#;; I hope your day has been amazing and that you are doing well

[aritsukemo]

There goes my baaaabyyyy | Multiple Characters

Characters: Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, and Sae Itoshi

Summary: After seeing an abundance of tiktoks about the Usher trend, you decide to try it out on your unsuspecting boyfriend after a while of not seeing him

Warnings: This is the author's attempt at being funny so crack ahead. I apologize in advance.

A/N: Idk what came over me today, but I decided to waste my time writing this anyways after getting inspired by this amazing slideshow on tiktok talking about how each Haikyuu character would react to you doing the Usher trend. This is also my first time writing for Sae ( and I also know virtually nothing about him as I've only seen season 1 of Blue Lock ) so I'm sorry if he's ooc. I just realllyyy wanted to add him as I've been thirsting over edits of him ( and Reo ) for the past day or so.

A sigh of relief escapes through the chapped lips of the soon-to-be world cup competitor Isagi Yoichi. After hard fought battles during the preliminaries and all the stress and trials that come with it, it was finally the time for Isagi to return to his safe haven. He was hesitant for a time as he was still riding the adrenaline rush and wanted to stay back and train with some of the others, but since Bachira was returning to Japan to visit his mom and celebrate with her, it reminded him that he also had someone to return home to; you.

And so, after the longest thirteen hour flight of his life, he was now walking, suitcase in hand, alongside his best friend as the two of them exited the baggage claim and was nearing the lounge where you were allegedly waiting for him.

It had been so long since he's seen you, touched you—held you.. He finds himself wondering, how much has changed? Has your laugh changed at all? Have you switched up your sense of style? Maybe your hair? Do you still taste like the honeyed, buttered pancakes you used to make him every morning? Is your smile still so wide that it creases your cheeks and makes them pudge out more? Do your eyes still gaze at him as if he was made out of gold like they used to?

As he dwells on his thoughts, the yearning for you seeps in more and more like oil filling up a tank. It's heavy and it's only when he's just about to succumb to the weight of it all that he realizes just how much he's truly missed you.

And it seems that he wasn't alone in this feeling.

As he stepped into the lounge, he's met with his first and only warning. A warning that came in the familiar tune of the audio of a certain tiktok you had sent him a week prior before you came sliding his way on your knees. Your voice raised to match the exact pitch of the audio as you sung the infamous lyrics until you came to an abrupt halt when you collided with his stomach, nearly knocking him over with the force you hit him with.

And the only thing he could fathom to do was to stare like a deer in headlights and say, "Uh...what in the world?!"

Bachira couldn't possibly hope to contain his laughter any longer after that.

After seconds of Bachira's wheezing and airless chuckles, it was only when he was beginning to grip his stomach from the pain of his amusement that Isagi finally realized what just happened. And when he did, his entire face flushed a cherry red.

"What- Why are you doing this right now of all time?" He asked, semi-shouting as he grabbed the upper part of your arms—which were wrapped around his waist.

"I missed you, baby~!" You said in a sing-songy voice. And, as you looked up at him with your eyes shining with the familiar gleam he knew just as that same trophy-awarding smile stretched across your face, he found himself faltering for a moment. His shoulders slumping as he began mumbling shyly..

"I- I.. I missed you too.. But please, get up! People are starting to give us weird looks.."

Three months. That's how long it's been since you've last seen him.

Well, that's technically not true. If you wanted to be less dramatic, you could admit that you saw your boyfriend just last week on tv doing his signature dribbling moves and if you wanted to really be frank, you had seen his gorgeous face up close just the other day when he facetimed you and informed you that he'll be home that following afternoon. You could also make it sound much less extreme by simply confessing that you had regularly spoke to Bachira throughout these three months via text and that he'd facetime you at least one a week.

But you didn't want to count any of that.

I mean, sure you got to see him, but you didn't really get to see him. You weren't able to kiss his cheek whenever they perked up and flushed pink. You couldn't run your fingers through his layered hair and watch the satisfying transition of his brown strands turn yellow between your fingertips. You weren't able to hold his chin and watch in awe and fondness as he laughed toothily like a baby kitten..

You haven't seen him, not in all his glory which, to you, was like not seeing him at all. That said, three months of that torture was unbearable.

But all of that pain was forgotten in a matter of seconds at the odd sound of drums playing in the distance.

You didn't have any time to react to—or rather, process—what was happening or prepare yourself before Bachira got a running start towards you and soon dropped to his knees, sliding the rest of the way up to you with the biggest smile on his face—all while Usher's voice boomed behind him from his back pocket.

You had no choice but to accept fate and allow the love of your life to crash into you and completely knock you to the ground.

As the biting cold of the airport's tiles crept up your skin and all the air was just about knocked from your lungs from unexpectedly hitting the flat surface, Bachira stared down at you from above, cheeks dusted pink which made him look like an excited little kid.

"Hey, babe! It's been so long!" He chirped before coming down to press all his weight onto you as he caged your torso with his arms, his face immediately nearing yours to press a big, wet kiss to your cheek.

If it had been any other situation that he had done this in, you'd probably be annoyed from the embarrassment of having basically half the airport staring at the two of you like you were a bunch of buffoons or, at the very least, the fact that his team was laughing up a storm in the background...but having been as starved of him as you were, all you could do was laugh while relishing in the feeling of his warmth consuming every part of your body as he leaned down again to plant a feverish kiss to your lips.

Feet tapped against the small tile floors of the elevator, thumping against the marble in a rhythm that embodied the very dread of its owner.

After months of dreading this day, Sae had, once again, stepped foot in Japan; a notion he refused to even utter aloud from just how much he despised it.

For a man with such negative opinions about his homeland, his reasons for coming back were quite frivolous in comparison. Though if asked, he lie and say that his passport expired—which wasn't wrong—but deep down he knew the real reason for his return; his partner who he was too prideful to call the love of his life.

It had took some time, and for a while, Sae was forced to come back here every other year or so in secret to visit them per their request, but at last, they had decided that so much time waiting for his semi-yearly visits were too much for their poor heart and that they were ready to take the next step and leave with him to Spain.

Sae had pushed the thought to the very back of his mind, but he was more than glad—overjoyed, even—when you told him of your decision over the phone as he himself was starting to grow restless without you by his side at times.

He had already went through the process of renewing his passport so all that was left was to pick you up and drive to the airport—well, get driven to the airport—where he could finally leave this horrendous country, this time with you snuggled up by his side.

But he should've known that you wouldn't have let things be so simple.

As the doors to the elevator opened and allowed him to, at last, step foot into your lavish home, the symphony of his demise began to rang throughout it and bounce of the walls. Sae paused, face contorting into one of visible perplexment before his eyes widened at the sight of you sliding on your knees towards him, mouth opened as you sang to the beat of the music blasting throughout your home.

Your performance was short, glorious, and came to an end when your face was buried into the smooth fabric of your boyfriend's clothing and you smoothly wrapped your arms around your boyfriend's waist.

And it was only a full minute after such an amazing performance that it finally dawned on him what you were doing. And to that, he simply sighs disappointedly.

"I've changed my mind. You're not going anywhere with me," He said, and despite the blunt tone he douses his words in, it does little to your dazzling smile as you knew full well his words held little weight to them. You find yourself playing into your own bullshit anyways, though, as you begun to whine out in a high pitch you just knew he couldn't stand.

"Aww, but why? All I did was greet my pookie--" "Finish that sentence and I will actually leave you in Japan for another ten years."

You promptly shut your mouth after that, much to Sae's relief.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[bxnfire]

Silver Tongue || Satoru Gojo

✎ synopsis: after losing a bet to geto, gojo has to go get a piercing of geto’s choice, but this was far from a punishment; you were his piercer, and one thing sure leads to another when dealing with someone with a silver tongue like gojo

✎ content/warnings: piercer!reader x gojo, smut, fluff, oral (f. receiving), semi-public, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, masturabation, needles (?), pet names, dirty talk, mutual pining, flirting

✎ a/n: bra i saw this random mf on tiktok with a tongue piercing and decided my beautiful man should have one as well. enjoy <3!

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Geto and Gojo have been friends for a really long time. Their dynamic is a chaotic one, but it works for them just fine. It is not uncommon for the 2 to go out a lot, but what is uncommon is Gojo losing bets. Gojo was cocky, yeah, but he had a reason to be; he was the kind of guy to be good at what he tried his hand at no matter what, often leaving Geto amused by trying to figure out what it was he couldn’t do.

Turns out, Gojo’s biggest enemy was his very own ego. After a long day of doing random physical activities, Geto challenged Gojo to a simple race. Of course, Gojo was fatigued but he let his ego take the best of him, and thus accepted Geto’s challenge.

“But,�� Geto added, “if I win, you��re getting a piercing. Of my choice.”

“So then if I win, you’re getting my initials tattooed on your arm,” Gojo said cheekily, trying to think of the stupidest font to request at the tattoo shop.

“You’re so on,” Geto replied. And with that, they had a race. But much to Gojo’s dismay and Geto’s amusement (or rather, amazement?), the former lost.

That is how the pair found themselves at 1 a.m. at the door of the tattoo shop you worked at. You were a great tattoo artist and piercer, but since you were still in college you were often given later shifts, which allowed you to meet interesting characters, this duo being one of them.

You were sitting at the counter working on some new designs when you heard the door open, and once you looked up you made eye contact with the deepest cerulean eyes you had ever seen. Unaware that you were starring, you got startled once the man next to him spoke to you.

“Hey there Y/n, nice to meet ya,” said the black-haired male, looking at your name tag, startling partly because you were in a trance watching the white-haired guy next to him, and partly because his voice was oddly… sultry.

“Hi, whatcha thinking of getting today?” You ask him, eyeing his piercings.

“Well the thing is we’re not here for me today, though I may come back; we’re here for him,” he smiled, gesturing towards the guy that had you in a trance.

“Yeah…. I’m getting a piercing today,” he said, looking deep into your eyes.

You swallow before replying. “So then, what piercing would you like?”

“What’s popular with girls these days?” He says smirking.

The black-haired guy laughs, slapping him in the back. “You’re so dumb,” he manages to get out between laughs.

“Well,” you paused, genuinely trying to answer his question, “I’ve seen a lot of girls go crazy for some eyebrow and nose piercings. You could also get traditional earrings of course, they’re always good starter piercing.”

“I don’t know if I want it to be so apparent though… but I like the eyebrow piercing suggesting,” he responds, deep in thought.

“Not too quick Satoru, remember our bet: I get to choose your piercing,” he cuts quick, looking at Satoru.

“Oh… Bring it on then, I could rock anything,” he laughed, his pride shining through.

“You’re so damn cocky, I’d like to shut you up… actually, yes, I’ll shut you up,” he then turns to you, “he’ll be getting a tongue piercing tonight,” he says, decidedly.

“I hope you’re not a foodie then,” you say amused, catching on the dynamic between the two.

“Suguru,” he cries, “you KNOW this won’t end well.”

“Well that’s part of the point isn’t it?” He smiles softly, his angelic tone just making it funnier.

“Well, I’ll start setting up my station,” you say, looking through a couple of drawers until you find tongue jewelry. “While I set up, pick one of these, I recommend the first 3 at the top, they’re nicer while you’re healing.”

As soon as you leave, Satoru starts looking through the selection of piercings. Pills, dice, even a marijuana leaf, and he giggles, but in the end, he does take up on your recommendation and chooses a simple, silver stud.

“I can’t wait to hear you speak after this,” Geto says.

“Oh shut up,” he replies.

“Ready! Please come over here,” you shout from your station, putting your gloves on.

“Coming!” Said Satoru, and as he started walking Geto followed.

As he sits down on the chair, he shows you the piercing he chose.

“I see you took on my recommendation,” you say looking at him and smiling, and Satoru felt his heart flutter.

“Y-Yeah, I did,” he replied, trying to hide how flustered he was.

“You nervous?” You ask, catching on to his stutters.

“You could say that,” he laughs, happy he could cover it up so easily.

And sure, maybe to you he could, but not to Geto. He quickly caught on the fact that Gojo was flustered because of you. Having known the guy for years, he knew how he reacted to injuries, danger, and even needles, and he never gets flustered, no. He’s also seen him around girls he finds attractive, and while Satoru is able to talk to them, he does get flustered at first. How adorable.

“Yeah, he’s scared alright,” Geto says, teasing Satoru.

“Don’t worry! Tongue piercings aren’t typically the most hurtful ones. Of course, it varies from person to person, but having pierced and heard from several people about them, they’re not terrible,” you say reassuringly.

What an angel, Satoru thinks. Though he’d never admit it to Suguru, he was starting to be glad he got him in this predicament. You were so cute, so sweet trying to make him feel better, and he couldn’t help but notice the piercings and tattoos that adorned your beautiful body. He wondered if there were other masterpieces hidden under your clothes.

Trying not to pry on it too much, he watched you get a marker and come close to him, so close he could smell your sweet scent. Shit, maybe looking at you could be my anesthesia, he thought.

“Alright then! Please take out your tongue, I need to mark the spot where I’ll pierce,” you say.

“Well then,” he says, taking his tongue out. Getting a funny feeling as you mark his skin, he tries not to giggle in fear it’d mess up your work.

You pull away and then put a mirror so he can look at his face. “Do you like how it looks there? Or would you want it someplace else?”

“That looks perfect, let’s do it,” he says.

“Great! Then sit while I get my stuff,” you say.

“What’s your name again?” You ask.

“You can call me Gojo,” he replies.

“Ok Gojo, Take a deep breath in,” you say, and as he does so, you put the needle through his tongue, “then breathe out,” once again, he obediently breathes out, relieved in the little pain he actually felt. This is when you actually put the jewelry in.

“Now I’m just securing the stud. And there ya go, take a look,” you say, bringing the mirror back.

“Wow,” he says, surprised at how much he actually liked the piercing.

“There’s some fun piercings you can put in once it heals, but make sure you’re taking care of it correctly,” you say, and then begin to explain the care process for the piercing.

As you 3 move back out to the checkout counter, you recommend some products to Gojo for whatever he may need. You also say he’s welcome to come back if he feels uncomfortable in any way.

“Or if you’re a busy man, here’s my phone number,” you say boldly, hoping it’s not obvious how attracted you were to him, “let me know if you have any questions as it heals!”

“Thank you Y/n, I’ll let you know if anything happens,” he smiles as he takes the paper with your number, automatically taking out his phone and putting the contact in.

“Alright then, ready to survive off ice cream for a while?” Geto asks.

“Sounds like a sweet deal,” Gojo replies smiling.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say as they walk out.

“The pleasure was mine sweetheart,” Gojo replies, finding the courage from his new piercing, and luckily for you he turns around, because you’re left as red as a tomato.

As him and Geto walk out, you wonder whether he’ll text you with more than just questions about the piercing. Sheepishly, you go back to your station and clean it up, relishing on the faint smell of Gojo’s cologne that stayed behind.

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While you’re sitting on the train on the home, you get a text from an unknown number:

💬 Unknown: so what did you say helped with swelling again?

💬 Unknown: it’s gojo btw 👅

You smile. As you type up your recommendations and add him to your contacts, admittedly wanting to see him again. So then, conveniently of course, you ask for a contact picture.

💬 You: mind sending me a contact pic?

💬 Gojo 👅: [IMG]

The picture was of him taking his tongue out playfully, showing off the jewelry you had just given him. His cerulean eyes peeked through his round sunglasses, and with that you got flustered yet again, which was ridiculous: to think you had pierced nipples, tattooed in places where sunlight doesn’t quite reach, and you’re flustered over a normal selfie?

💬 Gojo 👅: you did me justice

💬 You: i think any piercing would’ve worked just fine 👀

And on the other side of the screen, it was now Gojo who was flustered at your words. Unknowingly, for the same reason as you, he asked for a contact picture. Bringing out your holder side, you take a selfie from an angle that shows many of your attributes, and Gojo isn’t immune to your charm. As he updates your contact, he can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks… and his dick.

He quickly realizes it was going to be a restless night, or rather, morning? The clock marked 3 o’clock, and whilst the world outside his room was silent, it was easy to fantasize of what it’d be like to have you there with him.

Squeezing his tip through his underwear, he thinks back to your pretty face, so focused and so close to his as you pierced his tongue. He wonders what it’d look like covered in his cum: would you lick it up? Would you clean it with your fingers? Would you make him clean it up for you?

The more he thinks of you, the hornier he gets. Taking his hardened cock out from his underwear, he starts thinking of what he’d do to you. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see your body before him right now. Is there any piercings he didn’t catch on you having? Tattoos? Would you like him to kiss those on you? Maybe even lick them? You would probably taste so sweet, yeah, as sweet as you smell or as sweet as you sound.

At this point, he’s fisting himself quickly, massaging his balls every now and then, soon to reach his release. He remembers your sweet voice saying his surname, your laugh as you watched him and Suguru’s banter, and your beautiful eyes looking at him. With that, he came all over his hand, deciding he had to see you soon.

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As the days passed, you and Gojo texted more and more. Your conversations always started with a silly question about the piercing from him, and from then on it would range from your favorite subjects to trips you have made and your favorite foods. You found yourself crushing hard on Gojo, taking little notes of the things he liked and wanted to do, and trying to gather up the courage to ask him to hangout.

Lucky for you, he had been feeling the same, except he was bolder than you, and thus, he asked first.

💬 Gojo 👅: y/nnnnn

💬 Gojo 👅: you free tonight??

💬 Gojo 👅: there’s this place i wanted to check out near your job, so maybe before you start your shift we could go?

You were ecstatic. Quickly confirming that you were down, you get dressed and head out for the door. Reaching your meet-up spot, you anxiously wait for Gojo. To calm your nerves down, you scroll through TikTok and find yourself laughing at the stupidest videos. Not noticing a tall presence behind you, Gojo decides to surprise you, crouching down to your level to whisper in your ear.

“What’s so funny, doll?” He asks, completely scaring you.

“Gojo! Dont sneak up on me like that again,” you say, relieved that it’s him and not a weirdo, and he laughs at your scared state.

“But where’s the fun in that?” He asks cheekily, and then he begins walking to the place he wanted to go.

You two chitchat nonstop on the way there. You had nurtured a sweet friendship in the little time you guys had known each other. You really appreciated how funny Gojo was, telling you things that made you wonder just how his mind worked. There truly was never a dull moment between the two of you. The more you knew him, the more into him you became. Sometimes you could feel the tension between the two of you, walking together while your hands brushed against each other, him asking you to check on his piercing often and you having to get so close to his handsome face, and other things like that which gave your stomach butterflies.

After eating at that new restaurant, you suddenly remembered that Gojo’s piercing was now fully healed, and knowing his spontaneous nature, you suggested that he get it changed, just to switch it up a bit.

“Really? What would you suggest, you’re the professional after all,” he says while smiling at you.

“Well, we could go back to the shop and I could show you a couple of cool ones, we got a new batch this week,” you replied, thinking already of which he would like.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says, and after that you two head into the store.

It wasn’t open on Mondays, but given that your manager really trusted you, you had a copy of the keys to the store. Rushing into the shop before other people noticed, you and Gojo get settled in the quiet store. As he waits there looking around the things you had on display, you look for the drawer with tongue jewelry once again, reminding you of the night you met. Smiling softly to yourself, you pull a drawer out and bring it on the counter, the noise of you setting it down catching Gojo’s attention.

He steps closer to it and starts looking through the collection you have. Giggling once he reached the marijuana one again, he asks for the one you like most.

“Well, if I’m being honest the one you have right now is one of my favorite, you can never go wrong with a traditional silver stud. Now, I remember you wanted something to impress girls yeah?” You ask jokingly, and he blushes a little at the fact that you remembered him telling you that when you met.

“In that case, then you should definitely check this one out,” you say as you point to one that looked sort of like a hammer.

“What’s special about that one? It kind of looks like the pill one you got over there,” he asks curiously.

“While this one may look like just a little “pill” to you, it is a vibrator piercing,” you say a little flustered, realizing how intimate it was after you said it out loud.

“Oh,” he says, now looking intently at you.

“Yeah, I don’t really know if you’re an eater or anything,” you joke, trying to bring up the mood, but you notice it only made the atmosphere grow thicker, so you continue, “but this one can really take things up a notch when you’re down there hehe.”

“I’d like to say my head game is strong,” he says suggestively, “but I sure would like to see how this would make things better.”

“I could change it for you if you’d like! Or I could walk you through the process so you know what to do in the future whenever you wanna change it yourself, but trust me when I say, any girl you’re with will be very lucky,” you say boldly, hoping he realizes the piercing is not what they’d be lucky about.

“I think I’ll let you do it this time doll, I wouldn’t want to mess it up,” he says, knowing he’d be too distracted thinking of what he’d like to do to you with this very piercing if you would so desire.

“Well then,” you say, growing flustered as you get near your station, feeling him come close behind. You set him down, and ask him to open his mouth, something that feels oddly intimate considering the fact that you’re alone with him, with no one walking in, and he’s opening his mouth with your face so close to his, to make matters worse, his enticing eyes looking right at you.

You get to work in changing the jewelry as you explain to him how it works. “So, to turn it on, you need to tighten up the little ball at the bottom,” you say as you demonstrate, and then he gets a funny feeling on his tongue as he feels the metal vibrate through.

“And turn it off?” He asks, trying his best not to laugh.

“For that just unscrew it a little,” you demonstrate yet again, and he feels the vibrations coming to a stop.

Feeling the tension between you two, he decides to take it up a notch and test the waters. “I’d love to try it to its full extent,” he says, knowing that the conversation would go back to a more explicit topic.

“I’m telling you, your girl will be satisfied,” you reply, trying not to pry too much on it in fear he’ll see how badly you wanted him to try it on you.

“Well, I don’t really have a girl right now,” he says, not missing the relief and happiness that comes to your face right as he says it, “but there is someone I’d like to try it on.”

“And who might that be?” You ask, almost breathless.

“Take a guess,” he says, not giving you a chance to respond as he’s bringing your face to his and kissing you right on the spot.

After the initial shock of Gojo’s actions and the fact that your very own crush is kissing you, you let your impulse take over as you put your hand on his neck and bring him closer. You lick his lower lip asking for permission to go in, something that he eagerly grants, and your tongues find a rhythm that leaves you both breathless, your cunt feeling something whenever your tongue graced his piercing.

“So, were you able to figure it out?” He asks cheekily, still blushing from the fact that you kissed back and lord, were you a good fucking kisser.

“No, I don’t think you were very clear,” you reply, the fact that you matched his energy doing things to Gojo.

You pull him in this time, but he took his initiative somewhere else. He sat you on his lap and started caressing your sides, not daring to touch your bare skin no matter how much he wanted to, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

On the other hand, it was getting harder and harder for you to play it cool in front of him. Feeling his big, veiny hands run all over you was making you ache for so much more. Not daring to say a word, you put your hands over his and guide them where you want them to be. You take one of them under your shirt all the way to your boobs, and in doing so you feel him moan into your kiss. Growing more confident at his reaction, you take the other one down to your ass, letting him squeeze to his desire.

He understands what you need want him to do and he starts gently fondling your boobs, switching back and forth between the two, as his other hand guided your movements to grind on his hardened dick.

You start moaning into his lips, and he abandons your lips to go on a trip down your face to your ears and your neck with his own. Finding a spot that seemed to have the greatest reaction out of you, he chooses to mark it for reference, just a little hickey to guide him later on, and one to let others now that you were his.

“This is your weak spot, isn’t it?” He says, relishing on the way you quiver at the feel of his breath on your skin.

“T-That’s one of ‘em,” you respond, giving in to your lust entirely, “but can ya find the o-others?” You ask, wanting to see how far he’ll go.

“Such a dirty doll,” he says, feeling his dick throb at your words, “of course I can find the others, I know you’ll guide me to them.”

Breaking away from you to take your shirt off, you shiver as you feel the cold hit your skin. Your nipples hardened and it was apparent through your bra, which made Gojo hungry for more of you. Taking it off as he plants a sweet kiss on your lips, he licks his way down until he reaches your nipples, and starts licking them and then blowing to keep them hard, something that had you grinding harder and harder on his boner.

“Can I try my piercing on you doll? Please? I need to know how you taste,” he says, drunk on your body, “I’m craving the sweetest treat of all.”

As he says that, his hands find his way to your underwear, and over them he plays with your wet pussy. Circling around your cunt as you whine for more, he takes your pants and panties off, letting him take a look at your naked body.

Admiring it like a master piece, Gojo stood what he’s doing altogether just to get a good look at you, wondering how concerning it’d be if he got this tattooed sometime. You squirm under his stare, and yet, you don’t feel the impulse to cover up or turn any of the lights off, if anything, you wanted him to look at you like you’re the last meal he’s about to eat.

And a feast is exactly what he had. Not even 2 minutes after admiring you like a goddess, he tightened the piercing and started flat-tongued to lick up and down your pussy. Moans quickly filled the room, the wet sensation of his tongue combined with the vibrations all over your pussy quickly overstimulating you. He puts his fingers in your mouth as his tongue finds its way to your clit. Lapping at it with the vibrating piece on his tongue sent shocks through you, making you buck your hips into him desperate to feel more than just his tongue on you. Retrieving the fingers you licked from your mouth, he put one finger inside of you, surprised at how easily it slipped into you.

“You’re so fucking warm and wet,” he says as he feels you on his finger, dick throbbing just thinking of how good it’d feel like once it wasn’t just his fingers inside of you.

Fingering you as he kept his tongue pressed to your clit, your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure, your moans now louder than they were before, sounding even more lewd combined with the sound of your wet pussy taking in Gojo’s fingers and his tongue slurping and keeping in contact with your clit.

With his free hand, he caressed your thigh gently, which seemed almost ironic giving how relentlessly he was pumping his fingers into you, how mercilessly he was working his tongue to please your clit.

You couldn’t take it for much longer. You felt your climax building up in your stomach, and just before you could tell him, you were splashing your juices all over his hand and face, leaving him shocked for a moment.

Quickly realizing what had just happened, he happily licks your cunt clean before cleaning his own fingers up, happily realizing that you’re even sweeter he thought you’d be.

“Don’t think I’m done with you just yet,” he says, getting up to undress quickly as he was eager to fuck you.

Coming out of your post-orgasm bliss, you notice how veiny his long, thick shaft is. Feeling your cunt clench on nothing just waiting for him to come inside of you, a curious hand reached for his dick and gave it a few stokes, filling your fingers get precum on them. Hearing his breath hitch, you quicken the pace of your strokes. This activated that dirty mouth he had on him, making you think that he’s nothing but a silver tongue the way he effectively had you right at his mercy.

“F-Fuck doll, your h-hand feels s-so good,” he moans. “Y-You h-have no idea what y-you do to me.”

You keep going like this for a little bit, until he grabs your hand and kisses it while looking right at you.

“I would love to cum off your hands alone someday,” he says, “but today is not that day, I need to be in your sweet pussy doll, can I?” He asks, placing another kiss, this time in the inside of your wrist.

“Y-Yes please Gojo,” you whine.

“Say my name doll,” he says.

“Gojo,” you respond.

He positions himself right at your entrance. Slapping his dick in your pussy, he teases both you and himself while his pride toys with you until you call him by his name.

“Wrong,” he says, now slapping a bit quicker, the lewd sound of skin slapping combinted with your moans filling the room. “It’s Satoru,” he says, trying his damned best not to moan at the pleasure.

Seeing you lost in that same agonizing pleasure, he dives right into your pussy, touching your cervix in that first stroke, earning a yelp from you. Wanting to keep his little game going, he kept talking. “C’mon doll, it’s easy, it’s S-A-T-O-R-U,” he panted, a stroke for every letter as he spelled out his name.

“S-Satoru! I-It’s so big!” You said, struggling to adjust to his length with how recklessly he pounded into you right off the bat.

“You can take it doll I know you must have a high pain tolerance,” he said, focusing a little too much on the feeling of your warm, soaked pussy, which squeezed his cock so deliciously, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

You, on the other hand, were in a whole other world. Satoru quite literally was fucking you silly, being already stimulated on your orgasm from not too long ago, his big fucking dick just had reached the spot you struggled to reach even with your toys. Blabbering some nonsense amidst of saying his name like a broken record, you feel your orgasm building up once again, something that Satoru quickly catches on to from the way your pussy was gripping his dick.

“You’re so tight doll, you’re going to milk me dry,” he says in between pants, “fuck, can I cum inside?” He asks while looking right at you, doubting how effective he’d be trying to pull out right now, and in all honesty, he was so lost on how good you felt he wanted to paint your insides, leave his mark, make you his.

“Y-Yes!” You do your best to say, finding it hard to get the words out. It doesn’t take long from here for you both to finish, Gojo making a mess of your pussy as by the time he pulls out both of your juices and his and intermixed coming out of you. He fingers you once more, this time to help you take his cum out. He then carries you bridal style to the bathroom so you can pee, in the meantime finding some paper towels to clean himself up and a little bit of the mess you left behind.

When you came back, he carries you back to where you had just fucked, and lays you on top of him to cool off together after such steamy sex you had.

“So… did you like the outcome?” You ask giggly, breaking the ice.

“Fuck, if getting piercings means I’ll get to be with you more then so be it. I’m coming every week for a new one,” he says, genuinely thinking of what he could get next.

“No need, I’d make time for you even if you didn’t get any more piercings,” you say, blushing at your little confession, immediately putting your head on the crook of his neck out of embarrassment.

He pulls you back, forcing you to look at him. You’re blushing, hair messy, and eyes slightly glossy after the intense moment you just had, and you’d never looked more beautiful in his mind. Smiling like an idiot after just looking at you, he says “you’re truly just as sweet as you taste,” and with that, you blush even harder.

“So then, will you be my girlfriend?” He asks suddenly, leaving you dumbfounded.

“I know it’s a bit of a rush and maybe not as romantic as I would’ve liked for it to be,” he admits, “but I must confess that I’ve had a thing for you since we met, and I couldn’t live with myself if you weren’t mine after today.”

You’re blushing so hard right now, but also matching his love fool smile, happy that he liked you back. “Of course, Satoru, I’ll be yours, but only if you’ll promise you’ll be mine,” you say, snuggling up to him and looking deep into those beautiful eyes.

“Oh doll, I have been yours ever since you merely looked at me,” he says, then he kisses you gently, you can feel his love through this kiss, which unlike the others you just shared, this one was filled with pure love and admiration, and much like the other kisses he had given you today, these were addicting, immediately making you ache for more.

For the rest of the night, you guys just stayed there talking to each other about anything and everything. Making silly plans for the future, confessing the way you both had been pining for each other, and just laughing at how funny this all was, how crazy it was that it took you two less to have sex than to confess to each other, but, it was just as meaningful nonetheless.

Going back to your apartment, you two settled in your bed, ready to sleep after such intense night. There, basking in his warmth, you realized just how lucky and happy you were to have your job, because after all, if it weren’t for that you wouldn’t have met Satoru, the boy of your dreams, and next to you, Satoru was thinking just that, and even if he’d never admit it to Geto, he was so grateful to have lost that bet and swallow up his pride, because now, he had something truly worth boasting about: you. Who would’ve thought a piercing would change his life? Certainly, he wouldn’t have guessed it, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[pinkslipxox]

Hey! I have a request. But please ignore this if you want to, I did see your last post saying how you have alot of requests at the moment! So please don't ever feel like you need to write this okay? Just something basic, pregnant reader is really struggling to fall asleep because baby girl won't stop kicking her mama. Billie wakes up and just rubs her belly and gives us reassurance. She even tries to make us laugh by having a "talk" with the baby telling her to stop hurting her mama or mommy's not gonna be happy. We find it hilarious. We end up falling asleep to billie spooning up and rubbing out stomach and gently rubbing the top of our head because she knows that helps us fall asleep.

- but thank you so so much for taking the time to read this. Once again, please don't write this if you don't want to! I love ya 🫶🏻

Hey there my love! Hope you like it! Thank you so much for your kindness and understanding 🥰

————————————————-——————————

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you feel your unborn daughter move about inside your womb. You’ve been trying so hard to fall asleep, but to no avail. Of course, it is always a joy and relief to you whenever you feel your baby kick, but it seems that she’s picked the worst part of the day— well, night in the case— to be active.

You carefully sit yourself up straighter, breathing slowly in and out just as your doctor had suggested a few days ago, praying that you don’t wake up your sleeping wife. Despite knowing that Billie wouldn’t mind if you woke her up, you feel bad at the thought of doing so. She’s been working so hard when it comes to balancing work and taking care of you, and you know that she needs her rest as much as you do.

“Please let Mama sleep,” you murmur softly as you run your belly in attempt to calm your daughter. Just then, you feel a hand touch your shoulder. Your wife has woken up.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Billie asks, her voice groggy yet full of concern.

“She won’t stop kicking, Billie,” you whimper, wincing as you feel another strong kick. “And it hurts. All I want to do is sleep.”

“How can I help, my love?” Billie offers as she gently rubs your swollen belly.

“Can you please get another pillow for my back?” you request and Billie nods.

“Yes, of course,” she replies and kisses your forehead before hurrying off to find the pillow. She comes back a moment later and helps you lean forward so that she can put the pillow behind your back.

“Thank you, my love,” you sigh, reveling in the small amount of relief.

“You’re welcome.” Billie rubs your baby bump, her ocean blue eyes looking into yours with such tenderness and love. “I know it’s hard, sweetheart. You’re doing such an amazing job. Soon we’ll have our little girl, and she’s going to be just as beautiful as you.”

“Oh, Billie,” you murmur, tears swelling in your eyes. “You’re the sweetest.”

“Only for my girls,” Billie chuckles softly before pressing a kiss to your belly. “Damn, she’s having a party in there!”

“Of course— she’s your daughter, after all,” you tease with a smirk and Billie sticks her tongue out playfully at you.

“Hmm, I wonder…” Billie muses with a playful gleam in her eyes. She then makes a fist with her hand and taps on the imaginary microphone in her hand. “Hello? Is this thing on? Can you hear Mommy, baby girl?”

You can’t help but stifle a laugh. Then, at the feel of your daughter kicking her again, you tell her, “She can hear you loud and clear, Bills.”

“Now, baby girl,” Billie begins in a mock-stern voice. “Listen to Mommy. I know how much you think it’s fun to kick your mama like she’s a soccer ball but she needs her rest. And if you don’t stop kicking her by the time I count to three…”

“Billie, oh my God,” you laugh out loud, shaking your head fondly at your wife.

“One… two… three,” Billie counts and the two f you hold your breath.

“I think… it worked,” you breathe in awe and Billie smirks.

“Guess we know who’s her favorite mother,” your wife teases and you gasp, feigning hurt.

“After all I do for you…” you tisk, running your belly. You then smile at Billie. “Thank you for helping, my love. And I’m sorry that I woke you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. We’re in this together,” Billie reassures you and brings your hand up to her lips, kissing it.

“Cuddle us?” you request with a pout and Billie nods with a smile.

Billie helps you lay back down on the bed and once you are comfortable, she cuddles up from behind you, your back pressed against her chest. She wraps her arm under your bump, her thumb gently caressing there, and kisses your temple. You slowly begin to relax under her touch, her fingers gently massaging your scalp just the way you like it.

“Good night, my baby girls,” Billie murmurs softly, and your heart swells.

“Good night, Billie,” you hum as you close your eyes, grateful to have your wife right by your side, no matter what time of day or night.

[cobaltperun]

Tara who has a crush on the cute barista reader??? Love your fics

5 Times You Made Coffee and 1 Time You Didn't

(Request) Tara Carpenter x GN! Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 3.1k

Tara knew she should have been more careful, she knew she should have been cautions of every stranger. First Amber and Richie, then Quinn and Ethan, and she shivered at the very thought if how many times Sidney got betrayed and targeted.

But you were so cute. With that smile, standing out from all the polite smiles of the other barista. And you made perfect coffee, so perfect she now made it her mission to bring as many people, which admittedly and given her social circle wasn't all that many, to your coffee shop when it was your shift.

This time she was here with Mindy, after a long day of classes. "Good afternoon," you smiled at Mindy and then turned toward Tara. "Tara," your already warm smile widened and she almost thought she didn't even need coffee after the burst of energy she got just from seeing you.

"Hey, Y/N," she smiled back at you, hoping her crush wasn't that obvious.

“The usual?” you asked her and she nodded, you’ve been making a cappuccino for her for weeks now and it didn’t take you long to figure out that was her coffee of choice. “And for you?” you turned to Mindy.

“Could I get an espresso?” Mindy asked and you nodded.

“Right away,” you backed away and Tara looked down, blushing at Mindy’s questioning look.

“Spill it, T,” Mindy demanded and pointed at you in the most obvious way. “You have a crush on them and it’s visible from a plane.”

She didn’t have to put it like that. “I just think they are cute,” she didn’t deny her crush. “I just have a good feeling about them, you know?” and she knew a good feeling wasn’t enough anymore, but she had to believe it would be enough this time.

Mindy opened her mouth but then changed her mind and instead just hummed. “Let’s judge their coffee making skills first, you’ll be needing someone who can get your coffee just right,” Mindy grinned and Tara was happy Mindy was the first to find out about you. She knew Chad had a bit of a crush on her, and Sam was… well, Sam, she was protective.

“It’s better than just right,” she assured her of your skills, that was the one thing she couldn’t deny no matter what. You got it just right when she first tried it, and she just asked for a pinch of cocoa powder the second time and since then the cappuccino you made her was flawless.

Before her and Mindy could even start talking you came with their coffees and Tara reached for her wallet. “It’s taken care of,” you winked at her and walked over to the other table before she could say anything. Tara watched you, speechless, as she always was when you just told her the coffee was on the house.

Somehow, she was sure it had nothing to do with your parents owning the place. You would have treated her even if you just worked there.

“You weren’t kidding, they know how to make coffee,” Mindy commented as she took a sip of her espresso.

“Mhm,” she agreed absentmindedly, still paying attention to you.

“Classes weren’t really all that bad today,” Mindy commented, prompting yet another ‘mhm’ from Tara. You were preparing a coffee with utmost care, and there was definitely a reason why Tara kept sitting at this exact spot. It was easy to sneak glances your way from her seat.

“The Babadook sucks,” Mindy said and she once more agreed before Mindy snapped her fingers right in front of Tara’s face.

“Earth to Lover Girl, can you at least pretend we’re not here so you can make googly eyes at your crush?” Mindy was stuck between being amused and annoyed.

“Fine, fine, what did you just say?” she asked but Mindy just stuck her tongue out and Tara rolled her eyes. From the corner of her eyes she caught you smiling at her as you dried a glass you just washed.

About an hour later Tara approached you with the coffee cups. “Thank you, they were amazing, as always,” she told you as you reached over the counter to take them.

“Could I interest you in trying some other coffees? Only drinking cappuccino will make it taste bland over time,” you suggested and gestured at the chair near the bar. “Might be a good way to get to know each other, assuming I’m not misinterpreting things, of course,” you looked confident, but there was a small hint of shyness in your gaze. As if you’ve been trying to ask her this for some time now.

“Sure, I’ll leave my coffee order in your hands,” she accepted a bit too eagerly and you grinned together.

~X~

The next time she came to the coffee shop she sat down close to you, alone and eager to see what you had in mind for the first coffee testing, as Tara dubbed it.

“I’m all yours, barista,” she winked at you, not entirely catching on to what she just said.

You took it like a champ though, not even flinching at the potential double meaning as you prepared her coffee and Tara would love to say she could follow what you were doing but there was a reason she was desperately reliant on a coffee machine or shops like this one. Eventually you placed a small glass in front of her.

“Ristretto, comes from Italy, basically a stronger espresso. Same amount of coffee, in half the water,” it was early in the morning and she did have a long day ahead of her.

She nodded and brought the glass closer to her.

“So, how come you are a barista? I mean, besides your parents owning the place?” Tara asked, not yet ready to drink the coffee and be on her way.

You leaned over the counter. “Coffee is a bit of a passion for me, I love making it, and trying different variations,” you replied and she could see the honesty in your eyes.

Being passionate about coffee wasn’t what she expected but somehow, given how good you were at making it, she immediately believed it.

“I’m happy you can pursue your passion,” when was the last time she could pursue her own passions without looking behind her shoulder?

“It helps that I get to meet beautiful girls, like your friend last week,” you smirked, teasing her slightly.

She tried the coffee, and it was definitely strong, but there was some sweetness to it. “And what am I?” she chose to be bold, leaning slightly closer to you as she asked that.

You moved your hand until it was right next to her and offered it to her, and she accepted, putting her hand on top of your own. “You, Tara, are more than just beautiful.”

“Real smooth, Y/N,” she snickered but she would be lying if she said the compliment didn’t feel nice.

~X~

“Something lighter this time,” the moment Tara stepped into the coffee shop you placed a coffee cup at her newfound place at the bar.

“Am I that predictable?” Tara asked, actually slightly concerned about it. If you could time making the coffee for her after only knowing her for a short period of time. Could someone intending to hurt her learn her patterns this easily?

“Every single morning at 9:27 you walk through those doors,” you shrugged and she figured she unconsciously did start doing that.

She still rolled her eyes and sat down at her seat. She looked at her coffee.

“Café au lait, French this time. Coffee with warm milk,” you explained, correcting her assumption that it was just regular white coffee.

“You’re the expert,” she smiled and tried the coffee, and the only thing that crossed her mind was that she should have gotten you to experiment with her coffee taste sooner. “I swear I only tolerated coffee, but you’ll make me love it,” she sighed, almost dreamily at the light taste.

“That’s the idea,” you grinned but unlike last time when you could stay and chat with her, this time the coffee shop was busy, and you had to do your job. You still had the time to ask her about how her day went yesterday and how she did on the exam she had.

And it made her feel like her heart would lean out of her chest.

~X~

It took some time before you offered her a new coffee. You liked surprising her with new coffees randomly and over that period of time you met both Chad and Sam, both meetings went surprisingly well.

Tara had a gut feeling she would be trying a new coffee today as she walked into the coffee shop and saw you heating up water in some thin and tall pot. “Hey, Tara,” you said without turning to look at her and she leaned over the bar to watch you work. “Come over to this side,” you invited her and she happily rushed to your side. She just now realized this was the closest the two of you were, even closer than when you would bring her coffee to the table. So, instead of turning into a tomato, she focused on what you were doing. You added ground coffee to the boiling water and soon enough it began frothing.

“Watch out!” she exclaimed out of habit, but you just grinned and lifted it up, before lowering it back onto the stove and Tara watched as the coffee began frothing again.

“Trust the process,” you told her and lifted it again just as it reached the top of the pot and then did it again one last time before pouring it into two porcelain coffee cups. “Try it without sugar at first, then add it if you need to,” you said and placed cups in front of the chair next to your own. You patted the spot next to you and Tara hopped onto the chair, happy to be sharing coffee with you for the very first time.

“Which one is this?” she asked, the strong scent immediately woke her up, and while it was bitter it had a taste just as strong as the scent. It was bitter enough that she needed to add a bit of sugar to it.

“Turkish, you saw the process, and that,” you pointed at the thin and tall pot. “Is most often called a cezve,” you explained and took a sip of the coffee, clearly enjoying yourself.

Tara smiled, leaning a bit closer to you, enjoying the warmth of the coffee and your presence.

~X~

“Caffè mocha!” she knew this one, she never really went out of her way to try it, but she knew it, and she was proud to show you she could name what you just made for her.

“Mhm,” you were drinking with her behind the counter again, as it was a habit you seemed to develop ever since you made that Turkish coffee for her. “Figured you deserved something sweet for getting an A on that exam,” you nudged her lightly and she grinned, all happy and proud.

“You know it,” she looked at you and felt ready to finally take that next step. In fact, she’s been trying to get herself hyped up to say it since your meeting with Sam went well. “Say, Y/N,” she began and cleared her throat.

“Yeah?” your full attention was on her, made possible by lack of customers at the moment and Tara thanked whatever higher being arranged for that to happen.

“I want to make coffee for you,” she said and you raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her offer. “Come and hang out at my place? I mean, Sam will be there because she is really protective, but uh, yeah, come to my place,” she stopped herself before she could start rambling.

“I’d love that,” you said and that was when her luck ran out, as a customer came into the coffee shop and you had to go and get his order. “I’d absolutely love that,” you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and Tara pumped her fist and cheered quietly, much to your amusement.

~X~

You couldn't remember the last time you were this nervous; after all a beautiful girl just invited you to her apartment. Granted with her older sister present as well, but she did invite you. You looked up at the building in front of you, it was almost daunting with how many floor it had and as far as you knew there were no elevators and Tara lived on the top floor. You still had no idea why, or why Sam was as protective of Tara as she was.

You understood older sibling protectiveness, but Sam took it to the next level.

“I can do this,” you hyped yourself up and typed in the code Tara gave you. The heavy metal doors opened, and you stepped in, beginning the long journey up the stairs. Well, at least this was a good test to see if you were still in shape. And it turned out you were still in good shape! Which was great because otherwise you would have had a lot of troubles keeping your heart rate normal. Your heart was already beating faster than it should just because you were about to meet up with Tara but that was beside the point, at least you didn’t have to worry about whether you were or weren’t in shape. You reached the door of her apartment and took another deep breath. “I can do this,” you whispered to yourself, and you checked the flower bouquet and the box of chocolates you brought. Frankly speaking, you may have dressed to impress a bit too much, but knowing Tara she would find it endearing.

At least you hoped she would.

You were just about to knock when the door suddenly opened and you were met with the girl you had a crush on for the past several weeks. Could the ground beneath your feet just open and swallow you whole? This was too embarrassing! “Oh, hi!” you stammered embarrassed as she caught you in front of her own doors like a dumbass who couldn't even get the courage to knock on the doors of the girl that invited them in herself.

“Hi,” she blushed and looked down and you found yourself thinking she looked so adorable like this. And then you both just laughed because you were both ridiculously shy about this. All that confidence you had back at the coffee shop was seemingly gone, as it was blown away by the wind blowing around the building. “Oh, shit, sorry, come on in!” Tara seemed to realize she was blocking your entrance and stepped aside letting you come in and join her inside.

“Right, thank you for having me,” you cleared your throat and gave her the flowers and the box of chocolates. “Uh, this is for you. I didn't know what you liked so I just went with the cliche option,” you nervously rubbed the back of your neck as heat rushed to your cheeks. Tara smiled and took it from you, and her fingers brushed against your own.

“Thanks, I love it,” and so you went inside followed her to the living room where Sam was already waiting.

“Hello, Sam,” you nodded, greeting her and she nodded back.

“Come on sit down, I won't bite,” Sam smiled kindly at you and gestured towards the sofa “Tara's been really nervous about impressing you, just so you know,” her words cause Tara to adorably blush once more.

“Sam please,” the younger Carpenter sister groaned and seemed to make herself even smaller than she was and then she just pointed toward what you assumed was the kitchen. “I’m just going to go and make coffee.”

Unlike you, she had a way to flee.

But that meant you would be alone with Sam.

“Wait! Do you need help? You know, since I am a professional and all that,” you were grasping at straws, pleading for mercy, because anything would be better than being along with Sam. Even all these weeks after you met her she still made you nervous. Tara seemed to relax at seeing you were just as nervous as she was, if not more and she laughed patting you on the back.

“I think I can handle myself,” well, as long as she felt better you figured you could take some teasing. Resigning to your fate you just sighed and sat down as Tara left you and Sam alone.

“So, what are your intentions with my sister?” Sam asked without a hint of joking, she was completely serious, and you choked on air, only to then hear her chuckling. “Relax I'm just messing with you. Let's just wait for Tara to come back with coffee.”

Well, that was a relief. So, you sat there in silence, and you had a feeling this was only awkward for you, from the looks of it for Sam it was more amusing slash comfortable. Finally, after way too much time, Tara came back with three coffee mugs and she sat down next to you. You recognized the smell the moment she stepped into the living room and you couldn’t describe how happy you were.

“I've been practicing,” she confessed and it showed because the coffee smelled wonderful.

“Cortado,” you would recognize the scent anywhere and she, from the looks of it, did it perfectly.

Tara smacked her forehead in frustration “Damn, I was sure you wouldn't guess it. Guess that’s a pro for you,” she, clearly still annoyed, handed a twenty dollar bill to a rather satisfied Sam.

“It's one of my favorites actually,” you confessed and her eyes widened at that.

“So how come you never made it for me?” she sounded offended as if something special between you just became a tiny bit less special.

“It's not on the menu, and well I like to keep this one for special people. And in private, can't have customers smelling this and asking about it,” you shrugged and took the sip of the coffee. You were right, it really was perfect, even more so since Tara was the one who made it for you.

“Fine, you goofball, but you're making it for me next time. At your own apartment,” you could work with that even if Sam nearly choked when Tara said that.

[blackenedsnow]

Hello! I love your writing and I hope you're having a good day/night! Could you do Sonic dating someone with social anxiety and is also an introvert? I struggle with social anxiety myself and have a hard time speaking up sometimes, especially with new people. Sonic is a comfort character of mine that I'd think would do his best to help their anxious partner in situations where they're overwhelmed. Take your time write this! No pressure at all!❤️

sonic dating a reader with anxiety ; headcanons

WARNING: Anxiety

PAIRING: Sonic the Hedgehog x Reader

NOTE: Thank you so much for trusting me with this request! I poured a lot into Sonic’s support here. Remember, there’s no pressure to be anything other than yourself here. Take care, and know you’re never alone in this! ❤️

Sonic had always been able to talk to anyone without a second thought, so it took him a little while to fully grasp the extent of your social anxiety.

At first, he’d notice that you’d freeze up or look uncomfortable when around new people, or that you’d stay in the background at gatherings.

But once he understood, it clicked for him in a big way.

The idea of his favorite person being scared or overwhelmed really tugged at his heart, and he made a silent promise to help in every way he could.

Whether it’s a small gathering with his friends or a larger event, Sonic keeps you close, always aware of your comfort level.

If he sees you start to withdraw or tense up, he’ll step in smoothly.

Sometimes it’s with a joke to defuse the situation, sometimes with a quick distraction, or just a comforting hand on your shoulder as if to say, “I’ve got you. You’re not alone.”

Sonic is very perceptive of when things start to become too much for you.

If you’re at a crowded place and he notices you’re feeling uneasy, he’ll lean in with a gentle,

“Wanna go somewhere quieter?”

If you nod, he’ll flash you a reassuring smile, and in an instant, he’ll whisk you away to a quieter corner or outside where you can catch your breath.

He’s never pushy, always giving you the option to leave if that’s what you need.

Sonic has a knack for knowing when to use his lighthearted, playful approach to help lift the weight off your shoulders.

Sonic quickly picked up on the times when speaking up felt impossible for you.

If you’re at a restaurant and struggling to order or around others who are dominating the conversation, he’ll step in for you without missing a beat.

“Hey, can we get a little more space here?” or “Mind if we let my amazing partner share their thoughts?”

His casual way of giving you room to express yourself makes things a bit easier, knowing he’s on your side.

Sonic’s always hyper-aware in crowded spaces.

He’s like a human (or, well, hedgehog) shield, positioning himself so you’re buffered from the hustle and bustle.

He’ll keep you close, sometimes holding your hand tightly, or if you’re really nervous, he’ll even wrap his arm around you protectively.

Sonic’s not usually one for PDA, but he’ll make an exception to help you feel safe and grounded.

Sonic celebrates your small victories, knowing how much courage it takes.

Whether it’s speaking up in a group, meeting a new friend, or even just making it through a social outing, he’ll always be there with a proud smile, a high-five, or a quick

“You did awesome, I’m so proud of you!”

It’s never over-the-top or embarrassing—just Sonic’s way of reminding you that every step counts.

Sonic knows that sometimes, you just need to be alone to recharge.

He doesn’t take it personally; in fact, he admires how self-aware you are about your own needs.

If you let him know you need a day to yourself, he’ll give you space without hesitation.

But of course, he’ll check in with a quick text like,

“Hope you’re doing okay! Take all the time you need. Catch you soon, alright?” so you know he’s thinking of you.

When Sonic senses your anxiety building up, he’ll subtly try to get you laughing, often with something silly just to lighten the mood.

He’s not afraid to make a fool of himself if it means you’ll feel a little less tense.

Sonic doesn’t shy away from asking if you’re okay when he notices you’ve been unusually quiet or down.

His usual upbeat tone softens a bit as he gently checks in,

“You seem a little off—wanna talk about it?”

He’s a great listener, and even if you find it hard to talk about your feelings, he’ll give you all the time you need, never rushing or judging.

Even though Sonic will step in when you need it, he also encourages you to find ways to work through your social anxiety at your own pace.

He’ll suggest small steps, always patient and gentle, understanding that it takes time.

“Wanna try saying hi to Knuckles on your own today?” he’ll ask with an encouraging grin.

He’s proud of every little step you take.

Above all, Sonic’s love for you is constant, patient, and kind.

He never makes you feel ashamed or like you’re a burden.

He sees your social anxiety as a part of you, not something that defines you.

To him, you’re amazing just as you are, and he’s always there, ready to support you no matter what.

[amazinglyashy]

hi! i was wondering if i can request lads boys comforting their s/o bc their cat has passed. my baby passed today and i’m grieving really hard. thank you and have an amazing day🫶🏻

Moving this one up immediately in my box just to express my condolences. Your baby was very loved, I'm sure, and I hope you get through this tough time with care <3 I'm sorry for your loss. It's a tough time, regardless of who you're losing. My partner's grandpa passed a couple years back and I remember us crying, laughing and bowling, crying again, and talking a lot. Heck, I went to a craft store right after I heard the news and wandered around for two hours without any goal. I think I bought lolipop sticks. Take care love <3 You'll get through this. I know it's hard.

LaDS men when your pet cat has passed away

Xavier -

Since he lives so close by, your baby was his baby too, so he's devastated. Not equally so, he knows you spent more time with them, and you had them long before you had met him, but still- the pain exists.

The both of you are a bundle of blankets for a long while, just lying in the comfort and going through the both of your phones as you look for every single photo or video that has your cat in it, even just a little bit.

Lots of tears, but lots of laughs as well.

Everything is clear and apparent with every single memory the two of you go through- every little quirk your cat had, every little habit they had-

You both have a really nice time just talking about your cat, and any of the goofy mischief they used to get up to.

Of course you cry, and of course Xavier holds you through it. He knows how hard this is for you, and he knows it'll pass.

But until then, he's got you.

He's always got you.

Zayne -

He may be pragmatic to an extreme sometimes, but when it comes to grieving, he knows how hard it can be on the human psychic.

Not to mention on someone like you, who's already been through enough.

He'll definitely ask you if you want a hug, and if the answer is yes, he'll hold you, squeezing you so snugly and for so long that surely his muscle memory doesn't know a different position anymore.

Warm tea or cocoa, his old cardigan on your shoulders, pillows and blankets surrounding you on the couch, and just…

A lot of care.

If you ask him for any opinions or advice, he probably won't be able to give it to you. He doesn't want to risk anything coming out abrasive when you're still so tender, so he'll settle for condolences and anything comforting he can think of.

"I know it hurts. And you can try as you might, but the hole they left won't ever manage to be blocked out. All you can do is keep going, and hold their memory close."

Sylus -

Deep breath, it's going to be alright.

Loss is definitely something he's familiar with- and it's partially why he doesn't have anyone of his own. Mephisto may have a personality, but he's also mechanical. There's no way for him to disappear, because every bit of data in him gets saved, just in case.

But there's also no way your cat will disappear either, because Sylus has saved every memory of her, to make sure you will always have something should this day arrived.

He just didn't expect it to come so soon.

Doesn't matter what job he has, it's left to Luke and Kieran. He's by your side to care for you in whatever capacity you may need. He takes a lot of initiative, but he also asks you a lot of questions too. He doesn't want to risk making you uncomfortable, and he knows you're extra tender right now.

A lot of physical affection if that's what you need, and a lot of ideas to help you through it- whether he takes you out somewhere to help distract you from the pain, or goes through old memories with you to help you grieve through it, he'll do anything.

For as long as you may need.

Rafayel -

He hated cats.

Except for this one.

That was partially your fault, but also partially the darned cat's fault for being such a love.

He's devastated, both for you, and for himself.

He'll hug you- kiss you. Anything he can think of that usually cheers you up, even though he knows there's really nothing that's going to help right now.

He's been there, he's experienced loss. He knows what you're going through, and unfortunately- he knows that also means there's not really any helping it.

Someday when you're ready- could be in a month, could be three years from now, it doesn't matter at all him- he'll make you probably one of the favorite gifts you'll ever receive from him.

It's a portrait of your past baby, flowing full of life and color with eyes that sparkle almost as well as theirs did back when they were still around.

Almost.

And sometimes, 'almost' is more than enough to help ease the pain.

[infinite--92]

Glowing like a Lily

The following day, a knock on the door of Miranda's house echoed through the room as the women of Infinite 92 gathered for their weekly meeting. Miranda opened the door to reveal a young woman standing there, carrying a warm smile that mirrored her mother's.

She looked to be in her early twenties, her features strikingly similar to Claire’s—same bright eyes, the same confident stance. But what caught everyone’s attention was her belly, round and full, just like the rest of them. It was a sight both familiar and comforting.

A New Face Joins the Group

"Hello," she said, her voice clear and steady. "I'm Lily, Claire's eldest daughter. I hope it’s okay that I came. My mom told me about you all, and I wanted to meet you."

Sophie, who had been sitting closest to the door, immediately got up to greet her. “Of course! Come in, please. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

Lily stepped inside, looking around the room with curiosity and excitement. She could see the understanding smiles on the faces of Sophie, Miranda, Emily, and Ava, a silent acknowledgment of their shared condition.

Miranda gestured towards the couch. "Make yourself comfortable, Lily. We’re all eager to hear your story."

Lily's Introduction

Lily took a seat and looked at the women gathered before her. “It’s surreal being here,” she admitted. “Growing up, I always felt like my mom, my sister and I were the only ones with this... well, this unique condition. But seeing you all, it feels like I’m finally meeting people who understand what it’s like.”

Emily nodded, her eyes filled with empathy. “I know what you mean. It can feel isolating at times. But you’re not alone anymore.”

Lily smiled, grateful for the warm welcome. “Thank you. It’s incredible to see how supportive you all are of each other.”

Growing Up with the Condition

Miranda, always keen to learn more, leaned forward slightly. “Your mom mentioned that your belly started growing during your teenage years, just like hers did. What was it like for you, growing up with this?”

Lily took a deep breath. “It was a rollercoaster, to be honest. When I was 14, I noticed my belly beginning to swell. At first, it was gradual, and I could hide it under baggy clothes. But by the time I was 16, it became impossible to conceal. I was nervous about going to school and facing questions. People thought I was pregnant, and the rumors were hard to deal with.”

Ava reached out to pat Lily’s hand. “That sounds tough. How did you manage it?”

Lily’s expression softened as she remembered those days. “My mom was my rock. She went through it all before me, so she knew exactly what I was feeling. She helped me navigate the awkward conversations, the judgmental stares. It was hard at first, but over time, I learned to embrace it. I realised that this is just a part of who I am.”

Finding Confidence

Sophie couldn’t help but smile at the young woman’s resilience. “You’re amazing,” she said. “We’ve only been dealing with this for a few months, and it’s been such a challenge. But you’ve had years of experience.”

Lily shrugged with a playful grin. “It gets easier, trust me. I had a lot of support from my family, and eventually, I stopped caring about what other people thought. Instead, I focused on what made me feel good. I started wearing clothes that showed off my belly because hiding it felt like I was ashamed, and I wasn’t. I’m proud of who I am.”

Her words struck a chord with the women in the room. It was a reminder that their bodies, as different as they were, did not define their worth. Instead, it was their strength, their journey, and the love they had for themselves and each other that truly mattered.

A New Perspective

Miranda, intrigued by Lily’s confidence, asked, “Do you feel like this condition has held you back in any way? Your mother mentioned that she was able to live a normal life, get married, and have children.”

Lily nodded. “It hasn’t held me back, but it did shape my life in unexpected ways. I had to mature faster than my peers because of the attention and the questions. But I’ve learned to use it as a strength. I’m studying to become a therapist now because I want to help other people who feel different or out of place. I want them to see that they can still lead fulfilling lives.”

The room buzzed with admiration. Here was a young woman who had faced challenges head-on and turned them into a source of inspiration for others.

Bonding with the Group

As the conversation continued, the women shared their own stories with Lily—Sophie talked about her initial shock and fear, Emily shared how her confidence had grown after connecting with others in the group, and Ava spoke about how she was learning to embrace her new body.

Lily listened intently, her eyes shining with empathy and understanding. “You’re all incredible,” she said finally. “It’s amazing how you’ve found strength in each other. I’m so glad to be here.”

Miranda, feeling a surge of emotion, reached out and hugged Lily. “We’re glad you’re here too. The more we share, the stronger we become.”

A New Member of Infinite 92

By the end of the meeting, it was clear that Lily had found a new home within Infinite 92. She had connected with the group in a way that felt natural, as if she had always belonged there. The women welcomed her with open arms, eager to learn from her experiences and gain strength from her example.

As Lily left Miranda’s house that day, she felt a warmth in her heart she hadn’t experienced before. She had grown up feeling like an outsider, but now she had found a sisterhood, a community where she was understood and accepted. The women of Infinite 92 had become more than just friends—they were her family.

For Sophie, Miranda, Emily, Ava, and now Lily, this meeting marked the beginning of a new chapter in their journey. They were no longer just individuals dealing with a strange condition; they were a united force, a community of women who were embracing their uniqueness together. And they knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them side by side.

[639-hear-me-out-bby]

pairing: namjoon x afab! pregnant! reader

warnings: pregnancy mentions (nothing heavy, just the idea of being pregnant)

a/n: hello! so this is just me testing my waters on writing again after losing my mind to an indefinite hiatus + studying. hope y'all enjoy!

"Well, aegi has been very active recently. As much as I hate to admit it babe, it's probably 'cause you've been home over the weekend." You say as you trail behind.

"Pregnancy is no joke in Korea, hon. I'll give it that." You say as you trail behind Namjoon who's been carrying yet another box to the nursery. "Well, that's what a hardworking country gets. All the economy, none of the kids," he trails off as he enters the nursery, "Watch yourself, baby. You, your clumsy self, and our soccer star."

What you say is true. As you've been reading relentlessly all the prenatal books the world has to offer. It's been saying that you should listen to classical music or, at least, play music so it stimulates the baby and you have been doing that but it's just not working.

But life has been colorful on the recent days. All this "baby prep", as Namjoon would call it, has you in a whirlwind. Deliveries and packages have built up on your home's doorstep the minute you've hit your second trimester.

Namjoon carefully sets down the box, brushing a stray hair out of his eyes as he turns to you, a soft smile lighting up his face. "Guess our little one knows when Appa's around," he says, his voice a mix of pride and amazement.

You walk over to the box he’s just placed, giving it a curious shake, and laugh as he raises an eyebrow at you. "What? I'm just trying to guess which of your 500 delivery orders this is," you tease.

He chuckles, reaching out to pull you close, his hand resting gently on your bump. "Hey, I can't help it if our baby deserves the best. Plus, I have to compensate for all those long work hours," he says, a bit of guilt lacing his words. You can tell he's still adjusting to balancing his passion for his career with this new life you're building together.

You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling his warmth seep into you, grounding you in this perfect moment. "Well, all that matters is that you're here now," you whisper, feeling your heart swell as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

As if on cue, the baby kicks—a strong, unmistakable nudge that has both of you jolting. You gasp, and Namjoon's eyes light up, pure joy spreading across his face as he drops to one knee, hands instantly resting on your belly. "Was that…? Oh, aegi, you’re going to be a real little champ," he murmurs softly to the bump.

The way he talks to your baby, that quiet adoration in his voice, makes you melt. He’s already so in love, and you realize this journey is going to be so much sweeter because of moments like this. Your hand rests on his, fingers lacing as you both stay there in the stillness, absorbing every flutter and heartbeat.

In that moment, you know that, yes, life is a whirlwind. But with him, it’s the most beautiful one you could ever imagine.

[homelander-rp-blog]

“maybe not a knife but my father taught me few things about guns so I guess I can at least take a proper shot!” he fills himself a cup as well while they linger here and chat. “do you..think your brother will be back? I-I mean.. with those things prowling about and.. God I shouldn’t talk like this, I’m just going to jinx it.” He holds the hot cup with both hands, watching how the steam raises and curls in the air until finally disappears “it’s near eight already and.. I just hope morning comes soon, you know? I feel kind of bad that.. it’s dark outside and all. Sunlight brings a sort of security I think I can’t explain it but erm.. you can see your surroundings better, you know?”

From her state, John can say she’s deeply exhausted. They both had been through a lot for one day. “maybe you can take a nap at my cabin? Just for an hour if you want.” He blushes, blaming the hot coffee for making him go red in the face.

Outside, it isn’t much difference. The blizzard started at first stage already, harsh wind and snow slamming right in his face once he steps out, almost sending him thrown over onto the snow. He curses with himself, when looking up he shockingly finds higher up sky is clear like a normal winter night and those lights are even more glowing, a milky way of all colors and now looking much more closer to their camp as if hanging above here like a night lamp. The picture could be romantic any other night but right now, it just adds to the fear he feels deep in his guts. Sensation of someone is watching them through the trees or from the shadows sends a shiver to his back.

“Nadie!” he has to yell to be heard on the wind “take my hand!” so they won’t lose each other in the storm. It just got too tense that the flickering lights of other cabins can barely be seen and John is amazed how they still have electricity running under this heavy storm?!

Finally, things seemed to calm down. At least now Nadie could take a few minutes to breathe. To really think through what was happening and what to do next. Her muscles eased and Nadie nearly collapsed against the wall behind her, pressing a hand to her forehead.

He... wanted to stay with her? Nadie wasnt quite sure how to feel about that. Was it only for safety, or was there another reason? Then again... did it really matter? John was right; they needed to stick together in pairs and groups in order to keep everyone safe.

" Yeah, you're right. Better stick with me. I'm going to stay here for a few hours and wait for my brother but... we can go to your cabin for a bit to get anything you need, " Nadie ran a hand through her hair, feeling a certain fatigue grabbing hold of her muscles. It had only been a few hours and already Nadie wanted to take a nap.

Dragging herself over to the coffee machine, barely hanging on with duct tape as so many things were around here, Nadie jammed buttons with a grumble. After a few seconds, a hiss erupted from the machine and the pleasantly deep aroma of ground coffee filled the air. With just that simple addition to the room, Nadie felt a little more confident in her ability to handle this situation - if only Esau was here.

" And until Esau shows up, I need someone to do rounds with. Can you handle a knife at least? Just in case? "

[orchideae]

Lantern Rite leaks (I know these are just things so far, etc. usual):

Listen, listen, listen, I've been so highly anticipating Lantern Rite 2024 since it ended this year (it was my first one, it was amazing; one of the reasons why Liyue will always rate so very highly for me) and I'll be thrilled with whatever it is that we get, but!!! Light negative nancy incoming (understandably so, I think), forgive me, stop reading if you'd prefer: no Ningguang, no Beidou, No Madame Ping?? NO YELAN at all??! (Me: listen, I'll be happy to just see her, doesn't even need to speak, I will never expect more, it's perfectly IC)

Edit: Ok ok, we're better. I got so frustrated at the '19' that I missed the 66. But also, IS THIS STILL LANTERN RITE OR IS THIS CHENYU VALE?

[apollos-boyfriend]

SPARKLEZ!

You wouldn't believe the things I've seen. Or maybe you would. What do I know?

Worlds upon worlds of wonder have embraced my many selves. I'm living a thousand lives at once. And those are just the lives I'm aware of. For instance, in a place called Middle Earth I am reborn a beautiful elf queen. And under the ice shield of a moon called Europa I am a strand of plankton. And in a world we both know well, I'm a bunch of little girls who look just like me, and maybe other things too... Anyway, my umbrella consciousness has reformed for just a moment; my caretaker, in his mercy, has allowed me to show you these things.

But you definitely won't believe the most amazing thing I've seen. Lately I've been looking through a window... A window into bygone years. A man sits in front of a screen, speaking his soul to the world while playing a game. I think I know who he is!

I see this man forming friendships with those who also speak to the world. I know who they are too. They project themselves as tiny box figures into a world made of boxes. It's so much less detailed than the world where the man and his friends sit. I would not have known Ruxomar and it's sister dimensions to be so childlike in appearance except by this contrast!

The days go on as the friends play. The boxlike world is ruled by two gods. Of course I know who they are. The man is faced with a choice between the two. His life is riddled with choices! And like the stubborn idealist he is, he carves out a middle path. He'll take neither god. He'll have a goddess all to his own.

He created me.

A man named Jordan Maron created the goddess Ianite in a world beyond worlds. And Jordan Maron looks just like you. He is one of your countless alternate selves. He looks so much less boxy! I think that if I did not already know you and Spark so well, I would call him my favorite version.

Now I grasp the truth I have been seeking all my life. I have see what is above gods. It is ____________.

My umbrella consciousness won't hold much longer. Let me say a few choice words before the final goodbye between this version of you and this version of me. Thank you for choosing to create me. I believe that had the other you not made that choice in that far off world, none of my present selves would exist. In a strange sense, you are my god. Thank you for believing in your creation enough to make it real. Thank you for continuing to love me and make choices for my wellbeing. I hope another you loves another me in another world soon.

If Jordan looks out the window one of these days, he might be able to see me.

Not even creeping. Just fyi.

Forever Your Lady

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[kisses4reid]

criminally hot | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you get wrongfully accused by a sheriff, and it isn’t you who’s angriest. it’s your boyfriend who has to expose your relationship in order to clear you.

genre - spencer x bau!fem!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, angry reid x calm reader

wc - 1.2k

warnings - reader uses she/her pronouns, handcuffs, violence, a weird white man i know id be fucking scared as well, oh swearing as well.

a/n - i love u you’re so awkward i am doing so well bc of ur request, keep requesting things your brain is crazy. ummm anyways this is my first time writing this kinda thing omg how exciting okay start reading it wtf you still doing here?

request - ( from @babyoureahauntedhouse ) omg hii!!! :3 this is my first time requesting, so please excuse the awkwardness 😭😭😭😭 first of all, how are you????? i hope you’re doing amazing!!! absolutely no pressure, but can you do one where reader gets falsely arrested (not a huge thing, maybe in a police station at a small town or something) and spencer absolutely **loses** his shit at how she’s being treated????? like, she’s freezing and the sheriff or somethjng keeps pushing her and then he just bursts into the interrogation room and uncuffs her and it’s just very fluffy???? thank you!

Emily handed you your coffee with a smile, receiving a small thank you in return. It was warm in your hands and created a comforting contrast to the cool chill of the police precinct you were set up in.

Things were going well given that you’d only been in the small town for half a day. The team debriefed on the plane, but Aaron had been on the phone with the leading detective for at least an hour now asking him where he was.

Emily headed off to the restrooms when a slender hand made its way to your waist. You turned and felt your cheeks heat, knowing exactly who is was.

“Hi Spencer.”

“Hi Y/n.” His eyes held sweetness in the chocolate swirls, and you felt like a kid who had been given candy. Spencer and you had been dating for a few months, but somehow in a team of profilers you both kept things under wraps, even with Spencer’s clumsy touches and your lingering stares. “I wish we were home,” he whispered.

You glanced around for anyone who could witness your interaction and get suspicious, but you were mostly alone other than Hotch and some officers who were weirdly taking a lot of attention to you.

“Yeah me too. I’m feeling oddly popular and not in the good way.”

Before you could talk more or offer him a sip of your coffee (even if you know he doesn’t like it), Aaron calls his name and the slim tall boy scurries away with a straight face.

You turn to find something to do. To reread a case, to help someone fill out papers, to talk to Morgan or Garcia. You would’ve opted to huddling in your cardigan if a tall man didn’t interrupt.

“Y/n L/n?” He asked in monotone. His arms were at his sides, one hovering above a pair of cuffs that hung from his police belt. Furrowing your eyebrows you answered,

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

“You’re under arrest for the robberies of…”

His voice pounded into the background of your head, thoughts attacking your eyes through a sudden headache as the words registered before you could help it. The room was silent except for the man’s voice, yet all you could hear was the furrow of eyebrows and quick approach of your boss, Aaron Hotchner.

“What’s going on here?”

“Your agent has been seen…”

You stood still as another officer came behind you and forced handcuffs onto your arms, gripping your wrists with unnecessary force that would surely leave bruises. You winced and looked between your boss and the officer, and then at Spencer, who was being pulled back by Morgan. He yelled your name in worry, witnessing the hardened grips on your body and rough pushing you were being subject to. Your coffee splattered on the ground, staining your white shoes.

There was only mumbles and white noise, as your eyes met with Spencer’s. The large officer behind you kicked your leg to get you moving, the shock glueing your shoes to the rubbery floor. And you almost didn’t even notice the hand on the back of your neck pushing you towards a dark room with a desk and two chairs.

You were so familiar with these rooms and yet it felt so different.

Of course, you didn’t actually do anything. And of course you attempt to clear that up to the officers who are slamming their hands on the table and screaming as much as they could, in a poor attempt to intimidate you.

Aaron was in the corner with a scolding face and hard hand to his chin, observing the situation with an intensity you barely ever see.

“Last month, you were seen at one of the houses that got robbed over night. You left a few days later, after also being seen at two of the other houses-“

“So she was seen at three of the ten houses robbed and you arrest her?” Aaron spoke up, bringing the men’s attention to your boss instead of you. You took the opportunity to look outside of the window.

Though it wasn’t clear, you could make out the outline of a tall boy you wished would just break into the room and save you.

And he did.

“Your evidence is illogical and childish. She’s an FBI agent for gods sake-“

“Anybody can be a suspect Agent Hotchner, even federal agents.” The tall one replied with a stubborn mumbled.

Suddenly, the door was slammed open and you were met with a disheveled Spencer panting with a red and severe face. He didn’t even bother looking at you before he starting schooling the men in blue, who at that point were glaring at him and attempting to look more intimidating than they actually were.

“I’ve read your files on this case and nothing links to Y/n L/n, not one-“

“There’s no way you read our-“

“I can read more in a minute than you can in a day, dickhead. Y/n was meeting old school friends when she was in town, we went to the Diner Inn afterwards and we met with her parents who have receipts for the meals because they’re-“ he turned his glance at you,” “sorry Y/n- they’re hoarders. You have nothing against her other than some positively reported visits and some photos of her hugging the house owners.” Spencer had slowly pinned the officers to the opposite wall unconsciously. It was hot. “I was there, I’m her receipt. And like her parents, she loves keeping those. So if you want to insist she’s your culprit, go for it. But your going against a man with eidetic memory and a lot of evidence.”

And while he was logical and correct, he was also a little too truthful.

The officers blinked in fear. Spencer definitely didn’t seem the type to yell or swear, so this clear, concise and undermining approach to the situation was somehow even scarier.

“Spencer,” you began, “thank you.”

He looked at you, his expression softening into empathy and care, “Of course.” His hands found a key in his back pocket as he approached you, starting to promptly uncuff you.

As Aaron continued to speak with the officers of their major mistake, Spencer took you outside of the room and into a private office. Your heart was racing, but it seemed Spencer was more stressed than you. He paced as you leaned onto the front of a wooden desk, hands over your chest as your eyes trailed Spencer.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I should’ve reacted faster, then you wouldn’t have been..” He stopped closely in front of you, his breath hot on yours as his gaze scoured over your body for injuries or bruises. “Are you okay?”

You smile calmly, “I’m fine. My leg hurts, and I think my wrists will be bruised, but I’m fine.”

He took your hands and rubbed his thumbs on your wrists carefully, causing butterflies to explode in your stomach.

“Thank you Spencer.” Your eyes dance with each others. “You were really hot. Maybe I need to get arrested more often.” You joke with a lift to your voice and a smirk, causing him to look down with a smile and shake his head.

“If being angry makes me hot maybe you should reevaluate what you-“

Your lips found his, you hand going to his bicep and his going to the back of your neck, before a clearing of the throat took you both out of your trances. It was Hotch.

“I’ve got some paperwork you both need to sign. About the arrest and,” his hand waved between you two, “this.”

Morgan stood behind Aaron with a smirk, leaving quickly to go tell Garcia that she had lost their bet.

taglist: @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es

[lilybug-02]

Final Bug Fact:

The world NEEDS bugs. They keep the soil healthy, pollinate, control pests, and contribute to the worlds' ecosystem. By the end of the century, it is estimated 40% of insect species may go extinct due to habitat loss. Yes, that is very scary. But with even one beetle spared, one caterpillar rescued, and one Hollow Knight comic of all things, things will change. Because I know there's a lot more Dewi's out there than most people realize. Stay curious.

Thanks for going on this adventure with me. ♥︎

First || Prev // END

Masterpost

Comic Thoughts and Pictures Below!

I wanted to put here how amazing and sweet everyone has been with this comic. I finished a 75 page comic in 3 MONTHS. I am at a loss for words. That sounds crazy and it IS crazy. But man was it fun. Even on days were I wasn't able to draw due to fatigue or business, I loved working on it from start to finish. And guess what!? This is my first ever FINISHED comic :D I'm so proud of myself. I know there's some things I want to change and the art is wonky in most places...... but I'm content to let it be. What an amazing summer adventure!

I'm hoping to post the full comic on another Comic website. I may or may not edit some of the art ^w^ So I'll let y'all know when I release it.

Interested in learning what you could do to help your local insects? This is the basic stuff. Maybe make some Insect Hotels if you have the time!!! And never forget to spread the word about bugs. They need our help just as any animal on earth.

Still Here? Well you can look in the tags for little lore dumps if ur looking for stuff like that ;)

[5sospenguinqueen]

Taste - Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: She’ll just have to taste you when he’s kissing her. When Max and Kelly break up, the pair of you start something sweet. But, it only lasts a short while when your conflicting schedules drive him back into her arms. 

Warnings: Kelly Piquet slander. 

Requested: No, I’m just obsessed with making up fantasies whilst I drive home from work with my music on

Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (yes, I know she’s used a lot but I stole her song and her occupation so why not steal her face) 

F1 Masterlist

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f1wags just posted

liked by user1, redbullracing and others

f1wags max verstappen and kelly piquet both confirmed they have seperated, posting a short statement on their instagram stories. the news comes after months of speculation after explosive arguments were caught on camera

3,306 comments

user1 omg did anyone see that red bull admin liked this and then unliked it

user2 thank god! i’ve been waiting for this day for ever

user3 can we see him date someone his own age now that didn’t go after him when he was a teen? 

user4 finally! turns out manifesting works 

user5 he always looked so upset after they argued. hopefully he finds someone good for him

user6 hear me out, but how hot would he look with yn ln

→ user7 like they’d ever cross paths. he’s an athlete and she’s a pop star 

→ user6 yes but my point is that they would look hot together 

→ user8 he did have one of her songs playing in the background of a stream once?

user9 i love how she’s really laying it on thick in hers and he’s just like “yeah, it’s over” 

→ user10 we love an unbothered king

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mclaren just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

mclaren we have a special guest in the garage this weekend. thank you @/yn_ln for joining us

6,098 comments

yn_ln thank you so much for having me! i had an amazing weekend but i don’t think i’ll be in a rush to do hot laps again

→ landonorris don’t be like that. i know you had fun! 

→ yn_ln idk who trusted you with a licence but they should be fired

→ landonorris idk why they call you short and sweet :( 

user1 she looks soooo good wtf  liked by maxverstappen1

oscarpiastri it was really fun having you in the garage. thank you for making lando seem tall. now he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of the weekend

→ yn_ln f1 girlies, can you tell me if he’s dating the curly haired one?

→ oscarpiastri well played. i apologise for bringing your height into this

→ user2 yes, yes they are, yn

user3 chat, is this real? my fave singer in my fave team’s garage! two worlds colliding 

charles_leclerc omg please stop by ferrari. my girlfriend, alex, absolutely loves you

→ yn_ln come pick me up! (‘cause i don’t know my way around the paddock) and i’d love to meet her

user4 omg somebody tell max. i hope she gets lost and stumbles into red bull

→ user5 my delusions might come true if that happens

→ user6 he saw her when charles was walking her over to ferrari

→ user4 and?! 

→ user6 nothing. he turned around and went back into the garage

→ user7 yeah after he went bright red! 

f1wags just posted

liked by user8, shortnsweet and others

f1wags only two months since his split from model, kelly piquet, max verstappen has been linked to singer, yn ln. the pair have been spotted numerous times on dates and caught in moments of affection

2,999 comments

user8 yn’s clothing brand liked this! 

→ user9 that doesn’t mean anything?

→ user8 well, considering that is her own brand, and they’re a part of her image, i’d say it means something 

user10 anyone else notice that they’re wearing different outfits in every photo, which means they’re all from different days/dates

user11 i’m going feral

user12 okay but you can’t even deny that this is them because it very clearly is 

user13 people said i was crazy when i talked about these two being together! 

user14 they’re so hot together. i might actually combust 

user15 i’m (s)creaming

user16 the hand holding 🥹 they’re not just fucking

user17 my new otp 

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kellypiquet just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, piquetjr and others

kellypiquet my 🩷

2,987 comments 

maxverstappen1 ❤️

→ user1 aha this is such a dry response lmao 

user2 wtf? i thought he was with yn

→ user3 that was just a rumour 

user4 he looks much better with yn 

→ user5 yeah but she can’t give him the stable relationship he needs so no wonder he went back to kelly. she’s always there lmao 

→ user6 yeah because she never lets that man go. she’s possessive and it’s not healthy

user7 max is so cute with p 

user8 my favourite thing about this post is that all of these pics are old because max is currently in a press conference with his long hair, not these short strands

user9 how could he leave yn like this? they were so cute together 

(comments on this post have been disabled)

yn_ln just posted

liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and others

yn_ln in honour of my tour starting, please enjoy my new single taste! 💋

14,033 comments

user1 omg a new album, a new tour and an additional song?

alexandrasaintmleux got this on repeat 

→ charles_leclerc this is true. it’s all we’ve had in the car

→ alexandrasaintmleux don’t act like you don’t know all the words 

user2 this was 100% written because of the max situation

jennaortega but how hot do we look 

user3 not kelly liking this! 

→ user4 i like to think the middle picture is aimed at her for stealing yn’s man

redbullracing blue is definitely your colour

→ mclaren she looks better in orange 

→ scuderiaferrari we think she should try red next 

→ yn_ln i’ll wear whatever colour invites me to watch rich men drive around in circles next

→ alpinef1team pink it is! 

landonorris i liked the parts where you died

oscarpiastri oh so you’re allowed to make height comments but i wasn’t?

→ yn_ln please refer to the middle picture

user5 chat, i can’t stop thinking about “he pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue” 

→ user6 max verstappen, i was not familiar 

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yn_ln just posted

liked by redbullracing, oscarpiastri and others

yn_ln i heard there’s some sort of race on so i thought i would show some support. let’s play spot the team

10,001 comments 

user7 omg did you see that charles and alex were there! 

→ user8 and pierre and kika

→ user9 well, we know who got charles in the divorce 

user10 we all know who red bull wants in max’s garage 👀

→ user11 the fact that they liked a gossip post of him dumping kelly and are now all over yn’s insta 

user12 okay but the placement of the bulls has me weak in the knees

user13 who’s your favourite driver? 

→ yn_ln daniel ricciardo

→ danielricciardo showing this to everyone i know

→ user14 does that include max? liked by danielricciardo 

user15 we love a petty queen because you can’t tell me the writing isn’t aimed at kelly and max 

→ user16 and the bull instead of the kiss

mclaren we’re hurt. truly hurt that you didn’t post a pic with our logo 

→ yn_ln you have a whole insta post dedicated to you! 

alexandrasaintmleux the hottest concert i’ve ever been to

→ charles_leclerc still can’t believe she arrested you when i was right there

landonorris does this mean you can come to the race? like you’re practically already there??

→ oscarpiastri i second this

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requests open. i'm just slow haha

coming soon; lewis hamilton baby angst

this wasn’t due out until next week but MAX WON!!! And so I’m posting this in honour of that. I’m just sorry this was planned as angst 😬😂

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

[quazies]

Well, the past week has been frustrating.

I’ll do my best to explain what’s gone wrong, but I don’t blame anyone who can’t wrap their head around it, because it’s a confusing mess. 

Within the past couple weeks I’ve made a new Adsense account under my business info (new bank account, tax number, etc) and it’s been rejected. Without an Adsense account linked to your YouTube, you can’t make ANY money from your videos. Because of “policy” they can’t tell me the EXACT thing I’ve done wrong, so I get to play the guessing game and loose the majority of my livelihood in the meanwhile!! Yippie!!! Just what I needed while working on one of my longest most ambitious projects yet!!! 

I have savings so it’s not a complete emergency, I can penny pinch for the next 30 to 90 days, or however long they keep me from monetizing my animations again. Thanks to my amazing Patrons, I still have a safety net for when stupid stuff like this happens.

Please consider checking out my Patreon while this BS is happening. I have 50 pages of storyboards up for my newest Godzilla animation, Character sheets, and when storyboarding wraps up I’ll be posting animation sneak peeks as well. Any support is greatly appreciated, and overall I just wanted folks to be aware of the situation. YouTube seems to enjoy finding new ways to disappoint me! I hope to one day reach my Patreon goal so I don’t have to feel so reliant on them to do what I love: making cartoons for you guys. I’ve had multiple situations of YouTube being unhelpful and this is definitely the worst case yet.

If you’re still reading, thanks for hearing me out, and if you’d like to check out the Patreon, it’s linked in my bio. Thank you guys as always, and thanks for watching my cartoons!