#Drabble request are open

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

rafe can’t handle it when you cry. he’s a problem solver at heart, and if something is bothering you, in his eyes it’s his responsibility to fix it. he was on a business call when you burst through the front doors of tannyhill, cheeks already stained with tears as your kitten heels click through the house. “rafe?” you call, sniffling and desperate to find him.

he hears you, attention shifting from his meeting to you. rafe is used to your dramatics, but something about your tone sets off alarm bells in his head. he gets up from his desk, cutting off the investor on the other line. “hey — hey man, i hate to do this to you, but could you just give me one second? somethin’ just came up.” he puts the call on hold and shoves his phone in his pocket before they can protest, and just in time for you to walk through his office doors. you’re a mess, shivering with mascara running wildly down your flushed cheeks. rafe’s forehead creases in concern, rushing around his desk to meet you where you’re standing so you can throw yourself into his arms.

“woah — woah, baby. breathe for me, alright?” rafe’s voice is soft but demanding, and he pulls away when you don’t respond, placing his warm hands on your upper arms to steady you. “hey — tell me what’s goin’ on.”

you suck in a few shaky breaths, whining and pawing at your eyes. you’re already so upset, and trying to condense your frustration into any sort of coherent answer has you even more overwhelmed. you just shake your head, more tears welling up in your eyes. “i don’t know! everything is going wrong.”

“okay, listen to me. you have to breathe.” he leans down to your level, commanding more of your attention as he brings one hand to wipe your tears. rafe knows you’re a sensitive girl, sweet and delicate — it’s one of the things he likes the most about you. as much as he hates seeing you upset, he does love being your knight in shining armor. “what do you mean going wrong? what’s going wrong, princess?”

you finally take a deep breath, wet eyelashes fluttering. it really is everything. you offered to plan a surprise birthday party for one of your friends at the country club, but now that you also have to start organizing your plans for midsummers, you don’t know when you’re going to organize it — and soon enough, tourist season is going to make work at the golf club impossible. the icing on top is that rafe has been busy all day, barely even texting you between meetings, and you really missed him.

all of it comes out in a jumbled string of sobs until you finish with a deep sigh, lip still wobbling as your watery puppy-dog eyes bore into his. “alright.” rafe starts, letting go of you now that you’ve settled a little. “tell you what, i’ll help you out with the shit for midsummers. we can head out to the mainland tomorrow and get you a nice dress, yeah?” he pauses to make sure you’re following, and you nod with a sniffle — already feeling a little better with a promised shopping trip. “and, baby — i know you can handle a little party planning. n’if you need me to, i got no problem pulling a few strings to get you a nice reservation, okay, but for now — you’ve gotta relax. go take a nice bath and wait for me, alright? i have to take this.” rafe pulls his phone from his pocket again, the screen lighting up with the call still on hold. he brings his free hand up to wipe your remaining tears, followed by a gentle kiss pressed to your forehead. “you’re alright, princess — i’ll be right there.”

the whole ordeal has your head spinning, one second you’re flying off the handle with anxiety and now you feel light as a feather. but that’s why you came to tannyhill in the first place, knowing rafe would know just what to do to fix your terrible mood.

˚❀˚

[etclouie]

polaroid

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: around Ricks birthday, you had found a working polaroid camera, and decided to give him a different type of gift. (Rick Grimes x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 setting: early Alexandria era

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: younger girlfriend + established relationship, nudes + description of taking nudes, giving nudes (in the form of polaroid pictures), suggestive but no smut, rick calls reader baby (once), pretty sure the words ‘happy birthday’ aren’t used in this at all, lmk if i missed any

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 936

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: thinking of andy’s birthday so pinning this as september time

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 twd masterlist | main masterlist

you had gone out on a supply run with Rick, looking for tins of food and more medicine, as the community was running low on everything at the minute. 

searching through an unchecked row of houses Daryl had mentioned from his previous run, clearing one of the houses of walkers before beginning to skim through the cabinets and drawers. 

looking for medicine in an upstairs bathroom while Rick searched for food in the kitchen, entering the master bedroom with the en-suite bathroom. 

eyes landing on an old polaroid camera lying aimlessly on the bed, piquing your interest and surely making it’s way into your supplies bag - fully without Rick’s knowledge of course. 

the camera had ideas flooding your mind, and the memory of Rick mentioning how his birthday was nearing- or how he thought so at least, with the season change and all. 

one main idea stuck in your head, giggling to yourself at the first idea of a birthday gift for the man you love. 

finding the polaroid instant film in the top drawer of the bedside table, and also putting that in your bag before finally making your way into the bathroom as originally intended. 

opening every cabinet door in reach, and rifling through their contents. setting down every pill bottle and medical item on the counters as you continued to search, your bag set on the floor next to you. 

a soft call of Rick’s voice shouting your name had you moving to the top of the stairs to answer him back, noticing an all too familiar smile plastered across his face. 

“what?”

watching him shake his head before a low rumble sounded from his chest, setting his bag of canned food down before making his way upstairs towards you. 

mind reeling as he stalked towards you, his hands landing on your hips and pulling you against him, his lips pressing to yours and giggles spilling from your lips. 

“what’s gotten into you?”

you had questioned softly, pulling back from the kiss while his hands remained on your hips. thumbs sliding under the hem of your shirt to soothe across your skin, before he was leaning in to kiss you again, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“missed you that’s all, taking your time up here”

rolling your eyes playfully at him and untangling yourself from his arms, moving into the bathroom and gathering all the pill bottles into the bag on the floor. glancing over your shoulder to see him standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. 

“let’s go then, mister impatient”

a week or so had passed since you found the polaroid camera, waiting until you had your shared bedroom to yourself and a day of no planned work to take the pictures for Ricks birthday gift. 

making sure no one else was home and locking the bedroom door, stripping yourself of your sleep clothes before standing in front of the full length mirror in the room. 

eyes raking down your figure and noting the fading marks Rick had left across your throat and inner thighs, humming appreciatively before taking a step back towards the bedside table. 

pulling out the polaroid camera from the bottom drawer and standing in front of the mirror again, lifting the camera and taking a picture. making sure all of your body was in the shot, and the fading marks were visible too. waiting for the film to process before taking another picture, copying the action a couple times until you had a couple decent pictures. 

setting all of the pictures down on the bed, and flicking your gaze over every one. eyes focusing on the one picture in particular you thought Rick would like most, lifting it and soothing your thumb across the film. 

you’d managed to pull Rick away from the rest of the group, insisting that this gift had to be given alone. thoughts flooded his mind as you led him towards your room, shutting the door behind you both. 

reaching into the bottom drawer where you kept the polaroid camera and pictures you took hidden, turning back towards Rick with a grin plastered across your face. 

“remember that run we went on last week?”

you started softly, holding up a small envelope containing the pictures and the camera in the other hand. watching as his eyebrows knitted together before he nodded slowly, your que to continue on. 

“found this camera then, and had the idea to use it to give you a special gift”

handing him the envelope as you spoke, his left pointer finger hooking under your chin to tilt your head towards you while holding the envelope in his other hand, carefully setting down the camera on the nightstand and soothing your hands across his chest. 

watching eagerly as he opened the envelope and pulled out the pictures, alongside a small handwritten note. his eyes flicking over your words before landing on the various different nudes. a low mumbled ‘fuck’ falling from his lips, his eyes raking over your naked form in the film. 

“they’re perfect, you’re perfect”

he groaned out, setting the pictures down next to the camera and turning to you. cradling your jaw in both of his hands and pulling you up into a bruising kiss, gasping under his touch before he pushed you down onto the bed. watching him crawl on top of you and holding your hands above your head. 

hips slotted against yours and legs loosely hooked around his hips, breathing heavy and his voice laced with lust as he mumbled into your ear. 

“gonna take my other gift now, yeah baby?”

requests are open here !

[ofcourseiwillmydarling]

Logan with a supe ! girlfriend whose eyes begin to glow when she has an orgasm :P

"m'close," you mewl as you claw at his wrist, your thighs tremble around the heel of the hand that's fucking you. He drops his head to suck a bruise into your neck - nothing ever stays due to the compound v in your cells - but Logan leaves his mark.

Your thighs clamp down around his hand - muscles starting to shake at the overstimulation - as he curls his fingers. "Cmon pretty girl," he croons. "keep those eyes open f'me."

He can feel your eyes, long lashes tickling the skin. "oh- oh my god," you let out a strangled moan, followed by a sharp beam from your eyes.

"Atta girl."

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober Day 1: Borrowing a Jacket

Logan Howlett x Reader

WC: ~0.7k

a/n: I loved doing flufftober last year so I thought I'd give it a shot again this year, expect 31 days of cozy vibes and hot men <3

warnings: none

CozyTober divider credits @strangergraphics

The grounds of the X-Mansion are gorgeous in the fall. The shift in colors bathes the garden in a visual warmth unmatched by the other three seasons of the year. Walking the well-worn paths in the morning light gives you a sense of peace that you have yet to find anywhere else. 

You clutch your mug in between your hands and continue your stroll, past the small pound and under the canopy of trees. The beverage warms you from the inside out and in this moment you feel content. At this moment there are no yelling children. No bickering adults. There is no mission to go on or mutant to save. There is just you, and the trees, and the wind, and the birds. 

You stand at the edge of an expansive clearing, staring out into the trees on the other side, and think. You think about important things like your friendships and your plans for the future and you think about not-so-important things like what to have for dinner and whether or not to do your laundry today. But like always your thoughts seem to drift to the man you left sleeping in bed this morning. 

You can’t exactly pinpoint the moment when Logan took over your thoughts, perhaps it was after he kissed you for the first time, and you felt suddenly alive after years of going through the motions. Or maybe it was when your realized just how well the two of you clicked, when he moved into your room and everything was so delightfully easy. Or maybe there wasn’t a specific moment, maybe it was a collection of moments that slowly took over your brain until you couldn’t go more than an hour without thinking of him and everything that entails.

You're brought out of your musing by rough hands that you know well. Hands that act as a balm to your soul and ground you in the present. Right now, they act as mini furnaces. When did you get so cold? You can feel the goosebumps on your arms but don’t remember feeling them come up. You feel it now though, the slight bite of the wind at your skin.

“Thought I’d find you out here.” The gruff voice of your man drifts on the very wind that stings you.

“I usually am at this hour.” You turn in his hold so that the two of you are chest to chest. You curve yourself against him, he radiates heat and right now you could use some. “Though, you are usually still sleeping right about now.” You mumble into his chest.

“I woke up when you left. You didn’t grab your coat.” His hands rub up and down your back, easing the bumps back into your skin.

You look at him and raise an eyebrow. “You came all the way out here to scold me for not bringing a jacket, and you didn’t bring my jacket with you?” 

“Don’t be stupid. ‘Course I brought a jacket bub.” Logan removes his arms from around you and you lean further into him chasing the heat. You watch though as he shucks off his own corduroy coat and wraps it around you. All he has on underneath is a plain white tee and you scoff. You try to shed the jacket. Insisting that you’ll be fine.

“But you’ll be cold.”

“I promise you that I will survive the walk back. You on the other hand were trembling like a leaf when I got here so.” 

“Well… thank you.” You place a kiss on his cheek and grab his hand. You start pulling him back towards the mansion, not wanting him to be cold for any longer than he has to be.

“Lo?” You breathe into the silence that had settled between you.

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.”

He doesn’t say anything. But he pulls you by your hand closer to him and places a kiss on your head. You feel warm.

[jujutsukatsuki]

Pretty Baby || Alastor x Reader || 18+

I got a request for Alastor with a Female Reader with a praise kink so here i am to abide! I do not support Viv or their actions! || includes: praise kink so MDI!, Fem bodied reader ||

You sat on the couch in the lobby, a book in hand as you snuggled up in a blanket, Alastor had wandered off to god know's where while you were at the hotel listening to Husk and Angel debate something they saw on tv. The door to the hotel opened and in walked your tall dark and creepy beloved. He walked over and gently used his cane to lift your head, the cold steel made your skin shiver as your eyes met his red ones. "Hello my love, what have you done all day?" You smile as he questions you. "Just read and listen to everyone." You hummed as you stood up and looked up to Alastor's face, his gorgeous grin on his lips. "Good girl. Lets take a walk, go get your coat my love." You shivered at his praise, his smirk got a bit more sinister as he noticed. You dashed up the stairs to change, you put on a dress that resembled something women in Alastor's time when he was alive would wear along with a jacket to go over it. Not like you needed one, hell was hot. "There is my pretty baby." Alastor smiled as he offered his arm to you, you took it as you left out the front door of the hotel. A cold shiver ran up your spine at his words.

"Where are we going Ali?" The nickname was silly, but Alastor loved it. "You'll see my love." He hummed as the two of you walked the streets of hell, demons cowering away from Alastor's presence. Soon enough you noticed the sign that read Cannibal Town. "Aunt Rosies?" You asked Alastor who nodded and walked with you into the shop.

"Alastor you old dog!, and the beautiful Y/n! Still look delicious, sure you dont want to give me a taste? Oh im joking!" Rosie giggled as you let out a small awkward laugh and looked to Alastor who brushed it off. "Darling, why don't you go find a new perfume you like." Alastor smiled and let you walk away. You kept glancing at Rosie and Alastor who passed him a box of sorts. You walked back over to where the two sat. "Alright darling, time to go!" Alastor said as he shoved the box in his pocket. "Oh uh-" You didnt have time to say anything as you were whisked out the door by him. The walk home seemed quiet and longer, once at the hotel, you were taken upstairs to the bedroom you two shared. "Alastor, what-"

The box was pulled from his pocket and he opened it, inside was a necklace that held a small pendent of an A. "Oh Alastor!" You cooed as he clipped the necklace to your neck, his fingers lingering on your skin. "Youre always such a good girl, i figured you were owed a present for all your understanding of my deals and being gone often." You let out a small gasp at his words, his hand still on the back of your neck. He spins you around and grabs your chin. "Good girl." He whispers, letting the radio filter leave his voice. "Alastor.." You mumble and squeeze your thighs together, he was playing a dangerous game. He may be the powerful radio demon with hundreds of souls under his belt, but you. You were the one who was starving for his affection and wouldnt stop until you were satisfied. "What darling? I cant help it. Youre my pretty girl." He guides you to your knees, his red eys staring to your own. "Such a good girl." He pets your hair, his fingers running through your hair. "Now, keep being my pretty, perfect girl and open that pretty mouth of yours." He grinned, it was going to be a very, very long night.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Obsessed with your blog! Can you write a Jason Todd x reader where it’s reader’s birthday and Jason doesn’t know until someone calls her saying happy birthday

Late Birthday

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 0.7 K summary: Jason tries his best to be romantic warnings: fluff a/n: this is such a nice request but i couldn't really come up with anything bombastically nice😭😭 i hope this is still cute and nice and thank you for the request!!!!!!!

The day hadn‘t been too exciting or eventful, it was actually like every other day. Once Jason got home, he did his usual routine of slipping into comfortable clothes and join you in your warm bed. It had been as usual, being snuggled up on top of you, head resting on your chest while listening to your steady heartbeat.

He almost fell asleep on you before your phone suddenly buzzed alive, feeling the subtle movements of you reaching and answer the call. You put it on speaker without any other thoughts, getting spooked again as a loud voice chimes through.

»Good evening! It‘s one in the morning and your birthday, so I— «

You quickly put the call back on quiet, putting your phone against your ear as you listen to your best friend ramble off her birthday wishes to you. Jason only processes the words seconds later, lifting his head off your chest to watch you intently.

He doesn‘t take his eyes off of you, even after you hang up the call after saying some thanks to your best friend. You carefully put your phone back away, meeting his eyes again. Finally, he speaks up.

»It‘s your birthday?«

He sounds betrayed. Actually, even hurt at this point. It makes you feel guilty, rubbing his back lightly in attempt to keep him calm… or rather yourself.

You nod lightly in response, still afraid of his reaction. In all honesty, you even forgot it‘s your birthday in the first place and didn‘t plan on telling him either way. It didn‘t make sense to you, celebrating some day felt wasteful.

He sighs out softly and shifts off of you, pressing a small kiss against your forehead before getting off the bed completely.

»Wait, where are you going?«

You sit up, confused and getting a little nervous about his sudden action. Is he really this disappointed?

»Just remembered I have some business left to do. I‘ll be back in a sec.«

Jason answers back casually, flashing you a soft smile as he puts his jeans back on and leaves your room. You are left alone for now, laying back and decide to wait patiently and not worry about it.

As you‘re distracting yourself with your phone for a few minutes, you finally hear the keys jingle at the front door, slipping out of your bed to see Jason again. He appears inside, his back still to you while he takes his shoes off. Without wasting another second, he turns around and reveals the colourful boquet of flowers in his hand. A smaller plushie in his other hand, a charming grin written all over his face.

»Happy birthday.«

He huffs out with a small shrug, making you melt on spot. That sweet gesture is enough to make you fall for him even harder and make you overwhelmed with feelings. The next thing Jason sees is your flustered smile, then you rosy cheeks, and how you hug him tightly. He hugs you back as best as possible, hands still full with the boquet and plushie.

Of course, the flowers aren‘t world class or expensive, but flowers are still flowers. He probably sprinted to the closest gas station and searched for the sweetest thing he could think of, without being overbearing.

He didn‘t ask any questions on why you didn‘t tell him beforehand, considering he also has his reasons on keeping his birthday as secret as possible. The night ends up with you two drinking some wine together with a shitty movie on the TV, snuggled up under a blanket on the couch. The flowers rest in a vase on the coffee table, actually paying more attention to them than the movie.

It feels like the best birthday you‘ve ever had. Being together with Jason with some wine and cosy movie night is probably the best way to spend the night. The way his hand traces slow circles around your back, how soothing his breath feels against the top of your head. How domestic this feels like. Jason can‘t stop thinking about you during this moment. He isn‘t used to things feeling so domestic and loving, but he finds himself wishing this night won‘t end.

a/n: sorry for making this short, but i do have some things going on rn..... i'm starting to believe the fanfiction writers curse is real. hope you enjoyed it, the next few fics are going to be longer and more intersting! promise!!

←MASTERLIST

[aspiringtrashpanda]

✨MC teaches the brothers about "jinx"✨

“I’m kinda hungry,” you voiced, your Curses and Hexes homework doing little to retain your attention. 

Mammon snorted in response, not bothering to look up from his D.D.D. “Who are ya? Beel?”  

You waited a second before retaliating, hoping that someone would come to your defense. Alas, it seemed that the brothers lounging around you had long learned to tune out any word from Mammon’s lips.  

“I have basic needs like all of you too, you know,” you huffed, gesturing to the Avatar of Gluttony, cross-legged on the carpet next to you.  The warmth from the fireplace at your backs cast flickering light over the crinkled chip bag in his massive hand. “Eating isn’t trademarked by Beel.” 

Beel grunted, sharp snaps sounding from the rhythmic churn of his jaw.  

Levi’s handheld console let out a chime that signaled some sort of victory. “It’s only, like, his whole personality lmao.” 

Beel’s chewing paused, but Asmo swooped in first. “There’s more to Beel than food,” he cooed, “I mean, look at those sculpted muscles! He’s also the most handsome little brother~ ♡ ”  

“Gee, thanks Asmo,” grumbled the lump of blankets on the couch.  

“Aw Belphie, don’t be like that! I like your slender physique, too!” 

Somehow, the mound of linens seemed to shudder in distaste. Asmo only shrugged, losing himself in his hand mirror.  

“Asmo is right though,” Satan hummed, turning the page of his current book – A Comprehensive Guide to the Devildom’s Most Toxic Plants, “To define Beel as solely a glutton does little to recognize all his positive characteristics.”  

Beel swallowed, before flashing a dazzling beam. “Thanks, Satan.”   

The living room fell silent once more, save for Beel’s snacking and the crackling of the hearth.  

“Hey!” You thought you’d try again. “Know what I could go for right now?” 

You paused for anticipation, readying your answer. 1, 2, 3 and... 

“Hell’s Kitchen.” 

Your spine went ramrod straight, eyes locking onto Mammon in the split second after your voices had harmonized.  

“Jinx!” You gasped, “You owe me a soda!”  

“Huh?” Mammon blinked owlishly.  

“Jinx!” Your enthusiasm was lost on your company. Your neck cracked as you glanced from brother to brother, your grin dampening when they looked at you as though you’d grown a second head.  

Satan frowned. “What are you talking about?” 

“Is that some normie saying?” Though he sneered, there was curiosity in Levi’s eyes.  

“You don’t have jinx here?” You barreled onward, explaining, “It’s a game we play in the human world when two people say the same thing at the same time.” 

“How does it work?” Asmo pursed his lip, which only drew his attention to his shade of lip gloss, his mirror capturing his eyes once more.  

You shrugged, “There are various versions of the game. Sometimes, the loser can’t speak until they buy the victor a drink. Other times, they’re silenced until their name is uttered aloud 3 times.”

Mammon lunged forward, toppling off the couch as he rushed on all fours to where you sat on the carpet. Before he could protest, eyes wild with a mix of fear and anger, you placed a finger to his lips. 

“Nope! Not ‘til you buy me a Devil Cola!”  

“LOL!” Levi rejoiced, “Mammon, you’re such a n00b!” 

You weren’t the only one who noticed the way Mammon’s eyes brightened, Satan chiding, “Watch it. You can’t say his name or he’s freed, remember?” 

“Oh~ I wonder how long he can hold his tongue?” Asmo giggled, finally distracted from his mirror. You couldn’t blame him. Mammon’s expression was a cross between anguished and constipated.  

His jaw clenching, slivers of his teeth glinting through curled lips, you could feel the irritation radiating from the Avatar of Greed. Absently, you considered if you should tell him it wasn’t an actual curse. Did he know there was no power other than himself silencing him?  

“Can he eat?” Beel inquired, genuine concern mingling with sympathy as he watched his older brother straighten up and march towards the entrance hall.  

“You don't need to speak to eat,” Belphie's muffled voice reasoned beneath the blankets.

“HEY MAMS!” You called to his back, shoulders curled up to his ears in anger, “Buy me a Devil Cola, won’t you?"

And really, you hadn’t expected him to follow through at all. He left the room and you returned to your homework. Beel continued eating, Belphie continued sleeping, and Satan continued reading for the sole purpose of poisoning Lucifer, you were sure. 

About thirty minutes passed before you heard the door to the Hall of Lamentation creak open.  

“No way!” Asmo squealed, a shutter sounding before Mammon could sprint to the couch and swat the D.D.D. from his freshly manicured hands.

Your jaw hit the floor as you looked up at the second born, at the condensation dripping down the can of soda that he thrust in your face. A petulant pout only brightened his blush, the way his eyes looked anywhere but you. The red tint to his skin darkened as his brothers laughed, jeered, teased him.  

The least you could do was offer him some praise. You smiled with all your teeth, “Thanks Mammon! The jinx is lifted.” 

He scowled, waving off your gratitude with an unnecessarily noisy exhale. With his newfound freedom, he instantly started pestering Asmo, critiquing his most recent Devilgram selfies. As your heart swelled with affection, the words in your textbook falling on blind eyes too occupied by the tiniest movements of your family, you felt completely at ease.  

You didn’t think you needed to elaborate, to clarify that you had used your pact and that there was no real magic behind the jinx. 

However, when you entered the House of Lamentation two weeks later, you realized you had been very wrong. 

The living room was a disaster, pillows tossed this way and that, candle wax oozing across something that looked suspiciously like a summoning circle. Splintered wood littered the carpet, broken chairs in a mangled pile next to the hearth. You were pretty sure you could smell something burning.  

You nearly dropped the bag of groceries in your arms, Beel stock still at your side. One look at your shopping buddy told you he had no idea what was going on, concern blazing to life in his purple eyes. 

“Lucifer?!” He called out, immediately seeking reassurance. 

Instead of the eldest’s smooth drawl, you were met with an incomprehensible shriek from somewhere in the kitchen. A clatter of pots and pans. A crash.  

Belphie came sauntering into the room, nodding in greeting. “The jinx didn’t work.” 

“What?!” You gawked, surveying the damage to the room, “What is going on?!” 

“He could still talk!” Satan fumed, stomping out of the kitchen with his bony tail lashing back and forth, “So I cursed him, but then that asshole reflected it, and it hit Asmo instead.” 

Sure enough, a completely drenched Avatar of Lust was next to appear, his mouth moving a mile a minute and yet, not a single sound to be heard. He tossed his hands in the air, hissing something fierce before flicking a wet strand of hair from his face.  

“And Asmo tried to charm Mammon to speak for him,” Satan was still ranting, “but Mammon tried to charge him for his services, which then set Levi off about repayment with interest.” 

You hugged the groceries tighter to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut as you realized you knew exactly what was happening in the kitchen. You heard the roar, the rumble of the house’s foundation, the continuous rush of water drowning out twin shouts you had heard far too many times before. 

But not as many times as the one voice that rose above them all.  

“MAMMOOOON?!” 

You winced. You’d have to buy your first a Devil Cola later.  

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

technically mammon was the one to provoke levi to summon lotan, so rip buddy. but let's be real, they're all getting punished.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. READ MORE HERE.

[gigi-loveless]

first pool day of the summer and thinking about…

pervy!neighbor!ellie peeking through the cracks in your fence, just to get a glimpse of your sun kissed body. the way your tanning oil gleams against your radiant skin, bikini hugging your ethereally built curves. bubbly giggles popping in the breeze as you gossip with one of your friends. when she sees the seltzer can in your grip, how the condensation trickles down your delicate hands, the auburn girl can’t help but rub her sticky thighs together, selfishly wishing that was her slick instead.

requests are open!

[hayw1res]

a small drabble bc im thinking about nanami kento..

18+ MINORS DNI

imagine university au , teachers assistant, nerdy and needy nanami who cannot keep it in his pants! hes such a loser that when you two have your private tutoring sessions he cant stop looking down your v neck shirt everytime you answer one of the questions..

nerdy perv nanami who has a secret folder in his phone of quick pictures of under your skirt , in between your chest and some just stand alone pictures of you smiling or reading a book

pervy nanami who uses those pics to get off in his dorm room, his mind goes wild with imagination that he almost feels your cunt on his leaky cock.. he silently thanks his old roommate for moving out so early , he can whine and moan in peace

nerdy nanami who celebrates with you when you pass your chem exam, you two and a few other friends drink a little to relieve stress and relax after midterms , poor nanami was a bit of a lightweight..

pervy nanami who takes you to the bathroom with him, rutting his clothed cock against your thighs.. whimpering and begging for you to just let him have this

“please , o-oh god please please y/n-”

hes practically drooling down your exposed shirt as he ruts inbetween your thighs like a horny dog, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you there , your hands bracing yourself on the bathroom sink- his thrusts were sloppy.. that of a virgin at least.

that night he took you back to his dorm, forgetting about his own virginity for a moment he leads- or tries to but fails the moment you rake your fingers through his hair - tugging at the ends to correct his position with you

“y-yes ill do it right next time, please- please let me in- let me inside of you-“

hed beg and beg until you allowed the loser virgin to slide inside of you.. it was always the quiet ones they say- the stretch was something you hadnt expected . he barely gives you time before hes fucking into you at an unkept pace.. just wanting to get his cock as far inside of you as possible.. his face buried in your tits he moans and whines you name over and over again.. his stamina must be high- the way hes cum inside you almost 3 times already.. but continues to bully his cock inside of you regardless of the overstimulation.. determined to make you cum all over him until hes milked dry.

sigh.. i love nanami kento.

[mimisplayground]

uh-oh guys did i flop???

anyways ghost whines when he gets overstimmed and he probably pants in your ear while hes fucking you! and if you try to push his face away he doubles down and is fucking you while leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your face neck and shoulders. and he bites.

[mossyvil]

vil allowing himself to be vulnerable with you is taking over my brain so bad

he’s a celebrity, his life is on full display for everyone to see, so it makes sense he has to keep up this “perfect” image of himself as to not show the entire world he isn’t who they think he is

but i think that if vil gets into a relationship with you, he trusts you unconditionally. it opens him up to potentially career ruining damage if he were to let someone get close, so allowing you to be with him is the ultimate sign of trust- and with that trust he lets you see him.

not the perfectly done up flawless version- the raw, true version of vil that only you get to see. he forgoes makeup when you’re alone together, in favor of being bare-faced and letting you truly see him. he laughs freely, not bothering to cover his mouth like he usually does. you can get him to tell you how he feels, what’s bothering him that he has no one else to tell.

the first time he lets himself go to you he feels scared- everyone has always only ever seen the version of himself he’s meticulously crafted over his years in the spotlight, and someone seeing him for who he actually is feels like he’s putting himself on display for the world, but after countless nights of shit-talking your fellow students together and allowing him the freedom of trusting someone so much- it becomes his favorite thing in the whole world

pt 2

[chuuyasfanboy]

Happy new year! This popped into my head on my way home from a party, so I figured I better write it LOL

Can you tell I'm still figuring out my blog formatting-

"I'll fuck you into next year."

Dazai x GN!Reader

Sex with Dazai comes in two forms. And more often than not, it's wholly unserious. Sure, on certain events (Birthdays, Valentine's day, Anniversaries, etc.) he goes out of his way to be romantic. But casual banging, on New Year's Eve no less? You can't possibly expect him not to crack some jokes.

Not that it doesn't feel good. No, no. Your legs are pushed against your chest in a mating press, and he's reaching so deep inside you that you think you might explode. Grunts and moans fill the room alongside a melody of skin against skin. But in-between groans and kisses planted so gently on your neck, Dazai's doing nothing but laughing. You aren't fairing much better.

"God, I'm gonna fuck you all the way into the next year, you hear me?"

11:49; he wasn't too far off from that goal. And while your stamina was nothing compared to his, he was sure you could make it just ten more minutes. Right? You were practically made for him, after all.

11:58; he pulled away for only a second, just enough time to adjust the display of your bedside clock, the seconds now counting down below the hours and minutes. As he pressed back inside you, his gaze remained firmly in place on the clock, freeing a hand from holding your thighs to instead cares your cheek, grinning.

And when the clock begun to ding, he let out the most animated moan he could manage, suddenly shifting to act like a man starved.

"Oh, baby, I feel like I haven't had you all to myself since last year~!"

This is what you get for choosing to date Dazai. But is he worth it? Absolutely, yes.

[cozywolvie]

hii, i was wondering if u could do a fic of logan nd wade with a sunshine reader ^_^ like an overly happy and energetic person ig. IF THAT MAKES SENSE LOL. i don’t see too many fanfics with sunshine readers… or at least when i look. not sure if u have gotten many requests yet but hopefully this isn’t a bother to u!! u can add smut or smth if u want. u seem super cool and hopefully u have a fun time writing this if u do :3 have a great day or night!!

a/n: yayy! my first request! thank you sm for requesting and you are not a bother at all. I really hope this is somewhat of what you wanted. this is straight fluff and cuteness, so I hope you enjoy!

-

You have always been a morning person. You loved watching the sky turn different shades of yellow and orange as the sun rose, and you loved having a cup of coffee while watching it. However, your boyfriends couldn’t disagree more with you.

Here you are, laid out on the back porch, wearing one of Logan’s plaid flannels, baking in the rising sunlight as it goes over the horizon. A warm cup of coffee is settled in between your fingers, and you grip it tightly, loving the warmth it gave you on this crisp morning.

While you laid out here, Wade and Logan lay inside sound asleep in your shared king size bed. They always love to tease you about your chirpiness and happiness, especially in the morning. They couldn’t get around the fact that they both were somehow able to fall in love with a person so opposite of them, especially Logan.

It was around 10 am when you started to hear the two men stir. You were in the kitchen, humming, flipping pancakes on the stove. Logan emerged first from the bedroom, wearing a pair of sweats that hung low on his waist, a flannel hung along his shoulders, underneath was bare, and you tired not to gawk at his figure. He smirks when you see’s you. “Smells good.” He compliments, walking around to your side and placing a long kiss on your temple. You smile, practically leaning into his tender embrace.

“Good morning” You beam back at him. You loved mornings like this, calm, peaceful, anything to get away from the stress of Wade and Logan's crime fighting careers. You offer him coffee, which he leaves black, and sits down at the kitchen table. You continue to hum in content, even dancing to nothing in the kitchen, enjoying the sizzling of the pancake batter on the stove. There was just pure joy and happiness radiating off of you. Logan smiles at the sight.

“Good morning bubbles!” The sound of your other boyfriend radiates the room. Logan groans in discomfort at the loud sound, plugging his ears closed. You giggle at Wade’s nickname. Awhile ago when you three had gotten together, Wade had referred to the three of you were like the powerpuff girls. You, bubbles, because you were always bubbly. Buttercup, Logan, which is pretty self explanatory. And Wade, Blossom, because he claims that he was the captain of your little team.

“Good morning Wade.” You give him peck on the lips, and hand him his coffee, with a shit ton of creamer and four sugars, he loves things sweet. He takes a sip and nods approvingly. “Ah, sweet! Just like my girl.” He gives your behind a cheeky slap and you giggle, swatting him away playfully.

You all sit at the table, munching down on pancakes. Wade drowns his in syrup and Logan cringes at the sight. “You’re gonna get diabetes if you keep doing that.” Logan scowls.

“I already got cancer, I’ll take my chances.” Wade says back, shoving pancakes in his mouth. You grin, rolling your eyes at the pair. Logan eyes your cup of coffee. “Which number cup is that?” He teases.

“My forth.” You grin, taking a sip. Logan chuckles, shaking his head in amusement, “No wonder you’re always so energetic.”

"Nah, it's just the way our girl is." Wade says, sending a wink your way. You grin and try to hide your blush. "I have no reason to be anything else. I've got a good life, a roof over my head, and two incredibly amazing sexy men who are in love with me." You giggle with a wink, watching as both the men smile, making your heart warm.

"About that, thank you." Logan states. You crinkle your brows in confusion, not knowing what he is thanking you for. He see's your confusion, stumbling over his words, becoming flustered. "Well, uh, ya'know-"

"What peanut is trying to say is, that we are grateful for you. You're the light in our lives that we both needed." Wade states, grabbing your hand from across the table. You can't even contain the blush on your cheeks now. If anything, you should be thanking them.

"I'm the grateful one." You say. The boys smile, showering you in love and kisses. The rest of the day is spent with the three of you relaxing in your free time, cuddled up by the two men you love most, all three of your laughters echoing around the small cozy apartment.

[plussizefantasia]

Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest. 

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe. 

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you. 

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment. 

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.” 

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?” 

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?” 

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that. 

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife. 

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time. 

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference. 

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?” 

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?” 

“Our first meeting My Lord.” 

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise. 

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

Part 2

[wyrmarchives]

Main | Navigation | Writing link | Send a Request

Okay but…

What about Simon and intimacy?

MDNI

All I see is writing about Simon being craven like a dog. Ready to bite into flesh, leaving bruises, and carnal marks of his ownership and possession.

Or about how he’s so repressed by his traumas that he’s gentle and soft. That he swings to the extreme one way or another. As if the man would loose control in a situation where he truly feels comfortable, as if he isn’t the Ghost.

Calm, collected, trained. As if he isn’t cracking jokes during stressful missions. As if he isn’t just a man with some shit inside his head.

But what about Simon who does feel comfortable enough to relax? Not that the man would ever give up control over a single situation no matter the circumstance, he’s got it drilled into his head to be on guard. Never be caught where he can’t be in control. But what about when he feels relaxed enough around you to finally not have to have you pinned under him? When he feels comfortable enough to think about his own pleasure outside of “sex is good”? When he rests enough to let you top him, hips rolling lazily to match your pace as his fingers hold comfortably at your hip? Leaving red mark, yet no bruises? Not afraid to hurt you, but he can’t find himself to want to mark you. He’s burly and brutish at work, he doesn’t want to leave a mark on your skin. The same body he finds solace from violence in? It would be blasphemy to his belief.

No. He prefers the temporary darkening red that tints your hue, leaving sign enough that he has you for the time being. He doesn’t need darker shades than that, the strength it would take to be controlled and not actually hurt you would be difficult when he’s used to fighting for his life.

Besides, if he wanted to mark you permanently, he would give you a ring… and he just might.

[alvfr]

hey I saw you're open to requests and I'm so obsessed with your "Accidents" series with Hotch x Reader! I totally get you're taking a break from it atm so feel free to ignore but I'd love a drabble or whatever you're comfortable writing/sharing from the series? Maybe like a snapshot of when they were still figuring things out before they crossed that line or became established.

Thanks so much!

A/N: Aah, it's been so long since I've written for Hotch so I hope I managed something at least. I really tried to keep this short-ish and more of a drabble, but yeah, this would be set after the shower-scene in "Elevators" but before the bonus-part, I guess. Not super exciting maybe, but good practice for me. cw: none? sfw. awkward phone call. fem bau!reader, no use of y/n, part of "accidents" wc: 1.3k

Call me maybe

The first time Hotch called you was around eight in the evening, the day after your team got back from the conference in Florida. While you could not say you had been expecting it — a pessimistic part of you always expected the worst case scenario — your body told a different tale. Every inch of you had buzzed with anticipation since you stepped foot in your own apartment. Making sure to keep your phone charged and unmuted for a change, going as far as keeping it within sight when taking a shower and still checking it religiously every few minutes in case you had missed something. 

You argued with yourself, scolding yourself for waiting around like a lovesick schoolgirl and then berating yourself for doubting his word in the first place. He had said he would call and Hotch did not lie so why were you getting so worked up? 

When the day dragged on, without even paperwork to distract yourself with, you spiraled into increasingly worse scenarios as to why he had not called. He had been called into work, he had lost his phone, he had forgot his charger, he was discovered he was under surveillance by some shady government officials. Or something had happened to him, or to someone he cared about, or something had happened to both him and someone he cared about. Or, and this was simultaneously the best and worst one, he had changed his mind.

So when the call came that night, you had worked yourself into a bit of a frenzy and jumped at the sound of your own ring tone. The display glowed with the name 'A. Hotchner' and you forgot all about basic human behavior, like blinking or even breathing. 

It rang three times before your body bypassed your meddlesome mind and you picked up with the standard greeting of your last name, just in case he was under surveillance somehow. A theory that gained traction with every loaded second where you could not hear anything from the other side.

“Hotch?” you asked and held the phone out to check if the call was still active. In your state, you would not have been all that surprised to find if you had hallucinated the whole thing. “You there?”

“Yes.” The smooth sound of his voice sent rivers of idyll into your veins while your heart threatened to pound out of your skull. “Sorry. Hi.”

A stupid grin overtook your face and you twirled the still-connected charger cable with your fingers before catching yourself. Dropping the cable, you cleared both your throat and face. “Hi.” 

“Hi. Sorry, is this a bad time?”

“No, it’s good.” 

You tried to avoid looking at the mess of your apartment, all chores neglected for the day in case you wound up missing his call. In truth, you’d drop everything in a heartbeat and come over if he asked, although you had no idea where he lived. 

“I mean, I can talk?” You winced at how you had managed to phrase it as a question and cleared your throat again. “What’s up?”

And the award for worst conversationalist goes to this girl right here, you thought with a hefty roll of your eyes. What’s up? What were you, fourteen years old and trying to impress your friend’s older brother?

“Not much,” Hotch admitted from his side of the line and you thought you could detect a hint of gratitude in there. “Just finished up some overdue paperwork.”

“San Joaquin county?” you guessed, knowing without a doubt how much paperwork that case still generated. 

“Parts of it, yes. There’s also the budgets, protocols and various administration memos I’m forced to have an opinion on.” A slight pause and you caught a slight intake of breath on his side. “I didn’t call to talk about work.”

You forced yourself to keep your breaths slow and controlled instead of shivering as you knew they’d be. “Okay.”

“How are you?” The tenderness in his voice wreaked havoc with your inner organs and you could imagine his expression. The tilt to his eyebrows that matched the tilt of his jaw where he looked up, resting his eyes on whatever was near the ceiling to the left of him. “You get home okay?”

“Safe and sound. You?”

“All in one piece.” 

A silence stretched on for an uncomfortable few heartbeats and you wracked your brain for something worthwhile to say. It was uncharted territory to talk to him casually like this. No time crunch forcing you to keep the small talk to a minimum and no risk of getting caught forcing you to speak in code. Neither did your forte lay in phone calls and, as the profiler you were, you wished you could have had his facial expressions and mannerisms to reveal more of his thoughts during the conversation. The same probably went for him, you realized and it made you breathe a little easier.

“What did you think of the conference?” he asked just as you were about to say something completely different.

“Uh…” Your brain did a full reboot to no avail. “Are you asking about the actual conference or—”

“The actual conference,” he clarified and you thought you could hear the smile in his voice. “Did you catch the mass-shooting response training?”

“I did and it was okay, I guess, even if it felt a little dated.” You wandered around in your apartment, needing to get rid of the built-up excess energy. “Doesn’t this count as work talk though?”

“You’re right. Sorry, I’m,” you heard something brushing against the microphone, maybe him dragging a hand over his forehead, “not very good at this. I, uh, wanted to call to reiterate that I fully understand if you’ve changed your mind about this.”

“I haven’t.”

The words came out faster than you had anticipated, some part of you determined to deny him any possibility of doubt. 

“I’m really glad you called, Hotch.” You did a few test-runs at yourself in the mirror and corrected yourself to: “Aaron.”

“Good. I’ve been working up the nerve to do so for the past hour.”

Again, you could imagine his expression. The slight secretive smile, his head now tilted downward, exposing more of his neck to the room.

“Well, I’ve been waiting for it since I got home last night.” You tried to match his unabashed honesty, the need to convince him that you wanted this still present. “If that makes you feel any better.”

“A little,” he murmured and you could almost feel how he settled in wherever he was, maybe lounging back against the couch or chair, getting comfortable and the phone scratched again as he shifted it around. “What kind of movies do you like?”

The question blindsided you and you blinked at your own reflection in the mirror. “Uh, I’m omnivorous really. Why?”

“I’m looking through the show times for Friday night. I was hoping you would like to go see a movie with me, if we don’t get a case.”

“Oh.” Your stupid grin returned tenfold and you absentmindedly twirled the charging cable again. “Well, then I really like the movie that is playing this Friday night.”

In the end, you settled for a title and time, both of which would be rescheduled over and over again because of a case getting in the way. It took you a month to go see a movie together, but it did not really matter. By then, you had talked on the phone every night you were off a case (and sometimes he called you from a hotel room that were just a few doors down the hall from yours to say good night when you were on a case.) A torturous slow pace, maybe, but well worth it in your opinion.

-----

Thank you for the request!

If you want to read the rest of the series, it is on AO3 here (E-rated)

Let me know if you liked it, thank you for reading ❤️