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#they would probably just hang down when out of water
echo-goes-mmm · 2 days
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Moonflower #18
Masterpost
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Warnings: domestic abuse
Kit escorted David inside.
“I shouldn’t be here,” David mumbled. “I should go home.”
“Hush,” soothed Kit. “You’ll feel better after some food.”
The servant’s entrance was less crowded, but the hall where the staff ate was full of people. Eyes landed on him and David, and he tried not to make contact with any of them.
David sniffed as they sidestepped the crowd, and Kit grabbed a napkin for his tears. He grabbed two plates of food for them as they sat in a corner.
“I don’t know what to do,” David whispered, picking at his meal.
Kit took a sip of his water. He was already finished; and his stomach yearned to ask if David was going to eat the rest of his food. He should probably eat another nighttime meal later if he didn’t want to wake up hungry.
“Why not stay in the castle? There’s servants quarters. Surely there’s space.”
“I can’t just abandon him.” David put his fork down, hanging his head. “What would Mom say?”
Kit didn’t know much about mothers and fathers. He was a proximity child, raised communally, but he knew this was wrong.
“I don’t think your mother would want you to stay with someone who hurts you.”
“He’s my father,” David weakly protested.
“What does it matter? He hits you. He takes your money. Family isn’t always good for you.”
“He’s sick!”
Kit hesitated. He didn’t know if humans died of grief like fae could, and perhaps David’s father was afflicted. “Sick with what?”
David shook his head. “He drinks, and loses his temper. It’s not his fault.”
“It isn’t your fault either.”
David worried his lip. “It isn’t your fault,” Kit repeated.
“I- If I were a better son-”
“Don’t say that,” Kit said, firm. “You are a good son. You love your father. You’ve been taking care of him.” He reached for David’s hand, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles over his hand. “He hasn’t been a good father to you.”
David sobbed, his hand coming up to hide his face. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” he wept. “He’ll hurt me.”
Kit hummed low and soft. “I won’t let him,” he said. “Mistress won’t let him.”
“As if you could stop him,” David muttered bitterly.
“What?”
“You- I mean,” he stuttered. “I’m sorry. I was going to say something rude. I didn’t mean it.”
Kit’s gut twisted. He knew what David was thinking.
 If you couldn’t protect yourself, how could you protect him?
“It’s o-” Kit choked on the lie squeezing his throat. He took a sip of water to wash it out.
“I forgive you,” he said instead, the pain settling down to a dull throb.
David took one of the napkins to wipe his face, gingerly avoiding his black eye. “Her- her majesty knows?” he asked, changing the subject.
“I told her someone was hurting you. I didn’t tell her anything else.”
“Okay.” 
They sat in silence, the roar of the room filling in the lapse.
“Would you like to come to my room?” asked Kit. “You might relax more there.”
“Okay.”
___________________
The hallways were mostly clear, as everyone was at lunch. Only a few guards were posted, and a bad feeling weighed in his mind like a stone when he realized how few of them they had passed.
His intuition was rarely wrong.
They rounded a corner, and in the hall was a lone man. A stranger.
David stopped up short behind him. David’s breath caught in his throat, and Kit knew this was his father.
He was almost the same height as Kit, with a head of graying hair and a thin build. Kit could smell the alcohol coming off of him in waves, mixed with stale sweat.
He must have come in from a side entrance. Perhaps a guard had recognized him as David’s dad, and thought he was harmless enough.
David whimpered behind him, and the man turned. He was sober, guessed Kit, based on his eyes and posture. A rare occurrence from what David had told him.
“David!” he said, a smile on his face. “There you are. I was so worried when you weren’t at the house.”
“Dad? Are you… okay?” David stepped out from behind Kit, tremble gone.
“Of course, bud.” The man’s eyes wandered to the small sack in David’s hands. “Are you okay? Some of your things are missing.” 
Kit narrowed his eyes. He didn’t believe the man’s concern was based in worry for his son, but rather for himself.
“Uh- yeah-”
David’s father advanced on them, his stride controlled underneath the relaxed veneer.
“Are you… moving out, son?” his voice was tight and unnerving.
“W-well,” David stuttered. “I just thought- I mean, I’m an adult now, and-”
The man kept coming, and Kit stepped forward.
The stranger drew up short. “Excuse me,” he said. “Step aside.”
“No.”
The man stared at him. “I’m only trying to talk to my kid.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“What the hell do you know?” snapped the man, his temper flaring.
“Dad, please,” David pleaded.
The man turned on David. “Did this faerie try and convince you to leave? Huh?!”
David stepped back. He shook his head. “No-”
David’s father stepped forward, raised a hand-
Kit dove in front of David, shoving the boy behind him.
The blow landed across his face.
David gasped, and Kit felt himself leave his own body, as if watching from far away.
David’s father started shouting at him, but a high-pitched buzzing in his head drowned out the words.
He could feel the sting on his cheek, and he could barely make out David clutching at the back of his shirt.
Tears ran down Kit’s face, but no sound left his throat. He could hardly breathe.
“Answer me!” screamed the man in his face, and spit landed on his shirt. He couldn’t move.
“What the hell?” said a guard from the end of the hall, and sensation rushed back into Kit’s body. He stumbled back, sucking in air.
David’s father started making excuses, and Kit couldn’t be bothered to listen. The guard’s eyes flicked between the three of them. Her gaze landed on David’s black eye, Kit’s burning cheek, and David’s father’s furious expression.
She drew up tall. “You need to leave,” she informed him. “Or you’re under arrest for assault and trespassing.”
“Assault?” he sputtered. “I was disciplining my son! It’s not my fault this creature got in the way!”
“Leave,” the guard pressed. “I’ve warned you once; you won’t get another.”
The man turned on David. “Your mother would be disgusted with you,” he spat. “I hope you’re happy. Don’t bother coming home.”
He turned and stalked away, the guard escorting him out.
David broke down, his hands on his knees, hunched over and his breath quick and shallow.
Kit watched helplessly, his own breathing irregular.
“I- oh god-” David clutched his chest. “I’m dying.”
“No,” Kit said, his tongue thick and clumsy in his mouth. “You’re panicking.”
“Oh,” laughed David hysterically. “Is that all?”
Kit pulled at his arms, helping him stand. “Come one. You can sit on the couch in my room.”
David nodded, and shakily followed him deeper into the castle.
taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @cupcakes-and-pain @loserwithsyle @cepheusgalaxy @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight
@hellodecisionparalysis @bitchaknso @starfields08000 @honeycollectswhump
@why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @currentlyinthesprial
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bee-sidebranch · 20 days
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The wet mouse with their demi god first-aid kit
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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...
#i think. maybe ill go to bed before 8 tonight#bc my brain. i can't deal with it. and im tired#but i should not do that bc i have things i need to do#like. theres an application due the 11th. but fuck it i might not send it bc fucking whats the point#why has it become so impossible to function? i mean. i kno why but its still annoying#and its like so crazy bc i just feel like im curled up on the floor with the broken pieces of my life and nothing terribles even happened#from an outside perspective its perfectly fine and good my insides have just rottef out#like i had to spend most of today plotting an experiment and i feel bad bc im just so. im so worried that looking after yhis thing is going#to hurt. its going to drain away hours of my time. i dont kno how long it take to deal with every single day for 2 weeks#ill have to water it at 7 and 5 and take measurements all day probably and im very worried about the amount of damage thats going to do#when it already feels like i should b careful where i step. and i feel bad bc im prob such a bummer to hang around like im so sullen faced#and i just dont care. like we had to make a decision bc we could do one thing or another and it would b answering 2 diff questions#and my boss was like. well which do u find most interesting. and i just. i dont care im more concern with the amount of psychic damage this#will inflict upon me so i just dont really give a fuck and that makes me so sad bc like at one point this probably would have been fun#and now im just bitter and it hurt and i jusr want to lay down and not get up#and im like how the fuck am i supposed to find a phd position when the enthusiasm for what i do now has completely burned thru me?#like hi yes r u looking for a new student? im dizzy and my life is falling apart even tho everythings my brains just on fire#but ya kno i think id b an asset to your lab! sigh... itll b fine i kno it will bc it has to b#ill visit the school i wanna go to. hopefully not make myself look like too much of an unstable moron and then leave this place#dragg my bleeding soul across the country to shrivel up in a different area code#somethings gotta give but lets hope it waits a couple months ya kno#ugh. im just tired. i should sleep. i didnt sleep enough last night. and i didnt relax on the weekend so ive got that i don't kno what day#it is type of vertigo. but tomorrow will b better. it will bc i dont want it to b worse#unrelated#i just want to study things that made me feel something. y doesn't that have to b so hard?#let me study slime. endless days alone with the green goo
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emphistic · 1 month
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On the Court
Taglist: @starlets-things
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who, whenever he shows up to practice, always gets asked about you by his teammates (sometimes random people — that he doesn't even know — ask him about you, too)
"How's Y/N doing?"
"Tell Y/N I said hi."
"I haven't seen Y/N around lately, how is she?"
"You'll ask how my girlfriend's doing, but not me? She's good — by the way." Sukuna always feigned to be hurt by these inquiries. He really wasn't . . . most of the time.
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who insists you give him a kiss before all of his games
"C'mon, baby, just one?" He pleaded. "You know you're my lucky charm."
You would always laugh, giving in to his desires. And in the end, he wasn't wrong. Sukuna comes out of most matches as victorious, thanks to you.
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who loves when you come to his practices, this doesn't happen often because you have to babysit Yuuji
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who, if you do come to his practices, always acts like it's a Magic Mike show: he'll wipe the sweat off his face with his jersey just to show off his bare abs; he'll drink from his water bottle like a dog, making the water drip all over
When he's feeling extra scandalous, he'll even say, "I'm so sweaty, babe. Come lick it."
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who always searches for you in crowds
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who would, without even a second of hesitation, skip a practice or even a game if you asked him to hang out or something like that
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who takes immense pride in showing you off as his
Sukuna pointed at you in the crowd to a new teammate of his, "See that beautiful lady over there? That's my girlfriend. My girlfriend."
Sukuna always teases, saying, "I wouldn't be surprised if we lost this game. I'll probably be too distracted looking at that absolute work of art sitting over there."
Albeit, sometimes his pride backfires on him.
"Isn't my girlfriend just so gorgeous?"
"Yeah, she is. She's like super hot," his teammate remarked.
"What the fuck did you just say about my girlfriend, you little son of a bitch."
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who gets so jealous when other people sit next to you at a game, but he can't (because he's playing) — sometimes you bring his baby brother, Yuuji, along with you and Yuuji sits next to you or on your lap, and Sukuna literally glares daggers at his brother
There was this one time, where a guy decided to sit next to you in the bleachers, and started to mansplain basketball to you. He told you all the rules, all the positions, and he even had the nerve to narrate Sukuna's game to you. And you, deciding not to interfere, just politely nodded.
It wasn't until the end of the game, when Sukuna had the chance to put this little boy in his place. Like you guys always do, you ran down the bleachers to congratulate Sukuna on his win. Most of the time, it's just a tight hug where the both of you share a chaste peck. But this time, Sukuna shoved his tongue down your throat, all while glaring at the guy from earlier.
Basketballplayer!Sukuna whose teammates always come to you whenever Sukuna gets mad after a loss; they know you're the only who's able to approach him without getting punched in the face
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who loves when you care for him after he gets injured
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who gets really annoyed when people try to hit on him, especially if they get in his way when he's trying to talk to you
"Hey, I saw you playing and you're like, really good."
"I know."
"I didn't catch your name."
"I didn't throw it."
NSFW Below
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who loves to fuck you while you wear his jersey; he can't help it; he just loves to see his last name on your back
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who would take you against the bleachers if you let him
Basketballplayer!Sukuna whose favorite position is having you on your hands and knees on the bleachers, he'll purposely pound into you just to feel you wobble and shake on the bleachers
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who fucks you like a rabid animal after a loss; he needs to get rid of all the pent frustration
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who'll tell you to be quiet whilst shoving his fingers in your mouth
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who meets up with you in the locker room after everyone's left, he gets annoyed when people tarry and delay his meeting with you
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who, after fucking in the locker room, will proceed to take you again in the shower room
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who absolutely degrades you, pulling on your hair and making you hiccup and sob, he thinks you look divine when there's mascara running down your face and you've lost the ability to say or think anything but his name
"Look at you, milking my cock dry. You were made for this; you were made for me. Dirty fucking slut. My dirty slut."
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who also whispers sweet nothings in your ear
"You're so beautiful, baby," his words were slurred, as his hips came to a stutter. "Such a good girl for me. Ah, shit. Look at the mess you've made of me. 'm drunk off of you, pretty girl."
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who goes round after round, his stamina is 100% inimitable
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who is not against sex in the car if people don't leave the gym fast enough
Basketballplayer!Sukuna who always has so much left over energy after a game that he fucks you senseless, leaves you absolutely destroyed, till your legs are shaking, cum is dripping between your legs, and you're mind is completely blank
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deadghosy · 3 months
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THANKS TO @lazyemmy FOR THIS LOVELY IDEA OF THE PENGUIN! READER💗🦆
HAZBIN HOTEL X PENGUIN! READER
prompt: during one extermination an angel had kidnapped you and took you to heaven based off a common mistake
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“Quack?” You were literally trying to water the hotel’s flowers when you forgot about extermination….the leader of the exterminators had grabbed you by your sailor outfit Velvette made you.
“Shut your mouth short stuff.” You heard a man’s voice to see a person wearing a horned mask and a golden robe. You panicked as Charlie had told you about a man like this as Adam scoffs seeing your panicked state.
“JEEZ CHILL OUT YOU FUCKIN' BIRD BRAIN!” Adam yells as he enters in the portal of heaven with the exterminators behind him. He plops you down on the clouded floors to see the heavenly gates Charlie tells you in stories
As you waddled you seen a male who seemed to be waiting for you. “Ah! Reader..so glad to have you. It seems as if heaven had made a mistake and sent you to hell.” St. Peter said as he picks you up having the gates open. Your eyes widen at the bright light of heaven as angels walk and smile. “Welcome to your true home [reader]”
The air smelt so clean and not bloody as it seemed so peaceful and holy. After St. Peter getting your room and home ready to stay in heaven. You start to feel a little “home” sick as you hope the hotel crew was doing well and aren’t going crazy.
Which they totally are as Charlie is panicking calling her father.
After a few days , Adam will visit you a lot saying how he got forced to look after you…(he wasn’t forced he just liked how cute and pure you are but he’ll never admit it) Adam makes dumb ass jokes about how all those sinners down there should die and perish as he pats you on your little head. You quacked trying to show some worry for your friends down there.
“Oh them? Hah! They’re probably running like headless chickens looking for your ass.” Adam says with his usual grin as he pops some popcorn in his mouth. “Want some?” He says as he waves a piece of popcorn in your face. you sniffed it and ate it from his hand as adam's eyes widen at your cuteness…
you're like a little baby..💗😭😭😭
Adam grabs your chubby cold cheeks as he faces you towards him. “Never leave here. Okay?” He says seriously low with a protective tone as you quack nodding nervously at how quick this dude got attached to you.
Adam pushes your face away from him smirking. “Good now let’s watch this video I saw off of this human app called ‘TikTok’”
Lute didn’t know how to approach you, but she sends you small gifts that reminds her of you as you just open them like “quack?” And a head tilt confused but take it in anyways.
I imagine lute literally being your bodyguard when you don’t have any work to do as she just pushes anyone who gets to close to you away. LIKE IT COULD BE AN OLD LADY AND SHE WOULD BE LIKE “BITCH MOVE!”😭
After the 3rd day of the 1 week of being in heaven, lute definitely got overprotective of you. Always keeping tabs on where you go and which house you deliver mail to. I mean who knows what would happen to a cute soul like you? (A/n: Omg this sounds like a yandere…)
The angels love how adorable you are as they pet you. Immediately you are popular just like how you are popular in hell. Sera has given you a job as a mail boy again as you smile.
I can see St.Peter visit you when he isn’t on duty or just when someone takes his spot so he can say hi and hang out with you.
You wear a cute little yellow and white mail delivery fit thanks to sera who got a designer to get you to fit it perfectly.
You love how you still got your delivery job as you leave a cookie on the front porches of the angels. It’s like your significant signature to others to have a good day.
Adam and lute were arguing one time in front of you and you sniffled not liking the loud noises and immediately, and surprisingly. Adam and Lute pretended everything was okay to make you happy as Adam picked you up and took you away to get your favorite snack for you.
Sera checks on you as well with Emily by her side as Emily just finds you so cute and is excited to get to hang out with you more.
Emily immediately hugs and kisses your head amused by your small and kind soul she sees in you.
Sera would like to take you on stroll on week 2. She’d like to show you around heaven with Emily as she hold you in her arms gushing chow cute you are.
NOW I CAN IMAGINE YOU AND EMILY GOING ON A SHOPPING SPREE TO EXPLORE NEW CLOTHING AESTHETIC ✨💗
You showed yourself to be an angel by spirit as you helped a kid get a new lollipop, which makes sera smile at you being helpful as he is glad to hav with here in heaven and not they “ratchet” place.
You do miss hell as it had your friends who you got use to….you hoped they were still doing okay down there.
MEANWHILE IN HELL: “OMG OMG I CANT BELIEVE THEY GOT KIDNAPPED…IM A BAD FRIENDDD” “HON DONT WORRY, YOUR DAD CAN FIND A WAY TO GET THEM..” “it’s okay fat nuggets, they’ll come back…” *sad oink* and everyone else is having their own panic moment in their own way.
MEANWHILE BACK IN HEAVEN: “quack.” You said looking up at adam who holds your hand. “Huh? Jeeezzz bird brain..stop worrying about those loser down there…they’re fine without you.” Adam says smirking knowing damn well they aren’t .
Emily holds your hand as you waddle quacking at the ice creams around here. They taste so much better as your eyes sparkle at this sweet flavored treat. Emily squeals as her eyes got big and took a pic of your happy face. Sera most definitely got the picture on her heaven phone as her face soften seeing the new angel in heaven enjoying their self.
I imagine Adam is the one to be the one who claims to be the closest to you. But really he just brags about himself to you about how much sinners he kills.
I headcannon for your wings to be little cute fairy looking wings or pure white ones as you just fly.
You definitely have cherubim in heaven which makes the angels find you more adorable as the delivery boy.
You had made an account literally one day, and instantly you got 2 million followers which made you shock as Adam just munches on snacks while you quack panicked at how quick you became famous here.
I headcannon St. Peter to send you cookies with those cute little penguin designs on it. It looks like Christmas cookies but they are so cute and tasty
Say for example you fell and you couldn’t get up as you’re so rounded 😭 LITERALLY ALL YOU CAN DO IS ROLL AND SQEUAK AND QUACK💗 Adam is laughing as he takes a picture and video for himself before helping you up.
I can imagine Adam and Sera having a schedule out to plan who gets it hang out with you on weeks and days 😭
You liked the herbal tea they had as you waddle around with Adam having a kid leash on you as he just looked bored.
At the end of the week, you were sleeping wearing a whole ass cute gown Adam bought you as he literally dropped it on you with a flustered face seeing your cute smile.
As you slept…Lucifer snuck into heaven and snatched you up leaving a “fuck you” letter to Adam. Don’t even question how he got into heaven. Just be glad he took you.
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rubysunnday · 8 months
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take my hand
summary: as much as y/n appreciates anthony's matchmaking efforts, it's hard to accept them when he's the only man she wants. luckily for her, a fall in the lake allows her to voice her feelings in more ways than one
a/n: 4.4k of pure angst/fluff and, yes, smut
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Promenading was probably one of the most pointless endeavours the ton insisted on participating in. Miss Y/N Moore loved going on walks around the city. But when she was surrounded by the ton and their watching eyes and gossiping mouths, it was hard to enjoy anything.
"Stop glowering," her mother hissed, elbowing her in the side. "Smile."
Y/N sighed. But she raised her chin and smiled politely as they walked past the Featherington family.
There was only one reason why her mother had forced her out of the house: the Earl of Newburgh.
He'd been courting Y/N since the second week of the season. They'd danced together at almost every ball, gone to museum visits together and he'd had dinner at her house. Twice.
They were practically engaged in the eyes of the ton.
Yet Y/N wasn't happy. She liked the earl, there was nothing wrong with him. He was a lovely man. But there was no spark between them. Their relationship just felt like a good friendship.
She had never confessed it to her mother, however. If she did, Y/N was certain her mother would swoon.
"I do not see the earl anywhere," her mother muttered, rising up on to her tiptoes.
Y/N tugged on her arm and forced her back down. "He might not be here yet, mama."
"He did invite you to promenade with him, yes?"
"Yes -"
"Then why is he not here?"
Y/N kept quiet. Sometimes, when her mother got annoyed, she talked to herself, grumbling about anything and everything. It was easier to let her talk aloud and not acknowledge anything - otherwise they'd end up in a fight and Y/N knew how they always ended.
As her mother kept rattling on, Y/N gazed across the crowd gathered down by the lake. There were awnings pitched up along the edge of the clearing, providing shade to the families sitting under them. It was a beautiful day and the lake had numerous boats upon it, gently gliding over the water.
Y/N's roving gaze moved past and then came back to an awning nearest the lake. It, and the carriage, were both light blue. The carriage door boasted the Bridgerton family crest and Y/N's heart stuttered.
It was as if he knew she was looking.
Viscount Anthony Bridgerton looked up. He was sat on a blanket, his youngest sister Hyacinth sat by him, tucked into his side. They were making a daisy chain together. It snaked down Anthony's legs, growing longer as Hyacinth added to it.
It was as if the world stopped for a moment, blurring everything out except Anthony.
"Y/N, darling!"
Y/N jumped slightly. She turned and saw the Earl of Newburgh walking towards her, her mother practically hanging off his arm.
"I found him!"
Y/N tried not to cringe. She kept her composure and smiled at the earl, curtseying as he approached. "My Lord."
"Would you care to promenade with me, Miss Moore?" He asked, smiling at her as he offered her his arm.
"I would love to," she replied, threading her arm through his.
Her mother giggled. Giggled. Y/N tried not to sigh but her composure must've slipped as the Earl patted her hand sympathetically.
They walked down the grass, past the families and toward the water. Y/N could feel guilt eating at her every time she glanced at the earl. She didn't want to inconvience him or hurt his feelings. But she also didn't want to trap him in a marriage that was one sided.
"Miss Moore -"
"My lord -"
They both stopped abruptly, hearing the other speak. The earl laughed, shaking his head.
"Please, go first, Miss Moore."
Y/N sighed. "My lord, I apologise but I... I would rather we remain friends than take this any further. I value you and our friendship," she added quickly, "but I just do not feel any..."
"Spark?"
Y/N smiled and nodded. "I know I am running out of time," she said quietly. "And any other woman would accept your suit and gladly become a countess. But I yearn for a love match, as foolish as that might seem. I want what so many of the ton have and I am not quite ready to give up on that idea yet."
"I do not think you should either," the earl replied. He took her hand in his. "We all deserve a chance at true love, Miss Moore. I can only hope you find it."
"As do I, my lord." She curtseyed. "I hope to see you around."
It was as if her mother knew what had just happened. As the earl walked away, Y/N turned, glancing over at her. She could see the fury on her face even from this far away. Y/N swallowed as she began to walk back to her mother, bracing herself for the fallout.
"Miss Moore!"
She stilled. The voice as achingly familiar. She could smell him and it filled her with a weird warmth.
Y/N turned. Anthony Bridgerton was standing there, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a dark blue jacket.
"Lord Bridgerton," Y/N said, curtseying.
Anthony smiled. "I was Anthony last week," he said, moving closer.
"My mother is watching," Y/N replied softly. She risked a glance over her shoulder. "I just ended things with the Earl of Newburgh."
"Why?"
Y/N turned back to face him. She shrugged. "There was no spark."
Anthony nodded once. He glanced over her shoulder. "Well, would you like to come out onto the lake with me?" He asked, extending his hand out. "To escape your mother for a moment?"
Y/N looked at his bare hand. Slowly, she placed her own bare hand in his, letting him guide her hand to the crook of his elbow. She could feel the warmth of his body even through the dark blue wool of his jacket.
They began to walk towards the dock set up on the edge of the lake. The sun emerged from behind the clouds, sparkling off the water for a moment before disappearing again.
Anthony held her hand as she stepped into the boat. He kept her steady as it rocked, not letting go until she did. Y/N sat down on the chair built into the boat. Anthony sat down opposite her, grabbing the oars.
One of the workers untied them from the dock and gave them a gentle push out onto the lake. Anthony began to row, the oars splashing in and out of the water. Y/N sighed, relaxing back against the cushions, grateful to have escaped her mother's wrath for a moment.
Anthony was quiet for a while. He rowed them away from the dock, weaving through the other boats on the lake.
"What made you deny the earl?" Anthony asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.
Y/N exhaled softly, letting her hand trail through the water. "There was no spark," she replied. "I felt nothing but friendship towards him."
"What is it you look for?"
"A love match," Y/N replied, taking her hand out the water and shaking the droplets off. "Despite how foolish it may seem, I yearn for a love match. One that matches the stories I read when I was younger. Whilst I know it will probably never happen, younger me isn't quite ready to give up on the idea yet."
"I do not think it foolish," Anthony said softly. He slowed the oars, holding them loosely in his hands. "Nor do I think you should give up on it."
Y/N found his gaze. The intensity of it almost took her breath away.
"I must admit, however, that I do not think the earl would have made a good match."
His words snatched her out of her dream. Y/N stared at him, affronted.
"Whatever does that mean?" She asked.
"Well, he lives in Scotland -"
"Do you have some personal vendetta against Scotland?"
"Other than the bagpies and the tartan and the constant rain?"
"Anthony, have you ever been to Scotland in your life?"
"Colin has."
Y/N sighed. "Your brother does not count." She paused. "Is Scotland the only reason?"
"Oh, I have a whole list."
"Oh for goodness sake."
Y/N knew Anthony had a soft spot for her. They'd been friends since she'd come out two years previously. He'd been a desired match despite his whining about not wanting a wife. Her mother had forced them to dance together numerous times and soon a friendship had formed.
Even if that friendship sometimes comprised of a very judgy viscount who seemed to make who Y/N was courting his business.
"Anthony, when will you realise that you cannot control who I court?" Y/N asked softly.
Anthony began rowing them back to the dock. "I do not claim to try to."
"But you do."
"If you want me to stop, you need only ask."
"Anthony, that's not what..." Y/N sighed heavily. "I do not get a lot of choice in this world, please stop trying to control the one thing I do get to choose."
"I was not aware I was," Anthony replied, brow furrowing.
Y/N didn't want to say it. But she knew she had to.
"Well, you are," she replied gently. "I appreciate the concern but... I do not have long left to find my true love. And you, Viscount Bridgerton, are not helping things."
She knew it was a low blow. All Anthony wanted to do was protect her. But he kept scaring off countless suitors - sometimes before Y/N could even speak to them. It was a miracle the earl had managed to bypass Anthony at all.
The boat hit the dock. Y/N looked at Anthony and could see the muscles in his jaw clenching. He cleared his throat and stood up, pulling his jacket down.
Anthony climbed out the boat and crouched down, tying the rope back to the dock. He said nothing. Y/N hated the silence. She'd upset him, she knew that.
But she could not allow him to keep matchmaking for her when the only one she wanted was him. It hurt to see him try to marry her off to another man. All she wanted to do was be with him.
She'd denied it for months. The feelings that had begun to blossom inside her. They had become uncontrollable now, taking over her entire being whenever she saw him.
She was in love with Anthony Bridgerton.
The man who was against love, against marriage, against happy ever afters. He had made his intentions clear and Y/N knew he was not going to back down on them for her.
Her heart belonged to him and he didn't even know it.
Anthony held out his hand to her. "Miss Moore."
"Lord Bridgerton." She placed her hand in his.
Y/N stepped out of the boat and onto the dock. As she did so, she glanced down at their hands, fingers still holding on to one another.
Neither one of them wanted to let go. Even as the seconds ticked by. Anthony ran his thumb along her knuckles, hovering over the ring she wore on her middle finger.
Then, as if struck by lighting, they pulled apart. Y/N and Anthony both took a step back together, not realising another couple were directly behind them.
There was a yelp of surprise. It was a tangle of limbs and ropes and suddenly, Y/N found herself hitting the water. For a moment, she was blinded, but then she found her way upright and surfaced.
She turned her head, catching the splash as Anthony awkwardly surfaced from the depths of the lake, arms wheeling. The other man they'd knocked into the water was glowering at them but Y/N didn't care.
In fact, she was finding the entire situation highly amusing.
A crowd had gathered at the edge of the dock, her mother among them. Anthony was angrily shedding his jacket and cravat, slinging them into the water.
Y/N made the mistake of looking over.
His white shirt was near see through thanks to the water. It clung to his torso, highlighting the muscles and giving her a near clear view of everything.
Her cheeks began to burn and Y/N turned away quickly.
"Anthony, are you okay?"
Y/N looked up at the dock. Daphne Bridgerton, Anthony's sister, was stood at the edge, looking down at them, his brother Benedict next to them.
Benedict looked as amused as Y/N did at the whole situation.
"No," he grunted. "This idiot decided to tie his boat where there was no space!"
"You walked into me, my lord!"
Y/N rolled her eyes as the two man began to bicker. She half swam, half waded away back to the dock. The crowd moved back as she put her hands on the edge and pushed herself up onto it, gratefully accepting Benedict's help as he pulled her back onto dry land.
She knew she looked a mess. Her dress was covered in grime from the lake and there was a stray twig stuck in her hair. Yet she didn't seem to care.
Y/N shook her head, pulling the twig out. She looked up as Benedict straightened, giving her a smile. He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet
Y/N watched as Benedict crouched back down and offered a hand to his brother. Anthony slapped it aside, glowering at Benedict as he laughed at his brother's misfortune.
Anthony clambered back up onto the dock and snatched a towel from one of the workers hovering hesitantly nearby. He marched off, giving Y/N a tilt of the head as he passed by.
Y/N watched him leave. A shiver danced through her body and she wrapped her arms around herself. A warm jacket landed around her shoulders.
"So you have a reason to come by," Benedict whispered in her ear as he stepped back.
Y/N smiled up at him, pulling the jacket tight around her.
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She knocked on the front door of Bridgerton house, Benedict's freshly laundered jacket in her hand. It wasn't long before the butler opened the door and ushered her inside, taking her calling card.
Y/N waited in the foyer for a moment, admiring the paintings and the walls. Then, the butler appeared again and guided her up the stairs to the drawing room.
"Y/N!"
She'd barely taken one step inside the room before Hyacinth came barreling at her, wrapping her arms around her waist.
"Hyacinth," Violet admonished, hurrying over. "Please do not ambush Miss Moore."
Hyacinth beamed up at Y/N before skipping away, back to her marbles.
"Miss Moore - Y/N," Violet corrected, seeing Y/N open her mouth to do so, "what do we owe the pleasure?"
Y/N held up the jacket. "I believe this is your son's." She paused. "The artistic one."
Violet chuckled, taking the jacket from Y/N. "Thank you," she replied. "I do apologise for what -"
"Oh, it was not anyone's fault," Y/N said, shrugging. "A funny accident was all it was."
Violet sighed. "I wish Anthony saw it that way. He is still rather angry at being pushed into the lake."
Y/N knew that, whilst he probably was angry at that, it wasn't the only thing. Yet, she did not say so aloud.
"I apologise for the lack of people here," Violet continued. "All of them are out. Bar Anthony, he's in his office."
"Not to worry, I only came to drop the jacket off," Y/N replied. She paused, hesitating to ask her next question.
"What is it, Y/N?" Violet asked, her mother's instinct isntantly reading the heistation on Y/N's face.
"I may have said some things to your son that upset him," she admitted softly. "I should not have done so but..." She sighed. "I cannot explain it myself, to be honest."
Violet nodded, eyes full of understanding. "You do not need to. Your relationship with Anthony is a special one. I do hope that this does not ruin it." Violet smiled. "I always think it best to be honest with someone, Y/N. Even if it's scary. It almost always helps things."
Y/N nodded. "Thank you."
As she turned to go, Violet called her name, halting her.
"His office is behind the stairs," Violet said.
Y/N smiled at the older woman. She turned and made her way down the stairs. As she got to the bottom, she turned to the right instead of heading for the front door.
It was easy to spot Anthony's office. The door was slightly ajar and she could see his jacket, abandoned on a chair by the fireplace.
Y/N knocked gently on the door.
"Just a moment, Hy," Anthony called.
Y/N stepped in, peering round the door, holding on to the edge. "Should I be flattered that you assumed I was Hyacinth?"
Anthony looked up sharply, his quill scratching along the parchment in one, thick, ink heavy line. "Miss Moore."
"I believe it was Y/N the other day," she replied, throwing his own words back at him, hoping to lighten the tension.
It didn't work.
"Why are you here?" Anthony asked, gripping his quill tightly.
"I came to return Benedict's jacket," she replied.
His reaction was obvious, despite how hard he tried to hide it. His shoulders slumped and his demeanour changed.
"Ah," Anthony replied, turning back to his papers. "Did you get lost?"
"I came to see you as well," Y/N replied. She was still hiding behind the door. "But only if you'll hear me out."
"I might."
"And if you stop being so rude."
At that, Anthony looked up again. He stood up, pushing back his chair. "What do you want, Y/N?" He asked, walking over to a cabinet and opening the doors.
"To apologise for what I said," Y/N replied, edging further into the room. "I was stressed amongst many other things and I took it out on you. Of course I value your opinion and I appreciate your assistance."
"You did not seem to the other day."
"Well, I was having conflicting feelings."
Anthony scoffed. Y/N watched him pour out a glass of whiskey and drink it in one.
Y/N sighed softly. She walked further into the room, pushing the door shut behind her. "The truth is, Anthony, that... as much as I appreciate your matchmaking skills and your assistance with this whole thing I..." Y/N trailed off.
She could still change her mind. She could still lie to him, claim innocence.
But she didn't want to.
Now was her chance to tell him. To let it all out. It would hurt. The denial would sting. But she would get over it. And then maybe, she could find another match.
"I cannot have the man I love trying to marry me off to other men when the only one I want is him."
Anthony's glass clinked against the bottle he was holding. He went very still, frozen mid-pour. Y/N let the confession settle, the silence grow. She moved closer to him, the heels of her shoes against the wooden floor the loudest sound she'd ever heard.
"I can’t get you out of my head," she admitted softly. "You haunt my dreams at night and in the day. I find myself searching for you where ever I go, yearning just to hear your voice, to feel your hand in mine… your lips against my skin.
"You torment my very being. Whenever I see you, whenever I hear you there’s a spark inside me that demands to be let out. A spark that doesn’t exist with anyone but you, Anthony."
Anthony set the bottle down and turned to face her. Y/N didn't know how she expected him to react but the tears brimming in his eyes was not high on the list.
"I know that this might not be what you wish to happen," she added quickly, stepping even closer, "and if that is the case, I will walk away right now and forget this ever happened." She paused, breathing deeply. "But I think there is something, deep down inside, that yearns for this too."
That god awful silence fell again. The clock chimed from the mantle place, indicating that it was inching close to six o'clock. Anthony stared at her. Y/N stared at him. She let her fingers grip her skirt tightly.
"I will admit," Anthony said softly, his voice hoarse, "that I have felt something too. For a long time I have denied it." He swallowed. "I loved my father deeply and his loss aches even today. I fear to love anyone else as much or to allow anyone to love me as much because I do not wish to inflict that ache on anyone else.
"But what I have discovered since meeting you, Y/N Moore, is that the ache means that the love was so great, it cannot be put into words. We know what happens in the end, yet we love anyway. It has taken me a long time to accept that. To accept that falling in love will only mean more pain, more heart ache. But for you, I am willing to accept that. For you, I am willing to love again."
Y/N couldn't breathe. At some point during Anthony's confession, her breath had been stolen away by his words.
Here they were, baring their open and broken souls to one another. It shouldn't have felt this good. It shouldn't have brought her the relief it was.
Anthony stepped closer. Y/N followed his gaze, never breaking away. He lowered his lips to hers. It was slow and delicate yet the desire was there, the need for more was there. He pressed hard, pushing her lips apart slightly, wanting even more.
Then, they broke apart. Anthony took a step back. Y/N looked at him, breathing heavily. Anthony looked at her, his dark eyes burning into her soul.
There was a moment of stillness. A moment of calm.
Then Anthony surged forward, as did Y/N. They collide. His hands wrapped around her waist as he captured her lips again. They were desperate to devour one another, to know each others bodies, to feel one another after denying their feelings for so long.
Anthony lifted Y/N up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, never once breaking their kiss. He walked back and sat her on the desk, knocking over trinkets and piles of papers. His hands were frantic, desperately undoing the hooks at the back of her dress as she undid his waistcoat.
Desire coursed through them. The need to hold one another overwhelming them both. Y/N's dress fell down from her shoulders and ended up on the floor, forgotten.
As Anthony stepped back, Y/N jumped off the desk and pulled Anthony forward by his cravat. She smiled, licking her swollen lips as she pushed him down until he was kneeling in front of her.
Anthony chuckled, his hands reaching up and pulling down her stockings from around her thighs. Her drawers followed next. Anthony's hands danced over her hips and upper thighs as he guided the material down.
Y/N's hands caressed his face and combed through his hair with her fingers as he undressed her and Anthony tried not to moan in delight. He paused as her hands came around his throat, undoing the cravat and then drifting down to his shirt.
Teasingly, Y/N pulled the edge up, letting her nail lightly drag across his skin. A tremor went through his body, desire flaring between his legs. The shirt landed on the floor next to her dress.
Anthony paused, looking at her. “I will stop if you want me to,” he said softly.
"Please don’t.”
Anthony realised just how much he liked her begging.
Y/N lowered herself to her knees, looking Anthony in the eye. He recognised the look in her eyes and he slowly lowered himself down to the floor, the rug brushing his bare back.
She knelt over him, fingers dancing over his chest. Her hands moved down, brushing between his legs. He nearly came undone there and then. Y/N undid his trousers, sliding the fabric down his legs until they were both exposed.
Y/N lowered herself onto him, a sweetness growing between her legs as she did so. She yearned to reach down and relieve it. Instead, she straightened up, resting on top of Anthony. He tilted his head back, a groan burning in his throat. He let her warm to him, to his touch, and then he arched up slightly, encouraging her movements. Y/N moved with him, their limbs becoming one, entangling with the other.
Anthony reached the horizon of his desire, feeling it's release all over. Y/N rested a hand on his chest, breathing hard. She leant down, kissing his lips, the space behind his ear, his collarbone. She brushed her hand along the side of his face, taking in every mole, every detail.
Anthony took her face in his hands. He gently guided her up, until they were both kneeling again. Then, he pushed her backwards, letting her lower herself onto the floor. Y/N laid on the rug, looking up at Anthony, her eyes caught in his gaze. He knelt over her, his knees either side of her waist, his knee brushing her bare skin.
He smirked as slowly lowered himself downward, caressing every part of her body as he went. His hands ran over her covered breasts, hovering for a moment, before moving down to her stomach. He paused at her thighs and then, when he heard her whimper, went down further, to the sweet spot that yearned to be touched.
Y/N splayed her hands out against the rug as the sweetness between her thighs was eased by hands that knew exactly what to do and a tongue that knew just where to touch.
She didn't even hear the noises she made, so absorbed in the feeling of Anthony's fingers inside her. Her hips bucked up and he pushed them back to the floor, resting his other hand against her abdomen.
Needing something to grasp onto, Y/N reached for his hand. Anthony found it and gripped it tightly, riding with her as each surge of breath came in quick succession.
Y/N arched up, her head tilted back, exposing her throat, as she crested the wave of her release. Anthony finished off as she fell back against the rug, her skin glowing with sweat.
He laid down next to her, his hand coming to lie against her chest. He could feel her heart beating through the corset she still wore.
Neither one spoke - they didn’t need to. Y/N closed her eyes and turned her head, nestling into Anthony’s neck and breathing in deeply. His cologne was stronger there, evidently where he’d rolled it on that morning. Anthony’s thumb rubbed back and forth along her back.
In stark contrast from the hunger and desire that had gripped them moments earlier, they were both settled now. Anthony’s kiss was soft on her cheek, his hands gentle as he caressed her bare skin. Y/N found herself drawing circles on his bare back, following imaginary lines along the divot of his spine.
She sighed softly and relaxed further into his embrace, closing her eyes as she listened to Anthony’s heart beating in time with hers.
She awoke hours later. The candles had burnt down and the sky was dark outside the window. She was still in Anthony’s embrace, his hand lazily flung across her stomach, fingers on her thigh. She turned her head to look at him and he blinked at her sleepily, his hair mussed.
“I suspect I might have to marry you now,” Anthony whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“I suspect you might, Lord Bridgerton” Y/N replied, smiling back. She brushed her hand through his hair. “Luckily for you, I’m all yours.”
“Lucky for me indeed,” Anthony murmured, pressing his lips to hers once more. Slowly. Deliberately.
For they had all the time in the world now.
3K notes · View notes
buryustogether · 4 months
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yandere alastor x fem!reader hcs
sfw + nsfw below
i have this idea that, when you were both still human, alastor married you for a marriage of convenience (probably tax purposes). he's not one for love, but he does quite like to make things easier for himself, as well as a bit of reliable companionship from someone he can trust. he found it rather cute that you were head over heels in love with him.
he insists upon keeping you at his side almost 24/7. you accompany him everywhere; to his station while he's broadcasting, about town as he runs his errands, even to his overlord meetings, though you are forced to wait outside. he knows you won't up and disappear; even if you weren't such a good little pet, there isn't anywhere you could run that he couldn't find you.
the other overlords tease alastor about his little 'pet' he keeps on such a tight leash. he doesn't ever object to this title.
gives you dancing lessons and doesn't allow you to rest until you can copy his movements exactly. if you collapse from exhaustion before that, he'll coo and brush your hair out of the way, then haul you to your feet and start again from the beginning.
he won't have you doing much other than keeping your shared home clean and occasionally cooking a meal or two. you're his darling, he can't have you wearing yourself out taking care of him. he'll do most everything - he just wants you to sit there and look pretty for him.
won't allow you to leave the table until you finish the meals he makes for you.
loves to have you hanging on his arm. you're like a precious little trophy for him to show off - only his, and no one else's.
being alastor's beloved companion makes you a prime target for blackmail and kidnappers, but he doesn't want you to fret, dear - he has it covered. his shadows are on your trail in the extremely rare occasion he's not with you, and he's killed demons for less than even looking your way.
doesn't allow any kind of modern technology inside his home or upon your person, even if you died long after him. he considers cellphones to be the property of his enemies, and you wouldn't want him to catch you wearing the symbol of the v's, now, would you?
he picks out your outfits for each day, even has them custom made at the tailor's just for you. he knows best, darling, so don't fight him on this. he doesn't want you going out looking like some common harlot, not when you belong to the radio demon.
often takes out his frustrations of the day on you at night when you're alone in his bedroom. he bites and scratches and thrashes like a beast trapped in a snare, and he relishes in having you wear the marks when he's done.
his favorite position to have you in is plain old missionary; not only is it traditional, but he enjoys having complete control over you while he bucks up into your heat.
like most animal-based demons in hell, he enters a rut once a month and rarely emerges from his quarters; which means you don't, either. at least three times a day, and he only stops to give you rest and to whisper the filthiest things you've ever heard in your ear.
enjoys bondage to an extent, but only on you. he's not opposed to pretty little collars wrapped around your neck, either.
now, when you're in the mood and he's not, he's not totally cruel. while he won't fuck you when and wherever, he'll allow you to straddle his thigh and hump his leg like an animal while he continues whatever work he was doing before.
he may often be brutal, he knows aftercare is extremely important. he can't leave his darling bruised and broken for next time, can he? licks up any blood he may have drawn and ensures you drink when you're done, even if he has to hold your back against his chest and tip your chin up to force the water down your throat. he'll usually run you a bath and, surprisingly, will gently bathe you before dressing you in the finest bedroom silks in hell and putting you to bed.
he doesn't sleep much, but since meeting you, he's replaced many of his nighttime activities with sitting at the side of your bed and watching you sleep.
alastor doesn't love; but he knows he would tear hell apart at the seams if you were ever taken from him.
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danibeanie · 3 months
Text
astro observations MARS edition
-its so easy to spot a earth mars imo. 🧚🏼 They have a no bs energy to them. very practical and level headed they will get their work done and don’t need anyone’s help either!
🧚🏼‍♂️virgo mars=workaholics HEAVY and yeah they just don’t know how to take a break like please take care of yourself more. a bit critical but its comes from them wanting the best for you.
🧚🏼cap mars girlies have such dominant energy it’s very easy for men to be intimidated by these woman. they demand authority without even trying.
🧚🏼I’ve met very little taurus mars in my life which is surprising coming from a taurus rising but they can come off intimidating at first ngl😭 I believe it’s just that nonchalantness they have idk how to explain it but they just dgaf LMAO. they just give a don’t interrupt my work or else😇
🧚🏼‍♀️I have a soft spot for cap mars and scorpio mars it’s no wonder mars exalts in these signs. it’s something admirable coming from a weak mars :,)
🧚🏼‍♀️so many people talk about scorpio mars sexual energy and while yes THEY DO HAVE THAT. i love the determination they put into EVERYTHING. If a scorpio mars wants something they WILL get it.? wether it be work, school, or a relationship. I notice in relationships they tend to study the person b4 initiating and stare often LMAO
🧜🏼‍♀️I attract so many pisces mars in my life, I feel like water mars attract each other way often. they have this easy going dreamy energy to them. they really do go with the flow, kind, a bit head in the clouds but very vulnerable people.
👼🏻as a cancer mars it’s so hard to have motivation when your just not doing well at all. the moon linking with mars makes you think everything emotionally and even thought it’s considered a weakness I believe it’s something beautiful :,) no but seriously I won’t do anything if I don’t feel like it ugh
🧚🏼‍♀️I have a love/hate relationship with aries mars and I believe it’s because they either fall into 11 or 12 house which is not really a good place for synastry but besides that they come off VERY bold. even though mars exalts in this sign I feel like it doesn’t do well in it?😭 now their anger will show real quick but it’s sizzles down just as fast and they have A TON OF ENERGY. can come off insensitive but it really depends on other placements in the chart.
🧚🏼‍♀️leo mars grab people’s attention so quick it’s crazy… they talk and you can just FEEL their energy. I love leo energy and they’re such good souls and funny people. just like other fire mars bold with what they do.
🧚🏼‍♀️I feel like many people water down sag mars anger… my dad has a sag mars and it’s so scary when he gets mad. also the pluto in sag generation can intensify this placement. they have a very philosophical mind and always think about the bigger picture which I like! It’s probably the jupiter influence, really random but I feel like these people would be great teachers LMAO
🧚🏼‍♀️gemini mars are so chaotic and this is coming from someone with a gemini stellium😭 they talk a lot and I love yapping with these people . they have such a fun vocabulary but they can just come off a big wish washy with their energy. It’s like they can just flip a random switch and put a whole diff vibe out. they can really hurt people with their words but their determination is just if they feel quirky that day I feel.
🧚🏼‍♀️now the only libra mars I’ve met is my mom and all I can say is that she avoids confrontation like no other. comes off as passive and it’s kinda ironic me saying this as a cancer mars but yeah. they find beauty in everyday routine which I think is the venusian energy.very kind people and love taking care of themselves
🧚🏼‍♀️never met a aquarius mars so I can’t really say anything but I feel like they would have a eccentric energy! they probably would love hanging out with their friends and find joy in work If there’s something different to do everyday.
QUICK MARS DATING OBSERVATION. 🧚🏼‍♀️
we know that mars energy represents man and that’s usually the first thing I notice in men obv when dating.
-pisces mars men are very shy their cute and lovey but it’s gonna be hard to really know what their feeling cause YOUR gonna have to make the move😭 saying this in the nicest way but they get too in their head about what to do and then they just don’t do it lmao.
- scorpio mars man and I feel like this is one of the few placements that matches my cancer mars. theirs just this underlying feeling of I know ur hella passionate and that’s okay cause I am too.😍they will INITIATE that’s for sure
-sag mars men love:,) this guy was older than me by like 3 years but our chemistry was so good and I think it’s because my venus and his mars made a opposition( good balance). I learned a lot from him
- mars 4th house synastry -I WANNA TAKE CARE OF UUUUU
-mars 7th house synastry - let’s get into a relationship rn even though I’ve talked to you for only a month 😍
-mars 6th house synastry- wow let me take you everywhere with me and let’s basically live together😭
-mars 5th house synastry-“you make me feel like im livin a teenage dream”
-mars 11th house synastry-friends but more than friends? But friends….
THANKS FOR 200 FOLLOWERS YALL 💘
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lovifie · 3 months
Text
Lift Me Off My Feet
Chapter 3: Poltergeist
Masterlist
Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12
3.8k Words
Warning/Notes: Ghost x Reader, a little of ass eating from Ghost, fingering, a bit mean Ghost, hair pulling, angst.
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“Hey, Birdie.”
“Hey, Ghost.”
The two of you look at each other, each expecting the other to make a move. But since he doesn't seem bothered by the silence, you break it.
“Here for work or pleasure?” You ask opening the door as he chuckles.
“Well, that's not my choice.” He answers looking at you. “Half and half, I suppose.”
“Why is that?” You ask as you enter your flat, leaving the door open for him to enter. But when you notice he is not moving you turn to him. “Are you gonna come in or do I need to invite you like a vampire?”
You see the smile on his eyes (mainly because that's the only thing you can see of his face), and he impulses himself off the wall as he walks closer to your door. 
“And what would your neighbours think? A girl like you letting a man like me inside her house?” He asks cocking his head.
“Well, actually, I don't know if you have heard. But just last night my neighbour was taken by the police because turns out he was a terrorist or something like that, I'm not sure. So I think I am out of the competition for worst neighbour of the year, so, yeah, please c’mon in.” 
You hear him chuckle behind your back as you walk into your room, and a little later you hear the door close. Maybe calling it a room is a big stretch, your whole flat is a room. A small hall that goes from the door to where your bed is, a door on the hall to your bathroom and another one to your kitchen. 
Having breakfast in bed sounds great, but having lunch and dinner sounds a bit sad. But that's the flat you could get, and honestly, thanks to your neighbour's hobbies, at least you know the rent is not going to go higher.
“You know, jumping the wall on your balcony was ridiculously easy, you should probably get a lock for that window.” He comments looking at your window as he enters your line of vision.
“Then I would lose my deposit.” You answer sitting down on your bed to take off your shoes. You take off your jacket next and hang it in your closet. “Are you hungry?”
“Hmm, depends on what's the offer.” He says leaning against the wall again. He follows you with his gaze as you walk to your kitchen and open the fridge with a face. He chuckles when you close the door back and look at him. “Takeout?”
“Takeout it is.” You answer taking your phone out. “What do you fancy, Ghost?” 
“You know? Most people freak out when I get inside their house, don't ask me what I want for dinner.” He says crossing his arms.
“Should I freak out?” You ask looking at him with an eyebrow raised as you lend him your phone with the delivery app open. “Order whatever you want, I'm no picky. I'm gonna take a shower, if the food gets here there is money behind that frame.”
You point out the only frame on your whole house and walk into the bathroom. You try to walk with confidence, but once inside the room, you let a sight escape your lips.
When you said yesterday you were going to push Price and Kyle away, you didn't mean it as in pulling the rest of the team closer. 
This is bad, is mean and honestly, you must be on some weird week of your cycle where you are producing more pheromones than usual because you were chronically single for years and now can't seem to catch a break. 
You open the tap to wait for the water to warm up as you undress. Just as you take your shirt off your pants you notice you didn't pick your pyjamas, so you walk back out.
You see Ghost seated on your bed, back leaning against the headboard, feet dangling off the bedside and scrolling through your phone.
“You can take off your shoes, you know.” You comment as you pick up the plaid pants and massive sweatshirt you wear to sleep as well as your underwear.
“You are a sneaky one, you know.” He responds looking at you almost offended he didn't hear you exit the bathroom.
You chuckle at him and walk back inside the bathroom. The shower helps you calm your nerves, the man is in your bed, and he hasn't made any moves yet; probably because he is not into you, you need to humble yourself a bit. 
At some point you hear the doorbell and your stomach grumbles almost as a reaction. You quickly finish your shower, put on your clothes and walk back to the room. 
“Chinese?” You ask when you see the containers as he stays looking around. “Let me get the table out.”
You say winking at him when he looks at you confused and he gets even more confused when you kneel before him. You look up at him, laughing internally at what he must be thinking and then you get your nice arm under the bed and pull the foldable table under it. You take it out and with a shake, you unfold it, take your seat on the bed in front of the table and tap the bed next to you. “Have a seat.”
He sits next to you, his thigh pressed against yours and he takes the container out of the bags opening them. 
After a little, you decide to finally talk about the elephant and the room and ask: “So, did you just drop by in hopes I would invite you to dinner or do you actually have a mission today, Ghost?”
“Oh, yeah, about that. I actually had two missions today.” He says pulling his mask up so he can eat. You try not to stare at the little skin showing, but you quickly notice the stubble on his jaw. Blonde. “First one, finding out we're the girl from the captain's office was. That one was easy, thankfully cause the captain was freaking out. And the second one, figuring out why she left. That one is still ongoing.”
“And if the captain was freaking out why is it you the one that's on my house?” You ask looking at your plate, curious enough to ask but not brave enough to look.
“Cause he was scared the reason you ran away, was because of him or something he did. So he didn't want to make it worse.” He answers simply, you can feel his eyes on you. He bends down a bit to be able to see your face and ask. “Is that why you ran?” You shake your head. “Then why? It looks like you had fun.” 
You turn to him with furrowed eyebrows and notice that he is looking at your neck, you remember the lovebites and quickly try to cover them with your hand. 
“It was just…” you sigh. “I know when I am no longer wanted, and rather than make it awkward by making him drive me back or having to say bye I just… got out before he woke up.” 
“Hm, I still think you should talk to him. I’m pretty sure he wouldn't agree with you with the ‘not being wanted’ thing” He says doing quotation marks with a hand and taking his phone out to send a message with the other.
“He doesn't even know my name. Neither do you.” You almost mumble. I’m just another one on the list, you think. “I think he will be just fine.”
He winces as if he was in pain and says. “You a tough one, birdie.” He cleans off the rest of his plate and stands up. “You don't know my name either and you don't see me throwing a hissy fit.”
“I'm not throwing a hissy fit.” You say rolling your eyes.
“Did you… Did you just roll your eyes at me, birdie?” He says moving the table and standing between your legs. “Now that” He says pointing at your face. “That's a brat move.”
“I'm not a brat!” You try to defend yourself standing up, but as quickly as you get on your feet, Ghost manhandles you to be laying down on your stomach. He sits on top of your ass immobilising your hips and grabs your arm putting them behind your back leaving you unable to move. “Ghost, what the fuck?!”
“Language.” He says and you feel a hard slap land on your ass cheek making you yelp. “Are you going to behave or should I teach you a lesson, birdie?”
“What? What are you talking about? Get off me.” You mumble squirming under him.
“No, I don't think I will until you learn.” He chuckles as he begins to grind against your ass. He bends down to talk to up to your ears. “You should be grateful, that I found you and not Price. Do you know what he would have done if he found out you got back, walking, alone, in the middle of the night?” Three more hard smacks land on the same cheek when he sits up. “And that alone, without talking about the fact you were missing a shirt. And didn't even say goodbye. Not a phone number, not a name, nothing.” He lands two more on the same cheek and an even harder one on the other cheek. Leaving your arse burning and you wouldn't be surprised if it bruised, but still, the most surprising thing about the situation is that you can feel your underwear sticking to your cunt.
You truly are learning about yourself these days. 
He grabs two handfuls of the meat of your arse, pushing your cheeks together as he grinds with a grunt. Then he lets go, you hear the unmistakable sound of his belt being undone and it sends anxiety up your column. He must sense it because he says: “Calm down, birdie. I'm not giving you my cock until you beg for it, and only if you deserve it. And trust me, you don't.” 
He takes his belt off, aligns your forearms and ties them together behind your back. 
“Are you going to talk to Price? You can still leave unscattered.” He asks, putting his hands beside your head and leaning in to be closer to your face.
You look back at him from over your shoulder, face still push against your mattress, and try to look offended by how easily he got you tied, immobilised and horny. “I don't know.”
He makes the sound of a buzzer, like in the contest when they answer wrong. “Not what I want to hear, birdie.”
His index finger hooks the waistband of your pyjama pants as well as your panties, right above your ass and he pulls them down slowly. You hear him whistle as he pulls them down, feeling the cold hair of the room against your skin and against your glistering cunt. “I think I'm going to start by the desert tonight.”
He lands a loud smack on your naked arse, and when you try to complain, the sound gets strangled into a moan when you feel his tongue against your puckering hole. Getting your ass eaten by the mysterious masked man was not on your plans for tonight, but you are not complaining. 
You moan against the mattress, biting the sheets to try and conceal the sounds leaving your mouth. Your consolation, is the fact that you can feel Ghost moan against your skin, the vibrations travelling up to your nape giving you goosebumps. 
He gets his hands under your hips pulling them up, leaving you completely exposed. Ass up, face down, arms tied and knees together by your pants. He pulls back for a second to admire his job, you look already ruined and it's been less than a couple of minutes. 
You await, expectant, his next move, every single thought that was on your mind about how you should push him away and stand your ground, is silenced by the feral voices of your mind scratching the walls with the need for his mouth to be back on you.
“Look at you, birdie. Such a good girl all of a sudden. You are not a brat, you just need that attitude fuck out of you, right, doll?” He asks massaging your waist with both hands. 
“Fuck you.” You mumble, and Ghost lands a slap right to your cunt making you scream and arch your back to find distance from him.
“Language, birdie!” He says chuckling, amused with the situation. “C’mon, play nice, love. Are you going to talk to Price?”
His finger starts to travel up and down your slit, collecting the juices flooding from your cunt. He teases your entrance without getting inside.
“No.” You declared, tired of being played with.
“No?” He ask genuinely surprised. “Oh, I think you will.” He lands another hard slap on your pussy, right on your clit, and position his fingers so that when you arch your back again, you fuck yourself right into his finger. A loud moan escaped your lips at the sudden intrusion.
He raises his hand up to your nape, grabs your hair in a handful and pulls lifting your head off the bed. “I wanna hear you sing, birdie.” His fingers begin to move inside and out of your cunt making you groan softly, raising in volume as his tongue finds her way back to your ass.
You can feel his drool drip down your ass to where his finger is fucking your pussy, only adding to the mess. He uses the knuckle of his middle fingers to brush against your clit making you mewl and causing him to chuckle again. He can feel you clenching around his finger, and he pulls back to ask again. “Are you going to talk to Price?”
“No, fuck, no I won't.” You scream back. And immediately you wish you didn't. Ghost draws his finger back, and remains holding your head but otherwise untouched.
“Wrong answer again, doll. C’mon, tell me what I want to hear and I'll give you what want to get. Are you going to talk to Price?” He asks. “No!” You answer, and the hardest slap to date lands on your ass making you cry out in pain. “Last chance, birdie. Are you going to talk to Price?” He asks again.
You bite your lip, an inner battle going inside your mind. The stubbornness in you taking the lead, not even being reasonable, just stubborn. Another hit snaps you out of it. “Shit! Fine! Whatever, I'll talk to him.” 
“Good girl, birdie.” He grumbles against your ear as his fingers start to piston in and out of your cunt, the sting of the stretch by the second finger completely buried under the waves of pleasure. He keeps whispering pure filth onto your ears, unable to hear him over the ring of your ears caused by the stimulus on your weak point.
You feel drool drip down your chin into the sheets, but you can only focus on the tight knot inside your body. It's unfair how easy it seems to be for these men to make you come undone with barely touching you, it makes you think about those mediocre ex-lovers who would put the blame on you for taking so long to cum. Fuck them, these men, Kyle, Price and Ghost had you coming in minutes without even taking off their clothes.
Ghost brushed his knuckles against your clit again, and you can only moan his name before you are gushing over his hand. He helps you ride out your orgasm and slowly draws back his fingers. 
He stands up chuckling softly, you hear him walk into the bathroom, you hear the faucet open and close and then hear him walk back.
You feel the cold wet towel between your legs and it makes you jump off the surprise. “Sorry, you spend all the warm water, doll.” He says still snickering. He drops the towel on the table, pulls your underwear and pants up, takes his belt back and lies next to you caressing your hair. “Solid, birdie?”
You shake your head. “Pretty sure I'm liquid now, Ghost” You say absent-mindedly and rub your eyes as you yawn. He may have fingered the attitude out of you, but he also fuck the energy out.
“I think it's time for me to leave, thank you for the dinner, birdie. And for the desert.” He says, smiling at you. He lands a peck on your temple and stands up. “Lock your door when I leave. And talk to Price.”
When he turns his back at you, you roll your eyes standing up as well to close the door. He turns on his heels and looks down on you. “And don't roll your eyes at me, birdie. Don't give me an attitude. Lock the door.” He says and lights a cigarette as he makes his way out of the building. 
While you're are cleaning everything, tidying your room, getting ready to get into your bed when you get a message from a contact that is just a skull emoji. 
💀: Lock the door, birdie.
That's what you get for trusting him with you phone to order food.
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“So she didn't say why?” Price asks Simon as he sits in the booth at the pub.
The both of them met there, a pub close to your house, Price too anxious to wait to get back to base to find out about Ghost’s discoveries.
“Negative.” Ghost answers setting the pints down. “She did make a great point, Captain.”
“Which is?” Price ask expecting
“We don't even know her name. Well, we do because of the background check we did to find her, but any of us have asked her.” Ghost responds. “And I thought you were the less hotheaded of the team, Captain.”
Ghost shakes his head as he laughs.
“Maybe try to talk to her when you are not saving her life? Maybe she will feel less overwhelmed then.” Ghost says taking his phone out to check his messages when he notices the vibrations. “Talking about the little bird.”
🐦: I told you I locked the dor
🐦: door*
💀: Awesome
🐦: ?
🐦: Go away, Ghost
💀: What are you talking about, birdie?
🐦: Stop messing with my door, I'm trying to sleep, you weirdo.
💀: It's not me.
💀: Are you sure it's your door and not your neighbours?
🐦: what neighbour?
💀: You and the terrorist are the only tenants on the building?
🐦: STOP MESSING WITH THE DOOR 
🐦: You are giving me the deposit money if you break it.
💀: I'm not at the door.
💀: Birdie?
💀: Don't ghost me now.
💀: Not on purpose.
💀: Birdie?
Ghost knit his brows at the lack of messages and look up to Price who seems lost in thought. “Maybe we need to save her again, Price. Your heart to heart talk will have to wait.”
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7 minutes.
That's all it takes for Ghost and Price to reach your building. Guns in hands as soon as they saw your apartment door busted open.
Price felt his heart sink at the possibility of your being hurt, because of him and his inability to treat you the way he should. Waking up alone didn't hurt as much, he hadn't slept that good in who knows how long, and it was all thanks to the warmth of your body pressed against his.
So now, that only now has he found this comfort, the thought of it being ripped away from him before he could mend his error, was truly heartbreaking.
The nice thing about your house being this small, is that there is not a corner that remains unchecked. And still, you are nowhere to be seen.
But your flat is a mess. The dishes are broken all over the hall and kitchen floor, the fridge is leaning against the wall obviously having been pushed, your clothes are thrown all over the place, your mattress is cut out it's inside thrown around, your clothes mixing with the rest of the mess on the floor, and your wall…
“You will pay for your actions, whore.”
Can be read on the wall, big letters occupying the whole wall.
Your TV is missing, only the metal skeleton that holds it to the wall it's on is place. And your window is busted, that's when he sees it, a chair. On your balcony, as if it was used by somebody to jump.
Price walks up to the balcony so fast, Ghost grabs his shirt unsure of the Captain's plan. “She probably jumped to the apartment next door, Captain. Let's check it.” The younger says to try and calm the Captain. He nods and they both make their way to the apartment next door.
It is just as destroyed as yours, but still, no sign of you. They make their way back to your apartment and Price sits down burying his face on his hands.
Ghost takes out his phone again and he calls you, anxious waiting for you to pick up. But you don't, instead, a silly music begins to sound from under your bed. Tranquillity floods their senses, only for it to be destroyed when the only thing they find is your phone under your bed.
“Fuckin’ hell, birdie. Where are you?” Ghost asks out loud.
THUMD
Both men whip their to the sound, and come face to face with your closet. Now, one of the things you like about your flat, is the closet. Built into the wall. With a ridiculously small space on top of it.
Both men look astonished, as a hand starts to crawl his way out of the false ceiling of the closet. You pop your head next, and when you confirm is the two men and not whoever entered your house just a couple of minutes ago, you start to bawl your eyes out.
When you heard the people force their way into your house, you automatically got yourself into the space on the false ceiling in your closet. You stayed there, contorted into yourself and used every ounce on yourself to not make a noise. 
You heard how they rampaged your little home, how they screamed, how they destroyed everything.
It was merely a couple of seconds, but it felt like hours. And when you heard them come back for a second time, you were certain they would hear the beat of your heart. Until you hear what sounded like the sweetest desert on the universe, Ghost's voice, asking where you were.
The sheer fear that just saved your life, now turned you into a sobbing mess of tears and drool as you melt onto Ghost's arms once he holds you.
You feel Price's hand rubbing your back as he kisses your shoulder shushing you.
“It's all right, darling. We are here now. You are safe. No one is going to get to you now.”
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Hii! 💗
Hoped you liked the new chapter, reader collecting these men like they are pokemon hehe wish that was me
Taglist: @pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline
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jaxon-exe · 1 year
Text
Dp x dc prompt
One day John Constantine decides to check in on the known ghost hotspot that is Amity Park and find it over run with ghost of all sorts. After over coming his first thought of “just walk away, not your problem” and deciding that it is his problem he started investigating from the shadows and finds out about Phantom. His first conclusion is that maybe phantom is the one releasing the ghost. He can obviously tell that phantom has some sort of savour complex and thinks “is this kid releasing the ghost so that he can hunt them down and save the town??” and starts looking into phantom.
That is until one day he sees phantom at the end of a rather long day. Multiple ghost having attracted throughout the previous night and all day long leaving Danny at the end of his rope, running on no sleep in the last 24 hours, utterly exhausted and he just breaks down in a back alley. John sees this from a distance and is like “ok this kid isn’t the cause of this. He’s just doing his best.”
So with phantom removed as a suspect John investigates other leads as to what might be causing the sudden spike in ghosties when the nest ghost attack happens. Up until this point he’s been following a “not my circus, not my monkeys” mentality and just letting phantom deal with the ghost and was gonna do the same thing, had turned around and started to walk away to…
….
… but god dammit the kid seems to be struggling.
So John reluctantly joins in the fight and helps phantom, revealing his presence to the kid for the first time. Now that phantom knows about him tho he can’t just walk away from any of the other fight so John ends up helping him out a lot. After a while of this John gets the bright idea of “hey the kid might not be the ones freeing the ghost but he might know the cause of it” and ask phantom about it.
Danny however being slightly paranoid clams up at the question not wanting himself or his parents in trouble and says he doesn’t know anything. U know like a liar 
Thing is Danny’s shit at lying and John sees right threw that but dammit he doesn’t know how to deal with kids???? Let alone teenagers!! Let alone dead teenagers!! The fucks he supposed to do??????
After thinking about it for awhile he could only thing of one thing.
*ring* *ring*
*ring* *ring*
*rin*-
Batman: John…
John: yeah good to hear from you to mate, lesson I got a question
Batman: hmm
John: hypothetically, if you had a case where your only lead is a kid that knowns something they probably shouldn’t and is very reluctant to tell you said thing, what would you do??
Batman:…
Batman: how old
John: 13-14??
Batman: buy them a burger. Earn their trust. Reassure them they aren’t in trouble.
John: how bloody long is that gonna take??
Batman: your in for the long hall *hangs up*
John:…. Shit
Cut to John sitting on top of a water tower with a bag of take out, felling strangely like he’s trying to coax out a stray cat, as he waits for phantom to drop his invisibility and just come eat with him. 
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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months
Note
hear me out..what abt u and miguel in a hotub trying to hide that fact that you guys are literally screwing eachother in front of the others🤭🤭and he’s talking u through it..whispering in ur ear..telling u to be quiet while he’s literally roaming his hands all over u! 😋😋
this is a leeetle bit funny to me bc in real life, sex is the last thing i'd wanna do in a hot tub. But for Miguel..... 😍😍
Wandering Hands
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: Husband!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
summary: You're on a trip away with your husband, Miguel. He gets handsy. (Hot tub sex + Husband!Miguel)
warnings: 18+ , fingering, p in v, instructional, Miguel talks you through it, teeny tiny bit of f!dom, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, very very sappy. Minors DNI
a/n: this is disgustingly sappy and cheesy at some points - I kinda have to apologise in advance. I've had a rough week lmao
very big thank you to my beta reader @tianyhi <33
wc: 2.7k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wandering hands: Miguel has wandering hands. 
It's your anniversary, and that's the thought you're left with as he kneads your thigh, eyes low at a fancy resort. A resort you practically dragged him to, mind you.  He's a workhorse; absorbed in his job and everything that comes with it. Your husband; diligent and devoted, as always; he needed a break. Somewhere hot, somewhere expensive. It’s what he deserved. And whilst he would never take the initiative to book one for himself, isn't that what a wonderful SO was there for?
To his credit, he's been 'unplugged' since the moment you got here - putting away his work laptop and ignoring all the calls he'd get from overbearing clients. His sole focus for this whole week is you; and he's made that abundantly clear. The lingering looks, gentle touches: everything about him screams love and warmth. And he's all yours - a fact that still sends you spiralling, every now and then. All yours. 
"You're not paying attention, cariño." He says under his breath, swirling the wine under his nose like the man in front of him. 
You're both at a wine tasting, like sophisticated adults (...who had made fun of the idea on the way over). Miguel's wearing pressed trousers that hang on his frame just right, and a tank top underneath an open button-up. The peek of flesh makes you hot under the collar like a Victorian housewife, and you flush when you realise you're staring. Miguel pinches your cheek with a laugh, soothing it with a simple kiss. 
Huffing, you take a sip of the expensive wine without thinking. There’s a gasp from the sommelier, and the small group turns to look at you. Your face heats up when you realise what you’ve done - shirking from the pack of eyes silent with sharp critique. A man beside you taps your shoulder with a slimy smile. 
“Miss, that’s a 1978 Monfortino. It probably costs more than your rent.” 
“...I thought this was a wine tasting. So eventually, we have to… taste. The wine.” Miguel chuckles into his drink, squeezing at your waist. You make a fair point.
The man laughs, smug. “With all due respect, it’s an experience of the senses… maybe this is your first time somewhere with this kind of price tag, but it’s quite rude to-”
Miguel clears his throat, flashing a disarming smile at the man to your side. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, with a dangerous veneer you’ve seen before. The smile he gives before closing a big deal at work, calculated and shiny – when he smells blood in the water. 
“With all due respect, watch your fucking tone.” 
His face drops just as quickly, and he downs the rest of his wine, standing up - hand outstretched to take you with him. Gladly, you follow, click-clacking in your heels and little dress; hand tight around his.
“...Pinche idiota…vete a la verga…smug little-” It’s under his breath, but his intensity makes you giggle. 
In the elevator up to your room, he stews, brow creased in little furrows. A force of habit, he pulls you closer, tucking away a stray strand of hair. With a smile, you knead his temples, smoothing the creases. He visibly softens and leans into your touch.
“You’re on vacation, Miguel. Relax, baby.” 
“S’not that simple.” He grumbles, but chases your lips with his own, regardless.
Defiant, you move at the last moment, chin up in the air.
“No, I’m being serious.” He snakes a hand to your ass, dancing over the hem of your dress. 
"I could think of a few ways to decompress, if you're up for it…" Voice low and silky, want pools at the base of your stomach. 
"Miguelito, the bedroom voice doesn't work on me, anymore." You slather on the charm, batting your eyelashes in a way that makes him laugh. He rolls his eyes. 
"Let's do something. I think…I think the spa's still open? We could get a massage-" 
"I don't want a massage unless it's you, baby."
"...or go to the sauna-"
"Didn't pack the right clothes, m'afraid."
"God, don't be mean." It's your turn to roll your eyes. And you whack at his chest, admonishing him gently. "What about the hot tubs?"
He turns his head to the side as if he's deep in thought. Pondering, weighing up the options; when really, the only thought in his head was you in a tiny bikini. 
"If you insist, cariño." 
~~~
The spa isn't too far from your hotel, a stone's throw from the beach. You walk with Miguel in the pleasant evening heat, flip-flops and cover ups light on your back. 
There at the back, open air, behind rows of beach houses and overlooking the sea. You settle into the tubs, each one sectioned by wooden slats and climbing plants - not visible from the main spa, but not completely closed off, either. You can still hear the quiet buzz of other people, although it's not too full this late in the day. 
You slip the light fabric onto the floor, and step out of the cover-up. Miguel, already in the water, watches the light ripple off of your skin. You don't catch him staring, but you feel it. His gaze is heavy as he drinks it in; you are dappled and gorgeous, and his heart is full. You slip in, shuffling up close to him in the dull thrum of the water jets. 
Eyes closed, you rest your head on his shoulder. "You're staring." 
"Yeah." It's so soft, said in the press of warm bodies, that you almost don't hear it. Playfully, he flicks your forehead - in that little triangle between your eyebrows that appears when you're resting. It's cute, he thinks. "...you got a problem with that?"
Laughing, you shake your head. "It's not too much?" 
He moves closer to you, hands on your hips and mouth pressing soft kisses into your neck. 
"The trip, I mean. It was a little last minute, and there was that thing with our passports…" You sigh, turning towards him, hand on his chest to stop him. "I just thought you needed a break. And I know this isn't usually your thing, but I want you to enjoy yourself. If you're not, let me know, and I'll book the first plane out of here, I promise." 
You're looking up at him, clearly worried, and his heart breaks. It's almost as if you've forgotten that an anniversary entails both people, together as one. The truth is, as long as he's with you, and you're having a good time… 
"Doesn't matter where we go, cariño. I'm right where I need to be if I'm with you." He says it like a statement - so matter-of-factly it makes your head spin. Because, you suppose, to him it was a ubiquitous truth: that in every universe, every iteration, the both of you belonged together. What would sound over the top or cheesy coming from someone else, is made so simple by Miguel. A fundamental truth: his home, his happiness, his heartaches and highest highs, were with you, and you alone. 
"Promise me."
"Hand on my heart, baby." He places a palm that spans the crest of his ribcage. "...I promise."
He guides you onto his lap, so your back presses to his. His kisses are so light and airy, you don't notice how his hand creeps towards your thigh and the gentle movement of his hips under yours. 
"You always take care of me," His hand snaps the band of your bikini bottoms, making you writhe on his lap. "Let me return the favour. Relax, cariño."
You nod, gently, eyes blown when you realise what exactly that means. Miguel's large palms dance over your tummy, pinching at the flesh to make you laugh; and then down to your thighs, to paw at them. He shifts, directing you over the jet by the base of the seat, and there is delicious pressure at your clit. 
He cups your pussy under the foam of the water, ripping a heady moan of which you try to subdue. You lean into it: the hand that's now migrated into your bikini, the rock of his hips, and the hickeys he sucks into skin. Coupled with the fact you were in public, he brings you to climax quicker than even he expected. You were so needy, everything about your body telling him you wanted more - needed more. He presses the pad of his finger over your clit, barely there, and you claw at his arms under the water. 
"More?" He coos, dulcet tones brushing the shell of your ear. "Pórtate bien,  okay?" 
So lost in your haze, you don't register the steady padding of a pair of people coming towards you, behind the wooden divider. A head pops over, and you still his wandering hands. 
"Oh, there y'all are!" You see the bronzed face of Jess and her husband, a couple you had met during the trip. She bounces towards you both with dizzying accuracy, donned in a bright swimsuit and sheer cover up around her waist. Her husband is quieter, opting for a nod to Miguel, behind you. 
"Can we join you? Hope we aren't interrupting anything."
Miguel meets your eyes. 
"Is it okay?" He says, a thousand words said in your exchange. We don't have to do anything, it's up to you.
"It's fine," You breathe and then louder, to Jess. "It's fine."
He kisses your forehead and squeezes you closer, shifting so you feel his growing length under his shorts. An action that would seem innocent to a passer-by but below the surface… 
He starts off slow, imperceptible movements as he strokes your clit. It makes you impatient, irritated that he had the audacity to start something he couldn't finish. Or, wouldn't, rather. You make lazy conversation with Jess and her husband; innocuous little things that barely take your mind off of Miguel behind you. 
Some time goes by, and he's somewhat conservative – hand pressed against your pussy like his fingers were made for you. You get used to the pressure, as Jess talks about her day.
"...they're having a sale, as well! We're gonna go back there tomorrow, because, God, there were these earrings that I couldn't take my eyes off of, real gold, and only-" 
"Fuck!" He slips two fingers in, without warning, sinking to the knuckle as your little hole adjusts. Jess pauses, a little confused. 
"I was just…" He scissors them ever so slightly, enjoying watching you squirm. "...t-thinking about how great that deal was. Like… fuck! Real gold!" 
Internally, you wince, hoping she buys it. Jess isn't stupid, but you don't think she knows you well enough to notice your husband fingering you in a hot tub. You hope. 
"Right." She gives you the benefit of the doubt. "Not gold-plated, real gold."
You nod, hoping the foam from the jets is hiding the way you rock into Miguels' fingers. They feel good, curling up into you at that spongy spot he knows too well. 
"There's a good food spot, by the boardwalk. I think they do…" She turns to her husband, who has an arm draped around her. 
"Pasta, baby."
"Pasta! Yes, of course. We had a gorgeous meal and they served mussels, with the dish you were on about, before."
A beat. And then another. There’s a pregnant pause, before Miguel nudges you gently. "Yeah, sorry. It was the… garlick-y… one that had, um…"
You can't concentrate, against his wide torso, his hands between your legs: your brain goes fuzzy. You catch a smile tugging at his lips; and you almost scream. It's cruel, and all he can do is laugh. 
"Miguel's more interested in that stuff, m'afraid." You give her a weak smile, and Miguel rewards you with a thumb to your clit. 
It takes you everything not to jump at the pleasure that rocks your core; and you clamp a hand to his thigh. You make eye contact and he smiles; the smug fuck; gently chattering on with Jess about your trip to a local market, the other day. He's as casual as can be, and seemingly unaffected. 
You try your hardest to nod and smile where necessary; giving simple answers that wouldn't require much thought. In the cool night air, the conversation is pleasant enough, but your husband insists on stretching out your orgasm – watching for the tell-tale signs and pulling away. It's a game of cat and mouse; and whilst you just want to get off, Miguel takes pleasure in the chase. 
"We should be heading off, I think." Jess says after a while. "Just wanted to catch up with you two."
Miguel smiles, dizzying and innocuous. "We're happy to, Jess."
They slip out with a splash, and she nods towards you. "You ok, sweetheart? You just seem a bit out of it, today."
Perhaps too hastily, you nod. "I think…I t-think it was something I ate."
"Oh." She looks a little worried, and it makes you feel guilty. "You get better then. I'll give you a call tomorrow."
"Thanks, Jess." And with that, they make their way out. 
Once out of sight, Miguel speeds up, his other hand on your thigh to wrench your legs open. The speed makes you dizzy, melting with your head back on his shoulder and desperately humping his hand for some relief. The rock and slosh of water over tiles barely registers in your fog. 
As you moan and writhe, he whispers filth into your ear. 
"Quieter, cariño. What if someone hears?" You whine and all he does is chuckle, lowly. "What if they find you, spread on my lap, fucking yourself on my fingers?" 
"You're being mean."
"Eso no es justo, amor." He titters, shaking his head. "You told me to relax, no? This is how I want to relax." 
Tears prick at your eyes, as he uses his other hand to rub circles into your clit, the warm froth washes over you both, but all you can feel is him. 
"¿Dime que quieres, hermosa?" What do you want?
"M'close, Miguel." You bite down another moan. “I’m ready.”
"Want to feel it, baby. Cum for me."
You tilt your head to the side, and he captures your lips with his own – in awe as you clamp around his fingers. Grinding down on his crotch, you ride out your orgasm. The way he makes you feel is hot, and wet and filthy. 
When your shaking legs still, you turn around to face him. He's hard, and too much of a gentleman to take his own pleasure. You slip a hand into his shorts, hand hot against his cock. It's his turn to lean into the bliss: head back and lips slightly parted with pleasure. 
You've always liked his lips, plump and kissable, a pretty pink that just fits against yours. 
"You're teasing." He hisses softly. 
You scrape your nails along his chest, and he keens, clutching your hand close to his heart. 
"...and what exactly have you been doing all night?“ You make a tight ring with your fingers, squeezing his tip and his hips jump up. 
"Vale, vale, vaaale…." He paws at you waist, a little desperate. "Fuck- I get it."
You give him a kiss, wet and needy, before slipping the gusset of your bikini to the side and sinking down on his length. He cries out and you swallow it, pressing yourself even closer to him. With your tits against his chest like that, he can't think straight. You shift against his length, finding a steady rhythm but it's too slow – and Miguel grows impatient. With a growl, he places both hands on your hips, forcing you downwards as you writhe on his length. 
"Dámelo, dámelo…" He slams his cock into you - hard and fast and just the way you like it. "Just like that, baby, just like-" 
That growing coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you clamp around him. But he doesn't stop, just fucks you through it until he cums, hot and sticky fluids spilling into you. Panting, you capture him into a kiss. You separate, and he's got a dopey smile on his face. 
Content. Relaxed, even. 
~~~
Jess calls you the morning after, and you answer. 
"Hey, everything ok?" You yawn into the receiver, a little tired from last night's activities.
"I said I would call, didn't I?" 
You hum. "...suppose you did."
"You feeling better now Miguel's not playing with your pussy in a hot tub?" 
Shit. You almost drop the phone. "Jesus, we didn't-" 
"Save. It." She grumbles something you can't quite hear; something you suspect you're better off not hearing, anyways. 
"...Sorry. We weren't really thinking."
"Damn straight." She pauses. "I'm not mad, sweetheart. Can’t even judge you, to be honest. As I always say, it's not a real vacation until you fuck your husband somewhere you shouldn't-" 
"Gross, Jess."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did the woman who got fingered in a hot tub just say something??" 
You wince at the vulgarity of her words. 
"....Ouch." 
She laughs into the speakerphone, and you join her. Besides you, Miguel stirs, a little smile on his face. Half asleep, he thinks he’s heard an angel, voice light and airy in the space of your hotel room.
_
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Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @tea-earl-grey-thot
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lymmsweb · 11 months
Text
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Until I found you
🕷pairing : miguel o’hara x spider!reader
🕷word count: 1095
🕷warnings: non sexual intimacy, description of wounds, nudity, minor ATSV spoilers
🕷summary: Lyla alerts Miguel that you’re injured, Miguel takes it upon himself to help you
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🕸 After he set up the Spider association you were one of the first that joined, he didn’t feel much for you at first but after going on countless missions together he trusted you more than anyone.
🕸He gave up on finding love after his daughter died, he felt as if he didn’t deserve a good relationship after all the damage he caused. You were one of the few people that helped him through his guilt and sadness after the event, often cracking jokes with Peter B. to get Miguel to crack even the littlest of smiles.
🕸 He never truly got over his daughters death but he slowly started to act softer and more affectionate with you. He would hang around the lobby more, he didn’t really know why but he always felt like he was looking for someone every time he went out. All most each time he came out of his ‘office’ you would always find a way to lock eyes with him or even strike up a conversation and each time he’d always let his rough exterior fall and shoot you a small smile.
🕸 Normally in his free time you’d always be with him eating Empanadas or Arepas in the kitchen, working in silence next to each other, checking up on you daily and slightly leaning into your touch whenever you’d accidentally bump into him. Miguel even gave you special authorisation with Lyla that no one but him had.
🕸 It was when Lyla alerted him that you were severely hurt after a mission gone horribly wrong he quickly dropped everything and rushed over and into your dimension. You were bloody and bruised, sitting on your living room floor panting and exhausted. Miguel’s heart dropped for a second,at the thought of loosing you he’s reminded of how his daughter hung onto him before she disappeared.
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“Mierda! What happened?” he panicked as he bolted over to the medical kit you kept under your bed. He knew where everything was in your house, he crashed many times to your place durning restless, nightmare filled nights. He fumbled a bit as he grabbed it, hurriedly making it back to you making sure he didn’t knock anything over. Without hesitance he started to rip your suit off to get more access around the wounds.
“Buy me a drink first.” you chuckled weakly as you watched him furrow his brows as he started to disinfect the gash in your thigh.
“You only need one drink to sleep with me?” he joked as he to reach over to grab the needle and stitches, rubbing your leg gently with his other hand. He knew he had to ask what had happened but he decided against it just in case you would start stressing out more, although this didn’t stop him seething with rage every time he saw your bruised and cut face.
“Cielo this going to hurt.” he apologetically looked at you before he started to close the wound, with every painful noise you let out his heart broke just a little more, reminding him yet again how in his daughters final moments she was also making those noises. It didn’t take him long before he was finished, putting away all the medical equipment he made Lyla scan you for any internal damage. It turned out you had a concussion but apart from that you were somewhat ‘okay’.
“You should probably wash yourself.” Lyla chimed in, looking closely at your body before turning around to wink at Miguel. He scoffed in annoyance and swatted her away. She always enjoyed pushing her limits with him.
“Come let’s get you cleaned up.” blush crept up on your cheeks as he bent down and picked you up bridle style, trying his hardest to not touch any bruises as he gripped onto you harshly. He swiftly moved around furniture and rooms until he made it to the bathroom, setting you down on the toilet seat before turning to get the bath ready. He stared at the water slowly filling up the tub lost in though, what if he got there sooner, what if you died, what if…? He didn’t know what he’d do if you were no longer by his side, if he didn’t get to hear you again, to feel you again-
“Romeo, you okay?” your teasing words snapped him out of his trance, his head snapped towards you, just blankly meeting your eyes.
“I should be asking you that.” he hummed as he looked you up and down, taking in the way your torn suit stuck to the curves of your body. The way your lips were slightly parted showing your front teeth, the way you looked at him intensely back. He felt like he was under your microscope as you were studying ass his features too.
“Miguel..” you placed your hand on his knee, softly rubbing it. Once he heard you softly whispering his name, touching him so gently he realised just how much he was deeply in love with you, he would’t be able to having you not there in his life.
“Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” Miguel replied as he grabbed your hand intertwining his fingers in yours as he stood up, bringing you up with him. “Also the bath is ready, do you need a drink firs-“
“Shut up.” a light smack to his chest interrupted him, earning a small laugh both of you. Miguel silently asked for permission, waiting for you to allow him to help. You offered him a nod and smile, relaxing your body as he started to strip away the layers from your body, each little touch was like electricity against your skin. It took a while before you were down to nothing. He stayed silent, not letting his eyes wander around your naked form keeping strong eye contact.
He grabbed your hand and helped you into the tub, worried you’d end up slipping and hurting yourself even more, sitting down in the water felt like a blessing against your skin, finally getting all the seat and blood off of your skin was rejuvenating. Miguel felt his heart flutter as he realised how domestic the scene in front of him was, finding comfort in the love and trust you gave him. He walked around searching for your floral scented shampoo and your citric body wash, humming a song quietly to himself. Once he retrieved everything you needed, he passed you the bottles and sat down next to you playing with your hair, watching you intently as you cleaned your blood off of you.
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a/n: Cielo - Sky (affectionate nickname) Mierda - Shit . I’ll def be writing more Miguel so whatever nickname he says in spanish is normally what my parents call eachother! The title is taken from this song. Also i just redid my page, hope y’all like it!!!
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gloomygumi · 7 months
Text
quirks - satoru gojo x gn!reader
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summary: part two︱you like to think you’re aware of all of satoru’s quirks, but shoko thinks you may have missed a few.
contents: fluff, newly realised feelings, highschool!gojo, he's honestly not even actually there for a lot of it, shoko and geto are tho, honestly a little bit of whipped gojo, probably ooc but definitely self indulgent
word count: 1.2k
a/n: how are we coping since 236 guys ????? wrote this feeling like i’d been widowed so i guess this counts as my coping mechanism 😭 hope you enjoy anyway, constructive criticism and any ideas or opinions you have are always welcome !!
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in your past year of knowing satoru gojo, you’d made a note of his multiple quirks.
you noticed how when the group of second years went out to eat together at the weekends, he would whine about how good everyone else’s food looks until everyone at the table took pity (or annoyance, in suguru’s case) and spooned some of their meal onto his plate.
you noticed how when he was in class, listening to yaga drone on about the different types of curses, he would never let all of the legs of his chair rest on the ground. he was constantly swinging back and forth. it’s a miracle that he’s never fallen back, you think.
you even noticed how he somehow kept a momento from every single hangout and mission, each of them stored in a little wooden box he kept on his bedside table back in the dorms. in the past, you’d seen him slide seemingly worthless ticket stubs and receipts into his pockets, and when the curiosity finally got the better of you and you asked what he did with them, you only received a cheeky grin and a wink from your friend.
so, when shoko finally told you some of her own observations of his behaviours and habits during your lunch break one day, it’s safe to say it shocked you.
“i think it’s pretty obvious that he likes you.” she speaks casually, as if her words hadn’t caused you to choke on your own food. she passes you her bottle of water and pats your back. “you couldn’t tell?”
after gulping down half of her water, and spluttering a few times, you finally found your voice, letting out a strangled “he’s my friend - he does not like me like that!”
the look shoko gives you is one of ridicule, but before she can say anything else, you quickly continue.
“how’d you even come to that conclusion anyway, you’re not usually much of a gossip. that’s suguru’s job." you attempt to joke, but you feel the strained smile drop from your face as the boy you mentioned approaches the table and plops down beside your friend.
speak of the devil...
you see shoko's eyes light up, but before you can even attempt to cut her off again, she turns to suguru. "geto! back me up here, isn't it so obvious that gojo likes (y/n)?"
"mhm." he hums, barely even acknowledging the fact that his confirmation has sent you spiraling for the second time. "he's not exactly subtle about it."
"you guys are being ridiculous."
now it's suguru's turn to look at you like you've suddenly grown two heads. "you really didn't know?"
shoko lets out a laugh at his genuine confusion, and reaches into her bag to pull out a cigarette. you quickly hand her a lighter you keep on hand just for moments like this and she quietly thanks you before continuing. "have you never noticed how he's always touching you in some way?"
"that's just how he is!" you defend. "he's always hanging off of suguru too!"
the pair in front of you share a look, before geto continues. "what about how he never lets you walk closest to the road?"
you stop for a second, trying to pinpoint an occasion - just one - where he had only to come up empty handed. in fact, the more you think about it, the more sense it makes. you replay your moments walking back to the dorms after class with satoru, with his arm always casually wrapped around your shoulder. you remember how he always looked comfortable and at peace. you even remember how he would gently bump you closer into the sidewalk if you were walking with someone else, sticking his tongue out at you and ruffling your hair if you voiced a complaint at his behaviour.
your mouth dries up as you try to come up with another excuse to brush off your friends' observations, but you start to question yourself.
maybe they're right...?
you shake you head, as if trying to clear your head of these thought. "he does that for everyone, you guys are just reading too much into it."
between drags of her cigarette, shoko chuckles. "he's never done it for me." geto leans forward from his seat across from you and gently flicks in between your eyebrows. your hand immediately clamps down on the spot, and you groan at him. "what was that for!?"
he ignores your dramatics. "why are you so sure that we're lying?"
his genuine question makes you stop to think. it wasn't that you didn't like gojo, in fact, you hadn't dedicated much time to thinking about him in that way at all. your friends being so insistent on the fact that he liked you made you slowly start to realise that maybe you did share some affections for the ill mannered boy.
you continue to mull over as many interactions and memories that you have shared with satoru, slowly connecting the dots in your head. he always was more gentle with you, never polite but always kind. he regularly brought you souvenirs back from missions that you weren't assigned to and he always insisted on sitting next to you on the train home, offering you the window seat every single time.
almost as if they can hear your inner monologue being to spiral, shoko pipes up once more. "he gave you a different ring tone so he'd know every time you call."
you feel your heart stop for a second, unsure as to why this in particular made you finally believe their words, but before you even have the opportunity to dismiss them again (now in an attempt to convince yourself more than them) you feel the seat beside you sink with additional weight and a familiar arm flung around your shoulder. you barely even register the smug smile shoko is flashing you from across the table as you focus on attempting to cool your face.
"i can't believe you guys started eating without me!" satoru whines, leaning even more heavily into your side. he makes quick work of plucking a large chunk of meat out of your bento, sending you a sly grin as you look up at him in dismay. "what were you guys talkin' about?"
suguru meets your eyes, raising his eyebrows as he meets your glare, urging him to shut his mouth. "oh nothing." he hums, before completely changing the subject.
the conversation from moments prior is still fresh in your mind, and you're now very aware of the soft glances gojo keeps sending your way. you suddenly feel a lot more awkward in his presence, and you barely notice how you're fidgeting with your hands under the table and not participating in the conversation anymore.
that is until you feel warm hands grip your own, effectively halting their movement. "you okay?" you can barely hear satoru over the blood pumping in your ears, and you're unaware of the laughs shoko and geto are trying desperately to hold back whilst watching the scene as you try to speak.
you start to wish your friends had kept their observations to themselves.
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luveline · 9 months
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WOULD LOOOVE to see badass reader get jealous over someone flirting with spencer
ty for requesting ♡ —spencer reassures you when he catches the eye of a receptionist at the ocean city precinct. fem!reader, 1.3k
Hotch lives on coffee lately. Any type from any source, he doesn't care what it tastes like so long as it keeps him awake. You're similar, in that even if you hated it, you'd keep it to yourself. 
But you're frowning in disgust at your cup. Eyebrows wrinkled, lips in a fierce line. Hotch sighs and puts his hand on the back of your chair. "Are you alright?" he asks. 
You've never told him otherwise. "Fine. Thank you." 
"There's water in my bag," he offers. You won't meet his eyes. You probably have a headache. "And aspirin." 
For as long as he's known you and worked with you, you've been as you are now, quiet, stern, with little sense of humour at work and not much more outside of it. The only evidence of your soft heart is how you work like a dog, and how you treat your coworker, Spencer. He's your achilles heel, your tender spot in all the tough scarring. Hotch knows there's nothing anyone can do to make you feel better if they aren't him. 
Hotch turns on the spot to look for him. The case you're working on here in Maryland has hit a lul, and exhausted faces peek out from behind their desks at Hotch's looking. He searches for the short mop of brown hair that's required and finds it in an unusual place. 
Spencer has been waylaid by a receptionist. Glimmering eyes, shiny silver fingernails that tap the desk in front of her as she speaks, the receptionist clearly has Spencer hanging on. He takes a step back and she doubles down, her storytelling audible from across the room. 
"You'll have to see it for yourself, Dr. Reid, it's a sight!" 
Hotch looks at you from the corner of his eye. "I see." 
"Don't know what you're talking about," you mutter. You stand and tip your coffee into the bin, letting the cup fall in after it morosely. 
"Why don't you go and help Reid?" Hotch asks. 
"Help Reid what?" you ask. Your tone betrays you —jealousy, sure, that slight crisp to your words that must hurt on the way out, but worse is the weakness as your sentence ends. You're jealous, and it's upsetting you. "I don't think I want to help him with that." 
Derek swings into the sequestered space you've been using to operate and beams at you like he knows exactly what you're thinking. 
"Isn't it surprising how quiet he can be? Years of catching bad guys and he can't say no to a pretty woman," Derek says, giving you a knowing look.
You and Derek have a half-hearted rivalry in that he loves to flirt and you disapprove. Your soft spot extends solely to Spencer no matter how hard Derek tries to sway you, though as you and Spencer have gotten closer, you've softened.
Hotch thinks that Derek's teasing might erase any progress that's been made. 
"Morgan," he says reproachfully. 
Derek makes a who, me? face but quickly gives in. "Why don't you go save him?" he asks you. 
"He doesn't need saving. Spencer is a grown man who can make his own choices," you say quietly. 
Hotch bites his tongue. Thankfully, Derek speaks up, without any teasing. "Spencer's been expected to  know how to do things without any help since he was a kid. I really think he just doesn't know how to walk away." 
You look down at your hands. Hotch has been doing his job for a long time, and he can guess what you're thinking from a misaligned finger. You don't feel like you measure up to the woman at reception. You're insecure about Spencer's affection for you, because you can't understand why he likes you so much to begin with. Hotch has thought it about Haley, Derek of Savannah. It's a very human doubt.
"Spencer tends to stand straight," Hotch says, bringing the lip of his paper cup up. "Right now, he's leaning away." 
It's in as simple terms as he can put it without outright telling you that he really, truly believes that Spencer wouldn't bother with anyone who isn't you. That Spencer loves you in the young, all encompassing way, even though neither of you seems to have realised the depth of it yet. 
Confident, no air of the girl frowning down at her hands, you leave the nook to approach Spencer from behind. 
"Hi," Hotch hears you say, "you okay?" 
Spencer visibly relaxes. "Hey, I'm fine. Uh, Y/N, this is Anabelle. Annabelle, this is my partner, Y/N." 
"Partner?" Derek asks. 
It's news to Hotch. Perhaps news to you, if the way you take his hand is any hint. It's like you've never held it before, and Hotch knows you have, he's seen you linking pinkies under tables. 
You strangle his fingers with yours. Spencer doesn't move an inch.
"She was just telling me about the sightseeing you can do here. Have you ever seen the world's longest worm on a string?" he asks you. 
"Hi, Annabelle," you say, turning to Spencer with poorly masked whiplash. "We're gonna try narrowing the search radius." 
"Oh, right." Spencer lets go of your hand in favour of putting a hand behind your shoulder, saying his thank yous and goodbyes to Annabelle before guiding you back to the makeshift BAU base camp. "What took you so long?" 
"What took me so long?" you ask.
"I thought you liked me!" Spencer says, teasing, his voice pitching higher. "I didn't know how to tell her I've already read the pamphlet she was quoting. She seemed nice though, right?" 
"She seemed nice, Spence," you agree, a little wobbly still but a thousand times less sullen than before. "I– of course I like you, you know I like you. Right?" 
Hotch is proud of Spencer for how remarkably he responds. Spencer puts his body between you and Hotch and Derek where they're standing to offer you the privacy you prefer, dropping his voice to match your tentativeness. "Yeah, I know. I was kidding. I think they'd have to reassess my position on this team if I didn't know that." He grabs your arm, thumb pressing into the crook of your elbow. "Are you okay?"
"I thought maybe she was flirting with you." 
Spencer shrugs uneasily. "Maybe. It wouldn't make a difference to me. Do you know that?" 
Your head dips down. Hotch can't hear what you say, honestly, he doesn't want to know. Eavesdropping on the people he cares about in their unhappy moments isn't something he makes a habit of, but it's hard not to hear Spencer's response. "Don't say that," he murmurs. "That's not true… We'll talk about it later, okay?"
You clear your throat. "Yeah. Whatever you want."
Derek doesn't hide that he's been listening very well, pulling a crime scene document up to his eye line as you and Spencer pull apart. Your eyebrows furrow into a glare, but it's Spencer who says, "What?" 
Hotch bites back a smile. Derek grins and holds his hands up in surrender. 
"Just nice to see you taking care of my favourite girl," he smarms.
"Stop. You're extremely unprofessional," Spencer says, helping you into your seat unnecessarily.
"And you're not?" Derek asks, gesturing to his hand where it lingers behind your shoulders. 
You finally chip in, apparently back to your regular self. "Only one of us was responsible for a unit wide HR mandate about inappropriate behaviour." 
"You cannot keep bringing that up." 
"Why not?" 
Hotch takes a sip of his tepid coffee. He'd rather not get involved. 
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strawbeerossi · 3 months
Text
August || Chapter One
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Chapter Description: After a few days, you are back at the office whenever you have an emotional outburst over the JJ/Spencer situation. That leaves you to have a soul shattering boundary you need to put into place.
Content/Warnings: Drama in the workplace, mentions of questioning self worth, Penelope is the best friend ever (duh), horrible friends, Spencer is an ass (again, sorry lmao)
WC: 2K
Navigation || August Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Request
🏷️ @sadroses98 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @cultish-corner @s0urmarvel @measure-in-pain @yourfavoritefangirl @imjustheretoreads-blog @bookworm003 @finnysmusic @itsbritney123 @hizzielover @tlou-reid @babyspiderling @sunsebaessie @lilrios-world @reidsdaisies @heleaflm @emotionalecho @witchcraftandwit @azxulaa @small-and-violent @corpsebridenightamare
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“I don’t think I can come in today. I’m sick." You spoke to Emily over the phone, even feigning a cough, as you were just hoping she’d fall for it. It was only a few days after the wedding, the whole water in the face incident creeping up to embarrass you. 
“You can’t avoid them forever, you know. Now come to the office. All you need to do is work and then go home. No need to talk to JJ or Spencer.” The unit chief spoke over the phone, her tone making you just feel the disapproving look on her face. 
“Fine..” You huffed a bit while pushing yourself up from your couch, already dressed for the day, anyway. “I’ll be there soon.�� With a defeated sigh, you were hanging up the phone and pocketing the device. It would be a good day, right? All you had to do was get through it.
The drive to the office was horrible, feeling nauseous with each mile you drove. Most people would assume that after your small outburst at the wedding, you’d feel better. That was far from the case. The action just made you feel worse, knowing that Spencer nor JJ attempted to follow you out, to explain themselves. There was radio silence from both of them.
You probably should’ve expected that. 
As you arrived at the dreaded building and parked in the parking garage, it wasn’t long until you were on the elevator and on your way up to the floor you needed to get to. The more you stood there, the sicker you felt. Facing two people who you are forced to work with is going to do nothing but hurt you even further. You could quit, although then you’d be homeless. Putting in a transfer was a good option, even if you’d miss your other teammates. 
The sound of the elevator’s ding was tearing you from your thoughts, your steps deliberately smaller and slower just to take the last few seconds to prepare yourself. The minute your hand was on the glass doors of the bullpen, you knew there was no more hiding. 
Much to your surprise, the team was too busy at their desks to even look up. Thank god. You quietly approached your desk, your purse being placed underneath, as you took your seat. That got everyone’s attention.
“Hey.” Luke spoke first, a smile on his face. “You’re later than you usually are, was worried we’d have to come get you.” He joked, causing Tara to laugh softly from her desk.
“We would’ve been there too. It isn’t a good workday when you’re not here.”
At least you knew the rest of the team considered you as a friend. No way they’d ever do the things JJ and Spencer did to you. Just thinking of them had a frown on your face, your eyes on a file that you’d opened previously. 
“Well, I couldn’t leave my favorite people hanging, could I?” You finally broke the silence while offering a forced smile. The idea of a transfer just made you feel horrible now. You were stuck here, no escape in sight.
While you were working on a case file you’d neglected, it wasn’t long before the door was opening again. This time, there was laughter and lighthearted discussion from two very distinct voices that you recognized. God damn it.
It was best to keep your eyes down, even though you could feel every person’s eyes burning into your skin, just waiting for a reaction. You felt like a circus act, expected to perform based on one interaction you had a few days ago.
The three of you didn’t even have to look each other in the eyes in order to make the whole room thick with tension that the strongest knife couldn’t even cut. “Can we be adults? I really don’t wanna discuss what happened.” JJ spoke up, knowing the attention was on all three of you. 
The audacity of her wanting to move on was what made you finally turn around, your ears heating from the anger that was still deep inside you. “Are you kidding me? You wanna be an adult and not get questions?” You asked, unable to help the laugh that fell from your lips. “Here’s a question that I know you want to be asked; How’s Will doing? Judging by how you wasted his time for.. Eleven years? Better yet, how are Michael and Henry? I think that someone needs to look out for them.” Venom seeped deep into every syllable.
She had a family. A husband who loved her, children who adored her and needed her. Yet here she was, with a man who she hadn’t even shown any interest in. The whole situation made you sick to even think about.
“That’s not fair.” The blonde spoke up, visibly hurt by the topic being brought up. The absolute fucking nerve. 
“You’re right. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to Will and the boys at all. I guess you didn’t stop to think about them, did you?”
“Enough!” Emily snapped from the doorway of her office, arms crossed over her chest. “This is ridiculous. The last thing any of us need is you two bickering all the time. I suggest you solve this and let it go. I will not deal with the bullshit. I’m sorry.” 
The frustration of your unit chief made you take a breath, putting your hands up. “I can’t pretend like this is right and I will not endorse this fraud of a relationship. If you choose to fire me, that’s fine.” Your built up anger and hurt made you push in your chair, your purse on your arm as you were storming out of the bullpen.
Penelope was the one that caught you in the hallway as you were making your escape. “Wait!” She screamed, quickly following behind you and grabbing your arm before you could make it to the elevator. “Come hang out with me for a little bit. Don’t make any rash decisions.” 
You didn’t answer, instead just letting the tech analyst pull you behind her into the safety of the batcave. As soon as that heavy door was closed and you realized you were with one of your best friends, it was like the dam holding in all your tears had been burst open as a hot stream of tears was running down your cheeks.
“Oh, honey..” Penelope frowned softly as she was letting her arms wrap around your body, giving you a tight squeeze as she was rubbing your back. “It’s okay, you can sit in here as long as you want. We will just tell Emily that you need some Garcia time.” Everyone could benefit from such time. 
You were forced into one of the chairs while the bubbly blonde grabbed one of her many phones to inform Emily on what was going on. “Just so you know, I don’t think you’re wrong for feeling the way you do. I would be just as upset.” She assured, the woman now sitting down beside you while gently holding your hand. “I just think that you should maybe calm down a bit. We don’t need any physical fights.” 
“I can’t help it, Pen. Why? Why would JJ encourage me to tell Spencer how I feel about him and then jump on him at the next opportunity. She has a family.” You knew that she wouldn’t have a concrete answer for you but you had to admit, it was nice just ranting to her about it. “It also hurts knowing that Spencer just.. Stopped talking to me. It made me feel like I was a placeholder for her. Like he was just entertaining himself until what he truly wanted came around..” 
There was a soft silence between you both, though it was soon being broken whenever there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” Penelope called to the mystery guest, although the both of you were in a stunned silence whenever Spencer Reid was poking his head through the door. 
“I come in peace, just let me talk.” 
“Too little, too late. I don’t wanna hear it.” You spoke, standing your ground.
Instead of taking the hint, the man just entered the room before closing the door behind him. “I understand that you’re mad at me, pissed at me even. I can handle it. That being said, I don’t want trouble. I came to personally apologize. I was a shitty friend to you these past few days with not reaching out.” 
“You are a shitty friend, Spencer. You know, I thought you were supposed to be by my side. I don’t expect you to be madly in love with me but what kind of friend ignores someone for days? What kind of friend makes their friend feel unimportant and makes them question their self worth?” You asked, keeping your composure as you were going to put everything on the table.
“I think you’re a horrible friend. Not just to me but to Will. I think you’re a horrible person who broke up a family. JJ may have left Will but you didn’t even stop and try to make her consider her husband. You were selfish.”
It seemed like a sobering realization, judging by the way Spencer’s eyes widened and his body went stiff. He needed to hear that, even if he wasn’t planning on changing things. “I- Wow. I don’t know what to say,” He let out an awkward chuckle as his hand rubbed the back of his neck. 
“I’m sure you don’t. Doesn’t sound like a good situation whenever someone says it out loud, does it?” You asked, voice cracking toward the end of the sentence as you were clearing your throat. “I just want you to know that I have no interest in talking to you outside of work. I think it’s best for you just to stay away.” A necessary boundary that killed you inside, however it needed to be put into place. 
“You don’t mean that. I don’t wanna lose you permanently like that. Please, just take some time to consider.”
“You lost me the moment that you chose to devote every ounce of your time to someone who didn’t ever say that she wanted to be with you until the night you were in a hostage situation together.” 
“We weren’t even dating, listen to yourself. We had sex, what, a few times? I hardly find that as something serious, especially whenever you never even seemed like you objected to the thought of something casual.” 
“Spencer Reid!” Penelope’s horrified voice was what solidified that you weren’t crazy, that he was in the wrong just as much as you could be.
You wanted to scream, punch him, cry, and just lose it. This wasn’t the place for such outbursts but you knew that the minute you got out of everyone’s line of sight, you were going to shatter. 
Your nights spent with Spencer were something you cherished. The way he’d touch you, the way he’d hold you.. It just felt like there was something real there, the potential for a love story that you could read about in novels, see in movies, even hear in songs. Instead, you were casted off as a casual plaything. There was no care behind the long nights spent tangled in one another’s embrace. 
“You know,” There was a laugh erupting, your arms over your chest. “JJ is gonna get bored of you. If she can leave her husband, she will leave you too. I think the day she does that is the day that you will feel the same way that I do. And you know what? I hope it fucking hurts. I hope she keeps you up at night wondering why you weren’t good enough.” 
With that, you were done. Emily would most definitely be calling you in her office for a meeting in the morning, so you just grabbed your bag and walked to the elevator.
You said what you needed to say and you thought it would make you feel relieved, instead, there was more hurt than you could’ve possibly fathomed. 
How stupid you were to think that he actually saw something in you.
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amhrosina · 10 months
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Be My Baby
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Summary: Frank takes you on a weekend trip to his cabin after you have a rough week at work. Your first stop? The enormous bathtub with enough room for soooo many activities.
Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.8k
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a/n: hello! i'm back! my personal life is still a wreck but i missed writing for frank. this is probably the most self indulgent fic i've ever written lol it is quite literally the most ooey-gooey romantic plot before the softest smut imaginable. what can i say? i'm a hoe for soft frank. enjoy & thank you to the nonnie that requested something similar to this!
warnings: softest smut imaginable, fluff to the max, 'i'm an asshole to everyone except you' trope, a teensy little bit of crybaby reader if you squint, frank would burn the world for reader, reader is sOoOoO in love with frank (who isn't??), they're both a little wrapped up in each other's world and don't give a shit about what's happening outside of them type of vibes, pet names, etc.
From what you had seen, Frank’s cabin was cozy and warm, but since your arrival half an hour ago, you’d only had the luxury of soaking in the tub while Frank took care of unloading the car. He’d insisted on doing it alone, claiming his girl shouldn’t have to lift a finger for anything, and honestly after the week you’d had, you were temporarily glad he was as stubborn as a mule. You were sure that sentiment would fade the next time you were feeling bratty, but for now, you tried your best to relax and forget what an awful week it had been at work.
The heat of the bath water sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine, enticing a low groan from your lips. Sinking further into the water, you realized just how big the tub was. It stretched at least six feet across and was almost deep enough to stand, clearly a custom made feature of the cabin. You supposed Frank probably needs the room, being as large a man as he is. Still, it felt like you were in a luxurious hot tub, rather than a regular bathtub.
“There’s a button to turn on the jets if you want ‘em.”
Frank’s gentle voice carried across the bathroom, startling you from your relaxed state. You hadn’t even heard him come in. You turned, eyeing his powerful figure as he made his way toward you and sat on the edge of the tub. It was easy to get lost in the way he moved, and you tried your best to not stare at the muscles straining against the black longsleeve he was wearing.
“You okay?” He asked, reaching out to softly run his knuckles along the curve of your damp cheek. He was always gentle with you, but the desire to take care of you was even more present in his eyes than usual. It really had been a shitty week.
“This place is amazing.” You said in awe, turning your face away to hide your grin. His hand, already knowing what you were trying to do, softly gripped your jaw and turned it back to face him.
“You barely saw the place.” He chuckled.
“Whose fault is that?” You raised an eyebrow at him and sat up, fully exposing your bare chest to him. His eyes briefly flicked down to your nipples, hardening as the cool air touched them, before returning his gaze upwards. “Get in. There’s plenty of room for both of us.”
He nodded and stood, but began walking in the opposite direction of the bath. You furrowed your brow, watching him tug his shirt off and throw it on the counter. When he saw your expression, he grinned.
“Hang on. I brought something for you.”
“What do you mean?” You called after him, but he was already moving again.
He disappeared through the doorway, generating even more confusion, before returning with an assembly of things tucked under his arms. You watched as he worked his way around the room, placing various objects here and there until finally he flicked off the lights and turned to face you again.
The room was now aglow with flickering candle light, coating Frank’s looming figure in a warm haze. He’d gone for mostly unscented, knowing how strong smells could give you headaches, but had left in a few lavender candles because he knew how much it relaxed you. He also managed to sneak an entire bottle of champagne into the car without you noticing, of which he was pouring into two flutes. You blinked back tears as he handed you your glass, unable to express how warm your chest felt at the effort he was putting in to make you feel better.
“Frank.” You murmured, smiling bashfully, “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 
“‘s what you deserve.” He shrugged, stepping out of the rest of his clothes. 
He sank into the tub next to you, tugging your body against his in a swift motion. He sat with his back against the edge, allowing you to easily settle your knees on either side of his thighs, facing him in the dim room. You sat just a little taller than him at this angle - chest pressed against his warm skin, arms resting on his broad shoulders - and God, he looked divine. The drive had taken a few hours, just long enough for the stubble to return to his cheeks after this morning’s shave, giving him a rugged look that you thought was just so handsome. You were unable to resist the temptation of running your nails over it in a soft scratch, eliciting a groan from deep in Frank’s chest. The rumble reverberated through your chest as you pressed yourself fully against him, seeking more of his affection. He tugged your head down onto his shoulder and began running his fingers along the base of your neck in a soothing pattern.
“You never answered my question earlier.” He murmured, resting his jaw against your head. “You okay, sweet girl?”
You sighed, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment as you mulled over your feelings. You were a sensitive soul to begin with, and your boss had been on edge all morning when he finally snapped at you for something you had no control over, which ultimately had you tearing up for the rest of the day. When you’d walked through the door crying, Frank’s eyes flashed violently between anger at your boss and sympathy for you. The sympathy had won, and now you were in a beautiful cabin in upstate New York, wrapped in his strong arms. Still, you weren’t sure how you were going to deal with your boss’ temper when you returned to work on Monday.
“I don’t know,” you finally replied, shrugging, “Can you ask me again later?”
You felt his cheeks widen into a small grin. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Don’t think I won’t.” He teased, calling you on your avoidant tendencies before you could even notice them yourself.
“How long have you had this place?” You wondered, nuzzling into his heated skin.
“I bought it a few months after Maria and the kids.” He said softly, almost whispering when he had to relay his wife’s name aloud. “Thought maybe I was done with the city. Change can be good, ya’ know?”
“But you came back.” You lifted your head from his shoulder so you could look him in the eyes. 
“But I came back.” He parroted, nodding. “And then I met you.”
“And you stayed.” You finished for him.
“Of course I stayed. Couldn’t leave you behind, sweet girl. ‘ve been sweet on you since the day I met you.”
This was true. From the moment you’d met, he’d been nothing but gentle and kind toward you. You had no idea, of course, that this type of behavior was incredibly far away from Frank Castle’s usual attitude until you’d met Matt Murdock, who was so shocked at Frank’s subdued personality and general softness around you that Frank had to physically close Matt’s gaping jaw for him.
“But you never sold the place?” You questioned.
“I figured we might need somewhere to run away to every once in a while. Are you mad that I didn’t tell you about it before today? I wanted it to be a surprise.”
For a moment, he looked genuinely worried that he might’ve upset you.
“How could I be mad when I’m sitting in this enormous tub, surrounded by candles and champagne, pressed up against the man of my dreams?”
He smiled then, and you could tell it was a genuine smile because of the way his cheeks dimpled at the corner of his laugh lines. It was an award winning smile, you thought. You gently set the empty champagne glasses on the edge of the tub before cupping his cheeks in your hands.
“My Frankie,” you mumbled, running your thumbs across his cheekbones, “What would I do without you?”
You really hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but every time you looked at him, you felt yourself being pulled closer and closer to him. His compassion and kindness toward you, even after everything he’d been through, was something you couldn’t avoid leaning into. All your life you’d been taking care of others, and finally, here was someone begging to take care of you.
“You don’t have to worry about that, okay? ’m here to stay.” He mumbled, bringing the pads of your fingertips to his lips for individual, soft kisses. “I love you, and ‘m gonna take care of you forever.”
Tears welled in your eyes as an overwhelming rush of emotion passed over you. In your arms was a man that should’ve been bitter and angry at the world around him. He had earned the right to become spiteful and hardened, and no one could fault him for that. And yet - and yet - in your arms was a man that loved you with his entire being. Who understood you at your core, saw the dark parts of you, and loved those parts even more. Who was soft for no one but you. Who you loved, too.
A tear slid down your cheek as you kissed him, long and slow and sensual because you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He smiled into the kiss, cradling your head with his beautiful, calloused hands. It wasn’t enough. You needed his gentle touch everywhere. Pressing yourself against him, you felt yourself sliding along his achingly hard cock, raising the already warm temperature in the room to searing. Heat pulsed between your legs, begging to be touched.
“My pretty girl,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing the corner of your mouth before following the curve of your jawline to your neck, “My pretty, sensitive girl.”
The praise made your head swim. You rocked your hips again, sliding along his length until you were hovering directly over him, waiting for the go ahead to sink down. He grunted, pressing open mouthed kisses up your throat before coaxing your hips lower and lower. You gasped when he finally pushed into you, and Frank took the opportunity to lick the inside of your gaping mouth as he did so. You shuttered against him, wanting everything he had to offer and more.
“P-please, Frankie.” You murmured, arching your back as he bucked his hips upwards.
“Please what, sweetheart?” He breathed, wrapping one of his enormous hands around the back of your head, forcing you to look down at him as you rode him. His other arm was wrapped around your torso, tugging your hips forward and back to stimulate your clit against the base of his cock. It was such an erotic way to be held that you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. He leaned his head against your forehead and kissed the tears that made their way down your flushed skin. “Tell me, sweet girl.”
“I l-love you.” You purred, stuttering as he made his way down your body, kissing everywhere he could reach. When he got to your pebbled nipples, you sucked in a sharp breath. He knew exactly how to get you off, and he was staring right at them.
“I love you too, pretty girl.” He grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to each of your nipples, eliciting a pornographic moan from deep in your chest. 
He continued to push and pull your hips in a steady rhythm, grinding your clit against his pelvis as you bounced up and down his length. Slowly, in a teasing manner that had a new wave of fresh, needy tears streaming down your cheeks, he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the sensitive nub. You whined with impatience as he pulled away, only to offer the same kitten lick to your other breast. You knew he would take care of you like he always did, but his teasing was making your entire body tremble with anticipation. 
“I know, I know,” he cooed, kissing the valley between your breasts, “‘t’s okay, baby. Be patient. I’ll take care of you.”
You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a mewl. You felt the hand Frank had been using to hold your head steady loosen its grip, and suddenly, he was softly wiping the tears away from under your eyes with his thumbs.
“You’re doing so good for me, bunny.” He murmured, and you very nearly came at the pet name he loved to praise you with. “‘m gonna make you feel real good, okay?”
“Please,” you begged, digging your fingers into his shoulders, “Need you.”
That was all it took for Frank to finally snap. In one swift motion, he wrapped his lips around your breast and began to run his tongue across your sensitive nipple. His hand traveled from cradling your cheek to rubbing small, sloppy circles around your pulsing clit. You keened, overcome with so much pleasure that you felt your entire body trembling against Frank’s.
The bathroom was big enough for your soft moans to echo, and other than the sloshing of the bath water, that was the sound Frank heard as you came apart on top of him. Your head was spinning as the heat in your gut finally found its release, uncoiling in waves of overwhelming pleasure that sent you reeling. 
“That’s it,” he breathed, “Just like that, pretty girl. You’re so good for me, baby.”
His fingers hadn’t stopped circling your clit. You were quickly growing overstimulated and conflicted, wanting nothing more than to keep riding him while also needing to get away from his dexterous and sinful fingers. He watched you for a moment, in awe - the way your lips parted every time a moan slipped out of your mouth, the heaving of your chest as your heart rate tried and failed to return to normal, the intense trembling of your limbs every time he circled your clit. He wasn’t worthy. He knew that. He didn’t care. He’d take care of you for as long as you’d let him, and he’d enjoy every second of it.
“F-Frankie,” you stuttered in between heaving breaths, “I can’t- I’m- It’s sensitive.”
“Shh, sh, sh, sh, I know, baby. I know,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and up your neck, “Can you give me one more, bunny? Be good and give me one more.”
You shuttered against him, resting your forehead against his and breathing out a sultry whine. He continued his onslaught of kisses along your jawline, following the upward curve of your chin until his lips were on yours again. His agile tongue swept into your mouth mid-moan, sending heat into your already molten core.
“Wanna feel you come around me again, baby.” He groaned and tightened his hold around your torso, sweeping his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing your mouth in his again. 
He had brought you to the brink again already. You squeezed around him, earning a rare groan from Frank. The usually stoic and quiet man let out another sinful moan when you arched your back and squeezed again. He was as close as you were to the edge, and God, the tension was palpable. 
Finally, in a moment of pure bliss, he nipped at your bottom lip and let out a soft, barely there whimper, which sent you careening off the edge and into oblivion. You could feel yourself clenching around him as you came, but your head had been sent straight to a euphoric haze. Your heart thundered in your chest as Frank wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight against his chest, coming inside your sensitive, throbbing pussy. 
You’d both worked yourselves into a haze, high off each other’s touch. The comedown was gentle and warm - soft caresses of each other’s skin, chaste kisses pressed to collarbones and fingertips, thundering heartbeats slowing in unison. The bath water was surprisingly still warm, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into Frank’s chest with languorous, droopy eyes.
“You okay?” He asked, running his fingers up the length of your spine.
You nodded into his chest, sighing. “I’m perfect.”
“‘m glad.” He responded, kissing your forehead lightly. “‘m sorry you had such a rough week.”
“I’m not.” You giggled, glancing around at the luxurious bathtub you were in. “This place is like a dream.”
He held you tighter against him, resting his chin on your head before responding. 
“You don’t know the half of it, pretty girl.”
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