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#especially because he doesn’t say it often. that and ‘i love you’ are only used on special occasions
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Aaaa! You are like my favorite creepypasta blog! I love all the stuff you do so much! Would you be willing to go like a bit more into lyra and Toby's relationship or something like that? I find them super interesting, If you've already done that and I forgot sorry!
Hellloooo I’m glad you like my stuff so much! ^^ I’m gonna provide a link if you click right here to my Toby character analysis, which is where I went into his background and in that is the basis of his relationship with Lyra, but I don’t mind giving you some rambles about them as well :)
So as I say in the character analysis, in my canon Toby and Lyra both suffered incredibly at the hands of their father’s abuse. As Toby can’t feel pain, their father often used Lyra and abused her in front of him as it affected Toby the most. When not being abused, Toby and Lyra were always huddled up together in each other’s arms, and despite being the one physically harmed the most, Lyra was always comforting Toby, reassuring him that she was okay, and that he didn’t need to be so worried about her.
Lyra couldn’t stand the sight of Toby always being so distressed as a result of the abuse, and she always tried her best to cheer him up and make him feel better. Toby to this day still remembers the stories that Lyra would tell him to distract him, and he often repeats them to himself in his mind as a way to calm down and distract himself from anything bothering him.
I’ve always had this headcanon in the back of my mind that Lyra had a bracelet that she would wear all the time. After her and their father’s death, when Toby was packing up to run away one of the things he took with him was that bracelet. He’s worn it every day since, except when he’s on missions or training as he doesn’t want it to get damaged, and it’s his most prized possession.
I think he really got his affectionate nature from Lyra. As I said before they were often holding each other when their dad wasn’t around, and I think she would hold his hand a lot to remind him that she was there with him, and their mom would do the same, the three of them always in contact in some way as it was the only comfort they could provide each other when living through hell together. As Toby no longer has his sister to fill that void anymore, he gets pretty clingy with the people he’s close to in the mansion, since he still desperately wants all of that affection and they’re the only ones that can provide it to him. If he has a partner, that’s why he’s always clinging to you and wanting as much affection as he can gather from his s/o. If he doesn’t, like I said, he tries to get it from the creeps, and I think he most often clings to Slender/Tim/Brian/Jane/BEN. It’s not uncommon for him to be wandering around holding hands with one of them or clinging to them in a hug.
Toby also tells stories about Lyra a lot, sometimes the same ones over and over again, because he doesn’t want to forget anything about her. I think his mom also tells him stories a lot about Lyra, things he wouldn’t remember or know because he was her younger brother, and it always brings him joy. If he’s dating you, he especially likes to tell you stories about her, and he always says that he thinks Lyra would have loved you, which usually makes both of you cry together. If you ever ask him to talk about Lyra though, it makes him so incredibly excited.
I hope this quenches your Toby and Lyra lore thirst for the day because this went on way longer than I meant it to, but if you ever have specific questions always feel free to assskkkk
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thatsoanjie · 1 day
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Unspoken costs
Sebastian Sallow x reader
Summary : You start doubting Sebastian's intentions in your friendship.
Word count : 1 124
Notes : Requests are open! I just write these to get the ideas out of my head :)
Read my disclaimer and fair use notice here
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The thought crept up on you like a shadow, subtle at first, but growing in size and weight until it consumed nearly every quiet moment you had to yourself. It was one of those thoughts that made your stomach churn, your heart clench, and every instinct scream to push it away. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it lingered, gnawing at you, relentless.
It started with a simple, innocent observation—how often Sebastian would bring up Anne in your conversations. It was natural, you told yourself. Anne was his sister, his world, the person he loved most. Of course, he would talk about her, especially when you had been so deeply involved in their quest to cure her.
But then the doubts began to creep in. What if that was all you were to him? A means to an end? Someone who could help him save Anne, but nothing more?
You began to replay every interaction in your mind, searching for signs, for clues. Every time Sebastian had pulled you into his schemes, every time he had sought you out for help, every time he had looked at you with those intense, desperate eyes—it all seemed to revolve around one thing: Anne. And the more you thought about it, the more it started to hurt.
Were you just a tool to him? A convenient ally who could be discarded once Anne was cured? The idea sent a wave of nausea crashing over you. You cared about Sebastian—more than you had ever cared about anyone. But what if that care, that love, wasn’t mutual? What if you were just another piece in his puzzle, and nothing more?
After one particularly grueling day in the library, these thoughts became unbearable. You had spent hours researching yet another obscure text, and Sebastian had been restless, his frustration bubbling over.
“We’re missing something,” he muttered, his voice strained. “There has to be something more… something you can do.”
You paused, trying to calm the rising tide of doubt, but it felt too familiar, too raw. "Sebastian," you started, your voice shaking, "do you only want me around because I can help you save Anne?"
The question cut through the air, sharp and immediate. He stopped, narrowing his eyes at you, his posture stiffening.
"Are you serious right now?" His tone was incredulous, defensive. “After everything we’ve done, after everything I’ve asked of you, you’re really going to throw that at me? You think you're just some tool?"
Your breath caught in your throat, but you stood your ground. “It feels like that sometimes.”
He scoffed, pacing now, clearly agitated. “You know what, maybe you're just too afraid to see things through. Maybe it’s easier to think I’m using you than to admit you’re scared of what comes next. Coward.”
The word hit you like a blow, your heart hammering in your chest. “How can you say that? After everything we've been through?”
"Because it’s true!” he shot back, his eyes burning with frustration. "You’re brilliant, more capable than anyone I know. Hell, half of the things we’ve accomplished wouldn’t have happened without you. But here you are, too afraid to push yourself further, hiding behind this—this doubt. You think I haven’t noticed?"
The weight of his words settled on you, heavy and stifling. “I’m not hiding. I just need to know… What happens when Anne is cured? Where does that leave us?”
His expression softened, but only for a moment. “Why does it matter?” he asked bitterly. “This isn’t about us, this is about saving her.”
You felt the sting of his words but pressed on. “No, Sebastian. It is about us. I need to know if I’m just a means to an end.”
He stopped, his face hardening as he looked away, the tension thick between you. Then, almost too quietly, he said, “Maybe you want to be a means to an end. Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t want this responsibility.”
His accusation stung, but you didn’t back down. “That’s not fair. I’ve done everything I could.”
“I know!” He finally turned back to you, his voice breaking slightly. “I know you have. And that’s exactly why it frustrates me that you don’t see it. You’re extraordinary. Your talent could change everything, do things I can’t even begin to comprehend. But every time it matters—every time it could really make a difference—you hesitate. And I don’t get it.”
You felt the lump in your throat grow tighter, his words cutting deeper than you had expected. “I’m not like you, Sebastian,” you said quietly. “I can’t just throw myself into it without thinking about what it’ll cost.”
Sebastian was silent for a long moment, his face a mixture of anger and something else—something more complicated. "I don’t want to admit it, but you’re right. You don’t have to be like me, and you don’t owe me this.” His voice softened, but there was still a raw edge to it. “I can’t deny your talent is incredible. It’s—it’s the kind of magic that changes everything, that changes people. And maybe I’ve pushed you because I thought... because I needed you to see it, too. But I get it. I’m not asking you to follow me down the same path.”
You blinked, surprised by his shift in tone, by the way his defenses crumbled just enough for you to see the vulnerability underneath.
“I can’t ask that of you,” he continued, more measured now. “And I respect that. I just… I just wish things were different. That I didn’t need you so badly, and you didn’t feel like I was taking advantage of you.”
There was a painful silence as his words settled in. For the first time, it felt like he was admitting that he’d put too much on you, expected too much without understanding the weight of what he was asking.
“I don’t want to be a coward,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“I don’t think you are,” he said, his gaze finally softening as he looked at you. “I think you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. But I’ll respect your choice. Whatever you decide, I won’t push you.”
For the first time in a long while, you felt something loosen in your chest. His words weren’t perfect—there was still hurt, still unresolved tension—but it was enough. Enough for now.
“Thank you,” you murmured, the air between you still heavy but no longer unbearable.
Sebastian nodded, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze on you. “I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted quietly. “Not because of this. Not because of anything.”
***
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Requests are open. I've been trying to get a fic out every monday at 4pm ET. So far, so good! I do need to branch out from one character fics lol.
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nothingweirdhere · 7 months
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bro i’m 🥺😭💞💞💞
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filmstarved · 1 month
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i can fix him and fuck him.
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18+ [logan x female!reader]
nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.
word count: 5,737
logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).
logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.
you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.
deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.
“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.
“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.
“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)
but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.
although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.
tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.
your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 
“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“
“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”
those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.
“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.
“it’s too hard being here.”
with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”
he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.
you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.
but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.
he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).
you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.
“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”
he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.
“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.
“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”
“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.
his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.
“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”
“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 
his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 
“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.
“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.
he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 
he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”
he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 
your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.
a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.
that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.
there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.
“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.
he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.
logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.
as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.
“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 
he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.
logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.
kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck
he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 
he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.
“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.
his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.
“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.
you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.
“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.
like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 
logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.
your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.
he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.
“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.
“lo…logan, i’m-“
“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.
logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.
“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.
“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.
he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.
just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.
“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.
“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”
you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.
“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.
“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.
“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 
“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 
logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 
“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”
he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.
“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.
“lay down,” he said.
“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.
“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”
“are you—“
“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.
before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.
“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”
“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”
with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.
“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.
“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 
he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.
“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.
“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.
“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.
“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 
logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 
as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.
he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 
“you’re my good girl, huh?”
‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.
“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”
“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”
“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 
your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 
his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.
“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.
he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 
“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.
“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 
“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 
SNIKT!!
you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.
a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 
“…i love you, logan.”
“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.
you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 
ease and silence…and love.
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liliavanrougelover · 5 months
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How would they sleep with you?
Summary: How would the TWST boys sleep in the same bed as you?
Characters: All NRC students (-Ortho)
Warnings: None (?)
A/N: I'm suffering from TWST brain rot.
Riddle Rosehearts:
It depends on the day. Most days he’ll just fall asleep next to you, other days he’ll fall asleep in your arms. Sometimes he just wants to be held and what else is he supposed to do when you feel so warm? He can’t stop the way his eyes start to close or the way he starts to lose consciousness. He likes when he wakes up in your arms too. It makes him feel safe and secure. Maybe he should ask to be held more often.
Trey Clover:
Normally he’ll just fall asleep next to you. Really close though. Your shoulders will be touching but he won’t have an arm around you or anything. Of course, if you want him to hold you, he’s willing to. And if you want to hold him, he doesn’t mind. Just ask and he’ll do it.
Cater Diamond:
He’s a cuddly sleeper. Most days he wants you to hold him while he sleeps. Something about being in your arms just makes him feel safe. He especially loves that he’s surrounded by you. Sometimes he does like to hold you, especially when your head is resting on his chest. Not only does it feel nice to have you against his chest, but it’s nice to feel trusted by you.
Ace Trappola:
He wants you to sleep on him. Your head on his chest and the rest of your body between his legs. He’ll have his arms wrapped around your back and when he’s having trouble sleeping he’ll trace shapes into your back. And right before he goes to sleep, he’ll plant a little kiss on the top of your head.
Deuce Spade:
However you want. You want to be held, he’s holding you. You want to hold him, he’s snuggling into your arms. You just want to sleep next to him, he’ll face you so that you’re the last thing he sees before going to sleep. He really doesn’t care. However, his favorite is when he gets to hold you. It feels nice to fall asleep with you in his arms. He always asks if he can hold you, and if you say no, he’s fine with that. He’s not going to overstep your boundaries.
Leona Kingscholar:
He holds you or sleeps on top of you. His main goal is to keep you in bed with him and both of those are very effective. His favorite out of those two is sleeping on you. He gets to keep you there and sleep on his favorite pillow, it’s a win-win. Lets just hope the professors are willing to overlook your tardiness.
Ruggie Bucchi:
In your arms. He loves the feeling of being held. And I mean LOVES. He’s not used to being held. It's a nice sensation. He feels safe and loved and he couldn’t ask for a better feeling. Occasionally, he does like holding you, but that’s usually just when you’re feeling down.
Jack Howl:
He prefers to just sleep next to you. He does want to be touching you but he’s not a cuddler. He’ll hold your hand or have his arm wrapped around yours but he doesn’t cuddle. When he does cuddle, he wants to hold you. Holding you makes him feel better. But if you want to hold him and pet his ears, he won’t complain.
Azul Ashengrotto:
He’s a cuddly sleeper but he doesn’t want to admit it. When he goes to sleep he’s laying next to you, but when he wakes up he’s holding you super tightly. It’s like he’s scared to let go of you. No matter how many times it happens, he refuses to admit that he’s a cuddler (at least to other people).
Jade Leech:
Prefers to just sleep next to you. If you want to cuddle, then go ahead and hold him, but he won’t hold you back. He’d actually be amused if you hold onto him. Your arms wrap around him and he has to keep himself from chuckling. He didn’t think he’d like being held, but there’s just something about being in your arms. Maybe he’ll sleep in a little, just to stay in this moment.
Floyd Leech:
Do I even need to say it? Floyd’s a cuddler. He squeezes you. He doesn’t let up once. You can tell when he starts to fall asleep because his grip on you slightly loosens. When he wakes up and notices you’re in his arms, he’ll squeeze you until you wake up.
Kalim Al-Asim:
Cuddly sleeper. He’s holding onto you like his life depends on it. He mainly likes when you hold him. He loves to just lay his head on your chest and fall asleep in your arms. If he wakes up and he’s no longer in your arms, he’ll wrap his arms around you instead. He needs to be cuddling with you in one way or another.
Jamil Viper:
He’s a big cuddler. He loves when you hold him. And if you run your hands through his hair? He is melting. He’s so stressed all the time and he has to do so much work all day. Getting to fall asleep in your arms is the highlight of his day. It’s like all his worries fade away the moment he’s in your arms. If you find that he’s sleeping in today, just let him. He needs it.
Vil Schoenheit:
Cuddling improves sleep, so Vil is a cuddler. He wouldn’t be spread out all over you, but he would hold you in his arms. His favorite cuddling position is spooning. He likes to hold you against him. His sleep has always been good, but has improved since getting with you. Good job, you single-handedly helped THE Vil Schoenheit get better sleep.
Rook Hunt:
He doesn’t care. As long as he can sleep in the same room as you, he doesn’t care. He will sleep however you want. You’re beautiful no matter how you want to sleep. What sleeping position does he prefer? Whichever one you prefer.
Epel Felmier:
He likes to cuddle, but he never admits it. He thinks cuddling is a girly thing. He wants to hold you in his arms. He does move a lot in his sleep and has kicked you a few times. And fell off the bed. When somebody asks if you guys cuddle, he’ll deny and just say that he holds you. It sounds manlier to him.
Idia Shroud:
He likes to cuddle, but he doesn’t like to say it. He’s too embarrassed to bring it up. He will NOT initiate under any circumstances. You have to initiate. You have to ask for cuddles. Otherwise, he’ll just lay beside you. He’ll sleep on his back and just stare at the ceiling. He’s too tense to sleep when you’re next to him.
Malleus Draconia:
He likes to cuddle. You’re not afraid of him and he likes to have that reinforced by cuddling with you. Especially if you let him hold you. You feel safe in his arms, not afraid. He’s so happy. He’ll be smiling in his sleep just because he’s holding you. He does enjoy being held too, but mainly prefers to hold you.
Lilia Vanrouge:
To no one’s surprise, Lilia is a cuddler. He’ll just force himself into your arms. He’s nuzzling into you with a little smile on his face. He would also do this when you’re asleep. He’ll wait until he’s certain you’re asleep and crawl into your arms so you’ll be pleasantly surprised when you wake up.
Silver Vanrouge:
He likes holding you. He falls asleep before he can fully put his arms around you, but he loves holding you. If he wakes up to find that you crawled into his arms, he’ll be super happy. (You might not be able to tell, but it’s true). He has occasionally fallen asleep in your lap. It might not be his favorite position to fall asleep in, but it’s his favorite to wake up in.
Sebek Zigvolt:
Next to you. He can’t hold you or be held by you, because then he might be slower to react if something broke in. He can’t go through the extra effort to release his hold on you or climb out of your arms. The most he’ll do is hold your hand. It’s either holding hands or nothing.
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pedrospatch · 1 month
Text
run
Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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*moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only. no mention of reader’s race or skin tone.
summary: When you’re given the chance to run from your captor, you don’t take it.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. MENTIONS PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). reader is described washing her hair (the exact length is not specified) and she wears a dress. she is also shorter than Joel. violence, kidnapping, reader has major stockholm syndrome, Joel is fairly soft for her but HE IS STILL NOT A GOOD MAN, brief mention of Tess and Joel being involved with each other, Tess seems like the villain but she might actually be the only one of these three who is not totally fucked up in the head. SMUT. daddy kink. size difference (no description of reader’s body type, Joel is just a big guy with a big dick, enjoy it). oral sex (female receiving), super risky unprotected p in v sex (mention of reader ovulating, Joel pulls out, don’t be be like these two, practice safe sex), creampie (yeah he doesn’t give a fuck the second time around). many, many pet names (baby, baby girl, honey, angel, sweetheart, little girl). um i think that’s it. oh, and they fuck in the dirt.
PLEASE HEED ALL WARNINGS.
word count: 8.6k
a/n: one thing about me is i WILL soften up EVERY version of Joel Miller to my little heart’s content. HUGE HUGE thank you to @endlessthxxghts and @joelsdagger for lending me their eyes and beta-ing this fic for me last night. <33 i love and appreciate you guys SO MUCH. i loved seeing you both in the doc at the same exact time lmao. this can be read as a standalone, but it is considered part of the captive universe.
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Everyone in the group has a job. Except for you.
Or at least, that’s what you hear them say.
That bitch doesn’t do shit.
She never has to lift a fucking finger.
She should work for her meal—just like the rest of us.
Bitterness laces their tones when they talk about you.
Insults grow a little bolder when he’s not around.
Useless.
Freeloader.
Leech.
You might not be out there with a rifle in hand hunting game or invading camps and spilling blood for supplies—but you do in fact have a job, and that job is to make Joel Miller happy. It is your responsibility, your duty, to please him, and to keep him satisfied. Because keeping him satisfied keeps him in a good mood, and one thing you’ve come to learn about your captor is, where there is a good mood, often there is mercy.
Hell, you’re doing them a favor by keeping their violent, fearsome leader in a good mood. Because you’ve seen what he does to them when he’s not. He can be just as brutal towards his own people as he is to strangers.
It doesn’t make a difference, though. They still see you as nothing more than his coddled little whore.
“Fuck, that’s it.”
He groans, his thick, callused fingers digging harshly into the softness of your flesh as he holds you firmly in place underneath him. “Oh fuck, baby girl,” Joel curses through gritted teeth, his hands gripping your hips as he uses his own weight against you, pressing you down into the old mattress until you feel every uncomfortable lump, each creaking spring.
While he isn’t fucking you as roughly as he has on other occasions, he’s hardly being gentle. It’s hard, fast.
Loud.
Joel couldn’t care less about the rest of the group, the men and women on the other side of the wall, forced to listen to the sounds coming from the single bedroom of the cabin he decided they would hunker down in for the remainder of the summer season. Strings of curses and brutish grunts that came rumbling from deep within his chest, pleading gasps and whimpers that fell from your swollen, bitten lips. If anything, knowing they were listening only spurred him on—it didn’t hurt to remind them, especially the men with wandering eyes, that you were his special girl.
His good girl.
You certainly did your job, and you did it so, so well.
“Christ, sweetheart. M’so fuckin’ close—” Joel picks up speed, his hips snapping even harder, faster, the front of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. Each thrust causes the bed’s rusted, iron headboard to slam violently against the wood panel wall.
You clutch fistfuls of the single, stale, yellowing sheet beneath you, each stroke he delivers knocking the wind out of your lungs, making it harder to breathe. He is so heavy on top of you, this big, broad, bulk of a man who makes you feel swallowed, smothered, and small. Joel takes up so much room inside of you, and it’s a wonder how you could possibly have any space left to spare.
It’s a fullness you can’t seem to get enough of.
It’s a craving, a need.
Worst of all, it’s slowly becoming a want.
“Daddy,” you choke out, fisting the sheet tighter, your skin stretching taut over your knuckles. Can the others also hear the squelch of your drenched cunt around his cock as it begs him for more?
“Fuck. You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby,” Joel croons his praise. His hands abandon your hips and he hunches over you, his thrusts momentarily ceasing. He crushes his chest against your sweaty, quivering back and leans forward even further, bracing his large hands on either side of you. Then, his lips move to the shell of your ear and he speaks, his breath blazing hot on your skin. “Y’take me so well, honey. Y’take Daddy’s cock so fuckin’ well. This pretty little pussy was fuckin’ made for me. She was made jus’ for me—ain’t that right, angel?”
He’s right.
Oh, how you fucking hated that he was right.
It was made for him. Your cunt. Your body. You.
Every part of you was made for him, and only for him.
All you can do is nod dumbly in agreement.
“Say it,” Joel whispers his firm command. “Wanna hear you say it. Be a good girl and use your words. Say it, say this pussy is made for me.”
“Yes, Daddy,” you moan obediently, prompting him to grin against your ear. “My pussy is made for you, just—just for you. No one—no one else. Only you.” Could this really be the same voice that would break, grow hoarse from screaming for him to stop? The same voice that would beg and plead for him to set you free?
Jutting his hips forward, Joel buries himself to the hilt, eliciting a noise from you, something caught between a pained whimper and a contented sigh. His balls, heavy and full for you, rest on your clit, which is still sensitive to the touch after he’d spent a majority of the morning with his head buried in between your legs. Desiring yet another release, you try wriggling around beneath him in a silent plea for more. More, more, more.
Please, Daddy. More.
Joel’s grin widens. He places one of his hands on your soft lower belly, fingers dragging down the slope of it until he finds the slick swell of your seam between your legs where his girth splits you open. “Ready, baby?”
Nodding, you open your mouth to answer him, but the sound of your own groan cuts you off when his fingers firmly circle around your throbbing, swollen bud. “Oh,” you breathe, instantly sinking right into his touch. Your eyes screw shut tightly in pleasure, and you throw your head back onto his shoulder. The scruff of his beard is rough on your cheek, and it burns, the same way it had burned the tender flesh of your inner thighs.
His hips find their rhythm as you rub against his hand—you’re almost there. He knows this, you can tell by the chuckle that thunders in his chest and against your back. But you’re too busy chasing your pleasure to be embarrassed.
He’s made you a needy, greedy girl.
“Daddy,” you mewl, trying your hardest to move under him, to work your cunt up and down on his cock. “I’m gonna come—” You gasp, back arching as Joel strokes in and out, his fingers rubbing your clit with urgency.
Joel plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. “Give it to me, baby,” he grunts. “C’mon. Lemme feel her squeeze me.”
Feeling how close he is too, you try to hold on for just a little bit longer, at least long enough to finish with him, but Joel’s relentless, and you’re forced off of the ledge you’re both standing on first.
Crying out, your walls spasm around him, asking to be filled until he’s made a complete mess out of you, until white leaks, and it slowly dribbles down the insides of your trembling thighs.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel rasps. He lifts himself off you and he pulls out, taking his throbbing cock in his hand. His chest heaves as he fists himself, the wet sound of your slick in his palm filling the room. “Down,” he grits, and you obey him, lowering down yourself on the mattress until you’re lying almost completely flat before him. He gives himself one final stroke just as you look over your shoulder at him, the gentle flutter of your eyelashes the last push he needs. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck—” Joel spills his load, shooting thick ropes of warm cum along the soft curve of your spine.
You rest your cheek on your folded arms, biting back a small sigh.
He’s left behind an ache—you feel painfully empty.
But it was Tess, who had been given the task of helping you track your menstrual cycle, that had given him the warning earlier that morning. “She’s ovulating. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Joel. Last thing we need is for her to—”
“Relax,” he’d gruffed in response. “I fuckin’ know.”
Spent, Joel hunches over you once more and he lightly kisses the top of your head before burying his nose into your hair. “Good girl,” he murmurs. Affection that once was unwelcome and unwanted, that once made you feel sick to your fucking stomach, now makes you feel something else entirely. You’re not quite sure what it is, only that it’s warm. Comforting. “Y’did so well for me, sweetheart. Always do.”
Your lips curl into a faint, tired smile he doesn’t see.
A while later, you find yourself perched on the bed with the sheet wrapped around you, quietly watching as he gets dressed. “Daddy?” you say tentatively as he drops into a nearby chair to pull on his boots.
“What is it, baby girl?”
“Do you—do you think we can go to the creek today?”
Joel finishes lacing his boots and looks up at you.
“I’d really like to wash up,” you admit, softly. That, and you would like to see the light of day. He’d boarded up the windows with slabs of wood—sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get some decent light seeping through the teeny gaps.
“Not today, honey. I’ve got some things to take care of. Supplies are low, we gotta do a run. Don’t have the time to take you.” He stands and picks up his rifle, slinging the strap of it over his shoulder. Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel’s eyes soften. He walks over and gingerly cups the side of your face in his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek. “Promise I’ll take you to the creek tomorrow, sweetheart. First thing. Alright?”
Nodding, your eyes fall to your hands in your lap.
“Okay.”
Joel kisses your forehead, then leaves the room.
He makes sure to lock the door from the outside, and you can’t help but wonder if he knows locking you in is no longer necessary.
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“I can take her.”
Joel’s dark eyes remain focused on the state map laid out on the table in front of him. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Tess?” He sees her in his periphery, but is too busy figuring out the group’s best route to look her way.
“I heard her asking you to take her to the creek so she can bathe,” she tells him. “I can take her.”
Finally, his head snaps up and he turns to her. “What?”
Tess leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. “You and Tommy can take the group, go and take care of what you have to take care of. I’ll stay behind and take her down to the creek,” she suggests casually, as if she’s not asking him to trust her with his most prized possession—the only damn thing on what was left of this fucking earth Joel Miller actually gives a shit about. “Once she’s washed up, I’ll bring her back to the cabin and put her back into the room. Easy.”
Joel stares at her, bewildered. “What makes you think I’d fuckin’ allow somethin’ like that?”
“Oh, come on.” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Anytime I bitch about having to do something for that girl, you’re on my fucking case about it, and now that I’m offering to do something for her, you don’t wanna let me?”
He shakes his head and lowers his voice. “You’re talkin’ about takin’ her outside, Tess. Without me.”
“The creek’s just a mile away,” Tess reminds him. “I’m pretty sure I can handle getting her there and back with no trouble, Joel.” When he says nothing, she cocks her head to the side and scoffs. “What? You don’t trust me enough to take her under my wing for a couple hours?”
Joel’s lips pull into a tight line. 
Of course he does. Tess was his right hand woman, his second in command.
He trusted her more than his own fucking brother. She had never given him any reason not to, had never given him a reason to doubt her loyalty to him. No, his lack of trust has nothing to do with Tess—but everything to do with you. He doesn’t trust you. He will never trust you.
“What if she tries to—?” He can’t even say it.
“Tries to what?” She pauses. “Run?”
His throat goes dry and he gives her a subtle nod.
Joel Miller was a bad man who did bad things, but you were his good. You’ve brought back some meaning into this wretched life of his, gave him something that felt a lot like a sense of purpose. You were something for him to take care of, to keep safe and protect.
Tess raises an eyebrow at him. “You think I’d even give her the chance? Besides, the girl’s not that stupid, Joel. She knows better than to try anything. She knows she wouldn’t get very fucking far.”
“Tess—”
“I’m just trying to do something nice for her. Besides, I think it might do her some good to be in the company of someone else for once—the company of a woman.”
Joel peers at her, taking a minute to think it over in his mind before asking, “You’ll have her back in the room before I get back to the cabin?”
“Long before then,” she swears. “All in one piece.”
He hesitates. He’s still not sure.
It’s then that he remembers that disappointed look on your sweet, pretty little face. “Alright,” he relents with a deep sigh. “I trust you, Tess.”
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It always feels a bit strange to be outside.
But being outside without Joel?
It feels even stranger.
When he’d walked back into the room and told you Tess was willing to take you to the creek, the news had taken you by complete surprise. When he said he was willing to let her take you, that you almost couldn’t believe. It hadn’t even sunk in until the three of you stood outside the cabin and he was kissing your forehead sweetly in a temporary goodbye before turning to Tess.
“Never take your eyes off her,” he’d instructed her.
“She’ll behave.” She had smiled at you as she pulled her pistol from the waistband of her jeans, the gleam of the silver barrel catching your eye. “Isn’t that right?”
Swallowing dryly, you had answered with a strained, “Of course.”
She’s the last fucking person you wanted to cross. She was almost as terrifying as Joel, if not more.
“Tess? W-Where are we going?” you ask as you trudge along behind her, hoping you don’t sound as winded as you feel. Although you had no way to keep track of the time, it felt like you’d been trekking for at least an hour. Your feet are starting to hurt in your shoes—old, worn, yellow canvas sneakers that certainly weren’t made for hiking. “I don’t remember the creek being this far from the cabin.”
Tess snorts. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”
“It’s just—we’ve been walking for a really long time.”
She glances over her shoulder at you. “Here I thought you would be a little fucking grateful to be out getting some fresh air,” she chuckles, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the path ahead.
“I am,” you squeak, stumbling over a fallen branch.
Silence falls over the both of you.
“We’re not going to the creek,” Tess finally speaks after a minute. “I’m taking you somewhere else. Somewhere even better. Just trust me, kid. Now hurry up.”
It takes another hour before you reach your destination, and you hear it before you can even see it, a humming sound that turns into buzzing the closer you get. Then, you feel it, a vibration in the rocks beneath your feet. “Is that a—?” Stepping around her, your mouth falls open in absolute awe at the sight before you.
The waterfall is nestled right in between the trees and surges over the rocky mountain, throwing up bubbles of spray as it plunges into the lake at the bottom, and from there, it foams into a thick, white lather at the base. On the bank, where you stand, you spot different types of vegetation you couldn’t identify even if you tried—all you know is that it’s green, and it’s beautiful.
“This is incredible,” you gasp.
“Way better than some little creek, huh?” Tess tucks her pistol into the waistband of her jeans and shrugs off her pack. She digs around in the front pocket and pulls out something wrapped in a piece of crumpled brown tissue paper. She hands it to you. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“Well, if you’d fucking open it, you would know,” Tess rolls her eyes. “It’s my last piece of soap. It’s all yours.”
Her kind generosity comes as a surprise—usually, Tess wanted nothing to do with you. But you don’t question it, and you certainly don’t turn the rare luxury down.
“Thanks,” you say, shooting her a grateful look.
Tess nods towards the body of water. “Alright, then. Go on and get to it.”
You take the piece of soap out the tissue. The scent of lavender is faint, but still very much there. Joel will like the smell of it on your skin tonight, you think.
As you start to pull the strap of your cotton blue dress down your shoulder, you feel her gaze fixed intently on you. Heat rushes to your cheeks. “Uh, aren’t you going to turn around?”
“For fuck’s sake,” she scoffs. “I’ve got what you’ve got. Now hurry up, we don’t have all fucking day.”
Nodding, you peel off your dress and underwear, your face on fire as the older woman’s eyes slowly drag over your naked body. Carefully, you step off the bank and wade into the water. It’s so clear that you can count the pebbles underneath your feet.
Leaning against a nearby tree, Tess calls out, “You have ten minutes! And stay out of the waterfall! Last thing I need is for you to fucking drown.”
As she lights a cigarette, you can’t help but stare at her. Her features, though worn down after the hell she had been through trying to survive the post outbreak world, are beautiful. Big, dark green eyes, a perfect nose, and full, pouty lips. There’s never been a doubt in your mind that she and Joel have been involved with one another, and lately, the mere thought of anything between them made you uncomfortable.
It’s an odd sensation deep in your gut—jealousy?
But what were you jealous of? Her having had him first?
It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Insecurities you have never in your life felt before seep into your bones.
“Anyone ever tell you it’s fucking rude to stare?” Tess quips, raising an eyebrow at you. She shoves her lighter into the back pocket of her jeans.
Nervously, you sink lower into the water, nibbling the inside of your cheek. “Tess? Can I ask you something?”
“What could you possibly fucking want to ask me?”
You hesitate.
“How—how long have you known each other?”
“Who?” Tess plucks the cigarette from between her lips and flicks the ashes. “Me and Joel?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
She shrugs. “Don’t know. Six, seven years?”
“How did you two meet?”
“Long story that’s none of your fucking business.”
You ask your next question before you lose your nerve. “Have you two ever—?” Unsure of how to phrase it, you stop and clamp your mouth shut in instant regret.
“Have we ever what?” Tess studies your face, and she quickly realizes what you’re trying to ask her. “You’re seriously asking me if me and Joel have ever fucked?”
Biting your bottom lip, you glance down into the water at your feet. You honestly don’t expect her to answer, so when she does, you look back up at her in surprise.
“Yeah.” She takes a long drag from her cigarette, then adds, “Few times.”
Something unpleasant claws at your insides. “You two were together? Like a couple?”
“Something like that,” Tess mutters, flicking her ashes once more.
“What happened?”
She looks at you, pausing before answering, “You.”
Oh.
Before you can utter another word, Tess snaps, “Quit asking so many goddamn fucking questions and finish up washing. You’ve got eight minutes left.”
Not wanting to push your luck further than you already have, you do as she tells you in complete silence.
You lather up the soap in your hands, washing your hair first, and then your face and body, using your hands to scrub yourself as best as you can. Between the calming scent of the soap, the soothing sound of the waterfall, and the warm afternoon sun, you find yourself relaxing. You try to clear your mind, live in this peaceful moment which you very well may never get again, but your mind begins to wander.
And it wanders straight to Joel.
Closing your eyes, you can’t help but picture him here, standing behind you in the lake. You can almost feel his hands on you, long, thick fingers lathered with lavender soap, sliding down your body. His lips at your neck, he cups your breasts in his hands, rolling his thumbs over your hardened nipples until your head lulls, falling back onto his shoulder. Joel drags his hands further down, over your stomach, going lower and lower towards the place where you need them the most. “Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your neck, dipping one of them between your legs until you are, quite literally, in the palm of his hand. “This where y’need me?”
Breathless, you respond, “It’s where I want you.”
Suddenly, your eyes snap open.
There is a wetness between your thighs, one that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re standing waist-deep in the middle of a lake. You shake those thoughts away and finish washing yourself.
“Time’s up,” Tess calls. She meets you on the bank with a dry rag. “Here.”
The rag doesn’t exactly cover much surface area, but you dry yourself off as best you can before tugging on your underwear and slipping on your dress. Just as you crouch down to slip your shoes on, she tosses her pack and it lands in front of you with a soft thud.
Confused, you glance up at her.
“There’s about a week’s worth of jerky in there. Longer, if you know how to ration,” Tess explains, calmly. “And a canteen for water. I also packed you a flashlight and a pocket knife. It’s not much, but—”
Frowning, you rise to your feet. “What are you talking about, Tess? What’s going on? Why are you giving me your pack?”
“Because I’m giving you a chance, kid.”
A feeling of dread pools in the pit of your stomach.
“A chance to what?”
“Run.”
Your heart stutters a beat. “Run?”
“He’ll come looking for you. You need to get as far away from here as possible. Run away, as far as you can, and don’t fucking look back.”
All you can do is stare at her in shocked silence.
“I can help you get a head start,” Tess offers, quietly. “I can show you which direction to go in and put you on a path leading to the closest state highway—”
“But what if I don’t want to run?”
Tess places her hands on her hips, and she exhales an incredulous laugh. “Jesus,” she breathes, shaking her head in pity. “He’s really got you fucking brainwashed, doesn’t he?”
You glare at her. “I am not brainwashed, Tess.”
“You’ve gotta be if you’re telling me you wanna go back to him.”
“Tess—”
She cuts you off. “He gave the order to raid your camp and kill your people,” she reminds you. “He fucking slit your father’s throat right in front of you, then took you as his prisoner. He made you his fucking sex slave.”
“He takes care of me! He feeds me, makes sure I have a bed to sleep in no matter where we are. He keeps me safe. He—he cares about me.” You will your voice not to tremble as you stand your ground. “No. I’m not running away, Tess. I want to go back.”
Tess sighs. “You’re really not gonna make this easy, are you?”
“Take me back,” you all but demand, your hands curled into the least menacing little fists she had ever seen in her life at your sides. “Take me back to the cabin—take me back to him, Tess. I mean it.”
Amused, she huffs through her nose. “Or else what?”
“You can’t make me run away, Tess.” As you take a step towards her, she reaches behind her and swiftly whips out her pistol from the waistband of her jeans. You halt, freezing in fear when she aims the barrel of the gun at your chest.
“Actually, I can,” she says, her finger hovering over the trigger. “So here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna walk away now. And if you even think about following me, or trying to find your way back to the group, you will die.” She tosses you a tiny, wry smile. “Believe it or not, I’m doing you a real big favor, kid. Problem is, he’s got you so fucked in the head that you can’t see it.”
“Tess, please,” you plead. “Don’t do this to me!”
She begins to back away. “Remember when you’d say that to him? How you’d beg him not to do those things to you every night? Beg him to let you go?”
“Please, just take me back to him!”
You start to follow her.
“You take one more fucking step and I’ll shoot you,” she threatens, her eyes darkening. “Don’t think I won’t.”
Tess keeps her pistol pointed at you until she slips into the trees and disappears, abandoning you in the middle of the forest.
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He’s furious. Livid.
Joel paces back and forth on the porch.
“Where the fuck are they?”
The old, rotting wood that wraps all the way around the cabin creaks, and certain softer spots bend and buckle, threatening to give way beneath his heavy boots. Joel’s younger brother leans against the railing, which is just as fragile, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
“Christ, Joel. Can you fuckin’ relax?” Tommy grumbles, fishing around in his back pocket for his lighter. “You’re gonna bring the whole damn cabin down if ya don’t cut that shit out.” He sparks a flame and lights the filtered end of the cigarette. He takes a long drag, and exhales the smoke through his nose. “You’re gettin’ worked up over nothin’, brother.”
“S’almost sundown, and they’re still not fuckin’ back.” Joel shakes his head. “Fuckin’ knew I shouldn’t have let Tess take her. Somethin’ happened, Tommy. I just know it.” He lifts his shirt and reaches for his pistol, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans. “M’gonna head to the creek myself to find ‘em. Ain’t gonna sit around on my goddamn hands and wait for it to get fuckin’ dark.”
“She’s with Tess. M’sure the girl’s fine—” Tommy stops, his eyes widening slightly. “Well, hell.”
“What?”
Tommy jerks his chin over Joel’s shoulder before taking another slow, casual drag of his cigarette. He savors the last few seconds of peace before shit inevitably hits the fan and his brother unleashes his wrath on anything, or anyone, in his path.
Joel whips around and his stomach sinks, his blood ice in his veins when he sees Tess approaching the cabin. Alone.
Both his mind and body go numb. It’s a jarring shock to his nervous system, and it takes him a minute or two to fully process the fact that you’re not with her.
“Joel,” Tess says his name carefully as he descends the porch steps and walks towards her. “I need you to take a breath, alright?”
“Where—where is she?” His voice breaks, his weakness momentarily slipping through the cracks.
Not that Tess didn’t already know you were Joel Miller’s weakness, his soft white underbelly, the only vulnerable part of his hardened self that could be penetrated—you would have been his downfall. As much as she’d like to say she did what she did solely for your own good, she also did it for his, and for the sake of the group as a whole.
It needed to be done.
He stands in front of her, a ticking time bomb about to go off.
Prepared to face whatever consequences of the choice she had made, Tess tucks her gun away and sighs. “You need to take a breath—”
Joel snatches her arm, his fingers digging into the flesh above her elbow. His emotions hit him all at once.
Fear, worry, anger. It’s the third that takes precedence, and before Tess can utter another word, Joel yanks her forward. She crashes against his chest so hard that it knocks the wind out of her. “Where the fuck is she?” He leans down, his nostrils flaring as he brings their faces the closest they have been in almost a year.
“Joel, take a fucking breath—”
“Where. Is. She.” His grip on her arm tightens with each word he bites out through his teeth. He’s vaguely aware the others have piled out of the cabin, gathering on the porch to watch the altercation.
“She ran,” Tess explains, calmly. She doesn’t falter, not even as his fingers sink deeper into her skin, promising her painful bruises which will take days to fade away. If he decided to let her live. “She ran away, Joel. I turned my back for one fucking second and she was gone. She even took my fucking pack. I tried going after her, but it was no use. She was too fast.”
Behind him, Tommy snorts. “She outran you?”
Her eyes momentarily flicker to him. “Her knees are a lot younger than mine,” she replies, flatly.
“Which direction did she go in?” Joel demands. When Tess doesn’t immediately respond, he shouts, “Which fucking direction!”
Tess manages to snatch her arm out of his grasp. She glowers at him, hissing, “What the hell does it matter which direction she went? You won’t fucking find her.”
His eyes meet hers, and he sees it. Feels it.
She’s lying to him.
“Tess.” Joel’s voice drops dangerously low. He studies her face, his brows creasing with suspicion. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do shit, Joel. She fucking ran away.”
Without warning, Joel takes her by her throat. His other hand brings his pistol to her head, shoving the barrel of it against her temple. His nose touches hers. “Now, tell me why I have the feelin’ you’re not tellin’ me the whole truth?”
Tess lifts her chin. She searches his eyes, a sharp ache shooting through her. After everything, all the hell they had been through together—he would end her life, put a bullet in her because of you? Did she mean that little to him?
Or maybe she’d never meant anything to him at all?
She’s not sure which stings more.
“Because you’ve fucking deluded yourself into thinking that she willingly wants anything to do with you,” Tess finally answers. “That’s why.”
He ignores the burn of her scorching words.
“Where the fuck is she, Tess?”
“If she’s smart, she’s far away from here by now,” she hisses. “I did everyone a fucking favor, Joel. That girl is just another fucking mouth to feed. And what if you get her pregnant? That’ll be another one. Not to mention, a crying baby could draw unwanted attention and get us all killed. Ever thought about that? She’s not an asset to the group, she’s a fucking liability. Besides, I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re all fucking tired of hearing you ra—”
Joel digs the barrel harder into her temple, his finger hovering over the trigger. “Listen to me. You’ve got ten seconds to tell me where she is, y’understand me?”
“Or what? You’ll blow my brains out?” Foolishly, Tess chooses to call his bluff despite not knowing for certain whether or not he’ll actually pull the trigger. “Go ahead, then. Kill me, Joel.”
His finger twitches over the trigger, but he doesn’t pull it. He can’t fucking pull it. Not on her. Not on Tess.
Still in his hands, she sags slightly in relief.
Swallowing harshly, Joel Miller lowers his gun and does something she’s never seen him do before. He begs.
“Tess, tell me where she is,” he whispers. His pleading is subtle, and only she can hear it. “Please—just fuckin’ tell me where my girl is.”
Tess stands her ground and says nothing.
Releasing her, Joel shoves her aside and with nothing but his gun in his hand, he sets off to find you.
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“Ow, fuck!”
You gasp, quickly lifting your bare foot off the ground.
You’d stepped on something sharp—a stick, or maybe a rock?
In a desperate attempt to try and keep up with Tess’ tracks, you had stupidly left behind your shoes back at the waterfall. But the mere seconds you had spared by not stopping to put your shoes on hadn’t given you the advantage you thought it would. She had moved much too fast, and within minutes, you’d become helplessly, hopelessly lost. Every tree and every bush, they all look exactly the same, and for all you know, you’ve probably been going around in fucking circles for the past couple of hours in your search for her footprints in the dirt.
Sagging against the trunk of a nearby tree, you take a minute to try and catch your breath, to give your poor little feet a break from hiking over fallen branches and jagged stones.
Your head falls back, eyes gazing through the canopy of trees. Dusk has settled in, and nightfall is on its heels. It was foolish of you to leave behind your shoes, but even more so to leave behind the pack she had given you—in the pack were all the things meant to help you survive. Knife, flashlight, food.
Sure, you can survive a night out here in the wilderness without any of those things—but then what? Come dawn, what do you do? Where do you go? Do you just stumble around in the woods and hope for the best? Pray you’ll make it onto a highway with signs that will point you to a quarantine zone?
Hell, maybe you’re overestimating yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t survive long enough to worry about your next move. Howls in the distance remind you there’s wildlife out here, dangerous predators that come out after dark in search of their next meal. Or what about infected? It wasn’t unheard of for them to veer off the highway and lose themselves in the trees.
You recall your first few weeks in Joel Miller’s hands.
Escaping them was all you could ever think about, even though the chances of you surviving alone were slim to none, just like they are now. Never having been on your own, death would have been inevitable—but back then, in your darkest moments in captivity, you wished for it. You’d welcomed the idea of starving, freezing, or being torn apart limb from limb by an entire hoard of clickers. At least then, you’d die with your freedom.
Almost a year later, that wish has been granted.
You’re free.
You may very well die, but you would die free.
Closing your eyes, you think about Joel. His arms, that once held you down—held you still—as he did all those things to you without your consent, are arms your heart yearns to have wrapped around you, holding you close.
“Jesus,” you grit, a tear rolling down your cheek.
Maybe Tess had been right. Maybe he really does have you fucked in the head.
Joel was a monster. He had taken everything from you, including your innocence. He’d defiled you in ways you hadn’t known were possible. He was a terrible, terrible man.
A terrible, terrible man who kept you fed.
A terrible, terrible man who kept you warm.
A terrible, terrible man who kept you safe.
Another tear slides down the side of your face. What is fucking wrong with you?
You don’t know. But what you do know is, the thought of never seeing Joel again is somehow more terrifying to you than the thought of dying even the most brutal of deaths.
A loud rustling sound brings your train of thought to an immediate, sudden halt, and your eyes wrench open.
It’s darker now, but you manage to catch a movement in the shrubs, only mere feet in front of you. Panic flares in your chest, it rattles you to your very core, and even though every nerve in your body is urging you to move, you freeze, your back flush against the tree trunk. Your fingernails dig painfully into the bark as you watch the shrubs part down the middle, and a tall, hulking figure emerges with a heavy grunt.
At first, you think it’s just a figment of your imagination showing you what you wanted to see—a hallucination. Blinking furiously, you lightly shake your head, and then take another look at him. Your breath hitches when you realize it’s Joel.
He stares at you in the same manner, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re real, or if his mind is playing a cruel, cruel trick on him. Feet cemented to the forest floor, he watches you take a small, tentative step towards him.
Once adamant that you’d never look him in the eye, you find your gaze locking directly with his as you carefully take another step closer. Then another, and another.
“Joel?” It’s the first time you’ve ever uttered his name.
He seems as taken aback hearing it as you are saying it.
“Joel.” It rolls off your tongue smoother, and with more ease the second time around.
It sparks a flame somewhere deep, deep inside of him, a fire that burns differently than those ignited by carnal desires.
No, this is something else entirely, and you feel it too.
“Baby?” he whispers hoarsely. “S’that really you?”
“Joel!” you cry, hurling yourself into his arms.
Joel’s gun falls from his hand and he curls them around you. Burying his nose into your hair, he inhales deeply. The scent of you, the feel of you—you’re fucking real.
Shuddering with sobs of relief, your arms wrap around his waist, and you cling to him as if you’re clinging onto dear, precious life itself.
“Hush now, s’alright,” Joel soothes, cradling the back of your head in one hand, while the rubs soft, calming circles into your back. “I’ve got you, honey. M’here.”
“I swear I didn’t want to run away,” you explain through your tears. “I begged her to take me back to you, Joel, I really did! But she left me out here—she said she would shoot me if I tried following her back. Please, you have to believe me, you just have to believe me!”
He squeezes you harder against his chest. “I do, baby. I do believe you,” he assures you. Pulling away, he takes a step backward and takes your face between his palms, peering at you in concern. “Y’hurt, sweetheart?”
“No,” you hiccup, curling your hands around his wrists. Your lower lip trembles. “I—I thought I’d never see you again. I was scared I wouldn’t,” you admit, softly.
Joel’s thumb wipes away a fresh tear. “M’here now,” he murmurs. “You’re with me, baby. You’re safe, alright?” As a late evening breeze passes through, he lets you go and shrugs out of his brown jacket. He goes to drape it around your shoulders, but you snatch it right out of his hands, then toss it aside.
Something in you snaps. You take fistfuls of his flannel, pulling him down towards you to do yet something else that takes you both by surprise—you initiate a kiss. You lean forward and press your lips to his, a little swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as you clutch tighter at his shirt, holding him in place. Groaning, Joel opens his mouth more, his tongue brushing yours.
Liquid heat pools in your belly, and before you realize it, you’ve grown frantic, kissing him with fervor. Releasing his shirt, you slide your hands down his chest, over his stomach, lower and lower until you find his belt buckle. Desperate, you clumsily fumble with it, and that’s when Joel tears away from you, his breath hitching.
You’re begging before he can even say a word. “Please. I need you—I want you. Right now.”
You cup him through his jeans, and he exhales sharply.
“Fuck.” Without giving it a second thought, his hands reach for the straps of your dress, pushing them off of your shoulders. He roughly tugs at the material, letting it slip down your body until it falls around your feet. In a tangle of limbs and tongues, you both sink to the forest floor. Your hands brush his buckle, and he catches your wrists. “Not yet, baby girl. M’still in charge, alright?”
Sheepishly, you nod.
“Say it.” His command is firm, but somehow still gentle.
“You’re—you’re in charge.”
“Good girl.” Joel guides you onto your back. He’s over you in a second, swelling your lips with a hard, hungry kiss that leaves you dizzy and breathless. He moves his mouth, teeth scraping over your cheek and jaw, down to your neck where he nips at the tender, delicate flesh over your pulse point. Then, he bites his way over your collarbone and to your shoulder. “Bet she’s already wet for me,” he mumbles into your skin. “Ain’t she, baby?”
Pushing himself back onto his knees, he slides a finger over your clothed cunt, eliciting a small gasp from you. Hooking his fingers under the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear, he yanks the fabric down your legs. It catches on your foot, your wetness smearing against the inside of your ankle.
You’re drenched.
“C’mere,” Joel grunts, sliding his hands under your ass and pulling your hips over his thighs. He leans over you once more, your bare, throbbing cunt rubbing against the crotch of his jeans. He tuts lightly into your neck as you buck against him. “Such a fuckin’ needy little girl.”
Desperate, you try rolling your hips into his. “Joel.”
“Kinda like it when y’say my name.” He starts making his way down the length of your body. “Think I’ll like it even better when you’re screamin’ it. Won’t I, baby?”
Your stomach tightens as he nibbles his way down your neck again, teeth scraping over your clavicle and down your chest to your heaving tits. Taking one in his hand, the other goes into his mouth—his tongue is scorching hot over your nipple. He licks the pebbled flesh, sucks it and bites it while he rolls the other peak in between his thumb and index finger. “Oh fuck,” you gasp.
Releasing your breast with a wet pop, Joel sinks further down your body. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your tummy, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake. He stops over your mound and hovers for a fraction of a second before pressing his nose into the silky soft curls there. Inhaling deeply, Joel picks up the subtle, herbal scent of the lavender soap you had washed yourself with. “Fuck, y’smell so fuckin’ good.”
He pushes your thighs open, pinning one to the ground with his hand while the other goes over his shoulder. Your foot slides down his back, toes curling despite the fact that he hasn’t even reached the spot where you’re aching to have him most. Heart thundering, your blood rushes, roaring in your ears.
Joel turns his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh in another kiss. “S’this where y’want me, honey?” he asks you. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of your skin as he draws closer, his breath like steam on your core. He glances up at you, his cock twitching against his zipper at the sight of you laying naked before him on the floor of the forest. Willing. Wanting. “Hm? Right here?”
“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”
Thankfully, you only have to ask him once, and then his face is buried between your legs, and he is giving you what you want.
“Fuck!” you cry out. Back arching, your head tilts back until the crown of it meets the ground, leaves and twigs finding their way into your clean hair.
Joel’s tongue flattens over your cunt in a broad stroke, then dips between your folds, collecting your slick with a harsh groan, one that sends a bone-rattling vibration throughout your entire body, from head to curled toes. His mouth opens wider—a starving, greedy man trying to eat you whole. Sliding his tongue over your clit, Joel seals his lips around it, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until it swells in his mouth.
High-pitched little cries and whines spill from your lips. Your hands shoot down, fingers tangling themselves in his dark, graying curls, eliciting a grunt from him when you tug at his roots. “Joel, fuck,” you choke, your nails scraping against his scalp. He slurps and swallows your wetness, the sounds drowning out those of the night—the chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the soft hooting of owls are washed away until all you can hear is him devouring your pussy.
Your body starts to tremble, and you know you’re close. Joel does, too. He feels your thighs twitch, threatening to close around his head, but he wrenches them further apart with a muffled but firm, “No.” He drapes his arm over your pelvis, his large hand splayed on your belly.
Relentless, he sucks your clit, gliding his tongue over it, again and again until the muscles in your lower tummy tighten and you burst at the seams, unraveling into his mouth. Warm slick gushes out of you, a sweet mess he licks clean. You choke back sobs of pleasure, your body tensing, vision blurring with every stroke of his tongue, each scrape of his teeth over your clit.
Joel lifts himself onto his knees with a grunt and gazes down at you—his good girl, sweet and pliant and ready to be fucked full of his cock. His hands slide his belt out of its brass buckle, eyes still trained on you as he pops the button of his jeans and yanks down his zipper.
Your mind is fuzzy, still syrupy and dripping—it doesn’t fully register what he’s doing, not until he climbs back over you and you his hard cock brushes your thigh, hot velvet that sears the inside of your leg. Precum smears your flesh.
“Y’feel that? Feel what you fuckin’ do to me?”
“Joel.” Hands shaking, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on yours. You whine when he catches both of your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Your clothes—”
“Stay on.” Ducking his head, he nips at your pulse point and mumbles, “Tell me what y’want, pretty girl.”
Joel shifts over you, his cock now resting on your lower belly, thick and heavy and leaking.
You squirm under him, hips coming off the ground, that hollow thing inside of you begging to be filled.
“Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what y’want.”
“You, Joel—I want you. Please, please, please—”
He hushes you.
“I’ve you, baby. I’ve got you,” Joel promises. He wraps his other hand around himself, dragging the head of his cock along the seam of your puffy folds, up and down—he elicits a ragged little gasp from you when he grazes your clit and his fingers tighten around your wrists. He coats himself in your slippery slick until he’s glistening with it, and then he gives a slow roll of his hips, working himself into you.
Your mouth falls open. No words come out, no pleas for more—only jerky breaths, pathetic little pants for air as you take it.
Joel’s cock throbs, pulses like a heartbeat as your cunt welcomes him home. He presses his forehead to yours. “She’s always so fuckin’ sweet to me.” His voice is low, rough gravel. His eyes meet yours in the dark blue glow of the forest, and he savors the last moments of seeing your pretty face before the last traces of dusk are gone. Brushing his lips to the corner of your mouth, he feeds you his cock inch by inch, murmuring, “That’s it, honey. Good fuckin’ girl.”
You melt around him at his praise.
Releasing your wrists, he moves his hand, placing it on the crown of your head. “Ain’t ever lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he swears. “Alright? Never gonna be apart from me again, baby girl. Never. Y’understand me?” He curls his other hand firmly around your jaw, his fingers sticky with you and him. “Do you understand me?”
“Never,” you repeat, softly.
Joel kisses you, deep and slow, almost sweet. Tender. He breaks away, his lips hovering right over yours as he pushes his hips forward, bottoming out inside you.
Moaning, your hands grasp at his shoulders. Your legs widen further to accommodate the breadth of his hips.
“There y’go.” Joel presses deep within, until your belly feels hot and full. “That’s it, baby. Good girl,” he coos, drawing his hips back, then rolling them right back into you. He takes one of your ankles and tosses it over his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck into you.
A loud cry tears from the back of your throat. “Joel!”
He grins in the darkness. He knew he’d like hearing you scream his name.
Joel’s hand settles on your leg that’s over his shoulder, your thigh already shaking. “Y’gonna be a real good girl n’ give me another one?”
You try to answer him, you really do, but your mind falls further and further away.
His fingertips sink into your thigh. He strokes in and out of you, never retreating more than inches at a time so he keeps you full. Stuffed. “Christ. Takin’ it so fuckin’ well,” he croons, moving your leg off of his shoulder so they are both wrapped around his waist. Hunching over you, he bears down hard, using most of his weight. He almost chuckles at the little oof that puffs out of you.
Rocks and twigs dig painfully into your back, but all you can do is feel him. How close he is.
You’re right there with him.
“Joel—fuck, I’m gonna co—”
You’re cut off by your own sharp gasp.
“That’s it. C’mon, honey.” Joel slips his hand between your thighs, his fingers firmly rubbing your clit. “C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock—”
It rips through you like an electric current, a shockwave that has you clawing at the dirt. You come crying Joel’s name, crumbling into a whimpering, quivering mess.
Within seconds, he’s swept away by the same tide.
“Baby,” he groans, dropping his head into the hollow of your neck. He goes still and lets your tight cunt clench at him, gripping his cock as it throbs, pulses, empties into you. After a minute, he brushes a kiss to your neck before mumbling, “My sweet girl.”
Joel makes no move to pull out of you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your soiled fingers toy with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, shattered breaths slowing and piecing back together.
You gaze up through the trees at the night sky, feeling the safest you’ve ever been with the earth at your back and your whole world on top of you, his cock buried in your cunt.
Tess is right. Joel Miller really does have you fucked in the head.
You’re certain of it when you make the realization with a smile.
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divider credit to @/saradika 🖤
for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
Note
Hey I liked your writing on reader having to get in between Wolverine and Deadpool all the time 😆 it made me think what it would be like if they were crushing on you and there is a rivalry between them. If you could write what they’d do to win your favor or what shenanigans that would come with it 😂 subtle or not
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These two weren’t fond of sharing.
So when the other finds that they have similar feelings towards you, the outcome is never good.
They’re childish in a way where if either Logan or Wade was coincidentally standing too close to you, the other was bound to notice and make a scene out of it, all the while you wished you were anywhere else in that moment.
The pair couldn’t get along even if they bothered to try as sooner or later they’d end up stabbing each other just because the other one was breathing too loudly or just merely existing.
And yet their feelings towards you ends up causing Logan and Wade to butt heads more often, especially if you were constantly teaming up together, with you often being their meditator in all their conflicts.
Wade was more vocal and borderline flirty when it came to interacting with you, he would crack jokes, boop you on the nose or even playfully smack you on the ass just to hear your yelp in surprise and become all flustered.
‘Plush ass you’ve got there, babe! wouldn’t mind laying my head on it sometime and use it as a beautiful fluffy pillow.’ - Wade, skipping away.
Wade could be quite clingy at times so there would be moments where you can barely escape the guy as he hanging on your side like a koala bear.
You: Wade can you let go.
Wade: and let go of my emotional support person? *gasp* Do you want me to die?
You: well considering how fast you regenerate, you technically can’t die-
Wade: do you hate me? Do you think I’m clingy?
You: no- well yes but-
Wade: you hate me!
Wade can be dramatic and the only way to shut him up is to just let him be in close proximity of you and allow him to talk your ear off about how good a dog parents you’d be to Dogpool.
Dogpool is your weakness, you could never say no to Dogpool and Wade knows this like the back of his hand and will use this as leverage over wolverine.
After all It’s not like he has a version of himself that was an actual wolverine or maybe even a honey badger in yellow spandex. So Wade counts this as a win on his end.
Logan on the other hand would be more subtle with his approach, even though to Wade, Logan’s subtly was as an dopey cow standing in a field of grass with how the scruffier man tended to keep by your side protectively; so much so that he might as well start growling at every person who ever laid eyes on you in general.
He’s a guard dog of a man in every sense of the word but how that came to be was from a whole lot of trauma and loosing people he’s ever cared about, so needless to say he won’t act like he’s interested in you at first, his heart had been wounded about as much as his body has and even had the mental scars to prove it.
He’s lived a long life of pain, fighting, suffering and heartache. He’s not going to falter so easily until you did something that made him feel safe enough to fall for you.
Once he has however it was impossible to go about the mission without him always wanting to stand guard by your side when he sees someone he doesn’t fully trust, always using his body as a shield for your own as Logan knew he could handle much more punishment then you could. So he’d rather avoid you being grievously hurt by any means possible.
He’d probably scold you if you ever were hurt as he was afraid that he might loose you, yet his hands were gentle but firm as they worked to patch your wound so it’d heal properly.
Wolverine: you’re an idiot you know.
You: wow I really feel the love over here.
Wolverine: *huffs* you expect me to kiss your ass when what you did was reckless and could’ve killed you? *his hands linger on your own even long after he’s done patching you up as though committing your warmth to memory*
Logan is a secret softy who wouldn’t push you away if you were to ever fall asleep on him, he’d grumble but that’s about it.
He’d even toss you his jacket if you were to ever complain about being too cold or leave it somewhere for you to take yourself, again he’d act like he didn’t want you to but he actually did with how he almost smiled upon seeing you looking comfortable in his jacket.
Logan is evidently more subtle about his crush on you then Wade is, or so he’d likes to think but Wade can messily tell he’s smitten when he sees how Logan’s eyes were quick to follow you in a crowded room with protectiveness and adoration.
Wade: aww has our dear friend taken the stick out of your ass and you fell in love?
Logan: *growls* fuck off Wade.
Wade: *holds his hands to his lips and gasps* oh my gosh! You have! Me too!
Logan: *looks at him* you what?!
Wade: yeah cats out of the bag, I like them too wolvie. you’re not the only one to find them cute, how close minded of you seriously.
They can’t share to save their lives, I’ve mentioned this before but they genuinely can’t even if they tried because one is them was bound to get jealous and try to take you away from the other.
Wade: do you really want to be near me grumpy all the time? Yawn fest much.
You: stop riling him up, you’re making Logan mad. Why are you like this?
Wade: maybe because you deserve to be in the company of someone who isn’t still unhealthily hung up on his previous red headed lover.
Logan: you shut your fucking mouth.
Wade: see! He’s not denying it!
You: I’m going to go now. *leaves*
Logan: you should make full time fuck head your job.
Wade: and you should make full time teenage brooder in a full grown man’s body who still isn’t over his first breakup yours.
The shenanigans that would occur between these two would be headache inducing to say the least.
The constant fights that would break out between them that you’d have to break up.
The bickering over who gets to act like a couple with you on missions. They might even play rock, paper, scissors multiple times behind your back.
Wade probably tried to trip Logan up in front of you once but it backfired when Logan made Wade trip up instead as he puts a hand on your lower back and guided you away from the poor Merc with a mouthful of dirt.
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myfictionaldreams · 9 months
Note
I have such a specific idea for poly marauders so please bare with me .
James and Sirius were out to a fancy party and they come home early to see reader and remus having sex in the kitchen , remus has her spread on the table while he fucks her and she arches her back and sees sirius through blurry vision and calls his name, remus doesn’t notice them so he thinks shes calling her other boyfriends name “ wrong boyfriend sweetheart “ so he fucks her harder until she calls his name “ there you go love”.
You could continue this however you would like Maybe james and Sirius join them. I also love the idea that after everything when they’re showering she reassure remus and says something like “ it’s hard to think of anything else when I’m around you , you’re all consuming “ and the boys agree THATS SO CUTE.
I’m so sorry that this is long and graphic.
Say My Name // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader
A/N: Whoever you are, anon, I thank you for giving me this request because, holy shit, it has turned me (and Remus) absolutely feral, and I have no regrets.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, werewolf troupes, feral remus lupin, dom/sub undertones, possessive sex, size difference/kink (!), praise kink, dirty talk, self-confidence issues, gentle touching/kissing, rough oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, overstimulation, table sex, manhandling, multiple orgasms, crying, body worship, anxiety attack (nearly), restraints, blindfold, begging, aftercare :)))
Words: 5.7k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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“You both look so damn handsome!” you admire dreamily with a thick lace of sarcasm as you tighten the burgundy scarf around Sirius’ neck. The mischievous glint in those twinkling grey eyes brightened as he rolled them in jest, matching the doting smirk on his full lips. “Maybe you should forgo the leather jackets more often for the waistcoats”, you say with a lustful undertone to your words as you look up at him through your lashes.
“Hmm, you think so?” he asks, dipping his height ever so slightly so that he could press his lips to yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss that still managed to pull desire in your abdomen as you leaned in for more but whined as he stood back to full height and straightened the waistcoat you loved so very much.
From behind you at the entrance to the bathroom, James was attempting to knot his bowtie when he wondered, “Are you sure you both don’t want to come with us? We each can have a plus one, which means there’s room for two. We don’t mind being fashionably late”. Glancing over your shoulder, you took in his slick attire that also caused warmth to bloom beneath your cheeks. A simple black jacket shaped perfectly for his slim waist, a crisp white shirt beneath and a matching shade of burgundy to Sirus was the colour for his tie.
The matching colours were an idea of Remus’, who was lounging across the mammoth bed, his long legs stretched out beneath him with one ankle crossed over the other. He watched James intently, the corner of his eye twitching at the messy-haired Marauder's attempts to tie his bowtie.
Remus stood and approached him, batting away James’ fingers as he began to do the job for him. You watched them fondly before answering the unanswered question. “No, it’s ok, James. Remus and I have a lovely night filled with a romantic home-cooked meal and a fancy bottle of wine. Who knows where the night may take us? Might end in some lovely… hand holding”, you say with a simple shrug to your shoulders, returning to straightening the already pristine waistcoat of Sirius.
“Oh yeah? Some strong hand-holding, Moony, is that what you’ve got planned? You might need to up your game”, Sirius jokes under his breath as he watches your fingers closely with a dipped head.
Remus snorted, smiling to himself, knowing that your night would be filled with anything but hand-holding, especially as the hours ticked closer to the following day. It was approaching the full moon, not tomorrow but the next day, but that didn’t matter as the changes were already beginning to affect Remus, and it all started with his desire for possession.
The wolf in Remus took a keen liking to you, even from all those years ago when you met the Marauders on the train to Hogwarts. It was an obsession, a need that devoured him completely to be with you. It had been described to you like a mating. Remus’ wolf thought you were his mate; therefore, as the gap between Remus’ and the wolf’s mind thinned with the full moon, the desire would take hold of Remus. There was still the deep, adoring love that he held for James and Sirius, and thankfully, this stopped him from ever deeming them a threat against your love, but others? Well, that’s where the danger lay, and therefore, it was easier for everyone if you and Remus stayed in for the night rather than have a territorial wizard with werewolf anger in a room full of people.
“Remember to please be safe out there tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and for the love of Merlin, James, please don’t drink and fly again. I’m not having another incident like last time”.
“Yes, Mum”, James grumbles sarcastically as Sirius chuckles under his breath.
“I’ll make sure that Prongs is on his best behaviour”, Sirius reasons with you as his hands come to rest around your waist, pulling you ever so gently closer.
“Good”, you say promptly, whilst curling a piece of his long hair around your fingers before reaching up to kiss his lips with a fierce press. “You look so handsome tonight,” you try to praise him as your mouths are still kissing together.
“Don’t I always?” he responds cheekily, earning a half-hearted eye-roll as he eases away, swapping places with James so that he can say goodbye to Remus and James with you.
Your fingers automatically try to tangle through James’ hair, attempting to flatten out the messy strands, but after a couple of minutes of attempts, James tugs you by your wrists. “I don’t know why you even bother; you know my hair will just stay messy. Anyway, doesn’t it add to my roguish good looks?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as he gives you a broad grin whilst kissing each of your palms.
Your fingers cup his freshly shaved cheeks, caressing the smooth skin as you say, “I hope you have fun tonight”, whilst leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him with as much vigour as you could hear from the groans across the room with Sirius and Remus.
James sighed into the kiss, one hand matching yours by resting along your cheek and the other on your lower back as his lips pecked across your face until hovering next to your ear. “If you need us to come back, just send a note as we taught you; two flicks of your fingers and it should disappear, and we’ll come back straight away”.
Nodding your head in understanding, James kissed your cheek quickly before standing up to his full height and looking over at the other two men. “Sirius, take your tongue from Moony’s mouth; we must go!”
You tried to stifle your laughter as the two men pulled away from each other with rosy cheeks and wet lips.
Sirius and James disappeared with a flurry of green fire through the flu network installed in your shared home's kitchen. Remus turned to you with a heartwarming smile as he asked, “Shall we put some music on and start with dinner, love?”
You left it in Remus’ capable hands to find suitable music on his record player, and it ended up being a medley of David Bowie, which you were always happy to listen to. The two of you worked in unison to cook a beautiful roast dinner, moving around one another without getting in the way but making sure to remain at arm's length. Lingering touches to arms or backs, sipping slowly on the bottle of wine as Remus sang along to Bowie under his breath. You’d told him he could sing louder as you wanted to hear him, but he simply smiled and kissed your cheek, like he was embarrassed at being caught, but it was a rare day where Remus Lupin was embarrassed about anything.
The dinner was beautifully cooked, and there was enough for many more people than just you and Remus. Soon enough, you were stuffed full, thankful for deciding to wear a loose dress today with your expanded stomach. Remus was still eating as you sat and slowly digested your food, talking idly about fond memories from Hogwarts and how your work had been this week. Just anything domestically happy that the two of you could as you shifted closer in your seat so that his large scarred palm could rest on your thigh and your fingers interlock over the back of his hands.
“It’s a rare time when it gets to be just the two of us”, Remus muses, his hand squeezing your fingers and thighs as he pushes away his empty plate, his eyes solely focused on you.
“It’s been nice. As much as I love having all four of us together, sometimes it’s hard to keep up and give each of you all my attention, so when it's just one-on-one, it feels so intimate, wouldn’t you agree?”
His eyes softened as he nodded, “I definitely agree. You look so beautiful tonight, by the way. Have I told you that?”
Warmth filled your cheeks as you looked away to the glass of wine in your other hand. Even after all these years, one small compliment from Remus felt like the world, and it wasn’t the first time he had said that tonight; he’d said it every other sentence, but that didn’t hinder the giddy feeling from spreading in your chest.
“You, Mr Lupin, are a smooth talker”, you say, drinking a sip of your wine, ignoring his growing smile. Placing the glass onto the table, you shifted closer to Remus, resting a hand on his chest as you realised how much time had passed over the night. “So pudding, what would you like? I think we have some ice cream in the freezer, or if you’re lucky, James would have left us a couple of slices of his mum’s cake from yesterday”.
Remus didn’t answer immediately as you realised he was just silently watching you with the beautiful twinkle back in his eye, a curve to his lips that you itched to caress with your thumb. But then, he shifted forward in his seat so you were only mere inches from your faces touching, and the soft flop of his mousey brown hair fell into his eyes. “You’re so pretty, Remus”, you admire and then hold back a giggle as his cheeks flare with colour at your compliment.
“Pretty and scarred”, he muttered in response, cupping your wrist and bringing your fingers to his lips so he could kiss them carefully.
Your automatic response was to shout at him. It wasn’t that he had said anything remotely negative, but you knew the self-conscious thoughts that laced his words that he rarely spoke but still thought. You wanted to remind him of the hundreds of times he had ever scolded you for making negative comments about yourself or any self-doubt. Still, if you did, you knew it would ruin the positive mood for the night, so you wanted to continue with words of affirmation.
Closing the gap between each other, you kissed the tip of his nose whilst cupping both cheeks, paying specific attention to the thick pink scar that ran down from his temple, over his brow and his cheek. “I love you, scars and all”.
Remus’ tension seemed to ease from his shoulders as he breathed lightly out of his nose, his face lowering to rest on your shoulder as you held him for a moment before he began to stand and offered a hand, “What about a dance m’lady, then I’ll find you something sweet to suck on for desert”.
Ignoring the innuendo, you grinned up at him, placing your hand into his much larger palm. James and Sirius had lessons growing up from their families on how to dance for special balls they were forced to attend. You and Remus, on the other hand, were utterly clueless, but this only added to the joy and laughter as you both clumsily tried not to step on the other's toes or twirl without knocking into furniture.
You’d laughed so hard that a stitch formed in your side, causing the vivid dance to settle into a light sway. Your head rested on Remus's shoulder as his cheek pressed against the top of your head, arms around your shoulder as he lightly sang the next Bowie song.
Everything was perfect, especially as his rough fingertips danced up the nape of your neck, carefully tipping your head back so that you were now staring up into his kind eyes, his lips no longer moving along to the lyrics as he licked them carefully, moistening them before dipping his head. The kiss was as gentle as his hands now cupping your face, and you wondered for a moment if you were lightheaded from holding your breath in anticipation or from the effects of having your boyfriend kissing you.
Remus was soft, lovely and perfect as he eased away to put a gap between your mouths, but only so that he could adjust his position by keeping one hand on your jaw and the other around your waist before taking your breath away once more. Instantly, your body rose to the tips of your toes to be closer to him and firm the kiss.
The breath you’d both been holding released, noses pressing into each other's cheeks as the warm air tickled your ears. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, and as you relaxed into the kiss, many things seemed to happen at once.
The grandfather clock in the living room chimed midnight, and the soft Remus you’d been carefully kissing and exploring with your lips was now firmly gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you whilst simultaneously stepping towards the table as you squealed in shock, desperately gripping his shoulders for support.
Plates and glasses smashed onto the floor as Remus shoved aside the lovely table setting so that there was a firm blank canvas for you to be led on.
“Woah, Remus, just give me a minute.” You try to reason with him to at least get your bearings. Having been standing up two seconds ago, you were now led on your back with your boyfriend having become frantic with his actions. His shoulders shook with restraint, and his eyes didn’t lift from the edge of your skirt as he reached for the material. Not only this, but the brightness in his eyes had one, replaced with sinful hunger.
“Need you-” he muttered with a gruffness that hadn’t been there moments ago.
This was why you’d decided to stay in. Sometimes, Remus would curl around your body with the need to simply just breathe you in and declare that you were his; he’d become somewhat feral.
The fire in your body scorched to life as the need seeped into your core. As lovely as it had been, seeing him like this just did something to you. You wanted him just as desperately.
Frantically, you tried to help him lift up your skirt, but he was in control, pushing the material and tearing it in places with his firm grip until your legs and underwear-covered pussy were revealed. For a moment, it looked like he was going to dribble as you tried to reach for him to tell him to take a breath and compose himself, but all you were able to do audibly was scream out, head tipping back as Remus devoured you.
The Marauder hadn’t even waited for your underwear to be removed before his mouth was on you, hands not-so-gently wrapping around your thighs to push your legs apart, the slippers you’d been wearing now flying off in different directions across the kitchen. It was like he’d not eaten a single thing all night with the way his lips and jaw moved against your most sensitive of areas.
The sensation was odd with the barrier of cotton in between your cunt and his mouth. All you had was the pressure, wetness beginning to soak through from his tongue and the overwhelming heat from his mouth. Remus moved hungrily, licking and caressing with his mouth as you lay with your arms gripping onto the edge of the table above your head.
“Rem-Remus! Merlin, please don’t stop!” you begged desperately, allowing your body to succumb to his touch. You couldn’t even open your eyes without feeling dizzy with the sensations of his body all over your lower half as he pressed his tongue firmly against your throbbing clit, circling it with intention.
The hands on your thighs pushed harder, giving his face more room as a deep groan burned from his chest as he needed more. Still, as you whimpered from him to not stop, he stayed in place, stimulating your clit over and over again until your body was tensing with the pulses of desire from your cunt as your orgasm erupted.
His motions continued through the waves of pleasure, and even after, he carried on with his devouring, even as you verged on the edge of becoming overstimulated from the rough material of your panties rubbing against your delicate area. Remus needed more, and he was ready to take it.
The pressure on the back of your thighs suddenly disappears as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, giving you a better angle now to reach down and run your shaky fingers through his soft hair.
With your eyes firmly closed, you hadn’t noticed that your underwear had been torn clean from your body, only noticing when there was no barrier between what you both wanted. Your back arched from the stimulation of him sucking on your bundle of nerves, making an obscenely wet noise as your juices and his saliva caused a heavenly mess. 
Your legs had begun squeezing his face as you weren’t able to control your body, but he didn’t stop; he just simply continued to eat your pretty cunt. “Please….please Remus”, you continued to beg but unsure of what as you were thoroughly warm head to toe with the effects from your last orgasm, but his playful mouth knew just the right ways to keep you at the elevated bliss.
The thickness of his tongue pressed against your throbbing hole, delving as deep as he could go before curling it and exploring the warm softness of your cunt as the tip of his nose stimulated your clit.
It was intense, primarily as his large hands now rested on your abdomen, pushing down and forcing your hips to remain against the table so that he could remain in complete control of the stimulation to your body.
Clenching relentlessly around his tongue, your body couldn’t tell if it was calming down from an orgasm or having another. The overwhelming sensation caused tears to well in your eyes as the apples of your cheeks burned with heat. Everything was too much; even the clothes covering your torso felt claustrophobic as your nipples ached to be free.
“Ah!” you babbled, unable to even say his name as more intense waves of pleasure rocked from your cunt as it pulsed around his tongue. The tears escaped down your cheeks as you tried to gasp for air, your body finally slumping in exhaustion against the table as Remus began to stand from where he’d been on his knees for you.
Each of your legs was carefully eased from his shoulders to dangle off the edge of the wooden surface, not that you could keep them up anyway, as your entire body felt as if it was made of jelly.
“Did so good for me, Love. Taste so fucking good, wanna try?” he asked from where he now looked down at you, hovering only inches away from your face as his fingers wiped away the evidence of the tears. You nod quickly, opening your eyes for a split second to see Remus’ dark eyes and swollen, wet lips before they were pressing against yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth and allowing you the vulgar opportunity to taste your own juices from his mouth.
“My pretty girl tastes so good”, he admired, staring down at you, memorising every flicker of emotions on your face. You mewled at the compliment, nuzzling your face pathetically into his palm as he cradled your face. “What do you want? I want to hear you say it”.
His tone indicated that he was teasing, which was a rare attribute for Remus as he usually just liked to do whatever he had in mind, but when he was like this, wishing to get the very most from you as his werewolf subconscious began to flicker through his thoughts.
“You, I want you. Please!” you stress whilst trying to look up at him, fingers trembling at your side with the need to touch him somehow.
The corners of Remus’ lips tilted up as he smiled down at you, “Have I ever told you how much I love to hear you beg?”
Before you could respond, you were gasping as coolness licked over your chest as he’d swiped his wand down the centre of your clothing until it was falling off of your shoulders, and your body could be free from the confines. His eyes lowered, focused on your pebbled nipples as they begged for him to be touched, but he didn’t rush to them.
Instead, Remus began the long journey of exploring the rest of your body with firm kisses and licking with the flat of his tongue. He paid special attention to your neck, as he always did this close to the full moon as his sharp teeth grazed over your pulse point, the animalistic side of his begging to bite down and mark his girl, but he restrained, knowing it would be painful for you. The last time he’d done so, he’d had a right bollocking off of James and Sirius, who prattled on about how you weren’t his chew toy, even though you had insisted that it was ok.
Moving lower, Remus worshipped your breasts. He was licking the skin around the areola before drawing your nipple and some breast tissue into his mouth, sucking with enough force that the area swelled with the rush of blood. The fire in your core intensified as you gained enough energy to lift your hands and grip his shirt.
“I need you, Remus, please stop teasing me”, you beg, but all that earned in response was an approved grunt.
“Relax, and just let me kiss you”, he sniped with desire as you wanted to sass back but found yourself melting into the table instead. Each inch of your stomach, hips, legs, arms, everywhere he could reach in this position, he praised with his mouth until he was once again hovering above your lips. “All I can think about is you”, he admitted, his tone caught between hunger and pain as his thoughts were becoming too clouded by the wolf’s desire to be close to you.
Your fingers combed through his hair as you tried to sound as calming as possible, “I know, Remus, it’s ok. I’m right here. Take me”.
A shiver ran down his spine as he finally began to unbuckle his trousers, freeing his cock between your bodies as he rested on his elbows on either side of your face so that his face could nuzzle into your neck.
You took the honours of reaching between your legs, grasping his impressively hard cock, admiring the soft skin and veins that bulged as you pulled him closer to where you needed him most.
“Tell me you’re mine”, he begged as you directed his tip to your soaked hole.
Tilting your head so that you could kiss his cheek, you implored, “I’m yours Remus - FUCK!”
All you could do was curse and cling to him as, with one powerful thrust, the majority of his cock stretched into your pussy. You could never take his entire length unless it were through anal play, but that didn’t stop him trying as the pressure became overwhelming as he nudged against your cervix.
Your thighs trembled once more as he gave you time to adjust, sighing blissfully against your neck as if he had finally found what it was that he was looking for. However, as your cunt frantically fluttered around Remus as you adjusted to the intrusion, Remus began to rut his hips in short, snapping thrusts slowly.
You groaned at the sensation and found your hips meeting his until all restraint was gone, and Remus was fucking you hard and fast.
Pushing up on his hands so that he was looking down at you, Remus fucked you hard. The table beneath you groaned just as loudly as you were as it rocked against the floor, and for a split second, you hoped it wouldn’t suddenly collapse beneath you two.
Remus suddenly moved as if hearing your thoughts, widening his stance as he stood to his full height, hands on your thighs and bringing your body to the very edge of the table. In this position, he could fuck you with quick snaps of his hips. Your back arched in this new position, pleasure pouring into your soul.
However, a noise over the sound of the fucking caught your attention as the fire flickered with green flames, and you couldn’t help but gasp, “Sirius!” as he stepped out of the fire, followed closely by James.
Remus, still with his head hunched slightly from where he was watching you intently, growled at the name used, his gaze hardening on you as he leaned back until you looked into each other's eyes. “Wrong name, Sweetheart”, he demanded lowly, fucking into you with as power as he could, causing you to cry out and tense with the pleasure. “I only want my name coming out of your mouth, do you understand?”
“Yes, Remus! I’m sorry!” you plead with him as he fucks you harder.
“There you go, Love. See, it wasn’t so difficult, was it?” As he talks, he lifts his hands and covers your eyes so you can no longer look at Sirius or James as you’re plunged into darkness.
“Don’t be too hard on her, Moony”, James teases from somewhere across the room as you hear him and Sirius shuffling around but are unable to see what they are doing.
Remus grunts but doesn’t stop with his motions, making sure that your next orgasm is just as overwhelming and powerful as the others as your cunt clung to him for dear life, attempting to milk his balls with the powerful clenches but he didn’t stop fucking you all the way through your orgasm.
Having his hand over your eyes was a disorientating position to be in, especially as he would every so often kiss your cheek or neck, savouring your soft skin before moving away so that his momentum could continue.
A hiss echoed across the room from wherever your other two boyfriends currently were, and as another whimper sounded from what you assumed was Sirius, Remus then decided it would be a good time to completely pull out of your pussy, leaving you gaping and empty.
Before you could moan, more disorientation flowed through you as his hand was removed from your face, and your body was being manhandled so that you were now being turned over on the table until your front was pressed against the wood. With a gentle kick to your ankle, Remus made room between your legs for himself and fucked into you. He was even deeper in this angle, which you didn’t think was possible as his chest pressed against your back.
His and didn’t return to your face, allowing you to look at your other lovers. Sirius was currently sitting on James’ lap, both of their fancy clothes more dishevelled from earlier as the bowtie and scarf were off and the top buttons were undone. They stared intently at you and Remus as they touched one another. James was kissing the column of Sirius’ neck whilst his hands groped at the bulge at the front of his trousers. At the same time, Sirius was grinding his hips down on James, who you assumed had a matching bulge that was rubbing against Sirius’ arse.
“You’re mine, Love. Aren’t you? My pretty girl”, Remus whispered with deep penetrations of his cock into your cunt.
“Yes! I’m yours, Remus! You’re so deep”, you proclaim with a cry as you find yourself already wanting to peak and cum over his thick dick again. However, Remus knew you just as well as you knew yourself and could feel the tightening of your soft walls and stopped all thrusting as you sobbed with the beautiful feeling washing away.
His hand eased beneath your face, holding your jaw and forcing your sight away from your boyfriend's until it was tilted to look over your shoulder at Remus. “You only get to cum after them”, he demands before nipping your ear love with a sharp tug of his teeth.
“Moony, you really are tense, aren’t you” Sirius jokes breathlessly as he moves more eagerly against James, whose hand is now fully inside of his boyfriend's trousers, wanking him off in time with the movements.
Thankfully it didn’t take them long to cum, Sirius first with his head thrown back and trousers staining a dark colour in a little puddle. James then rutted up into Sirius a few minutes later, groaning and stilling his movements. Both breathed each other in deeply, lazily kissing and holding onto one another until your sudden gasp echoed around the room as Remus continued with his fucking.
Your head moved to drop onto the table as you accepted the fucking, but Remus’ hand remained beneath, cushioning your face from the hardness of the wooden table as his lips moved to the junction between your throat and shoulder.
With each thrust, Remus repeatedly grunted the possessive word, “Mine!” until it was all you could think about. Your orgasm nearly caused you to pass out with its intensity. Juices streamed from your cunt, dripping down your thighs as waves of clenching pleasure constricted around Remus’ cock until he was forcing as much of himself as he could into you, and thick seed spurted into you. The warmth was welcomed as it soothed your pussy from the inside out as it began to trickle down your thighs, mixing with your own juices.
You were half aware of your movements, more concerned with the fact that you couldn’t control the tremble and sobs as Remus pressed himself harder over your back, making you feel grounded and safe.
“Shh. Slowly breathe in and out for me. That’s it. Slowly breathe for me again, keep going, well done”, Remus encouraged for some time as you’d been close to a panic attack with the overstimulation, close to tipping into the submissive headspace that would have taken them a lot longer to draw you out of.
“It’s just… a lot”, you say shakily, eyes closed and absorbing every warmth he was willing to give you”.
“I know, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you”, he reassured calmly.
You’re exhausted, ready to fall asleep right there on the kitchen table as you whisper, “I wanna go to sleep”.
Remus kissed your naked shoulder, “After we clean you up, ok, Love?”
As Remus begins to stand, his half-hard cock slipping out of your well-used hole with a slurp and shudder from both of you, did James finally step forward whilst readjusting his softening cock in his trousers.
Squatting down next to you, his fingers tentatively caressed your cheek while keeping an eye on Remus behind you to ensure the action wouldn’t trigger him somehow. “You alright there?” James asked softly.
“Mmhm. Just a little sleepy”, you say whilst closing your eyes at the ticklish touch on your face.
Sirius stepped forward from behind James, raising his wand and pointing it to the destroyed rest of the kitchen mess, “I’ll clean up here, you guys look after her, and I’ll join you in the bathroom”.
Remus had to carry you to the bathroom as liquid drips flooded out of you and marked the direction you had been giving Sirius more to clean up. As this house was altered for the four of you, the shower was wide enough to provide you with Remus and James plenty of room to wash together.
You attempted to stand up on your own but ended up leaning heavily on Remus as James washed the remnants of the fucking from your body was skilled, careful fingers.
“You know I didn’t mean to say the wrong name, right? I just didn’t expect to see them standing there and-” you begin to explain with Remus, worried he’d been upset by you saying Sirius’s name earlier.
However, his lips quickly cut you off with a simple peck, “I know”.
Kissing his cheek several times, you mumbled against his skin, “It’s hard to think of anything else when I’m around you. You’re all consuming, Remus”.
Against your lips, you feel the heat radiating off of him in a quick burst of rare embarrassment as he actually blushed at your words.
“She’s right, Moony. Without you, there is no us without you”, James quips in a rare statement of sincerity.
A cough from the bathroom door catches all your attention as Sirius casually leans against the door frame, cheeks round with roast potato as he joins in with the Remus praising. “There’s a reason why we all argue every night to see who gets to be spooned by the magnificent Remus Lupin”.
Three of you chuckled before you asked, “Are you eating my leftovers?”
“What?” he says with a shrug, stepping further into the room and beginning to take off his clothing at last. “The food was scarce at the party, and Moony’s roasties are always so fucking good”.
You nod in agreement before looking up at Remus once more, who looks quite proud of himself for the flow of compliments coming his way. However, as you attempted to lean up onto your tip toes again to kiss his handsome face in some way, your knees decided they were finished holding up your way as you nearly collapsed to the floor, only stopping because of his strong arms wrapping around your waist.
“As much as I appreciate this little pep talk, I think we need to get someone to bed”.
Remus lay in the centre of the bed, where he rightfully deserved to be tonight with you on top of him, face resting on his chest and legs on either side of his hips as each of your hands held his. Sirius and James joined later, deciding they needed some extra alone time in the shower together, as the dry humping hadn’t entirely filled that horny spot for either of them.
You were asleep by the time both men crept into bed, resting either side of you and Remus with arms spooning around your back as the three shared a kiss goodnight. “How was your night?” Remus asked, looking between James and Sirius. “You’re both sober, so I’m assuming no mischief?”
“Oh, Moony, like we need alcohol to cause a riot. Why do you think we’re back so early?” Sirius declares whilst flicking out the laugh and curling in closer to the warmth of bodies as Remus chuckles into the darkness.
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spencerreidenjoyer · 2 months
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could you do some fluff about spencer and reader sitting together on the jet? maybe like a time where it’s late and they’re on the way home from a case, and they’re the only ones awake and just chatting and being all cute?
mile-high | spencer reid x reader
wc: 680, rating: everyone
tags: mutual pining, mutual crushes, idiots in love, best friends, (un)requited love (they just don't know it yet)
a/n: hello anon! apologies for taking a while to respond to your lovely request. i was thinking for a while about what would work with this request and got inspired when i was writing this extremely tired lmao. i hope this is fluffy and cute enough for u!! can be read as gender neutral reader too since i didn't specify any gendered pronouns hehe. do not be misled by the title for there is in fact no mile-high club type tropes in this lmaoo
Your eyelids are heavy by the time the jet takes off back to Quantico. The team had been working overtime with a particularly enthusiastic spree killer, with so little cooldown time between kills that you all had no choice but to keep working the case until you had cracked it, culminating in an early morning raid of the UnSub’s ranch house-slash-lair. Spencer had a particularly satisfying moment of cuffing the UnSub, after being perplexed by his erratic movement as he was crafting the geographic profile.
You had watched Spencer down mug after mug of coffee for the past couple of days, and now, amidst the rest of the team dozing off, a still-awake Spencer still flips through his book rather quickly.
“Not tired?” You ask softly, trying not to wake the team.
“No, there’s still caffeine in my system.” Spencer purses his lips as he looks at you.
“I’m surprised you haven’t developed a tolerance toward caffeine yet,” you grin, shaking your head.
“It takes about a month for your body to get used to caffeine and its effects, which makes your body basically perform the same as when you aren’t caffeinated. But abstaining from caffeine over a couple of days usually resets your body’s response to it.”
You tilt your head. “Dr. Spencer Reid abstaining from coffee? I couldn’t imagine that happening.”
“I just opt for decaf,” he smiles at you, grin growing when you giggle.
Your eyelids feel so heavy, but all you want to do is talk to Spencer. You don’t often get time alone with him, which is maybe a blessing considering your crush on him. Maybe Hotch can tell how much you like him and doesn’t end up pairing you two off too often because he doesn’t want his best agents distracted – that’s what Emily always tells you, but you always brush her off.
“You look tired,” Spencer states, matter-of-factly.
“I am, but I can’t really fall asleep. I don’t wanna fall asleep.”
“Why not?” Spencer asks.
“Wanna talk to you,” you answer, a little too honest, and you don’t notice the surprised look on Spencer’s face, like it’s surprising that you want to talk to him. “I also usually need something to cuddle when I sleep.”
“But you’re tired,” Spencer repeats, even though you’re painfully aware of the fact. “You should rest.”
“I like talking to you,” you huff, perhaps a little petulant, but you’re secretly preening at all the attention Spencer is giving you right now.
Spencer nudges you with his shoulder. You whine, and look at him. Spencer says gently, “You can hold onto my arm. And lay your head on me if you want to.”
You slip your arm around Spencer’s, and it feels so right to be holding him close like this. It’s a little awkward, since Spencer’s not totally used to physical touch, but you’re taking any chance you can get to be close to him. “You’re comfortable.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Spencer chuckles. “Especially if it means you’ll get some rest.”
“No,” you retort. “Just because you’re letting me cuddle you does not mean I’m going to fall asleep.”
Spencer snorts. “Sure.”
“I’m not going to fall asleep, Spence,” you say, snuggling closer to him.
Spencer just hums.
“I’m a drooler, just so you know,” you say, like you’re trying to scare him off. Frankly, you’re just trying to tease him.
“That’s okay.”
“I’m–” you cut yourself off with a stifled yawn, and you glare at Spencer when he casts you a knowing smirk. “I’m not!”
“Okay, you aren’t falling asleep,” Spencer echoes. “But do you want me to read you my book?”
You close your eyes, smiling as you nod. You don’t see the sweet way Spencer smiles down at you, and before he’s even done with the first two pages of whatever he was reading, you’re out like a light.
You don’t feel the way Spencer pushes your hair out of your face, and the way his thumb gently brushes your cheek.
Maybe one day, he’ll have the confidence to do that when you’re awake.
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sassydefendorflower · 2 years
Text
One of the biggest “I love you”s in Fullmetal Alchemist are all the ways people respect each other’s bodily autonomy. There are two scenes that carry this theme to its fullest potential, and I love them so, so much.
The first one is quite iconic: Riza’s throat was slit and Roy has a chance to save her - by dooming their country and committing human transmutation. And Roy would do it. He would throw it all away just to save her, even though he knows that human transmutation is an unforgivable sin. But she looks at him and signals him to Not Do It. And he doesn’t. He wants to, but he doesn’t do it. Because only minutes earlier, he hurt her again by dooming himself (and potentially the country) with his fury.  And if there is one thing Roy Mustang doesn’t want to do, it’s hurt Riza Hawkeye any more than he already has. Even if that means watching her die. Even if that means letting her go.
He respects her and their goals enough to say no.
He loves her enough to let her die.
The second one is just as heart-wrenching: after Al sacrificed himself, basically dying in the process, Ed tries to think of a way to save him. Both Hohenheim and Ling offer him a Philosopher’s Stone to bring Al back - and Ed says No. Even though he wants nothing more in life than to save his little brother. Even though there is nothing he wants more desperately than the safety of Al. He says no for many reasons - Hohenheim is his father after all, Ling needs the stone to become Emperor - but mostly he says no because he and Al promised to never use a Stone for themselves. And he respects that. He puts Al’s wish above his own desire to see his little brother again. He respects Al’s decision (his own conviction) enough to break the rules of the world to find another way.
Because he loves Al - he loves him enough not to break the fundamentals of their principles. He loves him enough to respect the integrity of their believes.
And the narrative rewards both Roy and Edward for their choice to respect the agency and bodily autonomy of their loved ones - they survive, are saved, are brought back... and neither Ed nor Roy had to force their own desire for them to live on clearly stated last wishes.
So often we see media portray the disregard for bodily autonomy (especially in medical contexts) as a sign of love, the breaking of patient-doctor confidentiality as a sign of care, the violation of a living will as a sign of family - I like to think that Fullmetal Alchemist shows us that there’s strength in respecting it instead.
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ithebookhoarder · 4 months
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Hello hi ! 🤗
Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?
(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover
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A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕
Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)
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Aaron Hotchner
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We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field. 
This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together. 
As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over. 
However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary. 
“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?” 
“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?” 
“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”
He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes. 
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David Rossi 
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He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover. 
“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.” 
He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either. 
One, because he’s kind of flattered. 
Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves. 
Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you. 
“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” 
You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks. 
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Derek Morgan
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Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you. 
Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss. 
Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it. 
The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss. 
If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms. 
“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.” 
“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.” 
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Emily Prentiss
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She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple. 
She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you. 
“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck. 
She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision. 
She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.” 
With that, she’d be off. 
She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself. 
“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.” 
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JJ
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JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so. 
However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in. 
She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control. 
“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.
After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.  
Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.” 
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Luke Alvez
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It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house. 
Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights. 
“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“ 
“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.” 
“I - ok.” 
Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed. 
Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.
“You good?”
“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.” 
“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”
“No. They just left out the back.”
“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.” 
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Penelope Garcia 
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If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.
Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.  
All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.
She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it. 
“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”
“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.” 
“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”  
Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.  
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Dr Spencer Reid
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Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together. 
As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally. 
He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body. 
I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear. 
“What was that?”
“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”
“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.” 
Masterlist
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gothicgaycowboy · 3 months
Text
❤︎ Jacaerys Targaryen NSFW alphabet ❤︎
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My modern Jace’s parents are Rhaenyra and Alicent hence why I’m using the last name Targaryen instead of Velaryon <3
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
King of aftercare. Nobody else does it like this man when it comes to aftercare and he doesn’t even do it consciously. It’s just his instinct to take care of you.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He’s not very into idolizing his own body but he likes his shoulders the most. He learned to appreciate them more when you started complimenting them.
Jace is a thigh man. He loves grabbing at them while he fucks you or feeling them squeeze around his head when he’s eating you out. Natures pillows as he calls them.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)
His favourite place to cum is on your face. It’s probably the most shocking thing about Jace considering he’s the biggest gentleman out of all his brothers, but he just can’t help it. The image of your pretty face coved in his load will never not drive him insane.
D = Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)
He doesn’t really have any crazy secrets, but he really wants to record the two of you fucking. He thinks about it more than it’s probably reasonable for a person to think about it. Setting up his phone to take in the sights and sounds of you getting fucked by him.
Jace knows it’s incredibly stupid and risky with the profile of his family’s name — neither of you have even sent nudes to each other for that reason. It’s just the idea of the two of you having a sextape for your eyes only is very hot to him.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He went through a phase of sleeping around in high school like his brother (Aegon of course) until he realized it wasn’t for him. He didn’t feel right using girls like that, he’s a romantic to the core.
The only good thing that came out of his little experimentation was building up quite the resume of experience. You’re grateful for his little hoe phase as you called it.
F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying, may include a visual)
Jace is a firm believer in the superiority of missionary. He gets to control the pace and look directly at you the whole time. If he’s feeling wild he’ll hike your knees over his shoulders.
He also loves being able to whisper dirty things in your ear while fucks you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)
He is generally a lighthearted guy at all times so the bedroom wouldn’t be that different. He would never take himself too seriously but he’d also never ruin a perfectly romantic moment by acting like an absolute loon.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes?)
When it comes to shaving he prefers comfort over aesthetic. He’ll trim when necessary but you are never getting that man shaven bare. He’d want you to do the same in terms of shaving for your enjoyment, not his.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Jace is a good old fashioned lover boy. He believes in romance out and inside of the bedroom. Some people have called him corny but he takes it as a compliment.
But just because it’s romantic doesn’t mean it’s boring and repetitive. This man puts all he has into his lovemaking. Honestly he thinks it’s what he was put here to do with his life.
J = Jack Off (how often do they do it? how do they feel about it?)
Probably about once or twice a week. He would never use porn though, for one he knew all that shit was fake, and it just felt wrong especially when he had you. He likes to use his imagination when he does it, picturing you sprawled out underneath him, bouncing with every thrust he gives you, eyes rolling into the back of your head.
In his mind that’s better than any porn ever made, because it’s just for him. Although he does still want to have a real video of you at some point in the future.
K = Kink (what are they into?)
He’s pretty basic when it comes to kinks. Dirty talk will always get him going — the sound of your voice in general actually. He’s convinced he could cum from the sound of you reading him a grocery list. He also really likes watching you masturbate. Seeing the way your body moves in response to your own hands and toys is priceless to him.
L = Location (favourite places to have sex)
He’s a bed guy all day and all night. Nothing beats the comfort of his sheets, but he’s open to trying out wherever you want to.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going?)
Kissing will always led to something more with Jace. Innocent peck on the cheek? It’s moving to the mouth. On the lips? You’re gonna feel some tongue sneaking its way through.
If you kiss him on the neck you are asking for it. His neck might honestly be more sensitive than his cock.
N = Nope (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Absolutely nothing that hurts you. The only way he can stay turned on is to know he’s causing you pleasure, not pain.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
If he had to choose between never eating pussy or never getting his cock sucked he will happily choose never getting head again.
Jace was built to eat pussy. It’s his idea of heaven. He will spend hours doing it without even breaking a sweat. There have been many times where you had force his moth off you because he ‘wasn’t done yet’. Your pussy is literally a drug to him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)
Jace is all about taking his time with you so it’s slow and sensual all the way.
Sex with him always starts with you getting eaten out (and we all know he’s enjoying every minute of that) so after he’s had his fill of you that’s when he gives you what you’ve been waiting for. Hips rocking smoothly into you as he tells you how gorgeous and perfect you are.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often?)
He would prefer not to, but if you or him are feeling desperate then he’s not too prideful to get down on his knees for you real quick.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)
He’s pretty vanilla when it comes to experimenting but he will do almost anything to make you happy.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)
A two to three rounds type of guy for actual penetration, but if we’re talking eating pussy? Days on end with no breaks.
T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He was open to trying them when you asked him but the idea has never crossed his mind on his own. He never thought of them as a necessity. The first time he watched you use a vibrator on yourself changed his mind instantly. Anything that gives you pleasure gives him twice as much.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease?)
Only so he can make your high last longer. He will rub your clit for hours before he lets you cum just so he can watch you squirm.
V = Volume (how loud are they, what sounds do they make?)
He’s more of a whines and moans type of guy than a grunter. He also loves praising you.
W = Wild Card (a random headcanon)
He’s never tried eating ass but he secretly wants to. When he’s down there, nose rubbing circles against your clit, while his tongue licks its way into your wet hole, he’s been tempted to travel a little lower. To spread your cheeks and run his tongue against your ass while his fingers spread your cunt open is his fantasy.
The only thing stopping him is he’s afraid you’ll think he’s gross.
X = X-Ray (what’s goin’ on under those clothes?)
Hung like a true horse. Other than just being a people pleaser to his core, the whole reason he got so into eating pussy was because he knew in order to take some of that initial pain away he needed to prep you first.
He never wants to hurt you but it’s just inevitable sometimes with the absolute size of him. BDE comes with a price.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
He wants to live between your legs. Jace has ‘joked’ many times that the ideal day off for him would be having you sit on his face until he suffocates. He’d be more than thrilled to go out that way.
Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
You run him ragged. Even if you fuck during the day it is required both of you have a power nap immediately after.
I wrote way too many of these alphabets back to back so sorry if the wording in a them is a little repetitive, hope you enjoyed ♡
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anadiasmount · 3 months
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to me - jb blurb
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quick sum: family reunions aren’t easy especially when you and your clingy bf have been far apart the entire evening. but hey what’s wrong with a few forbidden kisses…
“jude? you in here?” you whispered loudly careful to be sure if anyone behind the door wasn’t asleep or busy. “i’m here,” jude opened the door a small and tired smile in his lips when he saw you. you let out a sigh of relief, throwing yourself almost immediately to him, jude chuckling but not holding back from hugging you tight.
his eyes closed and now happier, the familiar fancy scent invading his senses and knowing he was at peace. the bad mood he was in disappearing almost immediately when you tugged on his shirt, a sign to him that all you wanted was this. to be held. to be loved. to makeup for the past few hours.
“i tried to get away as soon as possible but my aunt just kept pushing and asking for more and more help,” you say muffled. if there’s was one thing about you, it was how much of a people pleaser you were, wanting to make sure people were content and satisfied even if you didn’t feel at your very best.
“we just finished the cupcakes and cut up all the fruit. i saved you some so you we can make a smoothie tomorrow. we still have so much to pack and decorate but i had to see you jude,” you continued.
this reunion was planned last minute as you were celebrating your parents anniversary all together by the shore. you brought jude along knowing you had little time before he returned back to international duty. though what you didn’t expect was to be far from the each other and ordered to sleep in separate rooms. not being able to share a single glance unless you crossed paths in a hall or room.
it was all unfair. especially to jude because of how attached he was to you. no one had to tell him, he knew himself and he didn’t mind one bit. so you being here now, even if it meant for five minutes, it was a maddening drive.
“y/n,”
“hmm?” you replied tiredly, your hand sneaking up all the way up his spine to resting it on his neck, thumb brushing along his skin softly. “please don’t leave me again… just stay here and we can enjoy the rest of the night here,” jude begged, lifting you up effortlessly and bringing you to the bed.
“i wish i could handsome but there’s so much that needs to be done before we can all finally rest,” you cuddle into his embrace, your nose tracing his now soft jaw where he recently shaved, pressing a kiss onto the corner of his mouth. “and you know how my family feels about us staying together,” you pout.
“yet your family doesn’t know what we do back home,” jude said smugly where you gasped and hit his chest. “stop it!” you warned getting shy and nervous. “they’re not here, and they don’t know what their sweet innocent y/n is like when she’s with me, hmm,” jude cocked his head to the side, tracing a small stand of your hair as you kept shaking your head. almost in denial yourself.
“and they won’t ever know,” you say, feeling jude’s hand rest just below your bum, then grabbing your free hand and giving your knuckles sweet and gentle kisses that made you swoon. you’d never complain or get tired of this. how affectionate, how adorned, how loving he was behind closed doors. with you and only you.
jude often got told how quiet and reserved he was. how angry and impatient he was on the field. or how his quick tempered was easily seen. but with you? it’s like a flip of a switch. a happy jude who was cling to his girlfriend and never wanted to let go or leave.
“yet you’re here, do they know that?”
“no…”
“good, because all i want,” jude got up bringing you to his lap where you giggled and shushed him as the bed creaked. “all i want is to take care of my girl,” he brushed his hand over your cheek, “and be hidden away in here with her,” he pressed a small kiss on your lips. hearing you intake a small breath of hesitation yet yearning for more.
“i can’t get over the fact i get to call you mine,” jude relished biting his bottom lip as his hand dragged your sides and traced down to your hips. “that i’m lucky enough to have you in my life,” he stared into your eyes then looked down at your necklace with his initial. “that i get to be with your forever and ever,” jude said cheekily before giving you another kiss to test the waters.
you frown leaning in for another but jude pulls back. having to resist or else then yoor whole family will know where you’re at, and what you’re doing behind the closed door that’s meant to be opened. “if i continue kissing you i won’t be able to stop baby,” jude said heavily, “i don’t trust myself especially when you look so breathtaking i’m this summer dress.”
“one more jude,” you asked, shifting closer to him, jude closing your eyes but giving in because he knew he couldn’t deny you anything. if you wanted something, you got exactly that. and if in this moment you wanted a kiss that meant and lasted a lifetime, he’d grant you that despite the restrictions he made.
he kissed you softly, relishing the playful and softness from you before he managed to lift and set your back onto the mattress. now on top of you where he controlled, soft licks that turned into a teeth clashing makeup session, with heavy breathing, groans and tiny whimpers that escaped your lips.
“if your family comes looking and they find you like this?” he taunted, feeling as you squeezed and pressed his pelvis down onto you. “in this small room with your boyfriend?” his lips pressed onto your pulse point giving you wet kisses before blowing air, making you shiver in pleasure and anticipation. your nerves on fire as you knew what would happened.
“then they’ll have to deal with because i want you. forever.”
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unluckiestmember · 2 months
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YAY, YOU'RE BACK TO WRITING FOR ARCANE. How would the arcane characters react (mainly vi, ekko, and jinx because i would marry, marry, and marry them all!!) to a reader who is sooo affectionate and finds every last thing they do so cute they get cuteness aggression and just jump at them like a cuddle bug often? thank you so much!!
Coming right up!
Arcane x Cuddle Bug! Reader
Characters: Powder/Jinx, Violet "Vi", Ekko, Caitlyn Kiramman, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda, Sevika and Ran.
Warning: None really. SFW.
A/N: Am I the only one who wants to snuggle into Caitlyn? Ugh, I love her so much.
Powder/Jinx
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“Oh! Hey there, sugar! You want to cuddle? Don’t have to ask me twice! I’ll cuddle you so much that you get tired of me! But you’d never get tired of me, right?”
Jinx is a super clingy person, so for you to be as clingy as her it’s like you two are a match made in heaven. There’s barely any time that passes when you two are not touching each other and she lives for your cuddles. It doesn’t matter if you hug her out of nowhere or she sees you about to embrace her, she is stopping everything she is doing and pulling you into the tightest of hugs.
Most of the time if she isn’t causing mayhem in the streets of Zaun or busy with her inventions, she will spend her time just holding you so close and showering your face with the cutest but most childish of kisses. She doesn’t care if it’s in private or public, she will make it known that you two can’t keep your hands off each other. You are her cuddlebug and she is yours and that won’t ever change.
Violet “Vi”
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“Woah there, cuddle bug! You’re gonna make me screw up my workout… Oh forget it. How can I say no to you?”
Because Violet is absolutely touch starved, she will never decline your cuddles, even if you take her by surprise a few times with how you hug her so suddenly. She finds it adorable how you fangirl around her and find everything she does to be awesome or cute. Granted she does wish you’d call her hot or sexy, but knows that isn’t really in tune with your personality.
Regardless, she tries to make sure you know how adorable you are, always telling you while you two are cuddled up together how lucky she is to have you and how you are so adorable. Even when you visit her at work, she’ll try to drop everything and have you run into her arms to pick you up. And every time she’s got time off work or is coming back from a job, she’s automatically looking for you so she could hook you in her arms and never let go.
Ekko
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“Y/N, haha! You know we gotta keep this private, babe- The kids are gonna pounce on us any second now!”
Does Ekko love hugging you? Absolutely. The warmth of your arms around his body makes him stop everything he’s doing and just hug you while calling you his firelight or firefly. Unless he’s calling you an angel or lovebug, which never fails to make Scar either look at you two in awe or roll their eyes in mock annoyance. Unfortunately, Ekko does try his best to make sure you two don’t get super affectionate around the children, especially when it comes to hugs.
Why? Because as soon as you hug him, the children find this as an invitation to gather around him and have him nearly die under a cuteness overload of a group hug. It’s nice as a once in a while occurrence, but all the time? Maybe not. Outside of the reactions you two garnish and even the teasing of you being the firelight king/queen, Ekko lives for your cuddlebug energy, wanting to be in your arms after a long day’s work. It’s always the best way to end the night… 
Caitlyn Kiramman
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“And that’s why if I am able to block this end of the road, I’ll- Oh!... Oh come here, sweetheart. If you wanted to cuddle so badly, you could’ve asked.”
Caitlyn has always been someone who was more subtle with her love, pulling you into brief kisses, cupping your cheek and holding you by your waist. She usually leaves the more out there gestures like hugging and cuddling for you to initiate. But when you do? It might be harder for you to get her off of you instead of the other way around. It can be at work, in her home, outside of work or at an event. As soon as she feels your arms wrap around her slender body, she’s stopping for a second to hold you back and kiss your forehead.
She will continue working if you interrupt her during a briefing or in the middle of cracking a case, but the entire time, she will have at least one arm around your body and make sure you are comfortable. Her comrades tease her about it and she’ll scowl a bit, but she doesn’t care. As far as she can tell, she’s extremely lucky to have you as a lover.
Viktor
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“Ah! Oh, it is just you, zolotse. Remember, you have to warn me of these cute little hugs of yours.”
At first, Viktor wasn’t used to your physical affection and how you were in awe of everything he did. He actually thought you were mocking him at first or being silly. But after a while, especially when the two of you became a couple, he grew accustomed to your affections. He does get a bit startled when you hug him out of nowhere and he does have moments where you cheering him on does make him a bit bashful, but he enjoys your sweet gestures regardless.
He does find it difficult to be as outgoing with his love for you as you are with him, but he does try his best to make you realize he loves you, especially in the form of quality time and calling you by sweet pet names bound to make you blush. Viktor has a tendency to pass out from working too hard and waking up in your arms. And though he’d never say it out loud, you know based on the way he snuggles into you, he adores it and adores you.
Jayce Talis
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“I know what you want and I want it too- So bring it in! I’ve waited all day to be in your arms!”
Because Jayce is always out at work, it’s kind of hard for you two to be around one another all the time. That’s why when he does reunite with you after hours or you two can be together on days off, he’s spending the majority of his free time with you or wrapped around you. He sort of craves for your praise and compliments as much as he craves your cuddles.
Many would compare the councilman to a needy dog wanting his owner’s undivided attention and he definitely gets that through you. Though he may try to act all cool or play coy, everyone knows that you mean so much to him and that he becomes putty around you. Even if they don’t, you’re not afraid to say it aloud. Just make sure Jayce isn’t around or that man will become redder than a beet.
Mel Medarda
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“What’s wrong?... I know that look. You want to- Ah! Well looks like you beat me to the punch, darling. How about we take this to the bed, hmm?”
Mel wasn’t really given physical affection when she was younger. She was more someone who preferred verbal affection with words of affirmation. So when it came to you and how affectionate you are, she found herself adapting and loving physical affection as much as telling you how much she loved you.
Your cuddles and sweet gestures are her personal heaven she loves returning to after a long day’s work, especially if she can spend an evening with you platonically in your shared bed. In your arms, she feels she can air out anything that’s bothering her or interests her, especially when you admit how cute it is when she does. Though this kind of intimate affection is delegated to private quarters, anyone can know from the way Mel speaks of you outside of home and at events that you mean so much to her.
Sevika
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“Yeah! So then I was like screw you, I can do whatever- Hold on. Uh, Y/N. I thought we agreed to not do this at work?”
Sevika is considered the Right Hand of Zaun, a woman who is feared if not respected by her peers. And she’d like to keep it that way. Which means that while you two are at work, she prefers it if you don’t cuddle her around co-workers and give them something to tease her about. You two can only flirt and kiss and even then, it has to be sexy…
But alone, when both of you are away from the public eye, Sevika is at your beck and call wishing for nothing else but to hear your sweet praises and melt into your arms and touch. Expect her to call you the cutest thing ever and tease you on occasion, but afterwards she’s basically a big needy cat, or as she prefers to be called, a panther. It’s moments like these where you can really consider yourself lucky to see a raw side of Sevika. And it was only preserved for you.
If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
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innerfare · 10 days
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I Love You - Part 1
Summary: Who says I love you first? How do you say it?
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid
Genre: Fluff
CW: None // SFW
——— 
Luffy: He showed it first, asking you to join his crew, making sure you had a safe and healthy place to be yourself, fighting anyone who stands between you and your dreams, saving his funniest jokes until you're around to hear and giggle at them, even going so far as to share a little (really, only a little) bit of his meal with you, but you were the only who actually said it first. He gets severely injured after a nasty fight, and you stay by his side while he sleeps it off like he normally does, though it takes him longer than usual to wake up. When he does finally wake up looking for you and something to eat, you fling yourself on him and tell him how much you love him. You didn’t intend on confessing, but you were so worried about him and the words fell from your lips as soon as you knew he was okay. Your brows are still furrowed, and when Luffy asks why, you voice your insecurity that he doesn't feel the same way. Luffy just laughs at that and ruffles your hair. “Of course I do.” With that, he crawls out of bed in search of food. He quickly falls into the habit of telling you in the morning when you wake up, and it fills you with so much joy, it’s like he’s giving you a happy vitamin to start your day. And saying those words bring him so much joy that saying them is like he's taking a happy vitamin, too.
Zoro: To your surprise, it was Zoro who said it first. Though Zoro seems the type to bottle up his emotions, he’s actually not, he just doesn’t seem emotional because he’s really good at dealing with his shit. And he knows all too well how temporary arrangements can be, how quickly life can be snuffed out, how easily the people he loves and cares about can be taken away from him. So one late night when he’s alone in the shower, washing his hair (using Nami's expensive shampoo and conditioner because she left it in the shower and Zoro just uses whatever's within his reach) and thinking about you, he realizes how he feels, and he doesn’t even consider not telling you. He climbs into bed afterward in just his boxer briefs, his hair still damp and smelling extra good, shakes you awake, kisses you a few times, and mutters that he loves you in your ear before passing out, not even waiting for you to say it back. He doesn’t say it often after that because he doesn’t thinks actions matter more than words, but he always says it when one of you is injured or after an argument. 
Sanji: Sanji technically confesses first, but you’re the one who actually says those three words. He’s holding your hand in both of his, clutching it close to his racing heart, as he looks down at you, telling you all the ways you make his life better, all the things he’s looking forward to doing with you, all the energy he’s going to put into keeping you happy, healthy, and safe. And the words just sort of fall from your lips. He stops mid sentence, eyes wide and mouth open. The seconds drag on in silence before he’s pulling your lips to his. Both of you are very generous with these three words, saying them often and in public. If you ever hang up the transponder snail without telling him you love him, he’s calling you right back to make sure everything is alright. (Also, not really relevant, might do a separate post about this, but Sanji is definitely a heart-shaped jewelry sort of guy. He just is. Certified lover boy.) 
Ace: Your first, more implicit confession came one night before you two were ever in a relationship. You noticed he was a little off and saw him slip away from the crew as they were drinking the night away. You found him sulking by the water and sensed he was hurting, especially when you asked to say and he told you he’d rather be alone. Before you leave, you tell him, “I just wanted you to know that I’m happy you’re alive.” You had no idea that it would strike a nerve, just got the feeling he needed to hear it, and this was confirmed by him grabbing you by the wrist as you walk away and pulling you into his arms. You continue finding implicit ways to tell him you love him such as, “I think the world is a better place with you in it,” and, “I’m so glad you were born,” and Ace is never really sure how to respond, but he soaks your words up like they’re sunlight and he’s a plant. This culminates in him blurting those three words out one day when you’re sitting in a tree together, Ace avoiding your eyes for fear you’ll reject him. When you lean in and kiss his cheek, instead, he almost cries (and he does when he’s alone later on, your love the purest thing he’s ever known). 
Sabo: Sabo is always taking risks. He lives a dangerous lifestyle as the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, and on top of being one of the most wanted criminals in the world, he is an incredibly reckless individual who thrives when his life his threatened. He does not, however, thrive when your life is threatened. So accustomed to being the one others are fretting over, so used to Koala telling him off for taking this risk or making that dumb decision, he is completely blindsided by the anxiety he experiences when he finds out you’ve been captured. Naturally he launches a rescue attempt, and when it succeeds, he wraps you in his arms and tells you how much he loves you. He always makes sure to say it after that, telling you in the morning when you wake up and at night when you go to bed together, the memory of not having you there to hear it all too fresh. 
Law: Law is pretty bad with words, and, for lack of a better term, he sort of lacks a bedside manner. Needless to say, this carries over into other aspects of his life, including his love life (or lack thereof; Law has little to no experience in this arena). One afternoon, though, the two of you are fighting because you want to accompany Law somewhere and he insists it’s too dangerous despite all of your qualifications and skills as a fighter. You keep pressing and pressing, demanding to know why he won’t let you go when you are perfectly capable, until finally he blurts it out. “I love you! Alright? And I won’t lose you.” You aren’t even in any sort of relationship at that point, the two of you just sort of stewing in unresolved tension. His irate confession is the tipping point, and you become an item after that. When you hear it from him after that, it’s always in private, usually in the late hours of the night when he slips into bed and buries his face in your neck. Other times, it’s when you two pass each other in the hallway aboard the Polar Tang and he catches your hand in his, placing a warm kiss on your knuckles, muttering the words, and moving along quickly for fear someone might see despite the entire crew knowing about your relationship. 
Kid: You say it first. You say it a couple of times, actually, before you ever hear it back. You’re sitting in his workshop watching him build something, and you just sort of blurt the words out. You swear Kid hesitates before picking up the next piece of metal, but he gives no real acknowledgment you uttered those three words. Knowing exactly the sort of man he is and not expecting to receive anything in return, just wanting him to know how you feel in the moment, you aren’t actually offended, but you are wondering if he didn’t hear you. So, the next day in his workshop, you say it again, once more receiving no response. The third time you say it to him, catching him while he’s painting his nails, you receive a grunt in response (Kid is a man of grunts, not a man of words). Only in the heat of battle do you hear it back. He catches you around the waist and picks you up, and you fight thinking it’s an enemy, only for him to say, “I love you,” in your ear before deflecting a canon ball headed straight for the two of you and then setting you on your feet like nothing happened. From that point forward, he’ll say it, but only at inopportune times.  
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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daycourtofficial · 8 months
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Secrets, Secrets Are No Fun
Summary: based on this ask - Cassian has a secret about you and Azriel, and he accidentally lets it slip to you that the two of you are mates.
Pairing: Rhysand’s sister!reader x Azriel
Warnings: none? I don’t think.
“What do you know?”
Cassian drops his container of oatmeal, grumbling as he picks it up. He closes the cabinet to find you impossibly close to him, keeping him in place.
His surprise is all over his face as you roll your eyes and tell him, “you’ve been acting weird lately around me. You know something. Tell me.”
Not a request, but a demand. You might not be high lady, but as Rhysand’s little sister, you have mastered the commanding voice he uses to force others to yield to his demands.
“I don’t know anything,” he mumbles, trying to push past you. You don’t yield to him, keeping him trapped in front of one of the kitchen cabinets.
“You know something,” you simply repeat. “Something about me.”
“Not everything revolves around you, sweetheart.”
You sigh. Cassian wasn’t a great secret keeper if the secret was about himself, but if it was about someone else, he’d protect it with his life.
“Besides, even if I did know something about you, which I don’t,” he says, pushing you out of his way, “I wouldn’t tell you.”
He gets a few steps away from you when you exclaim, “I’ll tell Rhys about what really happened when you destroyed that building in Summer!”
He balks at you, a secret you came to discover on accident because Cassian was projecting his thoughts too loudly for you not to notice. As a daemati, you tried to keep your powers to yourself as much as possible, but some people, Cassian especially, think really loudly sometimes.
“You’re not even supposed to know that! You only do because you’re nosey and have freaky mind powers.”
You scoff, crossing your arms, “I could use my freaky mind powers right now to find out what you know.”
Cassian’s quick to reply, “if you do I’ll tell Rhys and you’ll be in trouble.”
“Tattle-tell.”
“Freaky mind girl.”
You two are staring each other down, neither of you budging when you gently caress Cassian’s mind with your talon in the way you know makes him cringe.
“Fine- fine! You’re Azriel’s mate - leave my mind alone!”
Your face quickly morphs into shock at Cassian’s words. Cassian slaps his hands over his mouth as if he could bring the words back.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yes you did.”
Cassian’s eyes roam around the room, “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Your eyebrows raise at that, crossing your arms. “Then who you were talking to?”
Cassian pauses, then softly says, “myself?”
You narrow your eyes, “you, who are already mated to Nesta, are Azriel’s mate?”
Cassian shrugs, inching closer and closer to the door. “What can I say - the cauldron loves me?”
You give Cassian a pointed look, but continue with the lie. “Is he… is he disappointed that you’re his mate?”
Now that takes Cassian for a loop. He blinks a few times at your insecurity. You, who was just as confident as Cassian was, looking so small in this moment.
“Er- no. He’s not disappointed that I’m his mate.” Cassian steps closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look up at him. “He’s excited, he just doesn’t know how to tell me.”
A smile graces your lips, searching Cassian’s eyes for any hint of a lie.
“Thanks, Cass. I hope you’re excited about it, too.”
Cassian snorts, “Nesta would be ecstatic if someone could take me off her hands every so often.”
Cassian leaves, not after giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a plan begins to take root in your mind.
A few days later, every member of the inner circle is gathered at the table for family dinner. Tonight you’re seated next to Azriel, who hasn’t acted any differently towards you.
Your plan tonight will either confirm or deny Cassian’s words with little consequence if Cassian was wrong.
“Hang on everyone, I have a surprise.”
You leave the table and come back with a white cake. You place the cake on the table, pick up a knife, and start slicing the cake.
“Well, Azriel was out on a mission for his birthday because his boss sucks,” you throw a glance to your brother while sticking your tongue out, “so I made a cake for him so we could celebrate.”
You plate the slice, put a fork on the plate, and pass it to Azriel. The color has drained from his and Cassian’s faces, as they both look at the cake in front of the shadowsinger.
“It’s your favorite,” you say, with a sugary sweet smile. “I know we’re doing something this weekend for his birthday, but I thought I’d make this for tonight.”
You’re distributing other pieces around the table, the others unaware of the meaning behind Azriel and Cassian’s faces.
“I’m not very hungry,” Azriel says, “dinner was quite filling.”
Rhys looks at Azriel as he takes a bite of your cake, “I’ve never known you to decline dessert, especially not her cakes.”
All eyes are on Azriel, his notorious sweet tooth betraying him once again. He looks to Cassian for assistance, who has already finished his plate of cake.
He looks to you, a smirk adorning your features.
Oh. He thinks. You know. He looks again towards Cassian, who is avoiding eye contact with him at all costs.
Fucking traitor.
“Fine, fine.” If you can be stubborn and pigheaded, so can he. He picks up his fork, maintaining eye contact with you as he picks up cake on his fork. You look at him, your eyes piercing his soul. He can feel your emotions through the bond, and all he can feel is excitement.
You want him. You want him to take the bite, you want him to be the one to make things real.
He maintains eye contact as he brings the fork to his mouth, a millimeter from his lips he whispers, “you want this?”
The sight of your cake a second away from his lips, everything you’ve ever felt for Azriel, all leads you to nod your head imperceptibly. He takes the bite, savoring every second of the chocolate flavor.
His favorite flavor.
His stubborn, pigheaded mate did all this to nudge him. His beautiful, headstrong mate, both so much like his brother and so distinctly herself. The scent of the mating bond fills the room, and Rhys starts asking what’s happening, when Azriel lunges for you, wrapping you in his arms as he winnows the two of you away.
Cassian told you about the bond, and now he can tell everyone else about it as you and Azriel spend the next few days in a frenzy of clothes and mouths and love.
“You little minx,” he tells you as you two appear in a secluded cabin. You laugh before taking in your surroundings.
“Where are we?”
It was a quaint cabin, probably two or three bedrooms, and the two of you landed right in it’s living room.
“Well, when the bond snapped for me, I figured the last place you’d want to undergo the frenzy at would be in your brother’s home.”
You smirk at him, “and you just assumed I’d accept it?”
He looks at you, hope in his eyes and in your chest as you feel everything he feels now. “I had hoped. Cassian told me you’d be a fool not to.”
You smile, moving closer to him, “I would have been a fool not to want you.”
He wraps his arms around you, one hand tucking your hair behind your ear. “And I’d be a fool not to try to win your affections. I had a whole plan, you know.”
You gaze up at him, his lips looking incredibly inviting, but you focus on the words coming from them. “What was your plan?”
His thumb swipes across your jaw, “I was going to make you fall in love with me.”
You push your face forward, mere inches from his own, telling him, “I already was.”
His eyebrows raise in surprise, and you laugh. “Not a great spymaster, are you?”
It’s his turn to move forward, your lips a whisper apart. You can feel his breath as he tells you, “I couldn’t bear to know, one way or another, how you felt. So I pretended to love Mor, I knew she’d never return my affections, and I thought I’d be safe from the heartbreak.”
“But one day I woke up, and I decided that that was no way to live. So I dropped the act, and pretty soon afterwards the bond snapped.”
His smile falters for a second, before continuing. “I think - I think I had to feel deserving of you before the bond would snap. Not that I deserve you,” he corrects himself, his thumb trailing over your cheek, “but that I could be. That I could be enough for you.”
Doubt and insecurity swims in your chest, and you lightly tug the bond for the first time. It jolts him from his stupor, his grip on you tightening momentarily.
You look up at him, sending love and adoration down the bond. “Having you as a mate is enough for me. You are enough for me.”
He surges forward, his lips meeting yours. The kiss is warm, inviting, like coming home after a hard day. His hands on you feel right. He presses into you, both of you shoving love down the bond toward each other.
You’d have a nightmare to return home to, everyone already freaking out over Cassian’s news to them all. Their excitement for you two clashing with the absurdity of it all.
But that is for another time. Right now, you are enjoying learning everything about your mate’s body and teaching him about yours.
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