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tender-rosiey · 1 year

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hii, hope im not bothering uu!!

my brain is obsessed with ur daddy gojo ficsss!! 🤭🤭 just a thought though. what if gojo brought his kid to work since reader couldnt hire a babysitter and had work to do!! 😱😱 kid can be a baby or like, 7-10?? or something? (idrc i jus need to feed my head with more dad gojo fics 😔😔, kid can be a girl or boy!!) hopee u have a nice dayyy!! ❤❤

missing – gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I wrote the kid being around 5 or 6 max, I think?? hope you like this as well! <3

you are standing at the door, checking over everything with your husband, "satoru, you got the toys?"

like the proud and confident dad he is, he replies with ease, "yep."

"the snacks?"

“of course,” he grins, pulling up the bag of snacks and toys to show you.

but you’re still stressing, "what about—“

"wifey, relax!” he starts rubbing your shoulders soothingly; “I got everything she needs. you have nothing to worry about,” he presses a loud kiss to your cheek.

"last time you said that, you teleported with d/n to the maldives."

he laughs loudly, before pulling you into a big hug, "aww, babe; I said I am sorry,” he is swaying the both of you, “you know I wanted you to be with us."

"that's not the point!"

"oh wowie, look at the time!” he looks at his fake watch and starts gently pushing you towards the car, “you’re gonna be late sweetheart."

"oh god!" you gasp, quickly giving satoru his goodbye kiss, and running to your daughter to give her own goodbye peck on the cheek as well, “I will miss you; take care of dada, okay?”

“aren’t I the one who is supposed to do that taking care part?!”

“bye ‘toru; bye d/n! love you!”

“love you too!” they both reply in unison before looking each other in the eye. satoru grins at her, “do you want to see uncle nanami?”

“nanamin!” she squeals then runs to god knows where.

soon, they finally get to jujutsu tech.

it took longer than usual because the little missy ran off and decided to play hide and seek. in addition to that, since the madlives incident, you banned satoru from teleporting with d/n because it gets her really dizzy and she starts puking.

so like the common people, he takes a car and has to wait till they arrive there. he wants to grumble, but, at least, his princess is there to play with him and make conversations.

they are finally in class when nobara coos, crouching down in front of d/n, “oh, you’re so cute!”

the little girl grins, “thank you!”

“also, I love your dress!”

“oh; thank you!” d/n gasps and starts twirling around, “mommy picked it for me! It’s so pretty, right?” nobara nods eagerly at her and it makes d/n giggle.

d/n pauses for a moment, a pout on her face and eyes get teary, and looks at satoru, “mommy…”

satoru pats her head, “we will see her soon; don’t worry.”

“wow; I am surprised you’re acting like a proper dad,” megumi comments, waving at d/n who grins back at him.

swiftly, yuuji defends his teacher’s pride, “hey! sensei is a great dad!”

d/n starts swinging her arms around and running in place like she is preparing for something. soon. it is revealed what she is waiting for. the door opens and she launches herself at the new guest, “nanamin!”

nanami effortlessly catches her and secures his hold on her, “d/n, that was dangerous; what if you got hurt?”

she looks down with yet another pout, “I know…’am sorry. just missed you.”

nanami sighs before patting her head, “it’s alright,” a tiny smile creeps up, “are you having fun so far?”

she nods happily and starts rambling about how cool nobara is or how much fun yuuji is to be around. meanwhile, satoru is standing in a corner with his arms crossed and grumbling, “that’s my daughter, you know.”

“imagine losing your daughter’s affection to someone else,” megumi pops up from behind satoru.

he retorts with no hesitation, “imagine not having a father.”

satoru looks petrified at megumi who is so very offended. satoru starts mini-panicking, “wait—megumi, I was kidding!”

“divine dogs.”

satoru shrieks and d/n squeals, pointing at him, “minmin, daddy’s playing with ‘gumi’s dogs!”

nanami averts his attention to gojo playing (read: being attacked). he nods slowly at the suffering man, “he is having so much fun; isn’t he?”

“yay!” she throws her arms in the air.

nobara snaps a picture of d/n, “she’s adorable!”

yuuji sobs beside her, “I know right?!”

that was at the beginning of the day, but, right now, satoru has to attend a meeting for some reason with the higher-ups, including yaga. though, it hardly counts as a proper one considering that satoru laid out d/n toys so she can play with him.

“daddy, you’re not supposed to give him the green shirt; he needs the blue one.”

satoru quickly obeys, “yes ma’am,” and he changes the doll into his fabulous blue outfit. d/n giggles and holds his face to kiss his cheek.

one of the higher-ups clears his throat, “refrain from such disrespectful behavior during the meeting, gojo.”

satoru smiles humorlessly at the elder, “last time I checked, my daughter’s happiness is a lot more important than the nonsense you spout every single time.”

d/n carefully makes her way down the table and pulls on satoru’s pants, “daddy, toilet, please.”

“this was a fun meeting!” he beams, collecting d/n’s toys in her bag, “I have more urgent matters to attend to so adieu!” he mock bows, before bending to pick his daughter up, “let’s go princess.”

the door closes after satoru and d/n leave, and everyone looks at yaga. he takes a deep breath, “listen, that's his daughter. asking him not to pamper her is like asking a cat to let go of her kittens. you will get bit.”

time passes and satoru is chilling with d/n in the common room. she is laying on his lap and curled around herself. she groggily looks up to him, “when are we going to see mommy?”

he starts stroking her hair, “soon; I promise,” he takes out a candid picture he took of you and hands it to her, “how about you take this until we go back home and see mommy?”

she nods slowly and hugs the photo close. satoru smiles softly and presses a kiss to her forehead. not much after, d/n falls asleep with your photo secure in her hold.

it makes satoru chuckle. it reminds him of how he can never sleep without you either.

that’s why when he goes on mission, he scrolls endlessly through your photos until sleep takes over him or he listens to any voice message you sent. it helps him with the dilemma of missing you, and he is glad it helps his daughter the same way.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo x you #jjk gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n

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strangersteddierthings · 10 months

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Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

#steddie #my fic #wayne pov #wayne munson #eddie munson #honestly this didnt go the way i thought it would #so there will be a third and final part. Wayne's gonna make it right because he's a good uncle. A good dad.#SPOILER: steve doesnt even show up in this part so im not tagging him

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dix0nspretty · 4 months

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Knives, Bikes, and Stitches, Oh My!

Summary: Daryl is working on his motorcycle and you watch. Too bad you can't keep your focus.

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader, 1.3k words

Era: Prison (again) because he's just so yummy...

TW: Mention of blood and stitches. Maybe chronic horniness?

Y'all loved my first story and I hope this one whets your appetites just as well! I have no idea how motorcycles or vehicles of literally any kind work, so please feel free to educate me in the comments.

You put the fear of God in Daryl every time he sees you with a knife.

It’s not that you can’t use one. On the contrary, you’re a force to be reckoned with when you’re fighting. Sometimes all that can be seen of you in a fight is the shine of blood-tinged metal as you slash and stab at whatever is attacking with your twin blades. No, your knives are comfortable and at home in your grip. Maybe too comfortable.

“How many times I got to tell ya to stop eatin’ off yer damn knife?” Daryl’s rough accent sounds out in the empty courtyard. His head is bowed low as he works on his bike, not looking up as he speaks.

I’m perched on the tabletop of one of the prison’s picnic tables eating a can of peaches. Daryl, for some reason unknown to me, had elected to start taking his bike apart and putting it back together and I followed along to watch the process. I don’t know shit about vehicles, much less motorcycles, but I like spending time with the grumpy man.

“It’s fine, I’m not gonna cut myself.” I tell him as I tilt my head down to drag a slice of peach off the blade. Daryl’s eyes don’t move from the work in front of him, but I can feel him watching me. I pull the chunk into my mouth and lick the blade clean of the sticky juice.

“Told ya to cut it out.” I’m eating the canned fruit haphazardly, not paying any attention to how close I am to the edge. Daryl shakes his head. He knows it’s a matter of time before I cut my lip or tongue.

At his repeated command, I roll my eyes but pull away from the edge of my knife. I set the can of peaches down and watch him. His brown hair is getting longer now and it’s sliding down into his eyes, shielding most of his face from my watchful gaze.

“What are you doing, anyways?” I ask. I scoot myself closer to the edge of the table and peer down over his shoulder. He has one of his tools in his hand and some pieces of metal I can’t identify. It is roughly the size of my fist and cylindrical. Whatever it is, it looks important.

Daryl glances over his shoulder, feeling my curious eyes looking down. He huffs and continues his task. “Workin’.”

“No shit. Working on what?” I’m playing with my knife in my fingers, absentmindedly twisting and flipping it. Daryl looks up at me through his hair, squinting one eye against the sunlight. My breath catches in my throat, and I try to play it cool.

“Do ya really want to know or are ya jus’ bored?” He asks in his gruff voice. I don’t answer for a second. He looks so pretty. Get a grip, Y/N, I think to myself.

“Really want to know. Come on, I don’t know anything about bikes. Teach me something.” Daryl squints at me for several seconds longer and I’m convinced he’s going to send me inside to bother someone else, but he slowly starts talking.

“’M cleanin’ the carburetor.” He tilts his hand up to show me the same piece I was looking at earlier. “It’s startin’ to get clogged.”

“Oooookay. What’s that do?”

“It keeps the engine runnin’ smooth, basically. Don’t keep it clear and that can fuck up the bike, make it stall or overheat. Gotta take it apart and clean it every few months.”

Daryl lets me watch over his shoulder as he points out different parts of the carburetor and how to clean them. After a few minutes, his gruff voice starts to fade out and my mind begins to wander.

He just looks so good. His hands are greasy and dirty from all of his work today and his biceps are sweaty from the Georgia heat. He’s wearing one of his simple black shirts that already fit him so well and the sweat is only making him look more delicious. I’m watching his hands work over the small brass jets when I feel burning heat in my palm and look down.

I’d been messing with my knife the entire time and cut myself. I instinctively let go of the blade and it hits the concrete with a harsh clang. Daryl’s head lifts at the noise and he spins around right as I rush to tuck both hands behind my back. I look like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar and I’m trying to hide the chocolatey evidence. Except this time, it’s blood.

Daryl’s eyes run over me for a second, then flick down to my knife as it sits on the dirty floor. He slowly bends down and picks it up. “Y/N.” He starts, a low warning in his tone.

“It’s fine! I’m fine, I just dropped it.” My voice rambles out. There’s a high, nervous note to it and I’m hoping to God he doesn’t notice.

He raises an eyebrow. “If yer fine, why’s the knife got fresh blood on it?” Fuck.

“Uhhhhh.” I look around the courtyard, trying to find an excuse. I, naturally, see nothing. “Magic?”

Daryl huffs and crosses his arms. “Let me see your hands.”

I wince. I don’t want to get in trouble, but I can feel the blood dripping off my hand, and it stings. The longer I hold off showing him the angrier he’ll get.

“Y/N. Hand, now.” Daryl’s voice leaves no room for arguments.

“Jus’, don’t be mad?” I ask. He says nothing and I sigh, then slowly move my hands back in front of me. The blood is quickly evident on my skin.

“God damn it, girl. Why can’t ya ever listen to me?” Despite his rough tone, his hands are gentle as he takes my wrist and tilts my hand, inspecting the damage. I risk a glance at my hand. There’s a slash across my entire palm and more blood than there should be. It’s going to need stitches.

“Ya need stitches.” Told you.

Daryl looks up from my hand but doesn’t let go of my wrist. His eyes lock with mine and he gives me a warm look. There’s exasperation and concern and I don’t know what to do with it. He takes a surprisingly clean rag from his pocket and ties it around my bleeding palm, firmly but not enough to hurt.

I can’t help but be surprised by just how gentle he’s being with me. I was expecting a pop in the side of the head and a banishment to Hershel’s cell. I look up at him through my lashes, waiting for my verbal lashing. After almost a minute, I realize there is none.

“Does this mean I gotta go in now?” I try to keep the potential disappointment from my voice and don’t entirely succeed.

“Yeah, yer going to go get those stitches. Ya weren’t listenin’ anyways.” He grumbles at me. “The hell were you doin’?”

I look away from him. I do not want to explain that I was too busy being horny over him to notice that I gouged my palm open. I risk a glance at him and I’m caught by those ocean-blue eyes.

“I was watching your hands…”

Daryl pauses, then snorts. “Maybe instead of watchin’ my hands ya should’ve been watching yours. Go get your damn stitches and I’ll show ya somethin’ else.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead #twd #twd daryl #walking dead #twd fic #twd fanfiction #twd x reader #norman reedus #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #daryl x you #daryl x female reader #reedus riders

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just-jordie-things · 10 months

Text

just like my crush - fushiguro megumi

word count: 3.8k warnings: swearing, reader is doped up from anesthesia summary: confessing that you have a crush on someone really isn't that hard. all it takes is anesthesia clouding your judgment. a/n: brought to you by my lovely nanami flowershop anon's beautiful brain !!!

___

Injuries in this line work wasn’t unusual. Someone was always occupying Shoko’s little infirmary and keeping her busy. Nasty gashes, sprained wrists, broken bones- it was practically a part of the job description. No, it wasn’t pretty, but at least with a master of the Reverse Cursed Technique on site, the mishaps that came with assignments never lasted too long.

Because of this expectation, Megumi had never been put in a position where he worried over someone’s well being after an exorcism gone awry. He’d had life threatening wounds get healed more times than he could count on both hands, hell, Yuji lost a hand and got that back!

So why did he feel sick to his stomach when she took a bad hit during an assignment? Why did his throat close up too tight for him to explain the situation to the manager on the assignment? Or to Ieiri when he got her back to campus? Why was there a cold sweat racing down his spine, but his insides felt like they were on fire?

Despite all of Ieiri’s insisting that (y/n) was fine, that she’d gotten here just in time, that she was healed and would wake up at any time- likely without the memory of what happened- and that she would still be fine then… Megumi didn’t tear himself out of that room in the infirmary even once.

When she does wake up- two days and a couple hours later- he doesn’t look too good. He’d pale and he’s been bouncing his leg for so long it’s gone numb, but the relief that washes over him brings some color back to his face.

Her eyelashes flicker about a few times before she finally opens her eyes, but his attention is drawn to the way her hand twitches above the stark white sheets.

“Hey,” He murmurs, as quiet as he can stand to speak. He didn’t want to startle her, and he thinks that if she were to flinch back at him, he’d flinch too. “(y/n), you awake?” He asks when she doesn’t say anything right away.

Then her eyes finally find him, and with a hazy gloss over her blown pupils, she smiles. It’s slow, and so, so impaired, but it’s pretty nonetheless.

“Oh, wow,”

Her voice is strained, likely from not having been used for a couple days, but the light and breezy way in which she speaks is enough for him to know that her anesthetics haven’t worn off. The stoner-like smile also tipped him off pretty well, but Megumi’s sure now.

“You know who you look like?”

It’s not the question Megumi’s expecting, and his confusion is obvious in the way a tiny knot forms between his brows. He would’ve thought ‘where am I?’ or ‘what happened?’ would be in order, but maybe the anesthesia was more on top of her than he would’ve thought, so he hums in response and waits for her explanation. Surely she’ll have something silly to say, it wouldn’t be the first time she called him a sea urchin for his messy hair.

“You look jus’ like my crush” (y/n) half-slurs back. She tilted her head in his direction, trying to get a better look at him from where she was laying, but the rest of her body felt too heavy to move.

Megumi’s eyes widen, and before he can stop himself a small laugh comes out. Confusion, humor, and disbelief blend into the overwhelming relief in knowing that Ieiri hadn’t been lying to him to protect his feelings. (y/n) would be completely fine.

Maybe a little bit high, but still, completely fine.

Her shoulders shake in the slightest when she laughs in response to his own little chuckle, delighted purely by his reaction.

“I’m serious,” She mumbles out, eyes falling heavy for a minute the longer she stares at him. “And it’s a compliment too, b’cause he’s, like, really cute” “I didn’t know you were crushing on anyone” Megumi hums, leaning his elbows against the edge of her cot so that he could prop his chin in his hands. Amusement flickers in his eyes when her expression noticeably shifts. Her eyes widen and her lips part but no words come out. Was he actually making her nervous? Who the hell did he look like in her eyes right now that had her reacting like this?

Megumi can’t recall a time she’d ever talked to him about crushing on anyone. Nothing of the sort, not even a hint. And he’d definitely never seen the ruthless sorcerer appear so…

Well, she looked like a girl with a crush. A blush was forming on her cheeks the longer he held eye contact with her, and the way the corners of her mouth twitched and betrayed her as she tried to bite back a smile.

“Y-yeah, duh,” She stammers back at him with a sassy roll of her eyes. Megumi’s quick to push his hand against his mouth to stifle his laughter. “The point of a crush is it’s secret”

“So you’re not gonna tell me then?” He asks curiously.

She probably didn’t know it, but (y/l/n) (y/n) was the only person in the world that got to see the playful side of him. It was hard not to act on his intrigue, though. It was too entertaining to see her in this state… and the rapid beating of his heart in his ribcage made him ache to know more.

But she shakes her head against her pillow, sealing her lips shut to further prove her point. She’s still smiling, though, and she hasn’t torn her eyes off of his since she woke up.

“How’re you feeling, anyways?” Megumi decides to steer the topic back to one of more importance. “Anything hurt? Can I get you anything-?”

“Even your eyes are pretty like his,” She interrupts him, and then sighs as though this was a large inconvenience for her. “You must be related,” She says matter-of-factly.

He hopes that when the drugs wear off she doesn’t remember this moment, because Megumi knows his face is as red as a tomato with how fiery his skin feels. A nervous laugh bubbles out of him before he could choke it down, and her whole face lights up in response.

“You must not get compliments often, huh?” She teases in a slow drawl.

“I… I guess not,” He says, followed by more nervous laughter that happens against his will. “But thank you, (y/n). That’s very… kind”

He’s painfully awkward, and he knows that as soon as he leaves this room he’s going to overthink this entire interaction, but for now he tries to bask in the warmth that sparks from knowing she thinks he has pretty eyes. Or at least, she does when she’s so doped up she can’t quite focus on a conversation.

But at least she's obviously not in any pain. Megumi’s worries begin to melt away, but that might just be the work of her flattery.

“You’re welcome,” She grins back at him, but she just as soon furrows her brows and regards him curiously. Even after staring at him so shamelessly, she suddenly doesn’t appear to recognize him one bit. “I thought Megumi only had a sister, though”

It comes out in a mumble, and he’s sure that she’s talking to herself in her deluded state, but the rush of heat that floods his chest and shoots up his neck is nearly too much to bear.

She actually didn’t recognize him this whole time? Was she talking about him this whole time? Was the flattery not a drug-induced misconception and actually-?

Before he can settle on a question to ask her to clear his confusion, she’s settling back into her pillow and her eyes are falling shut. Megumi opens his mouth, ready to force out the first thing that comes to mind, but she drifts off almost immediately. Her chest rising and falling in slow, steady movements.

It felt like a cruel prank.

Now he was left sitting and gaping at her unconscious form. His heart is racing and his leg is bouncing again, and Megumi thinks he might be even more anxious for her to wake up this time.

He decides then and there that when she does, and when she’s of sound mind again, he’ll ask her about it. Because if she really did have a crush on him he’d have to finally get over his ridiculous anxiety and make a move. ___

A week after making a full recovery, (y/n) comes to the decision that if she wants Megumi to talk to her, she’ll just have to corner him.

She’s not sure why he hasn’t been talking to her- hence her cornering plan- but ever since her last assignment had gone awry and she’d been put on a minor hold, he’d been dodging her. And sure, Megumi wasn’t always the most sociable guy, but he was a friend and even if he didn’t feel like hanging out, he wouldn’t completely ghost her like this.

Of course she’d tried asking Yuji and Nobara about it, but they were a dead end. They’d been just as surprised as she was that he’d been avoiding her.

I thought you were best friends, Yuji had frowned at the idea of a falling out between his two friends that he cared about so much.

Maybe he realized you have a crush on him and pussied out, Nobara had cackled at the scenario, not feeling an ounce of worry that this weird bump wouldn’t get resolved.

Needless to say, (y/n) was quick to steer her investigation far away from them, before the blabbermouths could do what they do best and blab around the wrong people.

She corners him while doing laundry, of all things.

“Hey,”

And when she walks into the room while he’s tossing his freshly washed laundry into the dryer, Megumi hits his head on the lid when he swivels around in shock to see her there.

“Oh god, are you alright?”

“I’m fine- it’s fine,” He answers all too quickly, before she’s even finished her question. “I’m almost done with the washing machine”

(y/n) can’t help but chuckle a little bit, seeing as she wasn’t currently holding a basket of laundry, but Megumi’s already back to filling up the dryer. It appears every piece of clothing he tosses in is monochrome- mostly black, but a few gray pieces here and there. This shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it is a bit funny.

“I actually was looking for you,” She tells him, leaning against the doorframe. It’s half casual, and half to block his only escape. Megumi responds with a small hum, still putting all of his focus on moving the laundry. “Are you upset with me?”

The question has him swiveling again, finally giving her his undivided attention. It’s a bit unnerving, the way he straightens up and goes rigid as he stares back at her in bewilderment. She wants to be annoyed that he has the audacity to look confused when he was the one that had been avoiding her for days, but she gives him the benefit of the doubt

“Upset? No. No of course not” He answers, and his words are so certain, that she believes him straight away. But the small bit of truth doesn’t provide much relief.

“Then how come you’ve been dodging me?” She asks, unable to help her frown. What other reason could there be? If he’s not mad at something, why would act so flaky?

“I haven’t been dodging you”

“That’s a lie”

“It’s not?”

“It is,” She crosses her arms defensively. “You haven’t been answering your phone and you always have some excuse to not talk to me. Did I do something?”

“Not really”

He winces as soon as the answer leaves his mouth. It wasn’t like him to get so careless- but it also wasn’t like him to avoid her. Really, he was falling apart at the seams and trying quite desperately to appear as though everything was normal.

It wasn’t working. (y/n) could see the panic in his eyes as clear as day. Not to mention the way his lips twitched like he was holding back further explanation. She narrows her eyes as she studies him carefully.

“Not really?” She repeats his lame answer. “So sort of? So I did do something?”

Megumi’s certain that she chose to stand in the doorway so he couldn’t make an easy escape. Would it be immature to summon the rabbits?

“(y/n) it’s- it’s fine. It’s me, alright?” He’s not very convincing.

“So you did something?” Another question he doesn’t want to answer.

“No- just- not really- it was just-” He stammers, and then groans, tilting his head back and glaring at the fluorescent light hanging over him.

He recalls the way he’d sworn to himself that he’d talk to her about her little anesthesia-induced confession, and kicks himself now for cowering out of it. Megumi never really ran away from a challenge, even when he knew he was in over his head. But something about standing before her now and explaining how she’d inadvertently confessed to having a crush on him makes his heart beat out of sync and his throat go dry.

“Look I just don’t want things to be weird between us,” (y/n) sighs, giving up on interrogating him so heavily. “So just… whatever it is, can we talk about it?”

And he swoons, actually swoons. His knees physically feel weak and he has to resist the urge to let all of his muscles relax and sink towards the ground. It was so sweet, so considerate of her to want to mend the nonexistent conflict between them. Megumi didn’t think it was possible to like her more than he already did, but she had a knack for proving him wrong.

So with an anxious breath, he thinks screw it and just lets it out.

“Do you remember waking up and talking to me in the infirmary?”

Her brows furrow, giving him her answer, and then her features soften with realization.

“You visited me in the infirmary?” She asks, almost in a whisper. No, she didn’t remember, and no one had told her she’d had any visitors during her short stay there.

Megumi nods his head.

“Yeah, I… I stayed till you woke up. And you did, for a couple minutes anyways, but you were pretty out of it. Anesthesia and all” He explains.

She tries to rack her memory for any hazy glimpse of talking to Megumi in Shoko’s clinic, but nothing comes to mind. She feels a little guilty now, having forgotten so easily.

“Okay…” She trails off, waiting for the rest of his explanation. “So… something happened then?”

Megumi hesitates, his expression twisted in mild displeasure, like he just stubbed his toe or has to deliver an oral presentation. (y/n) tries to be patient, she really does, but the longer he draws this out the larger the pit in her stomach grows.

“Yeah,” The word comes out through a heavy breath, and he pauses for just a moment longer before admitting the last detail. “You… you sort of confessed that you have a crush on me”

“Oh,”

Relief settles into her bones, and then a spike of panic.

“Oh”

Her eyes are widening and her arms wrap tighter around herself, fingers digging into the sides of her ribs as if she could possibly ground herself with her anxiety reaching an all time high.

For fuck’s sake, she wasn’t this anxious when that Grade One tried to take a massive bite out of her body.

“You were really out of it, though,” Megumi says quickly. “You were just… high. You probably just couldn’t see or think straight-”

“No, I wasn’t just high,” She cuts him off with surprising calmness in her voice, and a short shake of her head. “I do. Have a crush on you, I mean. I didn’t… obviously I didn’t intend to tell you that, but, I guess high-me can’t keep a secret, so…”

She trails off with a bashful giggle that would have embarrassed her if she wasn’t already filled to the brim with embarrassment. Megumi’s lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. The corner of his mouth twitches a few times too, and still, he’s standing in bewildered silence before her.

It’s not that he didn’t believe her, he was eighty-five percent sure that she’d meant what she said while she was still under the influence of the anesthetics, but that fifteen percent of uncertainty was his paranoia getting the best of him. But now she was of sound mind, dead sober, and dead serious as she stared at him and awaited some sort of reaction.

No real reaction came, unless you counted the drumming of his fingers against his side, slow at first, but picking up speed the longer they both stood there and waited for the other to say something.

Megumi knows he should say something, and probably something along the lines of; well that’s a relief because I’m actually crushing on you so hard I don’t know what to do with myself… but unfortunately, he really didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Do I even want to know how badly I embarrassed myself?” (y/n) breaks the silence with a nervous but curious smile.

“You said I looked just like your crush,” He explained, heat flooding to his face as he recalled the other things she said. “It was actually the first thing you said when you woke up,”

She has to laugh at that a little, to which Megumi feels some of the tension in his shoulders disappear. The tension in the room also starts to thin out, much to his relief.

“Then you went on about how cute your crush was. And when I tried to ask how you were feeling, after, you know, surgery and all that, you ignored me and said…” He rubs the back of his neck, growing shy as he realized he was rambling and the subject matter already had his heart racing.

“Oh god… what?” (y/n) gasps, eyes widening, hoping she didn’t let out some dirty thought that she worked very hard to keep in the back of her mind.

“You said I had pretty eyes, and then you sorta let it slip that I was your crush, so I guess you didn’t realize you were talking to me the whole time… and then you passed back out”

She’s laughing again, but this time she covers her face with her hands in a pitiful attempt to hide her blush until it goes away. A small groan dies at the back of her throat. The second hand embarrassment from her past-inebriated-self was just too much.

After all this time she's done so well at keeping her feelings under wraps, of never letting it be known with a slip of tongue or lingering touch, only to tell him so brazenly while in a hospital cot… it was ridiculous.

“God… I’m so sorry, that’s… wow, that’s probably the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done” She starts off looking at him, but ends up muttering to herself and looks away, still overwhelmed by the mortification of it all.

A small smile graces Megumi’s face, and in a moment of being true to his word, he musters up the courage to speak up before she could walk away and pretend this didn’t happen.

“It was more cute than humiliating,” He tells her, and she peeks back up at him in soft surprise. “Maybe just a little embarrassing, just a little… but… still cute” His voice gets softer the longer she looks at him and he starts to lose the confidence he started out so strong with, but he still holds her gaze, hoping that she’ll know he means it.

“Cute?” She repeats in quiet disbelief. Megumi nods back at her with absolute certainty and sincerity.

He gives into another bout of a confidence boost and takes a few steps forward, closing some of the space between them. (y/n) practically scrambles to straighten up away from the doorframe, her shoulders squaring and her eyes widening as she watches him move towards her.

“And for what it’s worth, I think you have pretty eyes, too,”

It’s quieter than he intends, but his words are effective in replacing the nervous tension in the room with something much more palpable. The electricity buzzing between them was so thick they were practically choking on it.

(y/n) smiles, slow at first, processing the sudden compliment, and then all once. Every inch of her skin warmed from the sweet words, and she’s not sure she’s ever felt flattery like this before. She’s never taken a compliment so to heart, never known that she was going to go to sleep that night playing it over and over in her head.

Megumi’s eyes flicker between hers for a moment, admiring the way she lights up with delight before him, and then he opens his mouth again.

“They look just like my crush’s”

Her brows furrow and despite that feeling of embarrassment spiking in her chest again, the corner of her lips curl into a smirk that gives into a smile almost immediately after. Megumi’s clearly amused by this reaction, laughing to himself like he was so proud of his own tease.

“That’s so corny” She mutters, before stepping away from the doorway and closing the last bit of distance between them.

Despite his nerves he anticipates her movements, large hands finding purchase on her hips and practically yanking her the rest of the way that it takes to have her body against his. There’s no extra time for words before their lips crash fast. The kiss is surprisingly tender for how rushed their movements were, but it had them both melting into the other right away.

Her hands are gentle as they smooth over his shoulders before wrapping lightly at the nape of his neck. Her fingers poke into the dark strands of hair that hang there, and when she curls a few locks between her index and middle finger, he presses his lips against hers with a little more fervor.

Even once they part from one another, neither one goes very far. Gasping for air with lips still brushing each other’s, noses bumping, and hands still holding on tight all in the name of not putting an inch of distance between them.

Still no words are exchanged as they share a look before both glancing at the open doorway behind them. It doesn’t take verbal communication for Megumi to reach behind her to grab the door by the handle and swing it shut. The only sound that fills the room is the white noise buzzing from the dryer cycle, and the soft giggle that’s immediately suppressed by warm, inviting lips pressing against hers again.

___

a/n: thank u again my amazing nanami flowershop anon for this really fun idea. also i just love playful megumi. he's so cute n shy <3

xoxo ~ jordie

#nanami flowershop anon #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi imagine #megumi imagine #megumi fushiguro imagine #fushiguro megumi fanfiction #megumi fushiguro fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #megumi brainrot #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi

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sugarypinecones · 10 months

Note

coriolanus snow is a possessive mofo and i’d love nothing more than to be marked up to all hell by him and walk into the academy with everyone having a clear idea of who I belong too

the very first night - young!coriolanus snow x reader smut

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ i drive down different roads, but they all lead back to you.. ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

warnings: smut (but not anything too serious), f!receiving oral, snow fingers reader, possessive snow, fluff, probs missing some jus lmk

a/n: DO NOT BE AFRAID TO SEND ME PROMPTS I NEED PROMPTS RAHHHHH (grasping at straws) also sorry if this isnt what u imagined it as or dont like it, it is not my proudest work tbh

tags: @czarinera @long-live-the-cats @edb954 @sarahskywalker-amidala

Snow was a nice guy. At least, that’s what he wanted to people to think, so that’s who he tried to be. He never got into serious trouble, and he certainly would never do something to jeopardize whatever it was he had with you.

For the past few months, you two have been finding yourself sneaking into eachother’s beds, finding comfort in eachother throughout each of your own hard days. Snow never would’ve thought someone like you would’ve dated him, seeing as there are richer boys, people who could certainly give you a life you’ve always dreamed of and obviously deserved.

He knew you two weren’t exclusive, and he knew he couldn’t get so upset whenever he saw you talking to another guy, one who relatively served no threat, even though there’s nothing to be threatened - aside from his extremely complicated relationship with you.

His gaze falls to you and a boy across the room, the soft smile you’d always give him in the halls adorning your face as you push his shoulder, Snow’s eyebrows knitting together as he is now staring at you two, no secret about it.

You hugged the boy, Snow rolling his eyes and diverting his gaze, scared if he looked for too long he’d do something he regrets. The sound of your heels clicking across the floor make him look back, you turning down the hall, likely to go back to your house seeing as the work for the day was done and there was nothing left to do, aside from sit around and talk, which is normally what happened, but you left early today. He quickly stood up, rushing down the hall as quickly as he could without raising any suspicion, seeing as you both agreed this would stay between you.

However, everyone knew what you two were doing. Nobody ever mentioned anything, just smirked to eachother or laughed when you two return five minutes apart as if someone wouldn’t catch on sooner or later.

He finds himself following you down the short path to your house, in which you turn around hearing the extra step of footsteps, furring your brows as your eyes catch his. “Coryo?” You whisper, looking around to be sure nobody saw you. “Y/N,” He breathlessly whispers, walking closer as he grabs you by the waist, needy and quickly.

You laugh softly, looking into his eyes as he kissed you, closing your eyes as he pushes you towards your house, unable to wait any longer, “Who was he?” He whispered as he pulled apart, you opening your eyes wide as he studied your face. “Just a friend, Cor-” You were cut off by another kiss, dropping down to your neck quickly as you shut the door, reaching for the lock but unable to as he pushed you against the wall, leaving sloppy and messy kisses across your neck.

“So what am I, then?” He looked up at you, and you look down as you swallow dryly, unsure of what to say. “Uh..” You trail off, another kiss placed to your neck as you close your eyes. “What do you want to be?” You ask, Snow lifting himself to your height, “Yours.” He was serious as he stares at you, shock adorning your features. “Unless that’s too..” He was cut off by a kiss, followed by a soft smile. “You’re mine,” You clarify, Snow’s face looking everywhere on yours as if he was imagining the entire encounter.

He kissed you again, bringing his kisses in a soft trail down to your neck once again, you whining softly as you close your legs, Snow’s free hand gliding to your legs, easily prying them open with his fingers as he rubbed his hand against your clothed clit, you moaning as he kisses your collarbone now, looking up as you struggle to keep yourself upright as he continued to move his hand back and forth, grabbing at the material of your pants to pull it down every once and a while when he had a good opportunity to.

“Coryo,” You whine as he raised his lips from your collarbone, glancing at you as soft purple marks are forming slowly yet noticeably across your neck, and although he may have stopped kissing you, he surely hasn’t stopped the motion between your legs as you close your eyes shut, pointing to the couch as he smirked softly, bringing you into a kiss as he guided himself with the hand that wasn’t occupied with pleasuring you.

He laid you down on the couch, your back propped up against the couch cushions as he finally worked your pants and panties down, immediately taking the opportunity to stick his fingers in and out of your cunt, the slick noises mixing with your moans as he brung his kisses back down to your chest, feeling smirking against your skin as you raise your head up, gasping out as you’re legs subconsciously close as you’re approaching your high.

Within seconds, you’re seeing stars as he’s still pumping his fingers in and out of you, leaving a trail of soft and messy, needy kisses down to your skirt, which he lifts up to cover your stomach as he licked stripes up and down your pussy, prying your thighs open with his hands, leaving the knuckles of his hands white and the skin he’s pressing against red as he ate you out like a starved man.

The next morning, you woke up groggily as Snow rushed around your living room, straightening his hair out as he seemingly looked for a brush, you sitting up with confusion. “Oh, good, you’re up. I went to go clean you up.. and.. you kinda fell asleep,” He explained as he finally found a brush, tugging it through his hair as your eyebrows knit together again, looking to your clock, thirty minutes until the doors to the academy opened and you were expected to be in your seat.

You quickly find your pants, pulling them up your body as you slide back into your shoes, snatching the brush from his hands as you walk over to the bathroom, Snow rolling his eyes as he headed out the door, about to make sure nobody saw him, almost instinctively before he realized he didn’t have to anymore.

As you rush through the door of school, almost late as you practically slide into your seat, your table-mate raises an eyebrow as you breathlessly slide your head onto the table. “You had fun last night, didn’t you?” She teased, a few others laughing to themselves as they look at Snow, who closed his eyes slightly embarrassed as Sejanus pushes at his shoulder, laughing as you both look at eachother for a split second before looking away.

#young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader imagine #coriolanus snow x reader smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow smut #snow #tbosas x reader smut #tbosas imagine #tbosas x reader #tbosas smut #tbosas

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virginsexgod69 · 6 months

Note

REQUEST ‼️‼️‼️

I’ve always wanted to read one where the reader is one of Hershel’s daughters (set in season 2). When Daryl and the group show up the reader won’t stop teasing Daryl and eventually he can’t take it anymore. Please make my dreams come true 😭😭🤘. (p.s virgin reader would be +50 points ;)

❝ V-Card ❞

pairing (S2) Daryl Dixon x virgin!fem!Reader

cw loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, lowkey inexperienced daryl, but also not really?, teasing, some pining, daryl kinda being a boob man, reader being a little pervy at times

note i am so sorry i kept you waiting 32 days for this request @mygrandmaschinacabinet, i really hope you like this and thank you for your patience and kind comment on my other post!

p.s. just bc reader is hershel's daughter does not imply anything ab her appearence

~5.k words

Living on a farm that was fairly far from society, it was a given that you wouldn't see good looking guys too often. But being a good looking girl, the guys you didn't want were always the ones after you, and you'd always have to turn them down. When she gets older, she's gonna have to fight off boys with a stick, was something your grandma would often tease your father, Hershel, about. You laughed it off, not paying any mind to it, but boy did she end up being right. You spent a good portion of your high school years rejecting your suitors, none of which were good enough for you, and none of which you really wanted. But when you finally laid eyes on the most beautiful man you've ever seen, he happened to be one who seemed to pay you no attention.

Odd circumstances brought the beautiful man, whom you quickly learned was named Daryl Dixon, to your farm. Otis shot a kid, Hershel took him in to care for, and his dad's group eventually made a home on your father's land. You couldn’t help but ogle at him from your bedroom window whenever you got the chance. The way his biceps flexed whenever he worked with his arms had your virgin pussy aching to be filled by him. He was a man who you’d let do things to you that you’d let no other man before even think he had a chance of doing.

“Not this again,” Maggie complained upon entering your room. You were perched at your window -like you have been since the group first arrived- watching Daryl skin some squirrels. No one could look as good as he did while doing such a grisly task.

“Can you blame me? Jus’ look at him,” you replied dreamily.

“No thanks.”

“Whatever. You have your eye candy, I have mine.”

“Eye candy? What’re you talkin’ about?” She asked defensively.

“Glenn. I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s a piece of meat,” you teased.

“Whatever! Do you need anythin’? I’m goin’ out on a run.”

“With Glenn?”

She let out an annoyed huff and exited the room, not awaiting your response. But you didn’t need anything anyway. You went back to watching Daryl. The sweltering Georgia heat caused sweat to drench his sleeveless shirt and drip from his short, dark hair. He looked like he walked out of one of your many wet dreams. Just then, an idea popped into your head. You hurried down to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, cooling it with the scoops of ice you added. Surely this kind deed would put you on his radar.

“Hey, Daryl,” you cheerily greeted as you approached the rugged man. He sat on a stump, now gutting the squirrels he already skinned. He grunted in response, not looking up from his work. Your smile dropped, not that it mattered, considering he wasn’t even looking at you.

“Brought you some water. It’s pretty hot out here and I wouldn’t want ya gettin’ dehydrated,” you said as you held out the cold glass, now dripping with condensation. “Thanks.” He grabbed the glass, his fingers slightly brushing yours, sending a tingling through your spine. He threw his head back, downing the water. A small stream of water dripped down his chin, then his neck, sliding down his shirt no longer in your vision. You squeezed your thighs together. Every little thing he did drove you crazy. You felt like a victorian man who’d just seen a peek of a woman’s ankle whenever you were around Daryl.

“You uh… Ya need somethin’?” He asked when he noticed you haven’t left yet. You froze. You didn’t need anything, but you didn’t want to leave either.

“Jus’ came to check on ya, I guess,” you muttered.

“ ‘M fine?” He tossed the squirrel’s guts into a bucket.

“Well, alright. My work here is done!” You cringed as the words left your mouth. You grabbed the emptied glass and walked back into the house, chastising yourself the entire way. You wanted nothing more than to have him look at you the way other guys do, but he barely give you the time of day.

The glimmer of sunbeams on your face woke you up the next morning. You glanced at the analog clock on your nightstand that read 11:36. You hopped out of bed and eagerly hurried to your window, hoping Daryl would be back from hunting or looking for that little girl or whatever else it was he did when he wasn’t in his usual spot. He was sat on that stump again, but this time he was cleaning his crossbow with that red rag he kept on him. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had to do something. He couldn’t keep getting away with being so hot and so uninterested in you.

You readied yourself in the bathroom, making sure every hair was in place and every tooth was brushed. You debated putting on makeup. You had some leftover from before, but never had a reason to use it, not until now. You layered on some mascara until your lashes looked twice as long and twice as full and coated your lips with some tinted gloss. You stared into your closet debating on what you thought Daryl’d like better. Your tightest, shortest shorts and a nearly see-through tank top.

“What’re doin’ all dolled up like that?” Your younger sister, Beth asked upon entering the kitchen.

“Makin’ lunch for D-,” you stopped yourself, not wanting another sister catching onto your thing for Daryl, “for the group out there.”

“Daddy doesn’t want us wastin’ all our stuff on them,” she protested. You rolled your eyes at her. She could be such a goody-two-shoes sometimes. “What he don’ know won’ hurt him.” You cut a piece of the sandwich you made and handed it to Beth.

“Eat this and keep quiet.”

You assembled the sandwich and a glass of lemonade on a tray and carried it over to his lone camp. He didn’t look at you until you were standing before him holding the tray of food. His eyes slowly made their way up to yours, lingering on your bare legs and exposed cleavage on their way up. You couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged the corners of your mouth at this small victory. He quickly averted his gaze and set his crossbow down.

“Wha’s all this?” He asked, nodding his head toward the tray in your arms.

“Made ya lunch. Figured you’d be hungry after all that huntin’ and searchin’ you been doin’,” you answered as you set down the tray.

“Uh, thanks?” He seemed confused, but grateful nonetheless. “Of course,” you replied with a bright smile before sauntering off, swaying your hips more than usual. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you until the door closed behind you.

In the days that passed, you upped the ante on your teasing. Daryl noticed. At noon almost everyday, you’d bring him lunch in risqué little outfits. Not quite skimpy, but just enough to tease him. And tease him they did. He already was too nervous to look at you, afraid he might scare you off with his gruff nature and lack of experience with women. He’d choose, instead, to catch glimpses of you when you weren’t watching. Like when you’d leave after bringing him something, or when you’d be around doing farm-work or interacting with the other members of his group. But when you started wearing those revealing outfits, it became harder for him to keep from looking at you. But when he made eye contact with you, he became so nervous and shy that he had to look away. You were the sun. He could feel your warmth, even when he couldn’t see you. You were so bright and beautiful that he felt pulled to look at you, but whenever he did, it couldn’t be for long because he’d forcibly look away, your bright smile burning his sensitive retinas.

Speaking of the sun, there you were. “Daryl!” You called as you ran to him. The actual sun glowed behind you, making you look even more like an angel. He was atop one of your horses ready to leave the farm to look for Sophia. He was shocked to see you since you usually weren’t up until noon. He’d know since that’s around the time he sees you watching him through your window.

“Yeah?” He grunted.

“Ya goin’ out to look for that little girl?” Once you were out of the sunlight, he could actually get a good look at you. Something in him stirred when he saw you in the little dress you had on. It was a cream color with ruffles at the bottom and it gave him a good view of your breasts from his position on the horse. He quickly tore his eyes away and looked at the view ahead of him, which was nowhere near as beautiful as you.

“I figure you’ll be gone for a bit, so I brought you a little bite to eat,” you said holding up a few muffins you made the other night wrapped in cheesecloth.

“T-thanks,” he stuttered. Despite how frequent it was, he was always taken aback by the kindness you show him. He’s never been treated the way you treat him before and it caught him off guard.

“Be back by dinner, okay?” It wasn’t a command, more of a hopeful question, but made his heart flutter.

“I’ll try.” He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep. You stood there fiddling with your dress about to say something but deciding against it each time.

“Wha’ is it?”

“B-be safe out there!” You blurted before scampering off. He found it odd how you could be so bold with your teasing, yet shy when it came to actually talking to him.

Your words echoed in his head as he searched for any sign of Carol’s lost daughter. Your request of be back by dinner, okay? motivated him to get back to the farm, despite his injuries from the horse tossing him down a cliff making it difficult for him to move. But what really stuck with him was your horrified scream when you saw Andrea shoot him. That scream haunted his dreams while he was unconscious. The terror of it being the last thing he’d hear from you was his real nightmare. So when he heard your soft “Hey,” he felt relief wash over him, despite the pain everywhere else. He blinked his dry eyes open only for the first thing for him to see being your tits. You had on a loose t-shirt with no bra underneath. He didn’t know if this was a part of your teasing or a pure mistake, but either way, his cock stirred at the sight. You leaned down further to look into his eyes.

“How ya feelin’?” You ask, placing the back of your hand to his forehead. He tried to croak out a response, but his throat was too dry. You quickly grabbed the glass of water at his bedside and helped him drink it.

“Better?”

“ ‘M fine,” he said. You gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him, but were humoring him anyway. “You were injured pretty badly, Daryl,” you said as you gently stroked his hair. He caught himself before he could fully melt into your touch. In fact, he moved away from it.

“I know, ‘m fine,” he snapped before trying to roll over, away from you. He didn’t like you seeing him like this. So weak and frail, having to depend on those around him. He didn’t see the hurt expression that took over your pretty face. But, to his luck, you didn’t let him push you away. Instead, you toed off your shoes and got into the bed beside him, facing him. He hoped to the high heavens that you couldn’t see the redness that blossomed on his face when you flashed your bright smile at him.

“I’ll keep ya company,” you promised.

“Don’ need no company, said ‘m fine.” He didn’t know why he was so adamant about pushing you away. The minute he realized you were in here, he brightened up. He didn’t want his sunshine to leave, but he couldn’t help the storm that was brewing inside him.

“Well, if you really want me to leave, I’ll go.” You were almost out of the bed before his clammy hand grabbed your wrist.

“Nah, you can stay,” he said, prompting the return of that bright smile.

When you woke up, the sun was setting and Daryl’s arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your heart swelled, this was all you ever wanted, to be in Daryl’s arms. Okay, well you wanted more than just his arm around you, but small victories! You gently moved his arm off you so you could get up and get some dinner from him and yourself.

“What were you doin’ in there?” Your father asked as soon as you stepped out of the room. He stood outside, about to come in, holding a tray of food for the bowman.

“Nothin’, Daddy, I was jus’ checkin up on our patient!” It was the truth, but it felt like a lie.

“Since earlier this afternoon?” He pressed.

“Lost track of time,” you explained.

“Now, honey, I know you’re just lookin’ out for him, but-“

“I know, I know, you don’t really trust them, but I’m just lovin’ thy neighbor, so to speak.” You bargained.

That response seemed to satisfy him for now. He handed you the tray of food to give you Daryl.

“Daryl, dinner,” you called softly upon reentering the room. He groaned, but woke up anyway. He tried to sit up, but winced in pain. You set the tray down and quickly ran to his side to help him out. You adjusted his pillows and helped him to a sitting position.

“Wha’s fer dinner?” He asked, glancing at the bowl of soup on the tray beside him on the bed. You hummed in thought before dipping your finger into the bowl and sucking it clean, making sure your lips were pouty as you did so, hoping to tease Daryl.

“Tomato.” He hummed noncommittally before reaching for the spoon. You swatted his hand away. “Nuh uh, you’re still healing, let me feed you.”

“I can feed myself,” he protested. You furrowed your brows and pouted at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth slightly, waiting for a bite. You smiled, scooping up some soup and spooning it into his mouth, making sure to lean forward as to give him a front row seat to the view down your shirt. You saw him avoid looking the first few times, but soon he was unable to resist taking a peek, and soon his peeking became staring (however, he pretended not to be whenever you looked back up at him).

“Enjoy the soup?” You asked once the bowl was mostly empty.

“S’alright,” he said as he nibbled on a cracker. You grabbed the bowl and drank the rest of the soup directly from it.

“Goddammit!” You cursed when a glob of soup fell onto your white t-shirt. But maybe it was a blessing in disguise, a chance to drive Daryl crazy. You grabbed a random t-shirt from one of the drawers and set it down before taking off the one you had, tossing it aside. You put the new one on as if you didn't just give him a strip show. His face was beet red and he hurried to adjust the blankets on his lap.

"Daryl, you okay? You look a little hot?"

"S'just w-warm in here."

"Let me jus' check your temperature." Instead of pressing the back of your hand to his forehead like before, you placed a gentle kiss to it.

"Feels a little warm." You stayed close to his face. If he moved, even a centimeter, his lips would touch yours, which is what you were hoping for. You glanced down at his lips, then up at his blue eyes, waiting for him to lean in. Despite all this teasing, you kinda wished he'd make a move, too. When he didn't, you pulled away, kissing him on the cheek instead.

"Get well soon, okay?" you said before taking the tray and leaving.

Daryl had been mentally punching himself since that night. He was an idiot for not kissing you when he had the chance. You were right there and so obviously waiting for him to do something, anything. But he couldn't. It'd been so long since he'd done anything with a woman, and even then, he didn't think he was any good. He was almost embarrassed about how inexperienced he was at his age. And someone as beautiful as you obviously would have some experience, so why waste time on him. He didn't want to be the cloud that dulled your shine.

He was now well enough to be released from Hershel’s care, but not well enough to resume about his usual ways. He’d normally disobey orders to take it easy, but when you made him promise to rest, he couldn’t break it. Subconsciously, he glanced over to your window. It wasn’t something he did often, considering you were usually the one watching him, but you were weighing heavily on his mind. He saw you up in your room, assuming you’d just woken up since it was almost noon. You were at your window, rummaging through your dresser -he knew where it was when he caught a glimpse of your room when he was inside the house. You held up a few shirts, probably deciding on which to wear, before pulling your pajama shirt off over your head. This was now the second, no, third time he’s gotten a perfect view of your tits. God they would feel so good in his hands, better yet, they’d look so good bouncing in unison with his thrusts as he fucked you into your mattress. Your teasing and mischievous ways only fueled his fantasies, causing his pants to tighten uncomfortably. The little wave you gave him from your window pulled him out of his own head. You, still topless, blew him a kiss before stepping out of frame.

His heart rate increased expeditiously as he nearly came in his pants. He couldn’t handle your teasing anymore, it was driving him crazy. He wanted you, not just the fantasies in his head and the company of his hand. He wanted to feel your walls squeeze his cock, hear your little moans as he pleasured you until your mind went numb, become one with you as you came in unison. He hurried into his tent and zipped it all the way up before collapsing onto his sleeping bag and hurrying to undo his pants. He liberated his aching cock from its confines and spat on his hand. He rubbed himself up and down, from base to tip, imagining it was your pretty mouth swallowing him whole. He ignored the sound of distant footsteps approaching his tent and instead chased his climax, which was coming embarrassingly fast.

“Daryl?” Your distant voice called, but all he heard in his mind was you moaning his name as your nails scratched down his back.

“You in here?” You asked. Daryl came in his hand, taking extra care to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his mouth. Reality set in when he saw your shadow standing outside his tent. He quickly wiped his hand off on the closest piece of fabric and shoved himself back in his pants.

“Need somethin’? He asked. He willed you not to notice his flushed, sweaty face.

“Watcha doin’ in there?” You asked, trying to peek into his tent. He moved to block your vision. He didn’t need you finding any trace of his earlier activity. Although, the little dress you had on had him ready to continue said activities.

“Nothin’.”

“Anyway, I came to check on you, make sure you’re takin’ it easy.”

“I am, was jus’ takin’ a nap,” he lied.

“Then why are you so red? And sweaty? Are you comin’ down with somethin’?!” You were starting to sound worried, making Daryl feel guilty. You reached up to feel his forehead and check for a fever, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch. If he felt your skin on his, in any capacity, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back anymore.

“Daryl, don’t be so stubborn!” You stepped closer only for him to step back again.

“Ain’ got no fever, girl! S’just hot out here!” He insisted.

“Don’ know that for sure. If it is one, it could mean one of your wounds is infected.”

“S’not a fever, ‘m sweaty from workin’ out.” You looked at him with an eyebrow skeptically raised and a hand on your hip. So much for takin’ a nap, you thought. Your eyes traveled down his body before meeting his again, this time with look more mischievous than usual in your eyes.

“Your fly’s down.” He quickly zipped it up, cursing himself for the dumb mistake.

“Anythin’ to do with your ‘work out’?”

“Dunno what yer gettin’ at.” His heart was beating faster in his chest, this time because of anxiety. You were onto him and he was about to get caught, humiliated under your scrutinizing gaze.

“Flushed, sweaty face.” You took a step closer and he took one back. “Dilated pupils.” Another step forward and another one back. “Unzipped fly.” He stepped back, not looking where he was going and stumbled onto the grassy ground. You sat down next to him. “Took forever to open your tent.” Your face split into a grin like the Cheshire Cat. “I’d say you were in there masturbatin’.” He stumbled over his words, looking for what to say in denial of your observation accusation. You pressed your pointer finger to his lips.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You leaned over him and slid your hand down his chest. “I touch myself, too.” His sparkling blue eyes went wide. “Usually thinkin’ ‘bout you when I do it.” You could feel his breathing change as you slid your hand further down his toned stomach. “Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?” His face was beet read and breathing shallow. You had him and he was more than ready, willing, and able to give in. He nodded his head, confirming your suspicions.

“Well, next time I’m on your mind,” you leaned down, lips ghosting his parted ones, “don’t just settle for your hand.” His lips finally met yours in a heated kiss. The built up tension from his days of pining and yours of teasing finally being released in that kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, slipping your tongue inside and drinking in all his pleasured groans.

“Wanna go back to my room?” You asked after pulling away.

“Nah, too far. Let’s go inside my tent.” You happily agreed and hurried inside, zipping it up behind Daryl. His mouth was back on yours in an instant, passionately exploring it with his tongue. He kissed his way down to your neck, roughly sucking marks.

“Oh, Daryl!” You shouted when he reached a certain spot on your neck, just beneath your ear. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Nervously, Daryl’s hand experimented with touching your body, his hands firmly gripping your hips. They were comfortable there and not daring enough to try anything else. He wanted to impress you, but at the same time he didn’t want you to notice that he had no clue what he was doing or what to do next, using the pirated porn and one night stands of his past as reference. Your hands grabbed his and placed them on your tits.

“Touch me, Daryl!” You whined. His hands groped and kneaded at the soft mounds of flesh hidden behind the thin fabric of your dress. He pulled down the front of your dress, freeing your tits then recapturing one by putting it in his mouth. His large hand toyed with the right while his mouth suckled the other. Your little wanton whimpers egged him on, giving him the confidence to try more. Your squirmed beneath him, squeezing your thighs together. His cock was also painfully hard, once again, and yearning to feel your warm walls around him. He pulled away and undid his pants before pulling out his cock, stroking it a few times. He looked up at you, but you looked less excited. Your eyes wouldn’t meet his and your arms were crossed over your chest, hiding yourself from him.

“Wha’s the matter, Sunshine?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue naturally. He was more than excited to sleep with you, but his worry regarding your sudden change outweighed that.

“N-nothin’. Jus’ put it in,” you said hoarsely.

“Nah, we ain’ doin’ nothin’ unless ya tell me wha’s wrong.” It sounded harsh, but it came from a place of genuine concern.

You sat up, readjusting your dress as you did so. “I-it’s jus’,” you nervously fiddled with the hem of your dress, something Daryl noticed you did a lot around him. “C-can we go slow? I haven’t done any of this stuff before,” you admitted.

“You a virgin?” He asked, astonished. You glumly nodded your head as if you were accepting defeat. In a twisted way, that relieved him a bit. Maybe since you’ve never had sex, you wouldn’t notice his own lack of experience. He put himself in his boxers before patting the spot in front of him. You crawled over to him and sat between his legs, your back against his chest. His lips found that spot on your neck again and began sucking there as his hand slid underneath your panties. He rubbed your clit in tight circles, causing your thighs to clamp shut over his hand.

“Jus’ relax,” he coaxed. You relaxed the best you could, but the pleasure kept you from staying still.

“F-faster,” you whimpered. He obeyed your command, rubbing you at a quicker pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder and you moaned in his ear. His other hand slipped beneath your panties and gathered your arousal on his finger, before he slowly slid it inside you, giving you time to adjust. He pumped it in and out of you as he continued to rub your clit. Your back arched off him as you moaned his name. He easily slipped in a second finger with how wet you were. Your velvety walls were so soft around his thick digits. He couldn’t wait to feel them with his cock. He moved his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting you in a spot that had you babbling nonsense. You squeezed his fingers with your soaking cunt as your first orgasm overtook your body.

“Daryl, I’m ready. Need ta feel ya inside me,” you slurred. He helped you lay down on your back and slid your panties off before pulling his painfully hard cock out again. Your legs rested over his thighs as he coated his member in your juices before lining it up with your entrance. He slid in as slowly as he could, making sure this would be as painless as it could be for you. You were so soft, slippery, and smooth around him, the best pussy he’s ever had. Once he was all the way in, he stopped to give you time to adjust. He leaned down and connected your lips in another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled held him close.

“You can move now.” His hands gripped your hips as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you, not wanting to give you too much too soon. His pleasured grunts mingled with your moans as he slid in and out of you.

“More, need more!” You whined. He adjusted your position, placing your legs over his broad shoulders. The new position allowed him to fill you even better. As he pounded in and out of you, the erotic sounds of damp skin slapping damp skin filled the tent, harmonizing with his and your sounds of pleasure. He lifted your dress over your head, getting rid of the barrier between you and him, and tossed it aside. His own fantasies came true as he watched your tits bounce in unison with his thrusts. He took them in his hands again, rolling your nipples between his finger and thumb, bringing you closer to your climax.

“Daryl I think I’ma-” Your sentence trailed off into a moan as you came around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm as his own approached. He pulled out of you just as he was about to finish and came all over your tits and stomach, like a firehose. You let out a satisfied hum, barely able to keep your eyes open. He grabbed one of his discarded shirts and cleaned you off before laying beside you in the sleeping bag. You rolled over to face him and hugged him close in your arms.

“You were the best first I coulda asked for,” you confessed. Your words soothed his worries that he didn’t perform well enough while also making his heart flutter.

“Guess all yer teasin’ paid off.” You giggled against his chest.

He pulled you closer to him and pulled you in for another kiss, a sweeter, gentler one this time. You dozed off in his comforting arms, wishing you’d never have to leave.

i proofread it, yaaay! anyway, thanks for reading! <3

i wrote this instead of doing my homework, mwahahahah >=]

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fluentmoviequoter · 23 days

Text

Good Luck Charm

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: At a Dodgers game, you meet Tim Bradford, who thinks you're a good luck charm for the Dodgers.

Warnings: pure fluff!

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

A/N: @bradleybeachbabe inspired me to write this (as well as Eric Winter posting about the Dodgers)! I hope you enjoy the game you're going to soon, Rachel!!!💙

Today’s date has been circled on your calendar for months. The Dodgers are playing at home in LA, and you got tickets behind home base. Since scoring the tickets, you’ve been counting down the moments, using this game to get you through tough days and long nights. Now that it’s finally here, you can forget about everything else for the evening and enjoy the game, hoping for another exciting evening like the tiebreaking two-run homer you watched on TV last week. Dressed in your favorite Dodgers shirt, you leave for Dodgers Stadium happier than you’ve been in weeks. Something in the Los Angeles air makes you think it will be a great night.

“Lucy, if I had an extra ticket, I’d sell it,” Tim sighs as he parks at Dodgers Stadium. “If you want to be at this game so badly, ask Thorsen. If anyone can get you a last-minute ticket, it’s him.”

“But he’s already at the game,” Lucy laments over the phone.

“So am I!”

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

“How is that-“ Tim stops and shakes his head. “Lucy, I hope you can figure something out. If not, I’ll tell you all about the game at work.”

“Ugh, you’re such a man.”

“Thanks. Bye.”

Tim ends the call before Lucy can explain that she did not mean that as a compliment. It’s been a tough week at the Mid-Wilshire station, and Tim wants to watch a good game, cheer for his team, and unwind.

Tim smiles as he makes his way to his seat: an unexpected but highly appreciated upgrade to home base. Coming into Dodgers Stadium feels like coming home, and Tim thinks tonight will be a good game. At least until he sees that the seat beside him, which he expected to be empty, is occupied by a woman scrolling on her phone rather than enjoying the pre-game activities. He ignores his disappointment at being in the section with a disinterested neighbor as he watches warmups.

You look up from the detailed roster file you keep on your phone. Gavin Lux, an infielder who is a left-hand batter and right-hand thrower, is wearing his glove on his right hand for warmups. As you scroll through your newest notes, glancing up at the team every few swipes, someone sits beside you.

“Left, right,” you murmur to yourself.

“Excuse me?” the man asks.

You lift your gaze from your phone, then freeze when you see the attractive man occupying the seat to your right.

“Sorry, I’m talking to myself. Lux is just… never mind, sorry.”

As you turn back toward the field, he asks, “Lux is?”

“He’s warming up with his glove on his throwing hand.”

The man looks out into the field, locates Lux, and nods. “He is. Any idea why?”

You shake your head. “I thought maybe I was remembering his stats wrong, but I double-checked and he’s warming up opposite.”

“Interesting. Think we can win with him off his game?”

Pursing your lips, you shrug. “I don’t think he’s the player that makes or breaks a game. Unless he tries to bat right-handed, we should be okay.”

“I’m Tim,” he introduces, offering his hand.

You shake his hand as you tell him your name, surprised by how he holds your hand in his just a moment longer than is usually acceptable. You don’t mind, especially when he smiles and asks if you’ve noticed anything else.

“Is this your usual seat?” you inquire after a few minutes of discussing the players and their techniques.

“No, my season pass gets me over first base,” Tim answers. “You?”

“One-night only. I’d love to get a season pass someday.”

“If we win tonight, they should give you one on principle.”

You laugh as you ask, “Why?”

“If we win tonight after that tenth inning save last week, with our infielders off their game, and you just happen to be in the crowd? You’d have to be good luck.”

“Maybe it’s just a good day,” you counter softly.

Tim smiles as he agrees, “Maybe.”

“Stop letting the ball play you!” someone behind you yells. “This is why they should have left you in the minors!”

You stifle a laugh at their enthusiasm but agree with them. Tim sighs beside you and checks the score.

“Just one can of corn, is that too much to ask?” Tim grumbles.

“Wow,” you exclaim. “You really just used that term.”

“You disagree?”

“Not at all, just haven’t heard someone younger than Babe Ruth call it that.”

“Then, what do we do? We’re going to lose at this rate.”

You shrug and offer, “Guess I’m not very good luck, after all.”

Tim wants to disagree but decides that it’s not his place. If the Dodgers win, then he’ll tell you that he’s impressed by you, drawn to you, but otherwise, you’ll go your separate ways, never to see one another again.

“I don’t want to watch this, Tim,” you say with a pout.

The Dodgers are tied in the bottom of the ninth in a concerning parallel to their previous game. You don’t trust them to get the ball where it needs to be to win, not after their lackluster performance in the first few innings.

“Wish them luck,” Tim encourages, standing beside you as the crowd roars. “C’mon, give into the superstition once. What’s the worst that happens?”

“We lose, and my night of relaxation becomes me wondering if you put a curse of the team by saying good luck in these sacred walls.”

“I never thought I’d be the one to say this, but it’s a baseball game. It’s not that serious.”

You try to ignore Tim, but the smile on his face is too hard to look away from. To appease him and partially because you love hearing him say you are good luck, you whisper a wish of good luck, boys through the net separating you from foul balls.

And, somehow, between when you speak and when the stadium silences, Mookie Betts hits a homerun that echoes throughout Los Angeles, and the Dodgers perform another walk-off.

“You did it!” Tim yells as the crowd erupts into cheers.

He pulls you into his arms, completely forgetting his prior hesitance to tell you how much you affected him, and you throw your arms over his shoulders as he spins you. When your feet are on the ground again, you cup Tim’s jaw and smile.

“We won!” you cheer as fireworks boom overhead.

“You really are good luck,” Tim replies.

“Maybe you’re the good luck."

Tim shakes his head and leans closer to you. The stadium around you is completely forgotten, entirely focused on the man before you. His hands are on your waist, yours are framing his face, and you can’t wait to hear what he says next.

“Will you go out with me? I think we could both use some more good luck,” he proposes.

Your smile widens as you nod. “I’d love to.”

Tim pulls you against his side, his arm warm and steady over your shoulders as you cheer for your home team and yourself.

Bonus:

“So, how was the game, Tim?” Lucy asks before roll call.

“It was great, after we caught up, at least,” Tim answers. “Did you watch it?”

“Yeah, Aaron pulled through and got me a ticket. Over the outfield but still better than anything I could’ve gotten on my own.”

Tim nods, but she doesn’t move out of the doorway so he can walk inside.

“What?” he asks.

“I saw something else at the game. Someone made it onto the jumbotron,” Lucy sing-songs. “You’re trending on ClipTok. Everyone’s talking about the mystery couple who celebrated the win.”

Tim narrows his gaze at Lucy, who shrugs and invites him to check for himself before she enters the roll call room. He pulls his phone from his pocket, surprised to see a text from you.

We’re trending. I don’t know if I should be more upset by all the people shamelessly looking for us or that they’re calling you ‘gorgeous’ and I’m ‘that girl hugging him.’

Tim rolls his eyes and answers:

Wait until they find out why we won.

You don’t acknowledge the implication that he’ll tell someone (Lucy, who will undoubtedly put it on ClipTok); instead, you tell him you’re looking forward to dinner tonight. What was supposed to be a relaxing evening at a baseball game for you and Tim turned into something so much more. If that’s not good luck, you don’t know what is.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x fem!reader #the rookie #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

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uranometrias · 4 months

Text

my love mine all mine , aaron hotchner

this is incredibly self indulgent. i wrote this for myself, because my cat passed away today && i have no idea how to grieve correctly. but i've always been able to express myself the best through writing, so here i am trying to do so.

basically reader loses her kitten && hotch is there to comfort her while she grieves. reader is a doctor && gets her nails painted. mentions of sleeping in a scarf and braids (but this can apply to any race <3) hotch is pretty flirty. he also had a dog that died when he was younger (idk) ... i'm still getting used to writing him (but he's been rotting my brain) so hotch girlies please be sweet to me, i'm trying.

"Have you decided what you want me to grab on the way?" You feel giddy, eyes beaming vibrantly as you unlock your front door. Aaron was on the other line, he'd been looking forward to spending the evening with you for the past two weeks. Your jobs often sent you in separate directions, with him following cases cross country, and you spending nearly twenty hours a day working at Inova Fairfax Medical Campus. The commute was nearly an hour from Quantico, which made it difficult for your schedules to coincide the way you hoped.

Today though was an exception. He'd just gotten back from a case, a successful one, and you'd been lucky enough to finally get two days off. You couldn't contain your excitement when you'd finally managed to get Aaron on the phone, and with Jack staying at Jessica's for another night, it seemed everything was working out in your favor. You still had no idea what you were in the mood to eat, despite having ample time to figure it out. "I dunno." you mutter, and you drop your keys into the basket just to the left of the front door.

"Well honey, you've gotta give me something." Aaron chuckles, and his voices makes you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. "I'm sure you haven't anything at all today." and it doesn't take a rocket science to know he's absolutely correct. Your stomach grumbles audibly, and you cringe, the sound a dead giveaway of your poor eating habits. "Do you need a bit more time to think about it?" he asks, and you're nodding your head, despite the fact that he can't see you. Your focus is split, eyes darting around your place in search of Piper.

Piper was your five year old tabby, the most special companion that you'd cared for since she was a newborn. Usually she'd be making her way to your front door, nudging her head against your shins, meowing her head off as some form of reprimand for being gone too long. Her absence was unusual, but you'd noticed she'd been sleeping a touch longer in the recent months. You'd taken her to the vet and they'd written off any life threatening illnesses. Perhaps she was jus becoming a lazy cat they had said.

"What'd you eat yesterday?" you ask, and you shrug off your coat next, hanging it in the closet as you slip off your cork-leather clogs. You admire your pedicure, French-tips gleaming back at you as your feet hit the cherry laminate flooring. You imagined that he'd hardly been able to eat well while out on a case, Aaron (and his team) had a horrible habit of neglecting their own health and wellness for the sake of cracking the case. You'd call him out on it, but it'd feel to hypocritical with the way you gave most of your life to the hospital.

"Four cups of coffee." and he sounds sheepish as he replies, he'd been running himself ragged with this last particular case. He couldn't leave the precinct until he was convinced he'd made a dent in the investigation. He could imagine your disappointed pout, but he was doing his best, or at least trying his best. "But, Dave made sure that I got something this morning before we got on the jet." and it's not like he has to explain himself to you, you'd never berate him. He believed it was just a side effect of falling for you.

"Four cups?" you gasp, head already shaking. "You're going to turn into a cup of coffee if you keep up with habits like those." you scold. "You'll have to double your water intake, you could seriously dehydrate yourself that way." you say with a quiet huff. You round the corner of the foyer, heading for the kitchen. "Are you feeling alright?" your tone grows a bit softer, "Four cups means you were really absorbed in the case. Everything okay?" you tread lightly. You weren't quite sure how he felt about you asking about his job.

"As far as endings go, I'd say it was better than most." he replies thoughtfully, clearly unfazed by your desire to probe. That makes you smile a bit, the obviousness of his trust for you. "We minimized the amount of deaths, the unsub was taken into custody... the team worked really hard." he proceeds, and you find yourself grinning. "But, I will do a better job of taking care of myself. You'd be a good nurse, but I can imagine a few better scenarios for you to take care of me."

You smile despite the fact it makes your heart stutter step. You were still getting used to him growing more confident in this way, but you weren't complaining in the slightest. "I'd be a great nurse." you correct him delicately, "I'd enjoy taking care of you in any way though." and you bet he can hear your shyness through the phone. Your relationship with Aaron still felt fairly new, you'd been seeing one another for going on seven months, but you knew you loved him.

Even if you hadn't managed to say it just yet.

"Look at that, another thing we have in common." he exhales, and you want him to hurry up and get to you. You hadn't seen him in so long, and despite the fact you were willing to mount him on sight, you just wanted to enjoy being in the same place for once. "How are you? Did you have a good day?" and you like the way he's so attentive, how he seems to genuinely care about what you had to say.

"It was great." you insist, and you've poured yourself a glass of water, ice tinkling as you scanned the dining room for any sign of Piper. Still nothing, weird. "I went to the bookstore a bit earlier, got a few novels for my book shelf." you list. "I got my nails done, and I got a facial. It was so relaxing I wound up falling asleep on the table." and you chuckle a bit at the memory. "Piper and I went on a drive before lunch, she's so spoiled." you add, but you're still scouring the space.

"Drafted up my budget for the month, my new schedule came in," you exhale tiredly at the thought. "Picked up my scrubs from the dry cleaners, I did a grocery run, and went to see the flower exhibit near the Farmer's Market. I got this really incredible soft-pretzel croissant." you sigh dreamily at the memory. "And now I'm home, and waiting for you." you complete, and you lean forward, arms resting against the countertop. "It was a really nice day. I thought I wouldn't know what to do without work, but I'd nearly forgotten what it feels like to be off."

Aaron's silent, but not because he's disinterested in your ramblings. He finds them endearing, and oftentimes had to remind himself that you, much like Jack, needed verbal response in order to feel heard. "I missed you." and it's not quite what he was aiming to say, but it's what comes out. It's true, it had been a while since he'd seen you in person, and with the way your schedules overlapped, he'd hardly been able to get much conversation out of you apart from quick check-ins in between patients and breaks in BAU cases.

You let out a quiet puff of air, it's not quite a sigh nor an exhale. Your lips curve upwards, and you wonder if there's a record out there for most smiles achieved in a single phone call. "You've got no idea how happy that makes me." you reply, and you inhale deep. "I missed you too, hurry up and get over here." you press, and you replay the sound of his responding laugh over in your mind. You don't think you could be more lovesick, but it's a more than welcomed feeling. "As far as dinner, why don't I just cook something?" you offer with a shrug.

"Do you want to?" and Aaron's got this weird thing about him where he's still getting used to the fact that you want to do certain things for him. You go over it a lot, reminding him that you'd love nothing more than to spoil him as much as he spoils you. He's still a bit hesitant, but you don't mind fighting the good fight until he relented. His hands tighten just slightly on the steering wheel, and his leg jumps as he awaits your response. He knows, or better put, he has an idea of what you'll say. He still wants to hear it either way.

"We take care of each other, mon amour." You coo, and he feels that familiar rush of affection towards you. "It'll be fun." you add, and then you're sighing audibly. "I just really can't wait to see you. I don't want to wait any longer than I need to." you express, and Aaron understands. He'd been restless on the jet, Dave and Emily seemed to zero in on his jitters, he was thankful they had enough couth to keep it to themselves. All he received was a knowing smirk from Rossi as he made a beeline for the tarmac the second the jet landed.

"I'll be there soon." he promises, and you grow giddier. "I-" and he wants to cross the line, mutter three worded phrase that would change everything. He'd been learning to be more bold, to focus on the things he could control, and appreciate those things. "I love you." he doesn't have time to think about the repercussions, because it's out, and there's a strong sense of relief that washes over him. You are surprised, but elated. The excitement his words bring you is hard to diminish.

"I love you too." and it comes out as easy as breathing. Probably because you mean it with all of your heart. "I'll see you soon, Mr. Hotchner." you promise, and he's chuckling at your sudden formality, likely a side effect of your newfound nerves at the huge step you'd both taken in your relationship.

"See you soon." you don't bring the phone from your ear until you hear the faint click of the call ending. You exhale shakily, mind running at a mile a minute as your heart seems to double in size. Still, you find this moment is short lived- mind once again on the eerie silence in your apartment. You place your glass down on the counter, coaster be damned as you make your way past the dining room and towards the living room. Sometimes you'd find Piper curled up on the couch, quiet purrs escaping her as she slept contently.

"Piper!" you coo, surprised when you note that she's nowhere to be found. You know that she wasn't outside, you'd made sure before leaving back out that she was comfortable in the house. You follow the layout of your place, the archway that led from the living room back to the foyer is the route you take, heading towards your bedroom as you continuously call for the cat. "Piper, where are you, pretty girl?" you enter your room, hopeful that you'll find her there.

You spot her little paw peeking out of her hideaway and instantly relax. "Oh Piper, you scared me." you let out a shaky sort of giggle as you fully enter your bedroom, feet brushing over the comforting carpet. You kneel just in front of the hideaway, reaching out to pet her. It takes you a few moments to make peace with the fact that she's not rousing. You swallow thickly, a lump growing in your throat as you wiggle her paw. She doesn't move, just as limp as before.

"Piper?" you feel the way your throat constricts, eyes immediately wanting to brim with tears, as you grow frantic. "Oh, please no-" you exclaim, head shaking as you feel a shudder rack through you. You're gentle as you maneuver around the hideaway, hands looping around her small body as you move to pull her out. She's limp, not even the act of you lifting her up enough to make her move. Your glow feels like it's diminished almost instantly, a dark cloud setting in over your head. It seemed a bit silly, panicked over the loss of a cat.

But she was yours, like a daughter to you in the way you cared for her, and made her apart of your routine. She was special, and despite the reputation cats gained for being standoffish and unable to understand human love, you knew that to be wrong. Piper was sweet, a loving cat that curled up beside you every night and followed you like a second shadow. She'd play games of tag with you, chasing you around your apartment as you squealed and screamed for your life.

"Please, please, no-" you're shedding real tears now, they're slipping down your cheeks in a constant succession. "Piper, please wake up!" it's silly, probably. Rocking back and forth with a dead cat in your hand hoping that sheer adoration will be enough to turn back the hands of time. It's certainly not, and the reality crushes you. The first sob is choked, almost like you're holding yourself back, not letting your feelings take full affect. You hadn't prepared yourself at all.

You didn't know what to do.

You think that's when the first swell of sobs begins. They're more ugly wails than anything else, the loud sound echoing through the space in front of you as your arms lower, Piper's body leaning against you as you continued to let your tears flow freely. Your chest tightens, constricting every couple of seconds like you'd suddenly developed chronic heartburn. The pain is a violent assassin, the air around you feeling tight. You think you may be choking on all that you're feeling.

You hate the part of your brain that was constantly in 'Doctor Mode', the side that reminded you that despite your grief, handling a deceased animal like this was a surefire way to get sick. Her body wouldn't start to decompose for at least another day, but you had no real way of knowing just how long she'd actually been dead. You don't move though, until at least your sobs have waned, you know it's not the end of them, but it's a reprieve just for a moment.

You slowly climb to your feet, still clutching Piper as your eyes whip around your bedroom. Your eyes land on her carrier, and the image makes you want to cry all over again. You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to take in a deep breath. It doesn't help. Still, your feet lead you over to the carrier, where you're gently placing Piper. Her vet was only eight minutes up the street, and maybe your ability to dispose of her so quickly was precisely why this was happening to you.

Guilt was loud, too loud. It almost knocked you to your knees as you imagined Piper's fear whilst you were gone. Was she sick? How long had she been? Why hadn't you noticed? Why did you leave her alone? Why weren't you there? You let her down. You had let her down.

You want to curl into a ball, hide under the blankets and cry until you passed out. But, she deserved better. She deserved to not be lugged around like she was some prop, she needed a proper place to rest. Once her carrier is zipped up, you're picking it up by the handles, using your other hand to swipe at the tears still trying to fall. You take the route you'd walked not ten minutes prior, slipping your shoes back on, and grabbing hold of your keys. Aaron still had another forty minutes or so in his drive, you hoped it went by quickly.

You don't think you ever needed him more than now.

────────────────────────

The sobs returned the second you'd walked past the threshold of your house. You sluggishly made your way back to your bedroom. It felt much lonelier now, the house feeling much too big for just you. You think that makes you cry even harder. You're covering your mouth with your hand, hoping that it would be enough to mask the sound of your bawling. You doubt that it does, but you can't do much else. You don't want to go to sleep, you don't want to do anything.

You begin berating your behavior once more in your head, replaying all the ways you'd been a shitty caretaker even though you know it's a bad idea. Your leg shakes under your comforter, the blanket squished underneath your body as you hid your face beneath the blazing heat of your huge blanket. You don't even realize how long you've spent in this space of self-loathing and bitter tears, until you hear the front door's lock shifting out of place. Aaron was here.

"Y/N, sweetheart?" and you want to run to him more than anything. You can't though, because you don't want him to think you're a failure. So you stay put, and you cry a bit more, sniffles growing more audible as you're forced to choke back angry sobs. It doesn't take long for him to make his way towards where you are, and you don't know what he'll say when he finds you looking a mess. You know your mascara has given you racoon eyes, and in your grief, you'd failed to tie a scarf around your head. Your braids would look messy soon.

"Y/N?" and his voice is so soft, soothing, everything you don't deserve now. Your hand clutches a fistful of your shirt, right where your heart rests. "Are you in here, honey?" and you sniffle, an answer all on its own. You barely hear his footsteps, but you feel it when the bed dips just slightly, and you feel it when he gently pulls at your blanket. When he's pulled it back, he's met with the sight of your tear-streaked cheeks. Your nose was runny and raw, and your lip was quivering. It didn't take a profiler to know that you'd been crying, and he frowns.

"Are you alright?" he questions, and his hand reaches out to brush against your cheek and neck, almost like he was checking your temperature. "You've been crying?" and he examines you subtly for any signs of assault or struggle. "Did something happen?" and he knows he keeps asking questions, but he's getting worried.

"P-" and a sob racks through you, your entire body curling in on itself. Your hand is pressing against your mouth again, and your shoulders shake as you began to cry once more. "Piper she-" and your head shakes, hand clenching and unclenching against your shirt. Aaron's eyes dance around your room, and his eyebrows push inwards. He was worried, but determined to be extremely delicate with you, namely by being patient as you got out what you needed to tell him. "Piper's dead." you finally say, shoulders sagging as you weep.

Aaron's examining your face, which gives you a front row seat of the way his face is eclipsed with compassion. "Oh, honey..." his lips pull downwards into a frown, and you know, of course you know it's awkward. What do you realistically say to a person that loses their cat? It's not like any amount of conversation would bring her back. "I'm so sorry...." and usually it sounds empty when anyone offers condolences, but like with most things, Aaron is an exception. "Are you okay? Can you tell me what happened?" he pleads.

And you know that he knows that you're not okay. It's meant to be a stupid question, the obvious one. But you also know that he's giving you the chance to vent, to articulate everything you feel with no judgement. It makes you want to curl into him, and stay wrapped up in his arms until neither of you had any idea where one ended and the other began. "I just-" you have to take a moment to gather yourself, hiccupping blubbers escaping you. "I came home, and I-" your voice cracks harshly. "She was just gone. I don't-" you shake your head.

"I don't know what happened." you express, and Aaron's sympathetic, and he hates seeing you like this. Every time you cry it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand upright. He supposed that came with loving you, an innate desire to protect you, and keep the bad things out. He'd only ever seen you in this state a handful of times, mostly when things went wrong at the hospital and you lost a patient. He had to get to you before you started blaming yourself for something that completely out of your control.

He didn't know much, but he did know your love for Piper, and how deep it ran. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that you'd never do something to put her in harm's way, you'd never do anything to hurt her. And he wants to pull you into his arms and tell you everything will be alright, he wants to be there to anchor you down. To ground you in the midst of all these swimming and overwhelming emotions trying to fight for the upper hand. He wanted to be there for you.

"Is there anything that you need from me?" he asks gently, grief was harsh, it came in ripples and waves. It was gut-punching, it could be loud and then silent. Sneaky and then outright. It was a process, and whether anyone else thought so, if you needed to grieve the life of your pet, you should. Who was he to ever get in the way? He's gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek, your tears splattering as you kept the duvet pulled up to your chin, as you stared him down. He figured you must have been deep in thought.

It takes a moment for you to reply, and he's fine with the silence. You're tears haven't stopped, but they've grown more quiet. Silent tears that pool and trickle down his wrist and onto the blanket. You soon take in a shaky puff of air as you sit up. Aaron's patient as ever, watching as you pull your legs from underneath the blanket, crawling until you were sitting on his lap. There's no sexual undertone to your movements, you don't want to fool around, you just want to be close.

Your head rests against him, eyes closing as his arms envelop you. "Can you just stay with me?" you ask, and he's already nodding his head. You both knew it was an impossible request. At any moment you could get paged, or he could get a call about a new case. The world didn't stop all because you were grieving, but for one second you both could pretend. He could stay right here with you, and you could love him, and not feel so overwhelmed by all your sadness.

"I'm not going anywhere." he mutters, and he's reaching for your hand. His easily dwarfs your own, but it's still just as comfortable, letting your palms press against his own. "I have never lost a cat before-" and he's treading lightly, wanting more than anything to help you and not harm you. "But I did lose a pet when I was younger." he expresses, and your interest is peaked, just slightly.

"What type of pet?" you ask faintly, and you're squeezing his hand in your own. He knows that it's comforting you so he says nothing about the tight pinch of his fingers pressing together.

"He was a golden retriever actually." Aaron replies, "Nothing was particularly wrong with him. He was fed well, taken care of, treated like one of the family..." he proceeds, and you involuntarily hold your breath as you listen. "But one day he just... he just went." Hotch proceeds, "And when you're a little kid that's not in the best environment, a staple like a pet dog is important. Losing him was like losing the only bit of sanity I could cling to. Does that make sense?"

Your head nods, and you squeeze his hand again to show him you care. "And surprisingly enough, I found myself crying over it. Mourning this dog, an animal that was part of the family, but of course, was not my family member." he continues, and his chin rests on the top of your head. "The point is, him being a dog didn't make it hurt any less when he left. It's okay to be upset about Piper, she was important to you, special even." he whispers. "And you did a great job giving her all the love you possibly could." his eyes close then.

"I need you to know that it wasn't your fault. And keeping yourself up with thoughts of 'what ifs'." it's his turn to squeeze your hand this time. "And those moments where you... didn't want to play, or wanted to be left alone are not what she remembered when she passed on." he insists, and he won't take any arguments on the matter. "You gave her five amazing years, and whether science backs it up or not, she knew how much you loved her." he insists. "You might not believe it today, but I hope that you do in time." and he kisses your forehead.

It's butterfly inducing, and makes you cling all the more to him. "You're not by yourself." he adds, and you're glad to know it. You peel back, eyes locking with his, and they're glassy. You hate seeing such a grief-stricken look on his face, at your sake no less. It makes you lean forward and kiss him, in the hopes you'd manage to kiss it away. He kisses back instantly, and you're still sad, you probably will be for a long while, but you don't feel as lonely as you did an hour ago.

"I love you." you mumble the second you've pulled back, and this time there's no phone. His eyes are swirling with so many thoughts and feelings of his own, but you need him to know you mean it, and likely always will. You couldn't imagine anyone else being here with you like this now, nobody else that would care enough to grieve with you. He gives you a half smile, and kisses you once more, a much deeper kiss that makes you lightheaded and dizzy. Of course he had that effect.

"I love you too." and you're happy that he hasn't left you hanging. Your fingers trace his collarbones and cheeks, moving to cup his face with your right hand. You kiss him again, this time just long enough to get the message across. When you pull back, your head is finding it's place back on his chest, and his arms move up and down, rubbing gentle circles against your back, as he cranes his neck to kiss your head. It makes your stomach flutter, but it makes you want to cry too.

He leaves three gentle pecks on the top of your head, moving to kiss your cheek, before he's looping his arms around your waist with a palpable amount of admiration. He plants a sweet kiss on your shoulder, and mimic this action by offering him a kiss of your own. "Thank you." you exhale, and you mean it so wholeheartedly.

"You don't need to thank me, Y/N. We take care of each other, mon amour, remember?" and he recites your earlier words back to you. It makes you cling to him much tighter, tears returning to your lashline as Aaron pulls you even closer to him. "If you need to cry a little bit more, go right ahead. I'm right here." so you do.

Grief was a lot, it could be paralyzing, debilitating, and outright traumatic, but you knew even if it didn't feel that way now, in time you'd be okay. Part of you felt like you had Aaron to thank for that.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotcher fluff #aaron hotchner angst #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch #hotch x reader

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vixialuvs · 7 months

Note

Hello, I would like to make a request for the submissive Soobin who feels needy in the early morning and the rest is up to your imagination > < I apologize in advance if something is written wrong or is not clear, it is because I am using the translator TT.

MORNING SEX !

୨୧ pairing - choi soobin x fem reader

୨୧ cw - smut, sub soobin, needy soobin, morning sex, vanilla, thigh fucking, kissing, marking (soobin receiving) soft!dom reader, pet names (baby, bunny, pretty boy), short fic

୨୧ a/n - don’t apologize for using translator love, it’s fine! also soobin morning sex mueheehehhe

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

the sun has barely peeked out from the horizon yet, no light shining through your windows, covered by sheer lace curtains that you and soobin picked out last time you went to ikea. they reminded him of you and he insisted on getting them.

you are having a peaceful slumber, holding soobin in your arms, despite his body being so much longer then yours. his face is buried in your breasts, nuzzling them in his sleep.

but, alas, the morning does not stay quiet, a soft, needy whimpering sounding out through the room. it’s slightly muffled but you can feel the vibrations of soobins voice against your chest and his cock grinding against your thigh.

you stir rather quickly, being a light sleeper, your eyes drifting downwards to the whiny boy sprawled over you, his hands beginning to slip under the waistband of your sleeping shorts.

you playfully swat his hand away and he freezes, realizing you’re awake. his grinding however, does not stop.

“y/nie.. i need you.”

his voice is so soft and sleepy, it’s adorable, causing you to coo at him and start petting his hair. you are next to speak, whispering your words against the top of his head.

“use your words.. what do you want?”

your voice has the slightest hint of teasing in it, causing his breath to pick up as he practically melts against you.

“can i fuck your thighs? please? i want you so bad, baby. i love you so much.. i’ll be a good boy. jus’ wanna cum..”

his begging makes the heat between your thighs unbearable as you nod, helping him pull off his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his huge dick. you adjust your position so he can comfortably push his cock between your thighs, letting out the loudest noises as you start kissing down his neck, leaving a trail of marks in your path.

“you’re mine baby. nobody else’s okay? you don’t fuck anyone else’s thighs like this, yeah? your my pretty boy?”

you let out a groan, gently biting his neck, which makes his moans crescendo once more.

“fuck, your doing so well bunny.”

you mumble against his neck, his pace slowly speeding up as he starts panting, his hands fondling with your breasts. you can tell he’s close to cumming, and a smirk forms on your lips. you squeeze your thighs around his cock, which instantly makes him cum all over them.

“thank you.. love you s’ much.. felt so good.”

he goes limp in your arms, pulling his cock out from between your thighs, gently grabbing a box of wipes from his nightstand to clean off your thighs and his cock. he massages your thigh slowly, giving you a soft kiss before he nuzzles his face into your neck and hugs you.

the sun has now turned the sky orange, slowly rising up above the mountains, the tiniest bit of light shining through your pretty curtains. but you don’t mind, and neither does soobin.

once more, the two of you drift off in each others arms, completely content.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@vixialuvs . thank you so much for reading ! do not plagiarize, steal or copy my work . reblogs appreciated !

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leennaan · 1 year

Text

Leah Williamson/ Coming Home

You were nervous. After working for the royal navy for now almost nine years you decided that you missed enough of important events in your wife’s and your family’s life. When you were first recruited at the age of 18 it was the best thing that could happen for you. You always wanted to step into your grandpas footsteps and you did.

You quickly climbed the ranks until you became captain just after you turned 23.

Your wife was esthetic when you told her.

You knew Leah since you both were just five years old.

You became best friends until she asked you to be her girlfriend on your 15th Birthday.

It was one of the happiest moments in your life.

After you asked her to marry you in the summer of 2016 you got married in a small setting after her season in 2017 both of you being just 20 but you were never more sure of something.

No one even knew you were together not even her teammates and you liked the secrecy it gave you a bit of a rush.

When you were told in 2020 you would be stationed in America for some years you knew it would be hard but you both managed the distance. One of the hardest things was not being able to be there with her when she captained England to the Euros win. But you were unbelievable proud of her.

When she raptured her ACL and you couldn’t be there for her it broke you.

So when you were told that you would have to stay over sea even longer you knew you couldn’t be apart from her anymore so you asked to be discharged.

That is what let you to this day.

Standing in a sold out emirates stadium at the semi finals of the champions league 2023/24.

You talked with Jonas and asked him to help you surprise Leah.

The players knew that a former navy captain would be honored but that was about all the information the players had.

After the players walked on the pitch, Leah captaining Arsenal and after the champions league hymn was played it was time.

You heard the Stadion speaker announce you so you walked out of the tunnel still in your uniform.

“And now before we start with the match we would like to honor former Royal Navy Captain Y/N Williamson for her service.”

Your eyes were only focused on Leah. She gasped as your name was announced and sunk to her knees as soon as she saw you walking out of the tunnel. You could see that a few tears had already escaped her eyes and you felt some of your own tears roll down you cheeks. Her teammates looking confused between you and her captain as you walked towards her.

Suddenly Leah jumped up and started running at full speed towards you, jumping in your arms once she reached you. You caught her and held her close, crying into her neck.

“ I can’t believe you’re here. I missed you so much! Please tell me that you’re here to stay.” She whispered into your ear. Still clinging to your body.

“I am here baby. I am home. I here to stay. I am not leaving you again.”

After you both had calmed down a bit you let her down, still holding her close.

And it you didn’t care that you were standing in the middle of a sold out emirates, four years without holding your love, without being able to hold her were just to long. So you captured her lips with your own.

The kiss was everything and more. You felt her shiver and smile into the kiss.

After what felt like a lifetime but wasn’t nearly long enough you pulled away. Breathing hard and looking at a smiling face.

“I can’t wait until after the match but now you have to what you do best. Win this match. I am so proud of you!” You said and she nodded, kissed you one last time before she went back to her team.

Once the game started you went to Leah’s family and did what you wished you could have done for the last four years supporting your wife at one of her most important matches of her career.

Arsenal won the game 3:1 and qualified for the champions league final.

This evening you didn’t move from Leah’s side. Together you told her teammates about how you got together and everything between. Just holding your girl in your arms.

Nothing could top this feeling.

You knew you did the right thing. Never before had you seen Leah so happy, not even after the Euros win.

Coming home was the best decision you ever made.

“I love you Leah Williamson.” You said to her when you were dancing together at the winning party.

“I love you to Y/N Williamson. Always.”

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader

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pinkaditty · 16 days

Text

Tokyo Debunker Headcanons

so. im insane LMFAOOOOOO but no seriously. im not even gonna elaborate. im posting these strictly as an interest check bc if anyone's interested ill keep posting them.

Body Type/Various Measurements Tokyo Debunker hcs:

FROSTHEIM ONLY (interest check!)

a/n: hihi as most of my consistent readers know, i am a biomed major and work in a med field. i love human anatomy. i couldn’t resist the urge to do this once i noticed that Lucas has a wider and taller frame than Kaito. it’s soso interesting i was just like “oh wait, lucas looks… larger than kaito?” and then i confirmed he was, his shoulders were broader and his waistline, albeit proportional, was wider. it’s so interesting. i had to. sorry!

cw: ??? hcs i guess! not trying 2 be insensitive but if u have an ed and seeing weights triggers u or something don't look at this post. i think that's it? oh also ts is not proofread i fear! i spat this out on paper and decided it was good 2 go!

MINORS DNI THESE HCS INCLUDE NSFW THINGS!! THANK YOU!!

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE READING HCS:

note that the measurements may be misleading: for example, a waistline that is several inches smaller than bust or hip does not imply an hourglass shape unless specified. smaller waistline is proportionate to larger bust and hip, provides “normal” rather than “hourglass”. waistline larger or in similar value to bust or hip also does not imply overweight unless specified. subject may have different body type (i.e. pear or triangular), which consists of a larger waistline while still appearing lean (used a body visualizer, so feel free to input the values into one to better see my vision!). i did use a bmi calculator for this, but it is important to note that while some may appear obese or overweight based on weight, these boys have been trained for combat and usually consist of high muscle composition, which weighs more in less quantities than fat. either that, or they’re just unusually tall with a higher body mass and are inevitably going to weigh more. as for penis length: as much as we all appreciate monster cocks, i wanted to make this as realistic as possible. in japan, the penis length is generally equivalent to 7.9% of the body height. most, if not all lengths here, are based off of the values calculated. for our sakes, though, i rounded up a little teehee!!!! and i will admit, some of them i increased a little bit to fit my specific interpretation of the characters (specifically, the tall ones; for example, Tohma landed at around 6in like Jin, but i gave him 7in to account for some diversity in endowment + i jus feel like he'd be longer LOL). girth and other proportions are based purely in my own speculation.

Jin Kamurai: Height is abt 6’2, so taller than average, but not super tall. Weight is abt 187 lbs or 84.8218 kg (not much muscle definition, but strong core and muscular arms needed to wield heavy sword), 40in underbust circumference, 30in waist, 42in hip. Triangular body type.

Excess notes: Upturned eyes, sharp nose, strongly defined cupid’s bow lips. Broad, unusually flexible shoulders. Hands are long and slender, wrists unusually small. Flatter than a wooden board in the back. Thighs and calves not very well-trained, but strong enough to give him a good base for combat. Penis length 6in, not particularly girthy or lengthy. Happy trail is present but almost invisible, silver hair against white skin relatively hard to spot. Keeps it hairy but does trim occasionally.

Tohma Ishibashi: Height is around 6’1.5, taller than average. Weight is around 185 lbs or 83.9146 kg (enough muscle definition to be skilled in combat and wield axe, that and generally large height explain larger weight), 39in underbust, 29in waist, 42in hip. Rectangular body type.

Excess notes: Straight almond eyes, long straight nose, regular cupid’s bow lips. Long neck, very pronounced collarbones. Palms especially wide, fingers long and slender. Does not have much of an ass to work with I fear. Similar to Jin in that calves and thighs aren’t well-trained, but good enough to provide a strong base for axe-swinging. Penis length 7in, more in length than girth. Slight curve to the right. Well trimmed, no happy trail.

Lucas Errant: Height is around 6’, taller than average, but not super tall. Weight is around 213 lbs or 96.6152 kg (large muscle definition despite being shorter, which is why he weighs more), 42in underbust, 30in waist, 46in hip. Hourglass body type.

Excess notes: I hc him to be mixed Jamaican/British + suffers from Acrofacial vitiligo (spots appear typically on face around openings, but in his case it appears on the back of his head which causes the lighter hair color there; has light spots on inner eye, under nose, and on hands, feet, and genital area). Wide, upturned eyes, small pronounced button nose, thicker lips with slight cupid’s bow. Broad shoulders. Hands thicker but wider, very heavy-handed. Has largest ass in Frostheim. Thighs and calves very well-trained, less likely to lose balance than Jin or Tohma during combat. Penis length 6.5in (used a different avg, as he’s not japanese but jamaican), thicker than usual, some varicose vein, slight left curvature. Likes to upkeep happy trail. Doesn’t trim often.

Kaito Fuji: Height is around 5’10, closer to average height. Weight is around 134 lbs or 60.7814 kg (not much muscle definition, gets minimal exercise, has defined core for archery’s sake), 34 in underbust, 28in waist, 36in hip. Rectangular body type.

Excess notes: Wide upturned cat-like eyes, sharp upturned nose, thin upper lip, bottom lip typical size. Long neck, pronounced bone structure (slightly visible spine). Hands are small and slender. Comparable to Jin in that he doesn’t have much of an ass, but isn’t quite as flat as Jin. Has more core strength than thigh or calf strength, but can establish an okay base for archery. Penis length is 5.5in, somewhat thick. Light happy trail and doesn’t grow much pubic hair.

i want u all 2 be honest with me... am i insane 4 doing this LMFAOAOAOAOAOOO

need 2 find a new roommate bc this one keeps egging me on like "ok u ate with these descriptions" like yes thank u hype man!!!! im gonna get full of myself if u keep saying this shit

anyways. i hope you all enjoyed! im honestly not expecting this 2 do numbers but if anyone wants me 2 continue then i will!! im also working on requests in the background so things may take longer to pump out, but i will do them! until next time, my loves!

#tokyo debunker smut #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #tkdb smut #tkdb #tdb #tokyo debunker jin #tokyo debunker tohma #tokyo debunker luca #tokyo debunker kaito #jin kamurai #tohma ishibashi #lucas errant #kaito fuji

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buckyshoneybunny · 6 days

Text

The White Wolf (Part 5)

Wolf/Alpha!Bucky + Wildlifephotographer!curvy!reader

W.C. 1564

Warnings- Cursing, fluff, allusions to smut??

A/N- I am so sorry this took so long!!! I didn’t know how I wanted to end it. Yes, this is the end of this series, I may write little drabbles and oneshots for these two on how their future goes. But between classes, no motivation, and being tired I just haven’t had much time to write. I was gonna do this last week but I had a mysterious 4-day long headache that even migraine medicine couldn’t get rid of. Anyway I hope you enjoy!!! Any mistakes are mine. More stories will be coming soon!!

Taglist- @blackbirdwitch22 @lesleurs @nelachu2423 @shadowzena43 @calwitch @laughterafter @sebastians-love @purplecolordeer

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Masterlist Series Masterlist

Over the next couple of weeks, you and Bucky discussed what your future would look like. You agreed to move in with him, as long as you could keep your job. He agreed begrudgingly.

Bucky had been out with Steve doing whatever it is they did during the day, when your phone pinged with a notification. Period one-week late.

Your blood ran cold. Were you, could you be, pregnant? A wave of nausea hits you. You and Bucky were still trying to settle into your new life together, you couldn’t possibly add a kid on top of that. Oh god, what would Bucky think?

You grab your phone and keys, you run out the door, hoping Bucky wouldn’t smell you and come running. You made your way to Wanda’s cabin and pounded on the door. She lets you in, asking what’s wrong.

“I think I might be pregnant,” you blurt out nervously.

Her eyes widen. “Wow um, have you taken a test?” You shake your head. She offers to do some magic thingy to see if you’re pregnant. You are.

“Oh god,” you groan and sit on her couch, face buried in your hands. “This can’t be happening.”

She giggles. “What are you worried about? Everything will be fine, Y/N.”

“Everything, Wanda! I’m still trying to come to terms with everything, I mean, I’m supposedly the mate to a half-man, half-werewolf! A month ago I didn’t even existed! And now I’m pregnant, this is ju-”

“Y/N, calm down.” She sits next to you and rub your arm. “I know this must be scary, finding out what you thought was just fiction to be real. But Bucky will be there for you, he won’t let you go through this alone.”

“But what if he gets bored of me? What if he’s not ready for this.” There’re tears in your eyes.

“You’re his destined mate, Y/N. And the fact that you are pregnant with his child? He’ll be over the moon.”

“But I’m not a werewolf, or an omega. Oh god, what will having a werewolf’s baby do to me?” You ask, panicked.

“It doesn’t matter, you’re his mate, he’d never abandon you. I don’t know what it will do to your body, I’ve read that the side effects could be worse or you could have crazy different symptoms then what you’d have with a normal pregnancy.” You look even more worried.

She thinks for a moment. “I haven’t tested it but I’ve been working on something.” She stands and walks to her desk. “If you and Bucky coat your teeth with this and claim each other, you should be able to feel the connection, and the more time goes on, the more your body will get omega features.”

She hands you the bottle and touches your neck, something zaps you.

“Ow! What the hell?” You ask, rubbing said spot.

“There, you have the start of a scent gland, it could take anywhere from a few hours to a few days to fully develop.” She snickers at the dirty look you send her.

“So....with the scent gland and this, potion? I’ll slowly become an omega.”

She nods. “Yes, but you won’t be a werewolf. Unfortunately, I haven’t found any magic that could turn into one.” You nod.

You chat with Wanda for a little while longer before heading home. When you see Bucky isn’t back yet you grab your wallet and head into town. You head to the local supermarket, you grab a little gift bag, a newborn onesie that says ‘I love my Daddy’, and some tissue paper. You also grab some chocolate, munching on it to help calm your nerves.

You get home and set the little bag up, then start on dinner. You use the fresh herbs and veggies from the pack garden, they have just about everything in there, even sugar canes!

You get the fireplace going and put on some soft music, hooking your phone up to the speakers Bucky installed when he learned you loved music.

Bucky trudges up the steps, his shoulders aching. He and the guys had been working on clearing land, they wanted to make their own shops and whatnot, to limit having to go into town. He leaves his muddy boots outside, not wanting to track it into the house.

He walks in and is hit with the scent of a home cooked meal and you. He sighs at the warmth the fireplace is giving off and smiles when he hears you humming to the music. He stands there and watches you for a moment before coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You jump but relax when you realize it’s him. He buries his face into your neck and freezes.

“Babydoll?” He asks, his voice gravelly.

You turn in his arms to face him. “Yes?” You ask nervously.

“What is this?” He cups the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing the spot in question.

“A scent gland, Wanda gave me it. It’s surprise 1 of 3.”

His face is unreadable for a moment before a groan rumbles through his chest and he leans down to nose at the scent gland. He nips it, causing you to shiver.

“Tell me,” he licks your ear before nibbling on it. “Are you one of the surprises?”

“No,” you giggle. “But I can be an add-on.”

He hums and presses his nose to your hairline, taking a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I love you,” he says softly.

At your whispered ‘I love you too’ he feels warmth spread through his chest. He nudges your nose with his.

“When will I get these other surprises?”

“After dinner.”

He hums and gives you a loving kiss. He showers while you finish dinner.

As you set the table, he comes out in those grey sweatpants you love so much hung low on his hips. His already half-hard cock visible, making it clear he has no underwear on. He’s shirtless, displaying those washboard abs you love so much.

You both eat dinner in silence, he can sense you’re nervous. You both clean the dishes, while he finishes wiping the counters down you grab the gift bag.

You sit on the couch and hand him the bag. He blindly reaches in and pulls out the potion first.

“What’s this?” His brows furrow in confusion.

“It’s a potion. Wanda said to both coat our teeth when we claim each other, it’ll help me feel the bond and feel it lock in place. I’d be one step closer to an actual omega and connected to you.”

His eyes shine with excitement and lust. “You’d want to be an omega?” You can hear the joy in his voice.

“Yeah,” you smile. “But I won’t become a werewolf.” He deflates a little but nods, the thought of running through the woods in y'all's wolf together running through his mind.

“What made you want to become an omega?”

“Well, I wanted to feel the connection that you’ll feel, feel even closer to you. Plus, it’ll also help my body with what’s to come.” He gives you a confused look and you nod to the bag. He pulls out the onesie. As he reads it, his heart stops and eyes widen.

“Babydoll....are you.... pregnant?”

You nod. “I know we haven’t been together long and we’re still adjusting. Bu-”

He cuts you off with a kiss. He leans his forehead against yours. “I’m going to be a dad?” His steel blue eyes sparkle with unshed tears.

You cup his stubbly cheeks. “You’re going to be a dad, Bucky,” you whisper. Your own eyes glisten with tears.

He laughs and hugs you. His heart swells with pride. You, his mate, is going to have his pups.

He makes love to you that night, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. He gushes excitedly to Steve the next day and rubs the news into Sams face. Everyone congratulates you over a barbeque. Bucky already has plans of how he wants to expand the cabin, add on for your future family. You’re already planning on how you want to decorate the nursery.

Seven months later.....

You sit in the rocking chair in your new nursery. You watch your husband with a fond smile as he puts the crib together, insisting he wanted to hand make everything. The pile of gifts from your baby shower sits in the corner, ready to be put away.

You can feel Bucky’s excitement, the permanent bite mark on both yours and Bucky’s neck sealing the bond. You rub your swollen belly, the ring on your finger shines in the sunlight that streams through the window.

You couldn’t wait to meet your baby girl, Winfred, Winnie for short, after Bucky’s mother. He talks about her all the time; you know he misses her and the fact you’re naming you guys first daughter after her means the world to him. You knew that’s what you wanted to name her the minute he said her name, he cried when you told him.

As you rock and listen to the music playing softly in the background, you think of how grateful you are you went into the forest, choosing to not listen to the locals warnings.

You may not know what the future hold next, but you do know one thing, you couldn’t wait to find out.

#bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #honeybunnywrites #marvel #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader

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happyandticklish · 3 months

Text

As You Wish

Notes: Publishing all the fics today! It's been a while since I've put my favorite little guys through a situation, so I have returned to torment Damien once more. In an AU where it's after everything went down but things turned out better for the two of them and they get to live out a happy life together ❤️

Summary: Mark and Damien hold a battle of wills where losing is the only way to get what you want.

“You’re not ticklish?”

“No.”

“Then how come you’re squirming?”

“I’m n—hmmehe n-not, look okay, can you just—”

“You completely are, there’s no point in lying.”

“Well, if I am, that’s not my fault, now is it?”

“So, you’re saying your movements are out of your control, then?”

“That’s is not what I’m saying, you’re just being difficult.”

“Mmm, difficult how?”

They had been at this for an hour now and Damien was seriously considering throwing in the towel if it went on any longer. Mark’s hands were skimming up and down his sides under his shirt, a touch that were supposably meant to be comforting but was anything but from Damien’s perspective. Soft lips pressed kiss after kiss after kiss into his neck, just barely brushing the skin in a manner that had him helplessly tensing up every time.

The kiss landed underneath his ear and he growled, squeezing his eyes shut. “Mark.”

“Damien. Something the matter?”

“You know damn well—”

“No, I don’t, because you have been very insistent that you are fine and that this is not bothering you whatsoever.” He was smug. Damien could hear it in his voice and he wanted to punch him. He wanted to turn around and kiss him. He wanted him to dig his fingers in just a little harder. “Which we both know is a lie, but as the game goes, you don’t get what you want till you admit it.”

It was a stupid game, largely because it played off of Damien’s least favorite activity—not getting what he wanted. Not for lack of trying, mind you. Every ounce of desire he had was going into Mark, making him want to dig his fingers in, making him crave Damien’s laughter. And, sometimes, it worked. Sometimes, the nails dragging up his sides would scribble over his ribs in an almost crazed frenzy and Damien would choke and fall back into his arms with a rush of relief. Then, in the next moment, Mark would recover, looking a bit flushed himself, and go back to his teasing game. He was barely holding on, but so was Damien, and so it all came down to who broke first.

Damien bit his lip as Mark teased skittering touches over his stomach, his skin jumping and twitching under his hands. Every part of him wanted to squirm away or at the very least grab Mark's hands, but he couldn’t risk that ending this and leaving him entirely unsatisfied for the night. “C’mon, Mark, I know you can feel it, so why don’t you just do it already.”

“Feel what, Damien?” He couldn’t see it with his eyes closed, but he could practically feel Mark’s raised eyebrow. “What desire are you projecting tonight? Enlighten me.”

Damien sucked in a shuddering breath. “Fuck you.”

Fail once, try again. Fail seventeen thousand times, try again anyway because it has to work eventually. He closed his eyes, feeling around for the tether in Mark’s mind. He focused on his psyche, grabbing onto his consciousness and molding it between his fingers. Damien let out a soft whine of effort, barely perceivable if you weren’t listening for it. He felt Mark tense behind him and grinned in delight when the scribbly touches turned to squeezes pinching gently at his hip and up his sides.

“Oh, ho, you are—” The squeeze tightened until Damien nearly fell out of his lap with a bark of laughter. “This is entirely cheating. And dangerous. You have no idea what I want to do with you—do to you.”

Damien squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling shakily. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Don’t let him see how horrendously giddy the last couple seconds made you. “Please. You’re at my mercy, don’t you remember? This night will go however I say it will go.”

The teasing touches had returned to just that, sliding up his ribs carefully and forcing an involuntary shudder as they edged too close to the top. “Right, well, right now your mercy wants you to be at my mercy, so maybe you should ease up on your desire just a bit so I don’t actually kill you.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?”

“I mean it, Damien.” Damien could hear the serious edge in his voice—or rather how hard he was trying to keep a serious edge in his voice. It was clear that desire and excitement were winning out over any kind of concern for Damien’s wellbeing. “I don’t think you understand the full breadth of your own powers sometimes. Not to mention the fact that I—well. It’s not a desire that I wouldn’t already be feeling. It’s possible I’d never stop at this rate.”

“I’d stop you if you went too far.”

“Would you?”

Would he? Damien kept his mouth shut, mostly because he himself didn’t know the answer to that question. Mostly because he couldn’t imagine something like this ever going too far. Every time the teasing touches ended, every time Mark finally let him go for the night, every time the laughter died down on his lips, Damien couldn’t help but yearn for more. He had learned to get some of that yearning under control for fear of not wanting to overwhelm Mark with it, but it thrummed underneath his skin in a wild frenzy of want that one day would boil over and consume them both.

Tonight could be that night.

Mark had finally let go of his sides, gaining enough control to move again without destroying the other man. He stayed on the safe side with pleasant touches this time, scratching his back in a manner hard enough to only feel good. It was a decent strategy, as it threw Damien’s wants into disarray. It’s hard to want someone to do something to you when it comes at the price of a different pleasure ending. He hummed reluctantly, leaning his head forward on Mark’s shoulder. Strands of his hair clung to his forehead. They were both sweaty, not from any physical exertion per se, but from the mental strain of holding onto their collective willpowers—in Damien’s case, trying to hold onto both of theirs.

Mark glanced down at the mop of hair disguising the man he was currently tormenting. “You okay?”

“Feels good.”

Mark smiled. He dragged his nails in sharp loops down his back, causing Damien to shudder. And then his smile tensed and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Goddamnit. You’re good. It’s specific tonight, too. The hips, huh?”

Damien’s heart leapt. A giddy smile tugged at his features and he found himself glad that his face was covered. He shook his head against the other man instead of giving any kind of real answer, but evidently that wasn’t enough to satiate him. Damien couldn’t tell if he was prompting the teasing or if Mark was simply eager to win. Possibly, both.

“Normally when it comes to this particular want, the desire is too overwhelming for me to understand its individual parts. But tonight…” Mark’s hands slid from his back, coming to rest at his sides—less than an inch above where Damien wanted them. “It’s the hips. To start, something light and gentle, a casual spidering. Just enough to have you giggling your cocky little head off. Then some pinches to really get you going, and for the finale, I’d dig in and vibrate my thumbs right here—” he tapped a finger against his hip bone—“until you’re begging for even an ounce of mercy. Sound about right?”

Bingo. Damien didn’t respond—couldn’t respond, really, with how hard he was concentrating. His body was shivery, like his whole nervous system was on edge. If Mark had dug in then, it was possible he would have screamed or let out some other embarrassing noise in order to release all this built-up tension.

If he wanted to, he could have made Mark snap right then and there. He had convinced people to do far worse than a bit of tickling, and in this case, Mark wanted it too, so it would have been a breeze to pull off. But he didn’t want to just force him into it. They were playing a tenuous game of tug-o-war, and Damien didn’t want to knock Mark off his feet. He just needed to pull him forward enough to make him break without doing something that might actually kill Damien from how intense it got.

Still, Damien had to admire Mark’s resolve. He was getting a lot better at resisting his ability.

Damien still couldn’t tell if he liked that or not.

Mark had gone back to kissing, though this time it quickly strayed from his neck. He pressed insistently on Damien’s chest, and the other man obediently fell back on the bed to allow Mark more access. Mark rucked up his shirt to his chest, his lips skimming over Damien’s skin—down his ribs, teeth grazing against the skin while his hands rested at his hips, drumming teasingly.

“Mark,” Damien growled out. He gripped Mark’s hair, but didn’t pull him away. “Just—”

“Just?” Mark had paused at his stomach, and the skin there trembled at the proximity. “Use your words, Damien. Just what?”

“Please.”

Mark paused. “I didn’t expect to get that.”

“Oh my god—”

“But you’ll have to be more specific—please what?” Mark glanced up at his flushed face, Damien's brows pinched together in an expression of want. “From how you’re acting, maybe you mean 'please fuck you'?”

Damien choked out a laugh, letting his hand fall over his face. “Don’t be crass. I don’t think we’d still be here if that was it.”

“Fair.”

Mark held horrendously, frustratingly still, waiting for Damien’s concession to give him the permission they both were looking for. Damien gnawed at his lower lip, desire squirming anxiously in his stomach. He was so close. He was still holding onto his pride by a hair and he was considering tipping that desire over the scale just enough to make Mark do what he wanted. It stood at his command, ready for him to wield it.

Mark inhaled shakily, resting his head against Damien’s stomach. They both ignored the jump as Mark’s hair brushed against his bare skin. “Damien, you’re killing me here—”

“Please—fuck, please just fucking tickle me already, Mark, or I swear to god—fuhuhUHUCK!”

Laughter spilled out of Damien in wild waves as fingers scribbled into his hips at last. They were clumsy, frantic movements as both Mark and Damien’s wills worked together to bring the latter to ruin. Still, hours of anticipation had served to ramp Damien’s nerves to such an intensity that it hardly mattered. His hands shot down immediately to try to pry Mark’s off of him to no avail. Normally he tried to keep up some semblance of dignity when the tickling first started, but at this point, he couldn’t be bothered to care what he looked or sounded like. All he knew was that it tickled and he needed to stay like this for as long as they both could last.

Mark’s lips were everywhere, biting, kissing and licking all over his torso in a manner that was unfairly ticklish. Though he was never able to pull off a full beard, Mark had a stubble that he had to tame every once in a while. Damien would never admit it, but he was kind of into the subtle shadow it added to Damien’s face. Now, he wanted to rip off what hair was there and shove it down Mark’s smug throat.

While his mouth was free roaming, however, his hands remained at Damien’s hips. Scribbling, pinching, digging, whatever Damien’s desire wanted in that moment. Mark followed the unspoken instructions to a T, and Damien was going to kill him if he didn’t stop soon.

“Markmarkmark plehehehease!” Damien’s legs kicked out violently, but with Mark in-between his legs, it didn’t do much good. His back was arched and his hair crushed and twisting in fifteen different directions against the bed. Sensation zipped through his body like he was a livewire, forcing his mouth up into a manic grin. He was sure he looked insane. He felt insane. He had never wanted to kiss Mark more. “It fuhuhucking tihihickles, it tickles you d-dihihick!”

“Well, then it seems like I’m doing a good job, doesn’t it?” Mark muttered against his skin. “Now sit back and enjoy yourself. It’s going to be a long night.”

And Damien did just that, pressing himself back against the bed. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to just laugh.

Sometimes, Damien mused later that night, losing could have its benefits.

#tickle fic #the bright sessions #mark bryant #damien gorham #robert gorham #damien #tbs #tickling #fanfiction #mark x damien

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