#like him being able to sleep so comfortably no matter where he is as long as alex is there. agh.

[poems-of-a-lover]

world-class insomniac everyone

[brazilian-vampyra]

៹ ☆ MUSIC TO FUCK TO ! ꞌꞋ ࣪

(english)

⟡— synopsis: songs that jujutsu characters would listen to while having sex with you.

⟡— characters: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna and toji fushiguro.

⟡— warnings: raw sex (please use condoms), rough sex, breeding kink, dacryphilia, oral, fingering, male dom, praising kink, hair pulling, degradation kink, alcohol use (only mentioned), size kink, fem!reader.

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𖹭︐

IT IS COMMON SENSE to agree that this man exudes elegance and luxury, in addition to having refined taste — despite his life as a salaryman.

Kento likes to enjoy quality time where he can relax and rest listening to something peaceful, real music for his discerning ears. So he bought a rustic record player in a vintage store that had opened downtown. With that, he could leave the music boxes and headphones aside, enjoying the various vinyls that were on the shelf in his living room.

He loves jazz and blues.

It was a peaceful Friday night, and his apartment was quiet, with the record player playing. You just had a few glasses of wine and enjoyed some cuddling on the black leather sofa. But every time you took a sip of the expensive wine, the contents seemed to go down your throat and straight to your legs.

It seems that your favorite blonde felt the same way, and it didn't take long for the innocent late-night caresses to evolve into heated, intimate touches.

Now you were in the bedroom. Your back was on the comfortable mattress and your hands gripped the silk sheets as your boyfriend held your legs on his shoulders. He held on tight, moving his hips against you. Your clothes were scattered around the house and you were completely surrendered to the heat, feeling it hit your core perfectly.

Nanami's hoarse moans were mixed with the sensual notes of "Sometimes I'm Right" by Hubert Sumlin.

The blonde held your legs, close to the knees, at the end of your thighs, keeping you still so he could be more precise with his hips. His beautiful eyes seemed to look into your soul, intoxicated by the growing desire that made your heart race. The dim orange light from the bedside lamp shone on his athletic body, giving you a perfect view of those muscles.

━━ B-Babe... please... stop torturing me... — you asked in a plea, for him to move his hips faster.

A hoarse, sarcastic soft laugh left his lips.

━━ Oh kitten, you have to stop being so hasty... — he placed a hot, sensual kiss on your ankle. ━━ You know me, you know I like to taste every little part of you...

This was an absolute truth. For him, it didn't matter if the sex was going to be slow and sensual or rough and fast. The most important thing was to be able to enjoy every last second with you in that intimate moment.

At a certain point he moved his hips a little further and then thrust in quickly, all at once. This time you cried out in pleasure.

━━ Always being a good girl, taking my cock so fucking well...

This blonde was madly in love with you.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

WE CAN ALL AGREE that this man is one of the most promiscuous on Earth, right?

The strongest have a very strong sexual aura, and all women — even some men — wondered what it must be like to sleep with Satoru. That was a question you never wondered for long, as he had developed a notable interest in you.

He can make jokes all day long, he can take some situations in a more playful way and all that stuff, but when it comes to sex he is super serious. Although life seems simple for the strongest sorcerer in the world, he gets stressed about a lot of things on a daily basis, and there is no one who can help him relieve all of that as well as you can.

You've already fucked in many places, listening to the most varied artists, but in more intimate moments there is a specific artist that he likes to listen to more than the others: Two Feet.

Maybe it was because of the melodic tone, or the acidic guitar notes, or even his engaging voice, but Gojo loved listening to him.

Now you are in the bathroom, listening to "Love Is a Bitch".

Your back was against the tiled wall, and the ideal temperature hot water ran down your bodies, while your boyfriend held your thighs, getting support so he could thrust his hips slowly. You moaned against each other's parted lips, and he sucked your lower lip shamelessly. The steam from the hot water filled the room, along with your moans and the sounds of this sensual melody.

Although the sex wasn't rough this time, it was slow and deep. He could make your mind go wild by moving his hips like that.

━━ Hell yeah, babe... that feels so fucking good...

He groaned in your ear, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed.

━━ I can't get enough of you- ugh! S-Satoru... please...

Hearing this he bit the sensitive skin on your neck, making you whimper louder. He felt the soft taste of the chamomile soap that he had rubbed over your body with a soft sponge a few minutes ago.

You didn't let this go unpunished and brought a hand to the back of his neck, grabbing the wet white strands, pulling a little, making those piercing blue eyes look into your irises. A mischievous smile was plastered on his lips.

━━ You'll be the death of me someday...

The sorcerer wasn't lying every time he said you were his strongest weakness.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

THIS MAN IS much more reclusive when it comes to his particularities. But you noticed that he was almost always smoking around, while wearing his headphones and having black strands of hair thrown across his face.

Maybe it was hard to tell what he liked to hear, he was so quiet. His voice was soft, he wasn't as "scandalous" as Gojo Satoru, Geto was always a guy who had his own vibe. However, he really liked listening to rock, especially alternative and indie.

You started getting closer when he saw you in the park, it was summer and you were under his favorite tree, reading a book you had gotten from the library and listening to some music on your headphones. He had no problem "sharing" his favorite space with someone else.

There was the beginning of your friendship with that beautiful boy with siren eyes. And it didn't take long for this friendship to evolve into a beautiful relationship — thanks to a little help from Satoru.

It was now a rainy afternoon in the city, not as cold as it seemed. You were lying on his bed, your panties were probably on top of some random pillow and he had his head buried between your legs. Drops of rain wet the window glass and you saw the wind ruffle the leaves of the trees, but you couldn't pay much attention while he was eating you out.

There was something very addictive about your pussy, something that not even he could say what it was, but he was on his knees for it. Literally.

"Knee Socks" by the band Arctic Monkeys was playing.

You were wearing one of Geto's shirts, which had the fabric pulled up, exposing your stomach and breasts. White socks that reached just above your knee covered your legs, which were draped over his shoulders.

━━ Uhmm... this pussy is so fucking delicious, darling — he groaned against your body, while his skillful tongue worked on you.

Suguru's soft lips also moved in sync, making you want to close your legs. You pressed your thighs against his head and you could feel him smile against your sensitive skin. Immediately those big cold ringed hands of his went to the sides of your thighs, squeezing a little and holding them open so he could rub his face there.

━━ S-Suguru! Yes, babe! Yes!

You screamed slyly, taking a hand to his soft, long black hair, squeezing and pulling a little. He really liked that and would never deny it.

━━ Like this?

He asked, in a hushed tone of voice, as you felt him slide two fingers on your wet sex and penetrate, sliding easily, curved slightly upwards to reach a spot that made you scream. He used his mouth again, but this time on your clit as the rhythmic chords of the music played, mixing with your needy moans, his muffled moans and the erotic, wet sounds.

This man is your deepest desire.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𖹭︐

THIS HELL OF A MAN is a walking question mark. He really was a big unknown, but unfortunately — or luckily — for him, you loved solving puzzles.

Toji wasn't the most "difficult" person you had ever met, but he was certainly the most reserved. He didn't talk about the past, about life, he didn't express his feelings, he didn't share personal tastes and there was no way he would spit out the secrets he carried behind his frown. But, despite everything, that wall of muscles could talk about some things that wouldn't expose his particularities so much.

For example, you once brought up a topic about musical taste, a very vague and silly subject, but it was the starting point for you to approach him. Yes, it was much more varied and had much more culture than you expected.

It was perfectly eclectic.

He really liked listening to music when he was fucking too. You were in his room, with the neon light on, not too strong and not too weak, illuminating the room and your features in a shade of blue mixed with purple. The soft bed's sheets were a little wet due to the obscene and intimate acts being performed on top.

You were on all fours, your palms and knees serving as support so you were comfortable. It was playing "Hotel" by Montell Fish.

Toji was right behind you, with that beautiful physique exposed and illuminated by the neon light, that made everything more arousing. He thrust his hips roughly against your ass, and this caused the erotic sound of your bodies to echo throughout the room. His big, strong hands were holding your waist tightly; maybe it would leave some marks.

━━ Now that's a pussy... hmm... so fuckin' tight around my cock, am I too big for your poor little hole to handle, my angel?

He practically growled, followed by a rude laugh, in a bitter tone.

━━ I-I can handle! — you replied, in a desperate tone, lowering your head a little.

Immediately Fushiguro took one hand from your waist and reached for your hair, holding it in a sloppy way. This caused you to whimper and look at the huge mirror there.

━━ No, no. Don't look away... keep watching the way I ruin you!

You would be completely destroyed afterwards, but it would be so worth it, just like it was every time before.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗢 𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗢 𖹭︐

HAVING A SHY BOYFRIEND could be difficult for other people, but it wasn't so much for you. It's okay when you approached him you didn't have much to talk about, since he didn't do "mundane" things like everyone else did.

Curses generally didn't listen to music or watch cartoons and go to parties, as is normal to see human beings doing. He was also very inexperienced in several aspects, because despite having centuries of years, he didn't do much and didn't interact with people in general.

But he had no problem learning from you.

You introduced Choso to music little by little, first you started by showing him what you liked and then you started introducing him to what he might like. This worked out really well, as little by little he began to accept this as something natural and listened to music more frequently.

Kamo discovered that he really likes rock and metal, and is now willing to learn how to play the guitar. Maybe that's a topic for another time, the most important thing is what you were doing at that moment.

The song "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want" was playing, it was originally by The Smiths, but the version that flooded the room was by Deftones. He had put together a playlist full of songs with this theme that walked a fine line between being horny or going into depression.

You were riding him in reverse cowgirl. The elastics that held Choso's hair had come loose a long time ago and now he had his black hair loose, framing his face. He was panting and begging beneath you, his hands on your hips, squeezing your ass a little, watching as you moved it up and down at a slow yet very satisfying pace.

Since he was still a bit inexperienced, he had no problem letting you be in charge most of the time. And you loved having the honor of being on top of that beautiful and arousing man. You could hear the sound of your bodies along with your boyfriend's moans and the whimpers of the Deftones singer, as well as the distorted guitar riffs.

Without any prior warning, you began to move your body faster.

━━ F-Fuck, my love! If you keep this up I'm gonna cum inside of you! — he whimpered as you felt his cock twitch against your walls.

━━ But that's exactly what I want, silly.

You looked back with a wicked smile on your lips, seeing his pale cheeks completely flushed and his strong chest going up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔 𖹭︐

THE GREAT KING OF CURSES was an ambitious man, who desired greatness and power at all times. He did not accept anything that was different from the standard he was used to receiving as a powerful and feared entity.

He was not at all monogamous, he was used to having several women in what would have been a harem. He was insatiable, a ferocious beast who depended on sex as one of his main sources of fuel. However, now Sukuna had to get used to the modern world, whether he wanted to or not.

Curses were no longer respected or feared, as sorcerers were on hand to fight them. By the irony of fate, you ended up crossing paths and since that day there was no concubine to feed his desires, he only wanted you. Despite the countless declarations of love coming from him and all his talk, you weren't easy.

You didn't sleep easily with anyone, even more if this person was him.

But he was a trickster, he wasn't the king of curses for nothing. He approached you with that soft talk and that naughty way until you were finally able to create a bond. But flirting with people in the modern era was a bit tricky for a man who had been away for many, many years.

You introduced music to Sukuna, and over time he became more fond of it. He really liked rock and classical music, they were two different extremes, but who were you to question the taste of the king of curses?

Although when he was fucking you he wouldn't listen to Mozart or anything like that.

You were in his castle, in a room filled with the most diverse and luxurious tapestries. There were extremely comfortable cushions and silk sheets everywhere, as well as treasures, pillars and chests. Sukuna was on top of you, his naked body full of symbols a little sweaty and his gaze devouring you.

Your legs were comfortably crossed around his hips, while those strong hands with purple nails grabbed your wrists and pinned them high above your head, leaving you immobilized. He had a rough pace and really loved every little inch of you, every time.

The song "One Of The Girls" by The Weeknd was playing. That song had a very strong sexual atmosphere, and that made him even more likely to fuck you.

You felt some of his pub hair touching your skin every time he moved back and forth with his hips. He was thrusting deep inside you, making you tear up from so much pleasure you were receiving. That was a the best thing in the world for that sadist who found it adorable to see the salty tears running down your hot cheeks as you begged for relief.

He knew he wasn't hurting you — because if you indicated he would stop instantly. You changed Sukuna a lot, took away from him that kingly immediacy that he possessed, and above all consent was sexy as hell.

━━ Baby... I-I don't know if I can cum any more... — you cried out, because he had already made you cum several times today, you didn’t know if your body could take any more.

━━ Aww, are you so sensitive that you are crying, my princess? — a sadistic smile was on his lips while those red eyes seemed to be darker from the lust flowing through his veins.

━━ Y-Yes...

━━ But you are a very obedient princess, and I know I can make you cum again. You don't need to control yourself and give it to me again. I'm only going to stop when this pussy is squirting all over my cock, understood?

He took one hand off your wrist and brought it to your face, squeezing your cheeks a little and making you nod. With your free hand, you pulled him closer to kiss him intensely, making your tongues touch each other in a bold way.

He had found his other half.

[...]

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄¹: this is my first time posting something in english on tumblr, and as it's not my first language i'd appreciate it if you could correct any grammar mistakes˚. ᵎᵎ

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄²: all of this is created by me, i do not authorize adaptations or inspirations without credits˚. ᵎᵎ

XOXO, kisses that taste like blood o negative, see you next time little bats 💋

— brazilian-vampyra, 2024.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, surprisingly i thinks there isn't any cursing or smut, maybe next time ;) just good old sad aegon

a/n: this is my first time ever writing for HoTD or GoT for that matter. please be kind to me. i tried to use appropriate wording for the time period. i'm somewhat successful but i have work ahead of me to become a pro.

i felt so enraged when alicent walked out on her grieving son to go fuck around with cole. what the fuck is your problem? i always gave her the benefit of the doubt but this episode just proves what a terrible mother she is. i figured the only person fit to comfort my baby boy aegon is someone raised by rhaenyras gentle heart.

lowkey want to make a throuple out of reader, aegon, and helaena. readers gonna be a little psychologist lol. she'd hold their hands and force them to kumbaya haha but obviously they'd be like this cant work without you. maybe they'll follow aegon the conqueror and have her as a second wife but idk would anyone be interested in that? i'm rambling. enjoy!

Helaena’s Turn

STAY WITH US

The cold stone of the Red Keep kept you company as you strode through its halls. The breeze of the night offered you comfort and aided your mind to forget the terrible events that have plagued the Keep.

And yet, despite your energies being depleted, you can't seem to find rest. Loss weighs you down and spirals you into a depth of overbearing thoughts, making sleep a mere idea.

The Red Keep, the place you once called home, has become your prison. For weeks, you were not allowed out of your chambers, and for a short time afterward, a guard followed you wherever you went.

It has all changed, though. The death of the King's son has diverted all of the guard's forces to find the culprit. The priority is to search for the monster that gruesomely and cruelly decapitated a child while he slept rather than to watch over a harmless Princess who is simply not on their side.

As a result, you're now free to roam the castle, granted there are eyes all around. You wouldn't be able to step foot outside the castle if you tried, and any suspicious activity would immediately be reported to the Hand of the King.

For an unknown reason, your feet guide you to the King's chambers, where indiscernible, muffled sounds come from. You look around and find that the guard meant to protect the King is absent. It's worrisome. You stand in the middle of the stone hallway, your hands clasped, as you make a decision.

While your loyalty lies with the Blacks, you cannot stand and watch more of your family be killed, including the Usurper. Daemon has always been 'kind' in mentioning that your gentle heart will cause your death. You'd argue it's an honorable way to go.

You slip through the ajar door quietly, getting closer to the sound. There is destruction across the room. The Old Valyria model your grandfather worked on for most of his life is scattered on the floor, beyond salvation. Goblets and spilled wine, thrown in a fit of rage, decorate the walls.

It is only when a sharp gasp and a shuddering breath echo around the room that you recognize the sounds you heard outside. They are cries.

You release a breath of relief. No one is in danger, although it does not signify someone is not hurting. You peak further into the room and debate on your next course of action. If the mess inside the chambers and the lack of guards mean anything, it's that the King would like to be alone.

But you know Aegon. You grew up with him. He's not one to reach out for help until it's too late. You make a haste decision. Aegon will not grieve alone tonight.

You know what that's like. Your brother, Lucerys, was murdered not too long ago, and you had no choice but to mourn alone. The Hand of the King locked you in your chambers, afraid your temper would lead you to do something drastic. It's the most horrid thing you've ever endured.

How you wished for Rhaenyra, or anyone for that matter, to hold you while you cried. A maid would've sufficed, but no one was allowed entry into your chambers.

Aegon sits by the fireplace, his head hung low, as he cries for his dead son. It might not have looked like it, but Aegon deeply cared for the boy. He wished to be better than his father ever was, and he was succeeding.

Until two days ago.

You've witnessed firsthand the blanket of sorrow that has covered the Red Keep, spent many hours by Haelena's side, offering her your shoulder, and never realized the King would need the same.

Why is Aegon alone? He should not have to go through this by himself. You expected he would have surrounded himself with his men and countless bottles of wine or sought refuge in Helaena's arms since they shared the same grief.

A heartbreaking cry snaps you out of your thoughts—his whole body trembles from loss. Aegon gasps for air to aid his burning lungs, yet he can't control the tears that track down his cheeks and the raking breaths that course through his body and limit his breathing.

He does not know what to make of himself. His fingers shake as he fumbles with the ring on his finger—the one with the dragon crest. Aegon doesn't know what to make of himself. He's never endured this sort of loss.

His sobs are the ones of a man who lost a part of himself. Jaehaerys, his legacy, has gone too soon. Aegon spent time with the boy the morning before his death, doting on him like Viserys never did to him.

He's so lost in his grief that Aegon doesn't hear when you stumble upon a piece of cast from the model. Being careful with your steps, you reach Aegon's side and place a hand on his shoulder.

Alarmed, he turns to face the person who disturbs him, only to find you—you who have been keeping the Hightower siblings together despite belonging to the other side.

"Leave me be," he sniffs, staring back into the fire. He wonders if that's how his son's pyre looked earlier that day.

You kneel on the floor, settling between his legs to cup his cheeks in your palms. Wide, glossy lilac eyes stare back as they fill with more tears.

As his tears fall, you wipe them away. It's enough to make Aegon crumble in your arms, releasing louder cries and questions that will forever remain unanswered.

It's so easy to let go when you know someone is there to catch you.

Aegon fists your dress like a child would to its mother. You rub his back soothingly, holding him as tightly as you're able. You press a kiss to the side of his head, whispering calming words.

Aegon never wanted to be king, yet the moment he tries to fulfill his duty the moment he tries to be a proper king, he is rewarded by his son being brutally taken from him.

It's not a fair world. The Gods have never been kind to him, and he's afraid he'll only ever live a life of torment.

Now, more than ever, he doesn't want to be King. It is a mere reminder of how heavy the crown truly is. It's a shackle meant to keep him in place while others act upon his name while he pays for the consequences.

"Jaehaerys was a bright soul. I am sorry this has happened. You should've never had to experience this pain," you whisper in his ear. No parent should experience the death of their child. It is a sad reality the Targaryens have experienced all too well.

Aegon nods in agreement, and only when he's calm enough to speak does he tear himself away from your embrace. He instantly misses your warmth and the smell of roses in your hair.

"Why are you comforting me when you should be celebrating my demise?" His waterline is stained red, just like the tip of his nose, and he's never looked more innocent than in that moment.

You tilt your head sadly, that same emotion reflected in your eyes. "I do not celebrate the loss of innocents, especially one that has gone too soon. I also do not particularly like the notion of someone I hold dear grieving alone."

"You did," he sniffs. He remembers hearing your cries that night; the whole Red Keep could. You cried and screamed the entire night until you fell asleep from exhaustion and starvation.

Otto prohibited them from coming to you. Haelena tried, but he dismissed the idea with the false notion that you'd hurt her in your grief. Otto confuses you with your parentage. Unlike them, you're kind and gentle and wouldn't dare hurt anyone.

"Which is how I know I would never wish it upon my worst enemy." You brush your fingers through his blonde hair, tucking the messy strands behind his ears.

"Is that what I am to you? An enemy?" He asks, disgruntled.

"No," you answer immediately, your hands coming down to rest upon his chest. His breathing has calmed since you first saw him. "At least, not yet."

His lilac eyes bore into hers in search of the truth; shyly, you hold onto his gaze with nothing to hide except your intentions to help. Sighing, he closes his eyes and bumps his forehead against yours. Aegon will take what he can get. There's seemingly no one else to help him deal with his emotions.

"Stay," he pleads, holding onto the hand that's placed on his chest. This is the most at peace he's felt in a while. He wishes to savor it for a moment longer.

"For as long as you need, my King," you reply, closing your eyes.

"Aegon," he says. He refuses to be reminded of what lies outside his bed chambers. For just a moment, he wishes to simply be Aegon.

"Aegon," you respond, correcting yourself. He squeezes your hand appreciatively, tucking your head on his neck.

He keeps you in his arms until late hours in the night, recounting memories he shared with Jaehaerys. The pain is real and raw, and he won't be well for a long time, but for this night, Aegon will seek solace in your embrace, where he knows he won't be judged or be seen as a burden.

In your arms, he's not Aegon' the Magnanimous.' He's not seen as careless or reckless or the lesser child of Alicent Hightower.

He's Aegon.

helaena’s part has been posted! HELAENA’S TURN

Final part! STAY WITH US

that’s it! it’s sweet and short. i just wanted to have someone comfort aegon like he deserves. during that scene i wished i could jump into t he screen and hug him. it’s all so tragic.

i wish i could do the same with haelena. my girl needs to be coddled. fuck alicent. fuck otto. most importantly fuck criston cole.

if you enjoyed this one shot please don’t forget to like or comment and if you want more of it feel free to let me know! i don’t bite (unless you want me to)!

[obsesssedblerd]

Part Four (2): “I promise, I’ll make this right.” 

- the jjk men promising to be a better partner for you after they forget your anniversary. 

final [second] written part of this smau series. 

Pt. 2: Choso, Shiu, and Gojo

Contains: angst to comfort 

a/n: and here’s the last, last part with the remaining characters! again, thank you so much for being so patient! <3 once again, sorry for any mistakes! 

---

CHOSO 

Truthfully, you didn’t know if you were actually ready to confront Choso, but you know that it’s time. You stand in front of the door to his house, and knock. You wait for less than a minute, then the door opens to reveal Yuuji on the other side, rubbing his tired eyes. His pink hair was messy, so you know that he woke up from a nap not too long ago. 

When he registers that it’s you, he gasps loudly, then holds up a hand and smiles nervously. “H-Hi! Um, wait just a minute, I’ll grab him! Please don’t leave this spot.” 

“I won’t leave, Yuuji.” 

His smile falters a bit. “No, seriously, please don’t. Me, Cho, and Megumi couldn’t find you for days.”

You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I promise,” you say slowly, “I won’t leave.” 

“Good. Be right back.” He gives you a thumbs up, closes the door, and you hear him scream from behind it, “Choso!! CHOSO!!! She’s outside, so stop blasting your sad music and get down these damn stairs!! No, I’m not kidding, why would I do that?!” 

You blink in shock, then Yuuji opens the door once more to smile sweetly at you. “He’ll be out in just a moment.” 

“Uh- Alright, thanks.” 

Not too long after, Choso appears. You can immediately tell that he hasn’t been sleeping much the last few days. Other than that, he looks relieved to see you there. He reaches towards you to hug you, then stops himself, remembering the situation. “Hi,” he quietly greets. 

“Hi. Walk with me?” He nods, and you two walk side-by-side to a nearby park. You let the silence drag for only a few minutes before you ask him the question that’s been weighing on you for the last couple of days. 

“Be honest. Before we got together, did you want to date Yuki at one point?” 

Are you only with me because you weren’t able to get with her? 

Choso stops in his tracks, and looks over at you, eyes blown wide with shock. “No. Never. We’re just friends, like I’ve told you before. I know it seems like-” 

You hold up a hand. “Cho, please just understand where I’m coming from. The-” 

“I do understand,” he says desperately, taking a step closer to you. “Of course I do. That's all I’ve been thinking about. I chose to hang out with her instead of you, numerous times. It’s unfair to you, I know, but I swear-”

“I feel like you love her.” Your biggest fear of your relationship flies out your mouth, and tears rush to your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. “Every single time, it’s her. It feels like it won’t matter how special something is—like our anniversary—because you’ll run to her the second she asks you to hang out and completely forget about me.” You take a breath and exhale slowly, trying not to make yourself look even more pathetic. “I’m tired, Cho.” 

“Listen to me. I do not love Yuki,” Choso says slowly. “Not now, not in secret, not ever. I am in love with you. You’re the one I want to wake up next to every morning, you’re the only one I trust when it comes to helping my siblings, and you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He scoops your hand into his. “There’s no way in hell that I would choose her or any other woman over you, so I’m begging you, please get that out of your head.”

Before you can use a sleeve to wipe your tears, he wipes them for you, then uses his hand to cup your cheek. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. You spent so long planning the dinner for our anniversary and I completely forgot about it like it was nothing. I wish I could go back in time, but I can’t. All I can do is beg for another chance to be a better boyfriend. So, please, let me have another chance.”

You notice that his eyes are also watery. You’re about to point it out, but he hugs you tightly before you can, his body slightly trembling. “These last few days have been killing me, because I’ve messed up so bad to the point where you think I’m in love with another woman, when you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my  life. I don’t want anyone but you. I could never choose anyone over you. I don’t care who they are.” 

He rubs a comforting hand up and down your back. “Please,” he repeats once more. 

“Never again, Choso,” you mutter shakily. “I mean it.” 

He sighs in relief, then kisses you. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Walk back with me? I have your present back at the house. Then, we can plan another dinner, and something special after that.” 

---

SHIU

When you enter the hotel room, you see Shiu Kong there, leaning in the chair with a light, but nervous smile. “Hey, princess.” 

The door shuts, and you furrow your brows in confusion. “How the fuck did you get in here?” 

“Well, you weren’t answering your phone anymore, so I found a different way to track you.”

Your brain whirrs with multiple possible scenarios, then you roll your eyes when you figure it out. “You asked Toji, didn’t you?” Your work partner was the only one who knew your location.

“I had to blackmail him in order to find out where you were. It wasn’t easy.” 

You give him a fake smile. “Well, I don’t really care about that. You should leave.” 

“No.” 

“Shiu. Don’t piss me off,” you warn. “Go.”

“Not until we talk.” 

You cross your arms. “It’s either you leave, or I will handle you the same way I’d handle any person that comes into my room without my knowledge or permission.”

Shiu holds his hands up. “I’ll let you shoot me after I apologize.” 

“You’ve already apologized plenty over text. I already told you that I’m done. I’m better off focusing on work, and you’re better off just hanging out with your friends.” 

“Can you stop saying that shit? Baby, please, I swear that missing our anniversary dinner was a horrible mistake, and I’ll never make it again if you give me another chance.” When you don’t answer, he sighs desperately, taking a chance with his life and walking over to where you’re standing. “I’m sorry, princess. I completely understand why you’re pissed, and like I said, I’d let you shoot me if it’ll make you feel better. However, I will say that I can’t let you go. I love you.” 

You shut your eyes and shake your head. “Look, that’s sweet and all, but I don’t think you understand how awful it is knowing that your boyfriend chose a random night of drinking with his friends over a romantic dinner that you spent weeks planning. It makes it hard to believe that you even like me, let alone love me.” 

“I understand why you’re doubting my feelings for you. Anyone would after their lover forgets their anniversary. But I promise, I do love you, and if you give me another chance, I’ll show you. I’ll make you feel it. Please give me a chance to fix this.” 

“...But what if you don’t?” 

“Then I’ll let you kill me, like you’ve killed your other boyfriend after he fucked up and broke your heart.” When you raise your brow in question, he answers you, “Toji told me about that when he warned me to leave you alone earlier. Not taking his side at all. Heard he was an asshole, anyway. But, I’m serious. If I don’t do better, and I hurt you again, I won’t run or fight back when you come to kill me.” 

“Shiu, I don’t want to kill you,” you say, slightly frustrated. “I just want you to care more.” 

His thumb brushes underneath your eyes. You didn’t even know that you started crying. “I know, princess, ‘m so sorry. I promise, I’ll never make you cry again, and I’ll be better.” He’s relieved when you allow him to hug you. “Come home, okay? We’ll talk more there, and then I’ll start making this up to you.”

You nod, then rest your head on his shoulder. “You do know that Toji’s more than likely going to kick your ass for blackmailing him, right?” 

“You’re in my arms again, so it was worth it.”

---

GOJO

You’re speeding through the hallways of Jujutsu Tech, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. An hour ago, you got a text from Maki, your precious second-year student, telling you that something bad happened and that you need to come to the school quickly. 

“Maki, I’m here! Are you okay?!” You shout as you burst into the empty classroom. You find her, and you tilt your head in confusion. 

She looks fine. In fact, she’s standing next to a Yuuta Okkotsu, who looks like he’s about to vomit. “S-Sensei! I-” 

Maki cuts him off with her usual, sharp glare. “Not. A. Word.”

Inumaki and Panda are also there, and across the room, the three first years are standing stiffly. 

Something’s up. 

“Okay,” you say to the students as you cross your arms. “What on earth is going on?” 

Nobara looks over at Yuuji, who’s sweating nervously, and raises a brow. “Um… Haha,” he laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Don’t look at me like that, Kugisaki. H-He should be here any second, I swear!” 

He? 

Suddenly, Satoru Gojo teleports in. “What’s going on?” He asks as he looks over at the students. “I didn’t see a threat outside of the school. Yuuji said something bad happened?” 

“Great!” Nobara claps her hands together. “You’re both here!” 

Satoru goes quiet, and you raise an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah?” 

Maki points to you and Satoru. “You two need to talk.” 

“...Sorry?” 

“You two need to talk!” Nobara repeats Maki’s words. “Listen, we can’t stand having our two favorite teachers separated like this. [Y/L/N]-sensei has been gone for days!” 

“Plus, Gojo-sensei, you’ve been super stressed!” Yuuji shouts in defense. “Fushiguro says that you eat a lot more sweets when you’re stressed. You ate two packs of those mini cupcakes, plus the brownie that Nanamin gave me!” 

When Satoru looks over at Yuuta, he throws his hands up. “No, no, please don’t look at me like that! I voted against this! I said that w-we should probably give you two some space to figure it-” Inumaki slaps a hand over his mouth. 

“We’re just… worried,” Megumi mumbles. 

“Yup!” Panda shouts. “Very worried, and that’s why we came up with a plan to get you two back on track. We’re going to lock you two in this room, and you’re not coming out until you’re happy and in love again!” 

“Because you two are supposed to be together forever and get married and invite us to the wedding!” Yuuji pouts, and the rest of the students voice their agreements. 

You can’t believe it. They set you up. Your mouth falls open in shock, and the students all walk outside of the classroom. Maki and Nobara are the last ones out, and they both glare at Satoru. “Geto-sensei said that you missed your anniversary dinner,” Nobara hisses. “You better give her the most amazing, romantic and extravagant dinner after this, or we will deal with you!” 

Behind Nobara, Yuuta chuckles nervously. “...Pretty sure that you won’t be able to get past his infinity-” 

“Shut up, Okkotsu!” The rest of the students shout, then the door shuts and locks with a loud click. You drag a hand down your face, then scoff. Great.

“Wow, they’re really something,” Satoru chuckles, but when you don’t say anything, he turns to face you, his expression serious, even with his usual blindfold on. “Say the word, and I’ll teleport you out of here. Then, I’ll talk to them.” 

“No, it’s okay,” you say quietly as you sit in one of the empty chairs. “We can talk.” 

As you look around the classroom, a few memories from the year before came back. “Wait, this is the classroom where we met, isn’t it?” 

“Looks like it,” Satoru says as he leans against the wall, smiling softly. “Zen’in, Panda, Inumaki, and Okkotsu were first years. You were standing right here. Your first day as a transfer, and you were already teaching these kids as professionals.” 

“Yeah.” You stifle a laugh. “You stayed for the entire lesson, even though you had a meeting with the higher-ups. Suguru and Yaga had to practically drag you out of here so you wouldn’t spend another hour flirting.” 

“They were pissed, but it was worth it. Our newest team member is just so pretty,” he says, then reaches for your hand, your thumb lovingly brushing against yours as his voice dips lower. “The most beautiful woman that my six eyes have ever seen.” 

It’s a nice memory, but when you remember everything else, your smile falters. Satoru sighs, “I’m so sorry, pretty girl. Not just forgetting the annivesary dinner that you planned, but also for leaving you hanging. I don’t blame you for disappearing for a few days. If I were in your shoes, I would’ve been upset, too. I really don’t have an excuse. That was just… wrong.” 

“I appreciate that, Toru, but… are you sure that this even works? All of the chasing, the begging to spend just a few hours together, it’s draining. I know you’re the strongest sorcerer-” 

“You matter more than that,” he says firmly. “So much more than that. If it came down to choosing between you or being the strongest, I’m choosing you in an instant. I meant it when I said that I’d let Toji Fushiguro kill me again before letting you go.” You wince when you remember the gruesome details of that story, but don’t interrupt. “I made a horrible mistake by forgetting that date. I can’t imagine how awful it was sitting at the restaurant all alone. I’m so sorry. I don’t care how long it’ll take to make this up, I’ll prove that you mean the world to me.” 

You consider his words. While you’re still a bit hurt about being forgotten, you miss your boyfriend, and you do believe that he’ll make it up to you, despite you being a bit hesitant. “One more chance, Satoru,” you tell him. “Don’t ever do this to me again.” 

“I won’t. I promise,” he says, lifting his blindfold to reveal the gorgeous, cerulean eyes that you love so much. “You won’t regret this.” When you reach for him, he lowers his infinity fully to let you hug him, a long exhale leaving your body when you’re suddenly wrapped in his arms and his scent. “I missed you,” he whispers to you. “I was so worried. I couldn’t find you.”

“Didn’t mean to worry you.” 

He kisses your cheek, then pulls away from you. “Okay, time to go.” 

“Go where?” 

Satoru chuckles. “I owe you an amazing, romantic, and extravagant dinner, otherwise my students will find a way to kill me. Plus, we’re going to be disappearing for a while. I got a trip planned. Flight leaves early in the morning.”

You gasp. “What?! But what about work? Or the students? Or the-” 

He interrupts you with a feather-light kiss against your lips. “All taken care of, pretty girl,” he purrs. “Just let me make this up to you, okay?” 

“Alright, but first you need to apologize to the students for wreaking havoc while you were stressed, and buy Yuuji a new brownie.” 

[mossyvil]

how they like to cuddle

includes all characters except ortho bc idk how to write for him. writing this on mobile so excuse any formatting issues

riddle- he isn’t a huge cuddler, so you guys usually are just next to each other. but sometimes if you’re lucky you’ll wake up in the middle of the night and he is clinging on to you for dear life. he isn’t aware he does this tho so don’t mention it or he’ll be embarrassed

trey- he likes to have your head on his chest, holding your hand and maybe your legs interlocked. he also plays with your hair and it feels HEAVENLY. he also subconsciously runs his hands down your back as he falls asleep.

cater- he is just all over you lmfao. on your chest, you on his, spooning, he doesn’t care. it changes like 5 times a night too bc he can’t pick a position and stay in it but all his limbs must be touching you or he is not happy >:(

ace- just a classic big spoon guy. he enjoys cuddling but not to a huge extent to being a big spoon is the right amount or contact for him. but he is a hypocrite and will not let you get up once you’re in bed lol

deuce- acts like a big spoon but it’s obvious he likes being held, he just wants to be your protector. once you coax him a little though he’s much more comfortable being the little spoon and feels very safe in your arms

more utc!

leona- uses you as his own personal body pillow. every part of him is wrapped around you, including his tail. he claims he can’t sleep well without you so he drags you to cuddle with him when he takes naps lol. only puts his head on you, not his pillow

ruggie- he has no preference. he can appreciate all of the cuddling positions and likes to switch it up each night. and yes, he does like having his head pet. so any position where you can give him head rubs is fine with him

jack- he likes having you fully on top of him. no matter your size he likes the feeling of you on him, it’s like a weighted blanket. he’s also a little afraid of hurting you with his strength so this is a win-win for him

azul- hes a little spoon. it takes a while for him to even be comfortable cuddling in the first place, and once that happens he’s actually very open with saying that he prefers to be held. it makes him feel safe, like his octopot.

jade- big spoon all the way. he doesn’t have a real reason why he likes it so much but he won’t cuddle unless he can be the big spoon. just be careful, once you’re in his arms his teasing mood kicks in

floyd- it changes every night lol. he isn’t a big fan of being the little spoon, but other than that he just goes with what you prefer. he does like to squeeze you when he can, but he tries to be gentle

kalim- little spoon! he feels very content in your arms and it helps him relax after a long day. he also likes to hold your hands in front of him. give him soft kisses behind his ear and youll get to hear his giggles bc he’s ticklish

jamil- he’s also not huge on cuddling but he can’t sleep without you in the bed. at most he wants to hold hands but even that depends on the day. he’s like a cat, he wants to be near you but not touch unless it’s on his terms.

vil- DOES like to cuddle but makes sure not to mess up his hair. usually lays on his back and pulls you into his side so he isn’t gonna ruin all his meticulous work on his skin and hair. he isn’t too upset if it does happen, but would like to avoid it

rook- has no preference, just likes to touch you lol. if he had to choose he would want you to have your head on his chest, but as long as he gets to have his affection he’s happy. he doesn’t move a lot in his sleep, but does subconsciously pull you closer to him

epel- big spoon most of the time but sometimes is the little spoon. he’s surprisingly willing to admit he likes both, but he usually goes to being the big spoon. he likes being able to hug you, you’re like a soft plushy to him

idia- likes to sleep facing you and holding hands with legs intertwined but not fully cuddling. it took him a while to even be this affectionate with cuddling, but he’s getting there. he also likes that he can look at you when your eyes are closed lol

malleus- you on top of him with your head tucked under his. he wants you as close as possible and wraps your legs around each others so you’re even closer. he runs kind of warm so it’s really nice in the winter when the dorms are cold

lilia- he likes to lay on top of you with his head in your chest lol. it doesn’t matter if you have boobs or not, he likes your chest. he says it makes a good pillow for an old fae to rest his head on

silver- very respectful of your space and likes to be the big spoon. he lets you initiate any cuddling because he wants to make sure you’re okay with it first. he’s just happy to be next to you

sebek- he sleeps like a starfish LMFAO. all limbs are in each direction. theoretically you could cuddle like that but it’s not very comfortable 😭 he does at least try to go to sleep cuddling you if you want, but he moves a lot in his sleep so it doesn’t last that long

[brazilsho]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ kenji sato x gn ! reader

summary ; little scenario on how's like to wake up besides your infamous boyfriend !

context ; just fluff , kenji being a little whiny and clingy , during the time kenji takes care of emi , reverse comfort mentions . no proofread . bad writing (tired asf) .

the morning Sun breezed through the streets, awaking the city of Japan with a warm embrace of warmth as the people around started to waken up to do their daily duty and day.

near the island way back from the city of Japan, the nice large house was shining bright through the reflection of the sun, a loud chirp could be heard from the basement of the house,

the giant kaiju baby, emi, awaking from her slumber, snuggled up against the car, her father given her, she tiredly looked through the room only to be met by the owners AI, Mina, who was responsible for watching over the kaiju.

“good morning little emi, have you slept well?” Mina asked gently the baby, in return getting a happy chirp from emi after recognizing the robot, Mina decided to turn on some music that emi likes and gave her her breakfast, wanting to make sure that the owners of the house can be able to wake up peacefully after a long while.

As a matter of fact, Mina started to sense the sunlight become stronger through the ocean water that was around the basement and knew that a certain male upstairs would be awaken because of it.

the certain male, kenji, was laying in bed, the sunlight shining through the curtains of the rooms making the light shine right into his mesmerizing face, but his eyes meeting the sunlight frustrated his well needed slumber.

Kenji squirmed around with a little whine, squinting his eyes closed to avoid the light in his eyes, turning around to face you so that his back where facing the curtains and him burring his face in the crook of your neck.

You, of course, didn't had a problem with the sunlight, kenji's boarded back covered the entire view in front of you and it also didn't surprised you when you felt him clinging onto you in your light sleepy state.

the warmth of kenji's pleasant made you snuggle against him a little, placing your head against his chest while your eyes started to open carefully, still being a little sensitive with the bright sunlight that appears in the room.

the same goes to kenji, he could feel you leaning against him closely, making him wrap his arms around you and carefully open his eyes to look down at you, only to be meet with you already looking through your lashes at him,

his eyes sparkling with the sunlight reflecting them, showing off every detail in his eyes, making him look even more beautiful in your eyes, a smile formed at the corner of his lips as he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently.

“Good morning my darling” Kenji said, his sleeping voice appearing and a honest soft looking smile became more visible on him, making you almost melt at the sight as a smothered look was shown in your face.

“Morning, able to got some hours of sleep?” You jokingly asked him, remembering how much of sleep he’s slacking because of emi. Kenji frowned a little which a whine as he tighten his hold on you as he threw his head back against the soft fabric of his pillow.

You let out a snicker and hugged kenji a little, only as much as possible, “Don't worry, I think emi is starting to get the scheduled of sleep, you've done enough for these couple of weeks for her.” You said, running your fingers across the soft skin of kenji’s chest in daydream.

Just as Kenji was about to be smuggled though, wanting to say that he wasn’t the only one but appreciated the words you given him, a loud cry was heard from the basement where emi still is, it seemed like that emi was getting bored of the music and wanted to see her parents.

All kenji could do was groan and turn around his head to burry it into his pillow as he lets out a scream in frustration, he loves emi yes, but he definitely is tired, especially from even the fact that he's not even close on being used to hearing a baby cry every minute it can get.

You though, didn't seem to have much problem with the giant baby, it felt like second nature to you but you yourself where a little frustrated to say the least, it's been a good while since you had some quality time with kenji,

not being able to get any time to just be in his company, it pained your delusional heart — and his too.

“I'll go to her, wake up whenever you want” You said, removing yourself from kenji's grasp which tighten the moment you said these words, him giving off a whine in desperate need of your company,

but you tapped his chest, asking to be removed from his warmth hold and with a little hesitation he allowed you to go, which you took as an opportunity to get out of his warmth, giving him a kiss on the lips which he definitely returned, before standing up and going to the elevator to the basement to calm down your girl.

Kenji just watched you, looking at you like you are the most precious piece of art in the world for him, he sat up and stretched before making his way to start off his day, thankful to have you with him.

© brazilsho ─ 2024. works i post are not allowed to be translated, stolen, copied, or reposted on other platforms.

[fastandcarlos]

Kisses For You : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: 2.6k of the fluffiest early morning with lando

A faint groan escaped from you as a change in colour disturbed your sheet. Lando couldn’t help but chuckle as the shutter then went down.

“You’re an idiot, you mumbled, pulling the duvet up tighter around your body, hoping somehow that the morning hadn’t arrived just yet.

“Yeah…but I’m your idiot,” Lando couldn’t help but tease, a quiet snigger coming from him as you pushed further into the pillow. “You looked too cute.”

Lando continued to hold his phone tight in his hand as he studied your features quietly. Your eyes were still shut, but the corners of your mouth had turned up, no matter how annoyed you wanted to be at Lando for disturbing your sleep, you could never truly stay made at him for long. His hand comes up, brushing through your hair, tucking the loose strands behind your ear.

“I love seeing you when you’re like this.”

“Like what?” You asked in confusion, shuffling your frame closer to where Lando laid, hissing slightly at the change in temperature across your bed. Your spot was toasty, but now you found yourself laying in the cold. Lando reacts straight away, placing his hand against your waist to try and squeeze you just a couple of centimetres closer towards where he was.

“So sleepy.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, Lando presses his first kiss of the day to the top of your head, feeling his heart quicken slightly.

You could only chuckle, “yep, you’re still an idiot.”

Lando knew you never meant it as you tucked your head into his chest, you loved to tease him and try and wind him up. He was happy though, he didn’t care what you were doing, it was just nice for him to be home. He loved being able to wake up with all of his comforts around him, but most of all he loved waking up knowing that his best friend was right beside him. Those moments were the ones he loved to capture, the ones when you were at your most comfortable, a side to you that no one else in the world got to see, because no one else made you feel like Lando did.

That was the moment when Lando was reminded of your previous night, the passion and relief mixed perfectly together as the two of you reunited.

Your touch was always what Lando craved the most whenever the two of you were apart. The feeling of your fingertips desperately digging into his arm, fearful that he would go again, or how you called out his name and threw your head back, giving him the satisfaction that he was the reason you felt so good. Lando struggled to believe sometimes that the two of you still had so much lust and attraction after so many years, but the feeling of making you feel as if you were the top of the world was something that he would never tire of. Where you found yourselves was an entirely different moment from last night, but that didn’t stop you still sending Lando’s mind into overdrive. If he was honest, his mind was always filled with thoughts of you, those moments he captured in his memory, the ones he treasured forever.

He was lost in his own little world at that point, entirely unaware of the trail of kisses that you had left across his collarbone, still smelling the effects of last night as your nose tickled his bare skin.

Lando was hungrier than ever last night.

Soon enough Lando rejoins you in the room, letting you know as he reciprocates your kisses, pressing several to your forehead, poking his finger gently against the side of your arm.

It was lazy. It was comfortable. It was everything that the two of you enjoyed together.

“You’re so beautiful,” Lando whispered against the top of your head, “how did I ever get so lucky?” He then asks, following up with yet another kiss.

“It’s too early for you to be this cheesy,” you laughed, relaxing your hand over the top of his heart.

“It’s true,” Lando argued in reply, “you’re funny, smart, caring, trusting, selfless, considerate, and pretty damn good in bed, I could go on and on,” he added, breaking each word with a kiss, hearing you laugh at his last words. His voice was sincere, Lando was incredibly fond of you and over the years he had made sure to be more and more vocal about the effect that you had on him.

As much as you want to tease him, you can’t. A shiver runs down your spine, knowing full well that your cheeks were a dark crimson once Lando had finished talking. You felt like you were floating on a cloud, if Lando wasn’t there holding onto you, you were sure that you would roll off the bed in a fit of giggles and excitement. He somehow had the control, knowing you weren’t particularly happy about being woken up, he’d soon turned things around and wrapped you around his finger again.

At last, Lando watched as you opened up your eyes, eyelids fluttering at the bright light. “You’re the best.”

Your hand on his chest pushed gently against him, the exhaustion in your expression was clear to Lando as you moved lazily opposite him.

“You’re just the best human ever.”

“I don’t think many would agree,” you laughed, “but luckily for me, your opinion means the most.”

“And yours does to me.” Lando responded.

“Really? I wasn’t expecting that,” you admitted, with how many people Lando had to impress day to day, you always thought you were low on that list, you were powerless compared to some.

“It’s always you.”

And that was the moment where Lando crumbled.

He suddenly found himself unable to speak, barely able to look at you as his sudden confession turned him into a weak mess beside you too.

Deep down your opinion meant the world to him, he always wanted to do right by you and know that you always had a smile on your face.

“I love you,” he spoke, so quiet you could barely hear him as he pressed a kiss again to the top of your head to be able to hide his own embarrassment. “I love everything about you.”

“I know,” you replied, your voice quiet too, “you told me that plenty of times last night you know.”

“And I meant it too.”

Every single last word spoken, Lando had meant.

“I’ll always mean it, I never will quite understood how I managed to find someone like you.”

A comfortable silence descended upon the two of you, your hand tracing on Lando and his arm shaking around your waist managed to do all the talking for you both.

“I mean I always knew that true love existed, but I never imagined that love would feel this good, it still overwhelms me, still leaves me wanting more of you every second of every day.”

A shaky breath escapes from Lando as he gives himself a moment to find his composure again, knowing you’re holding onto his every word.

“I wish I knew your secrets, try to understand why you make me feel this way. All I ever want to do is protect you, make you feel as loved as you deserve to be.” Your head tilted back as Lando spoke, moving your hand up to cup the side of his face, feeling him press a kiss to your fingertips. “Everything about you just drives me crazy.”

You couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing from Lando, although he had a tendency to be sentimental with you, this morning someone had opened up the floodgates.

It always seemed to be the way, once the two of you came down from your high the previous night, Lando would fill you back up with loving reminders again.

“You know there are no secrets to share, I’m just me…just happy…with you,” you whispered, brushing the pad of your thumb against his cheek.

For the first time in a while, Lando met your eyes. His heart swelled as the wide smile on your face suddenly took his breath away.

“How do you always manage to find the right thing to say?” Lando enquired, shaking his head at you.

“Surprisingly sweet for someone broken from their sleep a few minutes ago, right?” You joked.

You wished there was more to it, but being honest, you often found yourself pondering the same thing.

“You can get some more sleep if you want, I don’t mind.”

Lando took a hold of your hand and tried to tuck it back into the duvet so that you could snuggle back down to sleep again, but you were having none of it. You were wide awake now, admiring the view that had finally returned before you after so long being there all alone.

“Do you think you’ll ever stop?” You then asked as Lando took your hand and pressed several kisses to the back of it. “You’re not out of kisses?”

His head shook proudly, “for you? There’s no such thing I’m afraid.”

As much as he wanted to mess with you, Lando admittedly was quite concerned by your lack of sleep, the two of you had barely slept the night before, too busy reminding one another of what you had missed out on.

“I bet you can’t keep on doing this forever Lan.”

“Is that a challenge for me?” He pushed, attacking your cheek with several feather-like kisses. “Because I can guarantee you that I’ll never tire of kissing you y/n.”

Your eyebrows raised as Lando seemed to throw down the gauntlet, not that you ever doubted him.

“Sorry? I can’t quite hear an answer from you babe.”

“Shut up will you,” you smiled innocently, “I love you.”

Those three words were still special to Lando, and as he heard them for the first time that day, his body froze in delight.

As his smile grew, you reached behind you and picked up your own phone from your bedside table, opening up the camera. You leant back slightly so that Lando was in full view of your shot, snapping the moment his smile was at his widest, knowing that photo would come in handy next time he went away. As the shutter went down, Lando came forwards, tickling against your waist.

“That’s not fair,” he laughed, a wave of euphoria running down his spine as he heard your laughter echo around the room.

Lando carried on for a few moments, knowing to stop as soon as heard you calling out his name, struggling to catch your breath.

The smirk on his face made you want to hit against him, curse him for being so cocky when it came to his ability to tease you. But you couldn’t. Because deep down you loved it. You loved when he pushed your buttons and tried to tip you over the edge.

His proud smile was impossible though.

You hated him for it.

You hated how well he knew you.

How much he loved to love you.

But opposite you, you knew that Lando felt the exact same way.

“Aren’t you the cutest!”

“Go away,” you scoffed as Lando clasped his arms around your frame to pull you back into him.

His head shook in response to your request.

“You don’t want me to leave,” he argued.

Could you respond? No. Was Lando correct? Absolutely. You wanted him to stay more than anything and never leave you again. You wanted him as he was right now, playing with your hair and showering you with all kinds of affection, the affection that you missed and craved so badly when he was off and racing around the world. Feeling the warmth of his frame beside you felt like home, the safe space you were desperate for.

Your brief moment was broken by Lando capturing your lips, telling by your eyes you were losing yourself pretty deep.

“I love being yours.”

It felt like you found yourself in one of those cheesy romcoms, the type that you watched when you were a child and dreamt of one day hopefully having a relationship like it. Although now, it was your reality. Everything that you’d dreamed of as a child was now coming true, and that was all thanks to Lando. Thanks to the man who stared at you with such adoration you felt weak at the knees.

“I’m sure there are many people around the world who would disagree with that,” you chimed.

Lando pouted in response to your words, “they’re all liars, the only person in the world that I want to be with…is you.”

Your hand returned to the side of his face, “I bet none of them miss you like I do.”

“And I bet that however much you missed me, I missed you so much more,” he couldn’t help but tease, ignoring the shakes of your head as you tried to argue against him.

You want to speak, but Lando shuts you, pressing a kiss to your parted lips before anything escapes.

“You’re impossible,” you whisper against his lips as Lando pulls away ever so slightly. “How am I ever supposed to win against you when this is how you treat me?”

Lando shrugged, he didn’t want you to win, not when him winning resulted in peppering kisses all over your body and face.

“I love you,” he found himself announcing again.

Some could be forgiven for being intimidated by the closeness of Lando, but you knew him better, you knew how much he needed you close by.

“I know, and I love you too,” you reminded him, not that Lando ever doubted you for a second.

“Everything about you is perfect,” Lando spoke, coming back at you, trailing his finger tips alongside either side of your body, feeling the goosebumps against your skin.

“Lando, stop.”

He pondered for a moment, but eventually Lando did as you asked. “Stop what?” He asked, opting for the innocent choice.

“We can’t do this again.”

As much as you wanted to push Lando away, still feeling the effects from last night, he was like an irresistible force beside you who you could never avoid for long.

He had known you long enough to know exactly how to get you where he wants you for his own satisfaction, and mostly, how to get exactly what he wants from you too.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you told him, reading Lando like a book. “I promise, later, I just can’t right now.”

“I get it,” Lando assured you, never wanting to push you to anything. “We can do kisses now, and maybe other things can wait until later.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, “I don’t mean to disappoint or anything.”

You were doing anything but, if Lando was anything, he was understanding, he knew where the line was and never overstepped it.

“You could never do such a thing y/n.”

Lando gave you a moment to settle again, smiling widely as you chose to settle against his chest, draping your arm across his frame as his wrapped around your own.

“Y/n,” Lando whispered as you both found yourselves staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah Lan?”

“Let’s stay here today, right in this spot.”

“You mean all day?”

“Yeah,” Lando cheered, keen to savour as much of the time he had with you as possible. “This is where I want to be with you.”

“Let’s do it,” you chimed, much to Lando’s delight. “A lazy day in bed with you sounds like a dream right now.”

Lando squeezes you tighter against his chest.

“Don’t forget all those kisses too.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[bunnis-monsters]

hi can you do a jealous monsterxreader? hehehehe where the monster becomes jealous of the reader's friend.

NSFW

warning: somnophilia, dubcon, oral(f!receiving), breeding, slight yandere behavior

If he hadn’t of seen it with his own four eyes, the monster living under your bed might not have believed it.

There was a male in your room, laughing with you, touching you… being way too familiar with you for his liking.

You had been living in the home for a few years now, and he had come to see you as a sort of mate. So it was almost disrespectful that you brought another… male into your nest.

Although the male did not try and mate with you, the monster still stared at it with utter hatred. If your friend didn’t leave soon, he would not be able to hide his presence any longer, because he would slaughter him.

Thankfully, your friend got a call from his roommate asking to be let in, so he left. A soft purr emanated from his chest as he watched the man leave.

Now it was just you and him, like it was supposed to be. Other people being in the picture only made things complicated. When it was just you, scrolling through your phone and trying to get off all on your own, he could relax, his cock hardening at the scent of your arousal.

His poor mate always had trouble making herself cum, so he climbed into your bed once you went to sleep unsatisfied.

He rubbed his face against your neck, making sure his scent covered you before pushing your wet panties to the side.

Soft, long licks to your cunt had you squirming in your sleep, whining bit. His long, tentacle like tongue could reach the parts of you that you couldn’t, making you cum easily.

Usually, he’s just help you get off before stroking his cock over your pussy and cumming all over your clit before putting your panties back on… but tonight he was feeling possessive, snarling slightly as he inhaled the male’s scent still lingering in the air.

“Mine…” he murmured as held onto your hips, positioning his thick cock at your entrance, rubbing against it. “Gotta claim you… shh…”

He shoved his tongue into your mouth, exploring it thoroughly before pulling away to smile down at your sleeping form.

Being the monster under your bed, he had a sleeping agent in his spit. You wouldn’t wake up now, no matter how hard he fucked you.

He impaled you with his cock, a purr rumbling in his chest as he comforted you with sweet, loving kisses to your neck and chest. You were his mate, he didn’t want to hurt you after all, he just needed to make sure others knew who you belonged to!

Once you loosened up a bit, he rolled his hips into yours, whimpering into your ear. You were just so tight and warm, and all he wanted to do was breed with his beloved! Just the image of your belly nice and swollen with his young was enough to have him rutting into you uncontrollably like the monster he was.

His dark skin glistened with sweat as your pussy clenched around him. He fucked you through your orgasm, cooing as he whispered praise to you.

“My precious little mate, taking me so well… oh, how I love you… no one will take you from me, I promise I’ll have you swollen with my young by the end of the month…”

With that, he painted your walls with his hot, thick cum, filling you until it spilled out onto the bed. He purred, nipping and sucking on your neck as he rode out his high, making sure you were covered in hickeys. He was extra careful with his sharp teeth, unable to even think of hurting his love.

No one would be able to question if you had a lover now… you were absolutely drenched in his scent, and he couldn’t be happier to see your satisfied expression as he cleaned you up and tucked you back into bed.

Keeping his mate happy was all he wanted, really, and he was ready to reveal himself, come the following night.

Hopefully… you’d understand and accept your time… because you were his mate, bonded to him forever.

Whether you liked it or not… but by the way you cling to him as he attempted to pull away, you sleeping face pouting slightly, he knew that you would love him… and all the ways he could pleasure you.

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Much Too Kind

pairing : astarion x (fem) reader

summary : astarion has found a soft spot for a girl who is much too kind for her own good, too trusting, in such a gruesome world.

warnings : astarion bites.

a/n : i haven't played baldurs gate (so i apologize for my lack of knowledge) but astarion is consuming my brain.

“Do you honestly feel safe sleeping with him sitting this close by?”

“He’s done nothing but help us this whole time, why would I not?”

“Because he’s a vampire?” Shadowhearts face is blank, speaking as though her words shouldn’t need to be spoken, an obvious thought. She stares into you, awaiting a proper answerings, and she almost scoffs when she doesn’t get what she wants. In return you roll your eyes, continue to ready yourself to sleep. 

When you feel that you're ready to go to bed, Shadowhearts voice is unheard. She is already situated inside of her bedroll, which she had set up farther away from the fire than you liked, in a way of protecting herself from a seemingly harmless Astarion. In all fairness, you have probably been too trusting in the man. But how could you not?

He had been such a tease since the moment you met him. Because he seemed to annoy you, he never left your side. But you quickly grew fond of the pale man, and it was suddenly you who couldn’t leave his side. Astarion had no problem with this, and a weird fondness began brewing in his chest whenever he was around you. He had a burdening soft spot for you unlike anyone else. He couldn’t even bring himself to feed around you in case he scared you off, feeling an unprecedented amount of fear of losing you. The relationship you shared was teetering on a very thin line of romance and teasing gone too far. 

The two of you were an unlikely pair. Astarion was manipulative, and you knew that from watching him work, but he never used it on you (as far as you knew). He viewed you as too sweet for your own good, taking it upon himself to keep you from danger. In all honesty, you probably didn’t need him for that. Sure he helped when you were obviously being lied to and couldn’t tell but you could hold your own in battle just fine. From your point of view he was nothing but trustworthy and helpful. Shadowheart, your ever protective friend, had a hard time seeing the same thing. 

But when you made a fuss about having to sleep in your armour, unlike Shadowheart who had no problem with the matter, he had offered up a spare shirt. You weren’t sure where it had been beforehand but it was comfy, with undone strings hanging from the neckline, and it was large enough to go down to your mid thigh which was perfect. And his scent covering it was an added bonus. You had never thought much about it, but you never wore your heavy pants to sleep, being too hot inside your stuffy bed roll. 

You were usually asleep before everyone else, and the first to wake in the morning, so this never proved to be a problem. And, if you had to think about it, you were usually in a tent by yourself. But with only Shadowheart and Astarion around you didn’t see a problem. 

But when you crawled into your bedroll, at a middle distance between Astarion propped up against a log by the fire and Shadowheart sleeping farther from him, you began to see the problem. Shadowhearts words from before were dug into your brain, what if Astarion was dangerous and he did end up hurting you in your sleep just like she had said. You had never felt any fear towards the man, but her words had planted an unfamiliar distrust in your head.

You were dangerously aware of every noise around you. Unable to sleep, because of your focus on everything around you. The soft snores from Shadowhearts bedroll, and the quiet hum from a bored  Astarion playing with the fire. As long as he was by the fire, seated much too close for comfort now, you thought you’d be able to hear him coming. You think everything is fine, but being so edge you catch the smallest sounds, and you shoot up at the sound of a twig snapping. 

“My, my. Such a light sleeper my dear.” You turn towards Astarion, breath heavy, and a guilty feeling festering in your lower stomach. He’s almost exactly where he was when you first laid down. There’s a smug grin written on his face and you’re not sure why, though you don’t have the energy to question it. With sleepy eyes, you look around once more searching for anything out of the ordinary in the darkness, but you turn back to Astarion in the end. 

“I can’t sleep.” He throws another piece of wood on the fire, the light dancing across his face in pretty patterns from the dispersed light, his white shirt untied just enough to see his collarbones and the beginning of his chest. The sight alone has thrown the tenseness away from your body, and your muscles soften up, posture loosening. 

“And is there any reason in particular?” You meet his eyes again, a flurry of heat covers your cheeks, the look in his eyes telling you that you had been caught ogling him. “You seem so on edge, darling.”

He’s seated, practically the same height as you while he lays against the log, but it feels like he’s staring down at you. His fangs show as he parts his lips in a small, condescending grin. 

“I’m just not used to sleeping out in the woods s’all.” He nods, he doesn’t believe you, and you can understand why because you’ve only been camping in the wild for weeks by now. 

“Are you sure that's all? Cause I believe I heard that vile woman over there talking about a ‘bigger threat’ than whatever’s out there.” He gestures to Shadowheart and the dark, full woods around you. 

You shake your head, pout on your face, nervous that he would think differently of you if he knew what was actually going through your head. He was perceptive enough and, unbeknownst to you, you were an easy read. Of course he had heard the two of you talking, and he knew that you had not spoken ill of him, but it was so fun to tease you. And he knew you had grown nervous in his presence. 

“You’re not worried because of me are you?” Your eyes widen and you shake your head once more. There was  concern written all over his features, the crinkle in between his brows and his parted lips. To anyone else his concern would look fake, you were certain it was real. And to him, it was somewhere in between. He did feel something for you that put him in an unfortunate position, but the idea that you were scared of him sent misery through his bones.

“No of course not!” The comfy bedroll you had been laying in, shimmies down your legs as your torso tightens up again and your posture becomes much too straight for your liking. 

A soft sigh leaves his mouth, “Would you come sit over by me? You feel so far away.” His lips curve at the corners when you seem to think for a moment, but ultimately stand up. You bunch your bedroll up in your arms, not wanting to sit on the rocks. And when your eyes meet his again, he's already eyeing up your legs, you feel suddenly much too exposed. The night air nips at your skin and you hurry over to the spot beside him, throwing the bed roll on the ground and sitting on top of it. 

“Didn’t need to bring that over, silly girl. There’s a perfectly fine seat right here.” His eyes look down to his lap then back up to you, your face flush again. 

“I’m okay here,” You regret looking at him when you see his eyes plead with you, “..For now.” 

He really was cunning. You figured he was scheming. But he truly had no intention of misleading you, just wanted you close. He couldn’t help that he found it so cute how nice you were. Too nice in his opinion. Dangerous world out there, he was just trying to teach you who you could and couldn’t trust. Maybe you would get into more trouble, if you always trusted men like him.  

But no danger if you never have to think about other men. 

“Do you believe the things she says?” His eyes stared into the fire, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from him, that guilty feeling was growing in your stomach. “I know you must not trust me, at least not fully.”

You stay silent, you’re almost scared to talk, in fear you offend him anymore then you already have. You pull your knees up to your chest, arms wrapping around your legs, guilt eating away at your insides. 

He looks at you now, with his eyes he traces your legs where your shirt no longer hangs enough to cover you, up to your face that wears a pout and tired eyes. “Do I scare you?” 

“No!” You sit up onto your knees, facing him fully. “No! I’m sorry Astarion, if i made you feel that way..”

He almost feels bad for a moment. You were too sweet, and while yes he had been worried for a moment, he was only teasing. 

In your moment of weakness, and putting yourself in an easy position, he grabs you to pull you onto his lap. Where he has wanted you all along. Both thighs on either side of his seated form, face much closer to his own than you ever planned on being. His shirt, adorning your body, hangs down your thighs and rustles against his legs. 

“Could you..promise?” His voice is so smooth, and his eyes look so alluring in this position, his hands planted on your hips. Your breath is caught in your throat when he asks, you aren't so sure that your answer before is entirely truthful now. He has too much control of this situation, and it is making you nervous, more nervous then before if that was even possible. 

“I..I promise. Of course, I promise!” You're in such a compromising position and you wish you had slept with pants on. It’s much too cold out on your bare skin, but being on Astarions lap is making your body much too hot.

“Very good.” His head moves closer to you, pulling your body into his and sending shivers down your spine. 

“Astarion!” Your hands find his shoulders, trying to put distance between you but his hold is strong. He has got you where he wants you and there is no way he will be letting you go. His face buries itself in your neck, breath tickling your skin and his nose leaving soft touches against you. 

“You smell..delicious.” His voice was sultry, and so suggestive. You knew what he wanted, had been waiting for the moment he would say something. He was a hungry man with an uncomfortable amount of power over you. And your neck was looking awfully inviting. You hated that he had you feeling so many things, for a man who was so obviously trying to take advantage of you. 

He may have thought you were naive but you were smart enough to know what this vampire wants from you. Even though you were debating allowing it just so he would be happy and full, it tugged at your mind that he might just be using you for this purpose.

Shadowheart may have been right about him being a threat while you slept, but right now he was just as threatening. Would it hurt when he sunk his teeth into your skin?

As if he suddenly became more conscious in his actions, he pulled away, breath heavy against you. “I’m sorry, you are just such an appetising little thing.” He places a soft kiss to your cheek, your silence beginning to fill him with the same guilt you were feeling. He wasn’t sure why. This is what he wanted, sure he had grown fond of you but this is what he needed from the beginning. But it didn’t feel right anymore, not with the way you were so pliable in his hands, allowing him to tease you just so you wouldn’t offend him. 

“Are you hungry?” Your voice, surprising him, sends his eyes straight to yours. You couldn’t possibly be considering what he thought you were. 

“Yes darling, but don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” He lets out a heavy sigh, planting more kisses on your cheek down to your jaw. His attempt to distract you almost works but you gently move your face away, pulling your hair away from your neck. 

“Could I help?” You looked at him with a warmth in your eyes, one he hadn’t seen from anyone but you for years. Your devotion to him pulled at his heart, you were so willing to help him without even knowing if it would hurt or not. 

“You would do that..for me?” His hand finds your cheek, voice sending gentle vibrations through you. You can only nod, scared that if you speak it’ll be nothing above a whisper. 

He takes your hair from your hand, holding it out of his way. A gentle kiss to your cheek. Another on your jaw. And he moves them all the way down to your neck where he intends to bite. 

‘Astarion?” 

“Yes, my dear?” He pulls away, and you can tell it pains him to by the look of disappointment on his face, lips too pouty for how tough he always tries to act.

“Is it going to hurt?”  His eyes are so soft when he looks at you, even though he wants nothing more than to sink his fangs into your flesh. 

“I’ll try to make it painless, but you can hold my hand, yeah?” You nod and intertwine your fingers with his, scared but determined to make him happy. 

He returns to his place in your neck, places a soft kiss before he sinks his teeth into you. Immediately, your fingers squeeze his own and he sends a squeeze back so you know he’s there. He almost feels bad, whimpers falling from your lips, but you taste so delectable that he can’t bring himself to. 

Astarion continues to drink, and you allow it. You only make an effort to stop him when you become dizzy, and your head becomes too heavy for you to hold on your own. Your grip on his hand loosens, and you use his other one to tap at his arm. It seems to snap him out of his trance cause he pulls away, licking his lips. 

“You taste as good as I had hoped you would.” A drowsy smile crashes against your face and your chest swells with pride, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. The energy is gone from your body. You know he wouldn’t have killed you, but any longer and you wouldn’t be in any condition to fight the next day. You didn’t know if you would be as is. 

Astarion seems to notice, and he moves you to sit inside your bed roll. Your hand still holds his, and you lay on your side to face him. 

“Such a sweet thing,” he rubs your hair flat with his free hand, admiring your sleepy features in the fire light, “Sleep my dear. I’ll keep you safe.”

[rileysluvr]

literally just könig jacking off to you and being delusional idk

He’s tossing and turning in bed, and he can’t seem to get comfortable no matter what he does. He had ditched his shirt after around an hour of staring up at the dark ceiling and feeling like his chest was going to cave in, but the sensation still wouldn’t leave him even after. Like it’s clinging on to every square inch of his body and eating away at him, similar to his tight shirt before being removed, though refusing to dissipate after the multiple attempts in distracting himself.

He’s burning up, and he feels it most beneath the fabric of his sweatpants. He stretches his back and shoulders against his mattress, but it gives him no relief. And he needs that relief, so desperately, he thinks he may just die if he goes another minute longer in this state. The twitching in his muscles with the compulsion that plagues them are far stronger than his mind. He huffs a final exasperation, mutters some broken and degrading swears in German, and ultimately, he gives in.

He swipes his unusually cold palm over his face before dragging it down his chest, trailing across his abdomen and following the wake of soft hair that disappears beneath the peaking waistband of his boxers. His fingertips stretch the band as they dip beneath it, and his breathing is becoming heavier yet weaker, more shaky-like, as they creep closer to where he needs attention the most.

He’s teasing himself, involuntarily and painfully. Perhaps this is his last attempt to allow himself a second thought, think twice before he commits such a dirty act on military grounds. But his mind is far too fuzzy to pay attention, it’s just been so long.

His hand finds his cock, exhaling a shaky breath at the forbidden contact, this is his last chance to turn back. His boxers are growing to be too tight around him, and this time he won’t be able to just put up with it until his thoughts dissipate. He needs release, and soon. It won’t be much, it’s only once, and then he can finally sleep, he convinces himself.

He pulls his boxers down his pelvis, leaving them just below where his hard cock is now free. He wraps his fist around his base, fingers enveloping each vein that bulges with desperation. He groans ever so softly, jaw slacked and eyes closed as goosebumps coat his chest and arms. It’s mere seconds before his mind is plummeting into uncontrollable thoughts and damned-worthy desires.

It’s your hand, he’s already imagining. It’s your smaller fingers around his cock, not enough to compensate for his size but still a hundred-times better than any fist could work. He knows you’d make it work. You’re clever like that, far more than he is.

It’s your thighs straddling his as your arm moves up and down at an excruciating pace. He needs your weight on him so fucking bad, preferably on his shoulders and face as he’d hold you down on his mouth. Fuck, he needs to taste you so bad.

It’s your voice that would talk him through it, command him on what to do until he’s broken down to the young, naive, want-to-be soldier he once was. He’ll do anything you say. He’ll walk through Hell and back if you tell him to. Hand on his heart, honest to whatever god may be out there. Smack him around.

Anything you say.

And it’s him who would satisfy your every want with unending diligence to thank you. Just fucking use him, already.

He couldn’t shake the thought, no matter how hard he tried.

No matter how dirty he felt imagining his coworker in such a position, rather than a woman of what he thinks his type should be, or even an actress from a porn magazine. No matter how unlikely it was that he’d have a chance with you, it’s downright embarrassing. And no matter how heavy that guilt sat in his gut, his fist only squeezes tighter with his strokes, retaining that languid speed that has him gritting his teeth.

You flood his mind and you don’t even know the magnitude of it because you’re just a girl living your, perhaps slightly unconventional, life in the military, and he’s the coworker that people only look twice at to check if, yes, he really is that tall.

Flashes of your face, and that pretty body of yours in the most innocent of outfits, refuse to quit their tormenting of his mind, and here he was, fucking his fist to them at night like a desperate dog. He wants to see how your skin would contrast his pale and heavily scarred exterior, and how you would surely take him from his comfort zone and make him a better man.

He swipes his thumb over the head of his cock with a broken whine, collecting his pre and spreading it down his shaft as far as it goes; fuck, he’s so sensitive, and he just needs more. He can hear your voice in the back of his mind, conceptualizing what you would say as you guide him past his threshold. You’d be so sweet on him, just as you always are on the rare occasion you’re put in a position together where talking seemed the best option for pastime. You really are just perfectly perfect all around, he thinks, and he wants you to know it, so bad.

You’re too good for him, you’re too striking. Truthfully, while the thought of you taking care of him in his most vulnerable state has him thirsting like a dog and bucking his hips up into nothing but a mangled hand and cold air, he knows that’s not him. No, he needs to be of service, one way or another.

He knows he’d be on his knees in front of you, on the ground you walk on, looking up at you with big eyes as he’d place kisses all up and down your bare thighs, careful not to ruin your clothes. He’d worship every part of your body until all you knew was utter admiration, though he doubts you’ve ever gone a day without being honored for your being.

How could any man not leap at the opportunity to praise your every step in life, especially if you’ve taken him to bed?

He actually whines out into the empty space of his quarters, face all beet red and eyes bleary from surprising himself with such an act. Self-deprecating whispers linger in the back of his mind and will remain for when he’s later clearheaded, but for now, the only thing he can think to do is continue fisting his sensitive cock to the notion of being with you.

He’d let you mold him to whatever you wanted, he’d beg you to ride his face and get yourself off with his assistance. He wants to get drunk on your pussy, he knows he would. He knows you’d taste better than anything he has ever had, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to stop himself once he starts unless you say something. Punish him, even, for not doing it right or knowing both of your limits because he’s just such a hungry, greedy whore who only wants more, more, and more.

Should you ever let him into your life, he’d be better off quitting his job and dedicating his future to just making you feel so good and so loved, and so, so proud of him. He wants to hear you call him a good boy, maybe even a loyal slut. Etch it into his skull so he could never forget, as if that’d ever be possible.

He’d fuck you in any position you’d like, and he means any.

Lay on your back, legs spread and just begging for him to bury his face in your cunt, and he’ll listen like the good boy he is until you’re beyond satisfied. Stretch it out to hours if you please; the man has stamina that would put any gold-medalist to shame, and never once in his life, has he been a quitter.

“i’m good, i promise i am… i’ll be a good boy for you, please.”

Pin him to the mattress and ride him until he can’t think or speak, use him to reach your own high while taking him for all that he has because that’s all he’s there for, is to make you feel good. The strictest soldier would turn to putty under your hold.

“das ist—…s’too much, ich flehe dich—ngh—! bitte, bitte—”

Pull him into an abandoned building and make him fuck you on the cold, hard floor despite being at work, on the job. He would jeopardize even the highest value of intel for a piece of you.

“i’ll do anything, i swear… i’ll be quiet, i-i’ll let you use me… jus’ wanna make you feel good. it’ll make me feel good, too.”

Either way, he’s going to end up on his knees once again and, if you allowed, watch his pearly cum drip from your puffy cunt before taking two of his fingers and pushing it back in, words and babbles of endless praise slipping from his lips as he imagines the idea of starting his own little family with you.

His abdomen feels tighter just thinking of it, you, and his hand with a lethargic pace around his cock. His breathing is jagged, ruthlessly so, and it picks up when his fist does as well. He stretches and rolls his shoulders, dying whimpers spilling from his lips. Your name, as well, and he’s blushing more violently then ever. You’ve got a spell on him; he’s all yours, if you want.

Christ, what would you say to him right now? Scold him, berate him. Even slap him for jerking off to the mental image of you without your permission, and edge him until he cries like an abandoned baby. Call him pathetic and promise him he’ll never, ever have a chance because he is such a coward, and all.

Oh, but you’re just so sweet on him. He doesn’t think he’s ever even heard you swear, let alone insult someone. You go to such great lengths to lighten the mood, make people feel so safe and welcome around you. And your fucking laugh, Christ, your giggles are always music to his ears. Anything that isn’t praise would sound far too foreign in your voice for him to compute. With those soft, plump lips at his ear, cooing him through his high he’s gonna reach so early, so fucking soon— fuck, he's…

He’s gonna—

A soft knocking on his door causes his hand to stop and eyes to shoot open, lightly gasping for air as he was pulled just seconds away from his orgasm. He’s frozen, dead in his tracks, and he waits for it to happen again to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things. The one time, he succumbs to his perverse hankerings.

A few seconds go by before he hears the knocking once more, this time sure it was for him. He swiftly sits up and then stands, shoving his cock in his boxers and pulling his pants back up. He leans down to grab his shirt, pulling it over his big head, introducing a new type of discomfort from before due to the cold sweat he broke coating his chest. He’s reaching for his helmet when there’s a voice coming from the other side of the door, and the hardened soldier nearly jumps in surprise.

“König?”

Oh, fuck. His entire body tenses up at the wake of your voice. Outside his room, right now, when he was just fucking his fist to the image of you. He couldn’t begin to describe or label what he’s feeling, but it’s something along the lines of utter shame and mortification. He mutters a quick and defeated curse under his breath, aggression only aimed at himself.

You’re speaking up again before he even has time to think, granted his mind was spinning and he was making no move to answer you. He’s frozen, stuck in space. Time seemed to race by him without warning, and he hated it.

“Are you awake?”

Your voice is gentle, as always, and so quiet in order to not wake anyone else in the corridor. He’s surprised he could understand you so well, then again, he’d recognize your voice from a klick away.

Could you hear him from outside his door? He wouldn’t ever be able to recover. His hard cock twitches in his pants at the thought of being caught in the act of jerking off to you, and he shakes his head, fighting back the groan boiling in his chest at the simple, yet so fucking intricate, idea of it. He’s a mess.

He decides against the hood, which would most likely prove a mistake as he could literally feel the heat exuding from his face. He knows his hair is a sore sight and his clothes are wrinkled beyond repair. You’ve ruined him, and you don’t even know it.

He swallows thickly as he trudges over to the door, attempting to clear his throat and stabilize his breathing, and his hot palm lands on the screaming door handle.

[chvoswxtch]

i love you

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: everything has led to this.

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, blood, & weapons, all the angst in the world (like all of it)

word count: 6.6k

a/n: i think this is the longest chapter to date, & definitely the most jam packed. grab a snack, a blanket, some tissues, & settle in. i can't accept your therapy invoices, but i will be here to provide comfort after. :) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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As dozens of Billy’s men filled the expansive underground space you were in, your ears picked up on several different sounds. The click of clips being loaded into guns, the rip of velcro straps on kevlar being pried open, the hiss of steel being sharpened to a fatal point. However your brain could barely focus on any of those sounds because the only ones that registered were the murmurs of casual conversations and the easy laughter that followed crude jokes.

These men might as well have been lingering around at a bar with a drink in their hand, not gearing up to go up against one of their own. Whether they were doing it out of loyalty to Billy, or just for the impressive paycheck waiting for them, you knew some of these egotistical fucks were doing it so they could be the one to say they did the impossible; to be able to say they brought down the Punisher.

Some of their faces you recognized from working with Frank when he was your bodyguard, trading off shifts with him, and providing extra detail when needed. It was a nauseating feeling realizing the entire time you thought you were being protected from the Defenders of Freedom, you were in the presence of an even greater threat and didn’t know it. How many of these guys wouldn’t have even hesitated to flip on you for the right price and take you out themselves?

These men knew where you lived, where you worked, who you knew, where you got your fucking coffee every morning, everything about you and your routine. They were prepping to go up against Frank, but you knew not a single one of them would bat an eye if Billy gave the order to kill you once he got what he wanted. Your eyes flickered over to his tall form standing across the room, watching him bark out orders to a group of men that looked like they were buzzing with anticipation for all hell to break loose. Every single person in this room wanted Frank dead.

And it made you sick.

Your mind was still reeling from learning the truth about him, about his past and who he really was. It was like you couldn’t process it. All the pieces were there, connected into place, but your brain refused to see the picture on top. How could they be the same man? 

Frank. Stubborn Frank that put up with your short fuse and shot back at your smartass remarks with his own. Thoughtful Frank that remembered your coffee order, that remembered every little thing you told him no matter how big or small, that neatly packed a bag for you full of your go to essentials and clothes when he brought you to Curtis. Sweet Frank that immediately apologized if he raised his voice too loud, that was going to sleep on the floor of a motel just to make sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable, that touched you like you were delicate glass he didn’t want to break.

Frank that had saved your life more times than you could count, and that had been by your side and protected you from everything he could for the last nine months.

That Frank, your Frank, was the same man that had been painted as a psychopath in the media for murdering thirty-seven people in cold blood.

“You still not talkin’ to me?”

Billy’s boots appeared in your line of sight, but you didn’t look up at him. After he’d forced you to put it all together, you’d completely shut down and gone silent. You weren’t even sure how long you’d been sitting in that chair still as a statue and mute while Billy and his men prepared for Frank’s arrival. While you were struggling to process the bombshell he’d dropped, one question kept popping into your head.

“Why did you give me that file?”

“Thought you’d wanna know. Seein’ as how you were such a big fan and all, writin’ all those articles praisin’ him-”

“I didn’t praise him.”

Billy seemed pleased with himself that he’d finally gotten you to look at him and speak to him. The cocky smirk that fleeted across his lips reignited a flame of resentment within you.

“You sure as hell didn’t condemn him neither.”

Clenching your jaw and setting your lips in a firm line, you looked away from Billy, glaring straight ahead. Your lack of response and attention made his smirk slip, and he let out an exhale of irritation through his nose while looking down at you.

“You know, I really thought you understood.”

Rolling your eyes in exasperation, you looked up at Billy in pinched cynicism and snapped at him.

“Understood what?”

“That things ain’t always black and white. That most things happen in that little gray area, where it gets a little messy. It ain’t always-”

“Oh shut the fuck up, William. Don’t try to preach at me to make yourself feel better about whatever shitty thing you did. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Billy’s eyes darkened at your sharp verbal lashing. He stood up a little straighter and squared his shoulders, his lips pressed together in a bitter line. He watched you turn your head and glower down at the floor as if it had personally wronged you, and he noticed how your bound hands slightly trembled from how pissed off you were. It was a complete 180 from your catatonic state five minutes earlier. He would’ve found it amusing if he wasn’t so annoyed.

Suddenly the lights went out, and the underground space went pitch black. The darkness was so opaque, you couldn’t even see your own hands when you looked down in their general direction. A murmur of confusion and irritation spread throughout Billy’s men, and the sound of guns being cocked and knives being unsheathed seemed to echo in the stillness. 

Not even a minute later, there was a loud click as the emergency lights from the backup generator switched on. It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the dull light coming from the intermittently spaced fixtures. All of Billy’s men were looking between each other and the various exit points in the underground basement that were shrouded in ominous shadows. Billy shifted quickly into a more guarded stance, his eyes hard and jaw taut while turning his attention to the man standing closest to his left.

“Carson, take your men and check the breakers. Power station’s on the south side.”

“Yes sir.”

As the team of six disappeared down the hallway on the far right, Billy turned to face the remaining group of his men with a stern expression.

“Alpha team, you’re on the North exits. Bravo, you’re on the South. When Carson gets me an update on those breakers, Echo I want a rooftop visual. You know who’s coming. You know your orders.”

“Kill Castle.”

A blonde man you didn’t recognize had a cocky grin on his thin chapped lips, emphasizing his point by cocking his gun.

“He ain’t gonna hesitate to kill you.”

Some of the men exchanged glances at that statement before looking at Billy with a nod of affirmation. His dark brown eyes flickered over each of them, looking for any sign of fear or weakness.

“He does not leave here alive. You do whatever you gotta do to bring him down. Watch your six. Remember, there’s half a million waitin’ for whoever brings me the body.”

Frantically glancing between Billy and his men as they fully geared up, you gripped the arms of the chair while looking up at Billy in a mixture of incredulity and confusion. You thought Billy had brought his men in for defense. It was evident none of them had a problem killing Frank, but you assumed the whole point of their presence was to protect Billy, and to force Frank to surrender by outnumbering him so that Billy could trade for the intel. If they killed him on sight, Billy wouldn’t have any way to get what Frank found.

“I thought you said this was a trade.”

Turning his head to look down in your direction, Billy could see the clear panic on your face. There was a wicked gleam in Billy’s eyes as a sardonic smirk slowly tugged at the edge of his lips.

“Nah, sweetheart. It’s a trap.”

An icy trickle of dread cascaded down your spine rapidly and your breath hitched in your throat. Billy didn’t give a shit about what Frank had on him. He hadn’t brought him here to bargain. He’d lured him into an execution, using you as bait.

A cacophony of rapid gunfire and shouting unexpectedly echoed from the hallway on the far right that Carson’s team had disappeared down, and everyone’s heads immediately snapped in that direction. Billy’s smirk swiftly dropped from his mouth, and he quickly went rigid. But before anyone could even react, the resonation of bullets ricocheting and panicked yells abruptly stopped, and it went dead silent.

The previous arrogant attitude the remaining men had up until that moment seemed to rapidly evaporate, and their heavy breathing and wide eyed gazes betrayed their true apprehension as the reality of the situation sobered up their egos. They knew what that sound meant. They knew who it meant.

And so did Billy.

“Get to your positions.”

Billy’s dark eyes flickered over his men with a hardened glare when they didn’t move quickly enough, and his voice reverberated off the walls when he yelled.

“Now!”

Immediately, they started to disperse like scurrying ants, and the sound of their boots hitting the concrete floor in every direction echoed like claps of thunder. When you looked up at Billy again, you saw something in him you’d never seen before, something you didn’t even think he was capable of.

Fear.

At first the sound was so soft and quiet that when Billy looked down at you and saw your head tilted downwards and your shoulders faintly shaking, he thought you were crying. But when it grew louder in volume, Billy’s short lived concern turned into pure irritation as it became clear that you weren’t crying.

You were laughing.

The edge of his lips curled into a faint snarl as he lunged at you, slipping his hand into your hair to roughly yank your head backwards which earned a grunt of pain from you. Billy’s nose was barely half an inch from yours as he bent down and glared at you.

“What the hell is so funny?”

Staring him down with equal animosity, your lips slowly spread into a wide and wicked grin. Leaning in even closer to get in his face as much as he was in yours, you spoke in a harsh taunting tone laced with venom.

“You are so fucked.”

Billy stared into your eyes, seeing nothing in them but pure stubborn rage. His own lips spread into a dark smirk, and he let go of your hair to wrap his hand around your throat instead, making a point to apply just enough pressure to make you inhale sharply. He could feel the thrum of your rapid pulse against his fingers, and his breath was warm against your lips when he leaned in closer.

“Nah, that’s where you’re wrong darlin’. I got you.”

The sound of a knife being unsheathed was sharp in your ears, and the glint of a blade reflected in your eyes as Billy held the serrated steel in front of your face. Cocking his head to the side menacingly, he dragged the flat side of it down your slightly heaving chest slowly. He kept his eyes locked on yours, and you refused to look away. A crisp rip suddenly sounded, and the pressure on your wrists was gone as he cut your restraints. 

“As long as I got you, I’m gettin’ outta here.”

Narrowing your eyes, you glared at Billy as he bent down to cut the restraints around your legs. When he rose to his full height, he slipped the knife back into the sheath on his hip and reached out to grab your arm tightly, tugging you up to your feet roughly.

“C’mon, you’re with me.”

When he took a step forward, you yanked your arm out of his grasp, glowering up at him as you raised your chin defiantly and spoke through your teeth.

“Pussy.”

Billy’s eyes flickered with both annoyance and amusement. He slipped his gun out of his holster and held it at his side, gesturing in your direction with his chin.

“Think I liked you better all tied up.”

“Yeah I'm sure you did.”

Ignoring your challenging stare, Billy grabbed your arm harshly again and started pushing you towards one of the exits that led down a long tunnel like hallway. The emergency backup lights lit up the path enough to navigate, but there were gaps of shadowed darkness in between them. You still had no idea exactly where you were, but it looked like some kind of abandoned warehouse or factory.

You struggled to keep up with the large stride of Billy’s long legs as he practically dragged you along with him. His eyes were focused straight ahead, his hand gripped tightly around the handle of the gun in his other hand, his index finger resting on the trigger. 

“Where the hell are you taking me?”

“Be quiet.”

Your eyes flickered down to the knife in the sheath on Billy’s hip. As your gaze darted quickly between the knife and Billy’s focused face, you took advantage of his diverted attention and impulsively reached for the handle to yank it out. The force of the movement caught Billy off guard and made his grip on your arm falter for a second. Ripping your arm away from his grip, you quickly took a few steps backwards and pointed the sharp tip of the knife in his direction. 

A crease formed between Billy’s dark brows as he glanced between the knife in your hand and the empty sheath on his hip before an expression of annoyed realization dawned on his sharp features. Letting out a deep exhale of irritation through his nose, Billy lifted his head and looked at you in pure vexation, clearly not feeling threatened by you in the slightest.

“Why are you so goddamn difficult? Gimme that.”

Billy held out his hand expectantly. Looking down at his outstretched palm, you lifted your gaze and glared up at him as you tightened your grip on the handle and grit through your teeth.

“No.”

Clenching his jaw in frustration, Billy took a step closer and cocked the hammer on his gun.

“Sweetheart, now ain’t the time-”

“You need me. You’re not gonna shoot me-”

Billy took another step forward and aimed his gun at your thigh, glowering down at you with a hardened look in his eyes. 

“Not in the head, but if you don’t give me that goddamn knife back and stop bein’ so fuckin’ difficult, you’re gonna be crawlin’ outta here.”

Staring up into his darkened eyes, your heart was pounding in your chest. You knew Billy was serious, and it made the adrenaline induced confidence in you falter. He could see that he’d unnerved you with his threat. He took another predatory step forward and held out his hand expectantly once again.

“Now, we’re gonna do this nice and-”

“Russo!”

Both of you instantly snapped your heads towards the other side of the dark hallway shrouded in unfiltered blackness as a familiar deep voice boomed from the end of it. The volume and intensity behind the war cry seemed to rattle your bones and left you frozen in place. Billy expertly swiped the knife from your grasp in a flash, pressing the serrated blade against your throat before you could even blink. He pointed his gun towards the end of the darkened hallway, his stance rigid.

“That you, Frankie?”

The sound of heavy boots against the concrete slowly started to grow louder as they traveled down the hall in your direction. You knew who they belonged to. You’d recognize those footsteps anywhere. Your heart seemed to pound just as loudly in your ears as they got closer and closer. Swallowing thickly, the movement made the blade just barely cut into your skin, but you couldn’t even feel it from the adrenaline coursing through you. All at once, a sharp gasp escaped your lips and your eyes went wide.

A white skull spontaneously appeared in the darkness, floating through it like an apparition. As it came closer, you could see that it was worn and faded, darkened with dirt and grime, coated in several deep red streaks and splatters of fresh blood with various bullets lodged into it. A merciless and unforgiving symbol of wrath and vengeance the worst of the worst in New York had learned to fear.

Time seemed to stand still when he stepped out of the shadows, and your blood ran cold when you were face to face with the Punisher for the first time.

Frank.

His large hands were covered in blood, and his knuckles were split and bruised. Deep shades of violet were blooming on his left cheek and around a fresh cut that was bleeding on his right cheekbone. There was a small split on the bridge of his large nose, and one on the left side of his top lip. The dim light above cast menacing shadows on his bruised and bloodied face, emphasizing the storm of rage brewing in his eyes. 

Frank stopped directly under the light, just a few feet away. You thought you’d seen Frank pissed before, but the way he was staring at Billy made you shudder. He was furious. The anger radiating off of him in waves was palpable.

“It didn't have to be like this, Frankie.”

Frank’s index and middle finger on his right hand twitched twice as he spoke in his gruff voice.

“It wouldn’t be if Madani hadn’t been right.”

“Surprised she trusted you at all. You were there in Kandahar, Frank. Hell, you’re the one that pulled the fuckin’ trigger on her partner. She know that?”

“I was followin’ orders. You were workin’ with Rawlins and Schoonover, sellin’ out your honor. For what, Bill? Money?”

Hearing the blatant disgust in Frank’s voice, Billy tightened his grip around the handle of the gun and the handle of the blade simultaneously. 

“You shoulda just left it alone, Frankie. But you chose that bitch Madani over me.”

Frank tilted his head to the side slightly, his dark brows and face scrunched in a concoction of disappointment and anguish as he looked at Billy. 

“You think I wanted to believe her, Bill? You think I wasn’t lookin’ for somethin’ to prove her wrong, huh? You think I wasn’t hopin’ to God I’d find nothin’?”

The despair laced within Frank’s rough voice killed you. 

“You shoulda come to me. I was your brother, Frankie. All of this, it was unavoidable.”

Billy gestured between you and Frank with his gun before aiming it at Frank again. Frank hadn’t looked at you once. His attention was solely focused on Billy. The second those words left Billy’s mouth, you saw the way Frank’s face slowly morphed into a forlorn portrait streaked in betrayal.

“Was killin’ my family unavoidable?”

Frank’s grief stricken question felt like an electric shock. Snapping your head to look up at Billy, you watched as he visibly stiffened, his grip on both weapons faltering as his face fell slightly.

“You do it, Bill?”

Billy wouldn’t meet Frank’s eye, or yours. He dropped his gaze downwards, and what appalled you was his lack of a reaction. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t try to deter Frank’s accusation or defend himself at all, didn’t offer any kind of correction or explanation. He was standing there quietly like Frank hadn’t just dropped a grenade of trauma between them.

“Look at me. Look at me!”

Frank’s loud voice booming once again made you flinch, and Billy finally lifted his head to look at him. Standing up straighter, Billy looked at Frank with unnerving calmness.

“I didn’t pull the trigger-”

“But you knew about it.”

Frank’s voice had been reduced to a wavering whisper. The dim light above highlighted the way his brown eyes had glossed over with treachery that threatened to spill at any second. The pain in his gaze and in his voice brought tears to your own eyes as you looked at him. Billy plastered an impassive look on his sharp features, giving a faint nod of his head and speaking with as much nonchalance as if he was discussing the weather.

“Yeah, I knew.”

Frank closed his eyes solemnly, a stray tear slipping down each of his cheeks, the clear droplets turning pastel pink as they mixed with the deep crimson stains of blood lingering on his face. Inhaling sharply, when Frank opened his eyes again, he looked away for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth rapidly as a muscle feathered in his jaw. His nostrils flared and his lips twitched as he faintly shook his head in denial and disbelief.

“She loved you. My kids loved you.”

“It was just business-”

“It wasn’t business when my kids were callin’ you ‘Uncle Billy’. It wasn’t business when Maria was makin’ sure you had somewhere to spend the holidays. It wasn’t business when I heard my family screamin’ for me. When I saw my wife and my boy…layin’ dead in the grass. When I held my baby girl in my arms, seein’ blood and meat pourin’ out of where her face should be.”

Billy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he appeared to swallow down even the slightest flicker of remorse. Frank’s bloodied and beaten face was stoic, but his eyes gave away how distraught he was knowing that Billy had been involved in orchestrating the massacre of his family. It hadn’t been an inopportune tragedy getting caught in the middle of a shootout. It had been a premeditated execution. The bullet in Frank’s head was meant to be a killshot.

When Frank lifted his gaze and looked at Billy again, there was nothing but pure hatred left.

“No. It wasn’t just business then, Bill, and it sure as hell ain’t just business now. It’s pretty goddamn personal.”

“I never wanted this-”

“Yeah, well you got it.”

Frank’s bereavement had evaporated from the blaze of retribution that was now burning in his eyes. Billy watched as Frank physically morphed from a brokenhearted man in mourning into a vengeful memento mori right before his eyes. The reality of what Billy had done was so much worse than your wildest imagination could’ve ever conjured. It burned through the short fuse of your temper, and as a surge of adrenaline shot through your nervous system, you shoved the knife away from your throat while Billy was distracted. As soon as he turned his head in your direction, you struck your fist across his face, not even feeling the sharp pain that pierced your knuckles.

“You fucking coward.”

The unexpected impact made Billy stumble a half step backwards, dropping the knife that was in his other hand as it came up to clutch his jaw. He swiftly recovered from the hit and turned the gun on you. 

“Whoa whoa whoa, easy there, killer. Let’s calm that little temper down. I’d hate to ruin that pretty face-”

Taking a step closer towards the gun aimed at your chest, you stared him down and bared your teeth in a faint snarl.

“Go ahead. It’ll be nothing compared to what he’s gonna do to yours.”

Billy visibly stiffened at your razor sharp taunt, and his eyes darkened as he stared down at you. Cocking his head to the side slightly, there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he suddenly chuckled darkly at your fearless rage.

“Goddamn, Frankie. She this feisty in bed?”

“The hell are you doin’?”

At first you didn’t realize that Frank was talking to you. In the midst of your unfiltered anger, you were still glaring up at Billy. It wasn’t until Frank called your name in a harsh reprimand that you turned to look at him and saw that he was finally looking at you. A flash of confusion interrupted your adrenaline induced wrath noticing that his anger seemed to now be directed at you instead of Billy.

“What?”

“I said what the hell are you doin’? He’s got a goddamn gun, Y/N-”

“Yeah I can see that, it’s pointed at my fucking face.”

Frank clenched his jaw when you snapped at him with equal frustration. He let out a puff of air through his lips and shook his head as he glanced around in pure irritation.

“For Christ’s sake, you never fuckin’ listen, do ya? You’re always runnin’ your goddamn mouth instead of doin’ what you’re told. What’d I say, huh?”

A look of raw hurt and puzzled betrayal crossed your face when Frank yelled at you. You were taken aback by the hostility in his gaze and in his voice. He was staring you down in a way that almost made you shudder. 

“I told you keep your distance, yeah? I said stay offline. But you just push, you can’t ever let go of that need for control, can you? And now look at you, underneath all this shit, got your panties all in a fuckin’ twist. You never hesitate, do ya? Just like that day in the cabin.” 

Frank’s angry tirade sent such an unexpected shock through you, it took you a moment to register what he was actually saying, but the mention of the cabin abruptly made it click and a light bulb seemed to go off when you realized what Frank was doing.

Distance. Offline. Push. Control. Underneath. Twist. Never hesitate.

“You always aim for my goddamn nerves.”

Frank roughly smacked his palm against his own shoulder in what looked like a display of frustration, but you understood what it really meant. 

“Just do what I said. You got that?”

He stared at you with a look in his eyes only you could decipher, a silent communication passing between the two of you, and you steeled your expression as you swallowed thickly and gave him a subtle but imperceptible nod. 

“Yeah. I got it.”

“Show me.”

Billy had been looking between you and Frank, amused by your little lover's quarrel. Frank’s final words made his dark brows furrow in curiosity, and when he turned his head to look at him, you quickly surged forward and gripped the barrel of the gun in your left hand, pushing it away from you and slipping your right hand under Billy’s wrist. Twisting the barrel forcefully to the right, Billy grunted as his wrist unexpectedly twisted with it forcing his grip to loosen. The second you pulled it away from his grasp and stepped back, he lunged forward, and you fired a shot right at his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

Billy’s back collided with the wall behind him when the bullet ripped through his right shoulder, his hand immediately coming up to apply pressure. Before the shock of what you’d just done could even register, Frank rushed forward and nearly tackled you as he wrapped his arms around your frame and forced you forward into a sprint. He dragged you down another hallway, and by the time you finally stopped running, your lungs were burning and your hands were trembling.

Frank grabbed you by your shoulders, ducking his head to capture your frantic gaze.

“Listen to me, I need you to run.”

Staring up at him wide eyed, a crease of confusion nestled between your brows.

“What?”

“Madani’s waitin’ outside, Homeland’s got the place surrounded. Take this hallway all the way down. You run, and you don’t look back for nothin’, you got that?”

Your eyes darted back and forth between Frank’s rapidly. Your brain was still trying to process everything that had just happened, but the thought of leaving Frank seemed to snap you out of your shock. A stubborn look of refusal contorted your features as you looked up at him.

“Wha-no. No, I’m not leaving you-”

Frank cupped your face in his large hands and stared down into your eyes with a pleading expression.

“Hey…hey, listen to me sweetheart, listen. I gotta finish this. I can’t…I can’t let it go.” 

Frank paused as he swallowed thickly and looked down at you, a sheen of remorse shining in his apologetic expression. His next words felt like a shot to the chest.

“And you can’t stay. You gotta go, you gotta walk away.”

The second those words left his lips, it felt like the breath had been knocked out of your lungs. You immediately started to shake your head in refusal.

“Frank-”

“Go, now.”

“Frank, don’t do this-”

Frank leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and you hated how much it felt like a goodbye. When he pulled back, he looked down at you with a tender expression and somber swirls in his warm brown eyes. His voice was the softest you’d ever heard it when he traced his thumb over your cheekbone gently.

“I love you, you got that? I love you, but you gotta walk away.”

Tears immediately sprang in your eyes as you slowly shook your head and begged him in a desperate whisper.

“Frank please-”

“Hey, shh shh shh.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your forehead in a delicate show of affection, allowing them to linger for a moment before he let go and took a step backwards.

“You gotta do this for me, baby. Please. Please, just this once, do what I ask.”

As soon as he stepped backwards, you stepped forwards and instinctively reached for his hand, gripping onto it tightly. Tears slipped past your bottom lash line while you looked up at him with raw emotion in your eyes, silently begging him not to go. 

“Go.”

Frank spoke in a gentle voice, giving your hand a faint squeeze before pulling his away, the blood that had been on his hand now staining yours. Without another word or glance, he turned to walk away, determined to find Billy and finish this. All you could do was watch him disappear, standing right where he left you, feeling like you’d just been shattered into a thousand helpless pieces.

With tears streaming down your face, you could feel panic start to rise in your chest. Turning to look down at the other end of the hallway, your fight or flight seemed to kick in and you started to run frantically. Just as you rounded one of the corners, one of Billy’s men popped out, drawing his rifle on you. Quickly you aimed the gun in your hand back at him, but before either of you could shoot, something suddenly flew out of nowhere and knocked the guy out.

He dropped to the ground with a thud, and you whirled around to aim the gun in your hands towards the shadow it had come from. Your breathing was ragged, and your hands were shaking as you gripped the handle until your knuckles turned stark white. A deep voice suddenly sounded from the darkness.

“Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Soft footsteps approached, and out of the dark shadows, a pair of dark red horns glinted under the light. 

Daredevil.

Your eyes widened as he came into the light, his gloved hands help up in a show of surrender. You were completely stunned as he took cautious steps forward until he was in front of you, reaching out with one hand to gently place it on top of the barrel of the gun, slowly lowering it down.

“Go all the way towards the end of the hall. There’s an exit on your right.”

A look of confusion crossed your features as you glanced down the darkened hallway before looking back up at him. He’d come from an entirely different direction. 

“How do you-”

“Just trust me.”

Staring up into the dark lenses of his cowl, you turned your head to look back in the direction of where you’d just run from, where Frank had disappeared. All at once, the gravity of the situation felt too heavy, and you almost buckled under it.

“I…I can’t. I can’t.”

“You need to leave-”

“I can’t leave him.”

Hearing how panicked your breathing was starting to become, he stepped forward, gently grabbing your shoulders to get your attention, and you looked up at him in blurry hopelessness. 

“Listen to me, I'm not gonna let anything happen to him, alright? I promise.”

You couldn’t move. The daunting possibility of losing Frank was overwhelming. This whole thing felt like a devastating nightmare you desperately wanted to wake up from. Feeling your hesitation, Daredevil gently squeezed your shoulders again and spoke in an even softer voice.

“Y/N, Frank asked me to help keep you safe. Please let me do that.”

The way he said your name ignited a spark of recognition in your head, and it had a calming effect. You knew that voice. You’d heard it before. Something about him seemed…familiar, and not just because you’d covered articles about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Something about the way he said Frank’s name sounded familiar too. Letting your eyes wander over his figure in the red and black suit, the gears started turning in your head as you studied the bottom half of his face that wasn’t covered.

“Say his name again.”

“What?”

“Just say it.”

Even with half of his face covered, you could tell that he was clearly puzzled by your request.

“Frank.”

Immediately, it hit you like a bolt of lightning. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him in shock, a breathless whisper of his name leaving your lips in disbelief.

“Matt?”

His plump lips parted, and he pulled back as he stood up straight, tilting his head to the side slightly. Before he could stammer out a response, he abruptly turned his to the left, and he dropped his hands from your shoulders.

“There's seven heavily armed men coming this way.”

Turning your head, you stared down the darkened hallway he was looking at in puzzlement. You couldn’t see or hear anything. Looking back up at him, you blinked a few times before tilting your head to the side and staring up at him in complete bewilderment.

“What? How the fuck do you-”

“It’s complicated.”

“Like being a blind lawyer but also Daredevil.”

Matt pursed his lips at your dry tone and sass. He took a step away from you and bent down to pick up the baton up off the floor next to the unconscious man. 

“Down the hall. Exit on the right. Go.”

Watching him pull out another baton, you threw your hands up in exasperation, still gripping onto the gun in your hand.

“And what the hell are you gonna do? You said there’s heavily armed men coming and you’re gonna, what? Throw your sticks at them?”

Matt cocked his head to the side as he glanced in your direction, slightly amused by your irritated skepticism. 

“They’re batons.”

“Oh, excuse me. Batons. You’re gonna throw your batons at the group of ex-special forces coming this way with automatic weapons.”

A cocky smirk stretched across his lips at your dry sarcasm, and he started to walk backwards.

“Have a little faith, sweetheart.”

When he took off running down the hall, you ran your hand stressfully through your hair, glancing around in complete disbelief. Your boyfriend was the Punisher. Your lawyer was Daredevil. And you were at your wit’s fucking end.

“What the fuck is going on.”

The second you pushed the door open to the exit that led outside, a blinding flash of light had you bringing your hands up to your face, including the one still holding the gun. A swarm of agents wearing protective gear and aiming guns in your direction swiftly rushed towards you, yelling out orders that had you freezing.

“Drop the weapon! Drop it now!”

In a panic, you quickly dropped the gun and held your hands up in surrender. There were police cars, S.W.A.T. trucks, helicopters floating above, and dozens upon dozens of various officers and agents surrounding the area. They were yelling at you to get down on the ground, and you were glancing between all of them anxiously, feeling like you were about to start hyperventilating as you tried to stutter out an explanation. 

Before you could get your limbs to work again and comply, a familiar voice carried over the aggressive demands.

“Stand down, now!”

Madani forcefully broke through the line of agents that had you surrounded, shoving her gun into the holster on her hip as she all but ran over towards you. Her brown eyes scanned over you intensely, quickly assessing for any sign of damage or injury. 

“What happened? Is Billy still in there? Where’s Frank?”

“I…I shot him.”

A crease of perplexity formed between Madani’s dark brows hearing your shaky response.

“What? You shot who?”

“Billy.”

Madani arched one of her dark brows in surprise, and what looked like a hint of pride. She took a step closer, lowering her voice.

“Is he dead?”

The anxiety coursing through your system was cresting, threatening to crash over you and trap you beneath the tide. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and you were shaking uncontrollably. 

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

Madani reached out to grab your arms, giving them a reassuring squeeze as she attempted to keep you calm while she looked at you.

“Y/N, where’s Frank?”

“He-”

All at once you froze. Madani felt you freeze up, and her brown eyes were darting back and forth between your own rapidly for an answer when she saw your eyes go wide with recognition and shock. She called your name again, but it was muffled in your ears and distant, like your head was underwater. A shaky whisper slipped past your lips as they parted.

“I didn't say it back.”

Madani was watching you intently, trying desperately to figure out what was going on and what had happened.

“Didn’t say what back? What are you talking about?”

In an instant, your eyes welled up with thick tears that turned Madani into a blurry silhouette, and you gripped onto her as though someone had punched a hole through your chest and ripped your heart right out. A choked sob caught in your throat when the gravity of what you had missed hit you with enough force to send a crack through your soul.

“I didn’t say it back, Dinah.”

Turning your head to look back at the abandoned factory behind you, the burden of your mistake fractured your rib cage, and a tide of agony and regret burst through the broken pieces like a wrathful flood. Madani caught you in her arms as you collapsed against her, pulling you into her chest when you succumbed to the grief and completely broke down in tears, letting out a wail of his name that tore through your throat and left it raw.

Frank had told you he loved you, and you didn’t say it back.

You didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance to.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[azrielbrainrot]

Silent Voices Speak

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: Both you and Azriel find yourselves with some sleep related problems. Who would have thought you could be each other's remedy?

Warnings: barely any angst

Word Count: 3400

Notes: I can't believe it took me so long to write a new story in the healer!reader universe, they're my first babies. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Universe Masterlist

The killings hadn't stopped. The, by now, tripled security slowed them down and allowed the Inner Circle to be made aware of any disturbances quicker, and the bodies hadn't been found by any innocent civilians since then either, thankfully saving a lot of fae from having to witness such gruesome sights, but the killings hadn't stopped.

Your research has given you some clues as to the motives behind the murders, though you still can't fully understand the ritual behind them. None of the information you've gathered has helped in stopping them from happening or finding the people responsible for them. Amren has traveled to the Day Court and is now searching the High Lord's extensive libraries to try and find more information on a lead she got but, for now, there wasn't enough to make anyone feel safer.

The streets of Velaris felt lifeless, bars and restaurants closing earlier than usual given the unofficial curfew every fae seemed to have set for themselves. The City of Dreamers, heart of the Night Court, was scared of the dark. Apart from the killings, that was what weighed the heaviest on the Inner Circle's minds.

Feyre and Rhysand had been forthcoming with information, letting the public know they were actively searching for the killers and sharing some of the details as a means to stop the rumors that kept going around that were only exaggerating the already awful murders the more they spread. Of course, they'd been careful not to reveal any of the more gruesome details, or the fact that everything pointed to the murders actually being sacrifices to what could be an old God or even worse.

Those had been the details keeping you up at night as you were now, sipping on chamomile tea in hopes of relaxing your body enough to get some sleep without any unwanted thoughts filtering through and spoiling it once again. You wanted to help as much as you could, and weren't considering talking to Rhys and backing down as Azriel had suggested multiple times, but you weren't used to witnessing this much cruelty, not like this.

When you'd been stationed as a healer during the war, you saw a lot of awful things, some of them you won't ever forget, but this felt different. Everything about these killings and the motives behind them had set off every alarm in your body.

The cup was empty before you realized, bringing it up to your mouth only to be met with nothing. You let out a sigh and look over to the comfortable bed, knowing you had to at least lay down and try to fall asleep, no matter how frustrating it was to toss and turn for hours on end or get woken up by terrifying dreams. At least this bed was a lot more comfortable than the one you had at home, it almost made you want to ask Rhysand where he got it from although you probably would never be able to afford it.

You're not entirely sure what brought it on but, after coming back from yet another fruitless mission, Azriel asked you to stay in the townhouse with him. You tried to decline, not entirely comfortable with staying at the High Lord's house indefinitely. You've spent some nights up in the House of Wind when you were helping with research, but this was different. You didn't want to take advantage of Rhysand and Feyre's kindness, but Azriel insisted, a tormented look you weren't used to seeing painted in the shadowsinger's face, and so you ended up accepting.

Just remembering your talk that night made you feel hopeless, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better and take some of the unbearable weight off his shoulders somehow.

“I'm not sure this is necessary,” you try to reason with him, “There haven't been any attacks in the city, with so many eyes on the streets it would be impossible.”

“It also seemed impossible for them to be able to hide for so long but even my shadows are blind to them.”

“I can't stay at my High Lord and Lady's home."

“I can't sleep not knowing you're safe,” the admission feels heavy between you, prompting you to study his face carefully, taking note of the fear and desperation behind his request. “I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Azriel…”

You don't know what to say, not sure what this means for the two of you.

“Please.”

But with that little word he convinced you, not caring if it was Rhysand's house you were going to sleep in, or anyone else's, as long as it made Azriel feel at least a bit more at ease.

Your relationship has been changing ever since that fateful night when he kissed your cheek goodnight. It's a silly thought even now, that something so inconsequential as a peck to the cheek would end up meaning so much for the two of you.

Ever since that day your talks have gotten longer and more frequent, Azriel has also flown you to and from work a few times, has taken you on multiple outings that you can only classify as dates at this point. But things hadn't gotten further than that and more chaste kisses on the cheek.

The timing wasn't right. Not with everything that has been happening and the troubles filling both of your minds, the long hours Azriel had been putting his body through trying to find even the smallest clue about these murders, and your assistance in any research the Inner Circle needs as well as providing mental and physical aid to a terrified city.

Your feelings for him were impossible to deny - even though you've certainly tried to when everyone else asks about him, especially your High Lady, who you've come to learn is an avid busybody, - and you were more than confident that he cared for you just as much, but the timing wasn't right, and so you've been stuck between acting like friends and so much more.

You were still thinking about the shadowsinger when your head hit the pillow, making yourself comfortable and letting your thoughts wander around warm hazel eyes and shy smiles, hopefully lulling you into a peaceful sleep at last.

Rushed murmurs and harsh breaths take you away from the soft grasp of sleep. You try to ignore them at first but as the words grow louder, you try to decipher them confused. A flurry of shadows filters into your room, flying over you when you open your eyes to try and ascertain the situation. You can barely see them with the low lights the moon rays covered by dark curtains provide, but it almost feels like they're tugging at you, urging you to get up.

The thought that Azriel could be in danger makes you leap out of bed, foregoing your robe or slippers as you follow the frantic shadows to his room next to yours. Only hesitating at the door for a moment, knuckles raised against the intricately designed wood as you considered knocking before barging into his room unannounced, but another string of groans and panicked breathing assault your ears, prompting you to open the door.

Your eyes land on the shadowsinger immediately as he lay restless on his bed, blinking a few times as you adjusted to the dim lighting, his room being even darker than yours. A small sigh of relief escapes you when you find him unharmed, although you soon realize that the noises you heard were the result of what appears to be a particularly consuming and terrifying nightmare.

He had struggled so much in his sleep that the sheets were completely thrown off, laying by his feet as his body tossed and turned uninterrupted. A light sheen of sweat covered him, telling you he'd been at this for a while. There was a familiar glint of blue on his nightstand, as Truth Teller and two of his siphons lay close by. You tried not to linger on the fact that he didn't appear to be wearing anything else aside from underwear for too long.

Some of the shadows that swirled around the room meet the ones that had brought you here, moving over you once more as if asking you to save their singer. You wanted to help them, but you're not entirely sure if you should he seeing him like this, if he'd want you to see him so vulnerable.

Aside from that, waking up someone when they were so immersed in a dream, especially a nightmare, could be dangerous and bring more harm than good. Still, you couldn't leave him like this and go back to your room, so you decide to try and call his name softly, hoping the noise or familiarity will be enough to help him wake up in a more organic way.

“Azriel?”

You hesitate in the doorway, feeling like you were already invading his space, but as another weak cry escapes him your body moves on its own. You're at the edge of the bed before you even notice, repeating his name and shaking him softly so as not to startle him too much.

The pain was evident on his face. You didn't know what he was dreaming of but you knew you had to pull him out of there fast. You've never seen him so distressed. Watching him like this felt like a chain was tightening around your heart and lungs, making it hard for you to breathe or think.

At a slightly harder push, his eyes open, one scarred hand moving to grab your wrist, stopping you from touching him, as the other met to the nightstand, finding the hilt of his dagger. His hazel eyes were open wide, clearly disoriented by not only the nightmare but also having someone in his room. You expected nothing less from the Spymaster, of course he couldn't be so easily caught off guard even in his own room, but the tight grip was becoming too much, and you knew it was bruising, not being able to stop yourself from cringing softly at the pain.

As he understands the situation, wide eyes blinking multiple times as the waking world comes into focus, he drops your wrist and pulls away from you, sitting up and almost bumping his head against the headboard in his rush.

Neither of you moves or speaks for a moment, his heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard in the dark room. You wanted to turn the faelights on, to properly check on him, but Azriel always prefered the dark, feeling much more at ease surrounded by it. In fact, his shadows had hurried to him as soon as he woke up.

When his wide gaze settles into a frown, hazel eyes dropping to your wrist, you decide to speak up. You know that look and this was not the time for any other worries that might be growing in his mind, certainly none that concerned you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him, “Are you okay?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No-”

“I shouldn't have hurt you,” he says, more to himself than to you, haunted eyes never straying from your wrist. You had only wanted to help, but now it feels like you made it worse by coming here.

“No, it's my fault. I know better than to wake someone up from a nightmare,” you swallow, throat suddenly dry, “but it looked like you were in pain and I couldn't leave you like this.”

He seemed unwilling to listen to you, a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head the only answer he gave you as you told him it wasn't his fault. Azriel is always too aware of himself, never allows himself any mistakes, as if he thinks he has to prove himself worthy of the life he leads. You don't even want to know what's going through his head now that he's convinced himself he hurt someone he cares about.

You let out a sigh when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything or acknowledge you further, you could almost see him receding into his own mind, getting consumed by his betraying thoughts. If you had listened to your training, you might not have ended up in this situation.

Slowly and very carefully, you move closer to him, giving him time to push you away or stop you if he wanted to. You only stop when your bare knee brushes his thigh, the warmth of his skin spreading through yours. Reaching for his hand, you interlock your fingers and squeeze softly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“I shouldn't have grabbed you like that.” The pain was evident in his face, and it hurt you far more to think he was beating himself up than your wrist ever did. “I'm sorry.”

“There's no reason to be sorry,” you smile up at him, trying your best to soothe him, “You were disoriented and moved to protect yourself, that's all.”

He still looks unwilling to let go of his guilt, but you can see him settling back into himself, his usual calm expression falling over his beautiful face. He lets go of your hand in favor of cradling your wrist, carefully inspecting it as if he was looking at a broken bone and not at a bruise that would be completely healed within the hour. Caressing the soft skin with his thumb lightly, the scarred skin and affection behind the movement causing goosebumps to erupt.

“You didn't answer my question. Are you alright?”

Azriel looks up at you then, a conflicted look falling over his face once more. It seems he had been too focused on your wrist to remember the nightmare, and the fact that you'd seen him like that. You're almost positive he hates the fact that you've seen him like that even more than whatever haunted his nightmares. He's always been an extremely private person, so you can't even imagine what it feels like for him to be seen in such a vulnerable light by someone he barely knows.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” the expression on his face telling you he doesn't believe it, “You didn't. I've been finding it hard to sleep with everything that has been going on.”

“You're safe here.”

“I know, I've just had too much on my mind.” It feels like you're doing this wrong, you're the one that should be worried about him, not the other way around. “Your shadows came into my room and I heard movement so I came to check on you.”

Disapprovement flashes in his eyes, directed at his shadows of course. You'd find it adorable how he treats his shadows like misbehaving children if it weren't for the situation. Hopefully he won't be too harsh on them, you can almost feel the lecture coming. You're not entirely sure how much they can feel, if they can at all, but they had done good in going to find you, even if Azriel reprimanded them for it.

“I didn't know they could do that without you being conscious. They were very helpful,” you smile down at the dark wisps stationed over his shoulders. He clearly didn't agree with you, a soft scoff escaping his lips, but you hope this is enough for them to know they can come to find you in this type of situation from now on. You don't want Azriel to suffer on his own when you're there for him.

“Thank you,” you look up at him in surprise, “You didn't have to come. It was only a nightmare.”

It's not as surprising that he doesn't want to tell you what the nightmare was about, or even change the subject. If he wants to pretend this never happened come morning, you're more than welcome to oblige, as long as he feels better and knows you're always ready to lend a helping hand.

“You can come to me for anything, Azriel,” your hand finds his once again, thumb caressing the scarred skin on the back of his hand. “I'll always be here for you.”

He holds your gaze in an intense stare, the swirl of emotions written in his eyes becoming almost too much to bear, and still you're unable to break away from the all-consuming hazel. It seems like the world stops around you for a moment, and there's only you and him.

As your surroundings return slowly, you suddenly become too aware of the position you're in, of what it would look like if someone walked in. They would find you sitting on his bed, right next to him, lost in his eyes, hands clasped together between you, disheveled hair and half lidded eyes. The lack of clothing only added to the sight, you had never been so conscious of how short and thin the nightgown you wore to sleep was. You can only be grateful that Azriel doesn't sleep completely naked, though his underwear barely leaves anything to the imagination, and your imagination is desperate to run wild.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the thought settles in your mind, clearing your throat softly to try and break yourself out of those thoughts. Looking up at the suddenly captivating pattern painted on his dark navy walls when his gaze becomes too much. You could swear you saw the corner of his lip rise as he likely noticed the effect he had on you. This was a good thing, it was like the Azriel you're used to, but you needed to get back on track.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” You try to untangle your fingers from his but he holds onto your hand, unwilling to let go of you just yet. “I can get you some tea to help you relax if you can't, or maybe we could go for a walk instead?”

Tiring him out could be a good idea, although his body is probably beyond exhausted from the long hours he's been putting himself through. Maybe tea was the best option.

“Can you stay with me?”

His words cut through your racing thoughts, your lips parting in surprise. You had half expected him to kick you out of his bedroom when he came to, inviting you into his bed was the last thing you would have seen coming.

“What?”

“I think I can sleep if you stay,” he whispers, “but if you don't feel comfortable-”

“I don't mind staying,” you rush to assure him with burning cheeks, thankfully matching his own, “You just caught me off guard that's all.”

Azriel offers you a tired smile and, with a wave of his hand, fixes the sheets, moving to the middle of the bed so you have enough room to settle next to him. Your movements are painfully awkward as you lay down next to him, all too aware of every inch of your body, heart beating out of your chest.

While you're in the middle of deciding how to safely position your hands, stiff body frozen in place, he takes matters into his own hands, an achingly fond smile playing at his lips, his hand falling to the small of your back and pulling you in closer to his body, his scent enveloping you.

Azriel closes his eyes, breathing out a soft, “relax.” Your hand finds his chest, body slowly but surely melting into him as you do as he says and will your mind to stop wandering. Letting the soft beats of his heart calm yours, you decide to listen to your body, and fall into him, arm wrapping around his waist as you inch even closer, your chest finding his, tangling your legs until you can't know where you end and he begins. His grip on you tightens as a satisfied sigh escapes him, one heavy wing falling over your body, until you're impossibly close.

Your face now only a breath away from his, your nose bumping into his chin as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead and nuzzles into you, breathing you in. You almost catch yourself purring as you lay in his arms, completely surrounded by Azriel.

Tangled up in each other's warmths, sleep found you both easily, finally allowing you a few peaceful hours of sleep after the grueling weeks you've endured.

[ovaryacted]

FORGOTTEN DREAMS

PAIRING: DI!Leon x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: Coming back from his mission to Alcatraz, Leon wasn't expecting to have old desires from his past haunt him at his current age. Being his partner, you comfort him and try to fulfill his hidden wishes.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Smut. Porn with some plot. Angsty at the beginning. Brief talks of trauma. Established relationship (Leon & Reader are engaged/married). Assumed ages (Leon is 38, Reader is an adult so 25+). Breeding Kink (reciprocated both ways). Mating Press. Creampie. Unprotected sex (p/v). Oral Sex (f receiving). Dirty Talk. Multiple Orgasms. Domesticity. Intimacy. Relationship conversations.

WC: 3.6k

NOTES: Hey, surprise surprise. I don't know where this came from, but I just started thinking about older Leon as a dad, and paired with me ovulating, I came up with this. Wanted to get something out before the end of the year, so I hope you like it. Happy New Year from wherever you are! Comments & reblogs are always appreciated!

✰ ── 《 Navigation ⟡ Main Masterlist ⟡ AO3 》

Leon always believed he couldn’t have the things he’s always wanted, that he was destined for a life of misery.

Ever since that night in September all those years ago, he’d lost hope of the idea of the American Dream, a fantasy that was destroyed by the horrors of the same country he was forced to serve and protect. He once imagined his life would be different, living in the suburbs in a house with a white picket fence. Perhaps he’d have a pretty spouse, a few kids, maybe even a dog, he was always fond of bloodhounds and golden retrievers.

But of course, that wasn’t his reality.

So he accepted his fate the moment he miraculously made it out alive from Raccoon City, letting go of any control he had to change his life. He didn’t expect to live this long in the first place, foregoing any extensive plans for a future that remained uncertain with every mission he was sent on. No matter what he did, he remained stuck in a never-ending loop of dread, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop to be released from the torment of a life he did not choose to have.

That was, until he met you. He didn’t know how he managed to get so lucky to experience a sense of normalcy in his life, albeit it felt like he was always dreaming, waiting for the moment he’d wake up and see you slip away in his arms.

But you didn’t, you never left.

Leon wakes up every morning with the opportunity to take a glimpse at your sleeping face, taking every feature you had into memory. You granted him the chance to experience domesticity, something that was foreign to him at first, but he got adjusted to it and quickly began to crave it. You were what he wanted, a chance at peace in the hellscape that was his life. And over time, he didn’t have a doubt in his mind when he popped the question and happily slipped a ring on your finger when you told him yes.

Having someone waiting back at home was another added motivation for Leon to make it out alive, to return to you. All he ever wants is to be able to fall asleep in your arms after a long day, to have his head nuzzling into your neck and hear you giggling when his stubble tickled you too much. It was what he needed, and he silently thought that after all this time, as long as he had you he’d be happy.

That was why when he came back after his mission to Alcatraz, his new thoughts began to take him off guard. The same desires he had buried for so long slipped out of the crevices of his mind and began to plague him. The desire for more, for the things he never thought he could have. It was like his biological time clock was quickly turning into a ticking time bomb of anxiety ready to explode if it were suppressed any longer. He already had more than what he bargained for, he was alive, he had a home, and he had you. That should be enough, more than enough.

So why does he want more? Wanting anything else felt wrong and undeserving, so he never vocalized it. But you could tell something was on his mind and had been bothering him since he had returned.

It first started with the longing stares, where you’d often catch Leon looking your way a bit too fondly, as if he were taking you in for the last time before looking away. He was always an affectionate person, at least around you, but he was growing clingy. He was never that far away, usually holding your hand and caressing your fingers, cuddling up with you, and stroking your body whenever he could. Not to mention the sex, it was always passionate, always fun, and enjoyable, but recently it was as if Leon did it so frequently with so much vigor that you almost got worried.

No matter how calm he seemed, you knew him well enough to read him by now, and the small changes in his behavior showed you that something else was going on, that he was acting differently. 

“You’re thinking again”, you stated matter-of-factly, watching Leon stare off in the distance as he rubbed his bottom lip over and over again. Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the present as he glanced at you.

“I’m getting old”, he said with a sigh, rubbing your legs that were currently propped up on his thighs from where you lay on the bed with him.

“You’re not getting old, you’re getting older. Big difference”, you commented, hearing him chuckle under his breath. That wasn’t entirely what he meant, but he didn’t know how to say what he wanted without possibly scaring you away or jinxing himself.

“Are you happy? With me I mean?”, he asked you the question in a soft tone, not to signal that he was unhappy with your relationship, but rather he was thinking about something regarding you being together.

“Of course I am. You make me happy. I wouldn’t have said yes if that wasn’t the case”, you told him reassuringly, moving closer to him to hold him by the cheek.

“I guess what I’m asking is are you happy with just me, just us”, Leon said the question as if he were afraid, and you raised an eyebrow to gauge his reaction.

“Leon, if you want to get a pet or something we can. I think a cat would be kinda nice”, you said to him, and he looked at you with a wide grin before he laughed, actually laughed. For a second you’re assuming you said something wrong, but when he regains his bearings, he grabs a hold of your hand and runs his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Although a pet sounds good, that’s not exactly what I’m talking about”, he offered you a smile, giving you a second to think harder about his suggestion when he could see the lightbulb going off at the top of your head.

Kids?

“You’ve been thinking about kids?”

“Is it bad that I am?”

In a way, the revelation that Leon was thinking of having a family was surprising and took you off guard. When you met him, he initially struck you as a family man or someone who would want that down the line. So when he told you that wasn’t on his mind nor a goal of his, you took his word for it and stayed with him because that didn’t bother you, you loved him anyway. Now, it seems that he’s had a change of heart, and it sparked your interest.

“Well no…I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Thought you told me you never wanted them?”, you asked him, leaning into him closer and putting a warm hand on his chest.

“I said that because I didn’t think I could have them. But since coming back from Alcatraz…I don’t know, I keep thinking about it”, he shrugged under you, not meeting your gaze and looking down to the floor.

“I wanted a family when I was younger, but with all the shit I went through I just didn’t think it was possible, or that I could have it. So I simply forgot about it. But now..it popped back into my head and I’ve been thinking about it for a while”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, seeing the gears turning in his mind. 

“It’s probably the old man hormones or something, I must be having a mid-life crisis”, he was joking, trying to use his humor to downplay how he felt, the way he usually did when he was dealing with something that made him uneasy.

“Babe, if you’re thinking about having kids you should’ve told me. I don’t mind you know, I think it’s endearing”, you whispered to him, now holding his face in your hands and offering him your warm gaze.

“So you don’t think I’m crazy for wanting them? Now of all times? I don’t think I should be wanting more than I already have”, you shook your head at that, knowing that Leon would feel guilty for having desires, that he had no room to be selfish.

“I think you deserve to have everything you want, regardless of what they may be. And if kids are on the list, then that’s okay, it’s what you want”, you were speaking to him in a confident voice, the one you used when you were trying to gently knock some sense into him.

“I don’t even know if you want them, with me anyway”, his eyebrows furrowed, hellbent on the assumption that you wouldn’t think twice about avoiding having children, much less have them with him.

“You aren’t the only one who’s been thinking about them you know”, his eyes widened at your confession, and your smile turned a bit sheepish.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. Guess the hormones are also working overtime for me”

Leon blinked once, then twice. You fixated on the way the blues of his irises shifted, reminiscent of the clear sky after a storm had passed. But in reality, what you were looking at was hope interwoven in his eyes, a rare emotion that you’ve only seen a handful of times.

“Is that a yes then?”, you could see the way his lips began to curl up, an optimistic grin plastered on his face now, looking for an answer that would calm the excited beating of his heart. 

“If you want to try, then we can try. And whatever happens, happens”, you reassured him once more, feeling him sit up straighter on the bed to kiss you on the lips.

“I love you, you know that?”

“You’ve told me a few times, but I don’t mind reminders”, you grinned at him, finding yourself tackled to the bed the next moment with laughs filling the room.

-

The next few days felt like a blur, basking in the domestic bliss that otherwise would’ve been a rarity for Leon, he found ways to keep you occupied.

Just like he did now.

Currently with your back on the bed, Leon’s head was between your plush thighs, lapping away at your cunt sometime at noon. It was Sunday, a day of rest meant to hide away from all of your responsibilities and chores. But of course, Leon had different plans when it came to keeping you busy.

“Fuck Leon”, you said with a loud moan, a light layer of sweat covering your body as your fingers yanked at his head, bringing him closer to where you wanted him. Leon groaned against you, tongue curling around your pulsing clit and forcing an arch in your back.

He already pulled one release out of you earlier, right after he found you on the couch wearing nothing but a worn-out T-shirt of his you stole years ago. He couldn’t help but fall in between your legs, head against your chest so he could listen to your heart beating in his ear. The comforting rhythm put Leon at ease, his hands running down the length of your thighs and kneading at your skin while you watched whatever show was currently on the screen. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, already seeing the mischievousness he had written all over his face.

“What are you doing?”, your attention moved from the TV screen to the top of his head, focused on the movement of his hands on your body.

“Nothing”, he told you playfully, his hands were already slipping under the edge of where your shirt covered the top of your hips. He shifted higher up to place a kiss on your lips, moving to your neck and nipping at you gently.

“Just keep watching your show”

It was the last thing he told you before his fingers found refuge in the welcoming warmth of your pussy, rubbing at your clit as you quickly forgot about the plot twist happening in front of you. He was a distraction, as he always was, but you’d never turn him away, you couldn’t even if you tried. And now, you were willingly paying the price of his affection.

Heat started to build up in your lower spine the more you felt Leon’s mouth on you, his needy tongue flicking against every sensitive spot you had before burrowing inside you. It was muscle memory for him, knowing exactly what to do and how to make you fall apart with skill. With every moan you gave, every twitch and shake of your body, Leon drank it all, trying to drown himself in the intensity of your pleasure whenever he had you like this. In between your legs, sucking away at where you needed him most, it was where he belonged.

Your hips were against his face, grinding into him and having his nose press into your clit again, pulling another airy whimper out of you. His hair was wrapped around your fingers, trying to listen in to the shameless sounds Leon made when more of your slick entered his mouth. To him, you tasted like honey, sweet on his tongue like molasses. It was something that curbed his sweet tooth, completely addicted to a taste that only you created when he made you feel good.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck f-fuck”, you didn’t need to announce it, Leon already knew from the way your walls were pulsating around his tongue that you were getting close.

Slipping away from your clenching hole, his tongue went up to run circles against your nub, sucking at it in pulses and snapping the rope of tension in your gut. Your breathing remained stuck in your throat as your second release ran through you, your shaky thighs pinned to his broad shoulders and his mouth continued to prolong your climax. He didn’t stop until the waves of your orgasm calmed down and ebbed away, where only a light pleasurable numbness remained and a dumb smile was left on your face.

No longer feeling you convulsing around him, Leon gave your clit one last kiss before coming back up from between your legs, matching your smile with one of his own. Plush lips covered in your essence, his charm radiated off of him every time he achieved the feat of making you cum.

“Feel good?”, he said teasingly, meshing his lips with yours with a pleasant hum. His tongue curled around your own, giving you a taste of yourself that you graciously took and reveled in. 

“I feel good, but I can feel better”, you drew away from his face, giving him a smirk and tugging him closer to you by the waistband of his briefs. With a sneaky hand, you slipped your fingers underneath the soft cotton, gripping his hard length to touch him properly. You heard him grunt again, his breath hitching when you took his earlobe between your teeth and whispered at him.

“I want you inside me already”, you practically purred at him, a shiver running through him followed by another chuckle. Your vulgarity wasn’t new, but it was always something Leon found amusing.

“Yeah? You need me to fuck you sweetheart?”, he wasn’t asking you necessarily, more so reiterating facts that didn’t need your confirmation. Because you did want him to fuck you, you needed it and he knew it. Your hazy eyes watched as he stripped off his briefs, instinctively opening your legs for him, a silent invitation that you craved more.

“Want you to fuck a baby into me”

For a second Leon froze, his eyes widening at your words as they rang in his head. The phrase alone did something to him, brought out a new primal instinct he didn’t know existed until now. It festered carnal lust deep in his gut that shot in two directions, up towards his chest with his heart beating rapidly, and in the opposite way where all of his blood began rushing down south. He blinked at you, the blues of his eyes darkening to a sharp cobalt, and in the next second, he was on you so quickly it almost gave you whiplash.

The tip of his cock teased your entrance with two rubs before being sheathed deep inside in one easy thrust. Your body gave no resistance, welcoming the feeling of Leon stretching you out just the way you liked. Strong hands digging into the back of your thighs, he pushed your knees down against the mattress and closer to your chest, letting him slip that much deeper into you and leaving you gasping underneath him.

Dragging his hips back once before slamming back into you with intention, Leon fucked you without restraint, pinning you down against the mattress and ruining you for any other person, past, present, and future. He didn’t change his pace, filling in every possible gap, his dick hitting your deepest spots and kissing your cervix with every push and pull of his body. You swear you could feel him trying to breach your womb, the thought alone turning your head to mush. The urge of wanting him to leave his mark inside you grew like never before, your eyes rolling to the back of your head with another broken sob coming from your lips.

“Gonna fill you up. Is that what you want?”, he muttered, huffing out a breath and pounding his hips into you harshly to where the room filled with an audible skin-slapping sound.

“Yes, yes, I need it so bad!”, you felt him shift, forcing your knees down until they were parallel to your ears and effectively putting you into a mating press. His torso leaned more into you, caging you in and taking in your fucked out face with pride.

“Need me to breed you? Fuck a baby into you, huh?”, letting go of one of your legs to press his thumb against your clit, he rubbed against it and felt you clench around his cock. Your grip on the bedsheets tightened, bleary eyes looking up into him as he fucked you with determination.

“Yeah, I’ll make you a momma don’t you worry”

He said it like it was a promise, a sacred vow he didn’t plan on breaking. It was harsh fucking that was usually reserved for whenever you were both stressed and pent up. But now he was on a mission, making it his personal goal to not stop until he gave you what you both desired.

In the back of his mind, he was imagining what you would look like pregnant. The soft expanse of your stretched-out tummy that continues to grow as your child develops along with you. He pictured the way your body will start to fill in a bit more, becoming more soft and curvy in spots you didn’t consider previously. The heaviness of your breasts and the changes in sensitivity when they filled up with milk, something that he can’t wait to see and taste for himself. Every image that filled his head only made his cock throb and his thrusting intensify.

“Gonna look so pretty, all round for me”, he was lost in his thoughts, mumbling to himself and driving into you so good he hit that soft spot tucked inside. Your mind had turned to static, his words only bringing you that much closer to the edge and your legs shaking from how they were bent.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, make sure it catches, right here”, he placed a finger right underneath your belly button and pressed into your skin, the friction of his touch rapidly sending you into your next orgasm unexpectedly.

Throwing your head back against the pillow, you couldn’t warn Leon when you felt yourself coming again for him, your walls flexing around him and a wail filling the room. His thumb continued to stroke tight circles on your clit as he fucked you through your release, thrusting sloppily against you before cumming inside with a resounding grumble of your name. His hips were flushed with yours, grinding into you until he had nothing left to give, panting against your neck and kissing your nape.

You felt Leon slip out of you, gently putting your legs down back on the bed and his spend starting to drip down your thighs. With two of his fingers, he collected some of his release that spilled out of you and pushed it back inside your body, plugging you up with his digits to make sure none of it would dribble out.

“Can’t waste it, hold it there for me”, he said, making you keen and grip him tighter. Drawing out his fingers, he brought them to your lips, grinning when you wrapped your tongue around them to lick off the remnants of his taste.

“You think this one did it?”, you asked him tiredly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to give him soft pecks, growing clingy and wanting more of his affection.

“Hopefully, but there’s nothing wrong with a little more practice”, Leon smirked at you, giving you a wet passionate kiss and rekindling the flame of desire once more.

You knew that he wasn’t going to stop until he gave you what you both wanted, a happy family in a happy home. Of course, you had zero complaints, you’d do anything to make him happy and give him what he deserves.

Maybe just maybe, Leon will get his dream after all.

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Rumoured Nights | S.R

This was written for the lovely and wonderful @foxy-eva milestone celebration. Congratulations love! 💕 I used the prompt - “someone has to unexpectedly share hotel room with their favourite coworker - who apparently really likes to cuddle.”

Set during 5.21 Exit Wounds - this ep just lends itself perfectly for a one bed fic.

Summary - a case in a small town in Alaska forces you and your favourite coworker into sharing a room and a bed. And according to Morgan, Spencer likes to cuddle.

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Category - smut NSFW Minors DNI

Warnings - one bed trope, friends to lovers, sex dream, cuddly Spencer, swearing, making out, Spencer is touch starved, canon compliant death, meddling BAU team, interruptions, fingering, handjobs, penetrative, protected sex.

WC - 7.5k (don’t ask me how, she’s wordy)

“I’m not sleeping with Reid.” 

The comment was probably meant inoffensively, an off the cuff remark to make his coworkers laugh but instead only caused the youngest member of the team to blush furiously. 

Spencer Reid shrunk down in the armchair, attempting to hide his embarrassment from the eyes of his fellow team members who now all looked upon him. 

As far as he was aware, Morgan had never told the team what happened the one and only time they’d shared a room during a case. The confused looks being sent his way went to further that, thank god. 

It happened a few years back when they’d been on a case in a town equally as small as Franklin, Alaska where they found themselves now. Like tonight, the BNB was small and they’d had to double up. 

And Morgan had woken in the morning to find Spencer’s arms wrapped around him like he was the genius’s oversized teddy bear, and one of Spencer’s legs draped across him. 

Morgan had pushed the younger man off of him and apparently Spencer hadn’t even so much as stirred. It wasn’t even until a while later Morgan had filled him in on what he’d subconsciously done in his sleep. 

It was perfectly innocent. There was no more to it other than the fact that Spencer was painfully touch starved. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on how long exactly it had been since he’d had another warm body to share his bed with, but if he did he would be able to recite how long it had been down to the minute. 

It was an involuntary reaction. His subconscious must have gravitated him towards the body in his bed and held them without thought to who it was. In his unconscious mind, it didn’t matter who it was, just that he needed the comfort of holding somebody. 

He was glad Morgan hadn’t woken him because he would have been a hundred times more embarrassed if he had to remember his inappropriate middle of the night cuddle. 

While he relented to his own mortification, the rest of the team silently paired off. Garcia was quick to place her hand on Morgan’s arm, nabbing him as her roomie before anyone else had the chance.

Hotch and Rossi exchanged a look of understanding and JJ smiled at Emily, the brunette nodding back at the blonde in response. 

Spencer felt his stomach coiling into thick knots as he let his eyes glance across the room and land on you who had also noticed the non-verbal agreements taking place. You met his gaze and offered him a meek half-smile.

“Guess you’re with me, Doc.” You got to your feet, grabbing your bag off the floor. 

You tried to hide the look of sheer delight from your eyes, tried to pretend that this wasn’t the best outcome to you. There had always been something about Spencer that you found magnetic, his brain intrigued you and he wasn’t at all hard on the eyes. 

Through five years of working together you had kept your little crush underwraps, your poker face was second to none. 

So you had to play it cool. You couldn’t show how utterly thrilled you were that the chips had fallen in your favour. 

One by one the rest of the team stood with their bags and collected their room keys from the kindly innkeeper and headed towards the staircase. 

You hung back for Spencer while he procured the key and with an awkward smile he followed you to the stairs.

“Good luck, mama.” Morgan smirked at you, clapping a hand down on your shoulder as you went to pass him by. “Pretty boy here is a secret cuddler.” 

“Morgan!” Spencer’s voice pitched, around five octaves higher than his usual cadence. 

“She’s gonna find out sooner or later, kid.” Morgan winked at the younger man, causing Spencer to turn beet red again. 

You shook your head with a soft laugh, averting your eyes away from Derek and towards the bottom step.

“Uh, thanks for the heads up. Goodnight.” You started up the stairs, hearing Spencer following behind you. 

You met him at the door to your room and stood aside so he could unlock it. Like the gentleman he was, he held it open for you to enter first. 

It was you who first noticed the initial problem. When Spencer sidled up next to you a moment later he saw it too. 

One bed. There was only one freaking bed. 

“I’ll sleep on the floor.” He was quick to speak, dumping his go-bag on the dresser. 

“You’ll put your back out.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m not Rossi.” He scoffed, indignantly. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Spencer, your knee still hasn’t properly healed. I cannot in good conscience let you sleep on the floor.” 

“I’m fine,” he waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve been walking without my cane for months.” 

“With a limp.” You clucked. “If it makes you uncomfortable to share a bed, let me sleep on the floor, please?” 

“It is statistically improbable that I will let you sleep on the floor, Y/N.” He folded his arms across his chest in defiance. 

“Fine,” you shrugged. “It’s one night, Spence. We can share a bed can’t we?” 

For the third time in ten minutes, Spencer’s cheeks burned bright red with his embarrassment. 

“I, uh, you see…” he swallowed. “Morgan wasn’t lying about the cuddling thing. We had to share a bed once on a case and apparently I cuddled up to him in my sleep.” 

A smile tugged at your lips and you felt a little guilty given how mortified he looked. But honestly you thought it was incredibly adorable and plenty endearing.

Spencer was known for having an aversion to touch, always citing how many germs could be passed in a single handshake and how it was actually safer to kiss. So the thought of him hugging anyone made you smile, even if it was when he was asleep. 

“I just so happen to not totally hate that idea.” You tried to encourage him, not wanting him to be embarrassed. 

“Y-you don’t?” He stuttered with a frown. 

“It’s cute.” You smiled.

“I think the word you’re looking for is pathetic.” He sighed. “Who knows it might have just been a one off anyway. If you’re lucky, I’ll leave you alone.” 

Lucky? Some luck that would be. 

You hid your expression from him, the one that desperately loved the idea of him snuggling up to you in his sleep. You pushed it down, simply offering him a nod. 

You just might be disappointed if he didn’t cuddle you.

***

The two of you took turns in the bathroom, brushing your teeth and changing into your respective pyjamas. Usually you slept nude, or at the very least just in your panties, but thankfully you kept a pair of shorts and a tank top in your go-bag in case you ever found yourself in this position.

You were already in bed scrolling on your phone when Spencer stepped out of the bathroom. He wore a set of dark green flannel pyjama pants and a matching long sleeved top, buttoned right up to his neck. You smiled in amusement at him as he padded across the room.

“Why does it not surprise me one little bit that Doctor Spencer Reid even sleeps in a button down?” You giggled a little as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I get cold easily.” He shrugged, his back now to you. “And we are in Alaska.” 

You didn’t reply, simply watched him as he slid his legs under the sheets, his mismatched socks still adorned on his feet, and laid his long, messy hair on the pillow. He kept his back to you and he reached out and switched off the lamp.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered, tucking one hand beneath his pillow. 

“Goodnight, Spence.” You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes.

***

It was still dark out when you stirred in your sleep, eyes fluttering slightly as you pulled the duvet further up to your chin. You would have fallen straight back to sleep if it hadn’t been for the sensation of something heavily draped over your ribcage. 

You were on your back, the ceiling staring back at you when you opened your eyes. It was then you realised there was something hard between your head and the pillow. 

You looked to your side and blinked against the darkness, trying to adjust your vision. A messy head of hair was next to you on your pillow, so close you could feel the soft breath coming from parted lips tickling your face.

It was then you pieced together that the thing that was under your head and across your torso were one in the same: Spencer’s arms. One was tucked beneath you, holding you close to him while the other cautiously rested over you, just below your breasts. 

His right leg was bent at the knee, slung over your bare thighs. His whole body was pressed up against your side and it was then you registered that something hard was digging into your left hip…

Oh, your eyes widened. Oh. 

You looked back at the ceiling, body going rigid in Spencer’s arms. It certainly did not take someone with a genius level IQ to figure out what it was. 

You tried to ignore it, willed yourself to go back to sleep and put it behind you. Maybe you were still asleep, perhaps this was just a really vivid dream. In the morning you would pretend it never happened, not wanting to embarrass the poor man. 

But then the situation somehow grew even more awkward, if that were possible. Spencer nuzzled closer to you in his sleep, his face buried against your neck. His breathing started to grow frantic and his hold on you tightened. 

And then he moaned. 

Your stomach tightened at the delicious sound, equally trying to commit it to memory and forget it at the same time. But then it happened again, the sound deeper this time. There was no denying it was a moan of pleasure. 

The third time he made the sound it was followed by the whimpered utterance of the word fuck. 

And when his hips started to gesticulate, grinding his hardness against your hip, you had to do something. 

“Spence?” You hissed, wriggling in his arms. “Spencer, wake up!” 

His eyes shot open suddenly and he huffed out a breath. His eyes were hooded with his sleep, his plump lips parted in confusion. 

For a few moments he just laid there, not registering his position or the bulge in his pyjama pants. He simply stared blankly at you. 

“What happened?” He groaned sleepily. “Another body?” 

“No….no. Not work.” You swallowed. “I uh, I don’t really know how to say this so I’m just gonna say it…I think you were having a sex dream.” 

His eyes got really wide, really fast. As your words registered with him he also realised he was holding you, snuggled tightly against you. And at the same moment he also realised the part of his anatomy that had woken up long before his brain had. 

And it was pressing right against your side. 

He scrambled away from you suddenly, drawing all of his limbs close to his torso and burying his face into the pillow. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled against the cushion. “Fuck, I am so unbelievably sorry. I’m going to…” 

He trailed off and quickly rolled to the edge of the bed but you were faster and you managed to grab his arm before he made it out. 

“Spence, it’s fine. These things happen. Let’s just go back to sleep and forget it ever happened.” You gently guided him back to the mattress and he flopped onto his back. 

“This is somehow more humiliating than when I cuddled Morgan. At least then I didn’t have a, uh…yeah.” He shook his head, not willing to finish that sentence. 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Spencer. You were dreaming, and apparently it was a very good dream.” You couldn’t help but laugh, trying to cast light on the situation and make him feel less uncomfortable.

It had the opposite effect.

“I really don’t see how this is funny. I’m lonely ok? I’m so painfully lonely that the only kind of physical contact I can get with a woman is in my sleep.” He blurted out, his brain not quite awake enough to stop the words coming out of his mouth. 

The room fell silent. Spencer stared at the ceiling, you stared at the side of Spencer’s face. 

It wasn’t exactly a surprise to hear. Spencer never talked about dating or anything of the sort and although Morgan had speculated he just kept his exploits quiet, you were never so sure. 

Spencer was awkward and shy and had a hard time talking to anyone he didn’t know unless it was in statistics and facts. 

So it didn’t surprise you to find this out, but it did surprise you that Spencer was offering that information out to you. 

“I, uh…” you croaked. 

“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry that I had a sex dream about you but in my defence I can’t control my-”

“Hold up,” you cut him off, leaning up on your elbow so you could look at him properly. “Did you say you were dreaming about me?” 

His cheeks turned impossibly redder and he buried his face further into the pillow. 

“I assumed you knew that part. I thought you said…'' he wracked his brain.

No, you didn’t tell him he’d said your name. He’d added that part, assumed that you knew who he’d been dreaming about. Fuck. 

“You were dreaming about me.” You croaked, staring at what little of his face wasn’t covered by the pillow. 

“Y-yes.” He whispered. “As if the situation wasn’t already awkward enough. I can just go and sleep in the bathtub or something. The lobby even.” 

“Spence,” you gave his hair a gentle tug, trying to get him to look at you. 

Reluctantly he lifted his head and his eyes were wide and guilt ridden, his bottom lip cushioned between his teeth. 

“Yes?” 

“Do you…have you…” you couldn’t seem to finish that trail of thought. 

“Yes.” He clearly knew what you were trying to say. “It has happened before. More times than I care to admit right at this present moment.” 

“Oh.” You swallowed thickly. 

“So bathtub or lobby? How bad is this situation exactly? Does the bathroom put enough space between us or do I seriously need to leave the room entirely?” 

“My preference would be that you don’t go anywhere.” You confessed, causing Spencer to frown. “I mean, unless it’s closer to me.” 

“I…I’m not sure I understand.” 

“Sure you do.” You smiled, shuffling closer to him when he wouldn’t move. “The real thing will be so much better than even your wildest dreams, Spence.” 

An air of confidence washing over you, you finally got the chance to do something you’d been imagining for years and pressed your lips against his. 

He whimpered at the contact, momentarily dumbfounded by what was happening. But he soon managed to snap himself out of it and quickly took hold of your face and parted your lips with his tongue. 

As he deepened the kiss he rolled himself on top of you, already straining at the front of his flannel pants again. This time he was happy to roll his hips against you, really allowing you to feel him. 

You gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the sound down into his lungs. He held your face with care but the kiss was all frantic tongues and the clashing of teeth. 

It was years worth of pent up sexual tension for which neither of you had ever realised the other felt too, all spilling forth against the others lips. 

You wrapped your arms around his waist, fingertips brushing beneath the hem of his pyjama shirt, he moaned into the kiss when your hands glided over his back, across his shoulder blades and back down his spine. 

His own hands wandered at the same time his tongue hungrily explored every crevice of your mouth. His touch was featherlight down your biceps and forearms before falling towards your torso and following your lead, under the hem of your shirt. 

His finger brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, up and down and up and down the skin, his fingertips making a mental note of how every dip and curve felt beneath them. 

His teeth grazed against your bottom lip before nibbling on it lightly and then pulling away. He sat back and looked down at you, your hands dislodging from under his shirt.

His pupils were blown out wide and his lips were puffy and red. His chest heaved his haggard breaths while he fought for air. 

You smiled up at him, reaching for the top button of his pyjama shirt. He let your deft fingers do their work, popping each button in turn and moving lower and lower down his abdomen. 

When the final button was undone he shucked the material off his shoulders and tossed it aside. His long curls hung around his face, framing him perfectly and you didn’t think anyone had ever looked as delicious as he did right now. 

His own hands brushed under your tank top again, palm flush against your stomach for a moment or two before he hooked his fingers in the fabric and started drawing it upwards. 

He let out a feral moan as he peeled the top away to reveal your bare breasts beneath. You helped him get it over your head and it soon joined Spencer’s shirt on the floor. 

He was open mouth staring at you, not even trying to hide it. You rolled your eyes with a soft chuckle, reaching for him and pulling him close.

“What’s the matter, Doc?” You spoke as you kissed him again. “Never seen a pair of tits before?” 

“None that magnificent, that's for certain.” He mumbled in reply. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere Doctor Reid.” Your hands moved to cup his clothed ass. 

“Fuck,” he hummed, rolling his hips against you. “Keep calling me Doctor Reid and it’ll be over before it begins.”

You laughed at the insinuation, wrapping your arms around him and expertly managing to flip you both over so his back was to the mattress and you were straddling his hips. 

His hair splayed out against the pillow and from this angle you were able to get a good look at what the good doctor was hiding in his pants. 

You involuntarily hissed at the sight and his eyes never left your chest. His hands were pawing at your hips, cloying at the fabric of your shorts. 

You raised your eyes to his face and waited for him to meet your gaze. When he did you made a show of grinding down against his lap, his mouth falling open as a moan erupted from his lungs. 

The friction caused by his pants rubbing against him was nice in a way but he would much rather a different kind of friction. 

He reached for your neck, pulling you closer so your bare chests crashed together and he kissed you deeply. 

You continued to grind against him, feeling his hard member between your legs and wishing for fewer clothes to be in the way. 

But before you could think about helping him undress further, Spencer’s hungry fingers were trailing up your thigh and grazing beneath the leg of your shorts. 

His hand wove higher, he could feel the heat emanating from your core. His fingertips lightly brushed against your pubic bone and you whined into his mouth. 

“Is that what you want?” He spoke against your lips, his other hand gripping the back of your neck tightly. 

“P-please…” you whimpered, nibbling on his lip and trying to move yourself closer to his waiting fingers.

Spencer chuckled almost darkly, brushing his fingers over the same spot. 

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?” He whispered as your lips latched against his neck, sucking deep marks in his flesh. 

“About as long as I have. Please Spencer, please for the love of god!” 

The way you moaned so desperately for him made his head spin, no one had ever reacted like this for him. 

He inched his fingers nearer to where you wanted them, but as he was about to give you everything you’d been waiting for, an ear piercing scream reverberated in the room. 

You fell back as Spencer sat up, ears pricked and waiting in silence that now shrouded the room. Seconds passed that felt like hours until you both heard it again. 

“Help! Somebody please help!” 

“Is that…?” Spencer’s chest heaved in panic. 

“Penelope!” 

The two of you were suddenly out of bed and on your feet, scampering around to dress as quickly as possible. You threw a pair of jeans over your shorts, foregoing your tank top and tossing on a sweater instead before your coat. 

Spencer grabbed his pyjama shirt and fought with the buttons whilst stuffing his feet inside his converse. He grabbed his jacket and scarf on his way to the door, before quickly doubling back and picking up his revolver. 

You got your firearm as well, toeing on your boots as they two of you quickly dashed from the room. In the corridor you saw Morgan ahead of you, running towards the stairs. 

“You heard it too?” You asked as you ran to catch him. 

“You bet your ass I did.” Morgan hurried down the stairs with you in hot pursuit. “Pretty boy, wake the others. Y/N and I will check it out.” 

Spencer nodded though no one was looking at him. He fell back, his hand holding the gun dropping to his side as he made his way back to the other rooms.

His head was still spinning, dizzy with the lust from previous moments ago. Maybe this was a sign to him not to cross that line with his friend. The line was blurred, sure, but not yet so much as it couldn’t be rectified. 

All he could hope was that he hadn’t destroyed your friendship to the point of no return. 

You followed Morgan hurriedly towards the front door of the inn, guns pointed in front of you. You could still feel an electric current pulsing through your veins from Spencer’s touch, your lips still tingled from his kiss. 

You pushed it aside as a blast of frigid air hit you when Morgan opened the door and the two of you descended the front steps. 

“Help! Someone help!” Cried Penelope off in the distance. 

Morgan’s head whipped around almost three hundred and sixty degrees, eyes taking in the dark landscape to find what he was looking for. 

“Over there!” He barked, nodding his head towards two silhouettes in the trees. 

He quickened his pace, so did you. 

You found Garcia on her knees on the ground over the dead body of a man. She had tears streaming down her cheeks, her mouth hung open.

“I…and he…and then…”

“It’s ok baby girl,” Morgan crouched down next to her, stuffing his gun in the back of his jeans and helping her to her feet. 

You tucked your own gun away, leaning over the body and placing your index and middle finger to the side of his neck. 

No pulse. You didn’t think it needed to be spoken out loud. 

Garcia was sobbing, head buried against Morgan’s strong chest while he held her. The sound of crunching leaves alerted you to your company and you spun around to see the rest of the team running your way. 

Hotch and Rossi still wore their usual daytime attire but JJ and Emily wore sweats under large coats. Spencer looked an absolute picture in his pyjamas, coat and scarf hanging limply from his neck. 

He briefly made eye contact with you, but you broke it swiftly, glancing over at your boss who looked even more annoyed than usual. 

“Get her inside.” Hotch spoke to Morgan. “Someone call the sheriff.” 

Emily pulled her cell phone out and stepped away to make the call. 

“He knew we were staying here. This was a big risk.” Rossi huffed, glancing at the faces around him and lingering a little longer on Spencer. “Kid, why do you look so flustered?”

Spencer’s eyes widened and you saw him swallow thickly. You looked away, focused on the body on the floor. 

“I…” he squeaked, rolling his lip between his teeth. “I’m fine.” 

And if anyone noticed his voice was several octaves higher than usual, they kindly didn’t say anything. 

***

Over an hour later you all trudged back inside from the cold. The coroner had taken the body away and you would continue your investigation in the morning. 

Penelope was fraught, never having seen a dead body in real life let alone having to witness someone die. Morgan tried to keep her calm but even he couldn’t bring her back from this spiral.

When she stormed upstairs you all watched her go. Morgan looked over at you, his eyes asking you questions before his words did. 

“Can you…?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded. 

You moved past the others towards the stairs, you hadn’t so much as looked at Spencer in the last hour. He tried to make eye contact with you as you walked by but you kept your gaze forward.

Once you were up the stairs, Morgan sidled up to Spencer who was still watching you walk away. 

“You gonna tell me why you’ve been looking like a lost puppy for the last hour?” He cocked an eyebrow at the younger man. 

“What? I’m not! I’m…tired. I was sleeping when I heard Garcia.” Spencer averted his gaze.

“I hope that isn’t true.” Morgan scoffed. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spencer frowned looking back at him. 

“It means,” JJ stepped forward, an amused smile on her lips. “We’ve all spent the last five years trying to get you and Y/N to see what the rest of us can see.”

“And what’s that?” He turned to JJ. 

“Oh please.” Emily chuckled. “You think we don’t notice the tension between the two of you? Morgan’s been single handedly trying to get the two of you to bone for years.” 

Spencer’s cheeks instantly turned red and he felt his chest tighten with his embarrassment. 

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned his back on them and headed for the stairs.

“Go get her lover boy.” Morgan called after him and they all fell about laughing while Spencer shrunk away. 

He was at least glad you hadn’t been privy to that. But he didn’t relish the idea of seeing you right now, that would surely be one awkward encounter. 

***

You found Penelope pacing the length of her and Derek’s room, muttering under her breath frantically. 

You cautiously entered, not wanting to startle her. 

“I watched him die.” She spoke when she saw you. “I watched him take his last breath, Y/N.” 

“I know.” You nodded slowly, coming close to your friend and placing your hands on her shoulders. “I can’t imagine how scary that was for you.” 

“I just…” she whined a little. “When I was shot, all I could think was that if I die the last face I’m ever going to see is the man who killed me. I didn’t want that for him.” 

“You’re too good for this world, Penny.” You squeezed her shoulders. 

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to sleep again.” She pulled free of your hold and started pacing again. “Tell me something, anything. Something to distract me.” 

“Uh…” you scratched the back of your head. “You did everything you could to help him?” 

“No, not that. Not about this.” She quickened her pace, arms flailing about as she walked. 

“Uh…I’m pretty sure after tonight you can get Morgan to spoon you. All you need to do is tell him how scared you were.” You tried again. 

“As delicious as that sounds, I don’t think Kevin would be too pleased about that.” She was a blur of colour, like a rainbow flying through the sky. “Please Y/N, I need to think of something other than this horrible night.”

Goddamnit. 

You had the exact thing she was looking for, the perfect piece of information to take her mind off of this. 

Goddamnit, here goes nothing. 

“I almost slept with Spencer tonight.” You blurted out before you could change your mind. 

As expected she immediately stopped pacing, halting in her tracks and glaring wide eyed at you. Her mouth hung open like she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the right words.

You rolled your lip between your teeth, awkwardly waiting for her to say something. Slowly she stepped closer to you, eyebrows raising towards her hairline. 

“You…and boy wonder?” 

“Yes.” 

“It’s about time!” She slapped your bicep and you growled at the impact. “Wait…did you say almost?” 

“Yeah, we didn’t quite get that far.” You rubbed your arm from her assault.

“Why not?” She sounded incredulous. 

“Because…the screaming? The cries for help?” You huffed. 

“I…I ruined your first time with Reid?” She gasped. “No, no that won’t do. You are going to march back to your room and resume all previous activities. Right now.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” You shook your head. 

“Why?”

“It was a dumb idea, Pen. We’re friends, we work together.” You sighed deeply.

“Friends who are utterly infatuated with one another and have been for the past five years.” She clucked. 

“Guess my poker face isn’t as good as I thought it was.” 

“It is not. You make heart eyes at him every time he walks into a room. And he’s just as bad!” Garcia sounded exasperated. “Go to him. Finish what you started. For the love of all things pink and sparkly.” 

“Penny, I love you but it’s not gonna happen.” You shrugged. “I’m not ruining one of my closest friendships for one night of passion.” 

“Ok…I do not like thinking of boy genius and the word passion in the same sentence.” She pulled a face. “That’s like thinking of my brother…gross.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way her body shuddered at the thought. You were pleased at least you had managed to get her to calm down. 

“You gonna be ok if I go?” You smiled at her. 

“Morgan will probably be up soon, I’m sure he can protect me.” She smiled back. “Just let him down gently ok? Reid is fragile.” 

You rolled your eyes, backing away to the door. 

“Goodnight, Penelope.” You blew her a kiss as you opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. 

Across the hall your own door loomed. Your chest tightened as you pushed forward, hoping Spencer may already be asleep so as to avoid an awkward conversation. 

But you knew he wouldn’t be and that was confirmed when you entered your room and found him sitting on the edge of the bed as if waiting for you. 

He looked up from where he’d been staring at his lap when he heard the door close. He pushed himself to his feet, his jaw set tightly. 

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” He blurted out suddenly. 

“Me either.” You agreed, stepping closer to him as you got out of your jacket. 

You unsheathed your firearm and laid it on the dresser next to Spencer’s. 

“But uh…” he frowned, fighting an internal battle with his own thoughts. “Friendships are overrated right? I have plenty of friends…”

“Way too many friends.” You smiled and nodded as he reached for you, large hands cupping your face. 

“I don’t want to be your friend.” He whispered and then proceeded to crash your lips together. 

You immediately parted your lips and his tongue slid inside of your mouth while he pulled you back to the bed. You both fell to the mattress, you on top of him while never breaking the kiss. 

He didn’t want to waste a second, didn’t want to risk being pulled away from you again and so his hands quickly found the hem of your sweater and helped you out of it. 

You got his buttons undone and he guided you with a hand on your back, down to the mattress. He slipped the garment off of his shoulders and rolled himself on top of you, kissing you again. 

His hands wandered down your torso to the button of your jeans. His lips trailed to your neck and brushed along your collarbones. 

They moved lower, down to your right breast where he placed kisses on the swell of it before moving on and taking your hard nipple in his mouth. 

You moaned and bucked your hips to meet his erection in his pyjama pants. He popped the button on your jeans and you helped him shimmy them down your legs. 

When his lips moved to your neglected breast, you reached out and blindly groped him through his pants. He grinded against your hand, moaning around your nipple. 

His large hand glided back across the plains of your stomach before inching lower. His fingertips brushed over the waistband of your panties before disappearing beneath the fabric. 

His index finger located your clit and pressed firmly against it, another moan erupting from your chest. He pulled back from your nipple and looked down at you with a sinful smirk. 

He started rubbing deft circles between your legs, his nimble finger a thing of magic. Wanting to return the favour, your own hand slipped inside of his pants and you grasped the base of his cock in your hand. 

He moaned deeply, his finger working more frantically as you started to stroke him. He met your gaze, his lips parted and soft moans escaping between them. 

“F-fuck.” He stuttered, moving his finger from your clit and running it through your folds, collecting your arousal on his digit. 

His middle finger joined his index and pressed against your entrance. You increased your movement on his shaft as he pushed them slowly inside of you. 

“Jesus Christ.” You muttered as you clenched around him. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“Why the fuck have we never done this before?” He whined, pushing his fingers as deeply inside of you as he possibly could.

You whimpered, bucking your hips against him as he moved in and out of you hurriedly and your strokes of his member were becoming frantic. 

His head was already leaking with pre-cum and you swiped your thumb through it causing an animalistic growl to leave Spencer’s mouth. 

It was too much and not enough all at once. You needed more, you needed everything. 

His fingers slammed into you roughly, the sounds of your slickness filling the room. You twisted your fist as it moved up and down his cock and he was snapping his hips back and forth, practically fucking your hand. 

“Fuck…I don’t suppose you have a condom?” You panted, desperate to feel more of him. 

“Uh, embarrassingly yes I do.” He nodded, his cheeks flushing a little. 

“Why is that embarrassing?” You slowed your pace and Spencer slowly removed his fingers from inside of you. 

“It seems…presumptuous? It wasn’t like…I didn’t think…it’s not like that I swear. It’s, uh, a long story.” He stood up, locating his wallet on the dresser and unsheathing the small golden foil packet from inside. 

“I believe you, Doc.” You smiled at him as you shimmed out of your panties. 

Spencer’s mouth fell open at the sight of you laid bare for him. His hands started to tremble as he moved them to the waistband of his flannel pants. 

He wouldn’t look at you as he pulled them over his hips, down his legs and kicked them off of his feet. 

When he did look back at you, you were staring right at his crotch. 

Your chest heaved with frantic breaths and you were rolling your lip between your teeth. 

“Good god, Reid.” You smirked. “I need you like yesterday.” 

He shuddered at the desperation in your voice and shakily ripped the condom wrapper over. He moved closer to the bed again, holding the base of his shaft in one hand and rolling the rubber over his tip with the other. 

You spread your legs for him, welcoming him between them and wrapping them around his waist. He leant on his hands either side of your head, the veins in his arms pulsing as he held his weight above you. 

He eyed your face, an almost delicate smile on his lips and you weren’t sure what it meant. 

“What is it?” You asked him, reaching up to tuck his long hair behind his ears. 

“You’re sure about this?” He asked softly. 

“Very. Aren’t you?” 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He breathed. “But I really don’t want things to change between us.”

“Spence,” you brushed your knuckles across his cheek. “Things have already changed between us. But not in a bad way.” 

Linking your hands at the base of his neck you drew him close for a kiss. He moaned into your lips and you felt him finally pressing between your legs. 

He held his shaft again and guided him where he needed to be, his blunt head penetrating you, stretching you to accommodate him. 

He slowly sank into you, a long and shaky breath leaving his lungs. Inch by inch he ebbed deeper, your walls fluttering against him as your body made room for him. 

When he bottomed out he stilled, glancing between your bodies at where he was now sheathed inside of you. The look on his face was pure bliss, as though nothing in the world had ever felt this good to him. 

He lowered himself onto his forearms as he drew his hips backwards painfully slowly. But then he surprised you by roughly thrusting back into you. 

After that there was no holding him back, like a man possessed he started fucking you hard and fast into the mattress. 

He pounded against your cervix with each thrust, kissing you with a newfound ferocity. The room was encompassed by the sound of skin slapping against skin and your moans which were being swallowed by the other's mouth. 

He already knew he wouldn’t last long, but that was ok. He didn’t plan on this being the only time he fucked you tonight. 

It was completely unexpected, out of the blue for the mild mannered doctor to be such a stallion. But it was electrifying, dizzying, the way in which he pounded into you like his life depended on it yet kissed with such gentle passion.

Resting all of his weight on one arm, his other hand manoeuvred between your sweat slicked bodies and his finger pressed deftly against your clit again. 

He started rubbing intricate circles on your bud, hips still snapping back and forth, stretching your walls around his length. 

He had a few beads of sweat trickling down his forehead which was scrunched up much like his nose was. 

His chest was flushed beet red and his left arm which was holding him up shook with the exertion. 

Your legs tightened around his waist, walls clenching around his cock. A combination of his rough thrusts and ministrations on your clit we’re bringing you rapidly spiralling towards your orgasm. 

You assumed by the look in his face that he was close too and by the way in which he started to lose his rhythm a little, his thrusts becoming a little frantic. 

You drew him in for another kiss. It was slightly messy, teeth clashing together and tongues fighting their way into the other's mouth. 

He moaned deeply against your lips, his finger now rubbing against you rampantly.

“I’m s-so close.” He mumbled. “Can’t…don’t think I can…”

“Me too.” You agreed as you felt the tightening in the pit of your stomach. “Don’t stop. So close, don’t stop!” 

And he didn’t. 

The pressure was building and between his cock burying deep inside of you and his finger never letting up on your clit, you teetered on the brink. 

And then as if a volcano erupted, you reached your peak, moaning into Spencer’s mouth as your body convulsed beneath him. 

He felt you clenching around him as you came, causing a pressure to shoot through his member. He thrust deep one last time and whimpered as he felt the come shooting from his head in ropes, filling the condom. 

His hips continued to buck lazily as if he simply couldn’t get enough of this feeling. His hand fell from its spot between your legs and he collapsed on top of you, panting and sweat slicked. 

You could feel his heavy breaths as his chest moved against yours, could feel his heart erratically beating at his rib cage. 

He nuzzled his face into your neck, his breath fanning across your skin. His hips were still rolling, grinding against you not ready to stop despite how worn out he was. 

You stroked his cheek and moved your head so you could kiss him sleepily. He mumbled something incoherent against your lips. 

Eventually his movements stilled briefly before he cautiously pulled out of you. He rolled onto his back and peeled the condom from his softening member, tying a knot in the end and tossing it lazily in the general direction of the trash can. 

He shuffled a little, his arm finding his way beneath your head how you’d found it when you woke up in the night. 

You curled into him, resting your head on his chest and listening to the still slightly erratic beating of his heart. 

“I never like being friends anyway.” He mumbled, making you giggle. 

“Me either.” You slung your arm around his waist. “Whatever this is, it’s so much better.” 

He placed a kiss of agreement in your hair and snuggled closer to you as his eyes fluttered closed. 

He decided, as he drifted off to sleep, being a secret sleep cuddler maybe wasn’t so bad after all. 

***

Down the hall, Morgan flopped on the armchair in his and Penelope’s room, eyeing the blonde as she stared at her laptop screen. 

“What a night huh?” He ran his hand over his head. 

“Yah huh.” She nodded, bouncing a little in the bed as she did so. 

“You seem oddly chipper. Y/N manage to take your mind off of things?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. 

“Something like that.” A small smirk played at the corner of her mouth.

Derek sat up straight, scrutinising her curiously. 

“Spill.”

“What?” Her eyes snapped away from the screen and over at Morgan. The guilt was written all over her face. 

“You think I don’t know when you’re hiding something, baby girl? Spill.” He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his thighs. 

Penelope huffed out a breath, chewing on her bottom lip. 

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“I promise.” He frowned. 

“I think…I think Y/N  and Spencer might be…you know.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. 

Morgan’s eyes widened as he stared at her. 

“No way.”

“Yes way. Apparently they almost and then, you know, everything happened. But I’m hoping that they picked up where they left off.” She was grinning from ear to ear and it must have been contagious because a smile broke out on Morgan’s face too. 

“My man.” He smiled brightly, a glint of something in his eyes. 

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“I too know when you’re hiding something Derek. Now you spill.” Garcia eyed him up, Morgan’s smile only grew. 

“I’m just happy is all,” he beamed in amusement. “And I’m really glad I made up that story about him cuddling up to me in his sleep now.” 

“You did what?” Garcia gasped, wide eyed. 

“It started as a prank, just to wind him up a bit, embarrass him. And I thought if I brought it up tonight it would put ideas in his subconscious. Guess it worked.” Derek looked exceedingly pleased with himself. 

“Derek Morgan, you are evil! Pure evil.” Penelope cackled, shaking her head at her chocolate thunder and his mischievous ways. 

“I was just giving him a nudge in the right direction, he needs all the help he can get.” He grinned happily, pushing himself up and sighing wistfully. 

“True, I love Reid and Y/N but they are so oblivious sometimes.” Garcia shut her laptop screen and laid back against the pillows. 

Her eyes closed and as such she didn’t see the playful look spread to his eyes as his smile somehow grew, encompassing his entire face. 

“And with any luck,” Morgan shuffled to the bed made up on the floor. “Pretty boy still had that condom I gave him.” 

[hier--soir]

sleepy

pairing: joel miller x f!reader summary: joel is out like a light, but you can only think of one thing that will help you fall asleep. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] established relationship, f!masturbation, masturbating next to sleeping partner, unprotected piv, cockwarming, mild dirty talk, soft joel. word count: 2.7k a/n: this one is for the folks with sleep problems lmao. hope you guys enjoy—any feedback is appreciated!

Your bedroom was pitch-black, the curtains drawn to protect against any slivers of light shining in and disturbing either of you in the morning. Rain pattered softly against the roof, comforting you as you lay awake in the darkness.

Joel was dead asleep beside you.

His bare chest rose and fell with rhythmic deep breaths, soft lips parted to allow quiet snores to escape. After an hour or so your eyes had adjusted to the dark, and you were able to make out the fuzzy outline of his face and body, the way his forehead had smoothed out in his sleep, and how his hair pressed against his forehead from being shoved into the pillow.

It was something you’d never understood—the way most men could simply close their eyes and drift into sleep within minutes. Every man you’d ever dated, slept with, or even slept in the same room as; they were all the same. A few minutes of silence before their breathing evened out into soft snores, body relaxing into the mattress as they disappeared into dreamland. It wasn’t fair.

You’d struggled with sleep since you were a teenager. No matter how busy your days were, or how much physical labour you undertook, your mind whirred at night, endlessly awake until you’d exhausted all avenues of thought, and you’d wake the next morning with no recollection of ever falling asleep.

And when you’d first met Joel, you’d discovered it was much the same for him. Fierce nightmares plagued him at night, terrified him out of falling asleep until he physically couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, only to fitfully rouse him at multiple points throughout the evening. But as your relationship grew over the years, the pair of you settled. You got comfortable, and suddenly all it took was wrapping your arms around one another and you could both pass out with a snap of your fingers.

But on days like this—ones where you’d wiled the hours away reading and doing laundry and eating your meals alone and being terribly fucking bored—you felt old habits rear their ugly head, as you laid down for bed and found yourself wide awake. And yet you couldn’t be mad at him, didn’t even contemplate frustration or jealousy, because his day had been vastly different to yours.

When you’d woken up that morning to find his side of the bed empty, the cold sheets signalled that he’d risen far earlier than you. A note left on the kitchen counter told you that he’d been called out to fill a patrol spot for someone who was under the weather, and that he wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary for him to do favours like that for people, and so you’d gone about your day as usual, performing mundane tasks and chores, milling about with no real goals set for yourself.

And when he did get home, well after sunset, he looked worse for wear. Sodden clothes stuck to his skin as he kicked off waterlogged boots, mumbling under his breath about needing to trade for some thicker socks. It had been raining for hours. What started with soft spitting in the early afternoon had quickly turned into a thunderstorm, and Joel and Tommy had been caught in the thick of it all evening. Fat droplets of cold water oozed out of his hair and rolled down his face, slipping under the collar of his shirt to send shivers down his spine.

He looked positively miserable as he shed the soaked layers by the door, impervious to the sympathetic look you were offering from the couch. Only when he was down to his underwear and t-shirt did he spare a glance in your direction, gaze softening.

“Long day?” you asked softly.

“Long day,” he confirmed, not making a move to come any closer, lest he get any of the rainwater on you.

“Tell me about it,” you prompted, padding across the room to him.

“I’d rather hear about yours,” he retorted earnestly, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

And so you led him up the stairs and into the bathroom, detailing how you’d managed to get their washing done before the rain properly set in. And as he stepped under the warm spray of the shower, you told him about Ellie stopping by for a movie in the afternoon.

He hummed to signal that he was listening, but you could see how the day hung heavy on his shoulders. His head slumped forward under the stream, thick steam filling the air as he lazily rubbed a bar of soap along his skin with one hand and brushed his teeth with the other.

“Sounds like a nice day,” Joel smiled as he shut off the water, stepping out into a towel you had ready for him. You nodded, feeling somewhat guilty that he’d listened all about it, knowing his had been the complete opposite.

But he didn’t seem bothered, herding you towards the bedroom where he pulled you underneath the covers, pressing a few soft kisses to your cheeks before he relaxed back into his pillow. Cue: a few brief minutes of silence, breaths growing heavier, and then snoring. And god he deserved it. You watched him for a while, smiling softly at the sight of the man you loved so dearly, your life partner through thick and thin, getting the rest he so needed.

It was lovely… for the first thirty minutes. And then an hour passed. And then it got closer to two hours, and you could hear the leaky shower faucet dripping from down the hall, and the trees rustling against the side of the house, and you were so fucking awake.

The thought flashed through your mind, as it always did when you couldn’t sleep.

Maybe if you just….

Having an orgasm was the only thing you could think of that might tire you out enough to have you falling asleep in seconds. The way the muscles in your arm would get sore, and your entire body would go from tense to lax within minutes. It was enough to have warmth flood your bones and dopamine zap through your brain – and would definitely put you to sleep in a heartbeat. You felt guilty, though, as you contemplated it. Masturbating in front of Joel was common, and was something he often encouraged during sex, dragging your hand between your thighs and encouraging you to touch yourself while he got undressed. But doing it while he was asleep beside you was territory you’d never dipped your toe into before.

Is this perverse? Am I being creepy? What if he wakes up and is horrified?

Well, you told yourself. You just have to make sure that he doesn’t wake up.

Slowly, so as not to disturb the blankets too much, you slid your palm across your stomach until your fingers cupped your sex over your underwear. You stroked your fingers across the material, teasing yourself a little, trying to inspire some kind of horniness. And after a few minutes of gentle touching you could feel a warmth brewing in your stomach, a desire.

Carefully, you tugged your underwear down your legs before swiping your tongue across your middle and ring finger, lubricating them before you pressed them between your folds. You swiped at your entrance, collecting the small amount of slick that had formed there and spreading it across your core. A soft puff of air left your mouth as your fingertips connected with your clit for the first time, thighs tensing as you circled over it with fierce precision. This wasn’t about fun and games or prolonging the experience – this was about finishing as fast and as quietly as possible, and then going the fuck to sleep.

You took care not to move your arm too quickly, tensing your bicep to keep it still while your fingers circled and stroked and flicked against your clit, trying to find the perfect rhythm. A slow tightening began to build in your lower stomach as you discovered the right spot, the right speed, and you quickly pushed a finger inside yourself, collecting more of your slick before returning to your now aching bundle of nerves, the added lubrication making it easier to move.

A harsh exhale to your right made you pause for a moment, limbs stiffening as you waited to see if Joel had woken up. But a moment later his breathing steadied, and you relaxed, fingers continuing their quick movements.

Your forearm burned, muscles tensing with the struggle of keeping still but also providing enough friction to bring you to the edge. And as you felt your high approaching, you struggled to keep your breathing quiet, as heavy, laboured exhales forced themselves past your chapped lips. With your blood rushing in your ears and your middle finger drawing figure eights against your sensitive clit, you could feel it. You were so close, so fucking close, just five more secon—

“What are you doin’?”

The words were accompanied by a warm hand landing on top of your own, long fingers hovering over yours to see if he was correct; if you were touching yourself. A short gasp of surprise left you and your fingers froze, orgasm slinking away, disappearing from reach. Fuck.

“Shit, sorry,” you mumbled breathlessly, a little embarrassed to have been caught. “I can’t sleep and it’s been hours, and m’just trying to make myself sleepy, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” Joel’s voice was rough and gravelly from sleep, and you bit back a whimper at the sound of it, fingers twitching against your pulsing centre. He moved on the bed, shifting closer so you could feel the warmth of his chest against your side. “Should’ve woken me up baby, would’ve helped tire you out.”

As he spoke, his hand tightened over yours, pushing your fingers to continue moving. Shyly, you began to circle your clit again, attempting to make out his expression through the darkness. For a moment, you swore you could see him grinning.

“You had a bad day,” you whispered raggedly. “Need the rest, I—fuck—didn’t mean to w-wake you.”

While you chattered away, a thick finger dipped into your folds, stroking against the pool of wetness that rested at your entrance. Your fingers sped up, the warmth of his body helping you chase the high you’d come so agonisingly close to. He exhaled heavily, forehead dropping against your shoulder.

“Christ,” he sounded pained. “You’re fucking—soaked. Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?”

“Wasn’t thinking about anything,” you murmured honestly. “Just—ungh—just wanted to come, knew it’d help me fall asleep.”

“Poor baby,” he tutted, nosing at the side of your neck. “Need somethin’ to come on, hmm? Is that it?”

“Yes,” you mewled, hips shifting desperately upward into your hand now that you weren’t afraid of your movements waking him up. He dragged his hand away from you, using it to remove his underwear and then you could feel him against your hip, solid and hot and throbbing. He must have been listening for a moment, hearing you work yourself up. Your mouth went dry, stomach tensing at the feeling of him.

“Yes what, honey?”

“Need something to come on,” you repeated his words, grateful that he couldn’t see the sheer desperation on your face in the darkness.

A strong hand gripped your hip, gently pushing your body until you were laying on your left side and facing the wall. And then he was there, hot chest pressing against your back, lips dragging along the shell of your ear as he manoeuvred your legs into the best position for him to drag the aching tip of his cock through your drenched folds.

He exhaled heavily at the feeling, taking a moment to lube himself up with your slick before notching his head at your entrance. Your fingers were still against your clit, eyes closed as you waited for him to press in.

One arm slithered underneath your head, wrapping around your shoulders to hold you firmly against his chest and allow you to rest the side of your head on his bicep. His other hand held you still, fingertips pushing into your flesh as he flexed his hips, dragging his cock halfway into you. You gasped, pushing your ass back into him, mumbling some nonsense under your breath like ineedyou and pleasejoel and fuck.

He tried to control his breathing, but hot heavy puffs of air tickled the back of your neck as his pelvis came flush to the soft round of your ass, and then he was bottoming out, the full length of him slipping easily inside of you. A low moan dragged its way up your throat and you clutched deliriously at the arm around your torso, griding yourself back against him. But he didn’t budge an inch.

“Go on, baby,” Joel rasped against your ear. “Make yourself come.”

A soft cry of frustration left you, but your hand dropped between your thighs within a second. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing his length as you began to rub your clit in soft, slow motions at first. He murmured quiet encouragements in your ear with that deep, coarse drawl that drove you crazy, his thumb rubbing against your waist as you rutted against him. He was heavy inside you, bringing a delicious burn to your cunt that you always loved, a beautiful medley of pleasure and pain that had you careening towards the orgasm that had dangled so painfully out of reach for however long.

Joel’s teeth nipped at the sensitive skin below your ear, no doubt leaving a mark as he licked and sucked over the sore spot he’d caused. You gasped at the sensation, tilting your chin up to give him better access to your neck. He squeezed your hip appreciatively, leaning closer to sponge messy kisses along your racing pulse point. Your fingers moved fast against yourself now, circling and rubbing messily, and unintentional moans were spilling from your lips as you felt the coil in your stomach start to draw tighter and tighter.

“Joel,” you choked, hips bucking relentlessly as you searched for more friction, but he still didn’t give you anything.

“C’mon,” he urged. “I know it feels so good, honey, keep goin’. You’re so close, I can—shit—I can feel it, c’mon now give it t’me.”

It didn’t take much more than that for you to start twitching, body convulsing against him as your orgasm tore through you. Your arm burned as you continued to rub your clit, fucking yourself through it as your walls clamped down around him.

He groaned softly in your ear, grip on your waist tightening just a fraction as he pressed forward, giving you a hint of a thrust to prolong your high. You cried out, mouth hanging open in elation as waves of pleasure rolled through you. It was euphoric, and exactly what you needed. Your hand stilled after a minute, and then you were simply rocking against him, riding out the aftershocks.

After a while, the ringing in your ears died down and pinpricks of feeling returned to your fingers as you released the death grip you had on his arm around you.

You slumped against him, the only tension remaining in your body being in your neck as you tried to keep your head up. Your eyelids had grown heavy, and you could feel your body relaxing into the post-orgasm haze that you’d been seeking so desperately.

“Good girl,” he murmured, lathing soft kisses against the edge of your jaw. “Feelin’ tired now?”

You hummed sleepily in response, walls fluttering around him. He let out a low groan but didn’t move.

“Sleep, darlin’,” he said quietly, arms tightening to keep your back flush to his chest.

You could feel how hard he still was, cock pulsing inside you every few moments. But his body was heavy, arms like lead draped over you, and his head had already dropped down to rest against the pillow again. He was exhausted.

“Can we stay like this?” you asked drowsily, shifting your hips to show what you meant.

Joel squeezed your hip in confirmation, and you murmured gratefully. His warmth shrouded your body, filling you up and enveloping you, keeping you safe as your muscles slackened entirely, chin dropping to your chest.

A soft, stilted thank you was the last thing you could muster before sleep clouded your brain and pulled you under. Finally.

[snail-migraine]

Yandere Tartaglia

This man is like a dog when it comes to his darling.

Sweet and caring to you but to everyone else he is a dangerous maniac who will attack anyone who dares to take a step too close.

I imagine that he probably found his darling when they were just wondering the streets.

No food, no water, no mora to their name. Nothing.

Not even a home or a family to go back to. Absolutely nothing.

Looking at your malnourished body, he felt both pity and anger.

How could someone, anyone for that matter, just walk by and let you slowly decay like this?

Certainly not him.

He decided in that moment he was going to take care of you.

"Shh, it's okay. Don't be scared. You're going be okay, everything is going to get better I promise."

He basically just picked you up, put up on his shoulder, and said "This is mine now."

In the beginning he tries his best to keep his distance, especially since he doesn't fully know what you went through on the streets.

And also you don't know that he's just trying to make sure you're okay.

It pains him to see you flinch away from all of his touches, when you refuse to eat for fear of being poisoned.

He doesn't know who made you so paranoid but all he knows is that he'll try to make your life as comfortable as possible.

And if that means he has to keep at an arms length, then so be it.

But everytime he sees you cuddle up close with the mountain of pillows and blankets on your bed, he can't help the burning jealousy he feels.

Why can't you cuddle him like that?

Once you start showing signs of getting better, your temper tantrums lessen in numbers, and you no longer flinch quite as hard when he pats your head. That's when he decides that now is the time to let loose.

"Sweetheart! Where's my sweetie? Where are you baby? Come here and give me some smooches."

The man is so smitten for you.

You have one of the most powerful men in teyvat wrapped around your delicate little pinky and you didn't even realize it.

He showers you with all of his love, from gift-giving, to quality time, to snuggling up together at all hours of the day.

You and him are practically attached at the hip.

However once you start getting better he has to go back to being a Harbinger.

Most of his job just includes him moving around a lot and not being able to come back home to Snezhnaya all too often.

Which means he either has to take you with him or leave you back at home.

As much as it pains him to do so he chooses to let you stay back home in Snezhnaya.

You've only just got use to being home in Snezhnaya, it would be cruel to make you start hopping place to place just to be with him.

It tears his soul apart that he has to leave you, but as a member of the Fatui, he does what he has to do.

He decides it's best not to introduce you to his family just yet, and instead allow you to be guarded by Fatui members when he's not around.

What he doesn't know however is that you plan on escaping when both he and the guards are not looking.

You're not much of a hassle to begin with so the guards have a tendency to slack off whenever they feel like it.

Which usually means taking short naps during their long working hours.

All you had to do was figure out when they usually fall asleep and prepare.

When the hour comes your more than ready, every fiber in your body is practically jumping with joy at being away from Tartaglia.

You wade through the thick snow of your Homeland, with a giant fur coat engulfing your body as you figure out which way to go.

In your excitement you don't think to cover your tracks. Which is how, when Tartaglia came home to an empty house with nothing but sleeping a guard to comfort him, he knew exactly where you went.

"Stop fighting it.", Ajax's tone drips with his barely contained rage. If his iron-grip on you wasn't a sign of his anger, then his voice for sure was.

Words couldn't describe how enraged you made him. He'd thought you been getting better, that you'd grown past wanting to run away. Turns out the moment he let his guard down is the moment you decided to sprint.

How dare you?

How dare you play with the strings of his heart like this. He trusted you with his heart and you just rip it all to shreds like it never even mattered.

His footsteps crunch in the crisp snow. His face no longer looks like that sweet, smitten, puppy dog that you knew. No this Ajax is cold, dangerous. The Ajax you knew was gone the moment he figured out you decided to run away from the sweet domestic home life you were so graciously blessed with. The Ajax you knew was replaced with Tartaglia the cold eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui.

The one who served the Tsaritsa with nothing but blind loyalty and bloodied blades.

You should've known that this plan would've failed. You should've known that Ajax would've done anything to get you back into his arms. Oh but how hope can blind the weak.

Hope prays on our dreams and tells us that no matter what we will prevail. No matter how many times we stumble and fall. Hope will guide the way. What a load of shit.

Hope is what got into this mess, carried like a princess, your arms held together tight behind you, your 'Lover' stalks his way back to the mansion hidden deep within the dense Snezhnayan forest. The very same mansion that has held you prisoner.

Hope has done nothing but lead you blindly into situations that progressively get worse and worse. You know that so far Ajax has been gentle with for fear that you'd get scared and try to run away. Now that you have, you tremble at what he might do to you now.

With every passing moment your mind fills with worse and worse images of torture you'd havr to endure at Ajax's hands. All because you allowed yourself to believe in some shitty hopefulness. With every new image, your lungs tighten even more. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your legs twitch. Every bone in your body screams at you to run.

But again, that's what got you here in the first place. Didn't it?

Ajax darts his eyes down at you, taking in your shakey form. Your uneven breathe and beating heart all tell-tale signs of how scared you are. How scared you are of him. Your terror must've taken over all of logical thinking.

No matter how angry you make him he'd never lay a so much as a finger on you.

Never.

He sighs before kissing your forehead, the kiss is soft and loving. Reminding you of the Ajax you knew. His face falls from the once tight expression to one more somber and melancholy.

Stress and disappointment etched onto his features. He loves you so much, and he hates that he'll have to punish you. But he can't just let you get away with this.

He brings you up higher, digging his face deep into the crook of your neck. Taking in a whiff of the sweet citrus perfume he gave you. You don't move, your body turned frigid the moment he kissed your head. You don't understand what's going on.

He lifts his head up, looking you in the eye. His eyes mimic a raging sea, waves of blue and teal swirl together to make a his powerful gaze. The look in his eyes is enough to bring tears to your eyes.

You've never seen him look at you like that. With such sorrow and sizzling frustration.

He brings a hand up to your face, wiping away all the tears falling from your watery eyes as he coos in your ears.

"Oh baby, don't cry, there's no need to be scared. I'd never hurt you. I only want what's best for you. But I can't just let stunts like this go unpunished. I promise you, it'll be over before you know it. Okay baby?"