#so I will just have to make up an excuse to leave early if it starts to make me uncomfortable 👍

[freyito]

ᴅᴇʟʟɪɴɢʀꜝ ⨟ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, jiaoqiu, moze, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: you wake up next to them.

✧ a/n: for those who have read my works since i first started writing, i made a little masterpost on the mk(1) boys nightly rotuines... i figured id do one for hsr men since my mk hyperfixation died and is buried 6ft under... and i might do one for the hsr men nighttime routines but for now... wakey wakey

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 3.9k

⎯ Aventurine

Ever the gambler, AVENTURINE even takes a gamble on waking up in the morning. He can set as many alarms as he wants, but he always sleeps in. He finds any excuse to cuddle up next to you and enjoy your warmth for a minute, or even an hour more. He doesn’t mind coming into work late, he always finds a way to slip out of write-ups.

You’ve lost count of how many alarms went off by now, as annoying as it was. Still, despite how important Aventurine was, he’s cuddled up against your back, hands gripping your clothes tightly as if you’d dare to wiggle out of his arms. You could remind him, again and again, that he needs to go, that he has a meeting that day, or a certain deadline, and he’ll just groan and say that his superiors can handle him being gone for another hour or so.

When you do manage to convince him to get up and start the day, he does everything with such reluctance. Forget his rank, forget all of it, he’d much rather spend several more hours in bed with you, even when the sun dips low. He’s slow to put on his uniform, asking you the most mundane of questions, with answers he already knows. He skips out on breakfast at hope, douses himself in that expensive cologne that makes you have to distance yourself until he leaves, and wires you enough money to buy the entire menu from the cafe you mentioned you liked in passing.

⎯ Dr. Ratio

The early bird gets the worm, as they say, and VERITAS is no exception to the saying. Considering work has him busy, he’s thoughtful enough to leave you to sleep, if you are not accustomed to a sleep schedule like his. He tends to wake up early, to give himself enough time to prepare himself for the day. He likes to be thorough, check over his lesson plan for the day, make sure he made no mistakes the day before (although he rarely needs to revise it).

While on the outside, he seems cold and uncaring, on the inside he’s flustering himself with how much he worries about you. He knows he will see you later in the day, when you’ll bring him his lunch, or after his lectures, but some part of leaving just unsettles him. Not that he believes you’d be in danger if you were gone, but more so how you take care of yourself. Of course he knows you’re capable, but some part in him wants to make sure.

So, before he leaves, right when you wake up, he does his best to cook a filling breakfast. Most of the times, Ratio has to put it in some tupperware and save it for later at work, but there are very rare occasions that he gets to enjoy the meal with you. He always makes more– “it was an accident, nothing more,” he’ll say, shaking his head, stoic as ever. But you know it wasn’t– and shovel it onto your plate, it’s his own love language. 

⎯ Boothill

BOOTHILL is an early riser. It’s a habit that was ingrained in him since he was knee high. Granted, he doesn’t need much sleep, and he isn’t around as often as you’d like. He doesn’t stay in one place for long, and he really only swings by your apartment once or twice every month. But that doesn’t mean he’ll sleepover, if only for a night.

Despite the fact that he wakes up even hours before you, he decides to let you sleep. Sometimes he’ll stay in bed as long as you are, soaking in the peaceful sight, one that he’s never afforded himself until you came along. He reaches out ever so tentatively, as if he’ll feel your warm skin underneath his finger tips, but all it earns him is a shudder and your face scrunching. And when you wake up, he’s in such a hurry to pretend he wasn’t watching you sleep, mumbling apologies like he’s disturbed you.

When he’s not watching over you, Boothill enjoys cooking. He might’ve lost his taste and stomach a while ago, but he’s still an excellent chef. For all he can’t eat, he loves cooking. And he believes one of the best ways of waking up is to have a hearty breakfast. While you catch up on your sleep (most likely because he showed up at your apartment late into the night scuffed and bloody(?), acting like nothing happened), he’s making the most heavenly smelling pancakes ever, humming some old country tune to himself. If you dare get up to see what he’s cooking, he shoos you back to bed, tutting and claiming that you’re ruining the surprise, as if he doesn’t do this every time.

⎯ Gallagher

For such a busy man, GALLAGHER tends to sleep a lot. Or perhaps, too little. His schedule is always fluctuating, which means he’s up early and home late. It’s unfair, you think. Most of the time he’ll come home all quiet, settle on a snack, and then sneak into bed, and pull you up close. Half the time he doesn’t even care about his clothes, opting to take off his vest and shirt and throw them on the floor. He’ll worry about the laundry later.

That being said, it’s often a gamble if you’ll see him in the morning or not. He wakes up quite early, and as much as he’d love to spend time with you, cuddle up, and go straight back to sleep, he has to at least look presentable for the next time he’s called in. Most of the time, he accidentally wakes you up when he gets up to shower, but you settle back in quite comfortably. 

Most of the time, he’ll have to leave right after his shower. So he’ll do his best to be quiet as a mouse, sneak in, and press a kiss to your forehead, before starting his day. But on the days he can sleep in, or when he doesn’t have work… he climbs right back into bed. The scent of his body wash rolls over you, in the near-overpowering sandalwood haven it is. He’ll wrap his arm around your waist, pull you impossible closer, and nuzzle into your neck. If you are awake by that time, he urges you to go back to sleep. ‘5 more minutes’, he’ll grumble, and in possibly record speed, he’s out like light. His arm loosens ever so slightly, as he snores away until his thirteenth alarm goes off.

⎯ Sunday

As a stickler for schedules, it’s no surprise that SUNDAY has a strict morning routine. He wakes up at 7 AM system time, 6 AM being too early, and 8 AM being too late. Of course, he encourages you to do the same. You get used to it with time.

He likes to start with a shower, of course. Something intimate with you, yet so normal. He does not mind spending an hour in the shower, but with his station, he cannot. So unfortunately, he has to cut such time short. But he makes sure to soak in every single minute left in the morning with you. A nice breakfast and some tea, as he chats away about his ‘chores’ for the day, what matters he is attending to, whether or not it is a day in the office or out and about. 

Regardless of how busy his day is, Sunday makes sure you know that you are in every waking thought of his. A kiss and a hug at the door, and he’s on his way. You can see some flicker of sorrow as he leaves, as if it is something to grieve over, not being by your side for a minute longer. But alas, to achieve and infinite amount of sundays, he cannot afford to make room in his schedule for more down time. 

⎯ Argenti

ARGENTI never ceases to look as heavenly as ever, even in his sleep. However, he has quite a strict schedule he sticks to, something that manifested when his master started training him. He has quite the strict schedule: wake up early, shower, enjoy his breakfast, and start training, unless he has somewhere to be. 

However, he does allow him so rest days, where he sleeps just a little longer, and allows himself more spare time. Very rarely do you catch him asleep when you wake up, and most mornings when he does ‘sleep in’, you often wake up to him gazing down at you. His head propped up by his hand, hair cascading down his shoulders. He could even miss out on several hours of sleep or perhaps even the entire night, and still look angelic. He greets you with a soft smile and a huff, his fingers brushing against your cheeks, as he waits for you to properly wake up.

And once you’re ready to get up, he’s ready to start the day. Anything you do, he's practically following you around like a lost puppy. When you make breakfast, you're either watching over his shoulder, or he is. He never skips out on a chance to dance in the kitchen, making something that was normally a spectacle regulated, and yet, it still feels as intimate as it does the very first time he pulled you into his arms.

⎯Sampo Koski

SAMPO KOSKI needs his beauty sleep. Granted, his sleeping schedule varies based on his business. Sometimes he needs to rob someone blind in the early hours of the morning, or his clients want to meet way past his bedtime. He’ll huff and puff and complain about it, but he always makes time to curl up in your arms like a poor little stray kitten.

When he is finally free of his dreaded work (his path in life that HE chose), he sleeps in quite late. Most of the time, he wants to enjoy the time he has left with you, pout and complain about how hard his job is (again, a career HE CHOSE). He has a lot to say when he (or you) wake up, only because he’s missed talking casually, and most of all, he’s missed you. His jobs and clients have him acting all proper, putting on some other character than he truly is for his clients. While there are some acts he likes… sometimes he just wants to break character and get his clients to buy whatever piece of junk he’s stolen.

Despite all his yapping, he truly enjoys the time he gets with you, even if most of it is him keeping you in bed. He pulls you up close to his chest if you even dare to move, burying his face in the crook of your neck and muttering pathetic little ‘don’t leave’s and the like. When you look down at him he’s just so tired, his eyebags are somehow seven times darker and he’s lost all that luster in his eyes. But you know he’s putting on an act. When you get up, he’ll be crawling to your side in no time.

⎯ Jing Yuan

Ah, the Dozing General. Who better to wake up with? While JING YUAN has to be up early, he doesn’t skip out on any time that could be spent with you. When his first alarm goes off, he’s quick to snooze it, rolling over and throwing his arm over your waist, pulling you closer. He’s used to waking up this early, of course, but he doesn’t like to miss out on those precious 30 minutes where he’s holding you close, uninterrupted. You’re accustomed to this schedule, as well. Wake up; but not really, spend the next moments cuddling, and then start your day.

As the Divine Foresight, he doesn’t get as much leisure time as he’d like, or days off. He could spend all day in bed, really, spoiling himself (as he sees it) to high heavens. But unfortunately, there is work that needs to be done, and he needs to start his day. And (un)fortunately, he quite enjoys dragging you along. A nice walk in the garden before he truly starts the day is a sign of a peaceful day. With you by his side, half-awake or not.

That being said, he does so because he wishes to spend every possible moment he has with you. His station means his workload will be unpredictable, and while he wishes that all days would be mundane, that wish will never come true. So, spending the first thirty minutes to several hours of his morning with you is what he rewards himself with. A nice meal and a good bath sets him in the right mood, being simply a step away at most in the morning. 

⎯ Blade

BLADE doesn’t sleep well in general. Often times he’s woken up at all hours in the night by things he won’t share– “It’s childish.” is what he says, with a huff. Nightmares. It’s nightmares. He doesn’t have much of a reaction to them anymore, aside from grumbling and complaining quietly, which is normal. As much as he tries to go back to sleep, he simply can’t most of the time, opting to do something to keep his mind and hands busy, as sleep deprived as he is.

You tend to be met with his back when you wake up, tense as ever. When he can’t find something to do, he settles on meditation, which does nothing to calm the voices and ‘vengeance’ that addles his mind. It does too little for him, his mind always circling back to what could have been. The minute you shift in bed, he snaps out of it quickly, looking back at you with his unreadable gaze. 

Most of the time, if you ask him to lay down with you, he will, as long as he doesn’t have an assignment he needs to be on. For all his sharp edges, he’s quite… dull when it comes to you. Perhaps it’s the many years he’s faced that’s made him lose his luster, or simply his own undoing. Yet, somehow, when you pull him in close, he relaxes ever so slightly. Perhaps not all the way, but it’d take you a couple more years to break down his walls completely. You could sleep for another three hours and he’d at least get time to close his eyes and let his mind rest; something he desperately needs.

⎯ Luocha

While LUOCHA’s “work” has him up quite early, well into the AMs. Of course, with all the traveling he’s done, his sleep schedule varies, and it’s not like he gets to spend as much time as he’d like with you, but you tag along all the same. He could be awake at 3AM system time and you’d be sound asleep until 10AM, and somehow, he’d still look as handsome as ever. You’re starting to feel a little jealous.

Still, he makes time to greet you in the morning. Aside from being a merchant, he is, of course, a healer, and he wants to make sure you're sleeping right. And, perhaps to catch up, if he has been gone for a few days. After all, not only does physical health matter, but mental, as well. A quick little chat, maybe some tender touches, and a hearty meal that he’s brought from the markets is quite enough mental stimulation, yes?

Sometimes, it seems he disagrees, choosing to crawl in bed alongside you, even if you chose to wake up properly. He’ll play with your hair, whisper sweet nothings to you, or simply just stare and smile. He doesn’t get to be affectionate often, either, and often that need for human touch culminates, which leads to those impromptu cuddling sessions in the morning.

⎯ Jiaoqiu

As a healer, JIAOQIU wants to make sure you (and him) maintain a normal, healthy sleep schedule. Unless he’s on an emergency call, he tends to wake up at a mostly normal time, between 8-10 AM. Of course, he wakes you up with him, wanting to start his day off right with your pretty face.

He wakes you up oh so sweetly for a man with such a scheming smile. His fingers glide over your skin, pushing your hair behind your ear, using such a sweet voice, one so sweet that it makes your teeth ache. And when you're finally properly awake, he’s all too excited to rush off to the kitchen, like a giddy child. 

Of course, what’s a morning without Jiaoqiu without some breakfast? When you return from your shower, the kitchen is alive with his cooking, the sounds of sizzling and smells of spices (what else?) a delightful concoction. What is he cooking? Ji dan bing, a fulfilling breakfast. While you are the only person he cuts down the spice for, the food still has enough kick to make you make a face. Of course, his plate smells so spicy that it makes you recoil, which earns a chuckle from the Foxian.

⎯ Moze

Most of the time, MOZE sneaks into your shared bed by the morning, seeing as most of his work is carried out during the night. By the time he’s settled in bed, it’s around the time you wake up. It’s a peaceful sight, really. You’re so used to him scowling or simply not emoting, that when you wake up to his face, tranquil as ever, it makes your heart flutter.

Of course, that does not last. He is up within the first couple of seconds you stare too long, easily woken by any simple rustling. The feeling of someone’s eyes on him means one thing: danger. And he unfortunately hasn’t shaken that habit. However, he has grown used to the fact that it’s you staring at him in the morning hours, and thankfully you are spared a knife to your throat.

He jolts awake with a disgruntled groan, his eyes darting over your features, taking in as much information as he can in his hazy mind state, as if he hadn’t seen your face a thousand times over. Once he is satisfied with the fact that it’s you, he lays back down with a huff, before pulling you down with him. You may have the day to start, but he would like at least a couple more moments in bed with you, he’s stubborn that way.

⎯ Dan Heng

With his days off, DAN HENG tends to enjoy lounging. If not lounging, then reading, and if not reading, then cleaning. But most of the time, since you came back from the Xianzhou Loufu, he’s been sleeping in an awful lot. You're often the first to wake up, or at least, the first to get out of bed.

Most of the time, you sleep in with him, happy to get a couple extra minutes to a couple hours more of sleep. It’s a nice moment of peace and quiet after the amount of missions you two have been on, while March and the Trailblazer updates you on what’s happening wherever they are. Still, sometimes sleeping in gets kind of boring. So while Dan Heng catches on some much needed sleep (and alone time), you busy yourself with cleaning around the express, helping Pom-Pom with certain tasks, and even doing your best to cook up some breakfast.

When you bring your expert attempt at pancakes back to you and Dan Heng’s room, he perks up. He goes from sulking to practically beaming (or what you can consider beaming, you get a soft smile nonetheless), and digs in eagerly. It seems like enough to energize him for a couple of days, pushing away what had happened on the Loufu to the furthest reaches of his mind.

⎯ Gepard

GEPARD does not get much time in the mornings with you or himself. As captain of the guard, he has to be up early, and on call whenever the need arises. While it is very rare that he is called to dispatch an issue in the middle of the night, he is often reluctant to simply leave you in the morning. Of course, he won’t wake you for his own selfish reasons, he just simply wishes he could get more time to enjoy your presence in the morning.

As quietly as he tries to move, somehow he always wakes you up, or perhaps that's what your sleep cycle has gotten used to. Oftentimes, you wake up when he’s taking his shower, his soft humming rising over the sound of water. You know he only does this when he believes he is alone or heard, and every single time, you can’t help but think of it as cute. But you won’t tell him you heard it.

Most of the time you stay up so you can say goodbye to Gepard and tell him to have a good day, while he stumbles over excuses that he doesn’t need. He’s adorable in all his fluster, before he finally collects himself with a deep breath. He promises he’ll see you at the end of the day, and that he’ll bring some dinner home from one of your favorite restaurants.

⎯ Caelus

What adventure with CAELUS drag you on next? That’s a constant question that haunts your mind every time an adventure is done. The most sleep you get is on the Express, in between missions. In the morning’s, he wakes up with such determination, it’s almost impressive. He could have the worst sleep of his life and he wakes up raring to go.

Of course, he does his best not to wake you if you aren’t up. In fact, he’ll do his best to be as quiet as possible, sneaking out of the room, and even tip-toeing down the cabins. Like any little movement will wake his precious partner up. However, sometimes, when he’s feeling a little clingy, he’ll cuddle back in bed and pull you really close, refusing to let go unless you need to do something.

On the occasion you guys are out on a mission, he is the complete opposite. He could wake up well into the noon and groan and complain about not getting enough sleep, even if he slept like a baby. Of course, he wants to get on with his adventures, but at the same time, the hotel’s bed is soooo comfy, and he doesn’t want to leave. Which, he’ll keep you there too until he’s fully awake, spooning you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

⎯ Welt

On his days off, which seems to be most days now, WELT sleeps in only a little. Mornings with him are nothing short of intimate, simply laying there in each others arms, muttering sweet words. Truth be told, he enjoys these quiet moments, even if they push back the work he has to get done around the Express.

Still, no one's complaining, right? The work he has to get done will get done eventually, and he can spare a couple hours for his beloved. He cherishes every stolen second, as the hours tick away, his fingers trailing over your skin, before cupping your face. Framing his entire world in his palm.

However, you can’t stay in bed forever. Unfortunately, you do have to get up, and start your day. Welt won’t leave your side, though. Not if he can help it, at least. You two share a shower together, some more words, of course, and even cook together afterwards. Pom Pom huffs and puffs about not only Welt, but you being late and taking too long, and how the Express is founded on the structure of the schedule. It’s okay, however, because Pom Pom will be thanking you two for your hard work (sweeping the other cabins, cleaning the windows, and vacuuming the carpet) at the end of the day.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server (16+) | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[anniebeemine]

requests? say no more.

ok this is a little angsty so only if you're comfortable but maybe s2 spencer and reader have been dating for 3-4 months when the whole tobias thing happens. spencer starts pushing away reader and wont tell her anything. bc this is a new relationship she is very confused and insecure and confronts him asking if he wants to break up and he doesn't know bc on one hand he cares about her but on the other hand he is embarrassed and doesnt want her to deal with this so new in a relationship. happy ending PLEASE (for my soul)

as you can tell i have thought about this A LOT lmao

my heart hurts... (i haven't seen this arc in a while so I hope this is accurate enough)

warnings: discussions of addiction, happy-ish ending. I left it open ended but positive

You and Spencer had only been dating for a few months when everything started to unravel. At first, it had been perfect—those sweet, awkward moments when he was still trying to figure out how to be in a relationship, the way his eyes lit up when he saw you, the late-night talks that stretched into the early hours of the morning. But after a week away, everything changed.

You weren’t exactly sure what had happened. You didn't want to press, but his friends had warned you that it was bad. All you knew for sure was that Spencer had come back different. The spark in his eyes was dulled, and he barely looked at you anymore. There was no explanation, no details of the trauma he'd endured, just this cold distance that settled between you. You’d sit on the couch together, but it felt like you were miles apart. He was always tugging at his sleeve, fidgeting, avoiding eye contact. His hands used to brush against yours absentmindedly, and now they stayed firmly in his lap, clenched into fists.

He didn’t stay long during those visits either—every time he showed up, it felt like he was itching to leave. You’d ask him to stay for dinner or suggest going for a walk, and he’d make some excuse, slipping away before you could even finish your sentence. You tried to give him space, hoping it was just a phase, but the more space you gave him, the more it felt like he was pulling away entirely.

Eventually, the visits became shorter and shorter until they stopped happening altogether. Weeks went by without hearing from him, and your calls went straight to voicemail. You didn’t know how to navigate it. You knew Spencer had been through something terrible, but he wouldn’t let you in. And it hurt. It hurt in ways you hadn’t expected. You weren’t just confused—you were insecure. Was it you? Was it something you did? Did he want to break up?

The questions swirled in your mind until you couldn’t take it anymore. One night, you couldn’t sleep, your thoughts running wild. You sat there in the dark, staring at your phone, your heart aching. You missed him. You missed his voice, his touch, the way he would ramble about anything and everything because it made him feel more comfortable. And now, all you had was silence.

You needed answers. You needed to know where you stood before you drove yourself mad.

The next day, you found yourself outside his apartment, your heart pounding in your chest. You raised your hand to knock, but it hovered in the air, hesitation weighing you down. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if you were making everything worse by showing up like this?

But you pushed those thoughts aside and knocked.

It took a minute, but eventually, the door creaked open. Spencer stood there, looking just as tired and worn out as you’d imagined. His eyes flicked to you, surprise flashing across his face before he quickly tried to mask it.

"Y/N?" His voice was hoarse, almost like he hadn’t used it in a while.

“Spencer,” you said softly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Can I come in?”

He hesitated, then stepped aside, letting you enter. The apartment was dimly lit, with stacks of books and papers cluttering the space. You sat down on the couch, and he sat across from you, his eyes glued to the floor.

You didn’t know how to start, so you just blurted it out. “Spencer, what’s going on? You’ve been so distant, and I... I just need to know if you want to break up.”

His head snapped up, eyes wide with shock. “What? No, I—”

“Then what is it?” you interrupted, your voice shaking. “You won’t talk to me, you won’t tell me anything. You barely even look at me anymore. I feel like... like I don’t even know you right now.”

Spencer flinched, and you could see the guilt wash over his face. He rubbed his hands together, still tugging on his sleeve like it was some sort of comfort. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“Then why?” you asked, your voice breaking. “Why are you pushing me away? If you care about me at all, please just tell me.”

Spencer stayed silent for a long moment, his brow furrowed in thought. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible. “I... I didn’t want you to deal with this.”

You frowned, confused. “Deal with what?”

He looked away again, his fingers trembling. “What happened... with... it... it changed me. I’m not... I’m not the same. I didn’t want you to have to see that or deal with it. I didn’t want to burden you with it when... when this relationship is still so new.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the weight of what he was saying finally sinking in. “Spencer... you’re not a burden. You’re never a burden.”

He shook his head, his voice laced with frustration. “You don’t understand. I’m embarrassed. I’m... ashamed. And I don’t want to drag you into that.”

You reached out and gently took his hand in yours, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “I don’t care what happened, Spencer. I care about you. I want to be here for you, no matter what. But you have to let me in. You can’t keep shutting me out.”

Spencer’s hand trembled slightly in yours, his eyes still distant, but there was a softness to his gaze now that hadn’t been there before. You could see the exhaustion, the pain he’d been carrying alone. He sat up straighter, a sigh escaping his lips as though he were gathering the courage to continue.

“I... I haven’t been honest with you,” he started, his voice rough with emotion. He looked down at his lap, his fingers still fidgeting. “I’ve been using.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. It felt like time slowed for a second, the weight of those words crashing into you like a tidal wave. You didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to go down this road—but when you looked into his eyes, you saw the truth there. His face may have been painted with shame and anger, but his eyes… they were pleading. Pleading for understanding, for help.

“Spencer…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t know what to say—part of you wanted to scream, to run, to escape the reality that was suddenly in front of you. But another part of you—the part that loved him deeply, that had spent countless nights by his side—knew you couldn’t abandon him now.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, trying and failing to keep the tears at bay. “I didn’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I thought... I thought I could handle it. That I could stop on my own.” He looked at your hand holding his, the tension in his body slowly easing. “I’m scared,” he admitted softly. “I’m scared that you’ll see the worst parts of me and... and you’ll leave.”

His words hit you hard. You could feel the vulnerability in every syllable, and your heart ached for him. You swallowed hard, your hand tightening around his as you whispered, “You don’t have to handle it alone. You don’t have to hide this from me.”

His breath hitched, and he turned his face away, wiping at his eyes quickly. He was still holding back, his guard up even as the cracks began to show. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want you to know how weak I am.”

Your heart broke at the vulnerability in his voice. You squeezed his hand tighter, shaking your head. “I’m not going anywhere, Spencer. I’m here. And I’m not giving up on what's here.”

“Spencer, look at me,” you urged, your voice trembling with emotion. He hesitated for a moment before finally meeting your gaze, and what you saw nearly broke you. His face was twisted in pain, his eyes red-rimmed with tears. “You’re not weak,” you said softly. “You’ve been through hell, and you’re still standing. That’s not weakness.”

He shook his head violently. “No, you don’t understand.” His voice cracked, the dam he’d been holding back finally breaking. “I thought you’d leave me. I’ve been waiting for it. I’m a mess. I’m broken. I didn’t want to... drag you down with me.”

Your heart shattered at his words, at the depth of his self-loathing and fear. You could see now how much he had been struggling alone, how much he had kept bottled up inside, and it broke your heart that he thought he didn’t deserve help—or you.

Without a second thought, you pulled him into your arms, cradling him close. His body tensed for a moment before he melted into you, burying his face in your shoulder as his tears finally spilled over. He sobbed quietly, his hands gripping the back of your shirt as if afraid to let go.

“I’m not leaving,” you whispered fiercely, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this, okay? We’ll figure it out together.”

He cried harder, his body shaking with each sob, and you held him tighter, pressing your cheek against his. “I thought… I thought I’d lost you,” he choked out. “I didn’t know how to... how to tell you. I thought I’d ruined everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, Spencer,” you assured him, your own voice breaking now. “I love you. We’ll get through this. I’m here. I’m right here.”

For what felt like an eternity, the two of you stayed like that—wrapped up in each other, holding onto the pieces of what had felt so fragile only moments before. His sobs gradually quieted, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes still glistening with tears but filled with something else too—relief. Hope.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you reminded him gently, brushing a tear from his cheek. “I’m not leaving, and we’ll find help. We’ll get through this together.”

He nodded, his fingers brushing lightly over yours as he whispered, “Thank you.” His voice cracked, but there was sincerity there—real, raw emotion that made your heart ache for him even more.

“Always,” you whispered, pulling him close again, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You knew this wouldn’t be easy—there would be hard days, long nights, moments of doubt. But as long as you had him and he had you, you were ready to face whatever came next.

[bluetoes-andstuff]

Ape and Flow

Caesar x Human!Reader

Summary: You’re moody. Caesar’s not sure what to do to fix it.

Word Count: 5k

Rating: General

Warning: PMS stuff

***You guys voted, so here ya go. Honestly wasn’t expecting to have to do it from Caesars perspective, but I accepted the challenge, trying not to make the reader seem too insane lol. This one got away from me so Enjoy***

The sun peeked through the dense fog, reflecting a soft hue of the early morning light across the forest floor. Caesar stood at the edge of his home, scanning the horizon. The morning was serene, the air crisp and filled with the sounds of nature waking up. It was his favorite time of day; a moment of serenity before the day's responsibilities swept him up with unending activity.

His thoughts drifted to you, as they usually do in these quiet moments. Things between the two of you were slowly beginning to develop. Caesar has been more than forward with his intentions, and he feels like you were finally beginning to reciprocate his feelings. Though sometimes he wonders if you realize how serious he is with his intent on courtship. The treasures he leaves outside your home seem to bring no more satisfaction or attachment than the sentiments Rocket or Tinker would bestow on you through the day. And his efforts to provide you with companionship and comfort seem no more appreciated than Maurice’s same platonic attempts.

Of course, with his duties to the colony he can’t exactly dedicate every moment of his day to spending with you, but he most definitely makes an effort to spend every spare moment he can at your side, claiming you in the eyes of the other apes, that you were his for the taking. You spend most of your time with the other females or with Maurice and the young ones, but most every male knew who you belonged to even if you yourself were not quite aware yet.

That in itself brought Caesar enough satisfaction and contentment, knowing no one else had their eyes on you. Not that they would, considering most every ape thought it absurd his attraction to you.

And despite both of your differing responsibilities, Caesar found himself drawn to your side more and more each passing day. He kept finding excuses to accompany you on your scavenging adventures, and your gardening chores when he had nothing else pressing to do.

So because of your growing closeness and physical proximity… the past few days, Caesar had noticed a slight change in your interactions. The usual exuberance and chattering has been replaced with a more withdrawn moodiness. Your usual bright demeanor clouded by something he couldn’t quite identify. You laughed less, your smiles were more fleeting, and there was a tension in your movements that hadn’t been there before. He had tried to ask you about it, but you brushed off his concerns with a forced smile and a quick change of subject almost every time he branched the subject.

He considers himself to be quite an observant and considerate ape… so he knows this change in attitude is not something of his own thinking. It is a legitimate concern that keeps coming back to mind.

This only proves true later in the morning where the change becomes more pronounced. As Caesar prepares to join the hunting party, he glanced over at you sitting by the fire, staring into the flames with an abject frown. Your shoulders hunched and a tightness around your eyes screaming discomfort.

He hoots gently as he approaches on all fours, slowly coming into your line of sight as he signs slowly “Are you alright?”

You looked at him, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment before looking away. “I’m fine, Caesar. Just tired.”

He frowned, not convinced. “Something is bothering you,” he insists.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It’s really nothing. Just… one of those days.”

Caesar nods slowly, though he wasn’t quite satisfied with that answer. Even though he wasn’t as close to you as he wished he was, he still had a good understanding of who you were and how you acted day to day, and you were most definitely not yourself. He knew there was more to it, but he also knew better than to push you when you weren't ready to talk.

“If you're sure….” He speaks slowly, reaching out to gently grasp one of your hands in his.

You give him a small, grateful smile. “I’m sure. Don’t worry about me.”

Both Koba and Spear call out for his attention and it forces him to withdraw from you with one last small exchange. He reaches forward for you to caress his arm and face as you usually do upon his departure, but you simply grab onto his fingers and force a smile before letting go with a simple squeeze. It may seem insignificant to anyone else there to witness it, but it was a drastic change in your usual exchange and Caesar can’t help but feel the craving for your usual affection and sentiment.

He slowly withdrew to join the hunting party, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. There had to be! He replayed your recent interactions in his mind, trying to piece together the puzzle. Your mood had been slowly shifting, and today it seemed to have reached a tipping point. He resolved to keep a closer eye on you, hoping to understand what was troubling you and how he could help, even if he had to force it out.

He got drawn into his usual duties, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you at every spare moment. His distractions through the morning almost cost the colony a kill or two, so he decided with a finality that he would seek you out as soon as he returned to end this contemplation…

Caesar returns to the camp after a successful hunt, carrying a bundle of fresh game on the back of his horse. He spotted you near the edge of the colony, outside the home you’ve been residing in the past few months. You sat on a wide stump, slumped forward, attempting to start a fire while muttering under your breath. Your movements were jerky and uncoordinated, your entire body clinging to a weird stiffness he had never seen you with before.

“Need help?” Caesar called slowly. He jumps down from his horse, handing it off to another ape to bring to the stables.

You look up when you hear him, your expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “No, I’ve got it,” you snap, striking the flint with a little more force than necessary.

Caesar raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. Your stubbornness was always a subject of amusement for him. “The fire… might disagree.”

You glare at him, but there was a flicker of a smile creeping along your face. “Very funny, Caesar. Maybe you should stick to hunting.”

He chuckled, kneeling beside you, reverting back to sign. “And maybe you should let me help before you set the whole colony on fire.”

You sigh, handing him the flint. “Fine. But if you can’t get it started, I’m gonna laugh.”

Caesar took the flint, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He struck it a few times with practiced hands, and soon a small flame flickered to life. He glanced at you, a triumphant smile on his face. “See? No forest fires today.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help but chuckle. “Whatever Caesar.”

Caesar sat himself beside you, enjoying the companionable silence as the two of you sat around the fire. Caesar noticed the tension in your shoulders begin to worsen as you stared silently into the flames. He hoped that whatever was bothering you would pass soon, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was at play. For now, he decided to focus on the moment, enjoying the rare chance to have a moment of shared serenity with you.

The sun was high in the sky when you and Caesar made your way back to the center of the colony. The morning’s tension still lingered between you even after your quiet moments together, but Caesar tried to push it aside as you two approached the town center. The colony was alive with activity—apes working together to construct new shelters, children playing, and the sounds of laughter and conversation filling the air.

Caesar spotted Maurice near the center of the camp, surrounded by a group of young apes who were eagerly listening to one of his stories. You usually enjoyed these moments, often joining Maurice and the young ones, cuddling them in your lap and stroking their soft baby fur, but today you did not show any interest in joining. Some of the young apes watch as the two of you pass by, eyes fixated on you in anticipation of you joining them, but you never look their way.

Caesar had plans to bring you to the communal fire where you could linger in your reflections while still being surrounded by the camaraderie of others so you might not be left so lonely, but as soon as you came close, you were immediately approached by Leaf. “Can you help me with the herbs? I need to sort them for tonight’s meal.”

You nod, forcing a smile. “Sure, Leaf. I'll help you out.”

Caesar watched as you walked away with Leaf, your shoulders still tense even in the presence of one of your good friends. He sighed, turning his attention to the hunting party dispersed around the fire. Koba and Rocket sat together, discussing the success of the morning’s hunt, the distribution of the game, and plans for the next outing as they usually did. More often than not he made an effort to involve himself in those discussions, but lately, you had taken priority.

He took a seat amongst the others to join their discussions, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you just as it had prior that day. Koba of course noticed his distracted state, and more than once bumped him in the shoulder with a disapproving look. Although he does not verbally discuss his disapproval for his relationship with you, he makes it very clear in other ways.

It took far longer than usual. At least it felt like it did, but after finishing his discussions with the hunting party, Caesar decided to check on you. He found you and Leaf near the storage area, sorting through bundles of herbs. Your movements were quick and precise, but there was an edge to your actions that hadn’t been there that spoke volumes to anyone paying attention.

Caesar hooted gently as he approached, gaining both ladies’ attention. He places a careful hand on the small of your back as he signs, pressing his body close to yours. “How’s it going?” Caesar asked..

Leaf looked towards you both with a smile. “We’re almost done. Thanks to your help, of course.” She looks towards you with the final statement but you weren’t even looking at her to see her signs.

Leaf frowns then directs her gaze to Caesar. “What happened? She has been off all day.”

Caesar shares a look with her. “I know.” The emphasis and dramatization of his sign spoke enough for him… this has been an ongoing battle with you for days now. It just seems to finally becoming more obvious to the others.

You still didn’t look up, your focus entirely on the herbs.

Caesar frowned, the hand he had rested on your back inching to grasp your hip, encircling you in his arm. “Can we… talk?”

You finally looked up, your eyes flashing with irritation, like just his presence beside you was infuriating. You push his hand away roughly, taking a step to the side to face him head on with your glare. “What is it, Caesar? I’m busy.”

The tone shocks him. You had never spoken to him in that way… In fact, no one has ever spoken to him like that. Leaf seems to share in his shock, staring between the two of them like she was expecting Caesar to throw you to the ground in some dominant display.

He would never, of course, simply because you had no concept of what your actions or tone were implying. There was no need to assert his dominance to you when he knew you were not seeking to challenge him.

He takes a deep breath and tries to keep his tone calm. Because even though his mind reasons that you do not mean to imply what you are, the instinct in him is sparking the flame of his anger.. “I’m concerned… You’ve seemed… off lately.”

Your expression softened for a moment, almost apologetic in a way, but then you shook your head and dismissed him with a wave. “I’m fine, really. Just tired.”

Before Caesar could say much more. You place the last of the herbs from your bundle on the table. You spin around to fix him with a forced grin. “I’m going down to the river for some alone time. I’ll see you later.”

And with that, you were gone.

Caesar knew a dismissal when he heard one. No matter how badly he wished to follow you and force you to tell him what was wrong, he did not.

He wasn’t really sure what to do now… for the past few months every free moment he’s had he’s spent with you. So, now, with no further responsibilities today, he had no idea what to do with himself. It was embarrassing how lost he felt with your absence. Before your arrival he was a self-sustainable, confident leader, now here he is resorted to an insecure mess.

He watches you go. He and Leaf exchange one last glance before he huffs and turns around, heading back to the communal fire on all fours. He takes the seat he had just vacated and both Koba and Rocket give him curious looks.

“What’s wrong?” Rocket signs

Caesar sighs, gives one meaningful look towards Rocket then signs your name. Rocket, of all the apes in the colony, had the most experience with females, even over Caesar himself. It was possible the chimp may have some advice.

“What did she do?” Koba questions, his interest peaked.

“It is what I did.” Caesar emphasizes.

“What did you do?” Rocket presses.

Caesar shakes his head, hands firmly clasped together in his lap as he speaks. A far away look in his eyes, “ I do not know.”

Both apes exchange a glance about Caesar's cryptic answer, unsure if they should wait for their king to expound or question him further.

“She does not want me around her,” He signs. “She avoids me, and whenever I try to speak with her she is short and terse. And when I touch her, she pulls away. She is not herself. ”

Koba shakes his head with a scowl. “How disrespectful.” He turns away from Caesar as he signs. “You must correct her.”

“No,” Rocket disagrees, “she is upset. You have no idea what you might have done?” He turns his question into Caesar.

“No,” he insists with a grunt. “I make sure to leave her a treasure every morning, and when she awakes, I bring her her favorite berries for breakfast and a fur to keep her warm. She had even mentioned her human drink, tea, and I have managed to find the best herbs to make her one every evening. I’ve even brought her to the human places to find clothing and human things. And I’ve made sure she never has to worry about being lonesome. I’ve been trying very hard to show her my intention.”

Koba scoffs, but Rocket sits to contemplate. “Maybe…” he begins, “she is smothered.”

Caesar hoots at him in offense. “Smothered?!”

“Some females panic when a male moves too quickly with them.”

Caesar pauses in shock. That was it! That had to be it! He didn’t know why he hadn’t consulted Rocket sooner.

“You are right. Thank you Rocket.” He taps Rocket on the shoulder in thanks, pulling him forward to brush their foreheads together.

“Anytime my friend.”

***

The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows across the camp as the apes gathered for their evening meal around the communal fire. The air was filled with the sounds of chatter and laughter, a sense of camaraderie that usually brought comfort to Caesar. But tonight, his mind was elsewhere. His eyes scoured the crowd for your familiar head of hair, but you’ve yet to return from the river. He’s kept a watchful eye on the entrance to the colony and you’ve been gone all afternoon. You knew his rule about being out after dark, and you’d be cutting it close. If you weren’t back by the time supper was over, he’d go out to find you himself.

You’d be pissed about it… but it was for your own safety.

He ate his fruit rather aggressively— he was well aware— as he stared towards the entrance. In actuality his worry was slowly morphing into irritation. The complete and total disregard for his rules was an insult to his authority, whether you were romantically entangled or not.

And just when Caesar about had enough of waiting, there you were. You shuffle into the colony with a deep frown on your face and your arms wrapped tight around your body. Obviously you were not quite over your mood, but you had more than enough time to yourself and Caesar had some things to discuss with you.

He waits for you to find your seat among a group of females. One of them hands you a bowl of food and you force a smile before slowly beginning to pick at your food. Caesar watches you from a distance for a few moments before he decides to approach, hoping to bring some sort of resolution before the day ends. This had gone on long enough.

He approached you, his presence commanding attention. Before he is able to even utter a word you look up at him with a scowl.

“What now, Caesar? Can’t you see I’m trying to eat?”

The camp fell silent, all eyes turning to the unexpected confrontation. Caesar felt a surge of anger and embarrassment. It was one thing for you to voice your upset in private, but challenging him in front of the entire colony was another matter entirely. And it was completely uncalled for no matter how smothered you felt.

He growls low and deep as he says your name with a snap, his voice low and controlled to match his slowly declining mood. “I think we need to talk. Now.”

You stand up abruptly, your frustration finally boiling over. “Why? So you can tell me how off I’ve been lately? You think I don’t know I’ve been a total bitch?! Even if I didn’t know, you’ve made sure I was well aware, haven’t you?.”

The murmurs around the camp grew louder, the apes exchanging uneasy glances between each other. Caesar’s jaw tightens, his instinct to assert his dominance beginning to kick in. He straightens to his full height, his posture imposing as his nostrils flare dangerously.

His voice carries a warning as he says your name once more. “This is not the time or place.”

But you were beyond reasoning at this point, your anger had boiled over and there was not much anyone could do about it. “No, Caesar! I’m done with this! I’ve got some shit going on you don’t know about. So, I don’t need you breathing down my neck at every waking second.”

The camp was deathly silent now, every ape watching the scene unfold. Caesar’s anger flared, his authority being challenged in a way that couldn’t be ignored. He took a step forward, his eyes blazing with his pent up fury. This was not a feeling he enjoyed having directed towards you, and if you were anyone else you’d be pinned to the ground by now with an eye full of his fangs.

He growls your name once more, like it was a final warning, rumbling with suppressed fury. “Enough.”

The dominance in his stance was unmistakable, a clear signal to everyone present. And you seem to finally come to realize the gravity of your actions. You had crossed a line, and the consequences would be immediate. Sometimes you forget Caesar was not human like you, despite his human qualities, he was an animal driven by instinct. A very powerful, very dominant alpha male.

You take a step back, your anger quickly giving way to fear and regret. “Caesar, I—”

He doesn’t move, his gaze locked on yours, a silent command for submission. You’ve never seen him look so intense before, and you had never ever expected to see that look directed towards you. Not from your sweet, attentive Caesar.

The other apes watched, their respect for Caesar’s authority palpable. It was clear who was in the wrong in this altercation, there was no question.

Your shoulders slump, your defiance crumbling. You held out your hand, palm up, a final plea of submission. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. Your shame sent a rippling shiver through your body, the anticipation of his potential rejection almost unbearable.

Caesar’s expression softened slightly, but he had to remain firm. He reached out, swiping your hand gently. Your body racks with an obvious sigh of relief before you turn and flee, your face flushed with shame and tears.

The camp remains silent in your absence, the tension thick in the air. Caesar takes a deep breath, his anger slowly ebbing away. He knew that this confrontation had been necessary, but it pained him to see you in so much distress with the inability to comfort you, knowing he was the cause.

As the evening continued, the apes resumed their activities, though the atmosphere was noticeably subdued. Caesar retreated to a quiet spot, a secluded area near the edge of the forest. He needed a moment to himself, away from the prying eyes and the weight of leadership. Sitting on a fallen log, he let his thoughts drift back to the beginning of his relationship with you.

He remembered the first time you met, the cautious curiosity in your eyes, and the way you had slowly opened up to him. Your bond had grown quickly, fueled by shared human experiences and mutual respect. He recalled the laughter you two shared during your explorations of the forest and into the human city, the quiet moments by the river, and the way your presence had brought a new kind of warmth to his life.

Caesar smiled as he thought about how quickly he had fallen and how desperate he was to express that to you when he first came to the realization. It took you some time to take notice of the little things he did to show his care for you. The fresh berries he’d bring by each morning, knowing they were your favorite. The abundant number of furs he left outside your home every time they came available to him. He knew how susceptible you’d be to the cold in the coming months. Then the times he’d steer away from his usual group of apes to sit with you by the fire and listen to your stories about the human world. The way he would gently brush the hair out of your face when you were deep in thought. He treasured the way you’d blush at him as his fingers brushed against the soft skin of your cheek. Each gesture was a silent promise of his affection and commitment.

But as he reflected on these moments, a nagging doubt began to creep in. Had he done something to cause this rift between you? Had he been too forward as Rocket suggested? He was under the impression that you felt the same as him by the way you gravitated towards him and touched him. Maybe he had misread your actions because what else would justify your sudden anger and animosity.

He thought about the past few days, the subtle changes in your behavior, and the way you became more withdrawn. He had tried to be patient, to give you space, but it seemed the space he gave was not enough. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. He had done everything he could to show his love and support, and yet, it felt like you were pushing him away. All he wanted from you was a straight answer.

Caesar clenched his fists, his frustration bubbling to the surface. It wasn’t just about his authority being challenged in front of the colony; it was about the hurt and confusion it brought on. He had always prided himself on being a fair and understanding leader, but this situation with you was testing his patience in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside him. He knew that getting angry wouldn’t solve anything. He needed to find a way to reach you, to understand what was really going on. If you did not want him the way he wanted you… it might devastate him in the moment but he would respect your wishes. For now, all he could do was wait and hope that you would come to him when you were ready.

As the night grew darker, Caesar’s thoughts remained with you. He headed back to the colony to find the camp quiet, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional call of a nocturnal creature. He gave a nod to Luca and the other guard standing watch then ascended to his home high above the trees. The glow of the fire still burning in his hut lit the path leading to his home and he paused at the entrance to glance out into the dark forest, hoping that when you retreated you did not leave the safety of colony grounds.

He did not have to worry for long though. When he stepped into his home, he took one glance towards his nest to find a mess of furs he did not remember leaving there… as he approached he noticed the soft quivering of the lump hidden beneath them

He rushes to slip into his nest, reaching out a hand towards what he knew for fact had to be you.

The whisper of your name cuts through the silence, his voice laced with shock and concern. “Are you ok?”

The furs go flying, followed by a mess of limbs as you scramble towards him, quite literally attaching yourself to his front like a babe.

“I’m so so sorry, Caesar,” you bawl, your voice muffled against his chest. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean it.”

Caesar’s heart aches at the sound of your distress, his earlier frustration melting away. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. He tips back slowly, bringing you with him until you’re both lying together in the comfort of his nest as he holds you in his arms “Shh, it’s alright,” he murmurs, stroking your hair gently, holding your head close to his chest as your tears soak through his fur. “All is forgiven.”

He could feel your pain and regret, and it pained him to see you so distressed like this. He wanted to demand an explanation, to understand what had driven you to such a drastic state, but he knew that now was not the time. You needed his support, not his questions— as you had so kindly pointed out earlier that evening.

As your sobs begin to subside, Caesar continues to hold you, his touch gentle and reassuring as his hands skate up and down your back. When you finally seemed more composed, you pulled back slightly, and he got a full look at your tear-streaked face.

His voice rumbles gently with the sound of your name, and you cling to him once more, shoving your face against his warm collar. “What's wrong? Please tell me.”

You take a shaky breath, keeping your face hidden against his neck. “It’s stupid,” You whine.

“Not stupid if it… bothers you.” He speaks as soft as he can muster, and you cling tighter to him in your distress.

“It’s… it’s— I’m on my period.” you pause as if expecting him to question what it is, but before he can inquire you keep going, rapidly trying to justify and explain. “Every month I bleed really bad and I cramp. My stomach feels like it’s being stabbed over and over, and this time it feels so much worse for some reason! And then on top of it all it makes me so irrationally angry and irritated at everyone and everything. Most of the time it’s for no reason, but I-I just can’t help it sometimes. So I’m sorry Caesar! It’s my fault.”

“Your cycle?” Caesar confirms with an inquisitive scrunch to his brows. Female chimps had a cycle as well, but growing up he had heard the jokes about the horrors of the human female's cycle… human media often highlighted the bad side effects. The same ones you had just told him.

You nod, all pitiful like. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Caesar scoffed Into your hair, then drifted his hand to your abdomen, gently pressing down. “It hurts here?” he asked.

You nod again, nuzzling closer with a quiet whine. “Real bad.”

Caesar purrs, a soothing sound that rumbled deep in his chest. He tucks you in closer, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your belly. “You should’ve told me... I would have held you all day.”

You managed a small, grateful smile, your body relaxing against his. “I wanted to be tough.”

“Why be tough… when I am here… to take care of you?” He reaches over you to grab one of the loose furs, then pulls it closer to drape over the both of you. You two had yet to share a nest for the night, but now was as good a time as any to start.

You close your eyes as you finally allow yourself to relax completely in his arms. “I don’t deserve you ”

He held you close, his heart filled with a renewed sense of commitment. The relief he felt knowing it wasn’t his forwardness to be causing your bad mood was a weight off his shoulders.

You fell asleep in his arms, face still tucked away. He continues his gentle massage on your abdomen. This he could manage… he is more than happy to take care of you.

[redsrooftopprincess]

Assassin Part 2

Fem reader x Raphael

Warnings: alcohol/drunkenness

Part 1

The wedding had been beautiful, and the reception was a blast. But now the party was beginning to thin as guests made their way to their lodgings for the night, and you've been watching them them leave from your place on the front steps of the main house.

The benefit of having a wedding on property you own is that you don't really have to clean up all that much until morning. As such, you've been posted here, making your way steadily through your own personal bottle of champagne, for the last hour.

You take a long draw from the bottle before setting it back down. Things had been going so well.

You look up when a shadow falls over the moon.

"Oh, hey Specs." You say to your exceptionally tall friend. Donatello sits down beside you on the steps.

He picks up the champagne bottle and swishes it to see how much is left. Yup. You're drunk.

"So, what was all that about?"

You shake your head, at a loss "I have no idea."

You think back over the Wedding for the millionth time in the last hour. You'd walked down the aisle with Raphael arm in arm, and *damn* that reptile could rock a suit. You remember really hoping that the amount of formal makeup you were wearing was enough to cover the flush of warmth in your skin every time he brushed against you and the very thin fabric of your dress. It was criminal, how handsome he was.

You remember your mind drifting during the ceremony to wishes and what-ifs. You'd glanced at him while April was saying her vows. Comfort, safety, home... Gravity. The person you keep coming back to. Why was your brain suddenly checking off boxes?

When the bride was being kissed you couldn't help but look over at him once more. Your... friend? Is that what he is...? The word doesn't seem right. Enough.

D is your best friend. You know what "best friend" feels like. But Raphael... You don't know what these feelings are. You've never felt like this about anyone. This *need*. To have him close. Closer. Finding reasons just to be around him. Coming up with excuses to touch him, just to feel his skin against yours.

Every relationship you've ever been in has felt like work, but things are *easy* with Raphael. Natural. It left you second guessing yourself. Wasn't it supposed to be hard? Weren't you supposed to have to try? Was it really love if you didn't have to fight for it?

April tossed the bouquet and you were the "lucky" one. The moment it hit your hands you decided you were going to talk to him about all of this. Maybe it wouldn't completely blow up in your face. Maybe he would be willing to see where this goes. After all, the night was already so magical, maybe you could squeeze out one more miracle.

Someone had approached you, placed their hand on your arm, and asked you to dance. In the moment it took you to say, "just a sec," he was gone.

You'd looked around for a moment, completely abandoning whoever it was that had asked you to dance, and finally spotted him walking toward the house. You ran to catch up.

"Hey, where's the fire, Red?" You'd giggled as you stumbled on the uneven ground, (more than) a little tipsy.

You'd felt the sigh, more than heard it when he stopped walking, and your brow furrowed. "You okay, Bruiser?" You'd asked gently.

"Yeah..." He'd said without turning around.

"Doesn't seem like 'yeah,'" you'd observed, walking around to face him. "What's up?"

"Nothin'. 'm just tired. Gonna head in early." He wouldn't meet your eyes. You were too buzzed to notice. Instead, you saw an opportunity.

Privacy was perfect! Exactly what you needed for what you had planned! "Great! I'll come with you!" You'd chirped brightly, as he attempted to side step you. You'd touched his arm. That's all.

As your skin brushed his he turned in a flash and had you by the wrist, his expression unreadable. It didn't hurt, he'd never hurt you, but his grip was like iron, and his eyes cold as steel. You'd never seen him like this. Completely guarded.

He held your gaze, almost searching for something, before realizing what he was doing and releasing you quickly. He muttered an apology, reiterated that he was tired, and took off toward the house.

You stood there dumbfounded for several long moments, trying to process what just happened. You considered going after him, but then thought better of it. Something was wrong and it obviously had something to do with you. You being around might just make whatever this was worse. You'd spotted Splinter heading toward the house as well and decided he was better suited to tend to Raphael.

You try to think past the haze of intoxication. You can't remember doing anything that might upset him. In fact, the last time you got to actually talk was before the ceremony and things were great then. At the reception you'd asked him, practically begged him, to dance with you several times. But he was always busy with something else. With the help of your good friend Dom Pérignon, you'd practically been throwing yourself at him all evening. And every time you'd approached him he'd seemed more and more uncomfortable...

Oh.

It must be love. Because this hurts.

You'd ruined it. You'd committed the cardinal sin of catching feelings. You'd condemned yourself even more by attempting to act on them. He was pissed. You'd upset the balance, changed everything, your relationship would never be the same... and it was all your fault.

"Do you wanna hear something stupid?" You say quietly, barely able to speak over the shattering in your chest.

"Shoot," Donnie says, taking a swig from the near empty bottle.

"I think I'm in love with your brother."

Now, Donatello has never had expensive taste, and you wouldn't think an internal organ would have any opinion. But for a second there, Donnie's lungs are drinking champagne.

Coughing, sputtering, and cursing whoever first discovered fermentation, he looks down at you trying to catch his breath. It would have been hilarious if you hadn't just ruined your own life.

"And I'm pretty sure he knows and I'm pretty sure he hates me," you say, as your eyes fill with tears. "Donnie, I think I ruined everything..."

........

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos

[moodymelanist]

Step Back, Doors Closing

happy day 4 of @nessianweek everyone! AU day is one of my favorites and I hope you enjoy yet another hyperspecific nessian in DC fic haha.

Summary: Nesta has had it up to here with the guy who doesn’t understand City Rules™.

Word Count: 3.3k

Read on AO3 here!

✵✵✵✵✵✵ Nesta 

It was the second week of her highly coveted summer job, and Nesta was going to be late.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she muttered under her breath as her train took its time shuttling into Metro Center. She had another train to catch, and while normally she arrived at her station with more than enough time to catch her second train to McPherson Square, she’d overslept by just enough time to throw everything out of whack.

Nesta had just finished her second year of law school, and her firm hadn’t wasted any time in getting her started. She’d worked her ass off all year to land this position, and she wasn’t going to fuck it up so early in the summer by strolling in late like some of the other summer associates. She didn’t have a rich father or so many connections that going to law school was almost a formality; she’d put in the work to earn her spot, and she wasn’t going to let something as simple as missing her connecting train stop her from clawing her way to the top of her summer class.

Thankfully, the Red Line’s doors opened relatively quickly, and Nesta nearly ran a few unsuspecting people over as she raced through the station toward the escalators to catch whatever train was coming next. It didn’t matter if she caught a Blue, Orange, or Silver; she just needed to be on the next train, for God’s sakes.

“Excuse me!” Nesta called out as she took to the stairs at a run, her irritation already flaring at the people who just didn’t seem to understand the rules of living in a city. She loved the District, but she didn’t love just how many tourists and those unfamiliar with the Metro seemed to flock to the train during the summer. How hard was it to remember to stand on the right and leave the left clear?

Everyone seemed to get with the program except for one massive guy who was standing on the left side of the escalator without recognizing the dirty looks being thrown at him from behind. Nesta didn’t have time to wait for him to get with the program, though, so she yelled even louder, “Hey! Hi! Excuse me!” 

“Huh?” The guy turned and looked over one of his very muscular shoulders, his hazel eyes widening slightly at the look on Nesta’s face. He had just enough of a drawl to suggest he wasn’t from around here, but Nesta was far too worried about missing her train to take in just how good-looking he was or how much she liked the accent on his lips. “Sorry, ma’am. Let me get out of your way.” 

“Thanks,” Nesta told him as he moved his frankly massive body to the right, finally giving her the opening she needed to sprint down the rest of the escalator. She had to shove her foot into the door to stop it from closing on her, but by the grace of whatever god was listening she managed to make it inside the train just before it left.

“Fucking idiot tourists,” Nesta muttered under her breath, practically collapsing into her seat as she caught her breath. She absolutely hated running for the train, especially around those who didn’t know any better. Hopefully she wouldn’t run into the guy again.

Besides, did she really look that old to be called ma’am? What a dick.

✵✵✵✵✵✵

The rest of Nesta’s week was thankfully uneventful commute-wise, and she was very grateful that she didn’t have to sprint through Metro Center looking like an idiot at eight thirty in the morning again. 

Nesta’s luck didn’t hold forever, though. Nearly two weeks later, she’d stayed out later than usual the night before because of a networking dinner, and pressing snooze one too many times on her alarm led to her jumping out of bed with a series of curses so vulgar her mother was probably rolling in her grave at how unladylike all of it was. 

Nesta rushed through the fastest shower of her life, somehow managing to make herself presentable in twenty minutes before she hauled ass out the door to get to Cleveland Park. She thankfully had enough time to drink a cup of coffee and take another to go before she left her apartment, but all the coffee in the world couldn’t prepare her for how the rest of her morning was going to play out.

“Excuse me! Excuse me! Jesus fucking Christ, excuse me!” Nesta snapped, already out of patience with it all as she maneuvered her way off her first train and downstairs to the other half of the station. To add insult to injury, one of the escalators was apparently having some kind of issue, so instead of the two going down and one going up, there was only one of each.

Of course this was happening on what was already a very shitty morning. At the sound of a train approaching on the lower level, Nesta tightened her grip on her coffee and hauled ass to make it to the working escalator, ready to make that train come hell or high water. She would’ve made it too, if not for the giant wall of muscle that was once a-fucking-gain taking up a truly ridiculous amount of room on the escalator. Despite her increasingly loud calls of excuse me, the man didn’t move out of her way until just in time for the doors to shut right in front of Nesta’s quickly reddening face.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Nesta practically snarled under her breath, her chest heaving from her now-pointless sprint. Before she could stop herself, she whirled around to face the man responsible, clutching her thermos so tightly it was a miracle the material didn’t crumple under her hand. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry?” he replied after a second. Today he had on a pale blue polo tucked into a pair of darker navy slacks, and she hated how good he looked in the outfit when all she wanted to do was rip his head off. 

“You made me miss my fucking train,” she continued, really working up steam now, “because you’re apparently incapable of remembering what side of the escalator to stand on. So I ask again: what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m not from around here,” the man responded after a moment, at least having the decency to look a little sheepish as he stared down at Nesta. He had a badge clipped through one of his belt loops that said Cassian. “We don’t have public transit like this back home. I’m used to driving everywhere.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you have back home,” she snapped. The next train was coming in three minutes, so she had plenty of time to tell this Cassian about himself before she made it into the office. “You’re not in fucking Kansas anymore. Get with the goddamn program.”

“It’s Texas, actually,” Cassian answered, apparently completely unruffled by her outburst. It only made her want to lash out at him more, but judging by the amusement twinkling in his eye, she wasn’t totally sure that would be a problem for him.

“It’s an expression,” Nesta hissed. God, she needed more coffee; the stuff she had clearly wasn’t strong enough to deal with this idiot, but it didn’t stop her from taking a healthy swallow from her thermos. “Surely they have those back home.”

“We have plenty of things back home,” he replied cheerfully, though she suspected it probably fell into that faux-Southern kindness she’d heard about before. “Including manners. And politeness.”

“If you want that so bad, then maybe you should fuck back off to Texas,” she retorted. She looked down to her feet and was incredibly thankful that the lights on the edge of the platform had started flashing, signaling the next train was about a minute away. “We do things a little differently on the East Coast.”

“Yep,” Cassian told her, the amusement fading from his eyes. She felt a vicious burst of satisfaction as a hint of annoyance began to creep into his voice. “I’m beginning to see that.”

“So you are capable of learning,” Nesta said just as her train pulled into the station. She turned over her shoulder to give him one last icy look before she boarded her train, adding, “Keep up the good work.”

✵✵✵✵✵✵

By the time Nesta made it back to Metro Center after work, she was more than ready to complete her commute in peace. Her feet hurt, she was nursing a low-grade headache, and all she wanted was to change into her most comfortable pajamas and maybe throw on a face mask while she caught up on Interview With the Vampire. Maybe the universe would be kind for once and actually let her.

It seemed the universe was hell-bent on ruining her day, though, because there weren’t any seats available on the train back to Shady Grove. Nesta sighed heavily, trying to convince herself she was completely fine with standing the entire way back to Cleveland Park; her shoes were killing her, and she’d forgotten to charge her AirPods before she’d left work for the day, but it was fine. Totally, completely, and one hundred percent fine.

“You want to sit down?”

Nesta looked up from where she’d been reading something on her phone, unable to come up with a coherent response as she realized it was the guy from earlier – Cassian, who was still looking way too good in his blue outfit. 

“What?” Nesta replied, her brain not completely firing on all cylinders after the day she’d had.

“I said, did you want to sit down?” Cassian repeated. He was sitting nearly directly across from her in one of the seats right by the doors, and he’d already started to pick up his backpack like he fully intended to get up.

Of course he was offering her his seat out of some misguided sense of chivalry. At any other time, Nesta would’ve rolled her eyes and told him to fuck off, that she could stand up just fine; after the last few weeks, though, the worst part wasn’t even that he’d offered. 

It was that she was considering taking it. 

“Just—” Cassian began, looking more and more exasperated the longer Nesta stared at him like he had two heads. “Just let me do this. Okay?”

“Why?” Nesta asked, suspicious. 

“I know I fucked up this morning,” he answered. God, that drawl shouldn’t be as attractive as it was; Nesta cursed her tired brain for liking the sound of his voice even more than usual. “And a lot of other mornings, if we’re being honest. Can this be a minor peace offering?”

Nesta weighed her options as the train began slowing down. On the one hand, sitting down would be amazing, but on the other, she didn’t know if she wanted to let this weird thing she had with Cassian go just quite yet. Still, her feet were hurting, so she just sighed and told herself it didn’t have to mean a single, goddamned thing, even though she knew the truth.

“Fine,” Nesta finally agreed. Cassian hopped up so she could sit down just as the train came to a stop at Farragut North, and she absolutely didn’t notice the way his arm muscles flexed as he reached up to grab the railing above him. “I still don’t like you, though.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Cassian responded. A satisfied little smile appeared on his lips, and she had to focus somewhere else before she did something stupid like think about totally dropping her grudge because of how good-looking he was. “I hope you weren’t too late for whatever you were rushing off to.”

“My summer associate position is more than just ‘whatever I was rushing off to,’” she replied, too tired from her long day to do more than roll her eyes at him. 

“Summer associate, huh?” he fired back. He seemed appropriately impressed, so maybe he knew some lawyers. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did; this was DC, after all. “What law school are you at?”

“Georgetown,” she answered. She wasn’t totally sure why she was telling him this, but hopefully it wouldn’t come back to bite her in the ass somehow later. She wouldn’t mind if he came back to bite her in the ass, but she viciously shoved that thought out of her mind; now was so not the time. “I’m starting my last year of law school in the fall.”

“That’s nice,” he told her, somehow managing to pack the words with a ridiculous amount of… something. He waited for the train to stop and keep going onto the next stop before adding, “Real nice. I’m on the Hill this summer.”

“You and half the city,” she retorted. If you lived in the District for longer than thirty seconds, you’d meet someone who worked on the Hill. “I hope you don’t think that makes you special.”

“If you think I’m special, then I’ll take it.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. I can just tell what you’re thinking.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Nesta said, thoroughly ignoring the grin on Cassian’s face. “Don’t tell me you’re working for that piece of shit Ted Cruz.”

“What do you take me for?” Cassian said back with a roll of his pretty eyes. “Not everybody from Texas is a bigot, sweetheart. I’m working for someone with sense, thank you very much.”

“I don’t think you want to know what I take you for,” she replied dryly. 

He just laughed, the sound somehow making her feel a little less frazzled after a shitty day. “I’d ask you, but I don’t want a situation on the Metro.”

“And what kind of situation would that be?” she asked, raising one of her eyebrows. 

“The kind you don’t talk about in polite company,” he responded. His gaze turned just heated enough to make her force herself not to squirm; she was incredibly thankful that most of the people getting on and off the train had headphones in. 

“You think I’m polite now?” she questioned, not quite willing to cede control of the conversation. 

“Nah,” he replied with a teasing grin. “You’re something else, ma’am.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as the train finally started slowing down at Cleveland Park, gathering her belongings as she prepared to get off the train. “My name is Nesta. Not ma’am.”

“What’s wrong with someone calling you ma’am?” Cassian asked. “You don’t like a respectful man?”

“I’ll let you figure that out, Cassian,” she told him just before she got off the train, making a point of using his first name. Maybe he’d be encouraged to do the same. “Don’t make me miss my train again.”

If Cassian had a reply, Nesta didn’t hear it before the doors shut and the train continued onward. As she walked back to her apartment, she half wondered where he lived; she hadn’t seen him on her way home until today, and half of her hoped it wouldn’t become a habit. 

The other half of her almost hoped he would.

✵✵✵✵✵✵

Nesta went another few days without seeing Cassian, and then on a fateful Wednesday morning, she spied him standing in the middle of the lower platform with his head on a swivel. She was suddenly and immensely thankful that she hadn’t had to run for the train at all today because of how handsome he looked this morning. He had on a white collared shirt tucked into a pair of dark gray slacks, and she of course noticed the way his muscles were straining against the fabric even with the short sleeves. 

Remember how bad he is at taking public transportation, she told herself as she stepped off the escalator.  God, she wished she’d brought more coffee with her to keep her head in the goddamned game. Remember how he made you miss your train. It doesn’t matter how hot he is. 

All of that went out the window the second Cassian opened his mouth, but Nesta wasn’t as upset about it as she probably should’ve been. He really was hot.

“Hey, Nes,” Cassian said. Nesta realized he was holding a large cup of what was probably coffee, packaged nicely in a dark blue thermos. “I, uh… got you this.”

“What is… this?” Nesta questioned. They had another few minutes before their respective trains came into the station, so she supposed she might as well entertain him a little. It had absolutely nothing to do with how hopefully he was smiling at her.

“Coffee,” he answered, taking a step closer. His cologne smelled way too good and she had to actively stop herself from face planting into the side of his neck to take a deeper whiff. She should’ve never taken that goddamn seat; she was folding faster than a house of cards. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I just got something with caramel in it. Hope you got a sweet tooth.”

“Why would I accept coffee from a stranger?” She asked, mostly to watch him squirm. She didn’t know how he’d guessed about her sweet tooth — or how he’d managed to pick the one morning she’d run out of coffee and hadn’t been able to make her usual two cups — but once she was done needling him, she was going to chug the entire thing. 

“Because it’s good coffee?” he replied. “And I think we’re beyond being strangers, sweetheart.”

“Right,” she responded slowly, making sure he could feel how incredulous she found the entire situation. “How do I know you didn’t poison it?” 

Cassian made a big show of twisting off the lid and taking a sip, somehow managing to do that all and swallow without breaking eye contact. It was unfairly hot and he definitely knew it, judging by the little smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. “Better?”

“Fine,” Nesta grumbled, reaching out her hand and wiggling her fingers expectantly. “Let’s see how good this really is.”

Cassian snapped the top back on and handed the thermos over without comment, the cup warm in her hand as he passed it over. Once she got the top open she performed the same trick he had, very much enjoying the way his eyes went a little wide as she brought the thermos to her lips and swallowed. The coffee was good, maybe not as sweet as she may have preferred, but still good all the same. 

“Well?” Cassian asked expectantly. “What do you think?”

“It’s fine,” Nesta answered, taking another sip. “Could be sweeter.”

“Knew you had a sweet tooth, Nes,” he replied smugly. “Just something about you.”

“I just like sugar,” she told him with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“About you being sweet?” he retorted with a knowing grin. “Never that. I like my ladies meaner than a two-headed snake.”

“…Right,” she said, not totally sure what to say back to that. Was that some kind of compliment? Judging by the way he was looking at her, maybe it was supposed to be. “Is that a Texas thing?”

“Nah,” he said back, still grinning. It was really ridiculous how nice of a smile he had. “Just a Cassian thing.”

“I take back what I said before,” she responded with a huff of laughter. She didn’t think she’d ever been hit on in this way before, and it was certainly memorable. “You are special. Definitely something wrong up there.”

“As long as you know what you’re getting into, sweetheart,” he retorted. 

“And what would that be?” Nesta questioned, raising her voice as both of their trains began approaching the station. 

“Let me take you out for a proper dinner and you can find out,” Cassian fired back without missing a beat.

Nesta studied him for a few seconds, finding nothing but earnestness in those hazel eyes she liked so much, and decided to take a chance. “Fine, but only if we drive.”

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @fieldofdaisiies | @goddess-aelin | @c-e-d-dreamer | @talkfantasytome | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @sv0430 | @talibunny30 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @champanheandluxxury | @lilah-asteria | @burningsnowleopard | @sayosdreams | @readskk | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @bellaful08 | @readergalaxy | @podemechamardek | @pearlfortears | @nerdperson524 | @jmoonjones | @kale-theteaqueen | @autumnbabylon | @hiimheresworld | @illyrianshadowhunter | @dustjacketmusings | @live-the-fangirl-life | @that-little-red-head | @sweet-pea1 | @brieq | @queercontrarian | @jsmelodies | @afflicted-with-wanderlust

[ely--sia]

velvet ring

contents: unreliable narrator!geto suguru x reader; modern au, fluff, geto is the most unreliable narrator ever words: 1.5k warnings: none

it’s late june, the beginning of an endlessly hot summer. hot, hot sunlight streams through the deep, bright green of the summer leaves, and the ringing sound of cicadas cuts through the humid summer of tokyo like a hot knife against cool butter. it’s almost too hot to breathe. still, suguru makes his way to his part-time job, a cold can of coffee in his left hand and his phone in his right. he never really liked coffee, but he likes the cool of it in his hand. he feels each drop of condensation on the cool metal, rubbing it away with his thumb before shaking all the water off. he cracks it open and takes a sip. 

he remembers again why he never liked coffee. still, he swallows it down with a grimace and glances down at his phone.

today’s a thursday, and his classes end early on thursdays. he’ll make it to his part-time job, the one at the old kissaten, by midday. then, when he finishes at five, he’ll have thirty minutes for a quick dinner before making his way to his other job. 

a heavy sigh leaves suguru’s lips. 

it isn’t because he’s tired. yes, he is tired—he would be lying if he said he wasn’t—but it’s a good kind of tired that leaves his bones singing. it’s the kind of tired that he knows will be worth it in the end. besides, he’s used to work. coming up to tokyo from the countryside for university, working multiple part-time jobs is nothing foreign to him. to suguru, money isn’t some kind of commodity; it’s something that needs to be worked for and earned (even though gojo disagrees), and his body has long become used to late nights and achy muscles. 

no, suguru sighs because he’ll finish at 11 tonight, and he doesn’t know what excuse to tell you this time. you don’t know about him working, and, if all goes well, it will stay that way. he hopes that you’ll turn in early tonight and that by the time you call him the next morning, all worried and apologetic for not checking in, he’ll be able to reassure you that he got back home before nine and spent the entire night studying. he will melt at your sweetness, then turn solid and bitter at the ashy lie on his tongue. but he can’t help it. suguru doesn’t like lying to you, but he can’t avoid it this time.

the truth is, he’s saving up to buy you a gift, and he knows you won’t like that he’s working multiple jobs to get it for you. but it’s something that he wants to do, just because he can. you’re too sweet, too concerned for his well-being to understand. in fact, he can almost see it, your exasperated sighs and furrowed brows as you scold him for doing something so meaningless, insisting that you would’ve been fine without it (but you will still take it, and you will still trace it softly with your fingers every now and then, and to suguru, there is all the meaning in the world in that). he would simply laugh and smooth your furrowed brows with his thumbs, holding your face gently in his hands. he would look down at you with a gaze oozing with so much love that he secretly fears that it might drown you. and as always, he would tell you that a small ‘thank you’ is all he needs (it really is; really, it’s a lot more than what he needs, but he’ll still take it and hide it selfishly under his tongue, savoring it again and again and again until not even the bare bones of your words are left).

his silly lover. his sweet, sweet lover.

his heart flutters, and he can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips.

the summer heat doesn’t feel so unbearable anymore.

—

two months pass, and summer is almost over. suguru has finally saved up enough to buy your gift. he holds the small, white bag tightly in his sweaty hands. he hopes you like it, but if you don’t, suguru will just try again and again and again until he finally finds something that you do like. hopefully even love. to him, it doesn’t sound half bad.

“i got this for you,” he says, taking your hand and folding your fingers around the rope handles of the bag. this way, you’ll have to take it.

inside it is a gold necklace with a small, moon-shaped charm. it glints brilliant and white in the warm light of suguru’s home, and it captivates you. it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, much less owned.

“suguru…” you start, but you don’t know what to say next. 

luckily, you don’t have to say anything. suguru knows you like the back of his own calloused hand. 

“don’t worry,” he says, “i saw it on the way here. i thought it would look nice on you. it’s nothing too expensive.”

this is a lie, of course. really, suguru knew it would look good on you two months ago, when he first saw it in the window of a jewelry shop at the department store. but he would never let you know that.

you stare at the necklace for a moment, and suguru stares at you. he watches as you try to find the right words to say, gaze shifting from the necklace, then to him, then to the necklace, then back to him again. a warm sense of pride rises inside him, and he can barely hide the smile on his face now. 

“do you like it?” he grins, “i’ll put it on for you.”

he grasps the ends of the necklace and moves behind you to do the clasps. his fingers brush against the soft, untouched skin of your neck, and he is a teenage boy again, praying that his sins go unnoticed by the gods. as he does this, you turn your head back to look up at him. there’s a sweetness spilling through his ribs and it’s almost too much. his chest squeezes tight, lest any of his heavy, heavy love spills onto you. when he finishes, he turns you around to get a good look. 

ah. 

you look beautiful. 

he knew it.

“thank you so much,” you say, “really. thank you. i don’t know how to–”

“if you like it, then that’s all that matters,” suguru cuts you off with a wide smile. 

he doesn’t understand why you thank him so profusely—you deserve more than just a necklace after all (would his entire being be enough? would you take him if he begged you to?)—but he’ll still savor it. the words that fall from your lips are even sweeter than he had ever imagined words could be, and he never wants you to thank anyone else ever again. he’s a selfish, selfish man. will you ever understand?

he would buy you a thousand more necklaces. he would love the world for you (hatred is easy; finding love for such an ugly, powerless thing is much harder, suguru thinks). you only need to ask. all you ever need to do is ask. 

“but it looks really expensive,” you look up at him with concern. 

“i told you, it was nothing,” he hums, praying that you don’t question him any further. lying to you doesn’t come so easily, and after two months of it, he doesn’t know if he can bear to tell you another.

you look into his eyes, searching for even a hint of a lie. 

suguru holds his breath. 

he will never let you know the truth. you’d hate it. maybe even hate him. it would be far too much of a burden, especially for a necklace. he loves in a way that is suffocating and thick and heavy, and he is afraid that you might realize it for yourself one day. so he will keep the truth, and the barely-there ache in his muscles that comes with it, hidden for himself, tucked away deep inside the space between his heart and his lungs, and you will never have to know. and when you are gone—and he is sure you will be some day, finally tired of just how honey-thick his love is—he will replay this exact feeling until it fades away completely from his memory.

finally, you break out into a wide grin, and suguru’s world becomes a little brighter than before. his arms move to hold you as you bury your face into his chest. despite his age, he still finds his face growing hot, praying that you don’t hear how fast his heart beats. a small part of him even worries that you might even feel his thoughts through his skin, but he pushes that silly thought away. 

“thank you so much,” you laugh, “i love it.”

your laugh rings through his chest, and, just for a moment, he is cleansed of the heavy, leaden feeling inside. thick, black tar turns into flowing water. 

oh. maybe you do understand—have understood, for a long time now. still, you are here.

he chuckles. 

his silly lover. his sweet, sweet lover. 

“i’m glad.”

-

-

-

-

a/n: geto is an unreliable narrator and you don't think of this of him, but he doesn't know that :(( sugu thinks his love is the opposite of what he thinks love should be like (whimsical, light, etc. etc.) :(( and that it's only a matter of time before u realise it and leave him ;(( he's too sweet that's y he's like this my baby

but i dont really like this one ill try better next time <33

[may--hawk]

no love but here

Forty years after the holy water incident, Aziraphale and Crowley still haven’t spoken. That is, until they come to on the floor of an unfamiliar cottage and are presented with a very specific conundrum by their superiors. “Excuse me, what?” Aziraphale says. Beelzebub stares at him like he’s stupid. “You two got a month.” They look between him and Crowley. “Yeah? One of you’s got to kill the other one, or both of you die.” “Oh, and you can’t leave,” Gabriel says. “Equalizes the playing field. We’re really looking forward to this, you know.” “We?” “All of Heaven.” “And all of Hell. So don’t muck it up, Crowley,” Beelzebub sneers.

“How on earth do they expect us to kill each other without weapons, anyway?” Aziraphale says.

Crowley grins, and in an instant, he’s transformed, or perhaps revealed, teeth sharpening and crowding to fill his mouth, nails lengthening and darkening into claws. He snarls, familiar face turned threatening and monstrous.

Aziraphale gives him a look. “I hardly see how that’s fair,” he says, primly. “What do I have?”

“Y’know, your whole big strong guardian thing,” says Crowley promptly.

“What am I going to do, sit on you?”

Crowley’s eyebrows shoot up, and all the claws and teeth, combined with that expression, make him look foolish, a monster surprised. Aziraphale feels such a rush of - something - that it makes him nearly breathless. He hopes it doesn’t show on his face, but something certainly seems to, because Crowley cocks his head a bit, then lets the enhancements slip away, until he’s just Crowley again, nothing daemonic about him. They stare at each other. The fire crackles in the fireplace. It would almost be merry, if they weren’t trapped here, under a death sentence.

Continue reading on AO3.

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Aziraphale/Crowley, Beelzebub/Gabriel

Tags: Fuck or die, there was only one blanket, early 20th-century, God's a gambler at heart

@goodomensafterdark

@benjamental an infinite number of thanks, as always, for the beta!

[shadowkira]

Me: has a cancer scare and admits this to coworkers in case I need to leave the front desk (I'm a receptionist) to take or make phone calls.

A month later, during a meeting with my supervisor: So, this is coming from a place of concern... your coworkers are concerned how your personal life is impacting work.

Me: ???

My supervisor: Well, apparently you came into work and immediately made a phone call?

Me: There was absolutely no one in the lobby, no one in exam rooms. Nothing happening. I had to call to schedule two appointments after being in the HOSPITAL on black Friday because I potentially have cancer... I couldn't call after I got discharged from the hospital because it was after 5pm on a Friday and holiday???

My supervisor: You couldn't call from home?

Me: I sleep up until I come in for work and believe it or not, am not sleeping due to stress. I went into an exam room, told the coworker where I would be if she needed me. And this is the SISTER of the woman I had to come to you about harassment complaints. But it's "coming from a place of concern."

Ended up having to have a discussion with my supervisor AND practice manager about this incident and the individual who just blatantly wasn't doing her job. The supervisor likes to shit talk with her about other employees. :)

Months later, my supervisor during another meeting... After I told her that we're all burnt out and mentioned how burnt out I feel inside and outside of the practice.

"And do you think that's impacting your work?"

Me: No???

Recently, my supervisor when multiple people voice concerns that an employee hasn't finished training by the end of August when she was meant to be fully trained by the last week of May: "Well, you don't know about her life outside of work-"

😐

[trans-xianxian]

going to the zoo w my coworkers tomorrow I'm so excited.... social outing with people who I'm not already close with successfully willingly invited to. I'm going to be sooo friendly and charming

[gloriousmonsters]

watched the moominvalley AND 90s anime takes on the Last Dragon back to back earlier and I'm still so fucked up emotionally

[neverendingford]

.

[vanibear]

we have now reached the stage of family vacation where i have a meltdown

[parasolids]

i am having a genuine core memory type of bad day today like serious SERIOUS things are going down and i missed a flight because genuine life changing events are happening and got put on standby for another which got delayed multiple times til i would’ve missed my connecting flight home and anyways it was overbooked so i didn’t make it on, and then now five hours after they left me at the airport im finally heading home and i was like “well at least i can eat the fries i bought that i didn’t get to eat yesterday” but my useless cousin who has not only been completely useless through this weeks long ordeal but has also been making things worse stepped in and ate the whole giant box of fries cause he “thought we were leaving” even though my mom clearly left half her stuff behind at the house and told him we did not make our flight so she was going to stay in town and try and get me home and also this whole situation (except for the fries) is straight up my fault cause i didn’t wanna get out of bed for 20 minutes when we woke up and like normally this would be fine especially since i went to bed at 2 am packing suitcases and then had to wake up at 7 and also slept super poorly anyways but i still have no self discipline and everything has gone wrong because of that

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your boyfriend buys you a pretty golden necklace with his initials, not knowing it will only intensify the urge to claim you as his own in every way.

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, gojo early 30’s). possessive. talks of marriage. unprotected. breēding kink; crēampies. jealousy. pregnancy kink? reader gets called ‘baby, sweetheart, mama’ not proofread; excuse the grammar. wc: 1.7k

“look at that, baby,” satoru coos as he watches the golden necklace bounce around your collarbone with each wet thrust. it’s a 24k pure gold necklace he purchased just today, with his initials on it.

something inside him stirred the moment he put it on you. satoru couln’t help himself from pinning you to the couch and claiming you as his own for the nth time. it doesn’t matter how many times he fucks you; it’s never enough.

the letters ‘sg’ are shimmering under the light of the living room. the older man is grinning from ear to ear, nearly cumming from the sight of you wearing that necklace alone. it’s a sign of possession to him. you’re his—you’re only his. he’s the only one who can touch you like this.

“shit, ‘t makes me wanna put a ring on it,” satoru hisses, one of his hands pressing down on your lower tummy. you gasp and clutch at his broad back, nails digging into his flesh quite painfully. “i think i’d engrave my initials on the inside of the ring too, what do ya think?”

each word is punctuated with a thrust. his hips are non-stop ramming into yours, claiming even the deepest spots of your body beneath him. he leans down to trail kisses down your sensitive neck, eliciting a couple whines from your lips.

“d’y wanna get married, sweetheart?” the sudden proposal takes you off guard. you can’t believe satoru would ask such a thing while being balls deep inside you. you’re blabbering nonsense, your voice muffled due to the saliva building up in your mouth.

“m— married? babe, are you ser-” your question is left unanswered as your boyfriend kisses your plump lips. he switches to a slow and gentle pace, grinding into your needy cunt until it leaves you shaking. his fingers play with the golden jewelry around your neck.

a necklace will do. as long as you’ll wear that accessory from this day forward, he’ll be satisfied. the urge to make you his forever partner could be satiated. for now, that is. he knows you still have a bright future ahead of you, like getting your degree and first ever proper job.

“let’s have you finish university first, yeah?” satoru smiles down at you after detaching his lips from yours. he watches the string of saliva hang between your mouths, giving a short hum once it snaps. his big hand slithers down to cup your breast and knead it, kissing your nipple whilst holding eye contact, “i can wait for you.”

satoru sighs as he rolls his tongue around your hardened nipple. he’s drooling over your breasts, a drunken glint in his eyes. he’s so obsessed with you to the point that he’d marry you right now if he could. that proposal wasn’t a joke—but he figured that it also wasn’t the smartest.

he’ll give you a proper and serious proposal one day. though, now you know for sure that he’s gotten into this relationship with the thought of actually marrying you.

“but i also—fuck—can’t wait,” satoru whines, feeling your walls clamp down on his thick cock. his dick is pulsing with need, exploring your squishy insides while his balls prepare to release all semen stored right into your fertile womb. even if you may take a pill to get rid of any unwanted consequences, the thought of seeing your tummy swell with his child is making the older man go insane.

satoru buries his face between your breasts and breathes heavily against your sweaty skin. his hips move with renewed vigour, his energy never depleting when it comes to pleasuring you, “wanna make you my wife ‘n breed this pretty pussy.”

you moan repeatedly, unable to stop yourself. especially after satoru frantically spews such lewd words. he’s getting lost in your cunt and the way it’s swallowing him in—into your pretty pussy that he owns. his pussy.

“wanna be your wife so bad, ‘toru,” you hiccup, nearly crying from the intense pleasure. you’d love to be satoru’s wife. he already treats you so well while you’re his girlfriend, you can’t imagine how much better it’s going to get once you’re officially his. your stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of being able to call him your husband.

the white-haired man chuckles. his blue eyes stare down at you with nothing but love, “yeah? mh, i’ll treat you so well every single day. g’nna come home to you ‘n give you some proper loving.”

satoru can already imagine it. coming home to you after a long day of work, needing a quick release. seeing you greet him at the door will send him into a frenzy. especially if you’re wearing an apron—he’s a sucker for domestic stuff.

you, his wife, taking care of him after a rough day at work. . . it’s a dream come true. he’ll spoil you with materialistic gifts and his unending love so you’ll live a happy life.

oh, don’t get him started on kids. satoru ruts into you like his life depends on it, the hypnotising rhythm of your boobs jiggling in circles is making him drool. having a little family with you is his end goal. you’ll be such a good mother and he’ll be such an amazing dad; a perfect combination.

satoru can already picture the amount of times he’ll dump his cum inside of you, without any restrictions. without you taking a pill or him wrapping a condom around his dick. his libido is going to be at an all time high when the time comes.

even if satoru ages a bit, he’s sure that he’s going to be able to have sex with you non stop. you get him hard without fail every single time. you’re his everything—the apple of his eyes.

your lover nearly chokes on his own saliva. he pushes his cock in to the base, burying it as deep as possible. your fingers curl around the pillow you’re holding for support, your eyes rolling back. his pink tip hit the right spot. that sweet spot that makes you cum without fail.

satoru bites his bottom lip. the way he’s looking at you, with a possessive kind of love and lust, is simply too much. his oceanic eyes are glimmering with need. erotic images flash through his mind of him impregnating you, “going to put a baby into you as soon as you’re ready.”

your tummy fills with butterflies. the way he’s talking to you like you’re already a married couple is making your pussy even wetter than it already is. it’s like it’s begging satoru to give it to you already—to make it store all his cum.

his eyes roll back as he leans his forehead against your shoulder. he has to hold himself back from cumming too soon. he wants to cherish every second spent inside of your warm body. satoru attaches his lips to your breasts again, “mhhh, y’re gonna look so beautiful pregnant, mama. those tits of y’rs. . .”

his voice is barely audible because he’s busy sucking on your nipples. your boyfriend is imagining the pair growing with each semester, filling out perfectly to store milk for the baby.

satoru cannot wait to be the reason why your body will change so much. you’ll be even prettier than you already are, that he can tell already. he’s going to give you gifts every day, to thank you for carrying his child. he’s going to spoil you rotten because you deserve it and so much more.

he can’t wait for the married life with you. many men dread that life, but that’s not the case with satoru. every day of his married life will be spent with his wife—you—and the honeymoon phase will never end. ever.

satoru’s cock is twitching and begging for the much needed release. he pounds you into the couch until you’re screaming in pleasure, feeling him so deep inside you. he’s so big, he’s stretching you out so well to the point of no return. the older man grins at the sight of your already fucked out face, “cunt ‘s gonna be so swollen because of how much i’ll pleasure her—paint her all white with my cum.”

satoru’s nasty words are causing unspeakable things to your body. you’re on the brink of reaching that euphoric state. the dirty talk is too much to handle at this point. your limbs are tingling and your cunt is aching to be stuffed full of his hot semen.

“s-satoru, don’t say such stuff,” you comment in a shaky breath. your head is spinning and your hands desperately reach out to hold onto his shoulders, squeezing the skin. your hips are bucking up lightly, your clit bumping against satoru’s pelvic area with each thrust, “i’m gonna cum if you keep saying that.”

your lover’s grin widens even more. he knows you enjoy it when he whispers such dirty stuff in your ear. that’s mainly the reason why he does it. he’s talked you through multiple orgasms before—it’s quite easy to do so with his husky voice and manly touch.

“that’s fine, baby,” satoru coos and leaves one last, sloppy kiss on your nipple before leaning in to attach his lips to yours. his tongue swirls around yours as you share your spit, the mixture trickling down your chins.

his hips don’t stop. he positions his lower body in an angle that gets you screaming for mercy, which he won’t do. he craves to ruin you on his cock, to see you melt with pleasure underneath him.

“make a mess on my dick while i make a mess inside of you,” satoru encourages you which seals the deal. your body shakes as you feel the waves of pleasure run through your system. you can feel hot ropes of cum nestle deep inside of your cunt. your boyfriend shudders at the sensation and helps you ride your climax out.

he pushes in and back out a few times, lazily, his finger finding your clit to rub until you’ve calmed down. “good girl. y’ took all of it, hm? lovely,” satoru nearly collapses on top of you after the energy leaves his body, careful not to crush you underneath his weight.

he doesn’t bother to pull out. he keeps his cum plugged into you—relishing the moment of ecstasy. even if he can’t fully breed you now, he’ll wait until the day he can.

“i love you, wifey,” satoru kisses your temple, tiredly giggling at the nickname he gave you. in his mind, you are already his one and only woman.

his wife and partner for life.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[filmstarved]

i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he���s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 

ease and silence…and love.