#you all i’m getting scared of what’s coming for us next

[janiehellion]

Falling Deep

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl Dixon was a quiet but curious young man—shy, inexperienced, and way more innocent than you’d expect. It was just you, him, and... a vibrator.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: VIRGIN!DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / LANGUAGE / ORAL FIXATION / CUNNILINGUS / SEX TOYS / DRUGS & ALCOHOL / NON-CON ELEMENTS

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.925

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: PRE-APOCALYPSE—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @dixongrimesgirl

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Thank you for your patience! I know it’s been a long wait, and I can only hope it was worth it. This might not be exactly what you had in mind when you sent in the request, but I hope you enjoy it.

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

The Chattahoochee was a whole different level of disgusting, even for a bar so close to the deep woods of Georgia. Low ceilings, broken lights, and the smell of piss and beer were present in every corner. Regulars stumbled in every night and day, a lot of them already drunk or high, but most of them?

Both.

It was the kind of place that was sticky no matter how much bleach you poured on it and where you could smell the bad life decisions coming from a mile away.

You worked behind the bar, pouring shots of moonshine and avoiding the greedy touches of men like it was just another part of the job. Which, in a place like this, it practically was. Located in the heart of the most godforsaken area of Georgia, it was the perfect place for the kind of people you’d rather not run into at any time.

Safe to say, Merle Dixon had been hitting on you since day one, coming at you with even worse pickup lines while high on who knows what. He'd lean over the counter, smirking, smelling like alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat. "Hey, sugar tits, gimme 'nother," he’d laugh, putting a half-torn dollar on the bar like it was supposed to impress you.

"Watch the damn language, Dixon, or that’ll be your last drink for tonight," you’d answer, not even looking up as you poured him another shot.

"Hey, c'mon now," he’d answer you, "don't be like that. Ya know ya wanna gimme a shot at somethin’ else, don't ya?" He'd grin further, which seemed more lustful than charming, his eyes staring at your tits like they belonged there at all times.

You'd roll your eyes and shove the glass across the bar with a little more force than necessary. "In your damn dreams, Dixon. And keep your damn eyes up here, or I’m gonna rip ‘em outta your damn skull," you’d warn, but not entirely without sarcasm. It wasn’t the first time he behaved like that, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

Then there was Daryl, his little brother, always standing or sitting nearby, almost like a shadow, or rather, like someone who didn't belong in a place like that. He wasn’t the type to come up and throw a pickup line at you; hell, he barely spoke at all. Just stood back while Merle tried to flirt with you, as if he was embarrassed to even be there.

You’d catch Daryl looking at you with these sideways glances, his arms crossed over his chest like he was waiting for whatever bullshit his brother might do next. Or maybe he was scared, and he just had no clue what to do with a girl who would throw a bottle at someone's head and talk filthier than any man in the bar.

One night, Merle was high on meth that had his pupils blown wide, and he was drunk as always. "Y'know, darlin'," he slurred, leaning far over the bar, "I could make your night real fuckin' interestin’. Got a little somethin' else with me that’ll loosen ya up for some fun." He took out a tiny baggie—powder—white and unmistakable.

"Fuck off, Merle," you said with a smirk. "Go snort that shit somewhere else, where I don’t have to watch your annoying ass. Ain't your damn babysitter." You were used to it, but he was starting to piss you off more than usual. "And don’t even think about offering it to anyone else inside this hellhole. Last thing I need is you getting the whole damn bar high. Do that outside, with those who are probably shitting all over themselves right now."

Meanwhile, Daryl was sitting on a stool nearby, again, his eyes looking from you to his brother. You couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable he looked, the way he watched Merle and every other person around. There was always something different about him—he was quieter, more... soft. The kind of guy who stood back and kept his head down.

"Leave 'er 'lone, Merle," Daryl mumbled, more to himself than to his brother. But he seemed to be sick of the whole scene. Not that Merle ever listened, or would ever listen to him.

No, Merle just rolled his eyes before shoving the baggie back into his pocket, not even looking in the direction of his brother, keeping his focus only on you... and your tits. "Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just tryin’ to show ya a good time for once." He grabbed his drink and stumbled off, probably to piss in a bush outside, and you were left with Daryl, who still just sat there.

Some time later, you grabbed a dirty rag and started wiping the bar down, side-eyeing him. "You gonna say somethin’, or just keep sittin' there?" You teased, soon throwing the rag under the counter and pouring him another drink.

He shrugged, looking away, clearly not sure what to do with himself. "Ain’t like I could stop him if he tried anythin’," he mumbled, looking down into his glass.

"If he tried, he'd go home without his dick. Not that it'd make much of a difference for him," you said back, smirking at him and trying to get him to loosen up a bit. "You come here just to watch me shut him down every night?"

It was a half-serious question, but you knew the answer. Daryl wasn’t like the other assholes—he didn’t hit on you, didn’t try to grab your ass or tits when you passed by, and never once called you some stupid nickname like sugar tits.

"I… jus' end up 'ere," he said awkwardly, his fingers tapping down on the counter. "Ain’t got much else to do."

"Well, at least you’re not tryin’ to snort coke off my tits or ass," you answered, making him go red in the face.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat, and you couldn’t help but find it kind of adorable.

"You know, since you come here enough, Dixon 2.0," you continued, "might as well help me close up sometime and throw the rest of these assholes outta here. Would get you a drink on the house."

It was just a passing suggestion, a simple idea, but his eyes looked up, like he was considering it, and for once, he actually looked into yours. Not in that drooling, perverted way his older brother did, but with curiosity. "Maybe," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Dunno."

"You know what? Just think about it."

And so, the routine went on. Merle would walk in, and Daryl would sit nearby, quietly sipping his own drink while keeping an eye on his brother. And secretly, on you.

Tonight, though? Tonight was different. Somehow, you’d gotten him here, in your home, alone, without Merle, who was probably stinking of booze and piss all over again somewhere. His brother must have gotten his hands on something strong, or whatever it was, it gave you the perfect excuse.

You’d leaned in close while Daryl was mumbling about his brother and told him he should come over; maybe help you with something, and you told him it was important. You hadn’t even needed to lie all that much—he’d just nodded, eyes wide and nervous, and here he was, following you home like a little boy.

When he got to your place, he just stood there, all tense, and moving from one foot to the other like he didn’t know where to put himself. And you—well, you liked watching him squirm and being nervous, knowing well you were the one making him feel like that.

Daryl wasn’t even in the door for five seconds before you threw your bag on the floor, walking inside without saying anything else. No pretenses, no "make yourself at home." You didn’t bother with shit like that. If he was here, he was here on your terms, and you weren’t about to treat him like a guest.

"C’mon in," you said, standing next to the door to finally close it.

You saw him gulp, eyes looking around like he was searching for a quick exit he could use just in case, but finding nothing but trouble. So he nodded, stepping in, his shoulders hunched as he stood there, awkward as hell. Every inch of him screamed that he was nervous, but he didn’t run, not yet. You liked that about him. Quiet, sure, but still stubborn.

Meanwhile, your place was kind of a mess, clothes lying around, bottles on the tables—some empty, some half-full. A few were left over from last week, but hell, you weren’t cleaning for anybody, especially not for him. Daryl didn’t seem to mind, though; if anything, he looked like he was trying hard not to stare around too much, eyes fixed somewhere over your shoulder, his face all red once more, while you kicked off those awful heels that made your feet ache.

"Go on and sit down in my room," you said over your shoulder as you turned around, smirking as you heard his quiet huff. "I'm gonna get outta these damn clothes and put on something more comfortable."

"'Kay," he muttered and nodded again, sounding like he’d swallowed his own tongue.

Once in the bathroom, you pulled off the way too tight top and short skirt in the bathroom, letting yourself breathe for once. That outfit was a real curse; your bra always felt as if it was pushing your tits all the way up to your chin, but it kept the tips flowing, so you kept wearing those clothes.

But tonight? You’d rather die than let Daryl see you in it for too long. Poor boy was already chewing the inside of his mouth and choking on his own words like he might say the wrong thing and die on the spot.

But what you didn't know was that the second you went away to change your clothes, Daryl’s hands started twitching, like his body was on alert between curiosity and unease. A few of your clothes were tossed across the bed, smelling like that bar you worked at—smoke, sweat, and alcohol. It all felt like a place he shouldn’t be at, but here he was, sitting down on your bed and touching your clothes to shove them aside.

He told himself he wasn’t snooping, just trying to figure you out as he sat there nervously. Hell, you were already a mystery to him—a tough girl working in a bar where skirts and shorts barely covered what they ought to and heels high enough to bring any man to his knees.

So here he was, and his mind started running wild, wondering if every woman’s place was like this—half-dirty, with clothes tossed around, magazines piled up, and so much more.

Then his eyes landed on a big box sitting half-shoved under your bed, an open corner poking out like it had been forgotten as his foot bumped against it. He should’ve left it alone, but there was that itch, like he couldn’t look away. Daryl crouched down, sitting down on the floor, his fingers fumbling with the top until it opened up. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he looked inside.

It was filled with... things. Smooth, soft, strange-looking things in different shapes and colors, each one making him more confused than the last.

"What's this stuff?" He whispered, eyes squinting as he picked up a small pink thing with a rounded end. It fit in his hand, smooth but with some weight to it. "This for her... work?" He mumbled, rolling it over in his hand like it might magically turn into something he recognized. Maybe it was a tool, or even one of those weird bar gadgets he didn’t know about.

Another catch of something sparkly and soft shoved down in there made his heart beat faster, and before he knew it, he was pulling out more—the things looking weirder by the second. There was a wand-looking thing, and he held it like it might explode, wondering what the hell you were doing with all this.

"Drugs? Gotta be for drugs," he muttered, frowning as he inspected the box. Could be some kind of injector, maybe? He knew about that stuff—the guys that Merle met sometimes, passing around different things for the good times. But nothing here made sense, and there wasn't any instruction manual in sight.

He looked around like you’d come back any second and catch him, heat burning inside of him as he thought about what this meant. Were you hiding something? Was it… Was it for some kind of secret thing you did when no one was around?

"Damn it, what’re ya up to?" He said, biting his lip, his hand brushing over the surface of the smooth, strange thing, feeling his pulse race at the thought that you did know exactly what these were for.

And yet he didn’t. Not a damn clue.

"Hell’s this?"

He felt a cord between his fingers, pulling it slightly, as if tugging on it might magically make it make sense. Maybe it was for listening to music? But it had no sound, and no little earbuds or anything that he could see.

Setting that one down, he picked up another—an oblong thing with ridges along one side. It looked almost like a flashlight, but there was nowhere for the light to shine from. He pressed his thumb over it, turning it this way and that, but nothing happened.

"What the hell?" It had to be for something specific. You wouldn’t just have random stuff lying around like this for no reason, would you?

Then he found another, rounder one, with a strange little button on the side. He pressed it, flinching a bit when it buzzed all of a sudden. The damn thing nearly jumped out of his hand, and he held it tight to stop the vibrations.

"Damn thing’s possessed," he nearly yelled, feeling his cheeks burn. It felt... weird. Too weird.

And you? You had barely slipped into the bathroom, taking off your work clothes and enjoying the idea of how Daryl would squirm alone for a moment in your bedroom. The way he’d stumbled his way in earlier, not wanting to make eye contact like he didn’t know what to do with his own hands? It was almost way too easy to tease him.

And there he was, practically glowing red, sitting next to the box you kept under the bed. A simple big box—hell, he was behaving so cautiously, like he’d just discovered a bomb or a dead body. But what really caught you was the thing in his hand. A vibrator.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin’ me," you whispered, loud enough for him to hear. His head moved up, eyes wide as if he’d just been caught robbing a bank.

"Shit!" The vibrator fell out of his hand, hitting the floor, but that was only the start; the thing started buzzing further—vibrating across the floor and right toward your feet. Daryl didn’t move; he didn’t even reach for it. He just sat there, staring at the buzzing vibrator like it was going to bite him.

"Gonna tell me what you’re doin’ with my stuff?" You asked, half-amused, half-teasing, waiting to see what half-assed excuse he’d come up with, as you leaned against the door frame. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out at first.

"I… uh—" he stammered, swallowing loudly, his hands fidgeting like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. "I thought… I mean—thought it was, like, stuff for..." His voice trailed off, eyes looking to the ground, too ashamed to meet yours.

"Yeah? Stuff for what?" You pressed further, stepping forward, taking the vibrator and turning it off, stopping the noise but not the look of pure mortification on his face.

"I… thought it might be, y'know... Maybe it was, uh, y’know, things for... for bar stuff, or somethin’. Yer work." His voice was quiet, like he might get in trouble just for saying it out loud.

"For work?" You laughed and crouched down to sit next to him. "Yeah, Daryl, because every bartender needs a vibrator in her kit. So… You wanna tell me why you’re snooping, or am I just supposed to guess?"

You reached over, brushing a hand along the edge of your toy box, taking in the way his eyes tried to look at each item inside. Poor boy had no clue what half of it was for, but he looked at everything like it might burn him.

"Am sorry! I wasn’t… Jus'… waitin’ on ya an' got curious, I guess," he murmured. "Didn’t mean nothin’ by it."

You leaned in closer, enough that he could probably feel your breath on his face. "Curious, huh?" You asked, eyeing the way his shoulders tensed up. "You don't know what that stuff is?"

"Uh…" He blinked, looking between you and the vibrator like it might suddenly start buzzing again. "Not… really. No."

"Oh, you really don’t?" You pretended to be surprised. "It’s a toy, Dixon. A fun toy. For women. And men sometimes as well."

"That for real?" He asked, voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

"As real as it gets, sweetheart. And judging by that look on your face, I’d bet you don’t have much experience with this sorta things." You raised an eyebrow, daring him to admit it.

He swallowed hard, his eyes dropping back to the floor. "Ain’t never… really..." He trailed off, his whole face full of embarrassment.

"Never what?" You asked, leaning in so close you could smell the cigarettes and sweat on him, and somehow, it drove you wild. "Fucked a woman? Or even fucked yourself, huh?"

"I—" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, a sound that told you everything you needed to know. "I don’t… don’t really know… how… t'do any of that."

"Oh, honey." You leaned back a little. "You look like you’re about ready to pass out."

Daryl trembled, trying to look anywhere but at you, his whole face burning. "I—I jus'… I dunno what to do with... all that," he continued, motioning awkwardly toward the box.

You smirked, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. "Guess no one’s shown you how a woman uses one of these before, huh?" You watched his reaction, loving every little deep breath he took and every embarrassed flinch.

"N-no… But what if... maybe they could've been... for, uh, drugs?" His face somehow went even more red, and he looked ready to sink into the floor.

"Drugs? What, you think I’m hiding some kind of dealer setup in my own bedroom? And especially right under my damn bed?" You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Trust me, they’ll get you high, alright—but not the way you’re thinkin’."

The embarrassment on his face was almost painful to watch as he shifted on the ground. "Like I said, I—I don't... Ain’t never done stuff like that before, okay? I—I mean, I done that with myself... sometimes. But not really... okay?"

You smiled, letting your fingers move over his, watching as his breath stopped, his eyes looking up to meet yours for a desperate second. "Well," you murmured, "maybe I could show you a thing or two. If you’re up for it, that is."

Daryl swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he glanced between you and the box again. He indeed looked like he was about to pass out, but he seemed curious—curious in a way that he couldn’t quite hide.

"Oh, c'mon, I know you want to," you whispered, clicking your tongue, standing up, and taking off your shirt slowly. His eyes looked up fast, staring at you, and he shifted on the spot, pressing his thighs together. That’s when you noticed the growing bulge in his pants—it was more than obvious he was already hard as a rock.

"Damn, Dixon," you chuckled, "you’ve got a real problem, don’t you?" You let your shirt fall down to the floor. "Hey, don’t just sit there looking lost—c’mon, no way you're that scared of undressing a woman!"

He stammered something, some half-strangled "n-no," his hands gripping his own thighs like he had to hold himself back from reaching for you. That only spurred you on, raising your brows as you grabbed him to stand up and guiding his trembling hands to the hem of your pants.

"Well, here’s your chance," you smirked, waiting for him to open the button. You watched his fingers fumble with it, shaking as he pulled down the zipper, and then, when he managed to pull your pants down over your hips along with your panties, his eyes widened like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

"Keep goin’, don't be shy," you whispered, guiding his fingers down your thighs until your clothes hit the floor.

He just stood there, staring, mouth opening like he wanted to say something but didn’t have the slightest clue what to do next. You leaned in close, eyes locked on his, before you knelt down again and took the vibrator out of the box once more, pressing the button and letting it hum.

His eyes shot to the toy, watching with pure terror and fascination, and when you pressed it into his hand again, he held it like some foreign, sacred object he was too scared to break.

"Here," you mumbled, laying down onto the bed, legs spread just enough to give him a view he couldn’t tear himself away from even if he tried, before you pulled him next to you and guided his hand between your legs, pressing the vibrator to your thigh and dragging it higher. "Just like that, Daryl. Feels interesting, doesn’t it?"

Daryl could barely breathe, staring down as if hypnotized, the muscles in his whole body tensing up. When you moved his hand to press the vibrator against your pussy, you felt him stiffen, his other hand gripping his thigh to stop himself from trembling. The toy was vibrating against you, and you let out a quiet, satisfied sigh, glancing up just in time to see the way his eyes stayed on you, watching every little twitch and shiver of your body.

"I bet you’re a quick learner," you teased, reaching down to guide his hand again, moving it with the toy so it hit just right, and damn, if it didn’t feel good. His mouth fell open a little, and he sucked in a breath when you suddenly moaned, pressing yourself harder against the vibrator. His hand moved a bit awkwardly, like he didn’t quite know if he was supposed to be touching you this way, but the look in his eyes said he wanted to keep going more than anything.

You let out another moan, a little louder this time, just to see the way he reacted. His grip on the toy tightened, and you didn’t miss the way he was fighting with himself, clearly struggling to keep himself in check as his cock pressed harder against his pants, his breath coming out faster and shorter.

"Poor thing," you whispered, pulling his hand away for a moment, just to watch him struggle. "Bet you’ve never been this hard, huh?" Daryl's eyes looked at you, wide and mortified, like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. But the look he gave you—so desperate, so needy—only made you want to push him further.

"You wanna see what this thing can do to me?" You asked, not giving him time to answer as you pressed the vibrator into his hand again and guided it back between your legs. "Just keep it steady, like that. Right there." You rocked your hips against it, letting out a shaky breath as the lust built itself up inside of you, still watching as he clung to every little sound that left your lips.

Daryl's eyes were glued to you, his mouth open, and you noticed the way he kept moving his hips, trying to get rid of his hard-on. But no matter how much he squirmed, it wasn’t enough. He was near leaking through his pants by now, his cock being so hard he couldn’t think straight, and the sight of you practically coming undone in front of him had him on the edge himself.

"Feels good, doesn’t it, Dixon? But... don't you want to feel that too?" You taunted, moving your fingers along his wrist, pushing him to press harder and the toy just a tiny bit into you, wanting to let him feel every little tremor that wracked your body. He just nodded, lost for words, breathing hard, his eyes moving between your face and the way your hips bucked against his hand.

"Keep going, just like that," you urged, and he obeyed, pressing the vibrator a little harder, his other hand softly brushing against your thigh as if he needed something to hold onto to keep himself from falling apart. His face was so close now, so flushed, eyes wide with need, lips parted as he struggled to keep his breathing steady.

"Y’know, Daryl," you moaned, "you’re doing a hell of a job for someone who’s never touched a woman before, not even with toys." His face burned, but he kept going, kept pressing that toy against your pussy, completely mesmerized by the way you reacted.

"You like watching me, don’t you?" You murmured, letting out another moan that left him swallowing hard. "Don’t think I haven’t noticed... that you can’t keep your eyes off me and how damn hard you are."

He tried to come up with a response, something about "I... I didn’t mean to..." but his words trailed off, and he was just there, helpless, utterly at your mercy, his hand tightening on the toy as you let out one last moan that left him breathless and staring, before you snatched the vibrator from him and clicked it off.

The little tremor it left in his hand was nothing compared to the way he stared at you now, still holding onto that last bit of control.

"Think you can do it without help?" You asked, grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand to your pussy and to make him feel how wet you were, his fingers twitching as they moved along your folds. Daryl nodded but was holding on for dear life and trying not to slip.

"I... I dunno," he mumbled, eyes glued to your pussy.

"Oh, for the love of... here," you growled, placing your hand over his, guiding his touch lower, rougher, until you dragged his fingers exactly where you wanted them. But Daryl was a mess, barely holding himself together, his other hand still clamped over that hard bulge in his pants as he lay there beside you.

"Now, watch closely," you instructed, pressing his fingers just the way you liked it. "Doesn’t take much, does it?" You smiled, letting your free hand move down his chest, your fingers finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. "Bet you’d come just feeling me touch you."

He whimpered, the outline of his cock pulsing through his pants, a wet spot already forming itself. It didn’t take much to notice the hesitation in his every move, making him so easy to toy with.

You leaned back a little, pushing your tits forward. "Go on and position yourself over me," you dared, and as soon as he did, you lifted his other hand from his bulge to your tits, watching as he sucked in a breath, his hand shaking as if he were holding something he had no right to touch. "Ever felt these before?"

Daryl shook his head, still wide-eyed, his eyes looking into yours for a second before dropping back down, like he was afraid to look too long.

"Then make the most of it." You reached down, pressing his other hand harder against you. "I want you to use that mouth of yours now," you smirked, pushing him down to press his lips against your nipples. His breath was warm and shaky, and he hesitated, his mouth just an inch away from you. You raised an eyebrow, daring him, and after a long, deep breath, he finally leaned in.

"That's a good boy," you praised, your fingers running through his hair, feeling him shiver under your touch. He was so damn easy to play with, each little whimper and moan only turning you on more, urging him to suck and lick, his tongue slow but eager, desperate for more.

"Gently," you ordered, glancing down to see him lose himself, his hands now touching you like he didn’t want to let go. The poor guy was panting, his eyes squeezed shut as he sucked and kissed your nipple, as if the sight alone would push him over the edge.

You soon moved your hand down, feeling the outline of his cock through his pants, feeling him flinch, his breath stopping as you gave him just a bit of what he wanted. "This what you want, Daryl?" You whispered, teasing him and squeezing his shaft just enough to make him groan, his hips bucking, desperate for more. "You do, don't you? But now, I want you to eat me out."

Daryl couldn’t even get out a response, his mouth still on your nipple, but the look in his eyes told you everything.

"Pathetic, but also really cute," you laughed, unzipping his pants just enough to reach inside, your fingers wrapping around his cock and making him gasp, his whole body tensing as you squeezed him. He was thick, hard, already wet from the pre-cum that leaked from his tip, and the way he moaned, quite high, only made you want to drag it out and tease him until he was begging to come.

As you quickly positioned yourself over his face, you could see how he was a nervous wreck the moment your ass hovered above him. "Oh, please, don’t just lay there. Get to work," you teased, lowering yourself down, your pussy brushing against his lips.

When he finally opened his mouth, it was like you flipped a switch. The moment your folds hit his tongue, he moaned, the sound muffled against you. It sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but grind against his face, pushing him harder against you.

"God, you’re a natural," you gasped, encouraging him with your hips. "Just like that, baby. Don’t be shy; use your tongue."

Daryl’s mouth worked hesitantly at first, but the more you ground down, the more confident he became. His face was buried in your pussy, the taste of you driving him wild as he licked and sucked, trying to figure out what made you feel good, and the way he looked up at you, eyes full of wonder and lust, only made you want to ride his face harder.

"Yeah, keep going," you panted, feeling your legs tremble as he finally got into a rhythm. "Good boy, just like that," you moaned, feeling the tension building inside you. He was so focused, so eager to please, and the way he hungrily licked and sucked made you see stars.

"Don’t stop, Daryl. I’m so close," you urged. "Yeah, that’s it," you moaned, pushing your hips down even harder. "Don’t you dare stop. Just like that—yes!"

The way he held your thighs, trying to hold you against him, and the way he whimpered against you—those sweet little sounds pushed you right over. "I’m cumming! Fuck!"

Your body tensed, and you ground down harder again, shaking and feeling him groan against your dripping pussy as you let go and came, completely lost in the moment.

You felt him drink it all in, and you knew he was just as lost as you were. The second you pushed yourself off his face and watched him, face red and lips parted, you could tell Daryl had no idea what to do with himself. Wide-eyed and panting, he lay there as if you’d just dragged him straight into some fever dream he wasn’t even ready for. He seemed so helpless as he tried to piece together the storm of feelings that’d just hit him.

"Still with me, Daryl?" You asked, letting your weight push him further into the bed. His eyes looked down between your legs, then looked away, like he didn’t have the courage to watch.

"Y-yeah…"

He shuddered, that helpless little whine slipping out as you leaned down, your mouth right over his. He was as stiff as a board beneath you, looking both horrified and desperately curious at the same time.

"Think you can handle more of this?" You whispered, one hand moving down and wrapping around his cock as you took it fully out of his pants.

"W-wait," he stammered, trying to close his legs in a last attempt to get some space, but you only held him tighter, giving his cock a slow, teasing stroke. It twitched in your hand, leaking all over your fingers like he couldn’t stop himself.

"Sweetie, look at you," you smiled, swirling a finger over the tip, just to watch him jerk, hips lifting up like he was begging. "So needy aren't we?"

Daryl let out another whimper, his face going beet-red, those shy eyes looking away once more as though if he didn’t look at you, he’d somehow be less mortified.

"Feels so good, huh?"

His whole body was practically trembling with need, and he was leaking—a lot. His cock throbbed in your hand, pre-cum dripping so much it smeared along your fingers.

"Damn, Daryl," you whispered, smirking as your fingers now teased along the underside of his cock. "Didn’t know you’d be this easy, really."

You soon leaned down, your mouth just over his cock; the slightest lick of your tongue along his tip pushed another bit of pre-cum out, and you couldn’t help but laugh, loving every bit of his need.

"Baby, look at you, leaking everywhere," you teased again, wiping the tip with your thumb before bringing it to your lips, licking off the taste. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, you pulled back slightly before leaning up to kiss him, letting him taste himself on your lips.

It made him moan again, his hands reaching out to grip your body as if needing to ground himself. "P-please…" He whispered, but you didn’t give in just yet.

Instead, you reached down, grabbing your vibrator again. You saw the way his eyes narrowed, with pure nervousness all over his face, as you suddenly pressed the toy to his cock, starting at the lowest setting. The buzzing made him gasp, his hips jerking involuntarily against you as you dragged the vibrator along his shaft, right along that sensitive spot just under the head. Every time it brushed up and down, he leaked more against your hand, only making it messier.

"Oh s-shit…" He whimpered, sounding utterly wrecked.

With a smirk, you leaned back and held up the vibrator for him to see, his eyes following it, dazed, and lips parted. "I think that’s enough; otherwise you might explode on the spot," you said, watching his expression drop just slightly as he looked at you switching it off and tossing it back into your toy box all of a sudden.

Leaning up, you gave his lips a slow, lazy kiss, feeling him melt against you, even more needy when you pulled away and slipped back down. And damn if he didn’t start leaking more, a fresh drop of slick pre-cum glistening right there, just begging to be tasted.

"How sweet you are, Daryl," you murmured, slowly moving your tongue along the underside of his cock, not missing the way his hips jerked up instinctively, even though he didn't seem to understand why. One gentle lick. That’s all it took for him to be close again, and he was helpless against it.

"Just relax and enjoy it," you continued, letting your tongue move along the tip of his cock and the desperate little gasp of his driving you wild as he grabbed the sheets, practically sobbing as he tried to hold back.

You wrapped your lips around just the head, barely enough to count as anything. But to him? It was like fireworks going off.

"N-no, I—oh fuck, I can’t—" He breathed out as his head fell back, his body shivering under you.

And when you took him just that tiny bit deeper, that was it—he lost it. Hard. He tried to hold it, tried to push you back even, one hand weakly pressing against your head, but he was already too far gone. The orgasm tore through Daryl, overpowering him completely.

His whole body stiffened, a helpless cry coming from his throat as he finally lost it, filling your mouth with his cum as he came. Before he even had time to process it, you’d swallowed every last drop from his throbbing cock, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you looked back up at him.

He was still shaking, his mind clearly blown, and when he finally managed to look at you, it was with that same wide-eyed shock.

Daryl just lay there, still in shock, his body trembling as reality sank in. "D-did ya really jus'—" His voice cracked with disbelief all over his face as he tried to wrap his head around what just happened.

You smirked at him, leaning in close, your lips moving softly against his in a teasing kiss. "What’s the matter, sweet boy? Never had someone swallow your cum before?"

He quickly shook his head. "I—I thought ya might get pregnan' or somethin'!" He stammered in embarrassment, his mind racing with the wildest thoughts.

"Oh, cutie. You really think it’s that easy? I'm sorry, but that's not how it works," you laughed, nudging his arm, enjoying the way his shoulders tensed up like he was trying to hide from you. "What? Can’t even look me in the eye after that?"

He opened his mouth, but whatever words he thought he might stammer out just died right there, and his hand went up to scratch the back of his neck.

"I... I didn’ mean to..." he finally managed to say, his voice cracking in the middle, his face still as red as a tomato.

You raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t mean to what? Coming in record time?" You let out a sarcastic scoff, and he near cried, ducking his head as though it would save him.

"I-I dunno, I thought... I jus', I mean—" he stumbled over each word. "Jus' ain’t never been with... y’know, anyone... like that."

"No kidding," you replied dryly, watching him shrink even smaller, if that was possible. "Anyone coulda guessed that, by the way, you freaked the hell out." He winced at your words, but hell, it just made him look all the more adorable, laying there.

When you placed a hand on his thigh, he went stiff as a board all over. "Easy, Daryl," you murmured. "No one’s laughing at you... much."

"I-I’m... sorry," he mumbled again.

"Sorry?" You scoffed, tilting his chin up to force his eyes to look at you. "For what? That you came too soon, or that you actually loved it?"

He tried to look away, but your fingers held him in place. "Both, I reckon," he answered, his voice shaking. It was like he thought he’d done something wrong, like he needed to apologize for being human.

"Nothing wrong with it, Dixon. Means I sure as hell did it right." You laughed, running a thumb over his jawline as he stared back at you.

"Bet that head of yours is just spinning right now, ain’t it?" You said, half-mocking. "Poor, sweet Daryl, don’t know what to do with himself now."

It was easy to see what he still needed—what he wanted, even if he couldn’t bring himself to say it. You didn’t have to guess, though. He was desperate for something more, desperate for you to just tell him what to do. It was obvious that he had no experience with women or anything like this, but it didn’t matter to you. If anything, it just made it better. You wanted him nervous.

"Hey," you said softly. "It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed. Not at all." You could see that he wanted to apologize again, wanting to make up for how pathetic he felt.

"Tell you what," you said, kissing his cheek. "You’ve got a lot to learn, Daryl Dixon. But I think you’re gonna like it. You just need to stop worrying." His hands moved to your waist, but they were hesitant, unsure. "And me? Well, I’m not here to judge you."

You took his hands and placed them back on your body, guiding him again. This time, he didn’t hesitate much, but it seemed as if he was trying to copy the way you had guided him earlier, trying to find some way to make up for what had happened. But that, for now, was enough.

"Don’t worry," you said, grinning at him, "I’m going to teach you."

Because you would. And he had no choice. Maybe that was what you liked most. The way Daryl needed you now, the way he didn’t even know what he wanted, but he was willing to follow you with your help along the way.

And he was only going to fall deeper.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema — (also tagging @darylsdelts as requested)

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 7: The end of beginnings

genre: angst, fluff, a lot of introspection

word count: 9743 (MY GOD IT'S A LONGER CHAPTER)

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you and spencer finally give into the tension that's been growing between you, but what happens now?

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

This chapter I'm dedicating to @chicaconfundidaycuriosa who makes my day with her hypothesis in the comments <3 thank you all for your support throughout this series!

“You do it.” 

“No!” You gasp, shaking your head so fast you feel like your brain is shaking too. “You do it!” 

“Your entire job is about people, you do it.” He insists, gently nudging you forward, but you don’t bulge. “Y/N, come on, it’s not that scary!”

“I’m not scared, I just hate talking on the phone! You wouldn’t know what’s that like, since you barely use yours.” 

“And now you’re diverging,” He giggles, pushing the phone over the counter to you once again. 

It has been almost thirty minutes of this and that is not really how you imagine spending your morning after all that had happened last night. For a moment there, Spencer’s voice fades to the background and all you can focus on are those beautiful, pink lips. Now that you know how they feel– the perfect balance of chapped roughness and natural softness; not now that you know how he tastes, something so naturally Spencer and minty toothpaste; not now that you know how he sounds when he whispers for more, more more. Not now, not ever.

Took you both some time to come down from the absolute high of acting like teenagers. What had started like a sweet, slow kiss, quickly turned into what teenagers would refer to ‘making out’, and suddenly you two were a little hurricane of hands, lips, and tangles bodies trying to make it to the room. The feeling of his hands on your waist, tugging you closer, pushing you down– “Y/N?”

Your cheeks explode in a fiery red shade when you realise he’s caught you daydreaming. 

Again. 

“Yeah?” Shaking your head slightly, look down at the phone being pushed between you two. 

“Are you going to call her?” 

To be fair, you haven’t really explained everything to him considering how… distracted… you were last night. And then this morning. And even now, mind going not so far away from the kitchen to the room, where absolutely nothing had happened last night. Absolutely. Nothing. Frustration settled after a while, a thrumming hum in the back of your head that never really let you fall asleep. It was only natural that after so long craving this, you had been excited at the thought of finally letting it happen, of allowing yourself to enjoy a moment that had meant as much in your dreams as it did in real life… but then you two made it to the bed. And you laid down. And suddenly, the underlying need behind every push and pull of his perfect lips against yours started to fade, and his hands that explored your body oh so eagerly started to slow down, and before you could say anything, he was backtracking to forehead kisses and getting up to brush his teeth. 

Like it had been just another day. 

Just another kiss. 

“I don’t want to,” You whisper back, eyes wide in a vulnerable state that has nothing to do with Abigail or the fact that you are about to hire her to take care of your store. 

This is not even about last night.

This is about this morning. 

This is about the fact that when you woke up, he wasn’t there. His side of the bed was tussled, and the pillows were thrown around, but Spencer was missing. For a moment, your heart sinks. You scramble around the bed, feeling out his side, searching for something, anything, that would give into your dwindling hope of last night not having been a dream, because god knows how many dreams you’ve had of him. But then you hear it, the sound of the shower running and the light humming of a man who has not a single musical bone in his body, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. 

Then it downs on you. It wasn’t a dream. Spencer kissed you last night, that’s a fact. And now he’s about to come out of the bathroom and you refuse to let the first thing he sees, on such a special morning, be this messy hair, panicked face version of yourself. The way you roll out of bed, rushed to the point of tripping on the blankets and falling on your knees with a hiss, is enough to have you laughing at yourself. Your cheeks blush when you think of facing him so early in the day and despite the excitement of it all, you are nervous. What will he say? What will he do?

Making breakfast seems like a great way to ease your overthinking mind of any incoming anxieties, and it’s a simple matter of action and reaction. 

Action, breaking the eggs over the hot pan. Reaction, frying some eggs. Action, putting the bread in the toaster. Reaction, getting some toast to eat with your eggs. Action–

“Good morning.” Action, Spencer comes out of the shower.

“Good morning,” You call back, looking down at the pan with such an obsessions you barely notice him stopping behind you. 

You do notice his hands landing on your waist, though, and when he turns you around, you can smell the fresh scent of his minty soap he loves so much. His smile calms you a little, and he leans forward, coming down, down, down… until his lips touch your forehead. “Slept well?” He mumbles, reaching behind you for a toast and then walking away to grab his bag from wherever he hid it. Blinking, you can’t even answer his question. Is he fucking teasing you or is he serious? 

Safe to say, you don’t really speak up then nor later, and that’s how you two end up where you are, sitting in front of each other in a stupid battle over who calls who. 

“Why don’t you want to call her?”

Eyes cast down, almost in shame, you shrug. “I…” How do you explain it to him without sounding crazy? “I don’t know, Spence. She makes me feel… weird. Like she knows something I don’t.” 

“Oh sweetheart,” His nice words can’t hide the smile on his face. “It’s just change. And you’re human, Y/N, which means you naturally don’t like change. But it’s okay, I promise. You already asked Garcia to dig as deep as she could and nothing came up as suspicious. You also refuse to entertain the idea of hiring your second choice because you said, and I quote, ‘he grabbed a book with greasy hands.’ So, this is pretty much the only option you have.” 

Great. Instead of a kiss that you crave, you get the dose of reality check you deserve. “Thank you, Spencer,” You grumble, the irony of your words not missing the spot when his smile falters. You grab the phone to dealing the number you’ve been avoiding for so long, but you stop before pressing call. “Fuck.” 

“Y/N–“ The magic of last night is gone when his phone rings and you know he has to go. 

“Go,” You whisper, patting his shoulder with dejection. At this point, the morning is ruined and, to be very honest, he is partially at fault. 

A kiss is not something you would consider casual. You know a lot of people do, and that’s okay; you don’t mind about how other people live their lives. You do, however, care about what Spencer thinks and does, and in your books, kissing you and then ignoring it the next day is simply not acceptable. But then you sit with it for a while, and your brain starts whirring up. Usually, when you open your eyes, the sun is barely up and Spencer’s breathing is regular enough to keep your head going up and down, up and down, up and down. The more you two cuddle, the more you realise you love the sound of his heartbeat– you were yet to see him hurt, but you’ve heard enough stories from past cases that now, whenever you got that little extra confirmation that he is okay, you feel a sense of relief that you can’t really explain. Yet, that morning, when you finally make sense of what the fuck was happening without the your usual warm body next to you, you don’t feel relief. You don’t feel anything, to be very honest, because for a moment, your blood turns cold at the idea that Spencer might have woken up and regretted it all. 

“I feel like I shouldn’t,” He frown, cocking his head to the side in that way that makes you think he’s about to tell you something about yourself that you’ve never asked. “Y/N–“ “Go to work, Spencer,” You repeat yourself before pressing ‘call’. The phone in your ear is enough to keep him from trying to chase you. “Abigail? Hi! This is Y/N, from the bookstore… Yes. Yes, and from the uh, from the building. I’m calling with good news– you seem like the perfect person for the position. You– oh, no, no, it’s okay, you don’t have to bring me anything, it’s fine!”

This is the last thing you need– Abigail and her nosy nature. “What’s going on?” Spencer I next to you and his mouth is so close to your ear you shiver a little when he speaks. 

“Abigail, please, I’m about to go out and– oh, no, my… Spence is going to work. Thank you for offering to bake a cake but I’ll just se you at work, okay? Alright. Yeah, okay, thank you! I’ll be sending you a follow up email with all the information for next steps. Thank you! Have a good day! Bye!”

“Y/N, did Abigail do something to make you uncomfortable?” His hands on your shoulder that hold you at arms length are starting to annoy you. Now he didn’t even want you close? There is more to it and you know it. Above all, you’re not completely illogical, but your brain is working overtime and your heart is hurting, and now every little thing Spencer does will be an issue. 

Fed up with it all, you stomp your feet and walk away. “Go to work, Doctor Reid!” The impetuous way you huff as you turn around and slam the door of his room shut has him gasping, and you can hear if from where you stand, embarrassed by yourself and your ridiculous, childish behaviour. Still, you refuse to go back out there until you’re sure you’ve heard the door closing behind him. 

“Fuck me,” You mutter after you sit there in your own silence. The apartment doesn’t feel the same as it used to anymore. It’s not a matter of coming in and watering his plants anymore. You don’t just walk around looking for clues from the scattered books in his apartment anymore. You actually know things now. You know parts of his life that he had to tell you, parts that you didn’t have to guess, and it actually felt good— he was opening up out of his own volition and now you’ve ruined everything. Maybe you got greedy. Maybe you got greedy for his welcoming arms and whispered pet names. Maybe it all felt too good, and, just like Icarus, you might have flown too close to the sun, and now you are falling, wings melted and ruined. 

Before you know it, you’re already dialling your mom’s number. 

“Mom?” You are sitting on the floor, legs pulled to your chest with a ridiculous pout on your lips, and from the way she laughs on the other side of the line, you think she can hear it. 

“Well, look who it is,” She teases. It’s easy to picture her face when she says that. You two have made a dance out of it, this whole loving sarcasm thing, and she always go first. Naturally, you just follow her lead. “My daughter who forgot I exist.”

“Aw,” You smile, shaking your head in amusement. “Is this my mother? The one who knows how pick up the phone and dial my number if she wants to talk to me?”

You two laugh for a while before she speaks again. “I’m serious, sweetheart, I’ve missed you. I haven’t seen your face in a while and… and your dad misses you too, you know?” The slight sniffle on the other side of the line breaks your heart a little. 

“I miss him too,” You whisper, voice a bit too soft for her not to notice. 

“Y/N, is something wrong? Did something happen?” It’s no surprise your mom panics quickly when it comes to you, specially after everything that happened in New York. “Is it Josh? Did he find you?” 

God, how it hurts that she even has to worry about that. “No, no, it’s not Josh, it’s…” You are yet to tell her about Spencer. And not in the context of this entire situation with Cat, but about Spencer as the wonderful human he is. About his quirks and his love for books and his chess addiction and… and the fact that he has your heart in the palm of his hands and you’re scared. You’re so scared. “I met someone.” 

Her gasp has your eyes shutting– it’s so nostalgic, that noise of motherly surprise, that you can’t help but bask in it. Growing up, you had always been very close to your mother, enjoying days out together on Sundays and always trusting her to keep your secrets safe from the world. She was your biggest fan, too; supported you on everything you did, cheered from you from the sidelines of every game you wanted to try, helped you convince your dad to let you go to parties you never enjoyed. Never had she unfairly punished you, never had she betrayed your trust, never had she treated you with anything but love and pride. Hiding things from her is hard, possibly one of the hardest things you have ever done, and you hate how easy it’s becoming to deflect her questions and ignore her comments, because truly, all you want to do on days like this, where your heart hurts and your spirits dwindle, is to go to her and cry. Is that too much to ask? 

“Tell me about this person,” She immediately shuffles around and you picture her in the same living room you’ve grown up reading book after book. If you have to guess, she has her usual coffee mug next to her, an addiction you blame her for passing onto you, and she’ll throw the old knitted blanket she’s so proud of making over her legs.

“Well, his name is Spencer–“

“Spencer is a good name!” She whispers to herself and you smile. 

“It is,” You agree, stretching your legs in front of you and wiggling your toes, glad to be distracted by anything and everything that gets your mind off of last night. “He is a good guy. My favourite customer, actually. That’s uh, that’s how we met.” 

“At the store? That is adorable!” 

“Yeah, he reads… a lot,” That is the understatement of the century. “He was my first client when I opened up, and we kind of became friends and gotten closer. Then I kind of, uh, started apartment sitting for him, whenever he was away at work and we just–“

“Oh, what’s the apartment like?” 

“It’s… beautiful,” You mumble, looking around with a small smile playing on your lips. “The walls are this pretty shade of green and it’s really cozy? Books all around. I like it here.” 

“Here?” Oh no. “Wait, are you at his house right now?” 

“Yeah,” You mumble, picking the lose threads on the socks you borrowed, one blue and the other purple with polkadots. For the life of you, you couldn’t find matching pairs in his sock drawer. “I’ve been here a lot, lately.” 

“Is he out of town?” 

“No.” The silence that follows speaks volume, and for the first time ever, you realise that your mom might not be just worried. She scared, too; for the daughter she saw so happy one day and then moving cities the next. “Mom?” 

“I– I’m happy for you, sweetie,” Her words are kind, but the edge of hesitation is there. “And you’re not going too fast, right? You said you’ve known him since you opened the store, so that’s a year and something, and–“

The assumption that you are repeating the same mistake you’ve make with Josh annoys you. You’re not the same person you used to be, you’re not like that anymore– needy and blinded by love and all the shinny things it brought you. You’ve come a long way since then, and you know your mother recognises that, you do but… but you’re still embarrassed. Embarrassed about who you were. About who you loved. It’s a bit ridiculous, how whenever one of your parents bring him up, you immediately raise your defences, walls coming up so high you can’t even see over the green field of life that awaits you on the other side. 

“Mom,” You wince when your voice comes out a bit too harsh. “Sorry. Mom, I’m fine. We’re… nothing. I’m here because… because a pipe burst in my apartment and he was kind enough to let me stay at his place.” 

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry sweetie, I didn’t mean to– I mean, I’m glad you have someone to help you out when we’re so far away.”

“I wish you guys were here,” You whisper, slowly getting up to move to the living room. You immediately sit down in the armchair, grabbing your blanket and covering yourself. If you couldn’t hug your mom, this would have to do. “You’d love him.” 

“Yeah? Is he handsome?”

“So handsome,” You giggle, and it’s an instinct, looking to the side table in search of that familiar frame of Spence and his team at a fancy dinner. You love his smile when he’s happy, so wide and taut that it almost looks like he has too much emotion in proportion to his body. “And he’s so kind, mom. He’s kind, and gentle, and oh so smart. A genius, really.”

“Of course he has to be a genius to keep up with you and the hundreds of books you read in a year,” Her reply is comical when you think about it. The idea of Spencer having trouble keeping up with you, and not the other way around, makes you laugh. “So why do you sound so sad, if he’s such a great guy? He’s treating you good, right?”

“He treats me amazingly, it’s just that… we kissed last night.” 

“And it was bad?” Her teasing makes your shoulder relax enough until you are melting onto the chair. “That’s why you’re sad?”

“Mom! No!” Cringing, you hug the throw pillow closer. “It was great. Amazing, even! It’s just that it was our first kiss and then this morning he just… didn’t do it again.” 

“Oooohhh, I see what’s going on,” She chuckles. “You expected him to talk about this and he didn’t, did he?”

“How do you know?” 

“Because you dad was the same way–“

“Oh gross, no, no, no!” You refuse to fall onto this freudian trap. “I’m not dating my dad!” 

“Wait, so you guys are dating? Is this you telling me you have a boyfriend?!”

“No!” Groaning, you know you’re between a rock and a hard place. There is no escape anymore, and you have to come clean. “I don’t know! We kissed, but then he didn’t talk about it this morning and he just left like nothing happened, and and– and yesterday, he didn’t even say he likes me! I’m too old to be on this whole will-they-won’t-they thing, mom! I need verbal confirmation!” 

“Well, have you asked him? Or told him how you feel? Or tried to start a conversation?” 

Squinting at the phone, you huff, incredulous at her insinuation. Her correct insinuation. “Mother! Whose side are you on?”

“Always yours,” Your mother laughs. “Which is why I’m saying talk to him. If he won’t start the conversation, do it yourself. I raised an independent young woman, and this is the perfect time to prove it.” 

You wait a second before sighing. “I’m scared.”

“Of what, sweetie?” 

“Of everything. Of what happened before. Of it happening again.”

“Y/N,” Your mother say and suddenly you think you’re about to get scolded through the phone. “You can’t be afraid of your future because of one mistake you made in the past, sweetheart. I– I’m sorry we didn’t notice. I’m your mother, I should’ve noticed, I should’ve said something, and I’m never going to make that mistake ever again. So I’m saying something now. You haven’t sounded this excited about pretty much anything in a while. You… You sound like how you used to be. But better.” 

“Mom,” There is no one to witness the way your lower lip trembles at her words. Back then, you thought you were doing a good job keeping your parents safe from it all– you thought you were good at hiding the tiredness with makeup and the miserable tone of your voice with sweet high pitched laughter. None of your parents ever talked about what was happening, either. They didn’t ask questions like how your mom does now; they didn’t see past the beautiful necklaces, the pretty dresses, and the important parties. They were blinded, much like you were, with the fake promises of a happiness that never came. And now here you are, scared out of your mind to jump into this again, and yet, everything fades away when your mom guarantees you she’ll never let this happen again. As grown as you are, nothing reassures you more than your mom– your biggest fan and your biggest protector. 

“I’m scared too,” She whispers, like she’s telling you her biggest secret. “I’m scared my baby will hurt again and I won’t be there to help. I’m scared I’ll never be able to visit. I’m scared about a lot of things when it comes to you, sweetie. But I prefer to focus on the silver linings.”

Ah. So that’s where you get if from. “And what are the silver linings here?” 

“You being you,” It’s as simple as that for her. “And that’s all I really want.” 

For about an hour, you two stay on the phone, chitchatting about the randomise things. It’s no secret that you miss New York– the bustle of people, the endless lights, the pollution and its grey hue in the air. God, you miss it a lot, but what you miss the most is the ease of everything. Moving around is quick, whatever you need you just need to turn the corner and a deli will surely have it, and, above all, whenever you want to see your mom and dad, all you have to do is take the express from the Upper east side down to Midtown and you’re there. You’re at the same small apartment you grew up in, the same brick walls, the same loud neighbours, hell, even your room still looked the same as you left it! But that’s not what you need right now, even though you would love to see your old room with such new eyes… what you need is that feeling of warmth spreading through your chest when it dawns on you that you are home.

“Mom, I have to go,” You finally say. “But let’s talk more often, okay? I miss you and dad a lot.” 

“We miss you too, sweetie. I love you.” 

“Love you too,” Hanging up the phone is harder than you expected it to be, but you don’t have a lot of time to suffer in silence. 

Spencer is a man who naturally avoids all forms of technology. He is not the biggest fan of computers and cellphones, and whenever he texts you or calls you, you feel like you’re winning in life. You’re the exception to his firm, firm rule. But for work purposes, he had explained, he had to be reachable at all hours, meaning Spencer has something you haven’t see in ages– a landline phone. When it starts ringing, that nostalgic loud, shriek of a ring that never fails to make you feel like you’re about to have a heart attack. 

Instinctually, you reach for it as if you are the one expecting a call. It would be so easy to just pick up the phone and say Dr. Reid’s residence, how may I help you? Yet, you don’t. You stop yourself just as the tips of your fingers touch the phone and you pull back. This is exactly what happened last time– a box for him and the consequences ending up being yours to face. Since then, you’d like to think you’ve grown smarter, and so you let it go to voicemail. 

“Hello, Dr. Reid, this is Nurse Kenny from Bennington Sanitarium. I’m calling about your mother.” 

Somehow, this still feels like facing the consequences for something you didn’t do. 

—————————————

 In your defence, you did try calling Penelope before panicking. You called her, you called Spencer, you even called the BAU hotline in a feverish desperation to reach your boy wonder. All the hurt from that morning, all the pain and the insecurities immediately fly out the window as soon as the nurse hangs up with a final call me when you can. 

“Fucking hell,” You push your way through the crowd trying to make out of the subway station, everyone rushing through the steps to finally be set free in the loud streets of Washington, and if it was any other day, you might have taken the time to enjoy it. The sun is high, the air is cold, and the smell of coffee reaches you almost instantly. 

But there is not time to be happy when all you can think about is Spencer– his face crumpling up in that way it does whenever it goes uncharacteristically serious, his brows furrowed in worry, his hands frozen in place like the rest of his body. It kills you being the deliverer of bad news. It’s something you have always tried to avoid, ever since you were a tiny little girl and you had to tell your friends that no, you didn’t like My Little Ponies and then later on that also no, you didn’t want to go to that party. The disappointment in their faces always makes you crumble, give in, give up, anything to see them smile again. 

This time around, you can’t do that. You can’t give up, or tell him something he wants to listen to instead. This has to do with his family, and you don’t know anything about his family– so you know they mean a lot to him. Oddly enough, it’s one of his little weird habits that you find the most endearing; for someone that talks a lot, when it comes to the people he loves, Spencer doesn’t talk at all. Maybe this is the price to pay to work at the BAU… when the most despicable and inhumane people in the world know his name, he has to do everything in his power to not let them find out any other. 

“Ma’am, where do you think you are going?!” The security guard approaching you is, to say the least, terrifying. You forget that you have to sign up, so uses to walking in with Officer Kaper and his badge, except this time around, you didn’t have time to call him. You did everything Spencer told you not to do, and he will lecture you on it later, you just know he will, though you don’t really care about it, as long as he talks to you after this, you don’t care about what words come out of his mouth. 

Because sure, it was an accident– listening to the nurse’s message was an accident– but you still did it. There is no hiding it, you did it and my god, you feel terrible about it. Feels like something akin to looking through his phone while he is in the shower, close to searching through his letters at home, similar to reading through the annotations in his books. This is private. It wasn’t enough to be living at his apartment? Sleeping in his bed, stealing his clothes? You also had to go ahead and listen to his private messages? “I’m here to see Dr. Spencer Reid,” You say, lower lip trembling at the thought of a possible confrontation with this man. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but it’s urgent, I need to see him, I need to talk to Spence, he’s not picking up his phone and–“

“Do you have a form of identification? You have to sign in,” When he takes a step closer, you immediately shrink back, shoulders hunching forward in a tense attempt to cover yourself from his eyes. 

“Of course, yes, I’ll… sign in, but can you– I’m so sorry, but can you call Penelope Garcia? She is the BAU’s tech analyst, I think. She has a lot of computers and–“

“Get in line.” 

It’s an order more than a request, and you consider telling him to fuck off. Your nerves are high and you feel a sense of urgency that you have only felt one time before in your entire life– and that was when you moved to D.C. The thing no one tells you about signing in into the FBI is that is practically impossible. People like to think that all you need is a government issued ID, and technically, they are right– there is nothing else you can provide them other than you driver’s license, but the hoops they have to go through to grant you access add another ten minutes or so onto the wait that is already killing you. 

Until the clerk says, “Here you go, ma’am,” And gives you your visitor’s pass like it’s nothing. 

Like it doesn’t hold the weight of the world for you then, as you shove it into that stupid guard’s face and runs to the far left end of the hallway. At this point, you’ve been at the building enough times to know how to get upstairs, but despite the faint familiarity of it all, you continue to feel displaced and singled out whenever those beige walls surround you. Your oversized cream sweater is like a beacon of light in such a dim office, but it serves its purpose to keep you warm against the powerful air conditioner in there. How Spencer gets anything done under those circumstances, you don’t know, but the shivers travelling up and down your arms are enough to keep you alert and on the look out for the most likely presence to see– your favourite bright pink, bleached blonde geek. 

“Excuse me, can I help you?” He’s wearing a suit, much like the ones Agent Hotchner wears and you have to hold back tears. It’s all very intimidating, knowing that at any point one of these people could find you suspicious and start asking you questions. 

“Uh, y-yeah, I guess you can,” Clearing your throat, your hand squeeze the shoulder of your bag tighter, and when his eyes move to look at the slight movement, you know he’s a part of the BAU. You know he’s reading you like Spence does. “I need to find Dr. Spencer Reid,” Saying his full name still feels odd to you. “Could you maybe tell me where he is?” 

“Oh? Reid?” This expression you know– surprise. “Are you his girlfriend or something?” 

“His girlfr– I uh– I mean, I–“ It takes a moment for you to realise that if you say no, then you have to explain to this stranger what you really are to Dr. Reid, and that is a can of worms you rather not open right now, so instead of being honest like you always try to be, you blush and nod. “I uh, yeah. I am.” 

“Oh wow!” His genuine shock to the news ticks you off a little. It’s not all that crazy that Spencer would have a girlfriend, considering his charming awkwardness and his bright, beautiful smile. “He never mentioned a girlfriend before, I didn’t–“

“Is he here or not?!” You kind of shriek, widening your eyes in hopes to make him pity you enough to move on with this a bit faster. 

“No, he isn’t. I think his team just left for the tarmac, they got a case in this morning and–“ 

His voice fades to the background easily, your anxiety peaking through with that annoying ringing in your ear. Spencer left to another state and didn’t call you. Logically, you know that his job and his feelings for you, however good or bad they might be, are not connected. Logically, it is easy to make that distinction. However, you are not a logical person all the time. You are not a genius like he is, and sometimes, you let your heart lead; you let your emotions take over like a tsunami inside of you, crashing and crashing and crashing, until you are nothing but a crumble of what you once was. 

You are ready, too. Ready to give up and delay the inevitable until the nurse can reach him directly, until you’re not the one having to panic, until he can deal with this personally. Consider it an addictive habit of a you of many moons ago, a Y/N who let things go to protect herself and avoid unnecessary confrontation. Confronting Josh was never the best option, so you had to come up with strategies. Plans, schemes, lies. You hate that you’ve become good at those, hate that all the work you’ve done to leave those behind is now at risk, but something deep inside of you can’t let this go. 

Something that you know very well is the need to make Spencer proud. The need to be there for him after all the times he was there for you. It’s your time to be the hero. 

“Call Hotchner.” 

There is a harshness in your voice that is very much planted there. The same goes for the twitch of your brows, the bite to the inside of your cheek, the averting gaze to the floor. It’s time to tell the story the profiler wants to read, and you double down when you let out an exasperated sigh, pushing your disheveled hair back. “I need you to call Hotchner and get Spencer back here right now.” 

You shouldn’t want to laugh with how he fumbles with his phone, quickly dealing the boss’ number, but all amusement is gone when he mumbles something about an Spencer’s girlfriend and passes the phone to you. “He wants to talk to you.” 

“Oh god… hello?” You say, voice wobbling a little. 

“Miss Y/L/N?” In the background, you can hear some chatter and nothing else. Are they in the jet already? Have you failed? “Is everything alright? Why are you in the office?”

“I am truly sorry, sir,” You gulp down, glancing at the man in a silent request for some privacy. “But I need to speak to Spencer. He is not answering his phone and it’s an emergency. Penelope wasn’t answering either, so I thought I could come find her, but SSA Greenberg asked me if I needed help and–“

“Is that why you told him you were Spencer’s girlfriend?” 

“Family emergency trumps everything,” You explain, the heavy weight of you guilt settling in. For some reason, you think you got Spencer in trouble. 

“Miss Y/L/N, is this about your case? We explained that we would have cases alongside–“

“Sir, it’s his mother. I don’t know the details, but there was a call and they asked him to call them back as soon as possible.” 

The eery silence that follows has you holding your breath. You are not sure how much his team knows about the intricacies of his personal life, but they surely know more than you do, considering the immediate rustle you hear on the other side of the line.

“We’ve just arrived at the tarmac. I’m sending send Reid and Garcia back to help us from there,” Agent Hotchner says, voice dripping with authority. “Wait for him there. Tell Officer Kaper he will be relived as soon as Reid arrives.” 

“Office Kaper is… not here.”

“…We will discuss this later. They should be arriving in twenty.” 

“Okay. Okay, good,” You breathe out loudly. “Thank you, sir.” 

Once the call ends, once you give SSA Greenberg his phone back and evade all the questions he has about you and Spencer, once you push down the wave of relief that almost makes you fall to the ground… you make your way to Penelope’s office. You need credentials to walk into her lair, it’s not as simple as just opening a door– she is the gatekeeper of all things confidential, and you know not all people are authorised to walk in. The fact that this is the same woman who has invited you over for wine night and got so drunk she couldn’t stop talking about the one time she walked in on Morgan showering is actually insane. The Penelope you know can’t keep a secret for her life, but then again, this is not Penelope’s office. This is Garcia’s lair, and you need to remember that these are fundamentally two different people. Just like Spence and Dr. Reid. JJ and Jennifer. Prentiss and Emily. All of them had managed a level of separation that seemed practically impossible to you, leaving work outside of their homes in a perfectly packed box by the door. It makes you wonder, though, if when he walks out the door to go to the office, he leaves you behind in a box inside. 

Compartmentalising is not something you did well. You tried, back when you first arrived in Washington, at the recommendation of your therapist, but you seemed to struggle more than normal. At your core, you believe in honesty, in transparency, and despite everything you’ve been through, you never gave up on yourself, on your core self, not the self you’ve created to appease Josh. Though you did forget about her, for a while. Distracted by your new life, you missed your old self like you miss old high school friends; remembering the good old times but still doing nothing to reach out. 

Just like you told your mom, you’re scared it will happen again. That you’ll lose yourself in the beautiful world of Spencer Reid and lose sight of what matters– yourself. You might have learned this way later in life than you should have, but a relationship is a two way road and now you know that. Now, you want to know that, you want Spencer to show you that. There is a kind of romance in how he leaves books for you to read next to the armchair, a certain indication that he knows what you like. A type of care in how he buys the shampoo and conditioner you mentioned you liked one time almost eight months ago. This is where you are trying to meet him at, ordering the rare books he’s so desperate after through your unique contacts. Making him breakfast before work. Unfolding the corners of his books. Even though you express yourself better with words than actions, you don’t miss the way his eyes sparkle a little extra whenever he sees his coffee mug filled up for him first thing in the morning or how he always pretends to be caught off guard when you bring him a surprise book from the store. Spencer can read you like he has been born to do so, and yet, he still played along. For you, he’d always play along. 

Which is why, when they found you sitting on the floor next to Garcia’s office, he plays along. “Are you more comfortable there than sitting on my desk?” 

His casual tone shocks you a little bit. Scrambling to your feet, you meet him and Penelope halfway. “Spence!” You gasp, hands stretching out to touch him, feel him, ground him, anything. You just need to make sure he is paying attention, the hands on his biceps squeezing it slightly. “Spence, you need to call your mom! Something happened, and I tried calling you guys but you weren’t picking up, so I came here to tell you that you need to call her, you–“

“Y/N,” Spence whispers in that way that makes your heart speeds up. His eyes are stuck to yours, shinning with something you’ve seen before, something you’ve seen last night. “Y/N, my mom is okay. Hotch told me to call her as soon as he sent us back, she’s okay, everything’s been handled. Are you okay? Sweetheart, you’re sweating…” 

Garcia’s gasp falls onto deaf ears as you and Spencer lose yourself in each other. “I was nervous,” You mumble, trying to pull away and dab at your forehead, but he’s on it. His hands catch you by the elbow and gently bring you closer into what slowly turns into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Spence, I didn’t mean to listen to the message, I swear I didn’t, I was just there and the machine–“

“I know,” He nods his head distractedly and gently wipes you clammy skin with the wrist of his sweater. “I know, Y/N, you don’t have to apologise. Thank you for coming all the way here to look for me just to tell me to call my mom. I truly appreciate it.”

“Of course I would,” There is something building between you two, a tension very familiar to you now that you’ve been watching it pile on for the past couple of weeks. 

For Penelope, though, it is certainly news. 

“OH MY GOD!” 

Snapped out of the trance of those honeyed eyes, you turn to look at your blonde friend with a pale complexion. “Pen, no–“ 

“OH MY GOD, YOU TWO BONED!” 

“What?! No! Absolutely not!” Spencer takes a step back from you like he’s suddenly troubled by thought of being that close to you, and you can’t really hide how your heart breaks a little at that. 

“Yeah… apparently absolutely not,” You repeat, coming back down to your harsh reality since the bubble burst.

“What– What just happened?” She utters, but you don’t really give her a chance to develop her line of thought, grabbing the access card from her hand and swiping it through the reader to unlock her door. “Wait, wait, what–“

“I’ll stay here with Pen,” You say without looking back at Spencer. Your job here is done and until Officer Kaper can come pick you up, you know they won’t let you leave the building. “I’ll call Mike for a ride, so don’t worry about me going back alone. I–“

“He’s not here?” Spencer asks, looking around with that adorable confused frown of his. “Wait, Y/N, did you come here by yourself?! Didn’t we talk about–“

“No Spencer, we didn’t! We didn’t talk about a lot of fucking things, and then you left off this morning like you didn’t want to talk about it and, and, and I was panicking, okay?! You didn’t pick up the phone and I’m a big enough girl to take the subway alone!” Your voice certainly raises enough to have people looking at you two, and your cheeks fire up in embarrassment. You are causing a scene at his workplace, and in your opinion, that is unacceptable. Gulping, you look down, tugging Penelope into her sacred space and closing the door behind you. “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I’m really sorry.” 

“Y/N, wait–“ But the door closes midway through his sentence and despite him having access to enter, he knows better than to press on a sore spot. 

The worst part is that you kind of want him to. And you hate that part of yourself that wants such a reactive behaviour from this peaceful man. Spencer does plenty to show you he cares, even if he does it in his own quiet, subtle way, and that is enough for you. Fuck, that should be enough for you. Yet somehow, nothing seems to shut up that voice in your head telling you that yes, he is enough… but you aren’t. In your overthinking mind, you know that you are too average for Spencer. You’d never be able to keep up with him, with his spectacular brain and his humble attitude. At best, all you offer him are books, some observations here and there, and a warm body to hug at night. At worst, you’re a burden to a man who already carries the entire world on his shoulder. 

“You two?!” Penelope’s dramatic gasp is enough to put a pause on your pity party. “Boy genius and you?!” Scoffing, you sit down on the chair she pulled for you. “I know… sounds ridiculous, right? I mean, the man is a genius and I’m… well-read at best.” 

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, we’re not going there,” Barely does she know you’re already there, that you’ve been there this entire morning. “What happened? Last time we talked, it was a crush and nothing else! And now you and boy wonder are ‘sweetheart’ing each other and the forehead kiss was just so adorable and–“ 

“We kissed.” 

The way it comes out to her, unlike how it did with your mom, is a confession rather than a posing issue. It makes your heart race and your sad face lifts for a second, enough to let a giggle escape. This is what friends are for, and you are happy to be living through this again. 

“YOU WHAT?”

“Pen, don’t shout!” You whisper, looking at the door like it’s about to slam open at any second. “What if someone hears?” “Would that matter?” She laughed. “You basically told the biggest gossip in the FBI that you are Spencer’s girlfriend.” 

“Oh my god,” You groan. Slowly getting comfortable in your chair, you pull your legs up to your chest and let your head fall on your knee dramatically. “He’s going to hate me.” 

“Now why on Earth do you think that? I’m pretty sure Spencer has had wet dreams of you calling him your boyfriend.” 

“Penelope!” It’s suddenly way too hot in her office, your entire body flushing instead of just your cheeks. “You are wrong, by the way… He had a whole dinner planned, you know? He was turning his apartment into the perfect date when I got back home, and he was cooking and he looked so good, Pen, so, so, so good and we just– I mean, it just happened! And then…”

Penelope is holding onto your every word, perfectly painted lips biting on her fluffy pink pen. “And then…?” Her wiggly brows are a dead giveaway of where her dirty, dirty mind is going. 

“And then, just as we get to the room…” You repeat, leaning forward as if you’re about to tell her the biggest secret of your life, only to deflate right after. “He pulls away, kisses me on the forehead, and goes to sleep.” 

“No!”

“Oh yeah,” You sigh, body crumbling in a defeated lump of limbs. “And then this morning? Nothing. Nada. Not even a peck on the lips as a ‘good morning’.”

“Oh wow,” She says after a moment. You find some comfort in how she seems as wordless as you were early today. “Oh wow, that’s… wow. It’s impressive, but it’s not shocking. Still, it’s… wow.” 

“Not shocking?” You shriek. “It’s very shocking!” 

“Oh, sweet pumpkin,” There is so much comfort in the clicks and clacks of her heels when she gets up and comes to give you a hug. Admittedly, Penelope’s hugs are much like one of a mother; warm, caring, and all encompassing. It’s enough to heal wounds you didn’t even know you had, like she is searching your soul the same way she searches the web for evidence– with expertise. “I sometime forget you’ve never known little boy genius when he was, well, little. Our pretty boy over there is not… the best with people.” 

“That’s mean, Pen,” You sigh, frowning a little. He might not say much about his feelings, and sure, sometimes Spencer is quite reserved to his own mind in a way that makes you think he assumes people won’t really understand what’s going on up there, but never has Spencer made you feel uncomfortable or bad about yourself. Saying he is ‘not the best with people’ actually upset you because despite a couple of hiccups here and there, Spencer is great with you. He remembers everything you say you like or dislike, he cares about your opinions even though sometimes you feel like you’re just saying the obvious, he is gentle with his touches and hugs. “Spencer is amazing, he’s always so careful with everything and everyone, and he’s so kind, and gentle, and considerate. He’s just too in his head sometimes, but that’s okay! So am I, so is everyone, you know?”

“It’s so cute how you’re quick to jump to his defence,” She teased, shaking you a little by the shoulders. “I know he’s all of that, trust me. I would die for Spencer– no, that’s too easy. I would kill for Spencer, and I actually almost did once! And–“

“Wait, what?!”

“And what I’m trying to say is not that he is a bad person, but that he can get a bit awkward. Try to think from his perspective, Y/N, the kid went to college when he was 14. All those crazy life experiences we had in college, he didn’t. And then he joined the FBI, and time just… got away.” 

“Are you trying to tell me Spencer Reid is a virgin?” You gasp, mouth hung open in surprise, because from the little action you two had going last night, you would not have betted on that. 

“God, no… or at least I don’t think so, but what I am trying to tell you, my cute bookworm, is that his experience is… limited to a couple of people. Very different people. One of his exes was a famous actress kind of people. They did long distance every single time kind of people.” 

Little by little, the engines in your brain start turning, and things start making sense. “He never… had a proper relationship?” Somehow, this makes it feel like all that weight that is sitting on your chest, the pressure of figuring everything out by yourself, the racing thoughts that can’t leave you alone… it’s all gone. All easing up in a lighter mist of confusion and sadness. 

Her curls bounce around her face when she shakes her head. “Not that we’ve known. So just… god, please give him a chance. He’s a good egg, a perfect egg, even! Just a bit confused with his own brain and, and, and he’s probably wondering what’s the proper procedure from here on out! He’s probably confused and wondering what to do and– and he’s so happy, Y/N. This morning, he couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t tell  

Morgan to shut up when he made sex jokes. He didn’t hog the coffee machine. It was like he was in his own little world and it was so cute to see him finally acting like the boy he should have been all along. I don’t want to see that go away.” 

Penelope Garcia has a tell that you are pretty sure she doesn’t know about. It usually peek through her desperate rambles that you love so much, squeezing her voice out of her until she’s barely speaking. You know she’s self-conscious about her rambles, the amount of times she has apologised to you enough proof of it, but when she starts feeling guilty, like she’s staying something she shouldn’t have been, Penelope’s voice dies down, to the point that her mouth is moving but no sound is coming out.  

“Pen…” 

“I know you like him,” The intensity of her eyes behind her glasses is enough to have you looking away. “I know you do, you like him so much that you broke your security protocol and ran to the FBI to tell him that he needed to call his mom. Please don’t give up on him.”

“I’m not,” You whisper back, shaking your head so fast your neck hurts a little. “Pen, I’m not giving up on him, I don’t think I ever could. I’m just… insecure. I understand Spence’s experience is unique to him, but mine is unique to me, and I think we’re both in the learning process. I just wish he would’ve talked to me, you know? Spencer kissed me like there was no tomorrow yesterday and this morning he didn’t even acknowledge it. What if he doesn’t want to do it anymore? What if he changed his mind? You know, his brain works too fast and he could’ve thought about all the future scenarios in which this goes wrong and–“

“You know, sometimes you two sound so much alike that it’s scary. I’ll tell you the same thing I told him, get your head out of your ass, it’s not a hat.” 

“Hey!”

“Your intrusive thoughts are shitty!” 

“That is a really weird way to put it–“

“What are you two talking about?” Turning to look at Spencer, you’re surprised to see him all packed up with his satchel hanging by his side. You deflate a little at how ready he is to leave, thinking he’s going back to the tarmac to meet up with the team wherever they are, but he beats you to the punch. “Y/N, ready to go home?” 

“Oh,” You scramble to get up, grabbing your bag and your visitor’s pass and then nodding. “Yeah, I guess. Are you coming with?”

“Yeah, I told Hotch I’d be working from home in case my mom’s nurse called again,” He gives you that tight-lipped smile you love so much and you kind of swoon. 

“Alright,” You give Penelope a hug goodbye and from then on, you find yourself in the longest stretch of silence you’ve ever been before. 

The tension is there, taut enough that you feel like your stomach is being pulled out of your body every time he sucks in a breath a bit too hard or opens his mouth just to close it again. Every time, you think he’s going to initiate the chat, and, every time, he doesn’t. It disappointment after disappointment, and by the time you two make it back to his place, yo can’t keep it in anymore. “Spence,” You call softly, letting him open the door the the building without rush and following him inside. As per usual, he’s quick to let you lead, gesturing politely for you to go up first. “Spence, we need to talk about last ni– Abigail, what are you doing here?”

You’re not even at the top of the stairs when you see her, all sweaters and ponytails standing by your door. “Oh, hi boss!” Her joke makes you cringe a little, but you smile nonetheless. You must’ve done something to alert Spencer of how uncomfortable you actually are, his hand sneaking to grab yours as he squeezes past you to stand one step above, body almost covering yours completely. “Oh. Hi.” 

Her tone change is obvious even to your layman ears, and you squeeze Spencer’s hand in nervousness. “Abigail, right?” He asks, a small smile playing on his lips as if he’s trying to be nice, though the squint in his eyes tells a whole other story. “Good to see you again. Did you move in okay?” 

“Yeah,” The way she moves her head to the side, trying to get a glimpse of you, has red flags raised all up in  your head. “All moved in and ready to start work on Monday!”

“I’m happy to hear you’re excited, Abigail!” You reply with a forced chuckle, climbing the extra step to stand side by side with Spence. Your hands are intertwined behind his back, his fingers playing with yours, and if it’s to keep you calm or himself, you don’t know. “I’m excited for you to start at the store, too. Is there anything you need, though? I know I said I’d send you a starter email and a draft of a schedule, but I just haven’t had the time today. I’ll work on it as soon as I can!”

“Oh, no, no, no hurry!” Once she can see you, it’s like her whole persona changes. She’s bubblier when she’s talking to you, shoulders less tense and voice less tense. “I was just coming here to bring you this. It got delivered to my apartment by accident, but it has your name on it.” 

From behind her back, she pulls a brown package. It’s small and thin, and it doesn’t seem so have any logo on it. “Y/N, are you expecting something?” Spencer whispers, eyes not leaving Abigail’s hand and for a second you let yourself panic enough to believe she’s carrying a bomb. It felt like she was carrying a bomb. Like it was going to blow up and your entire life, your entire re-construed life with Spencer by your side, and everything would soon come crumbling down. 

“N-No,” You stutter back and your body goes frigid cold when Abigail takes a step forward to you two, arms stretched out to give you the package. “Oh my god, no, no, no one knows I’m–“

Quickly grabbing the box, Spencer wastes no time in getting you inside the apartment. “Thank you so much for bringing this, Abigail, but we really have to get home. As promised, you’ll hear from Y/N soon on that starter email. Have a great rest of your day!”

“Wait, I wanted to talk to Y/N about–“ The loud slamming of the door drowns her words out. 

Before even looking your way, Spencer is on the phone. “Hotch,” He breathed out, eyes wide in that crazed way that you’ve only see once before, in your shop when he had his gun out. “She found Y/N.” 

You know you can’t call this an ending, not when you two never even had a begging…

“We have to relocate her.” 

But it surely feels like one. 

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

Taglist:

@fanfic-viewer

@mysticpeachobject

@donttrustlove  

@r-3dlips 

@lolitsbuckybarnes 

@lilrios-world 

@iniyalovesall 

@beabfleab

@dojacatismywife 

@queenofshinigamis

@beersangel

@catchthewindd

@charismatic-writer

@freaky-dcaky

@scarlettoh

@drreidslove

@spicyytomatoyay

@kitty-kei

@sapphirecobalt-1

@jebesovovise

@cultish-corner

@areiofhope

@candid-confetti

@godilovetoomuch

@redros3y 

@gibson-g1rl

@bunnylov-3-r

@yokaimoon 

@glorioussunrise13

@idkimheretoreadonethibgofpsencdd

@pleasantwitchgarden

@issy25

@ilovechanyeol16

@gghostwriter

@stanswifties

@chicaconfundidaycuriosa

@dragon03138

@tbsloneely

@bloodredrubyrose

@rossemayme

@jackchampiongf13

@prentissmybeloved

@danielle-munya

@eliscannotdance

@keira-fitzsimmons

@jamieeboulos

@starofthedawn

@alikpo

@writingforoursouls

@marauder--harder

@spencers-love

@marauder--harder

@floverisland

[yncoreee]

CUTIE CUTIE. Eunchae x reader

Synopsis— your girlfriend got carried away babying you, she didn’t notice the door swinging open

Warnings .ᐟ requested, kissing, lil bit rushed (so sorry), they get caught, secret relationship au, idol x idol!reader, 06’ liner reader,happy eunchae day! Will try to post some of my many planned fics today but no promises, female reader, FLUFF

꩜ — ⵌWord count 886

The dorm was filled with nothing but the comforting silence. The other members were out doing one thing or the other for their leisure time. But you and eunchae decided it was best to stay alone at the dorm as the busy schedule through out the whole week had affected the rate at which you spent Time with each other (off cameras)

You laid comfortably on her laps humming in satisfaction as you scrolled through your phone. While her hands tangled in between the strands of your hair.

Being in a secret relationship especially of the same group had it’s peeks. The both of you hardly having any time for each other except when at the dorms. And always trying to act romantic in a platonic way in front of the members so as not to seem suspicious.

There we’re limits you and eunchae reached once you saw one of the older members giving you a raised eyebrow.

Today was one of the free lucky days the both of you had some time alone together. It usually got interrupted by one member or the other following the sequence oldest -> youngest.

The most recent person was kazuha so eunchae was guessing maybe it was sakura next.

“Do you think it’s kkura-Unnie that’s going to interrupt us this time?” Eunchae asked her hands beneath her chin.

You let out a chuckle at her prediction. “Mmm maybe, who knows. Maybe it will actually be all the members” you sighed, your cheeks slightly puffed with air.

“Awww you’re so cute, cutie cutie” eunchae cooed, her hands finding it’s way to reach your cheeks, lightly squishing it.

“Hey?!” You yelled pouting, immediately taking your head off her laps. You glared at her while your arms were folded across your chest, a light pout forming on your lips.

“Rahhh!!! Cuteness overload” eunchae squealed dramatically clutching onto her chest, her hands coming up to tickle your sides.

You let out small giggles, tears forming in your eyes from the non stop laughter. “Chae stop!” You said in between laughs.

“No way!”

Eunchae took a brief moment to admire your cuteness. She watched as a big smile was apparent on your mouth, your eyes forming into a crescent shaped to show how genuine the laughter was.

Slowly she unconsciously leaned in closer, her face was so close you could practically feel her breath tickling against yours. The more she leaned the closer your lips got.

It was about to meet finally until—

“WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE?!!” Chaewon yelled causing eunchae to immediately back off. The both of you turning to face the other members with widened eyes. Their expressions mirroring yours.

“Unnies….? Since when have you been standing there?” Eunchae nervously chuckled, scratching the back of her neck.

“Long enough to see you almost kissing y/n” sakura responded, looking at eunchae with unreadable expressions.

“Since when has this been going on?” Chaewon asked sternly, only raising one eyebrow.

“Ummm for about six months” you gulped, swallowing a huge lump down your throat. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look Any of them in the eye.

Your hands fumbled it way into interlocking with eunchae’s. She took your hand in hers looking over at you with a smile that said. “We got this”.

“OMG THEY LOOK SO CUTE TOGETHER!!!” Yunjin squealed taking note of the hand holding.

“Yunjin shut up.” Chaewon face palmed pulling yunjin back. “I’m honestly still speechless. But I want to hear the rest opinions on this. I personally don’t know if it’ll be better if you guys broke up” chaewon shrugged, eunchae looking at her with scared and sad faces.

“No no Unnie please….anything but that” you pleaded tears almost forming in your eyes.

“But—“

“They’re right chae, them breaking up won’t be the best idea. You know y/n and eunchae share a really close bond and that might affect their interactions in the group if they break up. I don’t think it’s much of a big deal and actually support them, as long as they’re both happy and they keep the relationship a secret” sakura stated, her wise words sinking into Chaewon’s head.

“You got a point there Unnie, what about you yunjin?” Chaewon asked turning to yunjin.

“Me? I honestly think they’re so so so cute together, like come on two babies in a relationship??? Rahhhh they’re even holding hands!” Yunjin burst into excitement, dramatically plopping herself right on the chair.

“Zuha?”

“Huh? I don’t know. I don’t have a problem with it. Plus Yunjin Unnie is right, they look so cute together” kazuha sighed dreamily.

“Mmm. Since most of you all—“

“Except you”

Chaewon glared at eunchae. “Yes except me, are fine by it. Then it’s final the couple stays”

Eunchae looked up at chaewon with sparkles in her eyes. “Omg thank you so much Unnies!!!” She jumped up and down excitedly. “So can I kiss y/n now?”

“NO!”

“Get a room”

“DEFINITELY!!!!!”

“I don’t know, I’m going to my room”

Eunchae didn’t mind the others comment and instead leaned closer to capture your lips.

Chaewon yelling in the background, sakura unbothered by it, yunjin squealing like a tire wheel, kazuha already off to bed.

“You’re the greatest thing that can happen to me” eunchae said, cupping your cheeks.

“HONG EUNCHAE I SAID NO!!”

[hannahluvsbillie]

one more chance?

casual part 4 ; final part

☆彡 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ~ you wake up to billie next to you; the memories of what happened last night flood your mind.

☆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ~ billie eilish x reader

☆ 𝐜𝐰 ~ none

ꨄ 𝐚/𝐧 ~ hi guys! this is the final part of casual, i think. thank you all for your support on this series! keep a eye out for new fics here 😉

you wake up to the sound of soft rain pattering on your window, the sound stirring you awake. you open your eyes, and suddenly feel a weight on top of your arm. your eyes widen and it all comes back to you.

last night billie cried in your arms for hours until you finally made her go to sleep. she never even told you what happened. originally you said you’d sleep on the couch, but when billie looked at you with those sad eyes, eyes that looked exhausted, and asked you to hold her, you couldn’t help but give in.

now, you’re regretting that decision. you gave into her, you told yourself you were done with her, you wouldn’t text her or let her into your house anymore- you especially wouldn’t let yourself get in the backseat of her porsche anymore.

you sigh, looking up at the ceiling lost in your thoughts.

suddenly you feel billie move a little, her arm wrapping around your waist and her head nuzzling into the crook of your neck. this is when you give up, you could tell she really needed someone right now, she needed you right now.

you shift a little and cradle her head in your hand, the other hand gently tracing shapes on her back. something about how she’s breathing told you this is the best she’s slept

in awhile.

a few minutes later she stirs, her arm moves from your waist for just a moment to rub her eyes. her face is still a little swollen.

when her eyes open and meet yours, she rests her head on your bicep, sighing.

“hey” she says lowly, her voice still raspy from sleeping. she looks at you like your the world to her, you remember that look, it no longer makes you feel good.

you smile weakly at her, exhaling a breathe that felt like you’ve been holding it forever.

“billie you know this was a bad idea.” you say, biting your lip without thinking.

you hear her swallow, her eyes straying from yours, moving to the wall behind you. “i know, i’m sorry. i just didn’t know what else to do- or who to call. you’re the only one that can handle me like that.” she says, looking away.

you sigh in defeat, rolling over a little and looking at the ceiling above you.

she sits up, moving from your arms. “y/n i know i fucked up okay, but these past few months have been hell without you. i can’t see other people without feeling guilty and i don’t know why.” she says, not looking at you once

you glance over at her, you can tell she’s being honest. billie doesn’t just say that.

“billie you made me feel used and when i told you, you told me i was dramatic.” you say, looking forward. you couldn’t bare to look at her in the eyes.

she sighs, turning to face you. “i realized that, i never once wanted to make you feel used. it’s just- you scare the shit out of me.” she says laughing softly like she can’t believe it, your brows furrow in response.

“it scares me- the way i feel about you, it was supposed to be just a causal fling. but when i wasn’t around you i felt like i was running on autopilot or some shit- the only time i felt alive was when i was with you. and it scared me. i didn’t know how to deal with it- and i didn’t want to ruin what we had” she says, looking over at you. she speaks like she’s been holding it in for months, which she probably has.

you look over at billie, your eyes soften seeing her expression.

“you wouldn’t of ruined what we had…” you speak softly, and she looks up at you

like she can’t believe it. she can’t believe you felt the same way all along.

“y/n im in love with you. i was 3 months ago and i am now.” she speaks, letting out a deep breath at the end of her sentence.

your brows raise, you never thought you’d hear her say those words.

“give me one more chance, please.” she says, looking into your eyes with desperation. you blink a few times, before gently cupping her face and kissing her.

it felt like a thousand fire works were set off, you missed her lips so much. the way they molded together so perfectly, it was like they were meant to be together. the way her hands gripped your waist was gentle. one of her hands go up and tangle in your hair, holding you in place.

you used to kiss and do this all the time- but this felt different, it wasn’t out of lust anymore, just pure love. it was a good kind of different though. it felt a lot better.

she was first to break the kiss, resting her forehead on yours, looking into your eyes. a soft smile lingers on her face. her hands gently brushing through your hair to smooth it out from her hands roaming your hair.

“so.. can i have one more chance?” she says, raising her brows with a little smile.

you take a moment to pretend like you were thinking about it, but you knew the answer already. you knew the answer the minute you blocked her even if you ignored it. you’d give her as many chances as she needed.

“yes.” you say, smiling back at her.

she giggles softly and kisses you again, her hands gripping your hips and pulling you on her lap playfully. small giggles were heard from both of you as you kissed, both you and billie’s hands roamed around the places you missed most.

maybe you’d regret this in the long run, but fuck if it didn’t feel good to be under her grip again.

[lunarsilver]

What do your spirit guides want to tell you?

For this reading, I used a deck with only Major Arcana, to get more general but "big", powerful messages. This is what your spirit guides want to tell and advise you really bad.

Arts are from volume covers of Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun.

REMEMBER

I’m not a doctor, a psychiatrist, a therapist nor a psychologist. Divination will never replace meetings with them.

It’s a general reading, so not everything will resonate.

If you can’t choose between two piles, probably both of them have some messages for you. You can also not identify with any of them, and that’s okay, too.

Readings can help you make a decision, but they shouldn’t be the main reason for making it.

1 ~ 2 3 ~ 4

PILE 1

Temperance - The High Priestess - The Sun R - Back of the Deck: The Emperor R

Maybe because the first two cards in my deck present women, plus especially because of the High Priestess, but what comes to my mind immediately is “femininity”. This is an encouragement to lean more into what is traditionally feminine. The more I look into the cards, the clearer this message is - there’s Temperance, the card of balance, there’s the feminine High Priestess, and there’s the masculine Emperor in reverse. Temperance asks you to balance your life more. Work-life balance, logic-emotions balance, as well as how you act around people. Your spirit guides suggest trying to work together and be a team player, both Temperance and the High Priestess tell you this. The High Priestess is also an invitation to trust your intuition more, to tap more into your spirituality. Maybe your spirit guides would like to talk more to you, and they wish you would let them. With the Sun in reverse, they suggest you should have some fun, do what brings you joy, and listen to your inner child. The Emperor in reverse suggests you could have a not fully healthy relationship with your traditionally masculine traits (I want to make this clear - I always write “traditionally” for a reason, think about it as your relationship with what society expects of you, with gender stereotypes). Your spirit guides want you to reflect on how you look at your relationships with other people. Treat them as your equals, they’re neither better nor worse than you. It won’t resonate with everyone, of course, but I keep having this image of someone working an office job who is kind of bitter and so focused on one aspect of their life that they forget the little joys of life and don’t treat their coworkers/subordinates nicely. So, to sum it up, reevaluate your priorities, find some time to be alone with your own thoughts, with your hobbies, and try to treat other people equally. And give your spirit guides a call.

PILE 2

Temperance R - The Hierophant R - The Hanged Man R - Back of the Deck: The Fool 

It’s interesting how, just like in Pile 1, the first card is Temperance, but this time in reverse. Similarly, the message here is to reevaluate what you give attention to and balance your life, but it’s even more urgent. It’s not wise to spend too much on something or to focus on only one aspect of your life, ignoring other ones. Your spirit guides tell you to put some time into self-healing and taking care of yourself. Maybe some home spa would be good, nurturing both your body and mind. Next, the Hierophant in reverse is all about making your own path, challenging the status  quo, and not caring as much about the approval of others. Your spirit guides encourage you to find your own voice and speak your mind. Do what is right for you. The reversed Hanged Man tells you it’s time to stop living your life on autopilot and actually start doing something. Think about what you would like to do, make a plan and do it. The Fool at the back just highlights how much your spirit guides want you to embark on a new journey. Don’t be scared of new beginnings. This whole reading emphasizes how important it is to make some changes in your life, and while doing so, keep in mind what will make you happy. You, not someone else. You are the master of your own fate, nobody else can live your life for you. Your spirit guides are with you, so stop merely existing and start to live. It may be scary at first, but you’ve got it!

PILE 3

The Star R - The Magician - The Hermit - Back of the Deck: The Wheel of Fortune

Right off the bat, there’s a lot of gold and some brown, white and blue color-wise, which makes me feel you should take a closer look at your finances and your earthly matters, but also don’t forget about the more spiritual things. Another interesting thing is how the Magician and the Hermit have a similar pose, both with their arms raised, as if creating something out of thin air or launching an attack. Now, getting to the cards themselves, you had a harder time, huh? The Star in reverse tells me that you could start to doubt whether there is something good for you in this life, whether some higher forces are there for you - and here your spirit guides are, screaming that yes, they are here for you, they always are. So nourish yourself, remember what’s important for you and what you want to do, and do it. The Magician says that, once you get in the right mindset, you have everything needed to manifest your desires. Stop self-loathing, stop procrastinating, it’s time to do the THING. Your passion project, your art, your book, your dance. With the Hermit, your spirit guides encourage you to look inward and take some time for yourself. As I wrote at the beginning, both the Magician and the Hermit in this deck have similar poses, they both create something, and they lay here next to each other. At the same time, there’s this interesting contrast, as one is more dark and blue and kind of nocturnal, while the other is gold and bright. I think these parallels are here to tell you how important it is to both think and act, as only then will you  create what you want. Only thinking about your goal won’t take you anywhere, only acting without thinking can lead to a catastrophe. With the Wheel of Fortune, your spirit guides once again tell you that you’re not alone and everything is temporary, nothing lasts forever. You may feel hopeless right now, but “this too shall pass”.

PILE 4

The Moon - The Chariot R - Strength - Back of the Deck: The Hermit

This pile is all about being with you yourself. Your spirit guides encourage you to have some alone time and not act recklessly. The Moon is about your fears - your spirit guides encourage you to deal with them and stop running away. However, it’s more about healing your inner child and doing some shadow work than about dealing with them in a more physical way. Write a journal, think about therapy. There are some issues here that you need to work through. Tap more into your intuition and be patient, as you may not have the full picture right now. Next, the Chariot and Strength are both about, well, strength - but the Chariot is more about the outer strength and will, while Strength is more about the inner one. And here we have the reversed Chariot. Both of these cards together emphasize how you should work on your self-discipline and commitment. You have this kind of quiet strength for influencing and persuading without raising your voice. This kind of confidence and strength is not as visible as the loud one, but it isn’t a reason to underestimate you. The Hermit at the back yet again tells you to look into yourself and spend some time with your thoughts. Your spirit guides think you can do a lot of things once you start dealing with your fears and insecurities and realize you can be powerful in more ways than one. Your inner strength is your power.

[tripleglitchwriting]

I heard you're up for writing prowl (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)!! Maybe just cute moments of reader and prowl cuddling or baking.... anything thats cute

I did it! I posted something!! Yippee!!!

This is fluffy prowl and reader movie night!!

It’s technically Earthspark Prowl, but I didn’t really do much of a deep dive into his character so it’s just kind of an amalgamation of Prowl’s in my head.

Anyway, enjoy :-)

Movie night. Your favorite time. It just happened to be incredibly difficult to set up with a guy hellbent on working 24/7. Luckily, you knew how to be creative by now. And so when you located a particularly bountiful energon deposit, a plan started to come together.

…

“Don’t.” He rumbled, “Do not touch that.”

Prowl loomed over you like an angry building, but you knew better than to be worried. The mine you’d “accidentally” found was a treasure trove of glittering, luminescent crystals reminiscent of the fantasy worlds in your dreams. It was beautiful, but not your mission. His, maybe, but not yours.

Being about the size of Prowl’s palm, you had to watch your step everywhere you went, else you somehow impale yourself on an energon shard. Of course, you used this to your advantage.

“Hm? Why? You scared?” You teased, just slightly poking the tip of a particularly sharp one.

“No, I’m concerned. You’re going to get yourself hurt.”

“What’s the problem? I see you drinking this stuff all the time!”

“Yes. Because I run on it, you don’t— it’s not even processed yet! So stop touching it.”

“Oh… I don’t know, it looks pretty delicious…”

“Are you glitched?”

“We’re about to find out!” You just about graze your teeth on a crystal before you are unceremoniously yanked away by a gigantic metal hand.

“Seriously, what in Primus’s name do you think you’re— oh. Oh. You little— don’t give me that, I can see what you’re doing!”

“Oh? And what am I doing exactly?” You grinned. He growled back.

“You have the right to remain silent. We’re going back to base and reporting this to Prime.”

And so you did. And he carried you the entire way back. You didn’t want to stay there for any longer than you had to, as pretty as it was, because tonight was movie night.

Prowl never left a job unfinished when it was right in front of his face. You suspected he would try and execute every procedure ever passed into law when it came to new energon deposits on an alien planet, even if he’d been living there for months now. And he would’ve done it right there. Standing in the equivalent to a cave full of explosives. Like a stubborn idiot.

You also knew that, if he didn’t do it, the rest of the Autobots would. Like they’re supposed to. Because it’s their job. With a mine like that, they’d be occupied for the entire night. How convenient…

…

When you finally arrived back at headquarters, he was already heading to his office. “Office” being a loose term here, as it was really just a room he put a desk, chair, and datapads in. The most basic, bland, boring kind. That was all he needed.

But not you. And you were going to make sure your plans went through.

“PROOOOOWL!!” You yowled right next to his audial receptor. He’d been doing whatever important report, but you figured it could wait.

“AGH!” He jointed up in his head, “WHAT?!”

“It’s almost time! Movie night!”

“Oh- you little fragging scraplet, can’t you see I’m doing something important?”

“More important than Terminator? Or Robocop?”

“Leagues more important than those sorry excuses for mechanical representation.”

“Oh, fine, I’ll just… put on Spaceballs…” He stopped.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would. And I’d play it so loud that you could never focus on your work.”

“Don’t—” but you had already slid down his desk, racing to the adjacent room.

“YOU— DO NOT PLAY THAT AWFUL FILM!”

“I can’t hear you over the sounds of LONE STARR and his GOOFY GANG of SILLY characters!”

He could never catch you in time. Not because he wasn’t fast enough, no, he could pick you up in a second, but because you already had the trap set. The room you’d ran into was decked out with the best projector tech you could find. (AKA, the best projector tech you could convince Nightshade to make without turning the movie into a 5D nightmare) You had popcorn, energon candy, a mountain of blankets, and quite the wide array of tasteful films.

When he finally entered your snare, you received the most withering death glare known to mankind. But everything that withers must also bloom, and you could see joy behind his optics. Mostly because they were shining significantly brighter than usual. Hah, and he thinks you can’t tell when he’s hiding his real feelings.

The fairy lights you’d set up glowed a beautiful gold against otherwise dark corners. Your face was just slightly visible, especially with how small it was compared to him, but you knew he could see your beaming smile. He let out an exaggerated ex-vent, doorwings forcefully dropping and optics rolling. Still, once he finally sat down next to you, you saw them perk right back up again.

“We aren’t watching that horrendous mockery of a movie, right?”

“Psh, I don’t even have the DVD anymore. You broke it after flipping the table. Tonight, you get to decide what we watch.”

“Wait, I… but I thought you enjoyed choosing the film.”

“Sure I do. But I want to watch what you want to watch tonight.”

And his optics grew bright again, illuminating your wide selection of 80’s, 90’s, and early 2000’s DVDs. Breakfast Club, Mean Girls, Star Wars, The Godfather, Planet of the Apes… everything you could think of he hadn’t already seen.

So you were a little caught off guard when he chose The Princess Bride. Something he’d seen nearly ten times already.

Oh, sure, he played it off as an excuse to ‘get to know human culture’, but the same could be said for every other movie on the planet. You didn’t argue.

As the night progressed, you were eventually able to get him to pick you up. For a guy who claims to dislike soft things, he sure does put up with a lot of pillows and blankets for you.

You tried not to move when he unconsciously ran a digit down your back. Or when he pet your hair. Or when he adjusted himself to make sure you weren’t about to fall out of his fabric covered palm.

You fell asleep long before the movie ended. You couldn’t possibly know that he denied every call on his comm link, shooed away any bot curious enough to crack open the door, and completely forgot about the report that had been oh so important earlier.

You also couldn’t know that, had he wanted to, he could just turn his audials off if he didn’t want to hear you watch Spaceballs. He could’ve left you at the base when he realized you’d stumbled upon an energon mine. He could’ve made you leave his office when he worked on his reports. But he didn’t. He didn’t because the minuscule weight you provided in his servos was everything he needed.

Work could wait just a little longer. Tonight was movie night.

[infinite--92]

The Little Joy of the Family

Lily and Sophie had hit it off almost instantly. They were the same age, shared similar interests, and now, the same unique experience of living with this condition. It felt refreshing for both of them to find someone their age who truly understood what they were going through. One afternoon, after spending time at Miranda’s house with the other members of Infinite 92, Lily extended an invitation to Sophie.

"Hey, how about you come over to my place this weekend?" Lily suggested with a bright smile. "I'd love for you to meet my younger sister, Hannah. She's 18 and has the same condition as us. I think it would be great for her to meet someone new who understands."

Sophie, eager to deepen her bond with Lily and curious to meet her sister, agreed immediately. "I'd love to! It would be nice to meet another person who’s going through the same thing."

A Visit to Lily's Home

The weekend came quickly, and Sophie found herself at Lily's doorstep, greeted warmly by Lily. "Welcome! Come in, make yourself at home," Lily said, ushering Sophie inside. The home was cozy and welcoming, filled with pictures of family moments and a comforting atmosphere.

"Hannah's just finishing up in the shower," Lily explained as she led Sophie to the living room. "She’ll be out in a minute. I’m really excited for you two to meet. She’s a bit shy, but I think you’ll get along well."

Sophie settled onto the couch, admiring the warmth of the space. It felt lived-in, full of love and memories. She could see glimpses of Claire in the family photos—her round belly in every picture, even in her wedding dress, surrounded by smiles and joy.

After a few moments, the sound of footsteps approached. Sophie looked up as Hannah emerged from the hallway, still drying her hair with a towel. She was dressed casually in a loose, pale blue t-shirt and shorts, but the unmistakable roundness of her belly was clearly visible. It was slightly smaller than Lily’s and Sophie’s, but just as pronounced. She had a soft, youthful face, with wide blue eyes that showed a mixture of curiosity and shyness.

Meeting Hannah

Hannah paused for a moment, seemingly surprised to see Sophie. Then she gave a shy smile. "Hi, you must be Sophie," she said, her voice soft. "Lily’s told me a lot about you."

Sophie stood up and smiled warmly. "Hi, Hannah! It’s so nice to meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you too. I’m really glad we can meet."

Hannah blushed slightly, her shyness evident, but there was a spark of excitement in her eyes. “I’ve never met anyone else like me before,” she admitted quietly as she joined them on the couch. “I mean, apart from Lily and Mom.”

Lily sat down next to her sister, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I thought it would be nice for you two to get to know each other. Sophie’s going through a lot of the same things you are, and I think you’ll find you have a lot in common.”

Connecting Over Shared Experiences

The three girls spent the afternoon talking, sharing stories about their experiences and the journey they were on. Hannah opened up gradually, her initial shyness fading as she found common ground with Sophie.

“It started for me around 15,” Hannah explained. “Just like Mom said it would. At first, I was so scared. I didn’t know what was happening to my body, and I felt like everyone at school was staring at me.”

Sophie nodded, understanding the feeling all too well. “I went through something similar. I only found out a few months ago, and it was really overwhelming. But meeting people like Lily and the others has helped me a lot.”

Hannah gave a small smile, looking at her sister with gratitude. “Lily’s been my biggest support. I don’t know how I would’ve handled it without her. She helped me see that this isn’t something to be ashamed of.”

Lily grinned and nudged her sister playfully. “And now you’ve got even more people to support you. Sophie’s been a great friend to me, and I know she’ll be a great friend to you too.”

Finding Comfort in Each Other

As the afternoon turned into evening, the girls continued talking, laughing, and bonding over their shared experiences. They spoke about the stares they received from strangers, the uncomfortable questions, and the gradual journey toward accepting their bodies.

Sophie noticed how Hannah began to relax more and even laugh openly as they talked. It was clear she had been holding a lot of her feelings inside, and this was the first time she had the chance to speak openly with someone her age who truly understood.

“I’ve always been so self-conscious about going out,” Hannah admitted. “Even though Mom and Lily have been through it, I felt like I was the only one. Seeing you, Sophie, and knowing there are others like us, it makes me feel... less alone.”

Sophie reached out and took Hannah’s hand gently. “You’re definitely not alone, Hannah. We’re all in this together now. And we have a whole community of amazing women who understand what it’s like. You’re part of that now too.”

Hannah’s eyes welled up slightly, and she gave Sophie a grateful smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

A New Friendship Blossoms

The evening wrapped up with Lily ordering takeout, and the three girls shared a meal together, chatting about their favourite shows, hobbies, and their hopes for the future. By the time Sophie left, she felt a deep sense of connection with both Lily and Hannah. It was like finding another piece of the puzzle in this unexpected journey they were all on.

As Sophie hugged Lily and Hannah goodbye at the door, she felt a warmth in her heart. Despite the challenges ahead, she knew she had found true friends in these sisters, and together, they could face whatever came next.

And for Hannah, this meeting marked a turning point. She no longer felt like she was facing this strange condition on her own. With her sister by her side, and now Sophie as a new friend, she felt hopeful for the first time in a long while. The bond between the three girls was the start of a beautiful friendship, one that would grow stronger as they navigated their unique journey together within the loving support of Infinite 92.

[paranoiddreams]

Random Headcannons: Yuji✰

ღ Warnings!! - Sukuna is a whole tw, some of them are a little suggestive but in a goofy way (?), me just yapping tbh, explicit language, mentions of Drake😖, marijuana use🍃, ADHD mentions, he’s kinda brainrotted okay?

ღ A/n!! - Some may be ooc to yall but this is how I see him in my head tbh😭 I’m just going off of vibes. Lmk who you want next! Requests for any fandom on my navi are always welcome!! I’m also working on a longer fic rn, so to that anon who sent a Sukuna request (yk who you are), it’s coming soon🫵🏻😈

Masterlist | navi

Was so invested in the Kendrick Lamar vs. Drake situation Imao. He knew everything that happened from when it started to when it unofficially ended.

Yaps about it to anyone who will listen, and let’s be honest, everyone will because he's such a charming guy

Might just be me, but I feel strongly that Yuji had an emo phase in his middle schools years. I'm talking My Chemical Romance kinda emo, yk, the freaky ones

Not speaking out of experience or anything haha😶‍🌫️

Does actually love J law, and will watch compilations on YouTube at 3 am. What can he say? He's a loyal man.

He watches CaseOh 100% and does have notifs for him on

Chronic iPad kid, it's bad

And to make things worse he can't eat without watching anything (like most of us let's be fr)

He uses the excuse that "kings have always had entertainment while they feast back in the day, what's the difference?”

Sukuna literally couldn't be more ashamed to be in this gen z brainrot teenager's body.

DOES NOT play around when it comes to a Roblox tycoon. Don't cross ma boy in his tycoons.

Actually talks to Sukuna telepathically(?) sometimes. Like when he's bored he'll just-

"Sukuna, do you actually have two dicks?"

"Shut the fuck up."

Most likely listens to Tame Impala, Cuco, Suicideboy$, maybe even a little Pierce the veil time to time. Also loves K-pop and girl groups like BTS, New Jeans, and ENHYPHEN.

His biases are Jungkook, Hanni, & Jake :3

Considered using his hand mouth thing to jerk off one time, but was swiftly turned away from the idea when Sukuna heard him think of it and told him he'd kill him instantly : (

Smokes 🍃 every once in a while when he has a weekend free

He’s a talker when he’s high fs

Will go off about conspiracy theories, and this sounds cliche, but istg he would do this shi

He’s a genuine conspiracy theorist when he’s sober too tbh

But Indica gets him talking🤝

I kinda wrote abt this in one of my requests, but I think that Yuji is a huge fan of getting scared and just having that thrill

Haunted houses, scary movies, music, stories, he loves all of it.

I mean, Gojo made him watch like one million bajillion (real) movies, so ofc he’s grown a fondness for anything over the top disturbing/cheesy

He’s one of those people who’s annoyingly good at everything he tries on the FIRST try.

He doesn’t mean to, but he will one up anyone he’s in the room with😭

Yuji DOES NOT fuck with Xbox, he’s a PlayStation girlie✨

He has a thing for chubby girls 😶‍🌫️ just dropping this here bc I may or may not have smth in the works…

He’d be able to make friends with a roach in the corner of the room, he’s such a caring, compassionate guy, but we already knew this.

Gives ADHD realness

Has definitely called Gojo ‘dad’ by accident a few times before.

Strikes me as the type to flirt and not even realize…

F2L &/or grumpy x sunshine vibes all the way!!!

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 3x14 Long Distance Call

“I’m scared, Sam. I’m really scared.”

Dean’s admission echoes in Sam’s aching head as they sit beside each other, on their respective motel beds, drinking beer and nursing their bruises, while the TV flickers ominously in the darkening room. Dean’s found an old horror movie that he must’ve watched so often he knows it by heart, mouthing some of the lines in sync with the characters, his swollen face lighting up in childlike joy at the outdated, involuntarily comical jump scares.

Sam could never get behind his brother’s enthusiasm for horror flicks. In his opinion, they’re dealing with enough horror in real life as it is. Why Dean would find relaxation - even joy - in watching people getting terrorized and torn apart by monsters, aliens or (worst of all) other humans is beyond him. Why he would fill what little downtime they have with even more fear and blood and pain is something Sam will never understand.

He also can’t get behind the sudden insouciance that Dean is showing, sitting rapt in front of the TV, their earlier conversation about Dean dying in three weeks seemingly forgotten. Very possibly, it’s just a front - a mask he’s put on to disguise the very emotions he admitted to only twenty minutes ago. Up to anyone’s guess whether he’s protecting himself or Sam by sliding back into the brave act he’s put on for months now. Pressed, Sam would guess the latter. In the end, it’s his modus operandi, and as much as Sam rebels against needing protection - he’s twenty-five now, for god��s sake - he believes that, by correlation, it’s what keeps Dean together. Taking care of Sam means he can’t fall apart. Not even three weeks from going to Hell.

Sam shudders.

“Ohhhh– that was nasty, wa’n’t it?” Dean grins at him, pointing at a slashed-up body on the TV screen, the insane killer silently walking out of the frame, machete dripping blood.

Sam shakes his head, albeit carefully, his brain still sloshy from getting knocked out earlier. How can Dean find gory murder amusing when he’s about to get ripped apart himself? He suppresses the ‘A little too close to home, don’t you think’ he’s got on the tip of his tongue.

Dean slaps Sam’s leg. “Oh come on, Sammy! Admit it - it’s funny!”

Sam doesn’t laugh. “Haha.”

“Wuss.” 

A knock on their door pulls Sam out of his thoughts and Dean away from the screen. 

“Papa John’s Pizza!” someone announces cheerlessly outside and knocks again, impatient. “Your order’s here!”

Rubbing his hands in anticipation, Dean gets up and, after checking through the window, he opens the door to a weary-looking twenty-something in a red-and-white uniform holding a family-sized pizza box out to him. Dean pays and tips him generously. That, too, is his modus operandi: they may be near-broke most of the time, but Dean never lets a person with a shit, low-paying job go without a tip. He’d rather not order at all. Sam can’t remember if that’s something Dad taught him, but he doesn’t think so. 

Door shut and locked, Dean returns to his bed with the steaming box and opens it, his eyes already swinging back to the TV where the crazed machete murderer is stalking his next victim.

“He’s in for a surprise with that one,” he comments cheerfully before he maneuvers a slice of pizza out of the box and bites off, sauce dripping down his chin and onto the bed. Sam wants to say something about the sheets and using napkins, but he doesn’t have it in him. As much as he complains all the time about Dean’s messy eating, he knows he’s going to miss it when–

No. He’s not gonna go there.. They’ll find a way to save Dean. It’s not gonna-

“Dude! You’re not even looking!” Dean admonishes, chewing. “This is the best part! The Final Girl!” 

There’s screaming on the screen, blood splattering all over the place, and the killer growls and snarls like some rabid dog. It sounds way too much like a Hell Hound. Sam swallows.

“Dude, you okay? Lord of the Flies leave you with a concussion after all?” 

Dean’s eyes are on him now, giving him the full Winchester-X-ray scrutiny, pizza and movie momentarily forgotten.

While it’s true that the Crocotta knocked him out, Sam doesn’t think he has a concussion. His head hurts, and he’s a little dizzy, but he can see straight and he doesn’t feel like throwing up the two beers he just drank. No, the lump in his throat is nothing but dread, pushing up through the bravado he, too, has been putting on for Dean. 

“D’you want a poem?” he’d joked earlier, to kill the tension and knock Dean out of his panic. It had worked. Humor sometimes was the only thing that worked when his older brother was spiraling. Humor or pure, physical force. And Dean needs him. No matter the show he’s putting on, Sam sees it in the taut line of his shoulders and hears it in his exaggerated laughter. Behind the pretend mirth, despair still glimmers in the green of his eyes. 

For once, Sam’s got to be the one to lean on. He can’t waver now.

“I’m fine,” he says, waving at the TV. “Just that Pizza Face over there is not exactly making my mouth water.” More blood sprays on the screen as the triumphant Final Girl takes an ice pick to the killer’s ugly face. Sam pointedly wrinkles his nose. “Yuck.”

Mollified, Dean chuckles. “Lightweight.” He takes another hearty pizza bite and licks a string of cheese from his split lip. “Wait till you see what happens with the teacher in part two! Guy knows how to handle a chainsaw, I’m not kiddin’!”

“There’s a part two?” Sam asks, horrified. Why anyone would want to watch a sequel to this ludicrous garbage eludes him.

Dean grins devilishly, although it must be hurting his badly bruised cheek. “Yeah, and it’s on right after. A marathon, in fact. Parts one through four back-to-back.”

Sam has to keep himself from sagging in dismay, and he stops the agonized groan that wants to slip out of him. A whole night of battling insomnia and the monsters waiting for Dean in Hell with badly made-up, fictional monsters prowling over a scratched TV screen - it’s not his idea of conquering fear. But, apparently, it’s Dean’s, and if this is what his brother needs, if this is what helps him face the nightmare waiting ahead, Sam will be by his side. In this dismal motel room and in the three weeks to come.

“Alright then. Pass me a slice,” he says, gesturing at the pizza, to a crescendo of screaming coming from the TV. “And another beer.”

Dean’s grin widens, and if he’s still scared underneath the twinkle in his eyes and the bright flash of his teeth, it’s hard even for Sam to detect. “That’s my boy!” 

He balances a slice from Sam’s veggie half of the pizza onto a napkin and hands it to him, followed by a fresh beer that he pops open with his ring.“Get comfortable, dude,” Dean instructs joyfully, rearranging the pillows between his back and the headboard. Then he lifts his beer bottle to toast to Sam. “It’s gonna be a looong night.”

Sam toasts back, a twinge in his chest. Twenty-one nights left. It’s time they start making them count.

The Damage Control Series Masterlist

Read the whole series on AO3 here:

[cherrypeaking]

i think we are getting to a point where taehyun might actually start stripping on stage cause….

[unsurebazookacore]

welp… guess I’m not coming out for the next four years either :)

[milo-is-rambling]

I can’t even imagine living without anxiety. Like. How. What?

[starlooove]

“Big sis general” “uncle Donnie” ok

[chosok-amo]

GOOD GIRL GO TO HEAVEN

GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU . . . after a long day of assembling a lot of furniture and decorating your new house, they decided they want to test drive the new bed with you.

warning : painfully slow, threesome! satosugu, raw/unprotected sex, humping, daddy kink (just a little bit), praise kink.

w/c : 8k

you and your boyfriends, gojo satoru and geto suguru, wrapped up the furniture assembly just an hour ago. now, they’re lounging comfortably on the new bed, looking relaxed and content. after finishing your shower, you step out wrapped only in a towel, the warm steam still clinging to your skin. you walk over to your wardrobe, glancing over at them with a playful smile.

“so, how’s the bed, honey?” you ask with genuine curiosity. your voice is soft, dripping with tenderness.

“it’s great and so spacious, baby,” gojo answers. he sits up on the bed, his white shirt hugging his toned chest, and watches you approach the wardrobe. beside him, geto moves, spreading his legs languidly as he leans back against the headboard. the sheets fall around his hips, barely covering his lower half. he gives you a lazy smile. “the bed’s not the only thing that spacious here, right, sweetheart?”

“yeah?” you turn around to look at them before pulling out a black oversized t-shirt that belongs to geto from the wardrobe. they stare at you for a moment before gojo opens his mouth. “come here.” gojo says, patting his lap. you look at him and see the mischievous look in his eyes, “i need to… see something.” geto chuckles, knowing full well what gojo plans to do. “you heard him, baby,” he added.

“what?” you ask him, smiling as you refuse to walk over to him and stand in your place.

“i said come here,” he says again, a demanding undertone in his voice now. gojo stares at you pointedly while geto watches with a smirk on his face, his eyes roaming unabashedly over your half-naked body.

“i’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you’re planning to do,” you respond, cocking an eyebrow. gojo’s hand pats his lap again impatiently. “i’ll show you when you come here.” geto rolls his eyes with a smile on his face, “just come here, baby girl. be good for us and i promise we’ll make you feel good too.”

“should i?” you playfully ask and close your wardrobe door. “you should, if you know what’s good for you,” gojo demand, a small smirk stretches across gojo’s face. by now he’s growing a little impatient. gojo is not a man who particularly likes to repeat himself.

“unless you want me to come get you myself?” he raises an eyebrow in challenge. behind him, geto chuckles to himself, clearly enjoying this interaction between you two.

“oh, i'm scared,” you sarcastically replied but made your way towards them, crawling from the feet of the bed before settling on gojo's lap. as you crawl over, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in until you’re sitting on his lap, the towel around your body riding up. gojo’s hands start to wander, lightly caressing your bare thighs. you can feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“are you gonna behave now, baby?” he asks, his voice low and sultry, “or are you still gonna sass me?” his blue eyes piercing through yours, making all the playfulness on you start to disappear, “sorry..” you mumble.

“you��ll have to do better than that,” he murmurs. gojo’s hands slide up your thighs, past the towel, as he leans in until his mouth is right next to your ear. “say you’re sorry again, sweetheart.”

“sorry, daddy..”

gojo lets out a soft grunt when you call him that, his mouth is still close to your ear. his breath is warm on your neck, “much better, baby.” he moves his mouth down until he’s nuzzling your throat instead. “there you go, being good for me, sweetheart.”

geto has been watching quietly until now, his eyes trained on the two of you as you sit on gojo’s lap. when you say ‘daddy’ his eyes darken a little more, watching intently as gojo turns his attention to your bare shoulders. “you look so good on his lap, don’t you sweetheart?” geto suddenly speaks up, his voice a little husky. “all bare and pretty just for us.”

the room feels warmer now like the heat is starting to build up around the three of you. gojo’s mouth brushes over your shoulder, his lips leaving a trail of kisses on your skin. “look at you, all nice and obedient,” he murmurs against your skin. “do you know what good girls get when they're being good?”

you close your eyes as you feel his lips on your skin— suddenly feeling all cold and chilling just from his touch, barely. “what is it?” you mumble a question.

“rewards.”

gojo’s arms tighten around you, pulling you closer to him. his mouth drifts towards your neck. “if you keep being good, we’ll reward you properly, sweetheart. would you like that?” he pulled himself away from you to look you in the eye as you opened your eyes. your warm breath gently glazed gojo's pale skin, bringing a crushed cherry tint to his cheeks. “yes, please..” your voice soft.

gojo smiles, running his finger along your spine, making you shiver, and a soft moan leaves your lips. “see, that’s what i like to hear. you sound so much sweeter when you’re being a good girl.” gojo’s voice is low, and he’s speaking close to your ear again. he moves a hand up, tilting your head till he can look you in the face. his smile is a little smug as he looks down at you. “how about we get rid of this towel?” you nodded when you looked at him, eyes hooded.

“good girl.”

gojo reaches behind you, finding the edge of the towel around your body. he slowly starts to pull it away, his eyes never leaving your face. the towel falls, the fabric pooling around your waist as your chest and abdomen are left bare. gojo hums in approval, his eyes roaming over your body. “there that’s much better.”

“look at you,” he murmurs. his hands on your thighs start to slowly move further up your body, roaming up your hips and over your ribcage, almost as if he's trying to memorize every part of you with just his hands. “you look so pretty, sweetheart. you're being so good for us. so pretty and obedient.”

“oh, you are so pretty,” geto adds, his voice soft as he looks at you sitting half-naked on gojo’s lap. he’s lounging against the headboard now, legs slightly spread. the sheets over his lap are beginning to tent.

gojo chuckles as he notices geto’s current state. “see what you do to him, sweetheart?” gojo’s own hands are still roaming over your body, caressing your soft skin. his hands brush just below your chest, his touch gentle and almost reverential as he looks at you.

gojo’s mouth moves over your skin, his lips tracing up and down the line of your throat until he reaches your ear again. “look at him,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. he’s looking over at geto right now, who’s watching the two of you intently, his eyes on your body. “he’s enjoying himself, sweetheart. he’s enjoying seeing you in my lap, like the good girl you are.”

geto looks you over with unabashed interest, his gaze roaming over your body. “you’re such a sight to see all spread out like that,” he murmurs. the sheets over his lap are tented, more noticeably now. gojo nips at your earlobe, his hands cupping your ribs as he pulls you closer against him. “look how much he wants you, baby.”

gojo laughs faintly when you let out a moan, like he finds it endearing. “you like that, sweetheart?” he asks, his mouth still against your skin. “you like it when i bite you?"

he continues doing it, his mouth trailing down the side of your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin and leaving small marks. you answer him by letting out another soft moan.

“you’re so soft,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by your skin. “so easy to mark. i want to see how much of you i can mark up, doll.”

geto shifts a little on the bed, his hands gripping his thighs through the sheets. the tent in his pants is more obvious now, and he’s watching you both intently. “she’s going to be covered in marks at this rate,” he grumbles.

“i’m not hearing any objections,” gojo responds, his hands caressing your sides. he lifts his head from your neck and looks at you.

gojo’s eyes darken as he looks you over, his hands continuing to caress your sides. he’s clearly enjoying seeing you in this state, all bare and on his lap, with geto watching you intently from the bed.

“you look so pretty like this, sweetheart. all bare and marked up on my lap” he murmurs, his gaze roaming over the various marks he’s left on your neck. “and so obedient,” he added.

“i am?” you whispering, voice cover with hope.

at your words, gojo smiles against your skin. they exchange knowing looks before gojo answers you. “yes, you are, baby.” he continues his assault on your neck, his kisses slowly turning into nibbles and sucking motions, marking you with his mouth.

geto watches hungrily as gojo lays claim to you, his hand still tracing lazy patterns on your thigh from where he sits. “so sweet, so perfect for us,” he compliments, his voice low and rough with desire.

“you’re so responsive too, aren’t you?” gojo’s hands wander down to your bare thighs. he squeezes them gently as if testing your reaction. “responding so well to my touch. so eager to please,” he moaned.

geto lets out a small sigh from the bed, his hands now clenching the sheets around his lap tightly. your thigh slightly twitches from gojo's touch as if to show him the truth of his words. “see how you respond so easily to my hands?” gojo continues, his palms continuing to caress your thighs. he’s watching your reactions intently. “that’s good, sweetheart. it’s so fun to see how easily you respond.”

“it’s getting hard to watch,” geto suddenly mutters from the bed, his voice strained. gojo laughs faintly at geto’s comment. “then stop watching if it’s so easy,” he replies, his hands continuing their gentle caresses.

he pulls you a little closer to him, so you’re pressed even more against his chest. “why are you getting so worked up anyway? you’re acting like you’re not going to get your turn.” gojo looks over at geto and smirks again, clearly enjoying his struggle.

“don’t worry,” he calls out. “you’ll get a turn soon too.” he turns his attention back to you, his hands still wandering over your thighs. “right now i want to see how far i can get you with just my hands, okay?” his blue eyes back to you, gently as he drinks on the sight of your pretty face. geto grumbles a little in response, clearly not enjoying his current state all that much.

gojo’s hands continue to explore your thighs, his touch gentle and almost teasing as his thumbs graze over sensitive skin. “do you think you can handle that, baby?” gojo asks, looking you in the face. “just my hands on your skin?”

you hesitate, wanting to feel his lips on your skin again, but you're too shy to ask, and gojo can clearly see that. gojo smirks at your expression and the way you fidget. “what’s wrong?” he asks teasingly, his hands skimming across your thighs. “can’t seem to find your words? what is it, sweetheart?” his hands continue their slow exploration of your thighs. “you want something?”

when you do not say anything he leans over, lips almost touching you as he speaks, “do you want my lips on your skin again?” he asks, his voice low and sultry. “do you want me to kiss you again, baby?” you nodded as his hands moving up to your hips now. he starts to guide your movements on his lap slightly, just little rocks of your hips.

“use your words, sweetheart. you know i want to hear you say it.” gojo starts to guide your hips, rocking them gently against his lap. his hands on your hips are firm but gentle, as he guides your movements with ease, his body pressed tightly against you.

“i-i want your lips on my skin again..” you murmur, your lips slightly apart. gojo looks at you with his eyebrows arise, as if asking you if you're forgetting something. “please, daddy. . . ” you add.

gojo’s expression softens at the sound of you calling him daddy again. he gives you a small nod as if approving before he speaks. “there you go. that wasn’t so hard, was it?” his hands on your hips continue to guide your movements on his lap. “just good manners, sweetheart. being a good girl for me.”

he leans down, his mouth coming close to your ear again. “since you asked so nicely, i’ll give you what you want, baby.”

instantly, a big smile makes its way to your lips, “thank you, daddy. . .” your hand flaying for a second before it lends on gojo's shoulder, holding him for support. gojo chuckles faintly at the large smile on your face, knowing how much fun you have playing with his kink. “such a good girl,” he murmurs into your ear, his hands continuing to guide your hips and rock against his lap.

“i’m going to give you what you want, so just relax, okay?” gojo’s voice is low and soft in your ear. “just sit there and be a good girl… you can do that, can’t you?” you nodded as you gripped tightly around his white shirt.

“good girl.”

gojo’s mouth moves towards your neck, his teeth and mouth on your skin again. he sucks on your skin gently, his tongue laving over the small mark he’s just made. “you taste so good, sweetheart,” he mutters against your skin. “i don’t want to stop marking you up.”

you moan softly, slightly throwing your head back, “please, don't.” gojo nips and sucks on your neck again, harder this time, his hands on your hips coaxing your movements against his lap.

“keep moaning like that, and i don’t think i’ll be able to stop,” he murmurs, his mouth against your skin. he continues to mark up your skin, his mouth moving up and down the side of your neck, his mouth sucking and biting gently as his tongue laves over the reddened spots. by now your neck is covered in his marks, each one adding up like a trail on your skin.

“oh, god,” you moan from the pleasure of his lips on your skin and from grinding on him. gojo lets out a soft chuckle when you moan against his ear. “already getting worked up just from this, hmm? you’re so sensitive, baby.” he continues sucking on your skin, his hands guiding your hips as you grind on his lap. his mouth moves over your sensitive spots, leaving a trail of marks from your jaw to the base of your collarbone.

geto groans in annoyance as he takes another glare at you and gojo. even in his annoyance, he can't stop looking at the two of you and not feeling jealous. gojo glances over at geto, taking in his expression. “getting impatient?” he asks, his mouth still on your skin. “you look like you’re having a hard time just watching,” he teased, blue eyes glistening with lust and playfulness.

“well, i am having a hard time,” he complained.

gojo chuckles against your skin again. “i see that,” he says mockingly, his eyes on the obvious tent in geto’s lap. “poor geto, having to watch us while he’s stuck on the bed all alone.” gojo’s words are almost patronizing, and he’s clearly enjoying himself now, seeing the look on geto’s face and the way he’s straining against the sheets.

“but that’s not fair for me, is it?” geto threw another complaint with a teasing tone, “i want a taste of her too.” gojo laughed faintly, clearly amused at geto’s words. “life’s not fair,” he replies, his mouth still against your skin, biting and licking.

“though i’ll admit, i’ve been a little greedy, haven’t i?” gojo lifts his head and looks you in the face, one hand caressing your cheek. “how about you, sweetheart? should i stop hogging all the attention?” you look at geto, seeing the pleading in his purple irises as he begs you silently. you chuckled at his expression before nodding and looking at your other boyfriend.

gojo looks at you for a moment, almost as if he’s contemplating. “are you sure? i can keep my hands on you a while longer. you seem to be enjoying it so much,” he softly spoke as if he tries to convince you to say no to geto. gojo’s hands have drifted back to your hips, his thumbs caressing your skin gently. “can the both of you just touch me?” you get impatient. gojo laughs again, clearly enjoying how impatient you’re getting now. “look at you being so eager,” he teases. “is that how good girls ask for what they want?”

you wrap your fingers around gojo's neck to give it a open-mouthed kiss before mumbling on his neck, “i mean, why can i have one when i can get two.”

gojo lets out a soft chuckle at your words. “oh, you’re getting feisty now, hmm?” he pulls you a little closer on his lap, his hands gripping your hips. “you have a point, sweetheart. but that doesn’t change the fact that i like having you all to myself.”

“oh come on!” geto groaned in annoyance, “i wanna feel her too, give me attention.” gojo laughed faintly at geto’s words, clearly enjoying his struggle. “i’m not even done with her yet, and you’re already getting impatient?” he looks you in the face, his eyes roaming over you. “and here i thought you were being such a good girl, not demanding anything.”

“what?” you throwing gojo offended look, “me? i'm just sitting still and looking pretty, i'm not doing anything.”

gojo hummed at your expression, enjoying the look on your face. “i know,” he responds, his hands caressing your thighs. “that’s why you’re being so good for me. you’re being all obedient and still. it’d be such a shame to change that now, huh?”

“uh-uhm,” you nod, this time hugging his neck as you look at geto who's begun to knit his eyebrows together. gojo chuckles again when you hug his neck, his hands moving up your sides, caressing you up and down. “so needy,” he teases faintly. “did you want to give geto some attention?”

still, with your arm wrapped around his neck and cheek resting against his cheek, you nod, “yes, please.” gojo smiles faintly, clearly enjoying having you this eager and submissive for him. he lifts his head from your neck and looks towards geto. “did you hear that, geto? the pretty girl wants to give you attention,” he says, his tone almost mocking.

geto stares at the two of you, his expression a mix of annoyance and arousal. “about time,” he grunts irritably. gojo smirks against your skin, his hand on your thigh giving you an encouraging squeeze. “you heard him, baby. go on. give him what he wants.”

with gojo’s hand guiding you, you shift forward and move off his lap. you settle onto geto’s now, your thighs straddling his hips. in this position, you’re seated up higher on his lap, your chest just slightly above his eyesight.

geto’s hands fly to your waist as you settle on his lap. his fingers press hard into your bare skin as he looks up at you with his sharp, cat-like eyes. “look at you,” he says, his voice deep with lust, looking at your naked body. “you just look so beautiful, sweetheart.”

gojo’s body moves behind you, his chest pressing against your back. you feel him move the shower-damp hair on your neck to the side and out of the way. he leans forward to hover over your shoulder, his lips mere inches away from your neck.

“you look so pretty sitting on his lap, baby,” gojo murmurs in your ear. “so perfect with that towel around you.” his large hand moves to your thigh, his fingers tracing the hem of the towel that still wraps around your waist. “but i think it would look much prettier… on the floor.”

while you’re distracted with geto, one of gojo’s hands sneaks from behind you to tug at the towel. the other hand moves your hair to the side so that it falls over one shoulder, exposing your back to him. the towel falls loose, and gojo starts planting kisses along the slope of your back.

both of geto’s hands press firmly into your hips as he guides your body down and closer to him. he lets out a pleased hum at the feel of your warm skin against his bare chest. “look at you,” he groans, eyes roaming over your form. “so perfect and so good.”

gojo’s lips travel down your spine, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your back. “oh, baby,” he praises as he kisses a spot just above your tailbone, “such a pretty girl. so well-behaved, as always.” his hands move to squeeze both of your thighs. once he’s done admiring the skin there, his hand moves to the small of your back and gently pushes you forward, so that your chest is pressed flush against geto’s.

geto lets out a low, guttural growl as he feels your bare breasts against his chest. “fuck,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips so tight you know there’s likely to be marks left behind. his head drops forward as he lets his lips trail along your collarbone.

“she has such a pretty body, doesn’t she?” gojo muses, observing your and geto’s bodies so closely pressed together. he starts to leave little kisses on the back of your shoulders, “so good and soft.”

geto can only respond with a low hum of agreement. one of his hands move to grasp at the hair on the back of your head as he buries his face in your neck, his lips sucking on your skin hungrily.

“so small and perfectly perched on your lap.”

geto hums his agreement, his fingers digging into your hips as he helps you shift even closer to him. “sweetheart,” he says, his voice strained. “you feel so good. you have no idea what you’re doing to me, baby.”

gojo chuckles as he continues to kiss your shoulder, “oh, i think she knows exactly what she’s doing to us,” ge can see one of your hands reach down to grab at the skin of geto’s thigh, your fingers digging into his flesh.

geto lets out another small growl as your hand grips his thigh. a shudder goes through his body. “ah, she definitely knows what she’s doing. such a naughty girl.”

“no,” you whisper between your moan when they call you a naughty girl. geto's nails rooted gently on your skin sending a tingling sensation on your stomach. gojo chuckles against your skin. “no? you’re not being a naughty girl?” he nimbly moves to your other shoulder to leave another trail of kisses there. “are you sure about that, princess?”

geto’s hands continue to dig into your hips, controlling your movements. between the skin-to-skin contact of your bodies and gojo’s teeth on your neck, you can feel the tension and heat in the room mounting, slowly but surely.

you shake your head softly before mumbling another “n-no,” and let out another soft, breathy moan.

“you keep saying ‘no’, but i think your body’s saying something different,” gojo points out, his lips moving from your shoulder to the sensitive skin beneath your ear. “you keep shifting in sugu’s lap, and making these little noises. that doesn’t sound very ‘no’ to me, princess.”

“i'm s-sorry,” you stutter.

“sorry?” gojo repeats, chuckling at the way you’re falling apart just from some teasing. “it’s okay, sweetheart.” geto, who has been uncharacteristically quiet during this entire exchange, finally lets out a sharp exhale of breath as one of your hands grip his thigh again. he nuzzles into your neck as his hands grip you even tighter. “are you really sorry, baby?” gojo asks, his voice just a growl in your ear. “or do you just like winding us up?”

“i'm really sorry,” you moan again, and geto’s hands digging into your hips harder as he guides you to grind slowly against his lap. gojo chuckles again, enjoying the way you’re falling to pieces on top of geto. “are you sure? you sound so needy, princess. i don’t think you’re really sorry.”

geto can feel your body starting to move in slow motions on his lap. the hands on your hips move to press you down, as his hips start to rise to meet your movements. “she’s so needy,” he says in a low voice, to which gojo hums in agreement.

you shake your head and throw your head back in the slightest when you feel your bare pussy grinding on geto's clothed bulge, “s-sorry, but feel so good,” you mutter between your moan.

gojo and geto look at each other at your strangled words. they’ve reduced you to a mess of moans and broken sentences, and it’s all a result of their hands and mouths on your body.

they look back at you, taking in the way your head is flung back, exposing your chest and neck to them. both of them are staring at you like you’re their prey. and their prey right now is at their mercy. the back of your head rests against gojo's shoulder as you grind slowly against geto.

gojo lets you rest your head back on his shoulder so he’s now free to watch the show. he feels your soft hair against his bare chest, and the view he’s getting over your shoulder is driving him crazy.

geto starts to make a noise that seems like it’s a mixture between a sigh and a growl as he feels you grind against him once more. his hands hold your hips even tighter, encouraging you to keep up the pace. “that’s it, baby. keep doing that,” he murmurs.

gojo watches as your body moves gracefully against geto. he looks down at your body, admiring the way your back is arched, the curve of your spine leading down to your hips, which are being gripped so tightly by geto’s large hands.

he bites back a soft groan at the sight of you looking so perfect on another man’s lap. “you’re being so good for us right now, you know that?”

gojo takes off his white shirt before sitting on geto's lap behind you until your back touches his chest, skin to skin as your body keeps grinding on geto. gojo lets his body touch yours, your back resting against his chest. he can feel the heat radiating from your body as you writhe on top of geto. he leans down to kiss and nuzzle into your shoulder as you continue your movements.

geto’s breath comes out in quick gasps as you keep grinding against him. he holds your hips so tight there’ll likely be marks left behind. “sweetheart,” he grunts, struggling to form words between the heat and pleasure, “you’re killing me.”

“oh god..” you whimper.

your hand moves to the back of gojo's neck, holding him as a support. gojo chuckles softly against your skin at your whimper. “feels good huh, princess?” he murmurs into your ear. feeling your hand move to the back of his neck, he lets you hold him for support. he nips at your earlobe and continues to plant kisses down your neck and shoulder.

geto’s fingers dig into your hips again as you keep grinding against him. his breath comes out in short, hard pants, the sound right in your ear. “keep going, baby,” he urges.

the room is full of nothing but heavy breaths and the soft sounds of skin against skin. gojo has started to move his lips from your shoulder to the back of your neck and down to your shoulder blades. his hips are doing the same grinding motion as yours, his body moving in perfect unison with you.

geto looks up at both of you, watching as you both move on his lap. his lips part with a gasp as one of his hands moves from your hip to the back of your head, pulling you down to his neck.

a shiver goes through your body from the way geto manhandles you to pull you down closer. “there you go, sweetheart,” he grunts as he noses your hair and then rests his chin on your shoulder. “god, you look so good right now.”

gojo lets out a hum of agreement, his lips still on your skin. his large hands travel from your shoulders down to your hips, resting right over geto’s hands. geto leans closer until his head is above your shoulder to kiss gojo— still, the three of you keep grinding at each other. the kiss between gojo and geto is messy and frenzied, and so right above you since you’ve been pulled down against geto’s body. gojo moans in response to the kiss as he deepens it, his tongue swiping against geto’s lips.

geto grips onto your hips even tighter, his fingers digging into your soft skin. he lets out groans as he kisses gojo, the sound muffled by gojo’s mouth.

the three of you are starting to move against each other in more frantic motions. there’s an increasing desperation in geto’s grip on your hips and the way gojo and geto are now kissing, more tongue and teeth than pure lips.

it’s hot and heavy, and the temperature of the room is rising with each passing second. gojo finally breaks away from the kiss, his breath harsh and strained. “fuck,” he mutters, his hands holding your hips as well as geto’s.

gojo’s head drops down to your shoulder, nuzzling his nose into your collarbone. it’s all getting too much. the sounds of heavy breaths and moans, skin pressing up against the skin, the friction all combining to heighten the pleasure, the heat, the pressure.

geto’s grip on you is so tight you’re pretty sure there will be marks on your skin. “sweetheart, i—” he gets cut off by one of your movements that has him groaning suddenly and loudly.

“what is it, baby?” gojo teases, his voice slightly muffled in the crook of your neck. a small chuckle rumbles in his chest as he continues planting kisses on your skin. “that wasn’t exactly an answer, sugu.” geto grunts as you continue moving on top of him, your body grinding against his. “i’m so close, sweetheart.” he mutters, his voice breaking in the middle. “m-me too baby— oh, fuck,” you nod, moaning mess on suguru's neck.

gojo lets out a pleased hum when you answer, his teeth nipping at your skin. “i knew it,” he says, sounding somehow smug and cocky, even at this moment. “you just look so perfect grinding against him; how could you not be close, princess.”

geto’s body tenses and shudders beneath you. “god, it’s not fair how perfect you are.” he groans between heavy breaths. “you’re going to make me lose it, and we just started.” you grind faster than before on his clothes cock. feeling the warm and twitching on his cock make you moan louder, “oh, god. .”

“lose what, baby?” gojo continues to taunt, his voice soft and yet full of a teasing edge to it. “your composure? your mind? your load? i’ve already lost all of those things.” geto growls and nips at your shoulder as gojo continues goading him. “what are you, twelve?” he asks, his voice a mix between annoyance and desire. as you reach your edge you arm wrap another geto's shoulder while the other back to the back of gojo's neck, gripping on his undercut.

“oh, god,” both gojo and geto murmur at your hand in gojo’s hair, gripping his undercut. geto can feel your body start to lose its rhythm, becoming less focused on movement, and more concerned with reaching your peak. “that’s it, baby,” he grunts, his fingers pressing into your hips so hard you think you’ll have marks in an hour. “keep moving like that, for me, please,” he pleads between his moan.

gojo’s hands on your hips tighten at his words. “that’s it,” he agrees, his mouth back on your skin. “o-oh, sugu,” you are crying, begging to reach your peak when your legs start shaking. “oh, baby, look at her shaking like that,” gojo comments lazily against your shoulder. “she must be right there, on the edge, just begging to go over.”

geto can’t respond, he’s simply holding onto you and letting out breathless “oh god, oh god, oh god” between his pants. he’s gripping onto your hips to push you even closer against him. “just a little more, sweetheart” he urges, “a little more for me. you’re almost there.”

gojo’s hand moves to your face, his fingers tilting your chin to the side so that your face is in his eye-line. “you’re so good, princess,” he coos, his voice a low and gentle murmur in your ear. “look at you. so perfect, falling apart just from riding his lap.”

geto’s forehead rests against the crook of your shoulder as he gasps, breathless. “please, baby, so close, just a little more.” your hip moves slower before abruptly moving faster, pulling a string of heavy grunt and moan from geto. with geto holding onto your hips so tight and gojo’s fingers pressing into your skin, you’re so close, so close and almost there. “that’s right, princess,” gojo murmurs, his voice the only soothing presence among everything that’s happening. “you’re being so good for us, so perfect”

geto’s forehead sinks further into your shoulder. “please, baby, i need it, just a little more. that’s it, that’s it.” gojo can see the look on your face, the desperation, the need, the pleasure that’s threatening to overwhelm you and tear you apart. he holds you so close, his teeth nipping at your shoulder. “almost there,” he encourages. “just a little more, beautiful girl. you can do it. i know you can.” geto’s words become more desperate, his breathing more broken and stilted. “baby, please, baby, please, i—”

gojo feels the moment you and geto reach your peak together. his hands run through your hair when he feels your body shudder and then go limp. he lets his teeth graze the side of your neck as you collapse against him. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he says, a smirk on his lips, “look at you. perfect.”

geto’s hands loosen their grip on your hips as he also takes in ragged breaths. the three of you are now sitting and panting on the bed in silence. “that was hot,” gojo finally says after a moment, and there’s a distinct hint of cockyness in his voice.

geto grunts in response as he lets the three of you fall back down on the bed from where you were still seated over top of him. “i can’t feel my legs,” he moans, his hands still gripping onto your hips.

“don’t be so whiny,” gojo scoffs, but he’s chuckling as he says it. his hands begin their gentle movements through your hair again. “we didn’t even do anything.” geto lets out another breathless scoff. “you didn’t do anything, idiot” he protests. “i did all the work.”

“you both did all the work, to be fair” gojo says, still sounding lazy. “i just sat back and enjoyed the show.”

“lazy ass,” geto chuckles. his hands are now gently massaging your hips where he knows there’ll now be marks from his fingers. “you just sat there and watched, while i had to do all the work.” gojo snorts and scoff, “yes, because a beautiful woman grinding against you is such hard work, i’m sure you suffered very much.”

geto lets out a huff of laughter. “just because i enjoyed working for it doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard work,” he retorts. “i’m the reason she was so turned on.”

“i’m the one who set her up for it in the first place,” gojo argues back, chuckling. “i’m the reason she was so eager to ride your lap.” geto lets out another scoff, a smirk on his face. “you’re forgetting who’s an idea this whole thing was in the first place,” he says— it was gojo's idea in the first place, by the way.

“oh, i’m not forgetting,” gojo responds, and there’s a hint of smugness in his voice now. “i’m just saying i’m the one who prepared her for you.” they keep bickering without realizing you silently took a pillow and hit them in the head, “shut the fuck up! i can't even catch my breath in silence, god!” you groan before resting your cheek on geto's shoulder.

gojo and geto stop their bickering immediately at the sound of your annoyed groan, and they both turn to look at you. they’re too shocked and confused to say anything at first.

gojo is the first to speak. “did you just hit us with a pillow?” he asks, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “damn right, want me to elbow your handsome face too?” you glare at him over your shoulder. gojo quickly holds his hands up in surrender. “no, please don’t!” he pleads, a mock-offended look on his face.

there’s a chuckle from geto, who’s looking down at your face as you glare up at gojo. he pats your hip gently, “you look a little pissed, darling.” his warm hand wraps over you and caresses your back lovingly. “i can't feel my legs and at the same time i think it's still shaking, does that make sense?” you ask, pouting as you still rest your cheek against his shoulder

both of them chuckle again at your pout. geto's hands rub up and down your hips, soothing the skin that his fingers were gripping so tightly. “you’re not used to us yet, sweetheart,” he says, still chuckling. “it’s going to take some time for you to get back on your feet after we’ve given you such a good time.”

you groan as you hide your face on geto's chest. “oh god, we're not even fucking yet,” you let out a heavy sigh. gojo lets out a laugh again, loving the mixture of exhaustion and annoyance in your voice. “damn, princess, look at you already begging for it,” he teases.

geto just chuckles and shakes his head, still massaging your hips. “you’re a mess right now, baby,” he smiles and pokes your cheek lightly. “shut up, i-i'm not begging,” you lightly smack gojo's bare chest before back to rest your cheek against geto's chest to look at gojo who's still sit on the black-haired man behind you.

gojo lets out a scoff of disbelief at the smack to his chest. “you’re not begging? because you sound awfully needy to me,” he teases, clearly knowing what annoys you and relishing in it. geto rolls his eyes at gojo, giving his arm a smack. “stop being a dick to her,” he says with a chuckle.

gojo lets out another laugh, enjoying that he’s getting a reaction from you. “i’m not being a dick, i’m just pointing out the truth!” he says, still sounding cocky and amused. geto grumbles under his breath and pats your hips again. “ignore him, baby,” he says. “he’s just being a douchebag because you’re paying attention to me.” gojo glares at geto after hearing the words rolling out from his mouth. you giggle and stick your tongue to gojo over your shoulder.

gojo lets out a snort of laughter when you give him the tongue. “cute,” he says, his smile wide. “you’re such a child sometimes, you know that?” geto just shakes his head, hiding a smile behind your head as he kisses it. “shut up,” you giggle again as gojo leans closer until his lips touch yours and kiss you.

gojo’s lips are gentle when they touch yours, a contrast to the cocky attitude he was just showing. he takes advantage of how you’re still leaning against geto's chest on his lap on the bed, and reaches over to hold the side of your face while he kisses you, keeping you steady. geto watches the two of you, one hand still rubbing your hips while the other holds your waist, steadying your position on top of him.

gojo deepens the kiss as his tongue slides over your bottom lip and swipes at it, pushing into your mouth and against your tongue. he’s still leaning over your back from behind, one hand keeping the side of your face steady as his other one moves to rest on your thigh.

geto can feel the way your legs are shifting involuntarily from the way gojo moves, and his grip on your waist tightens to keep you in place. gojo slowly deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping through your parted lips to play with yours lazily. “you’re so cute,” he mutters against your mouth between kisses, his voice barely above a whisper.

geto watches as you and gojo continue to kiss above him, his hands still resting on you. he just hums quietly, enjoying the sight. gojo continues to kiss you, his tongue dancing with yours at a slow pace. there’s no urgency to the way he kisses you, he seems content to lazily move his lips against yours and hold your face in his hand.

geto is watching the two of you intently, his hands still resting on your body as he takes in the sight of you both. he lets out a soft hum, but doesn’t say anything, just watching as gojo’s tongue moves against yours. his kiss moves down along your jaw and then down your neck, his lips trailing over your skin until he reaches the back of your shoulder. as his mouth touches the sensitive skin behind your ear, he presses another gentle kiss there before muttering in your ear.

“do you think you can take another round, baby?” his voice is a mix of teasing and affection.

as gojo whispers the question into your ear, you can feel geto’s arms gently loosen their grip on your hips. he can probably sense that the three of you are starting to transition to the second round.

his hands move so that they are now resting on the outside of your thighs. his palms are flat against your skin, but still holding you in place on his lap. he’s looking up at you, waiting for your response.

“p-please...” you beg, your hand moving slowly to gripping on gojo's hands, giving him another begging through physical. at your pitiful, “please”, both gojo and geto are unable to hold back a reaction. they can both tell you’re getting needy already.

when gojo hears you begging, he hums against your shoulder and bites down gently on the skin there, leaving a light mark. geto’s hands move gently up and down your thighs as he responds to your plea. “please what, baby?” he asks, his voice a mixture of tease and desire. “please, fuck me..” your words come out breathy.

when you gasp out the plea, there’s another soft chuckle from gojo, and he sucked another mark into the skin of your shoulder. meanwhile, geto lets out a low exhale of air at the explicit request. “god, i love your mouth when you say things like that,” he says, and the words are more of a growl than anything. his hands tighten their grip on your thighs.

gojo straightens so that his mouth is no longer at the back of your shoulder. he’s looking down at you now, a smirk on his face. “that’s not very polite, princess,” he teases. “you need to learn how to ask nicely”

meanwhile, geto’s hands rub up and down your thighs. he’s also watching your face, amused at the way you’re already begging. “but i said please..” you let out a soft whining. gojo chuckles at that response. “i know you said please, but you can do better than that,” he says, his hand still on your face. geto hums, and you can feel his fingers digging into your skin. “come on, baby, tell us what you want. say it like a good girl,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

you wrapped your finger around his wrist that is still on your face, “please baby, i wanna feel your dick inside me so bad . .” at the sound of your words, and the pleading tone in your voice, both gojo and geto react. gojo’s hand tightens slightly against your cheek. geto lets out a low, satisfied groan at your request. “you’re such a good girl for us,” he says, biting your shoulder gently

gojo lets out another low chuckle as you wrap your fingers around his wrist. “you’ve got a mouth on you, you know that?” he says teasingly, his smile still on his lips. he’s amused by the way you’re asking.

meanwhile, geto lets out another low exhale against your skin. “fuck, i love how desperate you’re sounding right now,” he mutters, his hands moving to grip your thighs again. gojo pulls your face slightly closer so that he’s looking you right in the eye. “you want it that badly, huh?” he asks, his voice a mix of amusement and a hint of condescension.

geto is still watching your face intently, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. he can feel the way your skin is quivering against his touch. “you’re such a needy little thing right now, aren’t you?” he mutters against your shoulder before leaving another mark on the skin. you nodded, your eyes practically begging as you lost between gojo's azure eyes. “please. . ”

gojo lets out another chuckle when he sees the pleading look in your eyes. “you’re so cute when you look at me like that,” he says. geto still has his eyes on your face, watching the expressions you’re making in your desperation. “look at you, being all needy and beautiful,” he says, the words a mixture of compliment and amused taunt. his grip on your thighs tightens even more.

gojo leans in a bit closer, the smirk still on his face. “you want it that badly, hm?” he asks again, his voice still teasing. geto can feel the way your skin is quivering and shaking in his grip, your body desperately craving more touch and more attention. “god, watching you like this is so hot,” he mutters, leaving another mark on the skin of your shoulder.

gojo’s hand moves from your face to your shoulder, holding you lightly while his lips press against your skin. his other hand is working to pull off his shorts.

when he kicks off his shorts, geto is now holding you by the waist with one hand, his other hand still gripping your thighs. he lets out another low, satisfied hum when he sees gojo now completely naked. “god, you’re so hot,” he mutters against the skin of your neck.

gojo lets out a light chuckle when he hears geto’s mutter. “i take it you’re liking the view,” he comments, his voice still amused. geto just nods, his lips still on your neck. “you look even better naked,” he says, his voice a low, hungry-sounding growl. he’s still holding you and biting your skin, his hand on your thigh gripping you tightly.

in the meantime, gojo has now moved his hands to your waist, replacing geto’s hands on your hips. his hands are firm and steady on your skin, holding you steadily in place on his lap.

“are you ready, baby?” he asks, shifting his body slightly so that you can feel him even more clearly against you. “yes, please..” you nod, your eyes glisten as you look at gojo. gojo lets out another low laugh when he hears your response. “god, you’re so gorgeous when you’re begging,” he says, his voice a mix of amusement and desire.

geto is still watching the two of you intently, his breath hitches when he hears you pleading. “you’re such a good girl for us,” he mutters against your skin before leaving another mark on your neck. gojo lets out a low chuckle at the feeling of your body quivering and shaking in anticipation. “you’re shaking so much, it’s adorable,“ he says, his voice a mix of amusement and desire.

geto, who’s still lying back on the bed, lets out a low hum when he feels how hard gojo is against you. “god, you’re so eager,” he mutters, his breath still coming out in low, satisfied pants. geto shifts his position slightly, adjusting his hold on you. his hand slips down from your hip to your ass, groping at your plump flesh before giving it a light squeeze. the other hand reaches up to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. “ready?” he echoes, his tone low and filled with anticipation.

you nodded, hands gripping tightly on geto's shoulder as you squirm on his lap. “oh— fuck!” a long groan pushing past your lips the moment gojo's cock slowly entering your pussy from behind, fucking you while you on sit top of geto's lap.

geto's eyes darken with lust as he watches gojo enter you from behind. he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “that's it, baby. take his cock like a good girl.” his hand in your hair tightens, tilting your head to the side to expose your neck further. suguru's tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your throat before his teeth graze over your pulse point.

“fuck, you're so sexy like this,” he groans, his own arousal evident in the growing bulge pressing against your pussy. geto starts to rock his hips in time with gojo's thrusts, grinding his clothed cock against your pussy once again.

geto continues to grind his hardening cock against your slick folds, the friction making him hiss through clenched teeth. his free hand slides down to cup your mound, fingers spreading your lips apart to gain better access. with each thrust from behind, geto rubs his thumb over your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerves. “f-fuck—” you stutter from the pleasure of geto's hand and gojo's dick.

“so wet,” he murmurs, his voice laced with pride and desire. “can't wait to taste you later,” geto leans in to capture your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, swallowing your moans as gojo picks up the pace, driving into you harder and faster.

“o-oh, god, 'toru. . ” you moan against geto's lips.

geto breaks away from the kiss only to trail kisses down your jawline and neck, leaving a burning path wherever his lips touch. his grip on your hair tightens even more, pulling your head back to expose your throat fully. geto's tongue traces over your collarbone before descending lower, towards the valley between your breasts.

“so good f’ me, s-so fucking good,” gojo whimpering, continues to pound into you relentlessly from behind. geto takes advantage of every movement to tease and torment your sensitive nipples. his thumb brushes over your clit again and again, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“oh fuck— toru. . .” tears are swelling up to the corner of your eyes as geto's grips your hair until you look up and meet with gojo's eyes. gojo's nails rooted on your skin as he keep thrust his cock inside your pussy.

geto's gaze flickers up to meet yours, his dark eyes blazing with raw need. he gives your hair a sharp tug, forcing you to arch your back and push your chest closer to his teasing mouth. “look at me, baby,” he commands softly but firmly, wanting nothing more than to see the pleasure etched onto your features.

as gojo's relentless pounding sends waves of ecstasy crashing through your body, suguru's hands become even more insistent, kneading and squeezing at your breasts mercilessly. he bites down gently on your nipple, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he feels how hard you've gotten for them both.

geto's heart pounds wildly against your cheek as he watches gojo take control, pushing you down onto his lap. he grips your hips tighter, guiding your movements to match gojo's rhythm perfectly. each thrust drives deeper, stretching you deliciously around his girthy length. “so fucking tight,” gojo groans, leaning forward to bite down on the curve of your shoulder. his hands roam over your back, tracing along your spine before sliding up to grasp at your hair. with deft fingers,

as gojo's teeth sink into your shoulder, a sharp cry escapes from your lips. geto's hands leave your breasts to slide down your sides, trailing fire across your skin. when he reaches your thighs, he grips them firmly, spreading them wider to give gojo better access. his thumbs press against your inner thighs, rubbing circles into your tender flesh as he watches gojo's cock disappear and reappear from within you. “fuck baby, you look so perfect taking him like that,” geto murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

geto's gaze fixates on where their bodies join, watching intently as gojo pistons in and out of you. a low growl rumbles in his throat as he observes the way your curves ripple with each powerful thrust. his hands glide back up to your breasts, kneading them roughly once again. geto leans in close, whispering dirty words into your ear about what they plan to do with you once they're done with this.

“ah— i-i'm close,” you whimper, eyes glisten with tears.

geto's eyes flash with excitement at your confession, his hands becoming even more demanding on your body. “come for us then, baby,” he urges, his voice dripping with seduction. “let us feel you fall apart,” gojo added. as if sensing your impending climax, gojo redoubles his efforts, slamming into you with renewed vigor. geto mirrors his actions, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers, coaxing out every last drop of pleasure from your trembling form.

geto can hardly contain himself as he watches you teeter on the edge of release. his fingers dig into your flesh, urging you closer to that blissful precipice. “do it,” he pleads, his voice ragged with desire. “give it all to us.” as if responding to his plea, gojo slams into you one final time, triggering your orgasm. your walls clench around him desperately, milking his throbbing member for everything it's worth.

geto watches, entranced, as your body convulses in pleasure beneath them. he can't help but be moved by the sight of you unraveling under their combined ministrations. “that's it,” he encourages, feeling a surge of pride swell within him. “show us how much you love being used like this.” as your climax begins to wane, geto leans in to claim another searing kiss, tasting the saltiness of your sweat on your lips.

gojo watches as you convulse beneath them, his hands still tight on your hips as he looks down at you. the sound of you unraveling is only adding to his own desire, and he lets out a low laugh of satisfaction. “god damn, you’re incredible,” he mutters, his voice rough.

geto, meanwhile, pulls you into another searing kiss, claiming your lips again. his tongue delves into your mouth, tasting the saltiness of your sweat. as geto’s tongue dominates your mouth, gojo watches the two of you intently, his hands still on your hips, holding you in place. his eyes move back and forth between you and geto, watching closely to catalogue every reaction and expression.

“god, you two look good together” he mutters, his voice rough. his grip tightens on your hips as he watches the two of you make out. gojo is still breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath after pulling out of you. he’s watching as you fall apart on geto’s arm, your eyes closed as you try to catch your own breath.

“you look so beautiful,” he mutters, his voice is still rough. his hand reaches out and brushes the hair off your face. meanwhile, geto is still sitting against the headboard, his arm still around you as you try to catch your breath. he’s watching you intently as you recover, and his hand gently rubs your back in soothing circles. “you did so good, baby” he mutters, his voice soft, “you’re so beautiful.”

gojo gets up from geto’s lap, and gently pulls you to lay you down on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. he moves so that he’s now lying next to you on the bed, his hand still resting lightly on your hip.

geto watches as you lie down on the bed and moves over so that he’s now lying next to you, too. he rests his hand on your stomach, his thumb rubbing gentle circles in your skin. as the three of you lay there together, there’s a moment of comfortable silence, with the only sound being the evenness of your breaths. gojo and geto are both still touching you, their hands gently rubbing your skin wherever they can reach.

“how are you feeling, baby?” gojo asks after a few moments, his voice soft and gentle.

you give him a weak smile, “perfect.”

“perfect,” gojo repeats, his voice satisfied as he echoes your word. he’s still resting next to you, his hand still gently making patterns on your skin. geto, who’s lying on your other side, also hums his agreement. “you look perfect,” he mutters, his fingers still rubbing your stomach. “you did so well,” he draw another mutter on your skin to kiss your forehead.

there’s another moment of comfortable silence, with the three of you just laying there together and enjoying the afterglow. gojo’s hand continues to gently rub your skin, and geto's hand is still moving in slow circles on your stomach. “can i ask you something, princess?” gojo says suddenly, his voice still soft and gentle.

you open your eyes and turn your head to look at gojo, “what is it?” you ask him, voice soft and dripping with tiredness.

gojo looks down at you as you turn your head to look at him, his eyes lingering on your face. he can see the exhaustion in your eyes and in your voice, which seems to be dripping with tiredness.

“i just wanted to ask…” he pauses for a moment, his hand still rubbing slow circles on your skin. “you enjoyed that, right?” he asks, his voice gentle and concerned. you look at him like he's the most stupid person in the world that makes you confused, “yeah?” you ask.

gojo notices the look on your face and laughs at your question. “okay, well, don’t give me that look,” he says jokingly. geto, who’s lying on your other side, also laughs, his hand still rubbing soothing circles on your stomach. “don't insult him, he’s just checking in, princess,” he says, his voice amused.

gojo chuckles again before continuing. “i know you enjoyed it, i just want to make sure” he says, his voice serious again. he pauses for another moment, still looking at you intently. “i just want to make sure you’re comfortable and happy,” he says, his voice earnest. gojo is still watching your face, waiting for your answer. “you’d tell us if you didn’t, right?” he asks, his voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“do you want me to tell you if i didn't?”

“yes.” both gojo and geto answer at the same time. geto glances over at gojo before turning his attention back to you, his hand still rubbing your stomach. “we want to know if you had a good time,” he says, his voice serious.

gojo nods in agreement. “yeah, if you didn’t enjoy something, we want you to tell us,” he says. “your comfort and happiness are important to us, princess,” he adds. you nod, taking their hand to plant a kiss on the back of their hand, “then i will.”

gojo and geto both watch as you take their hands and plant a kiss on the backs. they both smile at the gesture, clearly touched by the small act of affection.

“good,” gojo says, his voice satisfied. “that’s all we want, you to be honest and comfortable,” he adds, his hand gently squeezing yours. geto hums in agreement, his hand rubbing the back of yours. “we value your feelings more than anything, princess,” he mutters, his voice soft and sincere.

there’s a moment of comfortable silence again, as the three of you just lay there together, your hands still intertwined. gojo and geto are both watching you closely, their eyes taking in your every expression.

“you look tired,” gojo finally says, breaking the silence. he’s still holding your hand, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on your skin. you nod, “just a little,” you softly speak before pushing your body away from the bed to sit up. “i'm going to get a drink first,” you tell them. you took gojo's white shirt that he used before and put it on you.

gojo watches as you push yourself up from the bed and put on his shirt. his eyes trail over your body, admiring the way the fabric of his shirt hangs on your figure. he’s about to speak when geto reaches out and grabs your arm, keeping you in place.

“you don’t have to get up, i’ll get you a drink,” he says, his voice gentle and affectionate. “thank you,” you said politely as you smiled at him. “of course,” geto says, smiling back at you. he pats you gently on the head before getting up from the bed.

gojo watches as geto walks out of the bedroom, his eyes lingering on his naked back as he leaves the room. “damn, he’s hot,” he mutters, his voice low enough that only you can hear it. you look at him with your eyebrows knit together softly before rolling your eyes, “god, you're such a horn dog.”

gojo lets out a low laugh when he hears your comment. “hey, i can’t help it if i appreciate a nice body,” he says, his voice still low. he looks over at you, a smirk on his face. “you can’t deny he looks good,” he adds, his eyes trailing over your figure in his shirt.

gojo chuckles and pulls you towards him again, your bodies pressing against each other. “i mean, yeah he's hot but— ah fuck it, let's objectifying him,” you giggle as you wrap your arm around gojo's waist. when he hears you say you’d like to objectify him, his smirk widens. “yeah, let’s do it,” he says, his voice low.

he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you even closer, his hand gently rubbing small circles on your lower back. “his ass is pretty great,” he mutters, his eyes raking over your figure in his shirt.

you nodded, “his dick too.”

gojo laughs out loud at your comment, clearly having not expected it. “god damn, baby,” he mutters, his voice full of humor. “yeah, it’s very good,” he agrees, his eyes still roaming over your body in his shirt. “how’d you fit it all in your mouth?” he teases, using his free hand to gently brush your hair behind your ear. “have no idea,” you shake your head as you laugh.

gojo laughs again when he hears your reply, clearly enjoying the conversation. he moves his head so that it’s right next to your ear, and his voice is a low murmur when he speaks again. “you look so good in my shirt,” he mutters, his breath hot against your skin. “thank you,” you smile at him as you look up. your fingers run across his arm.

gojo smiles back at you, his hand still rubbing small circles on your lower back. he takes a moment to admire your expression, his eyes drinking in how your face looks when you’re smiling up at him.

“i like it when you wear my clothes,” he admits, his voice low, “it reminds me that you’re mine.” gojo looks deep into your eyes for a moment, taking in your expression and the soft smile on your lips. he then presses his lips against your forehead in a gentle kiss, his lips lingering against your skin.

“you’re adorable, you know that?” he mutters, still holding you close to him. just then, geto walks back into the room, holding a glass of water in his hand. When he sees you and gojo cuddled together on the bed, he raises an eyebrow. “did i miss something?” he asks jokingly, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“we're objectifying you,” you said, giggling.

geto lets out a chuckle when he hears you say you’re objectifying him. “oh, is that so?” he asks, his voice amused. he takes a few steps closer to the bed, a small smile on his face. “anything interesting being said?” he asks, looking over at gojo who’s still holding you against him.

geto walk over to the other side of the bed and hand you the water as he takes a seat beside you. gojo looks over at geto, a smirk on his face. “oh, just talking about how good you look,” he says casually, his hand still rubbing small circles on your lower back.

geto lets out a low laugh when he hears gojo’s comment, clearly somewhat amused by it. he watches as you take the glass of water from his hand, and takes a moment to admire your pretty face before pinching your cheek. “just my looks?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “not my skills?” he asks, his hand coming to rest on your thigh.

gojo smirks again when he hears his comment, his hand still idly rubbing small circles on your lower back. “oh, your skills are definitely being appreciated too,” he says. he looks over at geto, his eyes trailing over his body. “a very important part of you,” he adds, his voice low.

they both stop talking and watch as you take sips from the water, both of them clearly enjoying the sight. gojo's hand is still rubbing your lower back, his eyes never leaving you as you drink. meanwhile, geto's hand is still resting on your thigh; his eyes are looking at the way your throat moves as you swallow.

“what?” you look at them as you hesitate to pull the glass away from your face. gojo and geto both look at you when you look at them, both of them still admiring your pretty face. “just enjoying the view,” gojo says simply, his hand still rubbing circles on your back. “you look very pretty while drinking,” geto adds, his hand still resting on your thigh.

after finishing, you hand the half-empty glass to gojo and cast a questioning glance at geto. “what’s so pretty about drinking?” you ask, slightly puzzled. gojo takes the water glass from you and sets it down on the bedside table. both gojo and geto are still looking at you, their expressions amused by your question.

“just the way your neck moves when you swallow,” geto says simply.

gojo nods in agreement. “yeah, it’s pretty hot,” he adds, his eyes trailing over the smooth line of your throat. you just rolled your eyes at your two boyfriends horniness before placing a pillow behind you and pulling a blanket over your body as you lay down.

gojo and geto both chuckled at your eye roll, clearly amused by your reaction to their horniness. gojo watches as you place a pillow behind you and pull a blanket over your body, his eyes trailing over your form as you get comfortable. geto leans over and pats your head gently, a smile on his face. “comfy?” he asks, his voice soft.

you nod and smile at him before turning to gojo, who is still eyeing you with a hungry gaze. “go to sleep, dickhead. it’s almost three in the morning,” you say, giving him a nasty look.

gojo laughs at your comment, amused by your words. “but i’m not tired,” he says, his eyes still roaming over your body.

“yeah, i’m not tired either,” geto agrees, his hand still patting your head gently. “but, i am,” you mumble, pulling the blanket until it reaches your chin.

as soon as you mumble that you’re tired, both gojo and geto’s expressions soften. they both look at you for a moment, taking in your sleepy face and the way the blanket is pulled up to your chin. “okay princess,” gojo says, his voice gentle. “we’ll go to sleep,” he assures you, his hand still rubbing gentle circles on your lower back.

they both eventually join you, lying on their sides as you shift to face them as well. gojo pulls you closer, so your back is against his chest, while the two of you face geto. as soon as all three of you are lying down on the bed, gojo pulls you closer to him, your back pressed against his chest. he wraps his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your stomach.

geto watches as you and gojo get comfortable, a small smile on his face. he shifts so that he’s a little closer to you, his eyes roaming over your pretty face. despite all three of you being tired, you don’t close your eyes right away. instead, gojo and geto both continue to talk softly, their voices quiet and drowsy.

gojo’s hand is still resting on your stomach, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. meanwhile, geto’s eyes are still fixed on your face, a small smile on his lips as he watches you listen.

gojo and geto continue talking quietly, their voices low and drowsy as they converse. meanwhile, you pull your phone out from under the pillow and start using it. gojo glances down and sees that you’re using your phone, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “what are you doing, princess?” he asks, his voice soft.

“just scrolling,” you mumble, the light from your phone illuminating your face. they don’t say anything and continue their quiet conversation. both gojo and geto glance down at your phone, noticing how the light from it illuminates your face, making you look even prettier under the dim lighting of the room. “what are you scrolling through?” gojo asks, his voice sounding just a hint too interested.

“just some tiktok videos, baby,” you reply softly. they nod and allow you to continue, not really focusing on your phone as they keep chatting. gojo and geto both nod as you tell them that you’re just scrolling through some tiktok videos, their focus more on their conversation rather than what you’re doing on your phone.

“that’s cool,” gojo says, his voice absent-minded as his hand keeps rubbing small circles on your stomach.

after a few minutes, gojo notices that the sound from your phone keeps repeating as if a certain video is on a loop. he glances down at you and sees that your eyes are closed, your breathing slower and more steady.

when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep with your phone still on, a small smile forms on his face. he reaches out and gently takes your phone out of your grasp, setting it down on the bedside table. geto also notices that you’ve fallen asleep and looks down at you with a soft smile on his face.

he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle so as not to wake you up. “she’s asleep,” he murmurs to gojo, his voice barely above a whisper.

gojo nods in agreement, his eyes still fixed on your face. “yeah, she’s out cold,” he says, his voice just as quiet as geto’s. he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand gently stroking your stomach.

“we should go to sleep, too,” gojo whispers.

geto nods in agreement, his eyes still fixed on you sleeping. “yeah, we should,” he says, his voice soft. he shifts closer to you so that he’s a little nearer, his body warm and comfortable against yours.

geto gently presses a kiss to your forehead, murmuring, “sleep well, my love,” his voice tender and soft as he brushes his lips against your skin. he then turns to gojo, leaning in to give him a warm kiss as well. with a loving smile, he says, “good night, baby,” his tone is full of affection and care.

gojo smiles when he hears geto’s soft words, enjoying the gentle tone of his voice. “good night,” he murmurs, his voice low.

he reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. then he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, your back pressed against his chest.

[starkwlkr]

happy life, happy wife | hugh jackman

an: “you attract what you fear” GUYS IM SO SCARED OF A 55 YEAR OLD AUSTRALIAN 😭 definitely thinking about making marvel actress!reader x hugh an actual series… i have ideas

marvel actress!reader

Deadpool & Wolverine Press tour - Hot Ones

Hugh felt like he was going to die. Each wing was getting hotter and hotter, but immediately when he heard his wife’s name he forgot all about the spice.

“Hugh, your wife is part of the Avengers, how does it feel having your wife be part of such a huge franchise? Have you two talked about a potential team up with the X-men and the Avengers?” Sean asked.

“My wife . . . Oh god, I think I’m crying-”

“I can’t tell if you’re legitimately dying or completely in love with your wife.” Ryan told Hugh.

“Wait . . I am completely in love with my wife and I would legitimately die for her.” Hugh gasped as he rearranged Ryan’s words.

“Is that in the contract she made you sign when you married her? ‘I vow to die for you’. My contract said I had to give all my money to my kids and wife.” Ryan said.

“No, she’s amazing, um, if I start talking about her I think I might go on for hours,” he laughed. “Our kids do want to see their parents fighting the bad guys together. We would love to team up, maybe it could happen.” Hugh smiled.

“The entire movie would be them making out and her beating the shit out of you. I’d pay to see that.” Ryan added.

•••

Comic Con 2024

Like RDJ, your last Marvel movie had been Avengers: Endgame. After being in ten mcu films, it was time to say goodbye to your character.

But that was in 2019.

At this years comic con, you were back. The cast of Deadpool & Wolverine had taken the stage and showed their appreciation for the fans. After their panel, it was time to announce Marvel’s upcoming projects. Kevin Feige announced the Fantastic Four, Thunderbolts, Captain America 4, and finally the new Avengers movies, which everyone was extremely excited about.

After showing the title card for the upcoming Avengers film, Kevin turned to the audience.

“Something people have been asking, as of late, is who the heck is going to direct these two movies?” The audience clapped.

From the side of the stage, you were nervous. What if the fans didn’t like the idea of you directing the next two Avengers films? Your worrying caused Hugh to come to your rescue.

“Hey, they loved you as an Avenger, they will love you even more.” Hugh kissed your forehead. “If anyone says anything about this decision, they have me to deal with.”

You laughed at his words. “I really love you so much.”

“Love you too, bub.” Hugh was about to kiss you when Ryan cut in.

“I really love us too. I convinced half of the people here that we’re a throuple.” He said in the most serious tone ever.

Kevin announced you as the director. Your doubt of the fans not liking the announcement was proven wrong when you walked the stairs to the stage and stood next to Kevin. They cheered when they saw you were back.

As you said a few words, thanking Marvel, Kevin and the fans, you were being recorded by Hugh, who was being recorded by Ryan.

“That’s my wife!” Hugh cheered from backstage, holding his phone in his hand.

“She’s Marvel Jesus now, holy shit!”

•••

WIRED autocomplete interview

“Is Hugh Jackman married?”

“Yes, to me, Y/n, probably to half the population,” Ryan answered. “He’s Australia’s biggest slut.”

“All the times, I proposed.” Hugh laughed. “But yes, I am married and I love my wife very much. She’s stuck with me forever.” He lifted his hand to show off the wedding band.

“Funny, because she texted me right now. Her and Blake are in the courthouse getting married. So Deadpool three was actually made so our wives could divorce us and marry each other.”

[mostly-imagines]

Dear God Get Out

jason todd x reader

aka not a moment of privacy

warnings: mild sexual activities, more people than jason would ever want in your apartment during those times

The second Jason’s through the door his arms are out, seeking to pull you into him. You let him engulf you in his arms without thought, this being the first time you’ve seen him all day.

“Missed you,” He mumbles into your shoulder.

You hum and rake your fingers through his hair. “I know. Missed you too.”

He pulls back to look at you and holds your neck gingerly in his hands. “You’re good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nod and kiss his collarbone softly, wrapping your hands around his forearms. He gives your forehead a kiss and walks you backwards to the couch, leaning down over you until you have to sit.

He follows you down and kisses your lips and guides you backwards to lay. He drapes himself over you, inserting himself between your legs. He refocuses his attention to your neck, and sucks at a very particular spot below your jaw that you know he targeted on purpose.

“Okay, that’s not fair.” You breathe out, halfway to a sigh.

“No? How ‘bout this?”

He nips at you, startling you to a near moan. Your reaction only encourages him, as he holds your jaw and tilts your head to the side for more access.

He slips his hand under your shirt, grazing the skin underneath. He leaves open kisses all across your collarbone, trailing them down your stomach once he has your top off and strewn half away across the room.

You stop him, pulling him back up to you for a kiss. He furrows his brows at first, only understanding when you start to pry at his shirt too. He removes it for you, tossing it with startling accuracy right by yours.

He resumes kissing down your body, hands trailing down your sides along with him. He peppers kisses on your thighs and hooks his fingers into the seam of your underwear, readying to remove them.

It’s almost astonishing how silently he'd managed to open the window only to stumble and flail his way to the floor.

The sudden clatter scares the hell out of both you and Jason, who jumps to a stand immediately.

“Tim!”

“Evening. D’you guys still have any—oh.” Tim finally regains his coordination and stands up to see you sprawled out on the couch, bra and underwear your only cover.

His eyes go to the floor real quick and Jason lets out an exasperated sigh, looking around for something nearby to cover you up with.

“—you know, wait up means wait up!”

Oh good, Dick’s here too.

You sit up quickly and try to cover yourself with your arms, though there’s not much of a difference you can really make.

Dick ducks in from the fire escape and lands significantly more gracefully than his counterpart had.

It takes him no time at all to assess the room and see you, knees to chest on the couch, trying very hard to appear as though you’re not half naked. Takes him even less time to see Jason, standing in front of you, fuming.

“Oh. Oops…”

Jason chucks the tv remote at Dick and uses the distraction to pull you up from the couch, pushing you behind him. His massive frame is more than enough to cover what his brothers have no business seeing.

“Get the fuck—”

And just for good measure, Damian jumps down next and crouches in the window.

“Jesus Christ,” your boyfriend mutters, hands covering his face in exasperation.

Damian takes one glance at the room and grimaces—Tim’s eyes are glued to the floor, Dick’s acting as though there’s something very interesting on the ceiling, and Jason’s shirtless. He can’t quite see you behind Jason, though he doesn’t need to in order to guess what he’d just walked in on.

“Ugh, seriously Todd? That’s disgusting.”

You let your forehead hit Jason’s back, thoroughly embarrassed. He reaches back to caress your waist, and you know somewhere in that action there’s a reassurance that he’s going to get them out as soon as humanly possible.

“Yeah, seriously. This is our apartment, demon brat. Get out.”

“Maybe we should come back later…” Dick suggests, more awkward than in his usual character.

Jason glares up at the heavens. “Or never.”

“At least keep it in the bedroom, you animals.” Damian chastises.

Jason suddenly wishes he hadn’t thrown the remote so soon. “Our apartment.”

He looks back at you without moving the shield of his body, eyes apologetic. You meet gaze and turn your head to rest your cheek on him instead, your own hidden meaning of reassurance. It’s fine.

You can’t see them but you hear a shuffle and hope to god it’s not another vigilante.

You place a hand on Jason’s lower back and peer around his shoulder, seeing Tim turned back around towards the window and trying desperately to get Damian to move out of the way—Damian, seemingly having no regard for Tim’s urgency.

You’re not quite sure if it’s over discomfort or embarrassment in seeing you so undressed, or if it’s because his self-preservation kicked in when he saw the look on Jason’s face. Maybe both. Probably both.

Both.

“Will you stop?” Damian slaps his hand away. “We came here for a reason.” He looks past Tim at you, “Do you have—”

“No.” Jason cuts in, growing visibly more agitated.

Damian’s face contorts as he looks back up to Jason, “What is your—”

Now Dick cuts in, “Okay, that’s fine, we’ll just ask the old man.”

“Great.”

Dick pauses. “On the couch though, Jaybird?”

Jason takes a deep breath.

“Alright, ten seconds, then I get the gun taped under the table.”

That’s warning enough for Damian—he’s called that bluff once before and learned the hard way.

Tim doesn’t even take a second glance before hauling it out of your apartment, his cape getting caught on the window frame briefly before he scrambles away.

Dick calls out an apology to you before trailing out the window after him.

Jason lets out a heavy exhale and turns to you, hands gliding naturally to your waist.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t need to be.”

He gives a low hum and wraps his arms around you, pulling you down with him as he crashes down onto the sofa.

“Should I feel bad about almost railing you into the couch?”

“I wouldn’t waste any tears over it. Not like it would’ve been the first time we did it.”

He laughs and tugs you further into his chest. You curl into him and close your eyes, thinking.

“Jay?”

“Hm?”

“How did Tim survive as Robin?”

“I’ve been asking that question for years.”

reblog or 🚫