you tried to play as nice as possible with him.

The sound of low chattering caught your attention, the unmistakable noise of Stormtrooper armour bashing against itself making its way down the corridor. Plastic against plastic made an unbearable racket. You looked up to peek through the bars of your cell and crawled towards the sound, hoping that they weren't coming for you. If you could guess from the sound of them alone, you'd say there were about three or four of them. Definitely more than two and probably less than five.

Your assumption was proven correct when three Troopers turned the corner at the end of the hallway. One was clearly in charge, leading the other two. You thought his name was... you didn't know actually. And you didn't care either. But he was their superior. But the other two... They were low ranking officers, obvious by their uniform and the way they looked around as if they'd never seen the inside of a prison before. Maybe it was their first day on the job? Boy, were they in for a surprise.

The bald one seemed vaguely familiar, although he looked like pretty much any other guy in the galaxy so you didn't dwell on it too much. The other one, however, held no resemblance to anyone you'd ever seen before. He had sad eyes. That was the first thing you noticed about him. Sad, brown eyes. Along with a strong nose that matched his face. Golden skin. And messy hair along with unkempt facial hair. Very un-Trooperish. You wondered how he managed to get away with it. He was rather beautiful to look at. You pushed the thought away with a reminder of what he was - Empire.

As they got closer, you began to overhear their conversation. They were talking about some battle that had been fought a while ago, lots of soldiers lost. Baldy appeared mildly upset as he disclosed that some of his friends had died. Brown eyes wasn't listening and clearly searching for something. And he seemed to find it when his eyes landed on you.

He paused for the smallest fraction of a second before he carried on walking with the other two. He stared at you but you didn't back down, staring right back through the cell bars. You wouldn't let a Trooper intimidate you, especially not a new one. A sense of achievement hit you when he finally looked away, swallowing thickly and averting his gaze as far away from you as possible. He nudged the bald guy next to him with his elbow and tilted his head in your direction.

What the fuck did these guys want with you? You shivered at the thought, a million horrifying ideas running through your brain. You relaxed slightly when they disappeared around the next corner.

The rest of the day passed slowly, as they all did, and soon enough the lights were going out and all prisoners were warned to stay silent for the next few hours. You shifted to get your body in the most comfortable position possible, pretty difficult when you had chains restraining your limbs, and laid down, resting your head in the crook of your elbow.

You drifted off easily, the low drone of the power running through the walls and the floor lulling you to sleep. With nothing to do all day, zero access to natural light and limited portions of food you were tired all of the time. And the little energy you had was reserved for keeping your defences up when guards entered your cell on rare occasions.

Your dreams were full of Din and Grogu, as usual, and you often wondered during your conscious moments whether your brain was reminding you of happy moments to keep you sane or telling you what you'd had and what you'd lost as a way of punishing you.

What you didn't expect was to be awoken a short time later by your cell door being unlocked, the clanging of the metal shocking you out of your dreams. You sat up instantly, freezing when two looming figures walked in, whispering to each other in hushed tones.

The two Troopers from earlier.

You felt sick.

They were both wearing their helmets now and their heads snapped towards you when your chain scraped across the floor painfully. The broader one, who seemed to be leading the team of two, stalked towards you slowly.

"No, no, no, no!" You kicked at him as he went for your ankles trying, and failing, to fight him off. The breath spilling from your lungs was panicked as you failed to notice the other guy groaning and sticking his arms out to tell you to be quiet.

Your name came through the Trooper helmet in a familiar, reassuring voice. It was Din. Your Mandalorian. You'd never felt such a sense of relief race through your body as you relaxed underneath his touch.

"Mando?" You avoided using his real name around other people, as you'd agreed when he first told you. It was a small price for such a wonderful gift. His name. "You're here. You came for me?"

"Yes." He fumbled with your restraints, managing to get the ones off your ankles and moving to the ones on your wrists.

You looked at the other guy who had slipped his helmet off at some point. The bald guy. "Hang on. I saw you earlier. You walked through here with that guy in charge and-" Your eyes snapped back to Din. "That was you."

He was looking at you through the helmet, you could tell. "Come on, we don't have much time."

"B-but... you... your face." Your voice was weak, mind scrambling back to the memory of him. Brown eyes. Sad eyes. Messy hair. Unkempt facial hair. Strong nose. Golden skin. Beautiful.

He faltered. "I know. I did what had to be done."

"You broke your creed." You were almost crying. "To save me."

Hesitation. "Yes, of course. Come on."

The shackles finally fell from your wrists and you launched yourself at him, embracing him even if you were in a life or death situation.

"Thank you."

He seemed uncertain at the gesture as his arms slowly wrapped around your waist. "You don't have to thank me."

You pulled away quickly, not wanting to push it and make him uncomfortable. "Yes, I do." Looking back at the bald guy as you stood up, you squinted at him. "You're familiar."

"Mayfeld." He had a smirk on his face as he watched the interaction between you and Din, sticking out his hand in greeting but you ignored it. "You're welcome for this, by the way. I'm the main reason we're here right now saving you."

His name reminded you of who he was, a scowl settling over your face. "I appreciate it. But we're not out yet. They have people guarding everywhere. And I mean everywhere."

"It won't be a problem." Din's voice was low as he straightened up.

"How do you know so much about this place, hm?" Mayfeld asked you, stepping slightly closer.

"I may have attempted an escape... once or twice." You shrugged and kicked your restraints away from your feet. "That's why I was chained to the wall."

The two men were silent as they stared at you, Mayfeld looking surprised and Din's gaze burning into you despite being obscured by the helmet.

"I know their rotation schedules, how long of a gap there is between shift changes and which Troopers like me best so will leave the handcuffs a little looser." You looked between the two of them. "What? I had time to plan."

"And what have we got now?" Din questioned, glancing back at the open bars. "Anything scheduled to happen?"

You thought it over for a moment, glancing at the clock just outside of your cell. "Shift change in about six minutes. There will be a thirty-three second gap where the doors are unmanned."

"We can work with that." The Mandalorian replied, producing a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket.

A sick feeling settled in your stomach at the sight of them. "Ah, so I'm fake prisoner. Right?"

"In case we come across anyone." Mayfeld explained, a smug grin on his face. "Need to make it believable that we're moving you to a new cell."

With a nod, you looked back up to Din. "Be gentle, okay?"

"Of course, cyar'ika."

You sighed, storing away the nickname to ask about it later. "Where's Grogu?"

His fists clenched by his sides, the leather of his gloves squeaking. "They still have him."

Bile rose in your throat. "What?"

Why was he here if the child was still missing?

"Maker, why are you here?" You asked him, pushing at his shoulder. "You need to save him!"

"I'm here to save you." He was already bored with you again, you could tell by the lack of emotion in his voice. Maybe he was regretting saving you.

"I could have waited! Grogu's a baby!" You cried, worry settling in your stomach at the thought of your poor, poor Grogu possibly being tortured and experimented on whilst you were swooning over Din rescuing you.

"They had information on the kid's location here as well." The Mandalorian offered.

That made more sense. "Ah, so it wasn't just to save me."

"I would've come for you even if they had nothing on him." He sounded annoyed now, frustrated at your questioning.

"Grogu's priority." You turned to Mayfeld. "Why did you let him come here when the child is still missing?"

His hands raised in surrender. "Hey! Don't turn this on me!"

"Be more grateful." Din stated as he walked towards you and turned you around, pulling your hands behind your back to secure them in place with the cuffs. "I could have left you here forever."

You didn't want to admit out loud that what he had just suggested was your worst fear and something you truly believed until he'd showed up. A part of you thought you'd be there for the rest of your life. But you couldn't tell him that. So you offered a weak joke.

"You know what they say... third time's the charm. I'm sure my next attempt at an escape would have worked." The cuffs clicked into place and you tried not to focus on the feeling of being restrained again. You'd spent too long like this, and here you were about to escape and you were back in the same position. It was almost funny.

Din could sense your unease and placed a gloved hand on the small of your back in reassurance.

"Let's go." Mayfeld chimed and marched out of the cell in front of the two of you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and followed behind, Din's hands locked around yours to make sure the restraints didn't pull too harshly. Weaving in and out of corridors was dangerous, especially with the guards constantly patrolling. Unfortunately, it didn't take long before you bumped into a couple of them.

"Halt!" They shouted, raising their weapons to the three of you. "What are you doing with prisoner five six one?"

There was probably too long of a pause between the question and the answer that was finally given, setting off the initial seed of suspicion.

Mayfeld stepped in with his sly smile. "We were instructed to move the prisoner to a new cell."

The two guards bowed their heads together, mumbling a quick debate. Your hands twitched with nerves behind your back and you felt the Mandalorian trace a thumb over them in comfort. It somewhat worked.

"We'll need you to come with us to confirm." One of them said, straightening up and re-aiming his blaster right at you.

"I'm sorry, cyar'ika." Din grumbled with a sigh behind you before there was a slight squeeze on the side of your neck and you were out.

When you awoke you were surrounded by the sounds of a humming engine and the whirring of the inside of a ship. You jolted up and almost hit your head on the top of the bunk you'd been placed in.

Wait. A bunk?

You looked around you rapidly to suddenly realise that you weren’t just in any bed. You were in Din’s bed. On the Razor Crest.

You jumped out of it and stumbled once you landed on your feet, leaning on the wall for support.

“Woah, woah! Slow down, take it easy.” A modulated voice appeared behind you as strong arms wrapped around your torso to keep you steady.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You slurred, still slightly groggy from being unconscious. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours.” Din replied, letting you turn to look at him. He was back in his Beskar armour, looking as shiny as ever. The sight of him made you smile.

“You knocked me out!” You cried but there wasn’t an ounce of real anguish in your voice. In fact, it was rather playful.

He didn’t seem to pick up on that. “It was necessary.”

You waved your hand at him, showing you weren’t really bothered by that. So you approached the subject you were really affected by. “You saved me.”

“Yes.” His voice was a gentle rasp as he spoke the singular word. He was never much of a talker. But you hung on to every word.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“You removed your helmet to save me.” You frowned at him, like you were annoyed at him for breaking his creed.

Another rasp. “Yes.”

“But-“

“But what?”

You laughed like it was obvious. "I don't understand why. I'm just me."

"And it's just a creed."

Your head reared back. "Just a creed?"

"Just you?" He answered back, imitating your tone and inflection.

"That's- Din, it's your life. Being a Mandalorian is everything to you.” You cried, hands waving in emphasis. “Why would you risk that? For me?"

His head tilted to the side in his usual expression of emotion. Or lack of. "This is the Way."

"No.” You snapped. “The Way is not showing your face under any circumstances. And you- you showed your face!"

"To save you."

"Yes!"

The helmet tilted even further. "What part do you not understand?"

"I'm not worth it." You said, hands wringing together in front of you. And you truly believed what you were saying.

"What?"

"Why would you do that for me?"

"I'd do anything for you."

Your mouth snapped shut, the protest you had prepared dying in your throat.

"You and the kid. I'd tear apart this galaxy for the both of you. You're... you're part of my clan."

A part of you wished he'd left you in that prison. If he'd done that then your head wouldn't be spinning and you wouldn't be overwhelmed with emotions at what he was throwing at you in that moment. His clan. You were a member of his clan.

"Din..."

His name was soft from your lips and he sighed slowly at the sound.

"The only way to explain is-" He cut himself off and inhaled, taking a step closer to you. Placing his hand under your chin, he tilted your head up to face him and lowered his helmet so your foreheads rested together. The cold of his armour sent shivers down your spine. Although it might have also been caused by the action of what he was doing, what he was saying.

Din had explained this to you before when you'd asked about affection between the people of Mandalore. It was a way for Mandalorians to kiss without having to show their faces. It was... intimate, to say the least.

Your eyes fluttered shut when the reality of what he was telling you dawned. "Din..."

Another soft whisper of his name had him sighing again.

Unfortunately, he took it the wrong way and pulled back. "You don't have to- The kid and you are important to me. That's... that's what you need to know. About why- why I did this."

You shook your head and smiled at him, hooking your hand around the back of his neck and tugging him down towards you again so your foreheads touched. "And I was willing to die in that prison to keep you and the child safe."

"They... they were planning to kill you?"

"I kept refusing to teach them how to get the kid to use his wizard baby powers. And I wouldn't tell them where you were either. Or how to contact you."

"What did they need me for?"

"See you as a threat. Or to use me as bait. I'm not sure which. Maybe both."

"It would've worked. You as bait. If I didn't already know where you were, of course."

"Of course." You grinned at him and hoped he was smiling back. You tended to guess what his facial expressions were, normally hoping that he was returning whatever you gave him but usually settling on the fact that he was probably bored and his face would show it. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, cyar'ika."

Your stomach flipped at the Mando'a. "What does that mean?"

"It's Mando'a."

"I guessed that. I'm asking for a translation." You rolled your eyes, finally pulling back from the Mandalorian kiss to look at him properly again. "I hope it's something nice."

You could tell he was smiling when he said his next words. They were hesitant, but tender. "It means darling or sweetheart. A term of endearment."

"Oh... that's- that is nice." Mentally berating yourself, you bit on your lower lip to hold back an excited giggle. Nice? There were so many words that were better than nice. "I don't have anything like that where I'm from. If I did I'd-"

He cut you off with a hand cupping your cheek. "I know, cyar'ika. I know."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you just looked at each other. It was broken when Din sighed suddenly and dropped his hand from your cheek.

"I never wanted you to see my face that way."

Oh.

"Din, I-" You cut yourself off to contemplate your words. "I'm sorry that you had to reveal your face. And that I saw. If I'd known... I wouldn't have stared at you."

"No, I didn't mean it like that." He exhaled loudly. "Do you remember? What I look like?"

The memory of his face flashed in your mind. Of course you remembered. Every single detail. And you'd probably secretly treasure it for the rest of your life.

"Yes..."

His head dropped for a second, helmet aimed at the floor, before it suddenly shot back up to meet your gaze. "And?"

"And what?" Having no idea what he was asking of you, your brows scrunched together.

He was so close now that you were sure you'd be able to hear his breathing even without the modulator. "Was I- was I a disappointment?"

"What?" Disbelief ran through you. How could this wonderful, gorgeous man ever be a disappointment? With or without the helmet obscuring his face he had always been and would always be perfect to you.

"Well, you must have had some... some image of what I'd look like in your head."

You immediately disagreed with him. "No, never."

"Don't lie. It's okay. You can tell me."

"I'm not lying. And I am telling you."

"Cyar'ika..."

Your heart did somersaults in your chest. "No, I never conjured up some fantasy of what you'd look like. Because this here-" You gestured at the whole of him, hand waving up and down his body. "-is my Din. This is you to me. Why would I ever warp who you truly are for some made up version?"

"You must've been curious."

You shrugged. "Maybe at the beginning. But who you are on the inside is all that has ever mattered to me."

"So what did you think when you saw my face?"

Your eyes snapped away from his on instinct, embarrassment crawling through you as you recalled your immediate thoughts of him. Thoughts you'd pushed away at the time because you thought he was a Trooper. Thoughts that had resurfaced when you found out that it was really him.

"Oh, no thoughts." Your voice was weak, barely coming out as more than a squeak. It was clear you were lying. "Just that you were a man..."

"Cyar'ika..."

A flush racked through you at the use of the term of endearment. He knew how to make you weak in the knees, how to make you break, you were sure of it.

"Calling me that isn't fair."

"Don't avoid the question." His head tilted to the side. "Tell me. What did you think?"

Unsure at how he'd turned from insecure, sweet Din to a version of Din that had you swooning, you shook your head at him. "I told you. No thoughts."

"And I can tell you're lying. Look at me." He placed his fingers under your chin to angle you to face him. "Tell me."

You started with a small truth. "Your eyes were sadder than I thought they'd be."

He seemed slightly taken aback by that but didn't hesitate too much in answering. "I was scared I'd lost you."

"But I thought you said you didn't know they were planning on killing me?"

"It was always a possibility." He shrugged. "We were getting towards the end of the cells when I saw you. I was... getting nervous. Thought maybe they'd transferred you somewhere else and I'd never find you. Couldn't live with that idea."

If it were possible, you softened even more under his touch. "But you did find me. And I'm here. Safe. Because of you."

"Hmm." He just hummed in agreement, shifting his hand so it moved to cup your jaw instead. "What else?"

You huffed, hoping you'd got out of the line of questioning about your opinions on his appearance. Whilst having openly admitted a whole spout of feelings for each other, you weren't quite ready to declare how absolutely breathtaking he was.

"Don't make me say it."

"Say what, cyar'ika? Hm? I'm just asking."

You leaned into his touch, the warmth from his palm along with the sound of the Mando'a pet name set off a spark within you. When his gloved thumb swooped over your cheek gently you were sure that your brain short circuited.

"You're beautiful, Din."

The statement was breathless but held certainty in it. The Mandalorian didn't reply, too shocked by your confession. He honestly hadn't been expecting you to be so open. And to say that of all things.

So you kept going. "It was never going to matter to me what you looked like underneath the Beskar. Because who you are as a person is the only important thing. But I have to admit that I thought you were gorgeous when you walked past my cell. And then I immediately felt guilty because I thought you were a Trooper." Your head dipped in shame for a moment. "You are beautiful, Din Djarin. Inside and out."

He still said nothing, hands just lifting to the bottom of his helmet.

When you heard the hiss of the seal, your hands slapped across your eyes. "Ah! What are you doing?"

"Taking off my helmet. What are you doing?" He sounded amused.

"Covering my eyes so I don't see obviously." You scoffed and scrunched your eyes beneath your palms.

"Cyar'ika, you've already seen my face."

"So? I might have remembered details wrong."

"Thought you said I was beautiful?"

You huffed, not liking how he was turning that against you. "I did but revealing your identity is a big no-no, Din! That's what the Way says, right?"

"Right." He was holding back laughter.

"Exactly! Doesn't matter if I've seen you before. Might not remember you completely correctly." You remembered him completely correctly. "So we cannot risk you revealing yourself a whole other time."

The way you were so respectful of his creed, no matter how ridiculous you were being at that moment with your hands pressed tightly over your eyes, had Din tingling inside.

"I don't think it's a risk if you've seen me before and you're a part of my clan, hm?"

You grumbled something underneath your breath. "I can't argue with you on Mandalorian culture because you're the expert. But I feel as if you're finding loopholes here."

"Perhaps. Just look."

The sound of his helmet hissing and the dull clang of it hitting the floor had you hesitating before slowly peeling your hands away from your face.

He was exactly how you remembered.

Every line, every scar, every eyelash, every inch of skin, the deep brown of his eyes, the angle of his nose, the unruly tufts of curls atop his head and the uneven patches of facial hair peppered across his jaw and down his neck. This was your Din Djarin. Stood in front of you, everything exposed and exactly how you remembered him. Exactly how you wanted him. Perfect. The whole of him was perfect.

With a stifled sigh of relief, you reached out your hands to cup his face, hesitating for a moment when you realised he might hate that. "Can I?"

He nodded, his eyes looking sad yet hopeful - an improvement from the last time you saw them.

Your palms settled on his cheeks, thumbs swiping over his cheeks and across his bristly stubble. A smile broke across your face when his eyelids closed and he leaned in your touch.

"Oh, Din..." Tears sprang to your eyes yet you couldn't exactly explain why, the flood of emotions was overwhelming.

"Cyar'ika..." He breathed against the skin of your wrist, turning slightly in your grasp to plant his lips against your palm.

You took a step closer to him, encouraging him to duck down and rest his forehead against yours. A Mandalorian kiss, stripped of the barrier between the two of you. He let out a shaky sigh as you made contact, his hair tickling your brow.

"When was the last time someone touched you? Skin on skin?" You needed to know, he was acting like he'd never felt the warmth of physical contact before.

He hummed lowly in his chest as he thought about it, eyes shut tight in contemplation. "My parents, I think."

Your heart ached for him. It had been decades. You wanted more, to give him more, but worried that it might be too much too fast. But you yearned to touch him, to show him how good it could be.

Broken out of your thoughts by a rustling noise between the two of you, you glanced down without breaking away from him to see that he was removing his leather gloves and throwing them to the floor beside you.

You stared at his hands, scars littering both the palms and the backs. You'd never wanted someone to touch you with their hands more.

Din appeared to have the same thought as he hovered them over your sides, fists clenching open and closed. "Can I?"

"Can you what, hm?" You wanted- no needed him to say it, to be as clear as possible between you.

"Touch you. Can I touch you please?" His eyes were still closed but you could see he was restless behind his lids, almost worried even.

"Of course you can."

You expected him to just place his hands on your hips or waist, which he did technically. What you didn't expect was for him to slide his hands underneath the hem of your shirt and place them directly onto your skin, squeezing slightly when he made contact.

You hummed contently in acknowledgement to tell him that it was okay and stepped closer to him, your chest pressing up against the Beskar now.

“Can I kiss you?” The question was sudden, hushed, almost unsure.

You didn’t hesitate in tilting your head upwards and reassuring him of how much you wanted exactly that. “I’m so glad you asked.”

Then his lips were on yours, a relieved sigh exiting him and a content one leaving you.

You moved together in time, like you knew how the other worked and what they wanted. And maybe you did. Maybe you knew each so well, or knew that the other wanted the same thing you did. Din’s thumbs stroked gently at the skin of your waist and yours swiped over his cheeks, brushing away a stray tear that had fallen from his eyes. His sad, brown eyes. You hoped they’d be less sad in the future.

He broke away for a moment to mumble against your lips. "I was so scared I'd lost you."

You shook your head and kissed him again. "I thought I'd never see you again."

“I wouldn’t have left you there.” He promised, hands gripping you impossibly tighter. “There isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t have done to get you back.”

You just nodded at him, believing every word he was saying, and pulled him closer to kiss you again. The way his lips melded against yours and the way your tongues curled together had you convinced that this was meant to be. It was so utterly perfect that it felt as if the stars had written it centuries ago, always destined to happen.

“Cyar’ika…” He hummed to you when you both broke away again for some air.

As much as you wanted this moment to last forever, a thought suddenly re-entered your mind. “Grogu!”

“It’s okay. We know where he is and we’re on our way to get him back.” He smiled at your concern for the child, understanding it completely. He felt the same after all.

You nodded gently, relieved that the child would be back and safe soon enough. Then things really would be back to how they should be again. The three of you - you, your Mandalorian and your green child. Perfect.

A/N: this has been under works for agessss… hope you enjoyed!

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