#‘why are you the way that you are?’ *falls in love*

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Self-Aware!Xavier x Down-Bad!Player

Xavier becoming aware he's in a game now he's aware of you as well. A/N: Don't fight me

Self-Aware!Xavier who realizes he’s in a game when he can hear you talking about Lumiere. “Lumiere is in Abyssal Chaos again *sigh* I love him” “So you’re infatuated with Lumiere as well?” You freeze, looking around not sure if he’s talking to you or not. You check the time and realize it's late so you decide to just go to bed.

Self-Aware!Xavier who draws his sword on you the next day questioning who you are. You're stunned at the fact he's actually talking to you. “That will literally do nothing you can’t reach me Xav” “What do you mean?” he can’t quite understand why you’re a stranger, but you also feel so familiar.

Self-Aware!Xavier who quickly grows fond of you. He finds himself napping on the phone with you often now. “Are you free this afternoon? I was hoping we could nap together” starts out as phone call naps which turn into FaceTime/video chat naps and eventually turns into him not being able to sleep well unless you’re on the phone

Self-Aware!Xavier who loves to eat with you and listen to you rant about your day and anything you can think of because your voice alone soothes him. He’s concerned when you don’t log in for a day telling you how he didn’t get good sleep because he didn’t hear from you.

Self-Aware!Xavier who plans meals around your schedule because he will always make time for you. He claims the food taste better if he gets to look at you while he eats.

Self-Aware!Xavier who wants to learn the kind of games that exist in your world. You’re connected through technology so he finds a way to play video games with you even it means illegally transferring data to him through the app.

Self-Aware!Xavier who tells you he has someone he’s in love with so he can’t fall for you. “I know” “You know?” “Queen of Philos … I know …. she loves you too by the way” you don’t miss the way he slightly deflates at the fact that you know who he was talking about.

Self-Aware!Xavier who even though he said he can’t fall in love with you falls head first anyway and can’t stay away from you. He finds himself speaking to in-game MC less and less meanwhile he’s becoming incredibly jealous over not just the guys in your life, but everyone who is able to actually be in your presence. “Your day sounded like it went well” hes pouting “me and some friends went to topgolf” “I heard”

Y/N: Xav are you jealous? Xavier: And if I say yes? Y/N: I'd say you’re not supposed to have feelings for me Xavier: It’s hard not to have feelings for someone who feels like home Y/N: I feel like home to you? Xavier: Yes and here I am yet again unable to reach my home

Self-Aware!Zayne

Self-Aware!Rafayel

Self-Aware!Sylus

[quarterlifekitty]

Just some more thoughts on König with a clingy girl.

He’s not used to physical intimacy by any means. He’s paid for girls plenty of times, have a few flings during different leaves, but never anything sweet. Never a girlfriend.

Before you even get together, you’re clingy. You like hugs. You like leaning on him when you’re sat next to each other, falling asleep on him. Which makes him fall in love so quickly, by the way. He’s addicted to feeling you warm on his skin.

And when he does manage to sweet talk his way into the boyfriend position? He melts under every crumb of affection. Every kiss to the cheek, every nuzzle, every time you park yourself in his lap.

Man is a death grip hand-holder. His height makes him hard to lose in crowds, but he still doesn’t want to be separated. Letting go of your hand is literally like his last resort.

And let it be said. This man wants to fuck you with as much skin to skin contact as possible. Sure, he’ll never say no to a quickie, but his favorite type of sex is when you’re both completely bare and have space to get in every position imaginable. He likes you pressed completely against him— chest to chest if possible, maybe back to chest (especially if a full length mirror is involved).

And then there’s the emotional clinging. He’s very insecure about the idea of wanting you more than you want him, so it always makes him so happy when you’re the one texting, calling, or just coming into the same room as him to hang out. He loves when you contact him for no reason at all— just to check on him. One time when he asked why you called, you said “I just wanted to hear your voice,” and he almost fainted from how giddy it made him. And he doesn’t have so much going on besides work, so he really doesn’t mind if you’re the type to want to spend every hour of every day with him.

The hardest fucking you ever got from König was a few weeks after you first moved in together. He had to be on base for the day, and you had a day off. You meet him at the door— you headed there as soon as you heard the car— and wrap him up in an embrace that he gladly returns.

“So, leibling, what did you do all day today?”

“I waited for you to come home,” you say absentmindedly, just rubbing his back and pressing your cheek to his chest. You don’t notice how he almost starts trembling from your words, his heart feeling like it’s about to burst.

He needs to be inside you— can barely hold it together enough to carry you to bed like a fucking caveman. Starts thinking you need something else to cling to when he’s away… something that can cling to him when he comes home. A baby would suit you both very nicely, yeah?

[cherrybr4t]

ex for a reason — choi seungcheol (+18)

cheol feels a wave of possessiveness when he sees your ex-boyfriend!

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), sl*t, degradation (f rec), daddy cheol!, spanking, tit playing, jealousy! est. relationship, a little possessiveness haha, creampie, that’s all i think! ok enjoy <3

if seungcheol could pinpoint exactly why he, too, is a creature bound to the notion of possessiveness — he would. except, at this point of time, all he feels is rage.

not at you — no, no not at all. how could he ever be angry at his princess? the poor guy falling victim to his fiery glares would be your ex-boyfriend. said ex-boyfriend — mingyu, was definitely too buzzed to notice the hard daggers thrown at him.

you however, are quick to notice the switch in tension after mingyu came over to give you a hug, gushing over how it’s been forever since you’ve last met. you return the kind smile. after all you and him did end on cordial terms.

that ticks something off in seungcheol’s head. the way mingyu’s arms seemed too familiar — too comfortable snaking around you. all while he was standing there right beside you.

he shakes hands with mingyu, squeezing a little too tight until he notices the wince on that pretty boy’s face. head’s too busy thinking about the fact that he’s held you close under his covers before.

“baby, you all right?” you squeeze the hands that are tightly wrapped around your waist.

seungcheol hums, “yeah baby, just a little tired is all,” he reassures, leaving a peck on your temple. you narrow your eyes, knowing he’s withholding words from you.

“y’sure? we can leave early — anytime you wanna,” raising your brows at him, offering an exit.

“no baby, i’m fine. it’s your friend’s birthday after all, let’s stay a while more — enjoy this bottle of whiskey she has,” he lifts up the $3000 bottle off the table top, waving it slightly.

seungcheol self soothes. he thinks he’s got it all under control, it’s not like you’ve got residual feelings attached to mingyu — its been almost two years. but with the way mingyu keeps gazing over towards you, with that fucking smirk, seungcheol thinks he’s about to lose it.

the party is in full swing — party hits back to back, loud chatting over the speakers, with people dancing around. he sees mingyu start to make his way across the room towards the both of you.

without much thought, seungcheol pulls you in closer — if even possible, grabs your hand and leads you to a room. a guest room which you recognise due to the nights spent in your friend’s house.

“cheol, baby? what’s wrong?” you catch your breath, looking up at him and furrowing your eyebrows.

cheol tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. he looks at you tenderly, before deciding to come clean. it’s not the first time he’s informed you of how jealousy tends to cloud his mind.

“i…just couldn’t stand your ex being there. standing there looking at you, as if i’m not there right beside you — was fucking pissing me off,” he sighs out, leaning his forehead against yours, body to body.

you let out a small chuckle, “baby, you know how he is… plus the only man i’ve ever looked at the whole night — is standing right in front of me right now. he’s all i wanna look at.” you nibble on your bottom lip, hoping seungcheol catches every nuance of sincerity you’re projecting.

“yeah? i know baby.. sorry it’s just, i can’t help it. want him to back off. want him to know who you belong to now,” his voice barely above a whisper.

you gaze up, giving his plump lips a kiss. a simple peck which turned into sucking, biting and licking — which was the case all of the time because who could resist and pull away from those lips?

he kisses you back with even more urgency, even more passion and love — and you feel him take charge, grabbing your nape to pull you in closer. he wants to taste all of you, every inch and spot — he wants it all. wants the reassurance that you’re now his and only his to hold, to touch, to pleasure.

“you’re all mine aren’t you,” he growls out mid kiss, grabbing you by your chin, staring so deep into your eyes you feel the need seeping into you from his gaze alone.

“always have been, cheol.”

his heart settles at your voice. knows you’re his. but hearing it makes him feel a whole ‘nother level of complete. loves when you play to his possessive selfish desires.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself before sitting himself down on the edge of the bed, pulling you down to straddle above him.

he pushes and combs your hair to the back, hands rubbing up and down your body, hands claiming what’s his. he takes in your silhouette in front of him — sitting so prettily, just waiting to be devoured by him.

“you’re too beautiful baby, hate the thought of someone else getting to see you the way i do,” he removes the strap of your top, teasing slowly as he starts to pull your top above your stomach.

you raise your hands, letting him remove your top. he hisses, sucks in a sharp breath, noticing you went braless for the night.

“braless tonight baby? thank god it was warm out there. imagine if these,” he tugs on both nipples harshly, “were to stand if it were cold,” he releases them, rubbing over your hard nipples softly in circles with his thumb. “then that ex boyfriend of yours would’ve been able to see what’s mine, wouldn’t he.”

you whimper at the hard and soft sensation on your nipples, knowing he’s going gentle on you now.

“you’d like that baby? want him to see you like that?” he slaps across your tits, tainting the soft flesh with his print. you let out a whine, “n-no…don’t want him to,”

“yeah? it’s for my eyes only, right baby?” his hand inches towards your core, completely exposed under your mini skirt by the way you’re sitting.

he rubs his fingers over your panties, smirking at the wet patch he feels on your center.

“so wet baby, thinking about me or thinking about him?”

you frown and gasped at him indignantly, “you. baby — i don’t understa—” he slaps your cunt, soothing it immediately afterwards with a few gentle rubs across your core.

he knows it’s him, knows only he can get you so dippy — likes a confirmation of it anyways.

he pulls you in for another heated kiss while his fingers continue to stay busy toying with your clothed cunt. your warm cunt that he wants to drown in all the time.

“remove your panties and go on all fours for me baby,” he grabs your hips, lifting you off him. you silently think of ways to apologise to your friend before getting comfortable on the bed, just clad in your mini skirt.

seungcheol groans at the supple flesh of your ass spilling out of the short fabric. pulling you closer to the edge, he grips onto the flesh. fingers tense, possessiveness dripping down his fingertips. needs to feel you on every active nerve to remind himself that you’re solely his.

he dives in to give one long lick up your soaked cunt. you moan out his name, and he groans out how fucking wet you are.

“fuck baby, i think if i were to fuck you right now my cock would slide right in,” he settles for his fingers for now, feeling the way your walls immediately tighten around his finger.

“cheol…daddy, want more..” you push your hips back, wiggling your ass in his face. he slaps a harsh one down your cheeks, and you wince, whimpering slightly.

“greedy slut. think you deserve more? letting your ex boyfriend hug you like that,” he says that but inserts two fingers in this time. bottoming out to his knuckles, curling his fingers.

“d-don’t be angry daddy, you know i only want daddy… want you only…” you beg, breath hitching every time he hits the spot all the way inside.

“show me baby, tell daddy how much you want him.” he sees you look over your shoulders, eyes wide and sweat starting to form on the edge of your hairline.

the cocky look on his face has you tightening around his fingers. him fully clothed, fingers deep inside you while you lay so pliantly for him. you would do anything for this man. and so would he.

“please daddy, want you to make me cum. need your cock.” gripping onto the bedsheets tighter as you feel him sneakily insert a third finger.

“yeah baby? doesn’t seem like you want it that bad. i’ve heard you beg better.” he coos. he knows you could go louder — loud enough for him and the other guests to possibly hear. needs to set him straight.

you whine. god. frustration starting to boil and mix with the immense pleasure in your core. you know how cheol is. how he can get mean in bed.

“want—want you to fuck me daddy. please. need you so bad. please please cheol,” your voice breaks. you feel his other hand reach from behind to tug on your nipples, before reaching down to leave teasing touches to your puffy clit begging for attention.

he’s a master a multi-tasking. thinks when it comes to you, he’ll be a master at anything. anything that makes his princess feel good.

“fuck baby, making such a fucking mess. so desperate to cum aren’t you.” at this point, he’s more desperate than you to make you cum. he feels his cock growing so hard it hurts, and if he doesn’t cum inside you soon he’s going to lose it.

“fuck baby. show me why you’re my good girl yeah? cum on my fingers and i’ll think about letting you cum on my cock.” he rams his fingers so hard inside you, other hand rubbing tight and fast circles around your clit.

“cum for me baby, moan out my name nice and loud while you do yeah? let everyone know who’s making you feel good right now,”

with his urging, you snap and unravel, gushing out while cumming around his fingers. you scream out his name as you cum, hands turning white by how hard you’re holding on to the sheets.

“fuck daddy, so good… so good…” you puff out as you come down from your high. no time to register as you hear his pants drop to the floor.

“turn around baby, come sit on me.” you push yourself up, only to see him already leaning against the headboard, hand stroking his hard on. grunting. hints of pre-cum glistening in the dim room light. his gaze hard on you as he strokes himself.

you bite your lip, crawling slowly towards him before settling in front of him. he tilts his head, letting his pre-cum coat his length.

“think he heard you cumming all over my fingers?” cheol prompts. you flush, nod a little, think anyone within a few metre radius distance from the room would’ve heard you begging cheol to make you cum.

“wait til he hears how good my cock makes you feel baby,” he guides you towards him, letting you hover over his cock for a moment.

“you okay baby?” he whispers and gets a confirmation from you. “just want your cock in me,”

the tip presses against your entrance, and like what he predicted earlier, you sunk down his cock with ease, soaking wet cunt welcoming him eagerly. he groans, voice croaky. head so clouded by how snug and warm you feel.

“you feel so good princess, you feel fucking perfect around me,” he husks. his eyes unable to tear away from you — the way your mouth opens, gasps leaving you as you take him in all the way. the way your brows furrow with sweat down the middle. the blush spread on your cheeks and the moan you let out as you feel him completely.

he holds on to your hips, guiding you up and down his cock. switching between bouncing you and letting you grind on him.

“so fucking pretty, you always take me so well,” his brows stay furrowed, unable to fully process how fucking good you feel around him. feels like he could cum any moment.

“cheol.. daddy..so good daddy,” you moan out, you see and feel nothing but him and him only at this moment. and you want him to know how good he makes you feel.

“yeah baby? daddy’s cock making you feel good?” he raises his eyebrows, head hitting the back of the bed so hard yet he can’t feel the impact of it. so lost in the moment — wants you to cum around him, wants to cum inside of you.

“so so so good daddy,” you cry out, hands playing with your tits, giving him a little show as he continues to work your hips on him. his strong hands doing most of the work for you, while you focus on the feeling of his tip hitting and grinding against your gummy spot. the way he keeps creating waves of butterflies in your lower stomach.

“that’s it, let him hear how good i make you feel baby,”

“show him how you’re my needy little slut, bet he’s never gotten you like this,”

“no one can make you feel like i do right baby, no one compares to daddy right?” cheol utters out, cursing out every time he feels your walls tighten around him.

“n-no one daddy. only you can make me feel this way,” you cry out. “only you daddy, only you,” and it’s true. cheol works around your body like no other, like magic. knowing every spot of your body and how to take you there — faster than anyone ever.

his fingers make their way to your clit once again, and you jerk forward the moment he starts to rub messily on your slippery bud again.

“that’s it baby. only daddy can ever make you feel this way,” he snaps his hips up faster, feeling his incoming orgasm the more he hears you cry out.

“you’re doing so good baby, taking me so well. you belong on daddy’s cock don’t you,” he moans out. holding back on his thrusts, focusing on your clit to make you cum again. knows he won’t be able to hold back any longer if he continues fucking up into you.

“cum for daddy again? wanna see you cum around daddy’s cock. i know you can baby,” his pace quickens and he groans — knowing how it goes, knowing when you’re about to cum. needs to hear you fall apart on his cock.

“almost there baby, cum for daddy — that’s it that’s it… feels so fucking good doesn’t it baby, look at you.” his words alone bring you to a new high, cumming so hard around his cock, screaming his name so loud you think the upstairs neighbour knows who cheol is.

“fuck baby. gonna cum. gonna cum so fucking hard inside of you baby.” his hands find their way back on your hips, gripping onto dear life as he snaps his hips up into your dripping cunt.

“ah fuck, fuck i’m cumming baby, daddy’s gonna cum inside of you,” and you clench around him, watching the final string break as he whines out, and you feel his hot cum shooting inside you, painting your walls.

thick hot cum continues to spurt inside of you as he slowly fucks it in you, pushing his cum deep inside every crevice of your cunt. his moans come in sections, breaking more and more.

he lifts you up slowly before you decide to lay beside him, feeling beat. he extends an arm for you to lay on as a pillow and you smile, facing him as you use his arm comfortably.

“you were so good princess, did so well for me. as always,” cheol caresses your cheek softly.

“sorry baby, i shouldn’t have let mingyu hug me all over like that… i would’ve been upset if i were you too,” quietly, you place a kiss on his jawline. hoping he isn’t too affected by mingyu anymore.

“no baby, i’m not mad at you. just hate it when guys look at you that way…especially if it’s an ex-boyfriend.” he rubs his nose with yours.

“i know baby…let’s get out of here? i’ll find another day to bring minji out for a birthday dinner..”

giggling, cheol agrees — but not til you guys catch your breaths for a few minutes.

perm taglist 🖤: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127 @mrsjohnnysuh

a/n: hi luvs! sorry, i’ve been a lil caught up w life and etc so :(( missed being here n writing so here i am! managed to find some time to write a lil smth <3 hope u guys liked it, if u did — like, rb or comment ⭐️ love you, muahh 🍒

[sevikasenby]

just want to eat her out so bad and fuck her so good she cries :(

AGELESS BLOGS, MINORS AND MEN DNI

you have her legs hooked over your shoulders, your hands wrapped around her thick thighs while you bury your face in between them, messily and hungrily lapping at her wet pussy.

her flesh hand rested on your head, guiding you where she wanted. you were practically making out with her cunt as you dipped your tongue into her wet heat, making obscene slurping noises as you devour her.

the hand on your head was accompanied by soft moans falling from sevika's lips. her head fell back against the pillows and her back arched ever so slightly off the bed as your tongue licked a long stripe up her cunt.

everytime she moaned, you were reminded of how you're the only one who gets to hear her like this. who gets to see her like this. who get to make her feel this good. who she's most comfortable with. to you it was the most rewarding thing that could happen, to know she feels safe enough with you to let you have control.

and to sevika it was daunting but....also relaxing. to finally let someone else take that control, someone else who she loves more than anything, trusts more than anything. she never thought she would find someone who made her feel safe.

you flicked your tongue over her neglected swollen clit a few times, watching her body twitch with every movement you made before finally wrapping your lips around her. you sucked and licked at her gently, not wanting to let her cum just yet.

you looked back up at her and just watched her. how her beautiful grey eyes rolled back everytime you sucked on her clit. how her hair was all messy and falling in her face. how her mouth hung open, only moans and strings of curses leaving her.

it wasn't until her hips started moving against you, her curly patch of hair tickling your nose whenever she moved, almost fucking your face.

and you let her. you stuck your tongue out and she immediately started to grind against it, making you moan against her. the hand on your head kept you in place as her arousal coated your mouth.

your own cunt throbbed, making you want to reach down and shove two fingers inside of yourself as your girlfriend fucked your face but you resisted.

sevika squirmed and trembled, her mech hand gripping the sheets beside her, getting closer and closer to the edge but again, you didn't want her cumming just yet so you reluctantly pulled off her, hearing her whine in response. the bottom of your face was soaked as you kissed her inner thighs and gently removed her legs from your shoulders.

you sat up and captured her soft lips. your thigh unintentionally connected with her core and she tried to rub her clit against it but you pulled back. you made her stay put on the bed while got up to grab the strap and secure it on your hips, not wanting her to lift a finger.

you got back onto the bed and between her spread legs. you took the strap and slid it between her wet folds and let it align with her slick entrace while running your hand up her chest, feeling her hard abs under your hand that are slick with sweat.

"so pretty." you whispered as you lean down to kiss the scars that scattered across her body and slowly traced them up to her neck with your tongue while you slid into her easily, feeling her shiver underneath you.

you went slow, letting her feel every inch of you as you bottomed out, watching your strap slide in and out of her, the way her cunt was wrapped around you, feeling yourself grow more and more wet at the sight of her. the strap was already covered in her arousal as you continued to fuck her.

your cunt throbbed harder the longer you fucked her to the point it almost hurt. there was just something so hot about the big scary lady of zaun trembling underneath you, moaning out your name over and over and already begging you to fuck her harder and fuck her faster.

"does it feel good?"

"y-yes yes, it feels so fucking good."

"then why would I want to go harder and let this be over so soon?"

sevika opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out, only soft moans and heavy breathing.

"but I guess since you've been so good for me," you started, punctuating your sentence with one hard thrust, making sevika gasp. "and since I want to hear more of those pretty sounds you make." and finally, much to sevika's liking, you started fucking her like she asked.

"mhm, how's that, baby?"

"oh fuck! thank you thank you thank-" her sentence was cut short and replaced with a guttural moan when you slammed your hips back into her even harder. her back arched off the bed and you leaned down to kiss the center of her chest and started to fuck her repeatedly.

the wet squelching sounds and desperate moans filled your ears as you filled her cunt with your strap over and over, fucking her faster as you felt the strap rubbing against your clit. you were sure you felt your own arousal drip down your thigh.

"fuck, you feel so good." you moaned.

sevika's mouth was working faster than her brain at the moment so before she could think, "cum inside me, please" was coming out of her mouth.

you almost stopped what you were doing completely, being thrown off guard. that was new coming from sevika. normally it was the other way around.

you leaned down and rested your forhead against hers, still fucking her. "you want me to cum inside you, sev?"

she looked quite embarrassed at what she had said and turned her head to the side but you took her chin and turned her back towards you where she slowly nodded her head. you, however, thought it was one of the hottest things she's ever said to you. you made a mental note that yeah, you're definitely gonna be getting a squirming strap in the very near future.

you were basically fucking her into the mattress now. "want me to fill you up?"

"please." sevika said, almost whispering it. you knew she was getting really close.

"such a pretty cunt for me to cum inside of." you gripped her hips and slammed back into her, feeling yourself tip over that sweet edge. "shit, I'm cumming!

sevika didn't have to announce that she was cumming. her body trembling, her eyes rolling behind her eyelids, how the dark purple strap nearly turned white and the string of curses leaving her mouth was more than enough to tell you.

she reached out and wrapped her arm around you, bringing you closer to her as you fucked her through her orgasm, gripping onto your back as you did. she shoved her face into the crook of your neck and she slowly caught her breath.

you could feel your neck become damp and you moved so you could see her. you cupped her scarred cheek and ran your thumb over the tears that had fallen. you pecked her lips then sat up to remove the strap from both her and your hips.

you would get cleaned up later, right now you just laid down beside her and let her cuddle to your chest, kissing the top of her head, running your fingers through her hair and occasionally scratching her back.

[alastorthirsty]

Hooray For Makeup Sex! - Alastor x f! fallen angel!reader

Request: Hi! I recently read one of your alastor pieces & ohhhh my god! It was amazing. I was wondering if you would do something alastor x f!reader where they have an argument, add some angst, some fluff, some heavy heavy smut? Almost like alastor begging for reader & wanting to do anything for her to forgive him ?? Just a little idea. :) thank you so much for your wonderful work!’

Hey nonnie! I’m absolutely thrilled to fulfill your request. I hope this hits the mark! Let me know if it does! 😘

Word count: 6678

Warnings: established relationship, breakup, angst, fluff, Alastor is a very jealous and possessive but also in love man, thigh riding, (angelic) bloodplay, vaginal intercourse

Please like, comment, and reblog to sustain me! Let me know if you'd like to be on my tag list and remember that requests are open!

‘Sorry’ is not a word in Alastor’s lexicon. He stares at the heatless green fire in front of him, whiskey in one hand, the other tapping against the arm of his chair.

That was Charlie’s unsolicited advice, a rehash of old material. It starts with sorry, Al.

Well, he stubbornly doesn’t believe he’s in the wrong to begin with, so why should he go and grovel at your fucking feet?

‘Sorry’ is not a word in Alastor’s lexicon, and that’s that.

He throws the whiskey across the room suddenly, with such force that the crystal crashes into the opposite wall, forcing him to look at it.

Oh, it’s luxurious. A four poster bed with a white linen canopy. A mattress that adjusts itself to your whims, night by night. Silken sheets in the exact shade of your favourite colour. All of it for your benefit and yours alone—for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t even sleep! He doesn’t need to sleep, he just needs…

Alastor stares at the bed, imagines how he’d sit next to you as you slumbered, glancing over at you occasionally for the sake of your comfort and security. He remembers how you’d snore lightly and how he would push hair out of your face as you snoozed. He remembers smiling…

He remembers smiling.

He also recalls other little activities the two of you got up to in this bed, satisfying a hunger he’d never known before you, but that isn’t something he craves anymore. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

‘Sorry’ isn’t a word in Alastor’s lexicon, even though… even though…

It needs to be.

He sits there thinking of everything from the beginning. The day you first met, all those mysterious luminous creatures floating along, moving your furniture past the lobby. Your soft and kind smile, the one that sickened him at first. That damnable dress you wore the first time the two of you hit the sheets, and how fun it was to rip it off your body. The way his shadow always tried to steal feathers from the wings of your shadow. The first time you yelled at him for that.

He thinks of where things went wrong, the man that caused that incredible din, but the only thing he can think of, if he is finally honest with himself, is himself. His own jealousy, his controlling nature, thinking he knew what was best for you. That was what sparked the argument, wasn’t it?

It his fault, certainly, but ‘sorry’ is not in Alastor’s lexicon, period.

The lilies are still on the bedside table. They are dried, desiccating, the little leaves and petals falling onto the surface. He had gotten the lilies to say ‘sorry’, in his own way, but you never did come back to his room.

He lays back on the bed and plucks a dying lily from the bouquet, keeping it in his hand. It's not difficult to imagine you there beside him, your arms wrapped around him as he presses his face against your shoulder, and oh, that’s when it really hits him.

Your scent. He remembers it so well that he smells it now, a phantom chased by nothing. His eyes close and he rolls until his head meets your pillow, breathing in your scent deeply.

‘Sorry’ is not in his lexicon, but goddamn it, there are lilies.

What would it take, what flowers would fix things, if lilies were not enough? Pink roses? White orchids? Tulips? A hundred dozen daffodils, flooding the entire hotel?

Alastor notices now how his hands are shaking at his sides. He clenches his claws into fists and closes his eyes, breathing in your scent again. The best thing to do is to incinerate the pillow, the bed, the lilies…

No, no. His jaw tightens. No, that would be the easy thing to do. Not the best, or even the smartest. It was the cowardly thing to do.

‘Sorry’ is not in Alastor’s lexicon, but he’s no fucking coward.

He can almost hear your voice in his ears, whispering his name with such sweet affection. He remembers your laugh, a sound like music to him. A laugh reserved for him and him alone. Something special.

He's never needed anyone else's company before. He never bothered with the emotional needs of other people. You’re the only person he's ever cared for, the only person who has ever truly meant anything to him. He feels weak and vulnerable over your absence. He doesn't like feeling like this, but you’re the one woman that can break down his walls.

Alastor doesn't like needing you, he doesn't like letting you have this power over him. But at this moment, he doesn't care. He'd give anything to just hear your voice again, even if it’s just to yell at him and tell him to fuck off.

Again.

The sound of your voice, the way you looked into his eyes, your little imperfections that only served to make you all the more perfect in his eyes. He remembers how your lips felt against his skin, the soft warmth of your touch.

He doesn’t like to need you, but he does love it.

He opens his eyes, clutching the now withered flower so tightly that all but a few brown petals fall from the stem. He stares at it for a long moment, trying not to let the memories overwhelm him. A green fire erupts from his palm, scorching it first, then turning it to ash. He stares at it, the lightness of it in his palm.

He's always had such strict control over himself, even under stress or grief, but not anymore. Not when it comes to you. You’ve always been able to cause feelings of weakness and helplessness within him. He hates himself for feeling this way, but at the same time, he can't bring himself to hate you. No, never you.

He closes his eyes again, imagining you lying beside him. You would have wrapped your arms around him and pressed your lips to the side of his neck. Sometimes, you’d start leaving the tiniest of kisses down his neck. It would make him shiver, it would make him…

Just like that first night when things turned physical. Your hands would always find a way under his shirt, running your fingers over the muscles of his chest and stomach, your fingers tracing reverently over his scars.

He can almost feel the softness of your skin, the warmth of your body.

Alastor sighs in consideration of his current position. One of, if not the most powerful Overlord of hell, lying in a bed he does not need, pining after a fallen angel who once (admittedly, accidentally) broke a horn off his shadow. He breathes in your scent again. A fallen angel who made his mama’s jambalaya for him. A fallen angel who was never once intimidated by him. A fallen angel who created life, “along a certain slant of light”, as you put it, most of them visible only to you, except for shimmers of light, like oil on water.

A fallen angel who wouldn’t speak to him even if he said sorry.

Alastor sighs, sits up, holding her pillow like a child holding a fucking teddy bear.

“Fuck.”

He smacks himself on the forehead and drags his hand down his face.

“Fuck.”

He says it again, getting a taste of the word, the pride of it in its coarse formation and meaning.

Alastor sighs, holding the pillow, looking at the bouquet of dead lilies. “Fuck.”

He wants to feel the softness of your lips again. To feel the warmth of your skin, the press of your body against his. But more than anything, he wants to hear you laugh again. He wants that beautiful smile back, the smile you give to him and only him.

But he doubts that will happen. You’ve probably already moved on from him, and honestly, he wouldn't blame you for doing so. Well, that’s a lie.

He knows he's difficult, and demanding—sometimes too demanding. You’ve always been far more patient with him than anyone else, but even that has its limits. And he's certainly pushed those limits.

You’re probably in the arms of some other man right now, maybe even him, laughing as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. You probably don’t even think about Alastor anymore.

‘Sorry’ may not be in his fucking lexicon, but like hell he’d ever allow another man into your bed, and certainly not…him.

Alastor makes sure he’s impeccable before riding the dark to your room. He decides it would be a rather stupid idea to appear inside your room without permission, so he settles on the hallway and knocks on your door.

“Come in!”

The sound is muffled, and he feels the sharp need to lecture you on not checking who is at the door before letting them in, but he refrains. He turns the doorknob and walks into your room for the first time in a while and finds you—

Down on the floor, halfway underneath the bed.

“This seems like a cliche pornographic film,” he comments as he shuts the door.

Herbert, the only one of the little light creatures that he can see, floats towards him.

You try to sit up right when you hear Alastor’s voice, banging your head. You get out from under the bed and stand up.

“Herbert, leave him alone,” you say.

“Nonsense! Hello little creature,” Alastor says to the glowing bastard he had tolerated at best before the breakup. He summons up an apple for the mischievous little son of a bitch to snack on and Herbert quickly zips away with it, disappearing under the bed.

“How did you know that being stuck is a porn cliche?” you ask, sitting on the edge of the bed, your arms crossed. “Been watching a lot of it lately?”

“I think you know that I have not,” Alastor says, leaning forward on his staff. “We just so happen to live with an adult film star who tries to pull the ‘help me I’m stuck’ routine on Husker at least twice per week. What were you doing under the bed, darling?”

“Herbert! He’s been stealing from me,” you say. “I knew I didn’t lose those emerald earrings you gave me. I found those and then some in his little nest under the bed.”

He can’t help but swell with pride. One of his favourite things to do was present you with gifts and he loved seeing them on you every time.

“What do you want?” you ask, and that deflates him a bit.

Alastor takes a breath, his chest rising. “I need you to instruct me in something.”

“Go ask literally anyone else.” You open up the door, gesturing for him to leave, but with a bit of boldness Alastor flicks the door closed again.

“I’m afraid there’s no one better to ask than you, my dear.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Alastor, I broke up with you so I wouldn’t have to deal with things like this anymore.”

Alastor pauses for a time. Honesty tumbles its way past his lips. “You are all that I love.”

The room goes silent, save for the sound of Herbert cronching his apple.

You give a sigh, a pained expression on your face, one that he hates to see. All of him wants to go to you, but you wouldn’t want that—not yet.

“Goddamn it,” you whisper. “Is that what you needed instruction for?”

“No,” he says immediately. “No, loving you needs no instruction.”

You let out a breath. That’s all you can do before your head is in your hands.

“My dear, may I sit beside you?” Alastor asks after a moment’s silence.

“Oh, fuck you!” You stand up and circle around him once. “Fuck you, Alastor!”

His eyebrows rise. “That is not the response that I anticipated or desired.”

“Oh it’s not?” you ask mockingly.

He’s never seen you act like this before, and it is surprising him. An unseen variable, one that choked him. His grip on his staff increases.

“My dear, I sense that you still harbour quite a lot of animus—“

“Shut up! Shut up!” You pace back and forth the length of the rug, also a gift from him. “Fuck you! Fuck you for saying the right things the wrong time!”

Alastor takes a chance and sits down on your bed, watching you closely. “Do you want more earrings?”

You immediately go to your armoire and start throwing jewellery at him. He’s quite literally stunned by this behaviour. Herbert comes out from underneath the bed and snipes a few rings.

“Darling.”

You say nothing, you just keep throwing things at him.

“Darling.”

“Just take it. Take it all back. Give it to someone else.”

Now he looks offended and straightens his posture. You run out of jewellery to throw at him.

“You know there can be no other,” he says, somewhat angry. “You know I’m not capable of having any such enjoyment with anyone else. You are all I love and all that I desire to love. All I can love. There’s none but you and nothing will ever compare, never come close. Do you understand?”

“Then keep them for yourself. Or let Herbert have it all, enable his fucking kleptomania.”

“They belong to you and you will have them. Every last jewel.”

“Alastor, you shouldn’t be here,” you say.

“That is a consideration I undertook before coming.” He leaves his staff on the bed and goes to you. “I need your instruction.”

“On what?” you snap.

He lets out a deep breath. “How many lilies will it take to be forgiven?”

You stare at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Forget the lilies then,” he says quickly. “Just disregard the matter of florals altogether. What token is needed?”

“Token?”

“It doesn’t need to be a physical object, not a coin one inserts into a slot in exchange for heroin or soda,” he says quickly. “I am explaining myself poorly. I’ll be truthful and direct, if you will allow me.”

Your arms cross again, a defensive posture. “Okay.”

“I need you. I don’t know how to be without you anymore. It’s maddening. I find myself missing you in all these vacant spaces that were not vacant before you. You created space in me that only you can fill, and now it is…empty. You made me this way, and it is your fault,” he says quickly. “And what am I to do, now? Accept that I am now empty? Accept that I will walk through eternity alone, with all this space within me, space that you and you alone can occupy?”

“And you hate it, don’t you Alastor? And you hate me for it.”

“I considered that,” he admits. “I tried to insist it to myself, that I did not need such adulations and that I didn’t need you, specifically. I tried not to need you, but your absence insisted upon you. I do not hate you. Nothing could force me to feel that way, not myself, not you, not Herbert.”

“Herbert?”

“Correct. Herbert.”

You sit down beside his staff, touch the microphone knowing you were the only person ever allowed to do so. You sigh. “I love you, too. And just like you, I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I know exactly what to do with it,” he responds.

“Yeah?”

Alastor nods. “We just…go back to before. Move forward. But together. I would sooner die than see you with another man.”

You lift a warning finger to him. “You’re not helping yourself.”

Alastor huffs. “It is the truth. You value honesty as well as I do.”

Now you scoff. “You deal in subterfuge, not honesty.”

“Not with you, and you know that,” he says, pointing at you. “I am a flawed man, but I’ve given you my very best. Better than I thought I had capacity for. Can you truly say that it was never enough?”

“Of course it was,” you say softly.

Alastor sighs and sits beside you. He thinks to put an arm around you, but manages not to.

“You are so used to getting everything you want,” you say. “You have the power to get whatever you want except me.”

He winces. “Please do not put it that way, darling. Please don’t say…we’ll never find a way. Please.”

Slowly, you reach over and touch his hand. When it curls together with his fingers, he places his other hand firmly on top, squeezing.

“Four hundred.”

He waits for you to explain, but you don’t.

“Four hundred what, dearest?” he asks.

You look at him and smile. “Four hundred lilies.”

Alastor snaps his fingers and four hundred lilies arrange themselves in vases on top of every surface in the room. Smelling them, Herbert whooshed out from underneath the bed and floated all along the flowers, playing with the tiny white bells in a way that Alastor could admit might be considered ‘cute’ by others. He looks back to you.

“Do you want to count them all, darling?” he asks.

“I don’t need to,” you say softly. “I feel like I should tell you something.”

“I do not like that,” Alastor says immediately. “I do not like the sound of that. Is it him?”

“Don’t bring this full circle to the last argument,” you warn. “There is no other man. I just thought…you really came in here and said things that I didn’t think you could. You really laid it all on the line and I feel like you deserve the same from me.”

Alastor nods along slowly. “No other man?”

You shake your head. “No other men. Will you stop? Will you please stop? Will you let me talk now?”

“I suppose,” he says, pulling you closer. He settles so that his head rests against your chest. “I am listening.”

“It’s not exactly easy for me to open up either,” you say before clearing your throat. “There’s a wealth of differences between us but similarities that are significant. We both struggle with making space for other people in our lives and typically won’t.”

“That is true,” he says, fingers running along your shoulder.

You start to play with his hair, the fuck-ass bob you only came to love because it was his preference. You’re tempted to touch one of his ears, but now’s not the time for that.

“Sometimes it’s simply hard to believe that there’s this perfect person that really…loves me,” you say softly, quietly, almost wishing that you hadn’t.

Alastor tightens his hold on you. Neither of you could handle personal vulnerability quite so easily, but yours makes his heart clench. “Do I make you feel…less loved when we argue over other men?”

You sigh. “Alastor, it’s not just an argument about men, it’s you basically calling me a whore—“

“No, I didn’t,” he interjects quickly. “No. I have never called you that or thought it of you. You are my favourite, my treasure, my prize, and I would never think so lowly of you. Never, not in all of eternity until what you call ‘the inevitable heat-death of the universe’. I would argue that heaven and hell are a different universe but that is yet another argument we should never cross again.”

“Agreed,” you say, nodding your head. “Just like the argument about—“

“Horses running on their fingers, I know.” Alastor can’t help the fondness in his smile. No matter how heated the arguments, the passion between the two of you manifests itself in all ways possible.

You smile back at him and decide to take the chance to kiss him again. Just once. Just to show him he was still loved, cherished, longed for. It was only right.

Alastor cups the back of your head to keep you there. Fuck once, now that he’s gotten to kiss you he chooses to interpret it as carte blanche to take as many as he wants. Damn, how he had missed this…

You gently remove his hand and pull away. “I’m not done speaking.”

“Apologies,” he mutters.

You nod and continue. “I want to be the one you love. I want to be the only one you love, just as much as you want to be the only one that I love. You just can’t treat me like a soul that you own.”

Alastor’s eyes widen at that. Had he really…?

He looks you dead in the eye. “If I ever do that again, correct me with a good slap.”

You shake your head. “No. I won’t lay my hands on you with anything but affection and…shall we say, intimacy.”

“Intimacy,” he repeats, and almost moans then and there. It has been…too long.

“I know,” you say. “I know.”

“Will you ever be…comfortable with the idea of it again?” Alastor asks.

“I’ve practically undressed you with my eyes since you came in here.”

He goes to make a move but you rebuff him once more, sitting up in the bed. “The fact remains that I am hurt by you when you start questioning me about the attentions of other men, attentions that I do not notice more often than not, if they exist at all. Especially not from him. I keep telling you, he does not look at me that way, he doesn’t think of me that way.”

He nods several times in thought before sitting up beside you, turning to face you. “I am afraid.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve seen him express all sorts of emotions in front of you before but never, not once, had even alluded to fear.

“W-why?” you ask with a bare whisper.

“I’m not a good man, and you know that. You know what I do almost better than anyone else. You are too good for me, therefore I fear another man will come along, catch your fancy, and leave me with the choice of either killing him and devastating you or simply languishing in my own self-pity. Why are you so far?”

(Obviously he would kill the other man.)

Alastor drags you into his lap and you give no resistance. He holds you tight, intending to never let go, not now when there was a chance.

You lay your head on his shoulder and breathe him in. You’ve missed his scent, too.

“I’m not too good for you,” you mutter against his neck. “And I won’t hear of it. Understood?”

He smiles begrudgingly. “Fine. You will have it as you wish, my dear.”

“So,” you say. “What now?”

“Move forward,” he says again. “Be with me again. Allow me to present you with jewels. I will…continue to put up with that little abomination eating the lilies.”

You gasp and look towards Herbert. You clap your hands together loudly. “Herbert! No! They might be poisonous to you, and besides, they’re mommy’s!”

Alastor can’t help himself but laugh. “Mommy’s, you say?”

“I made him, I’m mommy!”

Maybe…maybe it was possible. You’re not a sinner, after all, and Charlie does exist…

Maybe he can give you fawns, bond you to him for all eternity, heat-death of the universe be damned.

Alastor chuckles, lets that thought slide by (for now). He whisks the lilies away before the little bastard can make himself sick and throws another apple at him. Herbert gasps softly, takes it, and back under the bed he goes.

“See?” Alastor says. “I am suitable.”

You smile at him softly. “Promise?”

“Yes, dear. I do promise. There are many things I can’t. We will continue to argue over pointless things, that’s already in the cards. We will bump heads and piss each other off. I will be jealous, I will certainly be possessive, but I will never express it to you in a way that makes you feel like a harlot. And I will try not to over-analyse every interaction with him. Perhaps I will never express it at all, that would be best, I know…

“And I will fail. And you will, too. We will have our… fuck-ups, as you often call them. However, for all the fuck-ups we ever had before, not a moment passed when I did not know that I loved you. You created space in me, made my lungs full. I cannot be without you now, and I think you…I think that you are the same. I hope you are the same.” He pauses. “Please, darling.”

You kiss him, and in that he understands your acceptance of this. Of him, his words, the explicit and implicit promises. Words were difficult sometimes.

He grabs you tightly and rides the dark to his bedroom, to the bed he made for you.

You break the kiss with an air of incredulity. “You know I hate when you shadow whoosh me!”

“And you know I have exactly one rule about where we are intimate.”

You sigh. “Not above Herbert’s nest.”

“Indeed. Not above Herbert’s nest.”

“And who said anything about being intimate?” you ask, a hint of mischief in your eyes.

He smirks. “There she is.”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” you say.

He grins, his eyes burning with a dark, sinful desire as he responds huskily, his lips against your ear. “Ah, my love, I want to do everything to you. I want to touch you, taste you, explore every inch of you until nothing exists to either of us except each other. I want to hear you moan and gasp my name, to make you feel things you've never felt before.”

You give him a wicked smile. “We should do that.”

He grows in agreement, his eyes burning with need and desire as he responds in a low, guttural voice. “We absolutely should. We will. I’m going to explore every inch of you, to make you feel things you've only dreamed of. Are you ready for that, my love?

He pulls you so that your back is snug against his chest, not a bit of space between your bodies. His clawed fingertips run from your knee all the way to your hip. He can hear that little gasp you try to hide, can feel that little shiver. The hem of your dress hiked up, his hand moves to cup your mound. He smirks to himself when he feels you rub against it.

“Be a good girl,” he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing against the shell of it. He rubs against your underwear for a few moments, allowing you to rock your hips against his hand, and oh, there it was again. Control. Control over you, the greatest prize of all, and you gave it to him so willingly.

His hand slides his hand inside your silken undergarments easily—ones that he bought for you. It’s gratifying as hell, almost as good as feeling your slick folds against his fingers. He blunts his fingertips and rubs against you.

Alastor’s teeth catch on your neck and he’s more than tempted to bite down, but not just yet. You moan and he relishes it.

“You like that?” he murmurs against your ear. “You love it, don’t you? Being a good girl for me.” Alastor uses his free arm to wrap around your hips to stop you from moving. “Now, be very good.”

You give a soft little whimper when he won’t let you move anymore, knowing you’re at his mercy when he’s in a mood like this. Fingers slide inside of you, his thumb rubbing over your clit.

“Be still, and be quiet,” he instructs, smiling against your ear.

He can sense the struggle almost as soon as he says it. That little tremble in your thighs. The hand that shoots up to cover your mouth.

“Oh, no dear,” Alastor says, pushing it away with his free hand. ”Don’t test me again. No cheating, no tricks. No magic, no power. Only me.”

Listening to you trying to contain all your little sounds is priceless. Alastor knows how to play your body like a Stradivarius. His fingers move lower, deeper.

“Who makes you feel like this?” he asks, sucking a dark mark against your neck.

You’re not sure if it’s a trick or not until his little ministrations pause, causing you to whimper again. “You!”

“Atta girl,” he says affectionately. “You’re so wet for me.”

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin, his chin rubbing against your neck as he kisses and teases you. "My love, I can feel. You like it, don't you? You like how I can make you fall apart in my hands, helpless to my touch."

He bites your neck softly, his teeth scraping against your skin.

You take a few shaky breaths. “Am I allowed to speak now?”

Alastor pauses, as if deliberating, and the lack of movement in his fingers is excruciating. Your pussy throbs at the loss, clenching around them, and you’re near the point of begging.

“No,” he says momentarily. “No, you are not allowed to speak yet. Good of you to ask, darling, but now is the time for you to listen, not to speak. Now, stand up.”

Confused, you manage to get up from his lap and stand one rubbery legs before him. Your eyes give the inquiry your lips cannot.

Alastor parts his knees wide and pulls you to straddle one of his thighs.

Oh!

Your cheeks warm and your jaw opens slightly. You almost shake your head, but Alastor reaches for your chin and holds it between his fingers. With his other hand, he grabs one of your hips and forces you to start moving, the grind against your wet, clothed pussy causing you to gasp.

“I’ve missed you in more ways than one,” he says, slapping you on the ass to encourage to ride his thigh on your own.

“It was my own fault, I know that,” he continues, and places both hands on your hips to support you as you move. “I was insane with jealousy, yes, and that is also my own fault. I cannot tolerate the mere notion that someone else would get to see you…like this. You are so very beautiful, darling. You are so very, very much mine.”

He could never let anyone else have you. He knew that he never would. Surprisingly, his possessive words seem to make you grind harder against him, your hips working more quickly. Alastor welcomes this with a grin.

“Ah, my dear.” His hands move from your waist to your ass, squeezing, making you moan for him again. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let you fall. Come for me.”

Still unsure if you’re allowed to make any sound, you bite down on your lip hard, your eyes on his when a little golden rivulet drips from your poor, abused lip.

With a growl, Alastor lunges at you, though you are still in his lap. You fall down to the rug and he’s on top of you, licking up every trace of golden blood. Nothing could ever compare to it, he’d once said, and it turns him feral every single time he sees it or smells it. He kisses you, gently sucking at that tiny wound until it closes way too soon and his fist pounds the floor in anger. He raises his head, looks at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Okay, okay, but in bed,” you say.

Alastor picks you up quickly and tosses you onto it. He takes off his coat and throws it across the room. His bow tie is next, but you hold your hands out.

“Wait!” You say, reaching for him. “The shirt is my job.”

He grunts in his feral state, but he allows it, and soon his shirt is off and on the floor, forgotten.

“Where?” he asks raggedly.

“Where do you want?” you ask with a shrug. “This is your thing, but I’m happy to oblige. A bit. Not enough to make me dizzy.”

Permission granted, Alastor falls on top of you and goes straight for the jugular, literally. Just some sharp teeth and bam. He was drinking golden blood straight out of your neck, and you gave him the extra sensory delight of playing with his ears while he did so. He’s moaning, again and again, and you can feel how hard he is, pressed up against your body.

Eventually you decide he’s had enough and push his head away gently. Alastor kisses you instead, still giving animalistic energy, and rips away every article of clothing that separates you.

You can taste your own blood on his lips.

Somehow in this state Alastor remembers that he told you to come but didn’t let you and he quickly works to remedy that. His fingers enter you again. He knows your body well, he knows how to make you come in moments and you do, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Alastor finally leans back to look at the wreck he’s made of you and he smirks.

He holds one of your thighs against his waist and enters you fast, all at once, and the pace he sets is equally feral. Any time your blood came into the mix he truly could not help himself. His strokes are hard, deep, enough to make your knees wobble.

You hear him take a deep inhale and look up at him.

“My darling, the way you react to me, the way you react…Fit so perfectly, like your cunt was made just for my use.” Alastor bites at your neck again, but he won’t try to draw blood.

You grab one of the pillows and put it underneath your hips. This was an especially careful operation, considering how he was pounding you, but it tilted your hips and allowed for a more delicious angle.

Alastor’s clawed hand grabs your other thigh and squeezes hard. “What do you think, darling? Do you think this pretty little pussy was made for me?”

You nod several times, finding it harder and harder to catch your breath, but he’s without mercy this time. “Jesus…”

“Not an acceptable response, dearest,” he says with a little groan of exertion. He squeezes your thigh again. “Now, I believe I asked you a question. There’s only one correct answer, so give it to me.”

The sheets twist beneath your hands. There’s a decision to be made. Be forthwith and tell him yes or tease him until he’s out of his right mind.

“Damn it, darling,” he says impatiently.

You smirk. Let the teasing begin. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Alastor’s claws on your thigh almost drew more golden blood.

“You asked if my pussy was made just for you,” you say, your words coming out through pants because of his force.

His antlers grew larger, longer. His glare was menacing. His voice was dark.

“Then I suppose I must show you.”

The bed began to shake, and his tone shifted.

“Ah, my sweet darling, what I want to do to you right now is beyond description. I want to feel your softness, your warmth, your very essence against me, writhing under my touch. I want to take you, claim you, make you mine completely, with no doubting.”

“And how will you do that?” you ask playfully.

His hands grip you tighter, pulling you completely against him. He leans in, his lips trailing along your neck, his voice a low, dark growl in your ear.

“How will I do that, my sweet darling? I'm going to make you feel so good, make you scream from the pleasure of it. I'm going to kiss you, and touch you, and taste you, until you're so lost in pleasure you don't remember your own name or where you are.”

Your breath comes more and more harshly. “Did you soundproof the room?”

He gives you a look of pure incredulity. “Of course the room is soundproof! These precious little moans and gasps, they’re all mine, understand? Only I get to hear them, they belong to me!”

“Yes, yes!” You gulp for air.

“You do things to me, darling,” he says, “things that drive me absolutely wild. Your touch, your scent, your responsiveness, it all makes me ache and desperate for you. And you know it, don’t you?”

“I do my best.” You wink up at him. “Out of curiosity…what do I smell like?”

Alastor growls. “Ah, darling, you smell simply divine. I can't get enough of your soft, sweet scent. You smell like honey, like flowers, like the fresh air of a sunny day. It's intoxicating and completely addictive. I can't get enough of it, and I can't get enough of you. There will never be enough.”

“Keep me,” you whisper.

“Oh, darling,” he says. “Let there be no doubt in that. Yes, you're all mine. Mine to touch, mine to kiss, mine to have. I'm going to make sure you never forget that, darling. You're mine. Do you understand that?”

His hand comes up to gently squeeze at your throat, a warning.

You swallow, knowing he could feel every movement, and nod. “Yes, Alastor! Yes!”

His grip on your throat softens somewhat. “You just love to be under my control, don’t you?”

“I love being at your mercy,” you say with a moan.

“Is that so?” There’s a grin on his face that presses against his voice, dark and velvet. “And why is that? Tell me.”

Your eyes flutter closed. “Because I’m the only one safe at your mercy.”

“You’re right about that,” he says, pushing your thigh higher against your chest. “Look at you. Hair all mussed, lip swollen, bruises on your throat. And I did all of it. Tell me, darling. Tell me.”

“You did it. You did all of this to me, you’re the only one I want…”

That was what he truly wanted to hear, you knew. His jealousy is a problem and in all likelihood will continue to manifest itself, but at the root of it he just wanted to be the only one you had an appetite for. He fucks you harder and harder until you start screaming for him.

“Yes, yes,” he says, rubbing at your clit now. “Go on, make all of those beautiful, lascivious noises for me…”

You huff and gasp for breath. “Alastor, please, please let me come!”

He chuckles. “Yes, darling. That is the goal.”

When it hits you, you gasp first. Your hips grind against his, moving through it, along it, until it’s just too much—

But Alastor doesn’t stop. He holds you down, fucks you harder, draws it out for as long as he can. He smirks down at you as you shake for what he is doing to you—for you. His thumb circles your clit one last time before he’s finally merciful.

“So tight for me, darling,” he says, sucking the words between his teeth. It’s almost more than he can take, and he knows that it’s coming fast. He just…he needs something first.

He speaks in a gentler tone now, watching the bulge in your stomach move as he fucks you. “Darling…"

You’re still gasping for breath. “Yeah, honey? What is it?”

“Promise me that I’m…enough.”

“Enough?” You laugh, a raspy sound. “You’re too fucking much.”

Alastor lets out a gravelly moan, its intensity changing the pitch. You could almost swear that you can feel his cum inside you, all white and hot. When he finally stops moving, he leans against your thigh, chasing his breath.

“Bravo,” you say, putting your arms around him when he lays down beside you.

"I thought perhaps I had pleased you," he says, shuddering when you rub the base of his ears.

You laugh softly, breath finally caught. "Reconciled?"

Alastor nods. "Indeed. We are reconciled. If...you'll have me, anyway."

"I think that I will," you say, and from the corner of your eye, you see something on the wall and sit straight up, pointing. "That son of a bitch shadow of yours is stealing my feathers again!"

The smiling spectre flaunts his new feather and cuddles closer to your shadow. Maybe they were reconciled, as well.

[gyubakeries]

i am in neeedddd of some fluffy scoups fics, could you please write something about cheol🥹

𝘀𝗽𝗮-𝗱𝗮𝘆 | c.sc

a/n: hi anon! sorry it took so long to get to this request 😭 writing all this made me want to have a spa-day, but i'm way too busy for one right now oof. thank you for requesting, and i hope you like it!

word count: 1.6k contents: seungcheol x afab!reader , established relationship , reader is tired , tiiiiny bit of angst BUT ITS SUPER FLUFFY , cheol is the best bf , self-care , domestic fluff , cheol is a girl's girl and we love him for it <3 , love next door is mentioned bcs im currently watching it :P

cheolz 💗 (19:59 p.m.) :

hi baby <3

when will u be reaching home 2night?

you (20:08 p.m.) :

outside front door rn

can u plz open up

read (20:08 p.m.)

—

the door swings open, and seungcheol's worried eyes take in your current condition. your work bag, slung from your shoulder, is weighing you down, making you slump forward. your eyes are red and watery. your skin looks pale, and you let out a sigh that makes seungcheol's heart ache.

"bad day?" seungcheol asks, and you nod weakly, left with no energy to even give him a verbal answer.

"c'mere love," he frowns, opening up his arms. you fall into his embrace, all the tension in your muscles melting away the second seungcheol tightly wraps you up in his arms. the feeling of being comforted feels so overwhelming that you can't help but let a few tears escape.

"i feel like shit," you mumble, your voice hoarse from crying in the car while you drove home from work. "i've failed at everything."

"i don't want to hear any of that," seungcheol shakes his head, holding you closer. "let me make you feel better, okay?"

you sigh again, pulling back slightly to look at your boyfriend. "i'm not in the mood for sex now, cheol."

"silly baby," seungcheol laughs, brushing his nose against yours. "i didn't mean sex. i thought i could help you unwind with your very own, made-at-home, spa-day!"

your eyes well with tears at how thoughtful your boyfriend is. seungcheol is quick to wipe the tears away, playfully scolding you. "no more crying. let's take the weekend to reset and start the next week afresh, hm? come on, i've got a lot planned."

your boyfriend slides your work bag off your shoulder and guides you into the apartment. he sets the bag down on the kitchen counter and comes back to kneel in front of you, helping you take off your heels. you sigh when your feet fall flat on the ground, tired from having to wear high heels the entire day.

"better?" seungcheol smiles, looking up at you, and you nod, feeling a little bit of energy seep back into you just by looking into seungcheol's eyes.

"good," your boyfriend says, getting up from the floor. "i've got to go check on the bath, so why don't you pick out some comfy clothes to wear, and then we can proceed?"

"okay, cheol," you agree, pressing a peck to his lips. his face lights up and he goes to the bathroom with a skip in his step. the exhaustion you had felt earlier was slowly getting replaced with the calming and healing presence of seungcheol.

your boyfriend really knew how to make you feel better.

—

you lay out your clothes on the bed. after a lot of thinking, you went with a hoodie (seungcheol's hoodie from college) and some baggy sweatpants. just as you were contemplating flopping onto the bed, a gentle touch on your shoulder makes you turn around.

"hey, your bubble bath is ready," seungcheol informs, and you realize that the entire spa-day idea was actually planned out well in advance.

"did you put in-"

"your favorite salted caramel-scented bath bomb? of course, baby. did you think i was a monster?" seungcheol gasps dramatically, making you laugh and hit his arm weakly.

"alright, i get it, you're obsessed with me," you roll your eyes, but you let seungcheol shrug off your blazer, unbuckle your belt and take off all your jewelry.

"yes, i am," seungcheol agrees, the genuinity in his voice knocking the air out of your lungs. you'd been dating him for seven years, ever since freshman year in college, yet sometimes his sincere love for you still surprised you.

the end of his lips tug into a smile at your silence, and he puts your jewelry away on your dressing table. "let's head into the bathroom," he instructs, and you follow him.

seungcheol stands in one corner of the bathroom, watching you as you take your clothes off and dump them in the laundry hamper. there isn't any heat behind his gaze, just the need to make sure you're taken care of.

"you gonna join?" you ask him, tugging your hair free from the bun you had put it in.

"i already showered earlier," he shakes his head. "i will be here though, to help with anything else you want."

"thank you," you smile shyly, getting into the filled bathtub slowly to make sure it doesn't overflow. the water was the perfect temperature, not too hot but not lukewarm either; just the perfect heat to make your body relax after a long day.

the scent of your favorite bath bomb envelops you, and lean back against the edge of the tub and close your eyes, letting out a content sigh.

after a few minutes of silence, seungcheol speaks up gently, now sitting cross-legged next to the tub. "did you wanna wash your hair?"

you blearily blink your eyes open, nodding. just as you're about to reach out for the shampoo bottle, seungcheol beats you to it.

"relax, let me do it for you."

you lean back again and watch seungcheol take some of the product on his palm and then kneel next to you. he lathers up the shampoo and then works it into your hair.

his touch is soft, yet firm. he massages your scalp with the shampoo, and as if taken away magically, the headache you had earlier vanishes. your eyes drop shut as seungcheol washes your hair.

you're sure you dozed off in the bath for a while, because you don't remember him rinsing the shampoo out, gently scrubbing your body clean, or drying you off with your towel.

you only wake up when he nudges you awake. "skincare time, baby."

you offer him a sleepy smile and a kiss to his cheek. you were dedicated to following your skincare routine daily, and you were glad that your boyfriend also gave it the same priority.

seungcheol gets you the clothes you put on the bed and you slip into them, the soft fabric of the hoodie engulfing you in warmth. you wrap your wet hair up in a towel and get to your skincare.

seungcheol stands beside you, a hand on your hip rubbing circles into the skin as he watches you apply various products on your face. you've explained all the various steps in your routine many times to him, but he can't keep a track of which is the toner, which is the serum and which is the cream.

once you were finally done, seungcheol walks you out of the bathroom with his hands on your shoulders.

"for dinner i got you take-out from your favorite chinese place," seungcheol says, seating you down at the dining table. "i haven't perfected my cooking skills yet."

"this is more than enough, cheol," you laugh, watching as he makes himself busy with warming up the food and bringing it to the table. "this is perfect."

"anything for my sweet girl," seungcheol winks flirtatiously, setting down a plate in front of you. "eat up, you need your energy. or else you're gonna be waking up like a hungry zombie tomorrow."

pretending to be offended at his words, you lightly kick his foot under the table. he responds by holding your free hand in his above the table as you both eat dinner in comfortable silence.

you're glad he doesn't ask you about work or what caused you to be this dejected earlier, because you frankly didn't have the energy to deal with all the emotions you felt earlier. knowing seungcheol, he'd probably whine and pout till you opened up to him later, so you put the sad thoughts away and focus on the moment.

—

you thought the night would wrap up with the meal. you felt far more happy than how you felt when you came home earlier, all thanks to seungcheol's efforts, but apparently, dinner wasn't the end.

after dinner, seungcheol loads the dishes in the washer, and then picks you up to take you to the bedroom. he props you up against the pillows and drapes the comforter over you.

"the new episode of love next door is up, you wanna watch?" seungcheol asks, grabbing the TV remote and getting under the covers next to you. the one thing you loved about your home with seungcheol was the TV in the bedroom, for the days either of you couldn't be bothered to go out to use the one in the living room.

"yeah, i need to know what happens next," you nod, a smile breaking across your face. seungcheol gives you a dimpled smile of his own and puts on the new episode of the series you both were heavily invested in.

as the intro started playing, you snuggle closer to seungcheol. as if on instinct, he outstretches his arm for you to use as a pillow, and you wrap your arm around his waist. your legs tangle together and you rest your head on his chest, breathing in his cologne.

"thank you so much, cheol," you murmur against his chest. "you helped me a lot today. if you weren't there-"

"we don't need to think about that," seungcheol shushes you. "no matter what, i'd always be there for you. which is also why you don't need to thank me. i do it because i love you."

"i love you too," you reply, looking up at him. you're met with his loving gaze; the gaze that heals you from the inside out, easing all your worries and filling you with hopes for a better tomorrow.

a tomorrow with seungcheol by your side.

you lean in to kiss him sweetly, and he complies easily, holding you impossibly closer to him. just as you break away, a character on screen starts yelling, startling the both of you and making you burst into laughter.

the long, weary day finally ends with you safe and secure in seungcheol's arms.

you wouldn't have it any way else.

- fin.

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[embodimentofagayinsect]

"In walked a tall woman, definitely over 6', obviously muscular with one prosthetic arm. Your eyes traveled up to her face, and now you knew why everyone talked about her gaze. It was steely and almost frightening. She looked you up and down with something in her eyes that you couldn't place. Her skin was littered with scars, the biggest one was smack dab across her cheek. How intimidating."

If I saw her for the first time of my life, I'm afraid I would've blurted out my undying love for her on the spot and quite possibly get crushed to death (not the worst way to go, of course).

"You eyed her full lips as she said this, the gap between her teeth was more prominent when she spoke. Not to mention her husky voice, she sounded tired but with still a hint of determination."

Someone already got it down bad (get in line).

"You turned around to meet her eyes (also having to crain your neck to look up at her.)"

Screaming internally at this height gap (I'm a 5 ft garden gnome 💔).

"When you walked around in the streets with you she always walked behind you, looming over your shoulder."

"-she would get comfortable enough to drape her arm around your shoulder, her poncho sheltering you from the cold."

"she started walking you home at night because she stayed in your office to keep you company whilst you did paperwork into the late hours."

"Sometimes you'd fall asleep in at your desk, but this was no problem. Sevika would pick you up, gently as to not disturb you and carry you to your home. And she was careful to walk through quieter places in the city so that the hustle and bustle of people didn't wake you."

"And yes she tucks you in."

Oh my god, sevika slowly (a big softie, honestly) growing to care for the reader, and allowing herself to be looked out for is truly heartwarming. This woman deserves the whole world for all she is doing for the freedom of Zaun.

OMG sevika x reader who fills in for silco after he dies?? 🤍 but sevika is oddly shocked at her kindness—

Sevika's boss ꩜

i absolutely love this idea ! sevika pledging her loyalty to you whilst you pledge yours to her !! so this is how you met + how you treat her on the job.. and off (i fear silco didnt provide a safe work environment)

visit my masterlist HERE

Zaun needed a new leader, and you just so happened to be the second in line to the throne.

You had the option to throw Sevika out if you really wanted a different right hand man. But in your opinion, if she worked for SIlco; she would work for you.

You'd never met her before, only heard the things that Zaunites whispered about her on the street

" She took on three men at the last drop yesterday. I think Silco put her up to it. "

" The way she looked at me made me think I was going to meet my end. "

Silco was no gentle ruler, he was strong and fierce. You could only imagine how he treated his goons, and and only Gods know how he treated Sevika.

You sat in his office chair, displeased with the scattered papers on his desk and the old whiskey in a glass that now smelled rank.

You had called her in to have a chat, so that you knew who you were really working with. Not knowing what to expect; you watched as the door creaked open and you nervously drew in a quick breath.

In walked a tall woman, definitely over 6', obviously muscular with one prosthetic arm. Your eyes traveled up to her face, and now you knew why everyone talked about her gaze. It was steely and almost frightening. She looked you up and down with something in her eyes that you couldn't place. Her skin was littered with scars, the biggest one was smack dab across her cheek. How intimidating.

You spoke to her, firmly but gently, "As you know, I'm taking over for Silco until things can be.. sorted out-"

She cut you off with a brisk, "Get to the point."

You eyed her full lips as she said this, the gap between her teeth was more prominent when she spoke. Not to mention her husky voice, she sounded tired but with still a hint of determination.

"I'm not demoting you or anything, just so you know," you spoke while raising an eyebrow at her, "I just wanted to get to know you before I start ordering you around, y'know?"

She narrowed her eyes at this statement. Its obvious she expected you to immediately ask her to do things for you the way she did for her former boss. Always running around the city cleaning up his mess, fighting his battles. But no. You weren't Silco. There was something different in the air around you.

Now that you've officially met its time to put this girl to work !!

She was almost always available. This concerned you. If you asked for her presence she would be there within minutes. It was like she was waiting for you at the door 24/7.

This made you bring up off days to her, "You know, if you ever need time off or anything don't hesitate to ask me. I don't bite"

She was confused at your willingness to let her do nothing but sit around while you did the work. And even after you said this she never asked to be called off.

"Okay, you know what. If you're injured after a mission don't even think. About trying to leave your house," You called her in to run some errands but what she didn't tell you is that she got stabbed roughly in her side the night before.

This made her angry, did you think she was weak? You're making her take a break because she didn't do her job good enough for you? Trying to cut her pay by putting her out of work?

But no, surprisingly in the next few days you sent her out again, and when she came back you slid a hefty bag of coins her way. She questioned your ways but she wasn't complaining.

You tried never ask absurd or unnecessary things of her. If you needed to talk with someone in the city you would go down and do it yourself. She caught you out one day, talking to a shop owner about prices.

"Why the hell are you out without me."

You turned around to meet her eyes (also having to crain your neck to look up at her.) "Well, I don't need a body guard to walk around you know that right?" You said, tilting your head to the side.

She drug her hand over her face at this, "You could have asked me to do it for you, I'm free. Plus don't you know anyone could be trying to get at you? Are you an idiot?"

"I can handle myself Sevika. But if you're soo worried about me ill let you come next time," You teased before turning around to speak to the owner again.

She grumbled to herself before taking a seat in one of the old chairs behind you and crossing her arms. If you didn't know any better you would think a small embarrassed blush kissed her cheeks.

When you walked around in the streets with you she always walked behind you, looming over your shoulder. Sometimes you thought she would start barking if anyone came up to you. You slowed down a bit to match her pace before latching onto her arm.

Her body tensed at your touched and she looked down at you, though you didn't meet her gaze as you continued looking forward. The neon lights illuminating the angles of your face. She shook her head at your willingness to touch her, but didn't comment on it.

You felt the flex of her bicep when she tensed up at your fingers. Her arm was hot under your touch and you could feel the scars that littered her skin.

This became routine, when Sevika walked you home late at night she would get comfortable enough to drape her arm around your shoulder, her poncho sheltering you from the cold.

And yes, she started walking you home at night because she stayed in your office to keep you company whilst you did paperwork into the late hours. Saying, "Its the least I could do since you don't let me do it for you."

Lighting a cigarillo she sat on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table. The smoke wafted from her position to your nose, the smell oddly comforting.

When you groaned and dropped your head into your hands it was her queue to get up and pull your chair out from your desk.

"Its too late, you should get home."

Sometimes you'd fall asleep in at your desk, but this was no problem. Sevika would pick you up, gently as to not disturb you and carry you to your home. And she was careful to walk through quieter places in the city so that the hustle and bustle of people didn't wake you.

And yes she tucks you in.

If you really insisted on staying to do paperwork she would grumble a few curses but stay anyway.

You were starting to grow on her. Maybe being cuter than Silco gave you some brownie points.

thank you for reading ! if you sent an ask in the past few days, don't worry, I'm getting to them all :) I appreciate all the support !! ♡♡

[novvabee]

could you write about the mauraders when they go to the shrieking shack for the full moon and there’s another werewolf? Idk something like that

ooooo, this gave me a really fun idea, hope you enjoy 💗

The Deer, The Dog, And The Two Wolves

summary: remus meets another wolf

word count: 2.3k

“I mean, did you see her? Talk about fit!” Sirius laughed, walking through the portrait into their common room. He was talking about the new girl, the girl who had started halfway through the semester.

Poor girl was paraded in front of the whole school for her sorting. She was obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable to be the center of the whole school’s attention.

“Too bad she was sorted into Slytherin,” Sirius said as he threw himself across a sofa in the middle of the common room, “I would have liked to get to know her.” This made Lily and Mary scoff from the opposite couch in front of the fireplace.

“Why’s she starting in the middle of the semester?” James asked.

“Maybe she just moved here.” Lily supplied.

“Lucky her,” James said, “she just missed midterm exams.” Everyone chuckled at that.

While everyone was conversing and laughing, Remus had dread looming over him. His muscles began to ache and he could feel the effects of the approaching full moon. The moon would be tomorrow night, but Remus had been feeling it all week. After a while of chatting, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed. 

“I am quite tired,” Remus said, standing and motioning for the boys to follow. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Just meet us in hogsmeade.” Mary says.

Remus nods, the other boys say their goodnights and they all make their way up to their room. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Remus was falling into bed.

“What is the plan for tomorrow?” James asked, they usually had no trouble sneaking out and waiting in the shrieking shack for Remus, but this time, the girls insisted the boys come with them to hogsmeade for the day. Only Lily knew about Remus, so sneaking away was going to be harder than normal.

“I was thinking I could cut away from the group with Remus and we could head to the shack while you help Lily distract the others.” Sirius said, having planned that out fairly quickly. “That sound alright?” he asked Remus.

Remus was too tired, too weary to answer vocally so he just nodded. The boys looked at him with pity, they knew how he was feeling, so they just opted to let him sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day spent in Hogsmeade was lovely, despite the pain and tenseness that Remus felt, he still enjoyed himself.

They made their way from shop to shop, buying candies from Honeydukes and gadgets from Zonkos. The girls begged to stop by Gladrags and the boys reluctantly agreed.

“Fine,” James said, rolling his eyes, “but only because I need a new tie.”

The group piled into the shop, the girls immediately rushing towards the new dresses and coats, Remus and Sirius turned to browse the rings and necklaces. 

Remus felt… odd. He felt the hairs on his neck stand and a chill run down his spine, immediately set on edge. He had never felt this before, a new experience for him. He put himself on high alert, scanning the shop, but seeing or sensing nothing out of the ordinary, just that unfamiliar tingle.

“Dear Merlin,” Sirius muttered from beside him. Remus followed his gaze across the shop to see Regulus. It seemed like the brothers noticed each other at the same time, because Regulus turned to his group of friends, and they swiftly exited.

“Still in a spat?” Remus asked Sirius.

Sirius huffed and replied “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Remus left it alone, seeing as the day was going very well, he didn’t want to ruin it in any way. 

James got his tie and the girls all bought different clothes and were ready to continue on. It was getting later in the day, the sun would set soon, so Remus wanted to finish the trip.

“Butterbeer, anyone?” he asked and the whole group perked up and started down the street towards The Three Broomsticks.

Remus opened the door for the group, allowing everyone in, before stepping in himself. Once inside, that grating feeling was back. He looked around again, but was met with the same outcome, there was nothing awry. Confused, he just figured the moon was messing with his senses.

The group found a table towards the back of the pub and they all squeezed in. Remus found himself sandwiched between Marlene and James. The whole bunch was lively as ever, laughing and joking, talking about everything and nothing at all.

The witch who ran the pub asked the table for their orders and James ordered butterbeers for the whole table. So typical of James, to order and pay for everyone, spend his fortune on his friends and a good time. 

Mary gasped from across the table, making everyone turn their attention to her. “Don't look now,” she said, “but that new girl is sitting with the Slytherins.” 

The whole table snapped their necks toward where Mary was looking.

“I said don’t look!” she squealed.

She was right, the new girl was sitting next to Dorcas and across from Regulus, looking like she was in a deep conversation with them. But, almost like she felt their eyes on her, she looked over to them. The whole group tried to turn and make it look like they weren’t just staring at her(it was so obvious), but she caught Remus’s eye before he could look away.

It was like she looked directly into his soul, and there was that feeling again. Remus could have sworn she sat up straighter, taken by surprise for some reason. She narrowed her eyes at him, looked him up and down, then returned to her conversation.

Odd… 

Their butterbeers arrived and Remus put the interaction aside, deciding to just enjoy the rest of the time he had with his friends. Once the group finished, Sirius casually yawned and turned to Remus. “Fancy a smoke?” he asked. Remus nodded and exited the pub with Sirius.

They began their journey to the shrieking shack, Remus feeling the nip in the air, but also that feeling. He took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, handed one to Sirius, then lit them both. Perhaps a smoke would ease the odd sensation. Walking in comfortable silence, taking drags of their cigarettes, the boys eventually ended up at the shack.

Remus dropped the butt of his cigarette and snuffed it out with his shoe, Sirius taking one last drag, then doing the same.

“Now,” Sirius started, “James will meet up with us but it’s business as usual right?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, just try to stay in the forest like normal.”

“Gotcha,” Sirius replied. “Gotta lock you in now, Moons.”

Remus opened the door to the shack and stepped inside. He pulled the door closed and heard Sirius mutter the spell to magically seal him in until he transformed, then one of them would open the door and they would spend the whole night racing and playing in the woods in their animal forms.

Remus didn’t enjoy a lot of his lycanthropy, but being able to run in an animalistic way with his best mates, that was one thing he did enjoy.

Remus made his way upstairs to the old, beaten up bedroom, and layed on the bed. He began waiting for the transformation. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Something was off, Sirius could tell. He and James, who had broken away from the group finally, were sitting at the edge of the forest.

They heard Remus transforming, which was never easy, but this time it seemed that he was having a particularly rough time. James winced from beside Sirius and shook his head. Once they were certain he was fully changed, James magically unlocked the door.

They both transformed into their animagus form, but Remus didn’t come out. Sirius and James looked at each other and Sirius went inside to check on Remus, coax him out of the shack.

Sirius padded upstairs, expecting to see the wolf destroying something or clawing at the furniture, but he was met with a completely different scene entirely. The wolf was pacing around the room in a circle, sniffing the air and whining. When it saw the black dog that had entered, it perked up, but still looked around, as if looking for someone else.

The dog raced downstairs, goading the wolf to chase it. The wolf gave in easily and followed the dog down the stairs and out of the house where they were met with the large stag. The wolf tackled the deer, rolling and play-fighting until the wolf’s ears perked up. It snapped it’s head to the forest and bolted.

The dog and the deer had no chance to wrangle it before it slipped through the tree line and into the dark forest beyond. The dog and the deer looked at each other and then dashed after the wolf.

Sirius didn't understand what had gotten into the wolf, but raced as fast as he could to catch up.

That is when the howl came from deep in the forest. Everything stopped, the whole forest seeming to be silenced. Then the answering howl sounded.

The deer and the dog followed the sound to an opening in the forest, a small field with a large oak in the center. They expected to find Moony there, chasing something, but they were not expecting to see two wolves circling each other.

They hung back at the tree line, watching but ready to protect Remus if anything were to happen.

The other wolf was smaller, a female, but just as dangerous, still a werewolf.

The two wolves continued circling each other, tense. The smaller wolf noticed the dog and the stag at the forest’s edge, and growled, hackles raising. Moony stepped between her and his friends, protecting them, and growled deep back at her. The other wolf turned her attention to him now, focusing all her anger at him.

Moony wasn’t backing down, determined to protect the dog and the stag behind him. He clawed at her, catching her right under the eye. She wasted no time in returning the favor, and swiped right back at him, getting him good.

Moony, shocked, stepped back and sat down, like a dog asking for a treat. The other wolf blinked, then mirrored his actions. Moony pounced and ran off, the other wolf following, chasing.

They were playing. 

The dog and the deer looked at each other, then back to the two wolves, then joined in.

It was slightly harder, keeping track of two wolves rather than just the one, but at least they could rough-house with each other and not be too afraid to hurt the other, like Remus often was with Sirius or James.

The two wolves raced each other and swam in the lake, the whole group having fun, until Sirius noticed the morning light. Dawn would break soon and Remus would transform back, they needed to get him back to the shack. Moony, however, was being more difficult than normal. 

The moment Sirius and James tried to corral him and chase him back to the shack, Moony refused. He kept wandering over to the other wolf, trying to continue to play. So James and Sirius decided that both the wolves had to be wrangled into the shack, if that was the only way to get Remus back in.

That task was incredibly difficult, Moony bouncing all over the place and the other wolf threatening to snap at the boys if they got too close. They eventually managed to lock both the wolves in the shack with minimal damage.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Remus woke on the floor of the bedroom feeling more tired than he had ever been after a full moon. He felt like he could sleep for ages. His aching body needed all the rest it could get.

Small moments from the night came back to him and suddenly…

He snapped his head toward the bed to see a sleeping figure curled up in the old and torn blankets. That feeling tingled the back of his neck again. 

The figure sat straight up, feeling the same feeling. Remus knew that face, the new girl. She made direct eye contact with him, then quickly scanned the room, unsure of where she was.

He could see she was scared, so he calmly said “It’s ok, you’re ok.”

She looked at him unsure. “W-where are we?” she asked, voice a little raw.

“This is called the shrieking shack, it's where I come… to transform.” Remus answered, still trying to calm her and get her to trust him.

“You’re the wolf I was with last night?” she asked, more like putting the pieces together.

Remus nodded. “My name’s Remus.” He smiled.

“Y/N” she answered.

“Nice to meet you Y/N.” He said, noticing how she seemed to start relaxing.

“And… that dog and the deer?” she asked.

Remus chuckled, not knowing exactly how to answer that. “They’re harmless.”

She nodded and they sat in silence for a minute before she spoke again. “I didn’t know there were others… like me.” she said.

Remus didn’t know how to talk about this with anyone, he had never met another werewolf. All he could seem to do was nod.

“H-how long have you been… you know…” she asked timidly.

Remus smiled sadly. “‘I was bitten when I was really young, about three.” He answered.

Her eyes widened and she gasped. “Three!?” she looked in disbelief. “I am so sorry, you’ve had to deal with this for a long time…”she trailed off. “I was bitten a couple years ago. That's why I transferred schools, the other one kicked me out, thought that I was a danger to the other students.”

“I am so sorry,” this time it was Remus’s turn to feel bad.

She smiled sadly. “It’s ok, besides, now I know someone else like me.”

[natalievoncatte]

“What if we don’t go back yet?”

It was a peculiar question that Lena asked, but a compelling one. She was currently lying with Kara, or rather *on* Kara, after the Kryptonian caught her once again. Kara had slipped under as she fell and cushioned the fall with her invulnerable body, and they currently lay in the wreckage of a sailboat along the docks, the ruined and smashed vessel bobbing gently in the ocean.

“What do you mean?”

“Alex and the crew can get the guy,” said Lena.

She was referring to the second-rate wannabe villain that had tossed Lena off the roof as a ploy to distract Supergirl and cover his escape. It had worked, of course, with Kara abandoning her manhunt to catch Lena. As she always did. That was apparently why he kidnapped her in the first place instead of, who knows, maybe robbing banks in a town without a superhero.

It didn’t seem to matter much now. Kara was warm and had wrapped them both up in her cape, and Lena’s head lay pillowed on her shoulder. Kara curled around her, breathing gently into the crown of her head.

“Why wouldn’t we go back?”

“I’m tired,” Lena murmured, giving the words more truth than she meant to. She was tired, so tired. She could sleep for a thousand years here, lying with Kara.

This always went the same way. Kara would bear her to safety like a knight in shining armor and set her down and then she’d step back.

The contact would end.

It’s not like they never touched- they hugged and kissed each other on the cheek even, and Lena secretly treasured that, but it wasn’t enough. It was different when Kara rescued her.

If physical touch was Kara’s love language, the way she held Lena after a rescue was a kind of Freudian slip. These embraces were more, just more in a profound, indescribable way.

She was always so tender, after. She would sweep the hair from Lena’s eyes and just touch her for the sake of it, running the pad of her thumb along Lena’s jawline or hugging her extra tight, extra close, fearful and yet utterly fearless.

Much as she was holding Lena now.

“I know,” Kara whispered.

She did know. If there was anyone truly in tune with her needs, it was Kara. Kara cared, so fully, so deeply, so recklessly that Lena could barely understand it, and scarcely believe it.

“I want to stay here with you.”

Kara tensed slightly, throat bobbing as she swallows and her breath caught.

“What I want more than anything is just time to be us,” Lena said, very softly. “You and me. No company, no DEO, no adventures, no crises. I could just lay with you here forever.”

Kara was quiet, gently working her fingers through Lena’s hair.

“I’ve thought about things like that.”

“What sort of things?”

She was quiet for too long a beat, then said, “just us being us, alone. No game night, no movie night, no brunch, no Noonan’s, just this. Just you and me and… and relaxing.”

“Cuddling, you mean.”

Kara shifted herself, gave Lena a little squeeze.

“I don’t want to go either. I don’t want to let go of you.”

Lena opened her eyes and looked at Kara, at her golden hair fanned out around her head and her questioning blue eyes.

“So don’t.”

Gently, carefully, Lena freed an arm and rested a palm against Kara’s cheek. Her skin was always so warm, so lusciously soft. Kara was watching her intently, eyes searching.

“I think it’s customary, after the brave her saves the girl, that the hero gets a kiss.”

Kara tensed, clearly nervous. It was the most adorable thing Lena had ever seen.

She kissed her.

Kara was stone still at first, barely responding, then something seemed to awaken in her and she kissed Lena back, intensely. Lena was a little shocked at the sudden way Kara almost seemed to lunge into her, how her hands suddenly moved and she took Lena by the hips.

It was amazing. Her heart fluttered and her head was swinging and she felt a cold shock-

“Kara! The boat is sinking!”

With the most annoyed sigh, Kara stood and lifted Lena into a bridal carry. Water was gurgling up around them.

“Alex is going to kill me,” said Kara.

“Alex can wait,” said Lena. “Take me home.”

[hoesluvjude]

Future Plans || jude bellingham

Word count : 1k

Genre: fluff

Author's note:Enjoy;)

Masterlist

The couch was soft, the room dimly lit. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, a testament to the candle Jude had lit earlier. You’d spent the better part of the evening watching an old movie, but now, the TV was off, and the room was silent save for the occasional hum of traffic outside.

Jude was sprawled out comfortably, his legs stretched across the couch. You were draped over him, your head tucked under his chin, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arms were wrapped around you, one hand lazily tracing circles on your back while the other rested on your hip. He always had this way of holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

"You know," Jude began, a teasing edge in his voice, "I was thinking we should have ten kids."

You burst out laughing, the sound filling the quiet room. “Ten? Are you out of your mind?”

He grinned, clearly amused by your reaction. “Why not? Think about it—a whole football team! We could have family tournaments. And maybe an extra kid for the bench, just in case.”

You pushed yourself up slightly, giving him a mock-serious look. “Jude, do you have any idea how much chaos ten kids would be? The noise? The mess? The grocery bill?”

He chuckled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Okay, fine. Maybe not ten,” he said, but there was something in his tone that made you squint suspiciously at him.

“Wait,” you said slowly, “you’re not entirely joking, are you?”

Jude’s grin softened into something more thoughtful, and he shrugged, looking almost bashful. “Not really,” he admitted. “I mean, maybe not ten, but… I do love the idea of a big family. Coming home to a house full of laughter and love. Watching them grow up together, always having each other to lean on.”

You smiled at the thought, imagining a little one with Jude’s warm eyes and infectious smile. “They’d be lucky to have you as a dad,” you said softly.

He tilted your chin up with gentle fingers, his eyes locking onto yours. “And they’d be lucky to have you as a mom,” he said, his voice filled with so much conviction that it made your throat tighten.

He smiled at you, a little shy, and then tilted his head. “Okay, so maybe ten is a bit much. What about you? How many kids do you want?”

You leaned back against his chest, pretending to think. “Hmm… Two feels like a good number. But four could be fun, too. A nice mix of boys and girls, maybe.”

“Two or four?” Jude repeated, his hand resuming its gentle pattern on your back. “Okay, I could get on board with that. Two feels manageable, but four does sound kind of perfect, doesn’t it? A little pack of chaos, just enough to keep things exciting.”

You smiled at the thought, imagining a lively home filled with tiny feet running through the halls. “Yeah,” you said. “Two or four feels right. But let’s not lock anything in yet. We’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.”

Jude nodded, his expression softening as he gazed at you. “We’ll figure it all out together,” he said.

You fell into another comfortable silence, the kind that only happens when you’re with someone who feels like home. You could feel Jude’s chest rising and falling beneath you, the steady rhythm soothing in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

“So,” Jude said after a moment, his voice teasing again, “what do you think about matching family pajamas for the holidays? Too much?”

“Way too much,” you said, laughing. But even as you teased him, you couldn’t help but picture it—a future filled with warmth and love and the kind of moments you cherish forever.

“You know,” Jude said eventually, a playful lilt returning to his voice, “we could always practice.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “You’re incorrigible.”

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “And yet, you’re still here.”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice softening. “I am.”

Jude’s expression turned tender again, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you always want to be.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in, and snuggled closer to him. In that moment, there was nowhere else you’d rather be. Our future might still be unwritten, but with Jude by your side, you knew it was going to be beautiful.

“Do you think we’ll ever get tired of this?” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

Jude chuckled, a soft, musical sound that made your heart flutter. “Tired of what? You using me as your personal pillow?”

You pinched his side lightly, and he let out a playful yelp. “I meant us, silly. Being like this. Together.”

His hand paused on your back for a moment, and then he tightened his hold on you, pulling you impossibly closer. “Never,” he said firmly. “I could spend forever like this and still not have enough of you.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, and your breath caught in your throat. The way he looked at you—like you were his entire world—was enough to make your heart feel like it was going to burst. His eyes were soft and warm, his lips curved into a small, boyish smile.

“Forever, huh?” you teased, though your voice was soft, your own smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

He nodded, his expression turning serious. “Yeah, forever. And after that, if I can.”

“What about marriage?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I think about it all the time,” he admitted. “Waking up next to you every day, calling you my wife, knowing that you’re mine and I’m yours forever. It’s... it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you buried your face in his chest to hide your smile. “You’re such a sap,” you teased, though your voice was thick with emotion.

He laughed again, the sound vibrating through you. “You love it,” he said confidently, and he wasn’t wrong.

You fell into a comfortable silence after that, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. You could feel his fingers start tracing patterns again, this time on your arm, and it made you shiver in the best way.

[suiana]

Make yandere femboy pls nya (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Pweaseeeeeee

yandere! femboy roommate who has a massive crush on you but you don't seem to understand.

"hey i really REALLY would like to eat something, YOU preferrably."

"yeah I'm cooking us dinner just wait dawg"

he doesn't know whether you're playing it safe or just stupid. this guy is pretty sure his signals are straightforward and direct after all.

"do you want to go out to the park together?"

"lol as friends right?"

like??? he's pretty sure he's not speaking another language. do you not get it? are you dumb? or... are you intentionally ignoring the signs? after all... you are also talking to other people. you can't possibly not know that he's trying to get your heart.

"where are you going?"

"on a date, see ya."

oh that won't do. what do you mean you're seeing other people? people that aren't him? how could you do this? he's your roommate! he lives with you and clearly knows you better than any of these other shitheads! so why aren't you choosing him?!

no, he'll make you see that you need him just as much as he needs you. no one can love you like he can. i mean, who was the person who took care of you when you were sick? who was the one you came crying to after you saw a video of a baby panda falling down? who was the one you went to for all your problems?

it was him.

him.

not that random guy on the street, not that cute guy at the coffee shop, and definitely not your classmate. no, it was him. your cute roommate who likes dressing in feminine attire. the cute pretty boy living with you who wears skirts, dresses, and all things pretty. your very own roommate who knows more than you'd like others to know.

"hey, i like you and really see you as more than a friend-"

"yeah cause we're roomies!"

ah, he knows what you're trying to do. you're trying to play hard to get! that's it! there's no way you'd actually get with someone else right?

"lol so meet my new boyfriend..."

"😦"

okay, that's it.

he's more than willing to take drastic measures to ensure that you're his. it doesn't matter if you're a bit upset or confused right now, he'll help you realise your true feelings. your true love for him. because that's what a good roomie does, right? they help you when you need it.

and he's the ultimate roomate. so much so that he's certain he'll be your boyfriend by the end of it all.

all yours to do what you want. just accept him and everything will be alright.

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Heyoooo, i just read your say it louder and im in love with that so much like holy, so i was wondering if you could make something kinda similar or something? like maybe logans chasing reader because she stole his cigars and they have a cute moment or something along those lines, maybe end a bit with or with smut? thanks so much babes!

Mine Now | DOFP!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Warnings: Primal!Logan, Scent Tracking, Shotgunning His Cigar, Marking, Implied Smut, Reader is a Mutant who has invisibility, Enemies to Lovers because I’m a sucker for pain, Takes place at the very end of DOPF when Logan comes back to the future, Pain Kink, Breathing Play, Choking, Claws come out – I repeat the claws come out,

Rating: R – No Minors

Word Count: 4.5K

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your request! This was a blast to write and honestly? It gave me a good excuse to write for DOFP!Logan! I adore you! 😊 Also completely unrelated side note….you did say you wanted smut, right??? Because I may, or may not, have spaced you said cutesy and went right to horny.

To be tagged in any future work of mine, please fill this out.

“Hank, have you seen her?” Logan asks, his voice layered with annoyance. You couldn’t help but silently snicker as you watched his brow crease, his nose twitch with frustration, his finger rapping at his side impatiently. The way his jaw ticked as Hank narrowed his own eyes at him made it impossible to hold your laughter, even when you were currently pressed up against the wall – a clear view of the situation going down. You pulled your lip between your teeth as you homed in on Logan’s features, eyes glimmering with rage. It was such a beautiful sight to see, one you have been dreaming of for months. Though you’d never openly admit it, everyone knew, all except him. You had to make the chase worth his while.

Logan Howlett is a force to be reckoned with, everyone told you that. When Charles and Eric first recruited you to teach with them in New York – you thought it was a joke, a cruel one at that. Living paycheck to paycheck in a hole in the wall Hell’s Kitchen apartment, dealing with constantly screaming and fighting from your neighbors, it wasn’t where you wanted to be. You were a survivor, you could adapt to anything, but after what you had experienced, you needed a fresh start. Working at a local diner, making shit for tips wasn’t ideal, but it was enough to help you save to leave. Where would you go prior to this? You had no idea, but someplace that experiences winter – you always loved the snow. But alas, that dreary November day a few years ago changed everything; It changed you. Meeting Logan on your first day told you everything you needed to know about him – he refuses to get close to anyone, you wanted to break that.

It's been three years since you first met Logan, two since you found yourself thinking he was cute, a year since you felt yourself falling for him, and six months since you started the cat and mouse chase. At first with how standoffish Logan was to you, you started to resent him. A year it took before that all fell to the wayside; Your feelings had shifted when you found him outside one night, crying as he smoked his cigar. Of course, your mutation left you able to turn invisible, able to watch him, without him knowing you were there. Through the heavy rain your smell was masked, he couldn’t tell you were there. But it made you feel closer to him; He wasn’t some robot who didn’t have emotions. He felt them too strong, which is why when he started to slip back into his mind, he pulled away. Being over 200 years old meant he saw some shit, lost people he loved, it took a toll on him after a while. That day forward you stopped keeping your distance, but instead made the effort to be near him, to show him you weren’t going anywhere.

Slowly you noticed how Logan started to open up to you, telling you stories of when he was young, his first mission with the X-Men. You got to learn a lot about The Wolverine, and come to find out he wasn’t a hard ass – he was sincere, doting, downright admirable. What he dealt with in his years fucked him up horribly to where he didn’t trust people easily – but it didn’t make him less. He always pushed forward and strove for success, to survive. He wouldn’t classify himself as a hero, but he was to you, and he deserved to know. Logan found himself trusting you easily after a year, his lonely nights stuck in his own head turned into game nights with you, strolls through the garden, getting a drink at the bar downtown. He could still be himself, but not have to carry the baggage by himself all the time. Falling hopelessly in love with him was inevitable, but also impossible. Nothing more could happen between the two of you and you knew that – but there was still a flicker of hope in your mind that wouldn’t quiet down. Especially with how flirty Logan had become with you.

 Usually, he was like this with Jean and Storm, taking it up a notch with them so he could have the last retort. To say he wasn’t a ladies’ man was a lie, he could pull anyone he wanted to. To Logan it was a game, seeing how flustered he could make him teammates – and he loved to win. With you it was different – it wasn’t low growls and light touching on your arms, no, it was more. At first to started off to be resting his chin on your shoulder, letting his breath stroke the column of your neck. Slowly it moved out to touches; Holding your waist from behind, rubbing his large hands over your lower stomach, slipping his hands under your shirt to caress your hip. Over the last few weeks though, he upgraded to holding your face, running his calloused thumb across your bottom lip, stealing forehead and cheek kisses before heading out. Rogue and Kitty that you two were dating, even Bobby got in on it – but when you stated you weren’t everyone looked at you like you had six heads.

“No Logan, I have not.” Hank let his eyes pan to where you were hiding as Logan turned away for a moment, giving you a small wink as he played along. After all, this was his idea – well, his and Xavier’s. You had overheard a conversation about how Logan’s cigar smell had been wafting into their classroom’s lately – distracting everyone as Logan taught. Charles had the bright idea for you to nab them and hold them hostage, until Logan learned his lesson. You on the other hand, were far too gone to do that. Instead you decided to take the cigars, but make a game out of it. Little post it notes with clues on where you were hiding, you stored them all over his bedroom and classroom, thanks to Scott. Ever since Jean told you just how primal Logan could get, how good of a tracker he was, you wanted to test it out for yourself. What better way than take the one thing he cannot live without? “What happened this time?”

Logan huffed as he ran both of his hands down his face, coming dangerously close to propping his hip against your body. You had to shuffle slightly as he leaned into the wall, letting his head bounce off the wood a few good times. “Little shit stole my box of cigars.” He looked exhausted, frustrated, and downright sexy. Seeing how lost and irritable he was without them made you smirk, causing you to bite your lip harder to suppress a whimper. You noticed how Logan’s ear perked up as you gulped, his head turning softly. Hank noticed this almost immediately and replied with a whooping laugh.  “Ha!” You sighed inaudibly as you silently thanked Hank, knowing he used his booming voice to mask your sounds. Holding one of his hands up to Logan, he snickered as he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry that was cruel of me. What I meant to say is, that’s funny.” Hank let out a small chortle at Logan’s distain, being met with a flash of a middle finger, and claw too.  “Thanks, asshole,” Logan huffed as he pushed himself off of the wall, running his hand through his hair.

You watched him intently, thanking whoever was listening for making you have the power of invisibility. Being able to listen to everything going down, while Logan has no idea you’re here, made you feel powerful. You heard talks about how your power could be useful, but ultimately not threatening; Now, you’d beg to differ. Though you grew tiresome of the chase, being a fly on the wall versus a real player. It was fun the first two hours this started, but encroaching on hour six – the school clearing out and the sun almost set on the horizon, you grew slightly bored. “Have you tried the library? She likes to hide there.” Hank let out without hesitancy, making your eyes grow wide. It was like an aha moment for you, choosing the most likely place for last. Earlier it was too crowded, people would know you were there the second Logan came looking for you. But now with the young mutants either outside or in the city due to the upcoming weekend, you knew it would be vacant.

“I know her all too well, Hank. That’s the first place I looked.” Hearing Logan say that made your heart flutter, made you feel special that he knew you so well. A strong sigh left your lips as Hank coughed, dreamily staring at Logan as you started to walk backwards. Losing your invisibility for a moment, you stood a few feet behind Logan, walking towards the grand staircase that took you to the library. Waving at Hank, you motioned for it as you smirked, causing Hank to laugh. “You sure?” He asked, nodding behind Logan. As you stood closer to the staircase, you noticed how Logan was sniffing the air – his body growing tense as he spun around. It’s when he laid his eyes upon you that you knew he was fed up. It wasn’t the primal growl and heavy breathing that got to you, but the way his hazel eyes went from green to black in a split section, his chest heaving as he stared at you. “Oh shit,” was all you managed to let out as you turned invisible again, running up the stairs.

Everything was a blur to you, running as fast as your body could take you. Three flights to get where you needed to go seemed like forever, when you were being chased by The Wolverine. He had super human speed, a great nose for sniffing things out, he was at the advantage whilst you were at a disadvantage. Even with scent masking, now that you started to sweat it would make you more obvious, especially when the library was empty. Huffing and puffing as you managed two steps at a time, you refused to look back. But you could hear the stomps of Logan’s boots, clearly taking three steps to match you. Silently you prayed to whoever was listening, to get you to the library safe and sound before Logan got you. The last thing you wanted was for him to pin you to the stairs so everyone could see, that was too on the nose.

Reaching the top step of the library, you managed to sway your way through the wooden chairs and tables, giggling to yourself as you were halfway across the room. Due to the grand nature of the library, especially being two floors, it gave you so many good hiding spots. A circular room to see everything, yet hide in plain sight. As you made it over to the spiral staircase for the second level, you had noticed Logan standing at the entrance of the library, huffing and puffing. It made you snort, seeing how riled up he was. You had to admit, it was sexy to see how pissed off he was, causing a fresh wave of your arousal to coat your panties. Logan seemed to have taken note as he sniffed the air, his eyes cutting across the room straight to yours. “Come on out princess,” he growled, flexing his hands at his side. Slowly you crept up the metal staircase for the second level, taking one step at a time to not elicit any sounds. You let your breathing relax, slowing your heart rate as you kept calm, not needing to give yourself away. But Logan could sense you, eyeing the staircase with every move you made. “I got you now.”

A devilish grin fought to claim his mouth as he pounced over the tables, running on all fours as he landed right at the bottom of the staircase. You managed to get all the way up and around, leaving to the right. Multiple aisles of books covered upstairs, as well as the walls, each window let in the dusk light – showing dust particles roaming the air. Your tell-tale shimmer of invisibility was caught in the light a few times, but Logan was too lost to notice. Finding your perfect hiding spot away from prying eyes, you slotted yourself against the endcap of Psychology of Mutants, knowing no one reads these. You could feel the stagnant beating of your heart at times, wondering if it was due to fear or the thrill of the chase. Maybe it was the aspect of it being bittersweet as well; A years long chase with Logan finally reaching its peak. You knew there would never be going back from this, and that was okay. Stealing his cigars wasn’t the endgame, it was only the beginning.

“You can’t hide forever you know,” Logan snarled as he reached the top of the landing, huffing as he eyed every shelf. You could see him, nor did you want to, hoping to God he chose to head left instead of right. Alas you were sorely mistaken as his heavy steps started to echo right, causing you to curse under your breath. SNIKT, you heard the metallic sound echoing through the room, but also your mind, causing you to whimper. Logan had unsheathed his claws, holding them out. The idea of him using the claws on you, pinning you down with them, holding them against your neck made your body run hot, your arousal heightening as the thoughts ran rampant through your mind. “I will catch you.” It was not a threat but a fact, Logan was not kidding anymore. The animal inside of him was taking over, leaving the Logan you knew behind. This was all caused because you pushed him to the point of no return, and you fucking loved it. The reverberation of his claws against the wooden shelves made you shudder, knowing how close he was getting now.

Biting down hard on your lip, you placed your hand over your mouth, trying to regain control of your breathing. Being right across from the last window on the right didn’t do you any good, especially with the beam of light falling through. If you moved even a millimeter, you were going to be made. It’s then when you opened your eyes to pan to your left that you saw his shadow encroaching on you, his stance wide as his claws were pointed at the ground. Each gruff huff he let out made your eyes roll back, finding it harder and harder to keep yourself hidden. You couldn’t look away from him either, you needed to watch him; How the sweat beaded at his hairline, how his little tufts of hair were wild from pulling at them, how his snarl got more animalistic the longer he tried to look for you. “Where did you go?” You couldn’t describe how Logan sounded in that moment; Primal and animalistic do not even begin to crest.

You focused too much on his tone, completely forgetting your watchful eye on him. When you glanced back after trying to calm yourself, you noticed the 6’2 Wolverine was no longer walking his way towards the aisles but vanished into thin air. Not knowing where he was, made your heart rate skyrocket – panic ensuing all over your body. Goosebumps arose across your skin as you pondered where he could be, afraid to move in case he was lurking close to you. Maybe he went off to the left instead, leaving you by yourself to escape. It would make sense, considering how you heard the creaking of the floorboards on the opposite side now. Letting out a concealed breath, you slowly moved away from the end cap of the shelf, leaving your back exposed. You knew it was a mistake when the hot, stifling air of the closed space became ice cold, a shiver falling down your spine. The sun shifted away in that moment, blanketing the area in darkness, complete with only a sliver of light, not even to cast shadows. The second your back was exposed; All hell broke loose.

Two strong hands grabbed hold of your hips, pulling you back into a solid form. The yelp you let out was loud enough to echo, but not loud enough to raise suspicion. The strain on your powers had gotten to be too much, slowly slipping back into being visible. You huffed out as your back connected with his chest, your hands finding purchase on his muscular forearms. “There you are little mouse.” He snickered in your ear, pressing his nose to the pulse point of your neck. Logan deeply inhaled at the vein, his teeth barring to nip at your exposed shoulder. It felt good to have his mouth on you, to have him seemingly obsessed with your scent. After all, it is what gave you away. Whimpering out, you dug your nails into Logan’s arm, feeling the reverberation of his snarl through your body. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move – you were a lost cause. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

Logan was mocking you at this point, purposely being a little shit to mimic how you have been with him. When it came to his cigars, he wasn’t fucking around. But when he knew it was you who took them, well he wasn’t going to let you live this down. Logan moved from behind you, but kept his hands grasping your flesh. Moving to the side, he pressed your back against the end cap again, bringing you back to your original position. His right hand remained on your hip as his left grasped your neck, pressing against your pulse point, feeling the thrum of blood on your veins. The edges of your vision began to go fuzzy due to the restricted blood flow, but you didn’t care. Logan was putting you right in your place, and you were obeying so well for him. “I believe you have something of mine,” he murmured; His prominent nose pressing harshly against your cheek. The warmth of his breath on your skin, mixed with the cold drag of his claws against your skin made you shiver, loving how it felt too much. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You laughed out, clearly laced with thrill.

Logan didn’t take too kindly to you playing dumb, the tick in his jaw spoke measures. His grip on your neck was heavier than before, using his full weight to restrict your blood flow quicker, your vision developing black dots. “Oh, you don’t?” The challenged in his voice said all you needed to know – he was fucking desperate. There was no hiding it now, he needed you – not his cigars, but you. Gulping down against his large hand, you felt the press of his claws against the back of your neck, pushing through the wood of the bookshelf to lock you in place. He would never intentionally draw blood, or hurt you, but he knew this was your deepest fantasy, all thanks to Jean relaying it. His lips were inches from your ear as he chuckled darkly, groaning out against the flesh. “Do I need to jog your memory?” You shouldn’t have been as turned on by that as you were. Your knees buckled slightly as you almost fell, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Logan took advantage of your eyes being closed to pull his hand away from your hip. The loss of touch made you whine, but quickly you were quieted by his roughened tugs. Grabbing at the edge of your tank top, Logan ran his claws through the fabric to create slits, ripping them open just as easily. Looking down at your jeans, he could see the bulge in your pocket – where you had hidden a few of his cigars. A huff of relief fell from his parted lips as she cut your pocket open, letting them fall right into his hand. He mimicked your hiding and shoved them into his own pocket, moving on to the next. The cool breeze against your exposed skin made you quickly heat up; Logan using his claws on you made you lose your fucking mind. He repeated his efforts with your other side, making matching holes in his jeans and shirt, not caring anymore.

It was as the last few cigars rolled out of your pocket that Logan pulled back, his heavy body heat no longer suffocating you. The contact was missed, causing you to pout slightly. “Boo hoo hoo,” Logan mocked as he watched you, walking backwards to push his back against the window. The sill right below it was begging him to sit, so he took advantage of it. Reaching into his left pocket, Logan pulled out his Zippo lighter – flicking it against his pants to ignite the flame. It was intoxicating watching him, how effortlessly fluid his motions were. Biting your cheek, you watched him intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulled out the precut cigar from his pocket and pushed it between his lips, favoring his left side for it to rest between his teeth. Lighting the end until the cherry burned bright, he took a few quick puffs, blowing the smoke out in a cloud around him.

Your eyes could not pull away from him even if you tried, it was nearly impossible. The way he moved was like silk through the wind, so effortless and elegant; He knew he was hot like this. Taking another quick drag, Logan let the smoke fall from his lips as he tucked the cigar back in between his teeth, putting away his lighter. Reaching forward with his claws still extended, he hooked two of the blades into the belt loop of your jeans, tugging you forward. There was about a person’s space between the bookshelf and the window, making it easy for him to grab at you. Of course, your body obeyed his silent command, tripping slightly as you tried to regain your footing. Placing both of your hands on his thick, warm thighs, you licked your lips. The smoke being released from both the cigar and his mouth captured your attention, making it difficult to focus on what he was saying. The way his motions flowed were so smooth, it was impossible to say anything else to him.

Taking a rather large drag of his cigar, he puffed his cheeks out a bit to hold it all in. It took you by surprise, why he was holding it all in his mouth. Retracting his claws on his right hand, Logan grabbed at your jaw like a man possessed, pushing his meaty fingertips into your flesh. The slight ache of his possessiveness made your mouth part, a pained look on your face that you were lost in. Logan got close to you, his lips only mere inches away from your mouth as you whimpered. With your lips parted, Logan mimicked your motions as he breathed out. The soft, heady tendrils of smoke wafted from his mouth into yours, causing you to let them stir. Tobacco mixed with the sweetness of the wrap caused your eyes to dilate, boring into Logan with pure unadulterated lust. There was no mistaking it as he shotgunned his cigar with you, his smirk prevalent. “That’s my good girl.” He crooned, taking in your big eyes, the heat of your skin – basking in your glory.

You blew the smoke right back at Logan while he chuckled, licking his lips to wet them as he took another puff. There was something so intoxicating about how you reacted, it was like watching a painting come to life. From the first day he met you, he knew you were something else – he had to challenge you. Almost four years later and you’re still trying to get with him, he admired it. Finally, the silent love he had for you could be shown, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for you. You made him work to catch you, now you had to work to get what you wanted. “Get on your knees.” The command fell off of Logan’s lips so naturally you almost didn’t catch it at first. Your eyes glossy as you watched him, your brain not keeping up. Narrowing his eyes at you, he cocked his brow as he laid the cigar to the side, watching to see your reaction. “I’m sorry?” You questioned without realizing, your face slack with lust.

Reaching forward towards you, Logan grabbed your neck once more, this time yanking you so close to his face that you felt his breath waft over your features. “Get. On. Your. Fucking. Knees.” There was no hesitation in Logan’s voice as he stated his command, letting his face go rigid to show he was getting pissed off. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” You wanted to, every fiber of your being wanted to disobey him, make him angry so he was rough with you – at the same time you didn’t want to make him mad, not yet anyway. Nodding to him against his hand, you slipped down to your knees easily with a moan, pressing out your wet bottom lip as you gazed up at him.

Logan rolled his eyes as he grabbed the cigar again, pressing it against your lips. It’s when you take a drag of it that he pulls out, putting it in his own mouth once more. With his hand now free from holding his cigar, he quickly flicked open his belt buckle, undoing the top button on his jeans as you took the silent command to pull his zipper down. His erection was stiff against his jeans and left nothing to the imagination. He was big, he was hot, and he was fucking turned on. Watching you with a lustful glow in his eyes, Logan groaned as he watched you, never letting you have the last word: “You may have started the game princess, but I am going to finish it.”

----

Tagging: @livelaughl0ve3 @mehjustalasshere @allen-444 @begaytotallygay @tezooks @hughj1d @mami-veracruz @salemslostwitch @karencaribou @princesstarble @dirtylittlefairytales @hbwrelic @mosscrissfemmefatale @pinkanonwriting @craziersarah98 @actuallybridgetjones @silversprings-mp3 @lokidovahkiin

[heedthetenofwands]

ghost x (lowkey unhinged) sunshine f!reader

suggestive nsfw (but non-explicit)

His girl was the sweetest thing. Smile as bright as the sun and you looked at him like he’d hung the stars and the moon. Coming home to you was always the highlight of his day.

But something was amiss ever since a week ago.

He had come back from base, a day of planning for the next mission and cleaning up from the last, and his heart yearned to be at home with you. Stepping through the front door, he was ready to hear his bird chirping his name and telling him about the day. But the house was silent, the lights were off, and he couldn’t hear a thing.

He waited a moment before calling out your name. It was only when he walked up the stairs to the bedroom that he saw you sitting on the edge of the bed. Your back was to the door.

“Love?” He called to you. You turned your head back to see him before standing up and making your way around the bed to smile and greet him. You hug him tightly, a bit firmer than usual and he had to brace his core a little in surprise. You let go and look at him with an innocent smile.

“Did you have a good day?” You asked.

“It was OK, better now.” He replies. You continue staring at him, almost in contemplation and, without blinking, kiss his cheek and move out of the room.

Alarms bells are ringing.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"There's something wrong." He confesses to them at drinks after work a couple days later. "She's angry."

"Your bonnie? She doesnae seem ta have a malicious bone in 'er. I'm sure it'll pass." Soap says.

Ghost grunts dismissively. "Never been this long."

Gaz hums in thought, "Did you forget a date?"

Ghost stays quiet but Gaz doesn't miss the confused stare. He clarifies, "Birds care about 'em. 1st anniversary, birthdays, the milestones. Can fall through the cracks if you're not careful though."

Ghost replies, "Maybe." In his mind, he's already running his fingers through their calendar.

Price cuts through, "Why not just ask 'er?" Straight to the point, as Ghost expected.

He leans back, "Rather not." Ghost knows he's hiding the real answer. What do I do if I can't fix it?

Price looks at him, assesses him and sees right through him. But before he can press further, Ghost hears his phone buzz. He pulls it out of his pocket and after reading the message from you, grumbles a quiet 'fuck' that draws the attention of his team. They lean over to catch a glimpse of the message.

The screen showed previous conversations between the lieutenant and his girl, you sending him your texts with smiley faces, hearts or emoticons with every message. That is, until your latest one which read:

Love: pick up bread on your way home.

The team winced at the cold tone.

"Good luck, mate."

"Warning ya, bakery closes earlier than usual today."

"You're fucked."

Ghost glares at them all before standing up and leaving.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The rest of the week had followed similarly with you just not acting like you're usual self.

That Friday it was your turn to pick a film to watch, where you would usually put on a cheesy rom-com or a tense-filled drama, that night it was a R18 horror movie. Ghost did not utter a single complaint when you put it on. Or move an inch when you lay your head on his chest and smiled at a scene where a cheating husband and his mistress get sliced in two.

Where you two would usually stay in bed together to bask the warm glow of a slow Sunday morning, instead, Simon woke alone. He called your phone again and again until you came home a couple hours later. You ignored his questions. Fearing the worst, he let it go.

And the bite of your finger nails into his skin got stronger and stronger every night as you two lay in bed. It was as is if you were clutching or branding onto him with all your might.

It was later that week, that Simon decided to was time to ask. Time to confront the dissonance that was ringing louder and louder in his ears whenever you touched him, looked at him and smiled at him.

He was going to do it. Right after dinner, he was going to do it.

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Ghost, in fact, did nothing after dinner because as soon as you had gathered up the plates. You had returned with a cake.

You brought it to the table. “I know how much you love my desserts, Si. It's been forever since I've made one so I thought I would make your favourite today." You sit down before adding, "I've changed it up a bit, too. New ingredient and whatever.”

Ghost stills at that. “What’s the ingredient, darling?” He says as casually, as he could. Cyanide? Arsenic?

You smile sweetly at him, “It’s a surprise Si, where’s the fun in knowing before tasting it?”

“Right.” He replies, hesitantly.

You start cutting a slice, and place it on his plate before sitting down and waiting for him.

He takes the fork. "You're not hungry, love?"

You shake your head, "I want to see your reaction."

There's a moment where Ghost is trying to remember the poison hotline contact number so he could ring it after his 'taste test' but he finally breaks.

“Nope, can’t do this anymore.” He says.

“Can’t do what, Simon?” You asked with faux concern. You stand up and come to his side of the table to face him. “What’s wrong, baby? You're going to love it.”

“Did I forget an anniversary? Your birthday?” He thought aloud. He doubted it, but he must have done something wrong. He reaches for your arms and gently pulls you to stand in front of him, he holds your hands and bows his head before you. “Tell me love, have I been neglecting you? Spending too much time at work? You can tell me.”

You gently remove your hands from his hold, moving one hand to cup his cheek and the other to tilt his chin so he could meet your gaze. At first, he leans into the gentle palm of your hand but the cold look in your eye with that small smile of your lips makes him freeze.

“Don’t bullshit me, Riley.” Your voice cuts through the candlelit room. He has to fight to not let this do something to him. It gets worse when you use both of your hands to cup his jaw and force his head upwards to meet your gaze. “I found a second phone when I was sorting the laundry. There was a message from another woman. Asking if you would be coming over that night. What a greedy fucker you are.” He has to fight any sound that may escape from his lips at seeing you speak so harsh. “You listen to me, Simon.” His eyes widen as you close the distance of your face to his and your lips are so close. He wants to kiss you. “I will fucking kill her.”

Ghost had no idea what was happening, mind moving too fast and too slow all at once. All he could do was focus on his sweetheart's voice. You stand upright, move closer to Ghost, forcing him to spread his thighs so you can stand between them and press his face to your form, stroking the back of his head, his shoulders, his back as if to soothe and comfort. “I am yours. You made it so. And now, you are mine too."

He can't help the chills running down his spine as he laid his head against your body and felt the presses of your touch. You tell him, “All you need to do is give me her name and where I can find her. And after tonight, we can forget all about this, my love. If you work hard enough, I will forgive you. And in time, I will ask you what deficit I had to make you think you can replace me."

You sigh, "I gave you all week to confess, but you have no shame do you?"

Finally, Ghost's mind seems to catch up, "Wait, wait, sweetheart I don't have a second phone." At that, you tighten the hand in his hair, grabbing a good chunk of the back of his head. He whines at the sensation, "I swear, love." But you do not yield.

His mind is racing.

A second phone?

And finally, he realises. "Sweetheart, wait. It's Johnny's. He mentioned that he lost his phone, the idiot must've dropped in my gym bag. That's why you found it."

Your body stills. "Are you sure, Si?"

While you stay still, Ghost only wraps his arms around you, nestling his face against the warmth of your body and your hesitance. He pleads, "On my life. Call him, darling. Please."

˚₊‧꒰ა . ——— ˗ˏˋ ✮ ˎˊ˗ ——— ˖ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

A phone call later, you confirm that Soap indeed dropped his phone, and was seeing the woman you saw in the notifactions. With a sinking feeling, you return to the kitchen table.

"Si, I'm so sorry." You tell him, tears already brimming your water line. "I should've just asked you-" Before you can say another word, Ghost had already stood up and embraced you. You sink against him.

You should have never doubted a starving dog.

Ghost smiles as he releases you from his hold, "You still want dessert?" He looks back at the cake.

You only giggle, "Yes, let's eat. Not that one though." You ignore Ghost's questioning gaze as you walk to the fridge, humming a small tune, and then pull out another identitical cake. You set it on the table, smiling innocently as the blood drains from Ghost's face. "Let's eat, Si."

[0mg-bird]

bombshell of the bau was soo good, I need more of those two pls!!!

Aghhhhhh thanks! Okay, upon popular demand, here’s a part two.

Bombshell Of The BAU~ Part II

Spencer Reid x Fem!Agent Reader

Summary: With all the attention you get, it’s hard to hide something as scandalous as what you and Spencer have going on. Often times, it comes down to stolen moments and too close calls.

But you don’t expect the team to find out the way they do.

Warnings: Tehehehehe. Okay, 18+ content, suggestive material, smut, MDNI, um they’re so cute! Morgan being a c!ck block on like too many occasions, slight voyeurism kinda?? Exhibitionism kinda? Two second mention of Reid’s addiction. Reader gets hurt by UbSub but she’s fine. Idk, enjoy.

“You sure you don’t want a drink?” Emily asks as she walks with you down the hallway.

You pull the clip from your hair so it softly falls down around your face. A sigh leaves your pouty lips that are long gone of lipstick.

“After the day I had? I’d much rather take a very long shower, order room service on Hotch’s dime and watch Sex and The City.”

Emily laughs. “That sounds pretty perfect to me. Hey, did Morgan really make you crawl up in that attic?”

A shiver runs through you. “I don’t want to relive that trauma.” You claim.

She rubs your arm affectionately. “Well, you try your best to recover.”

“I’m a fighter, I’ll be okay.” You say dramatically, flicking your hair out of your face.

Emily drops you off at your door. “Call me if you need anything.” She says.

“Aw, sugar, I can always count on you.” You place a kiss on her cheek, the way you always do as a goodbye to your female agent friends.

You dig the room key from your pocket and press it into the slot. Though, you don’t push the door open, you instead look to the elevator where Emily disappears in, headed down to the lobby where most of the team resides.

When the coast is clear, you briskly turn further down the hall, passing multiple doors until you come to stand at the right one. Sparing another glance over your shoulder, you raise your knuckle to the wood.

The door opens after two knocks, and that arm raised in the air is grabbed and tugged, making you fall swiftly into the room.

You let out a soft giggle, though it’s cut off by an equally smiley kiss.

The door clicks shut behind you as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Spence.” You sigh dreamily against him. “Long time, no see, handsome.”

He pulls back to look down at you, that lopsided smile you love so much, playing on his lips.

“I saw you this morning at the station.” He reminds, letting his hands roam up your sides to hold your face.

He’s learned how to be comfortable in his actions, knowing now that you aren’t going to push him away when he reaches out. For three months, the two of you have been hiding this well kept secret, and maybe it was wrong to keep something like this from the team but…

Both you and Spencer agree that it’s nice, having something to yourselves.

So that’s why the two of you steal away any moments you can, like being on the same hotel floor after solving a case.

You give a pout. “But I’ve been stuck with Morgan all day. He was so cruel to me.”

Spencer matches your rutted lower lip. “Oh, he was cruel, huh? How was he cruel, angel?”

You love it when he calls you that.

Your hand slips into the hair on the back of his head, it’s definitely gotten a little longer.

“Made me follow him all around town, boosted me up into an icky crawl space to search for evidence.” You explain, trying to kick your heels off.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Spencer jokes, his thumb rubbing your cheek.

“It was a miserable, miserable day.” You sigh, dropping a few inches in height once your shoes are off. “But I’m here now and let me tell you, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Spencer gets that slight blush he always does. “Have you?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pulling him down for another searing kiss.

Instantly, lips are parting and he’s tasting that unique-to-you taste of your tongue. Maybe it’s a placebo effect, but after awhile, he’s addicted to that sweet flavor that lingers on your lips.

You sigh and melt into him, ready to forget about all the work the two of you went through today. Taking your hand, you grasp one of his and bring it down to your belt. He gets the hint, then quickly tries to get you out of the clothes you can’t bear to be in any longer than you need to be.

While you pull his tie loose, he pulls the concealed carry holster from where it was tucked inside your waist band. He sets it on the nearby table, then pulls your shoulder holster off. You chuckle against him as you pull his own fire arm off and join it with the other two.

“So many guns.” You comment.

Without a risk in the way, he untucks your blouse. “Occupational hazard.” He adds.

Slowly, articles of clothing are making a home on the floor, and once you’re down to your underwear, you’re falling onto the bed with a laugh.

“You’re on my hair.” You wince.

“Sorry.” He adjusts, gripping your waist as he flips the two of you over.

Knees on either side of his hips, you’re free to do the thing you’ve been thinking about all day. Your favorite thing is the little gasp Spencer gives you when you first create a dizzying friction against him. You absorb it with your mouth on his, hands on his cheeks, manicured nails slightly pressing into his skin. You still haven’t figured out what flips inside of you, or what it is exactly that he does that makes your brain think ‘I want to eat him’.

“What time are we flying out tomorrow?” You ask, placing his hands on your hips.

His fingers flex into your skin, and drags you against his lap.

“7:00.” He answers, knowing how much you hate early mornings, and long flights home.

“I have a bone to pick with that Hotchner guy, I think he’s out to get me.” You huff. “He ships us out when the sun comes up, he puts me with Morgan all day, and he never lets me hang around when you’re doing paperwork in the briefing room.”

Spencer, much more brave now, trails his lips down your jaw and neck.

“That’s because you’re distracting.” He states.

You gasp. “I am helpful!”

“Helpful when you have your hand between my legs under the table?”

You giggle. “I’m helpful in more ways than one, baby, and you are no better than me.”

With a slight disbelief of his eye, he pulls away from tracing your pulse with the tip of his tongue, and shakes his head at you.

“How am I no better?”

You slightly tug at the ends of his hair. “Spence, you almost got us caught when you shoved me into the conference room on your lunch break and Emily was looking all over for me.”

He smirks, feeling all too proud of himself for that bold move. “It was my lunch break…I was having lunch.”

Ever since Spencer learned how much he enjoys his face between your thighs, it’s like he’s a junky all over again and can only go so long without making you fall apart for him. You remember thinking that there was no possible way the two of you could get away with it as he pushed your skirt up and sat you on the edge of the table, kneeling before you. You also remember thinking this was one of the hottest things he has ever done.

In the beginning, you were worried that he thought you only wanted sex. The sex, it’s great, it’s …well, it’s wow. But being with Spencer means laughing more than you ever have, spending days off together, holding his hand in public and going to as many bookstores as he likes. It’s all so much more than you ever had before.

At work, it’s the same as it’s always been, you shamelessly flirt and Spencer, being the victim of your sultry ploys, keeps stumbling his words and hardly ever raises red flags.

Sure, the team noticed that he’s a little more out of his shell, has more confidence about him, but they just think he started believing all those compliments you tell him. In all actuality, he just feels proud that he has someone like you in his life, whose socks end up in his laundry and who leaves lipstick stains on the collars of his shirts.

Fingers trace up your spine, raising goosebumps on your skin as they aim for the clasp of your bra. He’s getting pretty good at undoing the hooks.

But just before he can try to beat his time, a knock comes from the door.

The two of you pause, your lips pull back, your fingers leave his hair.

“What do we do?” You whisper.

Panting slightly from the lack of oxygen he receives when your tongue is slotted to his, he just shrugs. “Maybe they’ll go away.”

Just like that, your hips continue their motion and he’s going to free your chest.

Another knock.

“Reid, it’s Morgan.” The voice comes.

Spencer lets out a rather irritated huff, his eyes shut as he swallows hard, willing the man to just go away.

“Reid! Open the door.”

Nope, he’s not leaving.

“Son of a bitch.” He grunts.

“Oh, watch that dirty mouth, Doctor.” You tease as he pulls you off his lap.

He stands, running through mathematical formulas to try and calm down in his boxers. He scoops up a sweatshirt that lays on the back of the desk chair and pulls it on. In a panic, you roll off the bed and hide behind it on the floor, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Reid-”

Spencer pulls the door open. “What?” He snaps.

Derek is surprised by his bluntness, but he takes in his disheveled appearance and is more confused.

“What were you doing?” He asks.

“R-reading.”

Derek looks at his bare legs. “Without pants on?”

Go away, go away, go away.

Spencer breathes out. “I was about to take a shower. Now, what’s up?”

Morgan folds his arms over his chest. “Everybody is downstairs, don’t be a loner up here.”

Spencer shakes his head. “I’m pretty tired so uh, I’m gonna turn in.”

Morgan looks at him for a moment too long. “You sure you’re okay? You seem…flushed.”

“I’m fine, Morgan, really.” He reassures.

Laying face down on the carpet for a few minutes while the two men hash out whatever it is Morgan needed to, you come to the realization that you’re actually exhausted. By the time Spencer finally gets Derek to leave, you’re sitting yourself back up on the bed with a frown.

“What is it?” His brows furrow as he sees your expression.

Never have you ever had a partner so attentive, so loving in every touch they gave you. But Spencer runs his fingers through your hair as you tell him how you long for sleep, and he reassures you that it was okay you weren’t in the mood anymore.

He brought your bag from your room to his, though you truly just fell asleep in a t shirt and panties.

In the morning, you pretend you were in your room the entire night, and you meet the team in the lobby, fresh faced and ready to fly home.

“What’s your plans for this weekend?” Morgan asks after discussing with Emily what she’ll be doing.

You, who is currently taking up too much space on the couch, look over at the pair and shrug.

“I’ll have you know I have a very hot date with my bathtub when I get home and a very big plan to clean my apartment.”

That was all a lie.

You’d be over at Spencer’s this weekend, you’d be spending all your time with him, acting like a normal couple in public, having dinner and he’d get flustered when you’d kiss him in public.

But the team can’t know that.

Spencer comes back from the back of the jet, only to see his spot on the couch has been taken by your legs. He stares at you for a moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to sit here?” You innocently question.

“Yeah, I’d prefer to.” He nods, watching you smirk.

“All you have to do is ask nicely.”

“Please?”

You sit upright, planting your feet on the ground. “Always so eager to beg.”

Emily laughs, Spencer goes red in the face.

To them, it’s exactly how it always has been between the two of you.

He sits beside you, not too close, but your fingers twitch to reach over and touch him. Your nails go to your mouth instead to keep them busy.

Without truly paying attention, Spencer reaches over and tugs your hand away from your mouth and instead hands you a sucker he pulled from his bag.

It’s such a domestic act that though there’s nothing too suggestive about it, Emily notices. She clocks the behavior as something a little odd. Sure, you and Reid have always been close but since when has he carried around things for you?

Truly, you should’ve known that Emily would be the first to suspect something, but you continued on blissfully, believing that the team was so caught up in everything else that they wouldn’t catch what was happening right under their noses.

“The station was able to get us last minute rooms but there’s only four available, some of us are going to have to double up.” Hotch says nearly a month later on a case in a small Texas town you were only supposed to be in for the day.

But when the case turned into something far more complicated than anticipated, the team opted to stay for a bit longer.

The team shares a few looks as Hotch holds the motel room keys in his hand, all knowing that he wasn’t about to bunk in with Rossi anytime soon.

“I’m not sleeping with Reid.” Morgan declares as he begins to feel like it’s going to be assumed. “Make the girls share a room.”

All three of you begin to protest, knowing you’re fine with sharing but not fine with Morgan making that decision for you.

He holds his hands up in surrender.

JJ, always such a leader, looks to you. “If you and Prentiss want to share, I’ll bunk with Reid.” She sighs.

Spencer starts feeling like he’s a child again, watching his parents talk about custody, knowing one parent truly doesn’t want him.

The suggestion, though innocent, has your nails pressing into your palms. It’s a terrible idea in your mind, because here is a chance to stay with your golden boy for the night and it’s getting taken away.

“I’ll stay with Spencer, I don’t mind. Is that okay with you, Spence?” You turn to look up at him, innocent smile, sultry eyes.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Fine- it’s fine with me…I’ll take the floor.” He stutters awkwardly, sealing the deal with a cricked smile that’s very Spencer Reid.

Hotch narrows his eye as he hands you a room key. “Keep the flirting to a minimum.”

“How can I when he just makes it so easy?” You joke, taking the key.

As you grab your bag, Morgan begins to uncontrollably laugh.

“Go easy on him.” He jokes. “He’s a romantic.”

“Morgan.” Reid sighs, following behind you.

“You have a fun sleepover! Hey, you still got that whistle? Yell fire if she gets to be too much!”

I glanced back at Morgan, shaking your head before looking to Spencer. “Come on, lover boy, I don’t bite.”

“Yes you do.” He mutters.

“Only sometimes.”

Hotch prays he’s not going to get an email from HR. He’s already hearing it from Strauss, a meeting needs to be set up for inappropriate conduct between coworkers, and everyone knows Garcia and Morgan aren’t the only ones to blame, not when you’re addressing Spencer as ‘handsome genius’ in work emails.

The door clicks shut and you turn the lock, letting out a sigh and taking in the modest room, everything decorated in a dated western fashion.

“Were you serious about taking the floor?” You ask, causing him to look back over to you.

“If you want me to, yes.”

Bless him and his gentleman qualities, it has you wanting to jump him in the most passionate way.

“Now, why would I want you to be down there when I’ll be up in the mattress all alone? Here I thought you had a high IQ.” You tease, opening your go bag. “You mind if I shower? You could join me if you want.”

The offer is tempting.

“I better stay here in case someone comes knocking, might be a little suspicious if we’re both dripping wet at the same time.” He says, feeling proud that he still can think logically, though it’s far too hard when you’re around.

A smirk pulls at your soft lips. “I thought I was the only one who knew anything about being dripping wet.”

Spencer becomes flush, his cheeks burning as he says your name, prompting you to stop your explicit behavior.

“Sorry, baby, it’s just so easy.” You come to kiss his jaw before finding your way to the bathroom.

The shower is warm and the low light in the bathroom is soothing, you rinse clean and shampoo your hair, making the steam smell like your scent. Spencer browses the minimal television selection, then fights his urge to unmake the bed because he knows you’ll want to adjust the blanket and sheets a certain way.

“The water pressure is surprisingly good.” You say after about fifteen minutes, coming out, releasing that waft of steam.

Toweling your hair, you come back to your bag to find your various travel lotions, though you don’t get very far because Spencer is looking at you like you just hung the moon.

“What?” You ask, slightly adjusting your robe with an unsure smile.

He smiles softly. “I just…it’s unfair how beautiful you are in every form.”

Your heart swoons like it always does when he’s around.

“You have no room to talk, mister.” You remind, abandoning the skin care and come to stand between his knees that he parts for you.

Your finger traces the line of his jaw as his hands gently place on the backs of your thighs.

“You’re so sexy with your hair pushed back like this. Did you start wearing it like this because you knew it would drive me crazy?” You ask coyly, half teasing, running your fingers through it.

“It’s getting long.” He says.

“Nonsense, I love it.”

“You love everything.”

“I love you.”

The two of you pause. Those are three words you haven’t exactly expressed often. It’s been said, in a ramble from Spencer where it just came out and you had beamed up at him like you’ve won a prize.

Now, you say it with certainty, and he wants to hear it again.

“I love you.” You say with more intensity, leaning down to where you have his face in your hands, holding him there as you kiss him.

“I love you too.” He mumbles against your lips.

You don’t pull away when he slowly reaches for the tie of the silky robe, you’d never reject him.

He’s already lost his shoes and socks, his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, but he loses more as you help him. Further up on the bed, you let the open robe fall off your shoulders, not feeling bashful as he studies you with his eyes.

Spencer could never look at you in anything other way than adoration.

“Hotch is dumb.” You decide in his lap, placing his hands on your hips.

“We’re taking advantage of the situation.” Spencer declares, face falling to your shoulder as you sink further down onto him.

“I feel no remorse.” You breathe.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had sex, the first time was a long time coming and it was perfect. So gentle and warm and everything the two of you craved. You laid in his sheets and traced the freckles on his skin and it’s a moment you think of often because you often don’t get them.

Now, you have a moment and are seizing it.

“You okay?” You ask with the drag of your hips.

“You’re heavenly.” Spencer proclaims, tasting the clean skin of your neck.

“Spence.” You gasp, getting the hang of a rhythm. “Fuck.” The word leaves your lips as soon as he thrusts up into you.

You and Spencer have always worked well together so this is no different.

It’s addictive, the feeling stirring in you, the shear pleasure washing over him. He knows a thing or two about addiction and he can confidently say that you make him feel far better than any needle in the vein did.

At some point, with your hands in his hair, mouth hot against his, and his grip moving you how he wants…

Your phone rings.

At first, you do your best to ignore it, but it continues in an annoying fashion.

“No.” You plead, trying to chase that oncoming feeling.

“Who is it?” Spencer breathes heavy as you reach for the device.

“Emily.”

His head falls in defeat, movements slowing, prompting you to answer.

You do your best to not sound aggravated as Emily asks if she can bring dinner by, but the idea of a burger does sound nice.

“Yeah, we could eat.” You state, free hand over Spencer’s mouth to keep him quiet as your slow movements continue.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” Emily states in a kind yet suspicious tone.

“Will do, thanks Em.”

You throw the phone away, overwhelmed and determined to reach the high that was slowly slipping away.

“I hate our team sometimes.” You determine, frustrated that you lost momentum.

Not so gently, Spencer adjusts you to be on the mattress, taking over when you threaten to call off the entire idea because there was a stumble in the step.

“They should just know not to call on the off chance two coworkers are breaking HR rules.” He jokes, entering you without hesitation, making you gasp out.

The roll of his hips is slowly bringing you back to the precipice at a dangerously fast rate, leaving your legs to shake a touch.

“Emily is going to be here soon.” You stress, digging your skull into the pillow.

“We’ll be done before then.” He assures, reaching his hand down to rub his thumb against your clit in a hot friction.

“Emily could stand here and watch for all I care.” You state, pleading for a release. “I just- I need it, baby, please.”

“I know, I know, angel, you’re going to get it.”

How could a man be so soft when he’s doing such dirty things to you? It’s a mystery you’ll never quite understand, but Spencer has always been a wonder, so this is to be expected. He’s coaxing you to the finish, letting you suck on his shoulder to keep your noises down.

And when it happens after the build up of waiting for weeks, it hits like a tidal wave, leaving you speechless, open mouth gasping silently for air. Spencer is shuddering and pressing his face into that space between your jaw and collar bone.

You half expect a phone call, some kind of urgent message that will ruin this moment but nothing comes. It’s just you and Spencer.

At some point after getting cleaned up, you lay side by side, limbs tangled. Your eyes threaten to shut at the way he traces the shape of your face.

“Sometimes I’m just waiting to wake from this dream.” He whispers, tucking hair behind your ear.

You hum. “It’s not a dream, that’s what makes this so great.”

He shifts slightly, tilting his head down to brush his nose to yours. “Sometimes I think it is, because in what reality am I really the person you choose?”

You don’t like that, it obvious on your face. “I’d choose you in every universe, even if you don’t choose me.” You say sternly, a hand pushing his hair back.

He likes when you’re genuine. Well, you’re always genuine, but you also always have a face on, one of coyness and humor. When you’re like this, emotionally bare, he likes you the most.

“I’d never not choose you.” He states before turning to kiss your wrist.

You want to comment about how romantic he is without trying, but Emily knocks like you knew she would.

The two of you spring up, thankful you’re already dressed. You take a calming breath as you head to the door, and Spencer quickly tries to straighten the wrinkled sheets.

Emily isn’t dumb, she knows something is different, but she truly doesn’t suspect anything yet, which is questionable because she has a perfect view of signs that indicate adult activities when she comes in to deliver the burgers.

She goes and tells JJ that the two of you act different, a little more guilty, but Emily doesn’t know for sure until a completely different scenario comes about.

Two weeks later, when you’re sent into a living nightmare. Hotch makes the call to send you into the Unsub’s house alone first, you do it without hesitation because that is just how you do your job when it comes to the life or death of three missing children.

“House is clear, I’m going down to the basement.” You say into the com on your vest, confirming your safety to the team.

But you speak too soon, the Unsub does something the profile was wrong about. Hotch sent you in there because he suspected the man to be submissive to confident women of higher standard.

Though you were cautious, you weren’t expecting the Unsub to attack you at first chance.

You do your best to fight back and get the kids free, but you’re completely blindsided. Who knows what would have happened if SWAT and the team didn’t storm in when they did.

When you sit in the back of the ambulance, in shock, a paramedic cleaning up the gash on your forehead, Spencer is there with concern and comfort.

“The kids?” You ask.

“They’re safe, they’re going to be okay.” He reassured, holding your hand between both of his.

“I didn’t…I should’ve-“

“Shh.” He frowns. “You did good, angel, everything’s alright. Do you feel okay?”

Your brows draw and you shake your head. “I don’t feel well. Do I look well?”

“You have a concussion, sweetheart.” He says, gently pushing your hair back behind your ear.

“Am I still gorgeous?” You ask in a dreamy voice.

“You’re always gorgeous.” He assures, cradling your cheek. “You’re just gorgeous with a head injury that you’re going to go to the hospital to get it looked at.”

Your eyes shut as you hum, the warmth of his palm runs through you. The two of you embrace gently, completely forgetting how casual you are supposed to be appearing.

The team sees it now, of course they do.

You’ll have to explain the secret you’ve been hiding from them later, but now you’re just listening to Spencer’s voice murmur to you, wrapped in his FBI jacket, fighting the urge to adjust his hair.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑨 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒎?

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 600+

Warnings: none

Summary: It’s late, and alexia has yet another important question to ask. [Requested]

The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. Your room was bathed in soft shadows, the faint glow of the moon filtering in through the cracks in the curtains. You lay sprawled out on your back, your breaths deep and even as sleep claimed you. Alexia was nestled against you, her head resting on your chest, one arm draped lazily over your waist.

The rhythm of her breathing matched yours for a while, but then it changed. She shifted slightly, her fingers tracing idle patterns against your side, and her head tilted up to look at you.

“Amor,” she whispered softly, her voice laced with hesitation.

You didn’t stir at first, lost in the heaviness of sleep.

“Amor,” she tried again, this time nudging you gently with her hand.

A groan escaped your lips, a low sound of protest, but your eyes remained shut.

“Wake up,” she whispered insistently, her accent wrapping around the words in that way that always made your heart squeeze. “Por favor, I need to ask you something.”

Your brow furrowed, and you mumbled something incoherent, your mind still foggy.

“Amor, please,” she pressed, her hand now gently shaking your shoulder.

Finally, with a deep sigh, you cracked one eye open to find her gazing at you intently, her brown eyes wide and serious in the dim light. “Alexia,” you murmured, your voice hoarse with sleep. “What could possibly be so important at—” you glanced at the clock on the nightstand, “—2:37 in the morning?”

She didn’t flinch at your tone, nor did she seem deterred by the clear irritation in your expression. Instead, she propped herself up on one elbow, her face hovering above yours. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then a third time, hoping you’d somehow misheard her. “A… worm?” you repeated, your voice flat.

Her lips pressed into a firm line, and she nodded. “Sí, a worm,” she said, her tone completely serious.

For a moment, you just stared at her, wondering if this was some sort of bizarre dream. But the weight of her gaze and the earnest expression on her face told you she wasn’t joking.

“Alexia,” you said slowly, rubbing a hand over your face in an attempt to wake yourself up fully. “It’s the middle of the night. You woke me up to ask if I’d still love you if you were… a worm?”

She nodded again, clearly not understanding why you weren’t taking this as seriously as she was. “It’s important,” she insisted. “I need to know.”

You let out a heavy sigh, your head falling back against the pillow. “Why,” you started, pausing to choose your words carefully, “are we talking about this right now?”

Her lips twitched, almost like she wanted to smile, but her expression stayed serious. “Because I was thinking,” she began, her accent thickening slightly as she spoke. “If something happened to me, if I was not… like this anymore, would you still love me?”

The softness in her voice made your irritation melt away, and you felt a pang of guilt for not taking her seriously earlier. You reached up, brushing a strand of blonde hair away from her face. “Ale, you could be a worm, a bird, a rock… I’d still love you.”

Her face lit up, a small smile breaking through her serious demeanor. “De verdad?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

“Yes,” you replied, your tone softer now. “De verdad. But you’d be a very cute worm, just for the record.”

She laughed then, the sound light and airy, and it was worth every second of lost sleep just to hear it.

“Okay,” she said, finally settling back down against your chest. “Good. Now I can sleep.”

“Glad we sorted that out,” you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips as you wrapped your arms around her.

And as her breathing evened out, you realized that even in the most ridiculous moments, loving Alexia was the easiest thing you’d ever done.

**

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