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shdwtouch · 4 months ago

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going forward I will most likely not be following blogs that are strictly dr/gon age affiliated*, and will not be writing da verses for any of my characters. multis, people I'm familiar with, etc will receive exceptions based on my comfort level (which, I WILL be reconsidering when I remake, which is to say I made decide I don't want to follow anymore, etc).

however, I am going to transition from being mutuals only to being mutuals preferred, meaning if folks wants to interact they can still follow me and reach out ! just know that I will most likely not be writing da verses (I'm going to preemptively state I may write CLOSED da verses for the people I am comfy writing with, but I can't confirm), and will require writing either a crossover or in a non-da verse.

lastly, if folks want to know why exactly I've decided to do this or feel the need to do this then ya'll are welcome to reach out and ask, otherwise I'm not gonna waste time overexplaining myself cuz frankly I don't think most people care and choosing not to interact with fandoms is something that's become more accepted.

generally, I refuse to feel ashamed. you either accept this or don't. it's not personal 🤷 if you need me to clarify that to you directly (which is valid !! I know I'd probably feel a bit anxious) then please don't feel shy about asking. I promise it is not you and is very much me. it is not my intention to hurt or alienate the mutuals I have who are writing / enjoy da.

this all being said: as it stands, if I am following you and you are a predominantly da or da centric blog*... you're in the clear 👍 you have passed the vibe check, as it were. there will definitely be another vibe check when I remake, at which point I may decide to part ways (as said elsewhere I'm not gonna cut people off just cuz they're writing da, so if you have other blogs or want to continue talking thats fine) for my own comfort, but that is an unknown point in the future so for now. just know I'm okay ! no issue here. carry on as usual, I support you and am comfortable.

which, I also just want to quickly state: I take responsibility for the content I consume. I am controlling my space with my best interest in mind, and will make choices as needed that align with those interests. basically, if you ARE writing da centric stuff and I follow you ? trust I am capable and aware ♡ I am a grown ass adult capable of assessing risk to my wellbeing, and using the tools I have at my disposal to minimize that risk and discomfort. trust that.

anyway. this was meant to be a short and sweet psa and it turned into one of my trademark overexplained rambles. here's a cookie for reading. sending good vibes to everyone !

*for the sake of my sanity (as in I realized this may seem like a vague way to categorize) when I say dr/gon age affiliated I mean affiliated specifically with the fandom / rpc (as in, I see you blogs that are not strictly affiliated with the fandom, you are valid), and when I say predominantly da or da centric blogs I mean blogs focused predominantly on da muses or a da verse (but having other options; as a note, these are the type of blogs I'm most likely to interact with, as they are feasibly easier to do so with).

#《 ° puffin.exe 》 im a puffin ! i dont do much #° mobile post !#i almost didnt add that second to last part but uh.#i have dealt with 2 separate instances of people talking shit about me because i chose to interact with da content #after explaining that it was not a dni / unwillingness to engage with the content but a general wariness from previous experiences #and disclaiming fully that i take responsibility for the content i consume and how it can impact my wellbeing #so yeah i do feel it necessary to add #whats the dr doofenshmirtz quote ?#if i had a nickel for every time the above had happened id have 2 nickels. which isnt a lot. but its weird its happened twice.#EDIT: also want to say that i havent had any bad interactions with folks on this blog about not wanting to write da #in fact quite the contrary !!!! which has been. so validating and nice tbh. people have been so understanding and accommodating ♡#the 2 experiences i mentioned have happened at different points in the last 8 or 9 years. not recently by any means.#like i want to express how grateful i am for the kindness and understanding i have been shown on this blog #in regards to my feelings about da content and the rpc. i dont think id be comfortable making this post if i hadnt received such support tbh

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giogiobb · 2 months ago

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Tease pt.1

Nerd!Armin x Reader

tags: teasing, drinking, tongue piercing (obviously), semi-public sex, oral fixation, cunnilingus, edging, breath play, overstimulation, gagging, mirror play, biting, mild pain play, smut

inspired by fanart from: @musapylsa

→ pt.2

You were called by your lecturer to wait along with Armin. “Yes, professor?” you said while impatiently waiting to leave class. “Your last assignment was lacking. So, I’m assigning Armin here to tutor you for a few weeks” he said while looking through some papers. You looked over at Armin who was looking at the lecturer absent-mindedly. “Is that okay with you Armin?” the lecturer asked looking up from the papers. “Yes, all good with me.” he piqued while nodding. You didn't have it in you to ask whether that was really necessary. “Alright, thank you professor. Have a good day” you said wanting to hurriedly leave. You walked out of the class not waiting to hear a response because you didn't have any interest in doing the tutoring lessons.

However, Armin on the other hand took any tutoring requests seriously. “Hey, wait up.” he lightly jogged towards you to catch up with you. “Listen Armin, I know you’re a teacher's pet or whatever but I don’t need tutoring lessons so I have to go now.” You said annoyedly. “Yeah well it’s not convenient for me either but I have to do it or else he will question my capability if he sees that your grades are still bad.” He said bluntly. You stared at him blankly, mouth ajar in shock because you didn’t expect him to be so straightforward. You always considered him to be a pushover because of how he looked. “Okay fine, let’s go to the library now if so. I have somewhere to be tonight.” He nodded and began following you to the library.

You sat across him at the table, legs crossed and bouncing under the table. You were bored out of your mind and your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing but he already gave you an annoyed look because of it so you took it off the table and kept it in your bag. Instead of looking at the words written on his book, you kept glancing towards his hand moving on it. He has really beautiful hands, you wondered and your mind wandered to what he can do with it. He then slammed his hand on the book to get your attention which pulled you out of your trance making you look up at him. “Are you even paying attention?” He said with a hint of sternness which you wouldn’t have caught if he didn’t have your full attention. “Um, yeah of course. Why would you think I’m not paying attention?” You said while giving a half hearted chuckle. He just gave you a light glare and continued on with the tutoring. You sat there intrigued by this side of him which you didn’t know existed. Heck, you even felt a bit attracted and wanted to know him more because of it. While teaching, he stretched his leg towards you brushing past your ankle. He looked up from the book to see you squirm a bit with a soft blush spread across your cheeks. He knew you were staring at his hands and he wanted to mess with you a bit more but thought it would be too mean to do so on the first day itself

After an hour, Armin decided to wrap up because he didn’t want to overwhelm you with the content by teaching everything on the same day. “I’ll be leaving now. See you tomorrow. Same time, same place.” He said while packing up. You didn’t even realize an hour went by. “Oh, uh sure yeah. See you tomorrow.” When he walked away you kept staring at his back. Though he wasn’t the tallest, you also didn’t realize that he had kind of a lean build under the baggy t-shirts that he wear.

Next day you meet him at the same time, same place wearing quite a raunchy outfit you’d say. After all, you were going clubbing after this with some of your girlfriends. He glanced you up and down before pulling out and patting on the chair next to him today. You walked over and sat on it feeling a bit proud that you made a nerd like him check you out since you have never seen him talk to any girls before. You pulled the chair closer towards him and the table to settle in. “Shall we begin?” You asked him innocently with a smile on your lips. He cleared his throat and pushed his glasses further on his nose bridge and nodded.

Almost half an hour into the tutoring, you started to feel bored from just looking at how his hands moved on the book with the pencil and how his adam's apple moved up and down as he kept teaching you the content. On the other hand, Armin also kept stealing glances at your chest that were slightly spilling out from your V neck top. He snapped out from both tutoring and taking looks when he felt your warm thigh press against his from the side. You moved closer towards him, both your arms slightly brushing against each other. Armin didn’t like this teasing as much as you thought he would. Solely for the reason that it wouldn’t be right to lean over to kiss and ruin you for trying to push him over the edge. He gripped the pencil even more, knuckles turning white. He continued teaching while she stared at the book. He moved towards your neck, ever so slightly just to make you feel his hot breath on your neck as he spoke. You felt yourself squirming and becoming breathless with unholy ideas running through your mind. You couldn’t take it anymore and moved your chair a bit away from him. You couldn’t risk ruining your black lace panties before the night even began.

Time passed slower than yesterday and he wrapped up. “Any plans for tonight?” You asked him curiously. “No, you?” He answered a bit surprised that you wondered about his personal life. “Yeah, I’m going to a club with some friends” You answered as you watched him pack up. “Enjoy if so. I’ll text you next week about tutoring. Goodnight.” He answered and walked away not waiting for your reply since you both exchanged numbers yesterday at the beginning of the tutoring session. You watched him walk away but was snapped out of it when you felt your phone buzz. When you moved towards the table to look at your phone screen, Armin stopped walking and turned his head a bit to take one more glance at your bare legs as you wore a mini jean skirt only. He left with a head full of dirty thoughts.

As he walked towards his dorm room, Eren stopped him just to drag him to a club. Armin has said no enough times but lost a bet the last time they hung out so he had no choice but to go with Eren after dropping his bag off in his room.

You entered the club lit in a purple hue of lights with white lights brightly flashing in different spots. You head to the bar and wait while your most confident friend chatted up some guy named Jean and got him to buy you all some drinks. While you were enjoying the drinks and dancing around, at the corner of your eye you spotted a certain blonde in the same green shirt you saw him in earlier. You thought to yourself that you might or might not be mistaken so you decide to follow the blonde you saw. He stood near a round high table with a goth girl and a frat boy clinking drinks. You watched as he downed the shot with ease and felt the burn of it in his throat reflecting on his face. He then turned around and you were right, it was Armin.

You felt quite shocked and a bit betrayed if you were being honest. Because the good boy image of him that you had in your head wasn’t somewhat true, but it also made you want to approach him. Yet for some reason, now that you find him attractive you felt awfully nervous. You turned around towards where your friends were and began walking away, until you felt a hand grab your wrist. You quickly turned around just to see Armin holding your wrist with his cheeks flushed pink.

He led you to the side a bit away from the crowd and leaned towards your ear to say “Can I kiss you?”. He caught you off guard and before you could register what he said, you felt your head nod. He leaned towards your face and began slowly pecking while holding your waist. Your hands roamed on his body and gripped his shirt to pull him closer. He felt the urge to deepen the kiss so he grabbed you by the back of your throat and tilted his head to the side so that his glasses won’t dig into your cheeks too much. You took a deep breath and began kissing him back deeply while your hand planted onto his hair pushing him closer. You felt his tongue swipe on your lips indicating you to open your mouth, and when you did his tongue began roaming your mouth like it was inspecting the inside.

Suddenly, you felt a warm metal in your mouth and you pulled away wondering what it was. Armin felt your body stiffen up as you pulled away and he knew exactly what it was. He knew that you felt his tongue piercing which was a surprise to you. Before he went in for another, he took one of your hands 2 fingers to make you swipe on his tongue to make you feel his piercing after he stuck his tongue out to show it. Your eyes widened because you didn't expect him to have such a provocative piercing. You moved your hand to the side of his face to grab it towards you to go for another kiss. This time you felt confident and he felt impatient to feel your lips again.

Both of you kissed for what felt like hours before you started dragging him to an out of order washroom. It hasn’t been in use for months because of a shattered mirror so it was convenient.

You entered with him and locked the door before heading towards the countertops. You started leaving kisses and hickeys on his neck while your hand roamed on his body under the shirt inching towards his growing bulge. He let out soft whimpers and moans while breathing heavily and gripping the edge of the countertops. You palmed his bulge over his jeans just to tease him, making him buck his hips up towards your palm. You let out a quiet giggle seeing his reaction and he knew you’d be just teasing him for way too long if he let you.

So he moved his hand towards the hem of your skirt and lifted it up revealing your lacy panties. The thought of you wearing it earlier to the tutoring lesson when you both teased each other made him feral. He moved his fingers to your heat over the panties making you bite your lips and breathe towards his neck. He felt himself lean towards your hot breath as he rubbed slow circles on your clit. You wanted to release so bad at this point you couldn’t be bothered to palm his bulge. Instead your hand reached towards his wrist to keep it still as you humped his hand.

To your dismay, he moved his hand away and made you lean on the countertop instead. He reached to your top to pull it down to your waist leaving your matching bra on. He grabbed one of your boobs while he left kisses and nibbles on the other leaving your nipple alone just to edge you. He moved one of his legs in between yours making you straddle it leaving you on your tip toes. Your heat was now on his thigh making you move your hips involuntarily. He kept pushing his leg towards you just to apply pressure. You felt your eyes roll back as you rode his thigh trying to catch your release, but as soon as you got close he moved his leg away making you whine.

He unclipped your bra from the back and circled your nipple with his tongue. The feel of his tongue piercing cold on your nipples made it even harder than before. After doing so for a bit, he began squatting down, leaving soft nibbles and feeling all your curves with the same hands that you were dreaming about since yesterday. His face finally reached your heat and he looked up at you while hiking your skirt up. He then gripped your panties from the sides to pull them down and off your legs just to stuff it in his pocket. You felt a bit shy now that you were bare and more naked than him. However, all that embarrassed thoughts went out the window when he began licking your clit with his tongue and caressing your folds with his fingers. You let out a moan feeling the touch you have been edged for too long. “So wet. Just for me.” He slightly smirked against your folds as he whispered just enough for you to hear. You felt your cheeks heat up more than you thought were possible when you heard. Not a minute later, he began eating you out as if it’s the first meal he’s having today. Your hand gripped his hair pulling his face towards your heat just to ride it. The way his cold tongue piercing kept hitting different areas of your heat made you lose your mind. Not too long after that, you felt yourself reach your first climax which washed over you making you feel so much pent up relief, but as you were catching your breath, Armin had other thoughts than to let you rest.

He felt your folds even wetter than before and plunged a finger deep in you making you pull his hair a bit harder than you wanted to. The thing about him though is that he loves and can handle pain very well. One reason why he has the piercing that he has. He added 1 more finger and began fucking you at a fast pace making you overstimulated. He stood up while still having his fingers in you and began kissing you while resting his other hand on your throat with a light pressure at the right spots. You felt yourself having a hard time to breathe because of it along with the pleasure he was giving you. He moved his lips away from yours and began leaving hickeys on very visible areas but you were seeing stars at this point so you could care less. You felt another climax approach soon and he knew as he felt you clench around his fingers. He helped you ride out your high while fucking you with his fingers leaving your heat pulsating.

He looked deep in your eyes as flashed his tongue just to lick his fingers that were dripping in your wetness. He licked them suggestively enough to make sure your breath hitched as you watched. You instinctively stuck your tongue out wanting him to do the same and worse to you. He took this as a sign to do the same and gripped the back of your throat before putting the same fingers deep in your mouth reaching your throat. It made you gag and have teary eyes but it burned so good as he moved. You swirled your tongue around his fingers tasting you and himself. It felt dirty but in the best way possible. He took his fingers out with a pop before unbuckling his pants to give himself a few pumps.

He held your arm and turned you around to make you face the mirror that was behind you the whole time. You faced the mirror and watched him from the mirror as he began lining his cock towards your entrance. He gave a few teasing nudges with his tip right before he sank fully into you. To your surprise, for a nerdy guy, he sure was packing. You felt yourself stretch around him which hurt so much.

After all, you have never had sex before despite how you presented yourself. You felt your eyes tear up and he noticed it in the mirror. He began hushing you as he slowly moved hoping it would soothe the pain. After taking a hot minute to adjust yourself to his length, you lifted your head up with hands on the countertop holding onto dear life to make eye contact with him from the mirror. His glasses were starting to now fog up ever so slightly making him look even more mysterious than usual. He held your hips and began fucking you fastening the pace. Your head dropped once again, but this time, he held your jaw and forced you to look towards the mirror so you could make eye contact with him. “Watch while I fuck you.” He lowly said into your ear and moved away after licking a stripe on your ear making you shiver. He began fucking you faster while gripping your hips enough to bruise them. Every now and then he would also give your round butt a squeeze making you moan and squirm.

As he kept fucking you, you became louder which could be risky because anybody could hear. He reached into his pocket and fished out your panties that he put in earlier. He grabbed it out and stuffed them into your mouth catching you off guard. He then grabbed both your wrists with one hand and your hair with the other. He pinned your wrists to your back while he pulled you by your hair towards his chest. He then moved it to your jaw holding your face in place while he fucked you deep with hard thrusts making his tip kiss the cervix in a way you didn’t think was possible. Your mouth was salivating so much to the point that there was spit leaking from the sides because of the way your panties were gagging you. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear making you all hot and bothered even more because of his breath as he fucked you.

He pulled out and reached for the panties in your mouth taking it out. It made you cough a bit before you began catching all the breath you lost. He then flipped you towards him and made you sit on the countertop between the two mirrors. When your butt touched the cold marble countertop, you felt so sensitive. You reached towards his shirt and tugged it upwards making him remove it. You admired his flushed body that was glistening in a thin layer of sweat. He threw the shirt next to you and went in for a kiss as he entered in you again.

This time he focused on getting himself off. So he gripped your waist and began grinding into you desperately. His pubic bone kept pleasuring your clit because of the position making you leave scratches on his back shoulders. This had him moaning and whimpering while yearning for release. He kept fucking you for a good while before he finally felt himself spasm indicating climax. You felt his thrusts become sloppier and held him closer wanting him to finish in you, and he gladly did groaning into your ear. While he kept cumming in you, he rubbed circles on your clit pushing you over the edge and making you cum for the third time that night. He had you biting his shoulder blade to mask the loud moan as he hugged you while you rode out your release while shaking.

You stopped biting and looked at him trying to find his eyes, but because of his fogged up glasses you couldn’t. So you reached towards it and pushed it up to his hair before locking eyes giving one final deep kiss for the night. Afterwards only you realised what you both had done and it left you dreading for the next tutoring lesson. While Armin on the other hand knew exactly what you both had done and couldn’t wait for the next tutoring lesson.

hope you guys enjoyed this.♡ྀི

word count: roughly 3400 words

a/n: lmk if you guys want a 2nd part cause i might have an idea on how to write one more part. :3

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corkinavoid · 1 month ago

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DPxDC Ask Around in the Morgue

Most times, Tim is not a fan of social interaction. If he can acquire the necessary data from literally anything written in text, without the need to actually talk to people, he does that. It's the logical thing to do, come on! People lie, or, even if they don't, they take ages to get to the point, and you can't put them on pause or set aside to return later. Some written resources lie as well, but that is, at least, way easier to prove by relying on several of them instead of a single one.

That saying, he can work in a team — Young Justice is great proof of that. Batfamily, not so much, but then, none of the Bats like working together. Because they are all hypercontrolling, manipulative, and paranoid.

And yet, keeping all that in mind, right now Tim is about to go and speak — using his mouth and words — to a GCPD mortician whom he's never seen or met before in his life.

All because of this report.

More precisely, because of the line 'pls come talk to me if u r a bat' that was inserted right into the file, just between the description of contents of the victim's stomach and the rather unappealing photo of the same thing. Tim supposes the placement was intentional — most people skip over that kind of information, jumping straight to the cause of death. Which is a homicide, by the way.

Not that it's anything unusual in Gotham.

Tim walks through the hallway, keeping his steps silent. Daniel Nightingale, the mortician, more accurately a pathologist, works graveyard shifts — very ironic and no less convenient — and most days, he does so all alone, so Tim is not expecting company. He is just keeping quiet out of habit.

And yet, as he gets closer to the autopsy room, he hears it. The chipper, amused voice from inside.

"You can't just make that shit up, I swear," it laughs, "Oh, Minerva. You were way too old to pull it off." There's a pause, and then it starts speaking again, filled with hidden laughter, "You don't say?"

The door is, thankfully, already half-open. Tim takes a quick look inside, hoping to figure out who's the other part of the alleged conversation, but the only person there — erm, the only alive person — is a guy in a gray uniform and a lab coat. Supposedly, Mr. Nightingale. There's also a corpse of an old lady on the table in front of him, of course, but Tim doubts she can hold up the conversation. A phone call? Or maybe he's just talking to himself?..

The guy raises his head briefly, turning to the door.

"Come on in, lurking in the shadows doesn't suit you," he calls, almost cheerful, and Tim pauses.

He's pretty sure he hasn't made a single noise.

Oh, well. Maybe he did. Maybe the pathologist has an alarm system in case of a zombie apocalypse. Maybe he sees the future. The possibilities are endless.

Tim steps inside.

"I'm here about your note," he says, cutting the greetings and niceties. The pathologist hums, his eyes still on the bare, skinless ribcage of the woman before him.

"Cool. Which one?" He asks without missing a beat. Tim stares; the guy looks entirely too nonchalant, given the circumstances, but that's not the only reason. Daniel Nightingale is way younger than Tim expected — twenty, at most — and he is... well, if Tim had a type, which he doesn't, he would definitely check all the boxes. Most of the boxes. A lot of boxes.

Okay, he's just good-looking, what is he even thinking about, this is getting sidetracked.

"There was more than one?" He asks because that's the logical, reasonable thing to ask. Daniel glances up at him. A tiny strand of hair escapes his pinned down bangs, and the guy huffs, shaking it away from his face. Shouldn't he be wearing a hat?

"Yeah, I put the bat alert in at least five reports I've written. Only two recently, though, so, if you could specify?" He asks. The loose strand of his hair moves all on its own, brushing itself up over Daniel's head. Then, one of the bobby pins comes out, hanging in the air briefly, and goes back into Daniel's hair, securing it from falling again. "Thank you, Minerva," the guy smiles politely, casting a glance to the side.

Tim is not sure what's going on but he has a hunch.

"I'm speaking about John Doe from last week?" He attempts, but Daniel only hums.

"Unfortunately, that doesn't narrow it down," he turns back to the table, looking down into the old lady's open abdomen with a critical eye. "Darling, do you think you'll be fine here all on your own while I speak with our dear guest?" He asks, almost demurely, and Tim is not dumb. Minerva is definitely the name of the lady on the autopsy table. The question is, has the GCPD hired a schizophrenic man during such dire times, or is the guy really some kind of ghost-whisperer?

The chances are, honestly speaking, 50/50. It's Gotham.

There's no response that Tim can hear, but Daniel straightens back up and takes off his gloves before turning to the other side, still away from Tim. "Mind cleaning up?" He asks again and then throws his gloves into the nearest bin. They don't land, but just as Daniel huffs and goes to retrieve them, the gloves float up from the floor like someone invisible picked them up and dropped them into the bin.

"Ah, thank you, Minerva," the pathologist smiles.

Tim feels an uncomfortable chill run down his spine.

"How many ghosts are in here?" He tries for casual, but fails spectacularly, judging by Daniel's chuckle.

"Five," he answers without any pause, "Six, if you count the nonverbal kid that's hiding in Page's cold locker. Anyway, John Doe?.."

A few of the instruments Daniel has used float up from the table and start moving towards the nearest sink.

Tim takes a deep breath.

Either he's gotten himself a new contact in GCPD forensics or a very alarming new meta. 50/50.

But Daniel's smile is 100 percent going to be a pain in his ass.

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dc x dp #tim drake #pretty sure this has been done before #i think there was even a fic with mortician!Danny #anyway #cork prompts #im so deep in the writer's block holy fuck

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stelashe · 1 year ago

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My niece was listing the days of the week: Monday ,Tuesday, Wednesday etc and then said :"and then they start all over again! Monday Tuesday..."and went on for 3 rounds and I was like "wow this is just what life is", smiling through the pain.

#I'm glad we have days if u have days and week after boring week you're alive thanks but also why does society for most of us #is just the same day repeating forever and so many of us live like zombies or perfectly happy little soldiers?#today i heard two retired people in their 70s talking one had just retired and was shocked he had a life #he said i worked all day my whole life now i realised i have one. i have time i can do things I like?!there is more out there?#and the other said yeah now u can live ur life and it was almost dystopian and kinda sad #and people will say duh ofc it's normal it was always like this before it was worse some people don't even retire(my whole gen?!)#missing the point completely of a working life that consumes and uses people even when it's not necessary at all like the only purpose of #being alive and the only way out is through labour and ffs If u enjoy it or are a fancy content creator selfmade I'm not talking about u

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jaylaxies · 2 months ago

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DARKNESS OF DEVOTION

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, dubcon, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), blowjob, fingering, bondage, degradation, impact play, usage of nicknames, breeding, possessiveness, stalkerish behaviour, lmk if i missed anything.

SYNOPSIS: Never in a million years you could have imagined your polished and perfect boss to have handcuffs in his office, and well, stalker tendencies. You thought you were just an intern for him, but he simply saw you as possession.

WORD COUNT: 2.6k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, loves! i truly have never tried the concept of dubcon before, but this is for @hoondrop who loves possessive hoon and @evermorehoon who preaches head pusher hoon agenda ! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

You were just the new intern at the firm where Sunghoon worked, him being your boss. You directly answered to him as he checked your progress each day, only—you didn’t know how obsessed he’s been with you from the day one, monitoring your every move, to the point he installed a camera at your work desk to check if you’re not texting any other guy—you were, but, he needs you all to himself.

Then came the night where everyone left the office and he asked you to stay back and do the work he assigned you, ensuring that you’ll get a bonus if you actually end up doing a good job. Little did you know that he’d come out when the office lights would go dim, just him and you in the building, and the handcuffs he had gotten just for you.

He comes around, leaning against the back of your chair to look into the monitor, so close you could feel the scent of his cologne, his hand resting on your shoulder as he leans in further when he feels you shake under his gaze.

“So, who’s the guy you were texting earlier?” He asked, and you stilled completely, “you do know that it’s not allowed during work hours, right?” He whispered, grabbing your chin, “right?”

You nodded as if in a trance.

“Y—yeah, I’m sorry,” he only chuckled at your reply.

“You don’t need anyone when you have me,” he muttered darkly, not giving you a second before picking you up effortlessly as you screamed, taking you to his office room, “shh, don’t make it hard for the both of us, kitten. Be a sweet fucking girl for me, yeah?”

“What—” You asked, suddenly breathless at looking at the man with a sharp jawline, fangs peeking through his plush lips and eyes dark, sweet moles scattered across his face, and specs perched on his ever so perfect nose.

He kicked the door shut behind him with the heel of his shoe, the loud click of the lock sounding like a final verdict, just making sure that you knew what you had gotten yourself into. You squirmed in his arms, but he didn’t even flinch, holding you against his chest like you weighed nothing, that he needed you.

Sunghoon set you down gently on the plush leather couch in his office, fingers brushing against your thighs a little longer than necessary. His eyes roamed your body like he was trying to memorize every detail, every inch of you.

“Good girls don’t lie, y’know?” He said, removing his blazer agonizingly slow, to the point you couldn’t help but stare at his physique, “and they don’t flirt with others when they know someone’s watching, yeah?”

“I wasn’t flirting,” you whispered, legs pressing together instinctively, rubbing against each other. “Oh, yeah?” He cocked his head, unbuttoning his cuffs, “then why did I see you giggling at your phone like a fucking whore in heat?”

Your breath caught, heat rising to your cheeks at the blatant degradation, “that’s not fair—”

“What’s not fair,” he interrupted, his figure looming over you, “is how much I’ve done to keep you here. You think I didn’t notice the way you smiled at that guy from finance? The way you smile as if he means something to you?”

You tried to look away, but he gripped your chin, forcing your eyes back on him, his voice dropped an octave lower, almost like velvet but with a hint of poison.

“I’ve been patient, kitten. So fucking patient, but tonight—tonight you’re going to learn who you belong to, okay?”

A glint of silver shining caught your eye—he had pulled the handcuffs from his drawer, dangling them by one finger with a smirk.

Your heart thudded violently in your ribcage, so fast that you feared it would break, “what? No! You can’t just—”

“I can,” he cut you off, “and I will. You can say no, kitten, I won’t stop you. But I don’t think you will. You want this, don’t you?”

You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t say no, your voice failing you, and he had you right where he needed you to be. Your body betraying you, every shiver, every tremble catching his eyes, and lord he thrived on it.

“You’re so scared, aren’t you?” He murmured, crouching down between your knees, his big, slender fingers gripping your thighs, “but—god baby, you’re so excited too, I can feel it. You’re already wet, aren’t you?”

You hated how right he was, hated that your pulse raced when he touched you, the wrongness of the whole situation just made it worse.

Sunghoon leaned in, lips brushing your ear, “tell me to stop. One word, and I walk away.” He challenged.

Followed by your silence, just the sound of your deep breaths filling up the room. You didn’t say it, you couldn’t.

“Yeah? Good fucking girl.” His voice was thick, as if he had won already (he did), and before you could say say anything else, his hand tangled into your hair, rough, no more teasing—and he yanked your head back until your breath hitched and your lips parted with a soft, involuntary gasp.

“On your knees, now.”

It was a request, but an order, and he chuckled at how your legs buckled, your makeup smudged already, blouse clinging onto your damp skin. He wasn’t pretending to be your boss anymore, the evil glint in his eyes no longer hidden by any means. He was something else now, an obsessive, unrelenting man.

“Don’t,” you breathed out, “Sunghoon, please. I—didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean to be a fucking tease?” He snapped, catching your wrist with a hand and shoving you back against the nearest wall, the frames on the wall rattling with the impact, “didn’t mean to smile at him? I have been the one taking care of you, kitten.”

“You’re fucking hurting me,” you snapped, voice trembling with fear but also fury.

But Sunghoon only grinned like a maniac, “good,” he said, eyes flicking down to your wrists, where he held you firmly, bringing them to the back so he could handcuff you hard enough to dig into your skin, “pain means you’re still pretending.”

Your body jerked, trying to push him off with your shoulder, but his reflexes were too fast, he shoved you back again, harder this time, your hands useless behind you.

“Let me go, you’re so fucking sick,” you glared at him now.

He leaned in close, nose brushing against yours, his breath hot, “you think I’m the sick one baby?” His fingers brushed between your thighs and right up your skirt, caressing your panties, “then why the fuck are you this wet?”

You let out a gasp, trying to move again but he held your waist to keep you in spot, the other hand now gripping your jaw so tight it ached.

“You think I can’t see what you’re doing? Acting like a fucking brat now that you have my attention, huh? Pushing me back like you don’t want me,” his lips brushed your ear, voice almost a growl now, “but your body, yeah fuck, your body loves this so much, you need to be out in your place.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re dripping for me.”

He spun you around, forcing you to bend over his desk, cheek pressed against the cold wood. He shoved up your skirt as you tried to kick backwards, but he only chuckled, catching your ankle mid kick to spread your legs wider.

“Keep fighting,” he murmured, dragging his fingers up your soaked panties, “it makes me want to ruin you more.”

You cried under him, chest pressed to the desk and fists clenching, “you’ll regret this,” you said.

“No,” he whispered.

You barely had time to process anything before Sunghoon’s hand tangled in your hair again, taking your head back and bending your body, his breath against your neck.

“There’s no room for regret here, we’re just getting started, baby.” He moved with control, dragging two fingers against the soiled cloth, “still wet? How fucking cute.”

Then his palm landed on your ass harshly, once, then again, until you were gasping and thrashing around.

“That’s for flirting with the finance asshole,” he groaned, “then this, for not wearing that white blouse I love so much,” he mumbled, as if you had any clue about his favourites.

Your legs almost gave out as you tried to get out of his hold but it was hopeless, you were cuffed, bent over, and now his palm was making your ass—and he was just getting started. You choked on a sob, the humiliation seeping through as he pulled your panties down with a rough pull, the cold air caressing your skin, his groan vibrating against your back.

“Fuck, so filthy, your body isn’t even denying it anymore.”

He stepped back for a moment, and you breathed hard when you heard the sound of a belt unbuckling, slow.

“Sunghoon—” your voice cracked.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, and you felt something hard smacking against your thigh—his belt. “You lost the right to talk when you whimpered for me the second I touched you.”

You sobbed again, moaning alongside with how wrong it felt to actually like something as twisted as this, you couldn’t even admit it out loud, you simply couldn’t.

You jolted again, a cry escaping before you could stop it, your legs gave out, wrists still bound behind you, cheeks hot with a mix of fear, shame, and something far worse—arousal that you couldn’t explain to anyone, not even yourself.

Sunghoon stepped in front of you, keeping his belt on the desk, unzipping his slacks like he had all the time in the world.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

You shook your head slowly, “n—no,” you cried.

That was a wrong move.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked hard—forcing your head back until you cried out, your neck exposed, your lips parted just from the force of his grip.

“You’re really testing me tonight,” he growled, stepping closer until the head of his cock pressed against your lips, “you wanna make this harder for yourself? Fine. You’ll choke on it.”

He didn’t wait, he shoved himself into your mouth with one hard thrust, the taste of him flooding your tongue as your gag reflex immediately kicked in. You choked, whimpering around him, but he held your head steady with both hands now, thrusting into your throat like he didn’t give a damn, pushing your head deeper with a low groan.

“That’s it,” he hissed, hips snapping forward, “take it, take it like a good fucking whore.”

Your eyes watered, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth as he used you without pause, his grip in your hair was bruising, keeping you exactly where he wanted you—his personal fuckhole, gagging on his cock in the same office where you’d tried to act professional just hours ago.

“This mouth doesn’t deserve to speak unless it’s wrapped around me,” he said, thrusting deep again. You gagged loud this time, trying to pull back, but he shoved you right back down.

“You hear that?” he growled, staring down at you, your lips red and stretched, your eyes wide and teary, “that’s the sound of you learning your place.”

He held himself there, cock resting deep in your throat while your body jerked, struggling for breath, your cuffed hands useless behind you. Just when your vision blurred from lack of air, he pulled out with a wet pop, strings of spit and pre cum connecting your swollen lips to his length.

You collapsed forward, coughing, drooling, body trembling—completely wrecked, but still wet, still breathing hard, and now looking up at him in a different light, and you gulped harshly in fear now that you knew you liked it, ashamed of yourself for thinking so.

“Aw,” Sunghoon mocked you, “already broken, kitten. You’re my doll, aren’t you?” He asked, petting you like a dog.

You didn’t even flinch at the touch, only looking at him as you took in deep breaths. He tilted his head, watching you with that same hungry intensity you’d seen behind his glasses in the office all along—only now, the mask was gone. He didn’t have to pretend anymore.

“You liked that,” he said quietly, almost in awe, like he was marveling at the mess he made, “and you’re still fucking dripping.”

“Please—”

“Shh, open,” he parted your lips with his thumb, going down to collect your wetness, and he pushed his soaked fingers into your mouth. You gagged, humiliated, as the taste coated your tongue with embarrassment.

“Good girl,” he murmured, thumb brushing your cheek in twisted praise as you struggled, “see? I knew you’d learn for me, just for me, hm?”

He stood again, towering over you, then pulled your handcuffs—forcing your upper body upright. You cried out, the strain on your arms sharp, your blouse now torn and half hanging off your shoulder.

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t. Your lips were parted, chest heaving, eyes wide and dazed as he spun you around to face him. Still cuffed, still naked from the waist down, legs trembling.

He gripped your chin and forced your eyes up to his. “Say it,” he whispered. “Say you liked it.”

You shook your head weakly, shame crawling up your spine. “I—I didn’t—”

He scoffed, eyes darkening, “I said,” he muttered, “say. You. Liked. It.”

You tried to speak, but you couldn’t. You tried to turn away, but his grip on you tightened.

“I—I liked—”

“Look at your cunt,” he dragged two fingers back between your thighs and shoved them in without warning, “still wet and clenching. Still desperate. You’re not even pretending anymore.”

You cried and he only smiled, finally kissing your lips, tasting himself on your tongue, tasting the tears that stained your face, and swallowing your moans. Sunghoon found this romantic, as if it was all he had ever wanted.

“Don’t cry now, kitten. You’re not sorry, you’re ashamed because you liked it. Because you wanted it, because you want more.”

“I hate you,” you whimpered, breath hitching as your thighs trembled again.

“Yeah? But I fucking love you,” he mumbled, sick and twisted as your body gave into him, moaning his name like a desperate slut.

That’s when he pushed you against the desk, giving you no warning before thrusting into your leaking little hole. You screamed and he laughed.

“Say my name, go on.”

“Sunghoon—fuck please—Sunghoon,” you moaned.

“That’s it,” he hissed, one hand gripping your hip, the other sliding into your hair, “my good, dumb little slut, all fucking mine, you’re mine, mine.”

He fucked you rough, it was deep, fast, and filthy. The mirror shook on the table shook and you cried out, drool slipping past your lips, every thrust breaking you down further.

“This is all you’re good for,” he growled, pounding into you so hard the glass fogged with your breath, “getting ruined by the man who fucking owns you, yeah?”

You came fast, embarrassingly fast, cunt clenching around him with no resistance, no fight, just pure ecstasy and embarrassment.

But he didn’t stop.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips snapping, “you’re so fucking perfect like this. Look at you—my favorite toy, crying and creaming all over my cock like you’re meant to do this, to be my fucking doll.”

He took your moans in, kissing you again, and again, till he couldn’t breathe anymore.

“You were made for this.”

And then he filled you again, his hand on your jaw, forcing your face to the mirror, “Look at yourself,” he panted, cock twitching inside you, “look how pretty you are when you break, when you submit to me, when you let me breed that pretty cunt of yours.”

“Sunghoon—” you mumbled against his lips.

“Yeah? You’ll look so good all swollen for me, for me, yeah?”

You nodded weakly, making him smile, “you’re fucking mine, do what I say now, hm?”

And you did exactly what he asked for—for you to be his.

Only his.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

@jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @hyacandoit @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl @dopedels @kaykay11sworld @glitterjay @skzooluvr @yongbokified

taglist open! send an ask or comment to be added!

#fic : darkness of devotion #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enha smut #sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen

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lovemomhatepolice · 8 months ago

Text

i'll make it fit - rafe cameron

navigation taglist requests

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small

word count: 1,8k

summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.

more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist

Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.

You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.

After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.

You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.

Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.

Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.

You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."

“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.

You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.

“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.

You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.

"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”

“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.

You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.

You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.

His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.

Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"

“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.

Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”

And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.

“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.

You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.

“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"

You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.

“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"

Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.

"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.

Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.

“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.

“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.

A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

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onepieceisreeeeaaalll · 3 months ago

Text

You’re a Yapper | One Piece HC

As a fellow yapper, this felt necessary. Ive been thinking about expanding this to include a few additional characters, but for now, here's what I've got!

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Kidd

Tags: GN!Reader, no specific relationship mention, could be prerelationship

Check out my masterlist if you like stuff like this!

LUFFY

Luffy didn’t even really notice it at first. Honestly, he’s a bit of a yapper himself.

If you get excited and start yapping about something, he’ll match you almost every step of the way.

It’s the passion in your voice that really gets him.

When he starts to really realize how yappy you are, though, is when it’s topics that don’t interest him.

He’ll still listen. Well, mostly. Kind of. Not really. This is Luffy we’re talking about.

But you’ll just keep droning on and on and on.

Luffy will just stand there, picking his nose, unsure of what’s even happening right now.

One time, he just outright laughed.

”You’re funny. Why do ya talk so much, anyway?”

You’re floored. Face, beat red. Eyes, wide. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, he grins at you.

”It’s fine, let’s just talk about somethin’ else!”

You didn't even have time to be mad. Because, right away, a boisterous laugh left Luffy at the expression on your face.

From that point on, you took any of those comments in stride and made sure to talk about things that excited Luffy, too.

And for Luffy’s part? He’s content to just tease you and watch the way your face scrunches. For totally platonic reasons, of course.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

ZORO

At first, Zoro didn't know what to think about it.

He’s used to people just talking to him. He swears he doesn’t have one of those faces - he’s made himself relatively unapproachable.

When you’re stoic and quiet like he is, though, people just seem to talk to you.

Luffy, Nami, Usopp - the whole ship is full of yappers.

And it's not like he really minds it. Sometimes it's interesting, and when he's in the mood for it, he has a good time engaging or making jokes.

It’s when he notices how you just don’t stop that he realizes this might be a problem.

He doesn’t always hate it. Quite honestly, he’ll easily fall asleep to it, and you don’t seem to mind.

It’s just sometimes when he’s already feeling exhausted from a workout that it can be a bit…grating.

”You just don’t shut up, do you?”

You were babbling about something - some kind of story, Zoro wasn't paying attention. He was trying to take a nap on the deck when you had just started, so the words slipped out of him faster than he meant.

That shut you right up, leaving Zoro feeling way more guilty than he anticipated it would.

He was expecting some sort of snappy comment, some sort of argument, which wouldn’t be completely unexpected of you. But you just went silent. And walked away.

Yeah, he was regretting it almost immediately.

Why would it matter, though? He’d get what he wanted - some peace and quiet, a chance to finally take a real nap on the deck again without any interruptions. No more training sessions interrupted with constant blabbering. Being left alone to his saké while the rest of the crew yapped and he could listen in.

But he found himself missing the way you’d sit next to him and how excited your voice would sound the few times he’d actually listen. He missed the way your eyes lit up when he’d give you a small nod of acknowledgment, and the way you beamed in delight whenever he’d follow it up with a hum or a question.

He eventually, very reluctantly, apologized.

“Yeah, you still talk too much, but it’s fine. Kinda missed hearing it.”

The moment you forgave him for snapping on you, he was more relieved than he thought he’d be to hear you rambling to him again.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

SANJI

Sanji was floored when you first started rambling to him. One - because you chose to rant to him. Two - because you just talk so much.

It wasn’t an issue. Not at all. In fact, it helped break up the day when he’d be busy around the kitchen.

He’d love if you just sat in a chair peeling potatoes while talking to him all day long. About anything and everything, really.

The sound of your voice is like a chime to him, as pretty as you are, and he’s happy to be given the privilege to listen to it.

He’s happy to engage. He’ll ask questions, add comments of his own.

Even if he wasn’t already completely enamored with your presence, he had already decided that having you here talking about whatever inane crap came to your head was better than him being alone.

He smokes a cigarette, taking small breaks to lean against the counter and just listen to you. Honestly, sometimes in amazement. It was impressive how long you could talk.

One time, after a particularly long rant about how stupid one character of a book you were reading was, you offered him an apology for going on a rant.

“Sorry for talking so much, just had to get that out.” You said, and Sanji immediately shook his head and laughed.

”Are you kidding? I could listen to you talk all day, gorgeous.”

It was such an easy answer for Sanji, and after that, it stuck with you every time you decided to waltz into his kitchen for another yap session.

He'd always have your favorite drink and snack at the ready!

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

LAW

When you first joined the crew, Law wasn’t worried about everyone getting along with you.

You seemed friendly enough. Chatty, maybe, but that just meant you’d fit right in with everyone else on the sub. Their personalities were far more vibrant than Law considered his own to be, and that’s how he preferred it.

It’s in the few first times that he was cornered by you that he fully realized just how relentlessly chatty you were. And you had selected him to be your regular target.

You were rambling. Ranting. Droning on and on about something that he was listening to and absorbing, but wasn’t necessarily interested in.

He replied politely, though, for the most part. Nodding, humming, giving small comments occasionally. He didn’t have a reason not to, and he was in a good enough mood.

For a while, he was okay with being mostly quiet just to let you get it out of your system.

It was only the fourth or fifth time that you were yapping to him over dinner that he finally interrupted.

“You always talk this much?”

He really didn’t mean it as an insult. Granted, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about having you talk his ear off while he’s eating, but he wasn’t necessarily bothered by it. It was just…regular annoying.

Yes, he’s ranked how annoying something is on a scale before. It helps him when dealing with people.

When he realized he messed up, he didn’t really know how to recover it from there.

You’d still talk, of course, but you stopped cornering him. You droned on to Bepo or Ikkaku instead. For some reason, that didn't sit right with the surgeon.

So, the next time you were alone together, he just kind of started talking to you. About something random he remembered you talking about. He still didn’t fully get it.

That started you up again, and if you weren’t so busy gesticulating with your hands and explaining whatever the hell you were explaining, you might have been able to see him smirk.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

KIDD

The Victoria Punk was no stranger to loud, booming voices. It goes without saying that some of the most boastful remarks came from the Captain himself.

When you joined the crew, it seemed nearly seamless. Some growing pains here and there, but overall, you'd proven to be a strong and capable crewmate.

The only thing, Kidd learned, is that you never shut the fuck up.

Whether it was excitedly recalling a battle you'd been a part of, showing off your weapons or abilities, or even just talking about the damn news.

You always had input, and it had slowly begun to grate on the Captain's nerves.

It was during one particular day at port where you were rambling about - oh, who knows? It was incessant. And Kidd was wanting to address the crew.

“Would you shut the hell up?”

He noticed the way you bristled, your face scrunched, but you said…nothing.

Thank god, you finally seemed to stop.

But you didn't start back up. At all.

This went on for a few days, and somehow the silence was as annoying for Kidd as the talking. Maybe even more.

Where the hell did that sweet voice go? The nonstop chatter about the new island or the mission? The bragging about how you'd taken down a Marine, something he noticed and nearly pointed out himself?

He cornered you on the deck the morning before you set sail, finally having had enough. Again.

“The silent treatment, you damn brat? You'd better start being a chatterbox again before I kick your ass.”

Yeah, you rub it in his face from that day on.

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gf2bellamy · 3 months ago

Note

omgg could i request bubbly reader whos always smiling and giggling but one day an officer (or whoever) says shes being unprofessional and too much and it makes her so so sad so she tones it down and spencer is so upset seeing her like this bc shes the light of his life

-🦨

light — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: sunshine!reader feels insecure abt herself, mention of officer saying she's being unprofessional a/n: hii 🦨 !! hope this is what you asked for <3

"Morning." Your voice was quieter than usual, your smile smaller, just a polite curve of your lips rather than the bright grin the team was used to. You walked into the conference room, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you took your usual seat.

Morgan and Emily immediately exchanged a glance.

Normally, your entrance was impossible to miss. An enthusiastic, cheerful “Good morning!” ringing through the air, maybe even a comment about someone’s coffee choice or how exhausted everyone looked.

“Morning, sunshine.” Morgan’s voice was gentler than usual. “You good?”

You nodded quickly, forcing another smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Thanks, Derek.” The words felt rehearsed, like a line you had practiced just to avoid further questions. You glanced up at him for only a second before lowering your gaze to the table.

Emily’s frown deepened as she studied you, before cutting her eyes to Morgan again. Neither of them were buying it. The door opened, and Spencer walked in, carrying two coffees. He placed one in front of you like he always did. A silent little tradition between the two of you. Normally, this would earn him that smile, the one that made his heart stutter in his chest. The one that felt like warmth on the coldest days. You would’ve reached for his hand, his hand, the one no one else was allowed to touch, and squeezed it, your fingers lingering just a little too long, just like they always did.

But today?

“Thanks,” you mumbled, barely looking up. You wrapped your hands around the cup, but nothing more. No smile. No touch.

Spencer’s spine went rigid. His fingers twitched at his sides as he stood there, processing, waiting, hoping, for a second longer than necessary. When nothing else came, he hesitated before reluctantly taking his own seat. Emily and Morgan’s eyes were already on him when he looked up, their silent concern mirroring his own. He swallowed hard.

Something was wrong. But it just got worse from there.

When Garcia called, her voice bubbled through the speakerphone. "Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite team of crime-fighting superheroes! Tell me, my loves, who needs saving today?"

Usually, you’d fire something right back, some exaggerated response about how she was the real superhero or how you were tragically in need of her brilliance. Instead, silence stretched for a beat too long before Rossi finally spoke up, filling the gap where your usual laughter should have been.

At that moment, even Hotch, who rarely indulged in team gossip, glanced at you, his gaze lingering longer than usual. A whole five seconds in Hotchner time. That was basically a siren blaring that something was wrong.

Your usual energy, the energy that kept them all going, was gone. Every word you spoke was muted, every sentence clipped.

You kept your gaze trained on files, your hands fidgeting with the corner of the page, and when someone addressed you, your responses were polite but distant.

Spencer watched you more than he paid attention to the case briefing.His mind ran through every possibility, every variable that could explain this drastic shift. Were you sick? Had something happened? Had someone said something? His stomach twisted at the thought.

Spencer caught up to you just as you reached your hotel room that night. You glanced at him, surprised. The cool metal of your keycard was still in your hand when he spoke.

“Can I talk to you?” His voice was careful and concerned.

You hesitated. You weren’t stupid. You knew exactly what this was about. The stolen glances from the team, the way Spencer had been watching you all day. It was obvious. You could still avoid the conversation if you wanted to. You could brush it off, say you were tired, say you had work to do. But a part of you knew you couldn’t do that. Not to him.

So you sighed, slipping the keycard into the slot and pushing open the door. “Yeah. Sure.”

Spencer followed you in, shutting the door behind him as you plopped down on the bed. You leaned back on your hands, crossing your legs, trying to look nonchalant, trying to make this feel like nothing.

“So,” you said, offering a weak smile, “what did you want to talk about?”

Spencer didn’t answer right away. He just stood there for a moment, watching you, hands fidgeting at his sides.

A beat of silence. “You.” The word landed between you like a grenade with the pin pulled.

Spencer took a step closer, his voice dropping. “You haven’t smiled all day. You didn’t laugh at Garcia’s joke. You didn’t even—” He cut himself off, fingers flexing at his sides. “You didn’t squeeze my hand.”

Your stomach twisted. He noticed. Of course he noticed. You looked away, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “I’m just tired.”

“That's a lie.”

Your head snapped up. Spencer was rarely so direct.

“You think I don’t know you?” he said, voice cracking. “You think I wouldn’t notice when the best part of my day just—just disappears?”

The honesty in his words punched through you. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. Because what could you say? That some stranger’s offhand comment had unraveled you? That you’d spent the entire day replaying his words in your head like a broken record?

Unprofessional. Too much. Annoying.

Spencer took another step forward, his voice softening. “Talk to me. Please.”

Your throat tightened as you stared at him. Spencer Reid, your Spencer, was looking at you like you’d just ripped the stars from his sky. You swallowed hard, forcing out a breath that barely made it past the knot in your chest. “It’s stupid,” you whispered.

Spencer shook his head immediately. “It’s not.”

You let out a hollow laugh, rubbing your palms over your thighs. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”

His voice softened even more, barely above a breath. “And I still know it’s not stupid.”That did it. The dam cracked, then crumbled, then completely shattered.

“Someone—someone said I was too much.” You exhaled shakily, finally putting the ugly truth into the open. “That I was being unprofessional—that I need to tone it down because I laugh too much, because I smile too much, because I don’t act like—” Your voice wavered, and you clenched your fists against the overwhelming sting in your eyes. “Like I belong here.”

Spencer inhaled sharply. You finally met his gaze and all you saw as fury. Not at you, never at you, but at the words that had managed to dull your light.He took another step closer. His hands twitched at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if you’d let him.

“Who?” His voice was controlled, but barely.

You shook your head quickly. “It doesn’t matter—”

“It matters to me.”

God. Why did he have to care so much? Why did he have to look at you like that, like you were something precious, something irreplaceable, something he wasn’t willing to lose to someone else��s careless words? You chewed on your bottom lip, shaking your head again. “It’s not like he was wrong, Spence.” You forced a smile, but even you could feel how empty it was. “I am a lot. And maybe I do need to—”

“Don’t.” The word was firm. Gentle, but unyielding.

Spencer exhaled slowly, like he was trying to steady himself. “You are not too much,” he said, each syllable deliberate. “And whoever made you think that doesn’t understand what this team—what I—would be without you.”

Your breath hitched, tears threatening to spill over.

“You make things better.” His voice cracked, and it nearly shattered you. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to see you walk into a room and not light it up?” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It—it hurts.”

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You swiped at it quickly, but Spencer had already seen. And that was when he finally moved.Slowly, carefully, he reached for your hand. His fingers curled around yours, just like they always did. The same comforting touch you’d given him a hundred times before.

Except this time, he was the one holding you together.

“Please don’t dim yourself because of someone who doesn’t understand how lucky they are to know you,” he murmured.

Your heart clenched. Your lip quivered. Spencer slowly let go of your hand, his warmth lingering even as his fingers slipped away. He didn’t move far, though. Instead, he lowered himself in front of you.

His hand hesitated just inches from your face, his breath uneven. “Can I?” he asked softly, his fingertips ghosting near your cheek.

You swallowed hard and gave the smallest nod. Spencer wiped away the tear with a touch so gentle it made your chest ache. But his hand didn’t drop. It hovered there, close enough that you could still feel the warmth of him. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. His thumb traced just beneath your eye, barely skimming your skin, as if he could erase not just the tear but the weight of everything that had led to it.

His voice, when it came, was a whisper. “Whoever said that to you… they don’t know you. Not the way I do.”

You exhaled shakily, blinking at him.

“They don’t know the way your laugh makes even the worst days bearable.” His thumb barely moved, brushing against your cheekbone. “They don’t know how your energy—your light—makes all of us better. How it makes me better.”

A fresh tear slipped free. Spencer caught it before it could fall. His other hand lifted then, resting gently on your knee. Another silent plea for you to believe him.

“I don’t want you to change.” His voice cracked. You bit your lip, trying to keep the emotion at bay, but it was useless. His words, his kindness, were unraveling you.

Spencer inhaled sharply, like he was gathering courage, and then, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Your breath hitched. A teary-eyed smile broke across your face before you could stop it. And then, without thinking, you threw yourself into his arms. Spencer barely had time to brace himself, but to your luck, he held firm, his balance steady despite the force of your embrace. His arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you close.

“Thank you,” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, your voice muffled. Spencer let out a breath. His hand moved in slow, soothing strokes along your back. When you finally pulled back, you sniffled, brushing away the last few stray tears that had slipped down your cheeks. Spencer watched you, his expression impossibly soft, his own smile small but so incredibly fond.

You inhaled deeply, gathering yourself before flashing him a gentle smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back tomorrow—back to being the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Spencer’s ears went bright red. He opened his mouth, whether to protest or agree, you weren’t sure, but all that came out was a flustered little laugh as he ducked his head.

The next morning, Spencer was already waiting for you when you stepped into the conference room. Two coffees sat on the table, one in front of his usual seat, the other carefully placed at yours. You bit back a smile.

Spencer was flipping through a case file, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration.

“Good morning, everyone!” you greeted, voice bright and chipper, just like always.

Morgan and Emily, who had clearly been watching you like hawks since yesterday, immediately exchanged a look before turning back to you.

“There she is,” Morgan grinned, arms crossing over his chest. “I was starting to think we’d lost our sunshine.”

You smirked. “Please. You could never get rid of me that easily.”

Garcia gasped dramatically through the speakerphone. “Oh, thank God! Do you know how hard it is being the only source of light in a room full of broody FBI agents? I almost cracked under the pressure.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the team, but you weren’t really paying attention.Because across the table, Spencer was staring at you.Not in the way he had yesterday, all worried and desperate to fix something he didn’t understand, but in the way he always did.

You sank into your chair, reaching for the coffee he’d placed in front of you. The cup was still warm, and when you took a sip, it was exactly the way you liked it. You glanced at Spencer, eyes twinkling. When you reached under the table to squeeze his hand, just like you always did, Spencer let you.

And just like that, the warmth returned. And Spencer knew, without a doubt, he would do anything to keep it shining.

#criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #🦨 anon

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zyafics · 4 months ago

Text

GIRL OF THE SEA | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb)

Pairing – Rafe x Mermaid!Female Reader

Summary — After leaving the Island Club, Rafe hadn't expected to find a mermaid on the beach.

Word Count — 1.0K

Content — fluff, mentions of nakedness.

Dedication — to @erwinsvow whom I talked about this concept months ago, and to The Little Mermaid (2023) movie that's currently playing at the corner of my screen as I write this.

Rafe hadn’t expect to find you.

Half-past eleven, he was leaving the Island Club and found intrigue in the distance. A glimmer against the harsh currents, banging against the coastline. He hadn’t given it much thought—until it looked like the sea was glowing like stardusts had fallen into the ocean.

Drunk, he trekked down the valleys of the beach, slipped against the coarse sand, and made his way to the shoreline. He hadn’t expected much—perhaps it was a mirage, a trick of his sight—but what he found was completely out of his realm of predictions.

It was you.

Naked.

Your legs stretched across the wet sand, your body bare of any fabric, saved for seashells covering your breasts. Your hair was damp, freshly pulled from the ocean, and your fingers traced the skin of your thighs, mesmerized, as if you had never seen such a thing.

Because you hadn’t.

You were a mermaid, sworn to keep away from the surface world, to stay off humans. But you were fascinated—you saw the Island Club’s fireworks, the twinkles in the sky, and the bare beach, voided of humans, voided of predators, that you just wanted a taste for it yourself.

Somehow, you pulled to the coast, dragged your tail against the sand, pulled your weight till it found dry land. Afterward, with permission of a secret potion, you digested the ingredients and shifted into legs. Human legs. You gasped at the fascination of it being attached to your own, that they were yours to control.

Rafe followed the trail. He saw the thick tail outlined against the sodden sand, before being transformed into a pair of legs. It looked odd, but he wasn’t going to assume mermaids; he always thought they were a myth, a folktale.

He just thought you were crazy.

“Hello?” Rafe asks with a slur of his words, blinking in surprise at your lack of modesty. You look up, eyes twinkling, and a smile curves at your lips. You don’t have a sense of danger, a sense of fear for the humans everyone warned you about.

Instead, you were intrigued, your eyes trailing down the length of Rafe’s body, the way he held the bottle of beer in his hands. You don’t have that back in the ocean.

“Legs,” you point at him, and for a second, Rafe grows self-conscious.

“What?” He gapes.

“You have legs,” you repeat, a grin broadening your face with childlike wonder. Your fingers shifts, pointing at yourself. “Me too! Isn’t it wonderful?”

Rafe assumes you’re high. That you’ve taken something from the Pogues, and you’re here, in the middle of the beach, alone, naked, with no consideration other than the fact that you had legs. Whatever you took, he wants a taste of it himself.

But it’s also odd. Because you didn’t look intoxicated. Your eyes are a little wild, but that’s from enthusiasm, from curiosity, not from narcotics. They’re clear, they’re wide, and they’re wrinkled with this spark of joy Rafe had never seen in a human before.

“Yeah,” Rafe drawls slowly, “Yeah, they’re good.”

You beam, your hands propping your upper body on the sand as you attempt to pull yourself up. On the first try, you fell miserably, landing harshly against the coarse grains, and an oomph leaves your throat. Rafe winces at the sight, at the pain you must endure, but all you do is laugh.

You’re laughing because you never done this before.

You try again, but your knees buckle under your weight. Gravity, it seems, is against you. But you’re resilient. You pull yourself up, several times if necessary, so you can finally use the opportunity to walk on land as you always dreamed of.

You fall again.

“Alright, alright,” Rafe steps forward, and wraps his arm around your waist, helping to your feet. “Come on, Bambi, it ain’t that hard,” he says in a light tone, and you smile.

“It’s new,” you confess in a soft, sirened whisper.

“Yeah?” He asks, turning to you, your face centimeters from his. The glow of your expression is enchanting, like all the right proportions, all the right features that Rafe had always seen in a woman. It steals his breath away. “This your first time walkin’?”

You grin, “Isn’t it amazing?”

“Yeah, yeah, amazing,” he shakes his head, holding you upright, as you slowly find your footing. Your feet touch the sand, and it sinks under your weight, grains trickling between your toes. Toes, things you’ve never had before, and you wiggle them. Oh, it feels glorious.

“Good?” Rafe asks, recognizing now that it’s not going to be easy helping you out of this beach. He isn’t sure if you’re not drunk, if you’re not doped up, but he is sure that there’s absolutely no way you’re in the right state of mind to tell him which direction is your home.

He has to take you back to Tannyhill.

But he can’t if you’re completely naked, hidden modesty behind two shells that look like they were strung together from a costume.

He has to help.

He doesn’t know why he wants to.

Shrugging off his jacket, Rafe steadily lets you go to cover you up. Thankfully, the jacket falls mid-thigh, covering up the essentials so that you won’t get arrested for public indecency.

You feel the weight of the fabrics on your shoulders, unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. It’s a luxury to receive items like these, to cover yourself up, and it’s only done in the case of mating.

You turn to him, loose strands of hair falling over your face, delicately dancing over your eyes, in a way that makes you have this innocence, natural beauty. “Where I come from, this is considered a marriage proposal,” you declare, using your arms to wrap around his bicep, using Rafe as a walking crunch.

The corner of his mouth lifts, amused. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“Let’s get you covered up first, and we can talk about that later.”

You nod, agreeing, and as you plant a small kiss on his cheek, Rafe pulls you inland, across his beach, to his car, and back to Tannyhill.

He’ll figure out everything later.

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

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kxsagi · 3 months ago

Text

“𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚”

a/n: i am so down bad for dante sparda (mainly the version of him in the new netflix anime)

not only is he OP, white-haired, muscular, ripped, and tall, he’s also funny, sarcastic, protective, caring, and mine

(i am not lying when i tell you i binge watched the entire season 1, 8 episodes in one sitting and it took 3.5 hours)

definitely suggestive content inside btw!

the motel room smells like cheap smoke and cheaper whiskey. the walls are paper-thin, the flickering neon light from the “VACANCY” sign outside bleeding through the curtains like a pulsing headache. you’d almost rather be back in that alley surrounded by demon guts. almost.

dante lounges on the bed like he owns the place. boots kicked off, jacket discarded, and shirt peeled halfway up his torso, showing off a slash across his ribs that’s still bleeding. of course, the smug bastard doesn’t even flinch because he can heal himself.

you drop the med kit on the table with a hard thunk.

“you wanna explain why you dropped in like a dramatic ex during my mission?” you ask, tone sharp. “or do you just enjoy ruining my night?”

he grins, slow and infuriating. “missed me, sweetheart?”

“missed the way you swing in late, steal my kills, and leave me cleaning up your mess? yeah. like a migraine.”

he sits up, wincing slightly as he does. “c’mon, don’t be like that. i did save your ass.”

“i had it handled.”

“sure you did.” he pats the bed next to him. “now come on. patch me up before i start bleeding on these nice sheets.”

you snort. “did you forget that you can heal yourself? plus, the sheets are already stained. pretty sure someone died on this mattress last week.”

“perfect ambiance for us then.”

despite every instinct screaming at you to leave him to suffer, you grab the whiskey and some gauze and make your way over. kneeling beside him, you press the rag against the wound, maybe a little rougher than necessary.

he hisses through his teeth, eyes flashing. “you mad at me or just into pain?”

“depends. you like it rough, sparda?”

his gaze locks on yours. heat rolls off him like a storm. “with the right person? always.”

your breath catches in your throat, but you don’t let it show. not entirely. instead, you press harder against the wound, watching his muscles tense beneath your fingers.

“tell me,” you say, voice lower now. “do you flirt with every hunter who tries to kill you?”

“just the ones who make it interesting.”

you should roll your eyes. should finish patching him up and walk away like none of this is getting under your skin. but it is. he’s cocky and reckless and stupidly attractive in that bad decision kind of way, the kind that ends with broken furniture and bruised lips.

your hands drift lower, fingers brushing against the edge of his belt as you check for more injuries.

he leans in, breath warm against your ear. “you gonna keep touching me like that, or are you just teasing?”

you glance at him. “if i said i was teasing?”

he grins, eyes dark. “then i’d say tease harder.”

you’re close. too close. his hand comes up, slow and deliberate, thumb grazing your cheek like a challenge. you lean in, not kissing him yet, just hovering, letting the tension coil tighter.

“you’re dangerous,” you murmur.

“baby,” he says, voice low, “i’m the safest bad decision you’ll ever make.”

the space between you snaps. your lips crash into his, all heat and teeth and frustration. his hand tangles in your hair, the other gripping your hip, dragging you onto his lap like he’s been waiting all night for this moment.

you grind down, and he groans against your mouth.

"fuck. been thinking about this since that warehouse job,” he mutters, lips trailing down your jaw. “you remember that? when you nearly stabbed me?”

“you deserved it.”

he chuckles, low and rough. “probably.”

his mouth finds your throat, kissing a line down to your collarbone. your hands fumble at the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head, tossing it aside like it’s in the way (because it is). your fingers trace the fresh bandage, then drift lower, skimming over his abs.

“you really gonna fuck me on a bullet wound?” you ask, teasing.

“you really gonna stop me?”

his tone is cocky, but there’s something feral behind it. like he needs this. needs you. not just for release, but to feel alive again after facing death one too many times. maybe you need it too.

you roll your hips again, lips barely brushing his. “say please.”

he huffs a breathy laugh. “you’re evil.”

“and you like it.”

he kisses you like he’s proving a point. like he’s staking a claim. and maybe he is.

you lose track of time after that. your bodies move in sync, messy and desperate and addictive. somewhere between kisses and muttered curses, you forget why you hated him in the first place.

when it’s over, you’re tangled in sheets that smell like smoke and sweat and something almost like satisfaction.

you lay there for a moment, catching your breath, heart pounding against his chest.

“so,” dante says, voice muffled against your shoulder, “you still mad at me?”

“depends.”

“on?”

you glance at him, smirking. “how fast you can recover.”

he laughs, a real one this time. deep and warm and stupidly charming.

“baby,” he murmurs, “you’re gonna kill me.”

“that’s the plan.”

a/n #2: this part had me in a chokehold so bad, i know bro is on the verge of dying here but i sent this pic to all my friends and they had nothing appropriate to say

#his eng dub voice actor COOKED #i liked one edit and then he was all over my fyp so i had to watch the anime #this man is so fine #i cannot relax when he's on the screen #i need him biblically #dante sparda #sparda dante #dante devil may cry #dante sparda devil may cry #dante sparda x reader #dante sparda x female reader #dante pls one chance #bite me sparda

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luveline · 8 months ago

Note

Ok I love your post about sleep talking to Aaron, but can you imagine if reader is pregnant but hasn’t told Aaron yet and completely spills the beans in her sleepy ramblings 💙💙

thanks for requesting! <3 fem, 1.4k

“Can you take my socks off for me?”

Aaron decides against asking why. Finds he doesn’t really care why you don’t want to do it yourself, happy to do it for you and spend a little time touching you. He sits on the end of the bed, pulling the comforter off of your feet. He slides a finger under the band of a sock and pulls it off, then the other. Pleased to hear your content sigh, he tucks you back under the blankets.

“Thank you,” you say.

He hears it then, the tiredness creeping into your voice.

“Not gonna last long tonight?”

“Don’t think so.”

Aaron doesn’t mind. With Jack in bed already and everything that needed to be done put away, there’s nothing to do tonight but sleep. He would’ve liked to have had a few more hours with you, but you’re often tired lately. He keeps meaning to pay closer attention to your diet. Perhaps you’re eating too little or missing a necessary vitamin.

He strips out of his sweatpants and climbs into bed.

“Ooh, how forward, Mr. Hotchner,” you tease, your cheek to your pillow, curled and waiting for him to lay down.

He turns out the light. “Can’t a man take off his pyjamas without such accusations?” he asks back, soft so as not to disturb his sleeping son nor his failing partner.

Aaron shakes the sheets out over his legs, slipping onto his side in your direction. You hike your leg over his thigh. He pulls you in.

“Why are you so tired?” he asks.

You don’t pretend you’re not, eyes closing and forehead drifting forward. He’s content to talk to you like this. He might not be able to sleep for a while, but he won’t mind it. It’s an opportunity to see you as you are without inhibitions or distractions.

“I think it’s something in the air.” You slink your arm behind him where he’s hugged you, hand bent at an awkward angle to press into his hair. “So soft.”

He leans down for a kiss. “If you need to sleep,” he says, pulling away only to stroke under your eye, “you can sleep, honey.”

“No… miss you too much…”

“I’ll still be here in the morning.”

“Don’t promise if you can’t.”

He kisses your frown. “I promise I’ll be here in the morning. Just like we talked about. Regularly scheduled days off, definite weekends, consult only if necessary. I promise, honey.”

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you more.”

You’re delighted to hear it. Even with your eyes closed, he can sense the pleasure you’re feeling. You squeeze closer to his chest and begin pulling your fingers through his hair, a sensation that sends shivers down his spine with each pass. Your face falls on your pillow just under his chin and for a while you struggle, your hand trembling with the effort of stroking his hair. Soon, you’re scratching light circles into the same spot, and not long after that you’ve given in to simply having your hand there, buried without hurting.

He turns onto his back to relieve a hip ache. He doesn’t bother pretending it isn’t a plus when you end up half atop him.

“Aaron?”

“Yeah?” he asks, surprised you're capable of opening your mouth.

“Are you happy?”

“Never so much in my life.”

“You love me?”

He curls an arm behind the back of your head. “You know that I do, sweetheart.” Aaron is at a crossroads of disposition; he’s always been and always will be a sensitive man, but he’s more of a shower than a teller when he can help it. He’d hope you know every inch of love he has for you, in everything he tries to do, but if you’re asking him about it he should’ve said it more. “I love you. I’m so grateful for you.”

“I love you and Jack, and… I love our life.”

“Me too,” he says. “Is this a precursor for something?”

“No,” you say decidedly. Last bit of inflection, and then your tone’s lost to fatigue. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he says, pressing his lips to your head, kissing you once, then twice. “Goodnight.”

You curl up into him. He can feel the moment you fall into sleep, the laxness of unconsciousness and your deepening breath. You don’t usually snore for the first hour or so. He should try to fall asleep with you, but he gets distracted by the line of your upper lip.

He really does love you. It isn’t an underestimation to say this is the happiest he’s ever been. He’ll always wonder if he deserves it, but he wants to believe now that he can earn it. You love him, so he’ll spend the rest of your lives together making sure you’re happy. He’s had some cruel wake up calls, made agonising mistakes, and maybe there are some things that can’t be forgiven. But you deserve to be loved to the fullest extent. Jack deserves to grow up feeling the same way, in a home where his dad, while staying true to who he is, actually lives there too.

You and Jack both gave him a second chance at a good life.

“I love you,” he says again.

Stirring, you mumble nothing.

He shouldn’t have done that. “Shh,” he says, rubbing your back. “Shh, shh.”

“Aaron?”

You turn his name into a shapeless doting.

“What, my girl?” he asks under his breath. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sleeping.”

“You were.” He whispers to you in the dark, struggling to resist temptation. “I was just telling you I love you, that’s all.”

“I’m so tired.”

“You’re more than tired lately. It’s a little concerning.”

Your sigh kisses his neck. “Well, it’s probably ‘cos of the baby, you know, they’re so… complicated to make…”

He opens his eyes. Frowns at you, forcing some space between your two bodies. “The baby.”

“‘Pparently the first twelve weeks are the tiredest.” You whine softly and curl into him. “Don’t move away, please...”

He feels like he’s been shocked. The conversation about babies as a long term couple went as follows: we’ll use protection, and if the protection fails we’ll do as you like.

Aaron, you’d said, shaking your head, We can’t just do what I want.

Genuinely and wholeheartedly, Aaron would be happy with just his Jack, and, at the same time, would adore a baby with you. So it really was up to you, knowing protection isn’t ever one hundred percent. He’d hoped he’d be more looped into that conversation when it happened, though, especially with how much has to be done, the preparations to be made, and the extra support you’re going to need.

He takes a deep breath, thinking about everything carefully. He loves you. He wants you to have a baby if you want one, and it sounds like you do. You’re tired beyond belief trying to carry one, so this conversation can wait until tomorrow.

“I’ve heard that too,” he says finally, kissing your forehead more forcefully than he means to. “You should rest as much as you can, honey.”

“You sound like you’re smiling,” you tease, tired, somehow missing the entire point.

“I love you very much, that’s all. You and Jack and… and whatever else that comes.”

—

In the morning, you wake slowly and then suddenly, your hand against his arm. He’s exhausted from a night too excited to sleep and doesn’t budge.

“Aaron…?” you ask.

“What, honey?” he asked.

“I… did I…”

He deigns to remove his face from his pillow. He finds you looking down at him nervously, so beautiful then that looking at you makes him excited all over again.

He rubs your arm. Takes your hand, pulling it to his lips to kiss your wrist. “Congratulations, honey.”

It’s your turn to be shocked, it seems. “Oh, thank you. So I did tell you?”

“You might’ve mentioned it.”

“And you’re… okay with it?”

He puts your hand to his heart, holding it gently. “I couldn’t be more in love,” he confesses.

That helps your hesitant smile on leaps and bounds. You go smiley like you’ve eaten something sugary and laughed, summoning the sweet, inescapable ache in your jaw. “You’re sure?” you ask.

He pulls you down by the cheek for a kiss.

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