#I don’t get worried. I just wait to see how the storms start out and judge from there

[psychoticwillgraham]

first real round of severe weather today let’s gooo!!!

[empresskylo]

of fucking course simon riley has your location on. he needs to make sure you're safe. likes to keeps tabs on you. he says he’s completely normal about it, but that is a lie--he obsessively checks it.

and he knows all your common locations: your apartment, your friend’s place, the grocery store, the target you like to go to. so when he sees you at a random address one evening, your little marker on the map not moving,--meaning you’re not just driving past--he raises a brow. he immediately texts you. and when you don’t respond, he’s calling you.

and when you don’t answer… he’s in his truck faster than he thought he could move, beelining it straight for your mysterious location.

and when he pulls up in front of someone’s house, watching as you walk out the front door, laughing at something the man trailing you says, he’s furious. he was worried you might have been hurt. in a sticky situation. but cheating on him didn’t even cross his mind.

he storms out of the truck and you look at him with a gasp. “simon? what’re you doing—?”

“who the fuck is that?” he demands, gesturing to the guy behind you.

“simon…” you say exasperated. “i told you yesterday I was meeting up with friends to plan her bachelorette party.”

his eyes soften slightly, but he’s still reaching for you, hands wrapping around your arms. “doesn’t answer my question.”

“this is her childhood friend.” he glares over your shoulder at him, like he doesn’t believe you. like he wants to kill him. “her gay childhood friend.” you add, hands on your hips, a little annoyed he’d embarrass you like this.

when he hauls you into his truck, he takes a few beats before he apologizes. “m’sorry, love. you weren’t answering your phone and when i saw you at some random—“ he stops mid-sentence as he glances over at you in the passenger seat, expecting you to be glaring at him, ready to tear him a new one. but much to his surprise, you’re taking your shirt off.

“what’re you doing?” he asks, his hands tightening on the wheel to stop from reaching over and touching you.

“that was the hottest thing you’ve ever done,” you whisper, a little embarrassed to admit it. but protective simon? the simon who was ready to beat a guy up just for making you laugh? yeah, that turned you on even if it shouldn’t.

he’s thankful it’s nighttime so no one driving past can see you topless in his truck. he’s also thankful the roads are rather empty this late on a weekday.

“wait till we get home, yeah?” he asks, his voice strained.

you shake your head. “simon, please,” you whine. “i can’t wait.”

he groans in his throat, knowing your place is only 5 more minutes away. he’s already hardening in his pants, and he’s tempted to pull over and drag you into the back seat. but he doesn’t. instead, he reaches his large hand and slides it over your thigh, his eyes on the road as he pushes your skirt up. and you bite your lip, holding back a moan as he rubs you over your underwear. “so fuckin’ wet,” he says astonished.

you buck your hips up and he almost laughs. you weren’t kidding, you really couldn’t wait. he slips his fingers past your panties and dips them into your heat and you grab the door of the car for support, shutting your eyes. he starts a steady pace, his fingers making obscene sounds as they fuck you. you groan and mewl and simon worries he might not make it home either.

it takes you just about a minute to climax, your heat pulsing rapidly around his two fingers, earning a growl from simon. “fuckin’ hell, love,” he breathes, amazed at how fast and hard you came. loving that it was all because of him.

he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex and he’s storming around to your side, trying to get you to put your shirt back on, desperate to get you inside. he hauls you over his shoulder, his hand resting on your skirt so no one accidentally gets a free show. “naughtily little thing,” he hums to himself. “can't wait to properly punish you.”

cod masterlist

[imaginedisish]

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This took way longer than expected, and I also sort of got carried away...Hope it still lives up to the requester's expectations (I also saw that the anon asked for fluff...and this ended up being fluff and smut...hope that's okay). Def some errors...I only proofread twice. This one is also inspired by "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby" by Cigarettes After Sex. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan's kindness towards you is strictly friendly. Until it's not just friendly anymore...

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! Unprotected PIV, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms (uh, they're outside...), grumpy!Logan, cursing, major angst, comfort, fluff, references to canon typical violence/death/conflicts, f!reader/afab!reader (reader has hair at the nape of her neck but no description of length/texture/color), mutant!reader, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,662 my back hurts

It had been a long day. Every day was a long day. There were the kids to worry about, and then there was the rest of the world. There’s a war coming, you see it everywhere you look, and hear it everywhere you go. The news. The papers. The kids whispering in hushed echoes late at night when you’re walking the halls sleeplessly. You don’t want a war. You want a life. 

The mansion is still bustling—it always is—but it’s slowly winding down. You listen as kids walk up the stairs in waves, heading into their bedrooms for the night. You know you should too, but you like it when the mansion gets quiet. You like knowing that everyone is safe, tucked away. You like it when no one else is around—when you can be alone, the stillness and quiet of a dark and sleeping house cradling you like a mother.  

You find yourself in one of the living rooms, the T.V. still on, playing reruns of a cartoon you recognize from years ago. You smile as laughter erupts from down the hall, the padding of small feet echoing along the floorboards and the sound of much heavier boots following close behind. 

“Hey! Watch it!” A grumpy, familiar voice shouts as kids run past the doorway to the living room, giggling mischievously. “Fucking kids.” You turn towards the sound of Logan’s voice as it bounces off the walls, his frame entering the doorway. 

He has a plate of cookies in one hand and a glass of milk in the other as he strides over to you. 

“Hi,” you say sheepishly, smiling up at him. He’s in his beater and his jeans and that leather jacket that hugs him just the right way. You try not to think about how good he looks as he places the plate and the glass down on the coffee table in front of you. Friends don’t think about friends like that, and that’s all you two are: friends.

“Thought you might want a snack,” he mumbles, pointing to the cookies. “And maybe someone to talk to. You’ve got that look on your face.”

You roll your eyes, staring at him incredulously. “What look?”

“That sleepy, stressed face you make,” he starts, walking around the coffee table and taking the spot on the couch right next to you. “When you’re listening to everyone, making sure they’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching for a cookie. Logan sits up and grabs the glass of milk, extending it out to you. “Really, I am,” you promise, but you know he can tell that you’re lying. 

You take the glass from him, and his hand falls to your thigh. The feeling of his skin against yours is intoxicating. He works his jaw and opens his mouth. “What’s going on—”

“Logan?” Storm cuts him off, standing in the doorway. Her gaze is focused on Logan’s hand resting on your thigh. “Did you make tea?”

His eyes flicker between you and Storm. You tilt your head, waiting for his response. “Yes,” he answers, his hand lifting from your thigh as he stands. The spot is suddenly cold. You want to grab his hand and yank him back down. 

“Well, the water is about to boil,” she says, smirking as the kettle begins to whistle. 

Logan mutters a quick shit under his breath as he prowls out of the living room and down the hall to the kitchen. Storm giggles as she watches him, shaking her head. She squints at the cookies and milk, and then at you. You nervously place the milk back down on the coffee table.

“Wow,” is all she says, her arms crossing her chest as she leans against the frame of the doorway. You can hear Logan shuffling around the kitchen, closing cabinets and cursing. “All this for you, huh?”

Your jaw drops just a bit at her words, their meaning instantly smacking you in the face. “O-oh, no,” you stutter defensively. “It’s not like that.” 

The conversation quickly ends as Logan walks into the living room with a cup of tea, passing Storm and heading to the couch. He sits down next to you and places the tea in front of you. The tag of the tea bag hangs over the side of the mug, steam wafting off the top.  

“You like tea, right?” He asks as you lean over and grab the warm mug in your hands. The heat feels good, but not as good as when his hand was on your thigh. 

You nod, swallowing those feelings down as you blow into the cup to cool the hot liquid inside. “Thanks, Logan.” You smile, and he smiles back. 

Storm is still in the doorway, a soft laugh stuck in her throat. “I’ll leave you two alone.” And before you can protest, she’s gone, her heels clicking down the hardwood floors of the hallway. 

Alone now with Logan, you can’t help but feel nervous. You bring the mug to your lips and finally take a sip, the hot tea dripping down your throat. Was Storm right? No. This is just a friend looking out for a friend. There’s no deeper meaning. So what if Logan brought you cookies and milk? So what if he made tea for you? He’s just being nice, kind, caring. That’s what he always is…to you at least. Maybe only to you—

“Hey, everything okay?” Logan’s voice yanks you back to reality, his palm suddenly warm on your thigh again. You jump at the sensation, accidentally spilling tea on Logan’s hand and all over your thighs. 

“Shit,” you mutter, the liquid stinging just a bit against your bare skin. “I’m so sorry,” you say, placing the cup down on the coffee table. When you look back up, Logan is gone. You can hear scuffling in the kitchen again, drawers opening and slamming closed. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Logan?” Scott’s voice chastises in the distance. 

Logan scoffs, his footsteps echoing against the tile floors. “Fuck off, Summers,” he chides, and you can’t help but laugh at their bickering. 

“Think that’s funny?” Logan teases, suddenly in front of you. He rushes over, kneeling next to you. He has a towel in his hand. “You okay?” He asks. “Anything hurt?”

You shake your head from side to side. “Nope, all good,” you say, grinning, ready for him to pass you the towel. But he doesn’t—he’s cleaning you up himself. 

He rubs the towel gently across your thighs, sopping up all the tea. His touch is soft and careful. You can feel heat rise to your chest at the closeness—the intimacy of it all. You take a deep breath, struggling to calm your heart as he takes his time taking care of you. 

“You sure you’re alright?” He whispers, his eyes suddenly searching yours. The towel hikes up a bit further, the tip brushing against the hem of your shorts. You’re dizzied by his touch, by the comforting way he smiles up at you as he lets the towel fall to the side. Both of his hands are on you now, one on each thigh. His thumbs brush soft shapes into your skin. 

Just friends, you say to yourself. Just friends just friends just—

“Hey gu—oh,” Bobby stutters, standing in the doorway with Peter. “S-sorry to interrupt. We didn’t mean to—”

“What do you two want?” Logan cuts him off, his hands slipping off your thighs as he stands to face the boys. You can hear the gruff annoyance in this voice. “No privacy in this goddamn mansion,” he mutters under his breath so low you almost don’t hear it. 

“Charles told us to come get you, Logan,” Bobby continues nervously. “He has to talk to you about something.” 

Logan groans, irritated as ever. “Fine. Tell him I’ll be there in a second.” 

Bobby and Peter nod, too nervous to say anything else, and walk away. Logan is still standing in the same spot. You can tell he’s thinking, contemplating something. 

“You better go,” you say, cocking your head towards the hall. “Can’t keep the professor waiting,” you joke. You watch as the corner of his mouth twitches up. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the sight of turning his frown into a smile. 

He turns his body so that he’s completely facing you. His throat bobs as his hands curl into fists at his sides. He looks like he’s holding back, resisting—but what? You can’t quite tell. 

“Logan?” Charles’ voice calls from down the hall. 

“I wanna see that plate clean when I get back,” Logan finally says, pointing to the cookies. 

You let out a laugh as he walks to the doorway. “Yes sir,” you pledge, hand on your heart. His smile widens, his eyes grazing up and down your body, as if committing your form to his memory. What you’re seeing can’t be right; it has to be an illusion. You almost think he doesn’t want to leave you—can’t leave you. His feet are planted on the ground, his arms tucked against his chest. 

He opens his mouth, but the Professor interrupts him before he can get a word in. “Logan!”

Logan steps out of the doorway impatiently, fists still clutched at his side. “Meet me on the lawn in thirty minutes, okay?” he huffs out, walking down the hallway towards Charles’ voice before you can give him an answer. Charles calls him again. “Yeah, yeah, old man. I hear you!” 

Thirty minutes. Just thirty minutes. You can—absolutely cannot—wait thirty minutes.

God. You are so lovesick.

Twenty-five minutes later you’re sitting out on the lawn, far away from the mansion, waiting for Logan, popping the last cookie into your mouth. 

You lay down on your back, the cold, wet grass sending a shiver down your spine. There’s a light breeze in the air, bending the green blades and the leaves of the trees back and forth. You look up at the stars, imagining just how hot they are, just how bright they can shine. 

“You finished the cookies!” Logan’s voice calls from a few feet away. You sit up, watching the shadow of his form make his way over to you. You can see the smile spread across his face as he reaches your slide, crouching down and sitting next to you. 

“Of course I did,” you say. He’s looking down at you, his eyes flickering across your face. You want to look away, but you can’t. It’s like he’s got you stuck there—he always does. He is the one thing you can’t resist. 

Logan’s shoulder bumps against yours, the sudden warmth reminding you just how cold you are. You shiver, crossing your arms and tucking them into your chest. 

You instinctively and involuntarily lean into his touch, searching for warmth. He catches on to what you’re doing before you do. “Cold?” He asks, shuffling a bit in his spot as he lifts his jacket.   

“O-oh no it’s okay you don’t—” But then he’s taking off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. 

“Better?” He asks, his arm wrapping around your shoulders too, inviting you to lean into him completely.

“Y-yeah,” You stutter, letting your head rest against his chest. You close your eyes, too nervous to keep them open. His jacket smells like him—pine and tobacco and musk. Every breath you take is intoxicating. He’s everywhere, flooding your senses. It’s overwhelming, but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than with him. 

He sighs, his breath fanning against your forehead. “So, what’s the matter?” He asks, tugging you in tighter. 

You shake your head, looking up at him. “Nothing,” you say, doing your best to be convincing. “I’m fine.” But you know it’s no use. He can see right through you. It’s like knowing when you’re lying is part of his mutation.

Logan raises his brows. “You’re stressed.” It isn’t a question, it’s a fact. “I could see it before, when we were inside. I can see it when you’re teaching the kids.” He rubs his hand up and down your arm, the feeling almost distracting you from his words. His eyes search yours for the truth, for an answer. “You can talk to me, darlin’. I’m right here.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as those last three words replay in your mind. You swallow your nerves down, searching for the right thing to say. 

“What if we’re in danger?” You stumble over the sentence quickly, shooting it out into the air like it’s something you’ve wanted to get rid of for a long time. “What if the stupid war they’re always talking about comes, and we aren’t ready?” You can feel your heart racing, tears brimming behind your eyes. 

Logan presses a kiss to your forehead, the warm feeling of his lips unexpected but welcome. “Hey,” he coos, his lips still pressed against your skin. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

A tear slides down your cheek. The words come out like vomit, each syllable slipping off your tongue in rapid-fire succession. “But what if it’s not? What if I can’t protect the kids or the team or you for fuck’s sake?” You can’t stop the floodgates—tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You’re speaking between sobs now. “What if they get to us before we can convince them that mutants aren’t something to be wiped out or some disease to be cured? What if—” 

Logan’s arms wrap around your body, tugging you against his chest, pulling you as close as possible. “I’m not gonna let that happen,” he murmurs. “We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to be okay.” 

“H-how do you know?” You choke, your chest heaving against his. “What if—"

“No more what ifs,” he whispers, his hands rubbing against the leather of the jacket—his jacket—on your back. “No one’s gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Gonna keep you safe, okay?”

“O-okay,” you mutter. “Gonna k-keep you safe, too.” 

Logan hums, the bassy timber of his voice filling your ears, calming your mind. “Don’t worry about me,” he pauses, one hand reaching up to the nape of your neck, rubbing circles into the sensitive skin there. “Just let me worry about you.” 

“Always gonna worry about you,” you say, not backing down. 

You can feel his heart beating against yours. “You don’t have to right now,” he soothes. “Let me take care of you.”

You don’t protest—don’t try to fight him this time. You let him pull you into his lap, let him hold you closer, let him play with the hair at the nape of your neck.  You can feel his lips on the crown of your head. He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been before. He feels so good, so firm and solid underneath you, so steadfast and constant. He’s a lifeline, a necessity. A safe place—asylum. 

It has always been him that you need, and you’d be a liar to say otherwise. 

Logan finally breaks the silence. “What are you thinking about?” He asks.  You, you think. 

“Me?” What? 

“Did I just…” you trail off. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah, you did,” he husks, his hands lowering down your back, slipping under the jacket and your thin t-shirt to the bare skin underneath. His palms are warm, and his touch is tentative, hesitant. “This okay?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, and Logan starts to draw patterns and shapes across your back. “Feels nice.” Your voice is soft and shaky as he explores your skin.  

“I’ve been thinking about you too, you know,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. His nails drag across your back. You move your legs to straddle him. “You’re the only thing on my mind, princess.” He presses his forehead to yours as if to show you, to prove to you that he’s telling the truth. You shudder at the words, at the thought. He presses a chaste kiss to your nose, lowering his lips until they’re just centimeters from yours. 

The world feels frozen. You’ve long forgotten you’re outside, the breeze cutting across the grass. You’ve forgotten about the stars twinkling above you. They’re nothing—just balls of heat burning out millions of miles away. You’ve forgotten about all the hatred you’re forced to face, all the variables and lives at stake in this stupid war. Your mind is calm. Everything is suddenly nothing. 

Everything is him. Logan. 

“Logan,” you mumble. It’s a plea, a prayer, a demand. And he knows exactly what you’re asking for as his name hangs in the air between the two of you. 

His lips crash down onto yours, tasting you, savoring you. But it isn’t languid or slow—it’s rushed, frantic, starving, as if your world is ending; it very well could be. He’s pushing you down onto the grass, his muscular arms on either side of your head, caging you in underneath him. 

“Wanted you this whole time,” he pants in between kisses. “Needed you, couldn’t stop thinking about you. Still can’t.” He pushes the jacket open with one of his hands and hitches your shirt up. He lowers himself onto his forearm as his nails drag up your stomach, settling just under your ribs. He spreads his palm, feeling the expanse of your skin, tracing your curves and the dips of your body.  

“F-fuck,” you stutter, arching your back off the grass and into his chest, offering more of yourself to him. 

He bites your lower lip and kisses the pain away. “You gonna let me take you right here?” He growls, his fingers playing with the hem of your bra. “Gonna let me fuck you outside, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you whine, lifting your hips against his, feeling his erection straining in his jeans. “Need you, Lo.” 

He curses under his breath as he sits up, his hands pawing at the leather jacket, tearing it from your body and casting it aside. You sit up too, keeping yourself close to him. He’s yanking at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. He takes off his beater next, but you don’t get the chance to admire him. Everything is a blur, the throwing of clothes, the way he’s shoving you back down to the grass as his fingers unclasp your bra. The straps fall down your arms, and Logan slips it off the rest of the way. 

He pauses, taking you in, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, lowering himself back down over you, balancing on one forearm as his free hand slides up your stomach, over your ribs, finally settling on your chest. He cups your tits, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over one nipple and then the other. 

“Perfect. You’re so goddamn perfect,” he praises, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then to your chin. He continues his trail down to your jaw, your collarbone, the center of your chest. 

He takes a detour, his lips latching onto your nipple and biting lightly, his tongue flicking out and soothing the ache away. He kisses across the valley of your chest, bringing his mouth to the other side. He flits his tongue across your other nipple, and continues his trail down your stomach, peppering innocent kisses as he travels lower and lower. 

He stops at the hem of your shorts, looking up at you under hooded eyes. You can see the lust, the desire, the need. “Please,” you whimper. And then he’s hastily unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts, wasting no time as he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs and throwing them carelessly into the grass. 

Logan pushes your thighs open. “Keep your legs spread for me, sweetheart.” You can feel his breath on your clit. “Wanna taste you,” he rasps, kissing your core teasingly. “Wanna feel you come on my tongue.” 

And then his tongue is pushing through your folds, lapping at your juices, all the way up to your clit. It’s already too much, your hips lifting off the grass. Logan brings his arm across your hips in response, keeping you down. “Stay,” he grunts, his voice vibrating against your heat. “Don’t know where you think you’re going, princess.” He’s looking up at you now. You can see the desperation and the hunger in his eyes. 

He's starving for you.

He buries his face back into your cunt, swiping his tongue through your folds again before finally settling on your clit. He latches his lips around the bud, sucking harshly. He flicks his tongue out, drawing sweet, sacrilegious circles against your core. 

His free hand climbs up your inner thigh, spreading your legs wider for him. His nails ghost across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He finds his way to your folds, spreading your slick, teasing your entrance. You moan his name as he presses your squirming hips down firmly into the ground. “Doing so good for me,” he breathes against your swollen clit. “Such a sweet fucking pussy.” 

He sinks two fingers deep into your cunt, humming against you, savoring the taste of you. He pumps in and out, deeper every time. “F-fuck Lo,” you cry out, your hands grasping the blades of grass beneath you for purchase. “Feels so good.”

Your walls flutter around him, your muscles already contracting as he works you open. “That’s it, princess,” he huffs, his teeth grazing your clit as he sucks, hard. “Can feel you squeezing my fingers, can feel you getting close.”

“S-so close,” you choke out as he fucks his fingers into you. His pace becomes faster, relentless. He laps at you like he’s a man who has never eaten in his life. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothes. “Come on my tongue, darlin’. Know you can do it.” He’s working you through it, swirling his tongue, flicking your clit, licking thick, hard stripes around the bud. His long fingers scissor inside you, rubbing against your walls deliciously. It’s all too much, but it’s just what you need. “Let go for me, pretty girl.”

You feel your walls contract as the fire in your belly spills. You chant his name—Logan. It’s a prayer—no—a promise. It hangs in the air as you come undone underneath him. His fingers pump in and out of you slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm. He carefully pulls out after a few more thrusts, but his face is still buried in your cunt, still lapping at your swollen, overstimulated clit. 

“Lo,” you whimper, looking down at him. He looks up at you, his tongue licking one long stripe before he stops completely. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your clit as he sits up and unbuckles his belt. “Gonna have to taste that pretty pussy again later, yeah?” He throws his belt to the side and unbuttons his jeans. He slides the zipper down, too, and hooks his fingers inside his jeans, shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs in one quick movement. 

You can make out just how big he is in the moonlight. You swallow at the size of him. He lowers down onto you again, resting on his forearm, guiding his cock towards your entrance. 

He captures your lips in a kiss as he nudges against you, teasing you, spreading your folds open for him. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he coos, kissing you again. “Gonna make you feel good.” 

You wrap your arms around his back, bringing his chest flush to yours. “Need you, Logan. Need you inside me.”

“I know,” he whispers, nudging teasingly against you again. “I know.”

And then he’s shoving himself deep inside you, filling you up. You can feel his cock twitching, throbbing, searching for more of you. He pulls all the way out and buries himself back down to the hilt. 

“F-fuck,” you curse, your nails digging into his shoulders, searching for support. “It’s s-so much. So big.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he husks, setting a slow, easy pace, letting you adjust to the size of him. “Taking me so good.” He’s working you open with every pump, his cock rubbing against your walls and stretching you out. 

Logan brings his free hand between your bodies to your still-swollen clit, stroking gently as he plunges deeper into you, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You moan his name, your chest coming flush with his as you arch your back. The contact feels so nice—just what you needed. He’s fucking you out, pounding into you over and over again. 

He's erasing every fear, every bad dream, every horrible vision you’ve ever had. It’s what he does to you. It’s just him—Logan—always has been and always will be. 

“Such a good girl,” he grunts. “Letting me fuck you out here.” His hips snap against yours—building his pace, growing faster and deeper as he thrusts into you. You can feel yourself growing closer, crumbling underneath him. You can’t last much longer, your walls fluttering around him, squeezing him tightly. 

He moans your name into your mouth, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip, tasting you. “You feel so good, pretty girl,” he groans, rocking into you. “So soft, so tight. Know you’re close.” He flicks your clit, and then circles roughly. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

“G-gonna…” You trail off, a bumbling mess, unable to finish your sentence as Logan fucks into you. 

“I know, pretty girl,” He soothes. “I’m right here, I’ve got you. Come for me.” 

You can’t hold back anymore. You can feel yourself letting go, your walls fluttering around him, taking him deeper, holding him tighter. Your orgasm washes over you, like sun stretching across your skin, like a fire spreading in a forest. It’s all too much, too good. 

Logan isn’t far behind. You can feel his cock twitching deep inside you, his pace faltering, his thrusts becoming sloppier. His fingers leave your clit and travel up your body. His hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he pumps into you, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Wanna come inside you, pretty girl,” he moans, pulling you closer, taking you deeper. 

You nod against his forehead. “P-please,” you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t want you to leave yet.”

“F-fuck,” he growls, your words sending him over the edge as he spills inside you, filling you up. “You’ve idea,” he chokes, “how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” His thrusts slow as he rides out his orgasm, pumping in and out a few more times before pulling out of you. 

He doesn’t break contact—doesn’t rush to get changed. He rolls onto his back and pulls you with him so that your head rests on his chest, your body tucked tightly into his. You can hear his heart beating deep inside—hear his shaky breaths become more stable. The air is no longer cold—the breeze a welcome contrast to the hot summer night air. 

Your legs tangle together. Somewhere in the distance birds sing. A branch creaks. The wind whisks through the grass. You close your eyes and listen. The calm before the storm. This peace can’t last.

“Lo?” You call, breaking the silence. 

He kisses the crown of your head. “I’m right here.”

“I know, but—”

It’s like he can read your mind. “I’m not going anywhere. No one is.” He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer. 

“I’m just scared to lose you, to lose all this.”

Logan presses another kiss to your head. “I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I promise.” 

Nothing’s gonna take you from my side.  

[screampied]

HIHI VEGAS!! HOW ARE YA DOING?!

i’ve had this idea for a while and i was wondering if u could write it!!

trying to get off while your husband (geto or nanami) were gone on a mission that took a few days and you started to get frustrated because you couldn’t no matter how much you tried but little did you know he was standing at the door way to your shared room watching try so hard?! and after he confronted you about it he made you get off multiple times and you even squirted for the first time once or twice?!!

nanami catching you playing with yourself — ★.

cw. fem! reader, husband nanami, brief cunnılingus, praise, first time squırt, mdni. an. hii i’m okay!

with brows frustratingly furrowed and a tangled few fingers of yours curled into your sopping cunt, you whine. it’s been a few days since nanami left for a mission and truth be told—you missed him, dearly. more than anything though, you missed his beloved touch. only your husband knew how to make you moan with something as simple as physical touch. he knew you—more importantly, he knew your body. trembly legs of yours sprawl wide open whilst you’re in the midst of trying to locate your concealed g-spot. alas, it’s so cute because regardless of how many attempts you tried, you could never do it like he could. you’re struggling, coating the entirety of your digits with your slit before you slump back in detestation defeat.

a pout goes against your lips as you swear underneath your breath. yet little did you know, nanami was leaning against the door. “aw, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a soft voice, and you jolt immediately once you realize he’s been watching this entire time. you felt a sudden wave of hotness set against your skin like wind, embarrassment overtaking you. dragging his feet against the wooden floor, he tugs on his tie. “havin’ fun?” and once you pout more, he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead. you shake your head and he chortles. “ohh, i see. poor baby couldn’t even do it right. but don’t worry, kento’s here—let’s pick up where you left off, yeah?”

his words were so so smooth, just his dialogue alone was enough for you to get off. nanami had a way with words for sure. he could say anything in his deep, tantalizing voice and you’d be creaming in an instant. that’s one of the many things he’s always loved about you though.

“o- okay,” you inhale a single sharp breath, having your wrist already bent to a ninety degree angle. two pathetic fingers of yours pull out and he gazes at the soaking mess of a scene. “i know ‘m supposed ‘ta wait ‘till you get home but i was bored, ‘ken. missed you so bad.”

“baby, ‘s okay,” he reassures with a warm smile, grabbing ahold of your wrist.

his touch, you were still a bit sensitive. as his fingers dance against your skin for a few seconds, you felt that familiar throbbing pool of heat introduce itself. a school of pulsing convulsions rupture out of you so haphazardly that it’s almost splitting you from the inside out. you’re panting out of your full, heavy lungs, and that’s when nanami plants a tender kiss near the beloved crown of your head. “missed you more. ‘n don’t worry that pretty head. ‘sides, you know you can call me right?”

“but— but you’d be working,” you mumble, watching as he slowly spreads your legs further.

nanami gingerly brings a hand between your thighs, a thumb stroking against your puffy swollen clit.

swollen to the very entrance, it’s drooling, dribbling sloppily with your anticipating arousal so much that he feels the inevitable tent arise in his slacks. he’d only been watching for a good five minutes—but he couldn’t stand to see his precious baby struggle. the least he could do was teach you right. as you’re still moaning up a storm, you conclude your sentence with a sweet and shaky, “didn’t wanna disturb you.”

“next time, call me,” and his voice was pitchy.

a fair amount of raspy baritone drags around his words before he inches his head down towards your thighs. softly, he grips your left leg before languidly giving your cunt three passionate kisses. those kisses were tender—entirely sloppy, his chin rubs against your folds and you whine, already feeling your arch.

you whimper out his name in pleasure with a featuring hand immediately digging through his mahogany messy strands.

“doesn’t matter if ‘m on my break or not, i’ll always make time for you. if you play with yourself baby—play with her, i wanna hear it too.”

the most kindest eyes meets your gaze for another time—they then flicker down towards your pussy before he swiftly whistles against it. “wheww, she’s all hot ‘n ready, isn’t she,” and speaking of hot, the air feels substantially thick. so thick that you could cut right through the weightless wind with a knife.

nanami lets off a gruff groan, reaching for his pants before yanking down his dress slacks. “sweetheart, i find it cute though. just the image of you not knowing how to finger yourself properly. thought i showed you how, remember?”

with a heaving gasp, your legs were laid all out for him on display as if your body was a canvas. showing off for him as if you were a mere museum piece.

in which—to be honest, you were.

his special, priceless museum piece.

“i— i tried,” you babble, the feverish air of his warm breath aerating against your folds makes you twitch. despite him being so patient and gentle with you—understanding even, he’s still a bit of a tease. he can’t help it. your sharp breathy pants only intensifies the more each millisecond seconds passes and progresses. all the while you’re trying to match your irregular breathing patterns, a clammy hand of yours combs through his umber, unkempt slick back. “can’t do it like you, kento. my fingers are too weak.”

“aw, ‘s okay. guess you jus’ need more training then,” he guffaws with the most kindhearted, gentle expression. that soon fades once you whine, feeling nanami’s plump, perfect lips surprise your cunt with a needy brief nibble.

the moment his rotating tongue swirls against your entrance its over. it’s so slick and,

already . .

you start to coat his chin with your wetness. it’s shimmery, shining against the window pane that had sun ricocheting against the class. so effortlessly pretty. with your quavering legs being all in the air practically, you grind your hips against his face as you’re laid back.

as countless whimpers mercilessly snatch out from your dry throat, you then start to feel the soft fading stubble of nanami’s against your pussy. briefly, it tickles against your skin before it grabs out a louder bundle of moans. the stimulation of his faint facial hair smearing against your entrance makes you pulse more than you’d initially realize. long, lengthy lashes of his flutter shut and as he’s buried between your thighs—seconds go by before he then gathers out two fingers.

his thickset index and a middle finger, both long and you only ached for them to be inside. you didn’t wanna wait anymore— all you knew was that you needed him.

badly, as if your life depended on it.

nanami’s fingers were so slender lengthy, staggering inches. already, you were losing your train of thought . . imagining his long fingers stirring the insides of your cunt, clamping down against your walls. as youre in your own erotic little phantasm, you try to think of it all. nanami praising you how good you’re doing, how soaked you are—even talking you through it in that warm, alluring voice.

as you’re entrapped in your own thoughts, it makes you suck your teeth in wanting desire. your imagery would only soon turn real within a few sloppy seconds.

“stay with me, silly girl,” he purrs, a teasing smile contorting against his lips. it’s a stretch—merely, with a swatting tiny smack against your cunt, you’re brought right back to reality. you moan, trailing your hooded eyes back down at him and he flashes you a warm, innocent smile. prying his mouth away momentarily, he prods an index finger against your entrance— watching as it slowly makes its way in. slowly, it seeps into your drenched cunt and you whine out a mewl. your sweet noises ring through his ears before he inserts another one. nanami mimics a bowling ball grip with his wrist, a low raspy, “oooh,” slithering out of his throat before he gives your pussy another kiss. a french kiss against your folds—deep, sloppy, and strictly passionate. your glutinous slick glosses against his lips—his chin and below, and it’s nothing but a pleasing sight to see.

lewd, but salaciously pleasing,

“seeee. all you had to do, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a hoarse tone.

hearing the sloshing slopping squelches your own cunt makes, he gets more aroused. you’re not helping the growing boner he’s got. still, nanami’s got the perfect angle, it’s almost too perfect.

two hands of yours drag near your neglected breasts—fondling with them as you bite your lip. once the bit skin gnashes against the keen edges of your teeth, you mom again. jerking further back, your lips slither cutely into an ‘o.’ chuckling, nanami then starts to ease both digits in and out. thrust after thrust—he starts off slow so you can adjust. he’s fingered you before, countless times even. but with him, it always seemed like the first time. it was that good.

its rhythm was enticing,

the crazed stimulation has your so brain fuzzy that you could barely comprehend anything but the soft padded tips of nanami’s thick fingers. “my, you’re quite the soaker today,” he continues to speak, and he lolls his tongue against your folds. your taste was his ultimate favorite—no matter how many times he’d get a quick slurp, he was never satisfied.

well—he was, but nanami kento was a perhaps a bit of a greedy man. he always wanted more of you.

every single time,

raising a brow, he grows curious once you suddenly sit up, pulling him towards you.

landing with an oof, he plops flat on his back. a hand runs through his messy hair as he cranes his neck to get a good look at you. you’re so breathtaking when you try to get what you want.

nanami doesn’t even bother to ask any questions, he always finds it cute whenever you try to have your way with him. keyword, try.

“well, excuse me,” and he spots the cute feral look in your dilated irises. you’re needy, still feeling your cunt twitch between your thighs, you crawl towards his lap to straddle him. “hm. w- what’s this?”

“wanna ride you,” was all your quavering lips could ramble out. nanami’s signature cologne scent was loud. as you make your way closer towards him, it was the only thing you could make out. his musk, his known, manly musk that never failed to give you obscene whiplash. nanami glances at the adorably ethereal sparkle in your eyes and his big hands glue onto your hips. sliding your laced panties to the crevices of your thighs, you spring out his weighty cock. “need you, ‘ken.”

“s… so impatient today, huh,” nanami softly smiles, allowing you to feel all over his body. despite him wearing mission clothes still, your hands felt his bulging muscles poke out through the piles of fabric.

once his hardened dick’s out, you moan—leaning into his neck, a hand of yours giving it a few solid pumps. nanami hisses, pulling you closer to him before you arise your jittery hips. “but- but my love,” he swallows, peppering a few kisses near the crook of your neck. “are ya sure you can handle it? you barely—”

“i can take it, ‘ken.”

famous last words—

you said you could take him, but it was the mere opposite. perhaps you’d let your horniness overtake you, because as you’re trying to barrel his fat tip inside, your legs tremor. it’s like the calm before the storm—your legs vibrate and twitch, preparing to erupt and quiver like a predicted earthquake. as you’re tightly holding onto his pent up shoulders, you whine, the peeling head of his plump cock smears itself against your soddened opening.

you’re trying to squeeze him in but he’s just so fucking so big.

your mouth then starts to open wider, voluntarily growing agape and sweet harmonic babbles of moans only escape through. it’s like you’re singing almost, except but in a much more lewd way.

it feels warm—a scorching hot type of warm.

regardless, it feels good even with you trying to take his size. you don’t get far, the head of his dick was so wide that again, you’re in awing rhapsody. you’re trying to have your cunt envelop his heat— feel him bottom out inside of you yet abruptly out of nowhere, you start to gush out.

it happens randomly. you’re not prepared, he didn’t even make his way inside. barely just the tip and here you were squirting all down his length. the sudden orgasm that drags out your throat was so long, it was pretty and bounced off the thin walls of the bedroom. a shrilling moan rudely ripples out from your esophagus as you make a cute attempt at thrusting forward. even still, you were determined to ride him—but still, it was no use. nanami grows a bit flustered at how you collapse into his chest, rubbing your head against him. he pats your head, a soft smile returning to his lips. “s- shiiit,” you croak out, sucking against the tender skin of his collar bone. nanami’s holding you firm and steady, a hand soothingly caressing down your back. the simple gesture alone calms you down, albeit you’re still shaking on his lap. your hips rapidly stutter over him, and you’re still feeling various piles of rapturing nirvana send you into a complete, euphoric trance. “k- ken, fuuuck.”

“i know princess,” he kisses against your earlobe, your narrow slitting entrance just dying to be stuffed.

you’ve never been more soaked—out of all the times, you’ve never made this much of a mess. you never squirted before, and it was a mesmerizing feeling. your legs felt like mush, still shaking and your cunt’s still trying to get over itself— throbbing and pulsing to it’s beating content. concise minuscule tears of sweat race down the sides of nanami’s thinly arched brows. a hand of his then grabs a fair chunk of your ass, making you rock against him before he lowly whispers to soothe your zealous state. your fervent was through the roof— it was a feeling you couldn’t describe let alone put into words. all you knew was that you wanted to do that again. as you’re still twitching a bit, nanami chuckles, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it. “it’s okay, it’s okay,” and a smile creeps onto his face the moment you bury your face into his neck.

oh, you’re embarrassed. you thought you could ride him but instead you barely even lasted a few seconds. nanami was quite compassionate though—he holds you close in his arms, pressing another kiss against your collarbone. “don’t be shy. i never minded a little mess anyway.”

at his lewd, filthy words—you’re whining. you wanted him so bad and you wanted more. you bring your desperate lips towards his face to kiss him and happily, he returns the favor. a tongue of his collides with yours before a hand of his gently wraps around your throat. with moving muscles tangoing together, swaying in harmony—his hands continue to wander every inch of your body. nanami likes to take in your curves, the very curvature of your pretty physique—each spot his fingers locates and reaches, it sends you continuous new shivers every time. pulling away after a while to breathe, nanami then makes you lie on your back again. as he’s hovering over you, he leans down to kiss near your tummy. “don’t worry, wifey,” he shushes in a loving tone—his eyes filling up with even more adoring tenderness for you. you were just so pretty like this, exposed and underneath him. your body was like art to him. “i got you,” he coos, and as he raises your leg slowly, creating a damp trail of kisses from your knee to your ankle, he aligns his cock against your drooling slit. “kento’s got you,” he repeats in a sweet purr. “now let your husband take it from here. lie back— yeah, atta girl.”

[xosannie]

ohhhhhh i cant stop thinking about make up sex with seonghwa, like imagine he did something that upset you and hes trying to make amends with you

sooooo he got on his kness and you somehow got into dom mode and pressed your high heels on his crotch jejsksksksks and seonghwa being whiny

hope you have fun writing 🫣

Know Your Place

☆a/n: AGGHH this is so good, right when I read this I knew I had to write something with this. You match my freak fr >:))

☆Genre: Smut MDNI 18+ Only

☆Pairing: Sub!Seonghwa x Dom!reader (afab)

☆Word count: 3.2k

☆Warnings: hair pulling, begging, stepping on his ween, degrading/humiliation, use of sex toys (f receiving), reader masturbates in front of Seonghwa, foot humping, Seonghwa is very desperate, praise (both for the reader and Seonghwa), slight heel kissing, dacryphilia, cumming in pants, reader gets called “Miss” (let me know if I missed anything)

☆Summary: When Seonghwa accidentally stood you up, leaving you alone in your shared apartment while he went out with his members. Somehow, he completely forgot about the date you both were meant to go on after he came home from work. When he did come home though, he swore he would do anything for you to forgive him. Anything?

—————————————————————————

“Where the fuck is he?” You huff.

Your heels clicking on the wood floor as you paced around the apartment. You tried calling him, but it would take your straight to voice mail. You warned Seonghwa to stop leaving the house without his phone fully charged. 

You groan in annoyance, walking to the living room and plopping down on the couch. You sat there with your head in your hands, your heart pounding with anger. How could he do this? 

Earlier that day, Seonghwa left your apartment for work. He had to spend the day in the recording booth for their upcoming album. That part you weren’t upset about; what upset you is that you both planned to go on a nice dinner when he got back. 

Two hours passed since he was supposed to get out of work, and he still wasn’t home. You were already dressed, wearing your prettiest black dress that you knew Seonghwa loved. It stopped at your midthigh and had some lace detailing. Your hair was curled, falling perfectly on your shoulder, and you had on a pair of black stiletto heels. 

You felt so humiliated, all dolled up just to be stood up by YOUR OWN BOYFRIEND. Suddenly you hear the jingling of keys on the other side of the front door; he’s finally home. A laughing Seonghwa stepped into the apartment, waving at his members before closing the door. When he turned to face you, his smile dropped, and you stood up slowly off the couch, glaring at Seonghwa.

He felt his heart ache after seeing the way you were dressed; he completely forgot about the date. The way you were looking at him sent chills down his spine, and you turned on your heels to storm in your shared bedroom. 

“Y/n wait…please.”

He caught up to you, stopping you before you could enter the bedroom. You shot around, eyes filled with fury. He stepped back, wanting to touch you but afraid you would blow up if he did.

“What the fuck, Seonghwa!? How could you? You stood me up!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

His voice was soft and apologetic; you saw his eyes fill with worry and regret, but you were too upset to even care. 

“You didn’t mean to?! Do you know how dumb I feel, getting all dolled up just to wait for you for two hours? Your phone is dead, so you didn’t answer any of my calls; you just wasted my time!” 

“Listen, I don’t know how I forgot. After we finished recording, the guys wanted to grab some food."

“I don’t want to hear it!”

You interrupted him, walking in the bedroom and slamming the door in his face. Seonghwa let out a small sigh, rubbing his forehead and cursing to himself. You were too upset to even change out of your clothing; you sat on the edge of the bed with your head in your hands again. You felt so hurt; if you hadn’t let yourself be angry, you would have started sobbing right in front of Seonghwa (and you certainly did not want to do that).

Seonghwa didn’t step away from the bedroom door, resting his head on the wood with his hand gripping the doorknob. He messed up, real bad. He felt so guilty he could cry. All he wanted to do was walk in and shower you with all his love and kisses, but he knew you needed space. He knew that in times where you were angry, the best thing to do was let you be alone for a moment to cool down. 

After a few minutes of silence, Seonghwa slowly turned the knob; it wasn’t locked (that was a good sign). He peaked his head in, his heart sinking when he saw the way you sat in the bed, still wearing your pretty outfit. 

“Babe?” he said meekly.

You jaw clenched at the sound of his voice; you sat frozen, hiding your face with the palm of your hands. Your lack of shouting was enough encouragement Seonghwa needed to fully step in, walking closer to you. He could tell you were starting to calm down, which is why he allowed himself to kneel in front of you, trying to meet your gaze. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t blame you for being upset with me. I don’t know how, but I just forgot. I guess I got so sprung up with working on this album; the guys wanted to go out to celebrate our hard work, and it slipped my mind.”

You took in a deep breath, still not looking at Seonghwa’s face. You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and your body relaxed just a bit at the sound. 

“That’s no excuse though; I shouldn’t have left my girl like that. I feel terrible. I’m so sorry, baby. You look so pretty, I could tell you spent a lot of time to look nice.”

You felt his trembling hand gently grasp your ankle, admiring your pretty shoes and dress. He soothingly ran his hand up and down your leg, scooting closer. Your silence started to worry him; he had to fight back tears and continued to apologize.

“Baby? Please say something. I’m so sorry. What I did was wrong, but please, can you at least look at me?”

His voice took on a pleading, desperate tone, and you felt your stomach churn with desire at the familiar sound. You mentally cursed yourself for feeling that way in a moment like this. You slowly lifted your face out of your hands, staring at a kneeling Seonghwa. 

His brows were furrowed and his eyes filled with desperation. This was a familiar sight, but in other cases he would usually be naked, dripping pre-cum out of his pretty cock. 

“Please? I’ll do anything if it means you will forgive me. Please, I’m begging on my knees for you.” 

He whined; you could tell he was on the brink of tears. Voice cracking at how desperate he was for you to forgive him; you knew his apology was sincere... but the way he looked did something to you.

“Anything?” You spoke, your voice taking a darker tone.

Seonghwa noticed the shift in your tone, although he tried not to think of it much. You watched as he bit his lip and nodded eagerly.

“Yes! Anything, please let me show you how sorry I am. Just name it, and I’ll do it.”

Your hard gaze on Seonghwa caused him to shiver, immediately feeling smaller while he kneeled in front of you. Suddenly, you reached up, tightly gripping the roots of Seonghwa’s hair and pulling his head back. He gasped harshly, feeling a wave of arousal crash through him, and his eyes shone with newfound desire. 

“You’re going to be my little bitch today,” you grunted through your teeth. 

Seonghwa whimpered at your words, eyes glued on you, and nodded to the best of his abilities. 

“Yes, yes, whatever you want. Punish me for being bad.” 

You chuckled darkly at how easily he complies with you. You push your foot forward and press the bottom of your shoe on his crotch, adding slight pressure.

Seonghwa gasped again, feeling your shoe against his clothes. He winced slightly at the pain, embarrassed at how he started to grow hard. You laughed at him, stepping harder onto his crotch and watching his every expression.

“You’re such a bad boy, leaving me all alone.”

You began to rub your foot against his growing length, causing Seonghwa to whine softly. His expression was so pretty, his jaw going slack as he furrowed his brows. He tried so hard to keep his eyes on you, knowing that if he looked away, it would only upset you more.

“I’m sorry, Miss; I won’t do it again.” He whined.

You released your grip on his hair, leaning back and resting your weight on your hands. You lifted your heel off him, just to press down again. Seonghwa whimpered and whined at the feeling, using all his might not to buck up into your foot. He was trying to be a good boy, his hands clenched at his sides as he let you step on him. 

“You’re getting hard from this? You’re so dirty, so pathetic.” 

Seonghwa whimpered at your words, feeling himself twitch against your foot. He nodded his head, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

“Yes… I’m sorry. I’m so pathetic,” he whined out. 

You felt yourself ache at his words; seeing him in this state made you feral. You laughed at his reaction, removing your foot to cross your legs. Seonghwa had to fight back the cry he wanted to let out, already missing the pressure of your shoe on him. His eyes roamed up and down your body, enjoying how dominant you looked. 

“You’re so pretty,” he said softly. 

“I am? I wore your favorite dress; it’s just a shame you won’t be taking it off me tonight.”

Seonghwa whined pathetically at your words, feeling a pang of disappointment. He gripped his own thighs, trying his best to keep his hands to himself. He knew he wasn’t allowed to touch you unless he had your permission.

“Nooo, please?”

You smirk at him, kicking your foot up to press your heel against his chest.

"No, no, you won’t be touching me in that way.”

Seonghwa pouted at your words; he felt his cock ache with need. You barely touched him, and he was already so needy. The pressure of your heel on his chest excited him a lot; he loved the slight pain. He loved that you could do whatever you wanted to him; he was so willing to let himself go and obey your every command. It was all so humiliating it turned him on. 

“Kiss my heel.”

Seonghwa felt a shiver run down his spine. He pressed his lips together and took in a breath. 

"Yes, Miss, I’ll gladly do that for you.”

He gently grasped your ankle, placing a soft kiss at the top of your shoe. He made sure to keep his eyes on you, and he started to trail soft kisses up your foot to your ankle.

“These heels are so pretty; you’re so pretty...so perfect,” he mumbled. 

You pulled your foot away, making Seonghwa whine softly. 

“Let’s not get hasty.” 

"Yes, Miss, I’m sorry.” 

You stared him down, taking in his desperate form. Watching the way his chest rose and fell, his dick hard and aching in his pants. It was so erotic, your core throbbed with desire. 

“I love that look on your face; it drives me crazy.” 

You huffed, spreading your legs in front of Seonghwa. His eyes widened when he saw you were wearing no panties under your dress. He whimpered, nails digging into the fabric of his pants.

“Fuck, you’re not wearing panties?”

“Tonight, I was going to let you touch me all you wanted at the restaurant, but since you stood me up...”

Your hands reached down, dipping your finger in your wet folds, rubbing circles around your clit.

“You won’t be touching me at all tonight.”

Seonghwa took in a sharp breath, his head casting down as a broken whine escaped his lips. 

“Nooo, please, I’m sorry. I won’t be bad, I promise. Please, please, I need to touch you... to taste you. Please!

You laugh at his reaction, rubbing your clit faster. 

"God, you’re so pathetic; you have no shame.”

“I am pathetic; I’m a dirty, pathetic boy. But it’s all because of you. I need you, please!” 

You moan at his words, his begging turning you on greatly. You yourself were starting to grow more desperate; your fingers weren’t enough. It was hard to stay composed; you so badly wanted to pull Seonghwa on the bed and ride him till you both came. Although he didn’t deserve that, not after everything he put you through.

An idea popped in your head, and you smirked mischievously as you reached over to open the bedside drawer. Seonghwa eyes followed your actions, watching you questioningly. He felt his dick pulse when he saw you pull out a pink dildo. He moaned at the sight, knowing what you had planned.

“Oh my god, baby,” he whined. 

You chuckled, spitting on the toy to get it nice and wet. You gently stroked it, lathering the dildo with your saliva. He watched you intently as you aligned the toy with your dripping hole.

“No, please don’t do this. I can’t handle not touching you.” 

“That’s too bad; now sit and watch like a good boy.”

He pressed his lips together, trying to quiet down his pleas. All his efforts went to waste though when he moaned out loud at the sight of you pushing toy inside you. 

You bent your knee up, trying to get a better angle and give Seonghwa a better view as you fucked yourself. You moaned softly, the feeling of Seonghwa’s pleading eyes on your turning you on.

“Oh god, you’re so pretty. I wish I was the one fucking you. Your pussy is so wet; I need you, baby, please.”

You ignored his please, head tilting back in pleasure. The feeling of the toy sliding in and out of you felt too good. The squelching of your pussy filled the room; Seonghwa couldn’t take much more of this. He was so hard it started to hurt in his pants. 

“Please, I can’t take it. I need you. You don’t even have to fuck me just... fuck, please just give me anything.”

“Such a needy boy,” you chuckled breathlessly.

You place your foot back on his crotch, applying pressure like last time. The moan that ripped out of Seonghwa's chest made you ache between your legs. You subconsciously fucked the dildo in you faster.

“Fuck there you go. Hump my foot like the bitch you are.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He immediately grabbed ahold of you, wrapping his arms around your leg as he humped up into your foot. 

“Thank…you.”

“Fuck look at you,” you groaned. 

The sight of Seonghwa desperately trying to reach his high by grinding on your foot made you shiver in delight. His forehead rested on your knee; the mixture of pain and pleasure of your hard shoe rubbing against his most sensitive spot made his head reel. 

He looked back up, eye fixated on your pussy, taking the dildo deep. He moaned, watching with awe.

“You’re so pretty; you deserve all the pleasure.”

You moan louder, feeling your release coming faster than anticipated. You reached down to grab Seonghwa's hair, making him moan louder. Seonghwa can feel himself getting closer, his hips moving faster against your foot.

"Oh, look at that face you’re making; you’re close, aren’t you Seonghwa?” 

“Yessss,” he groaned; his words were slurring, and you could tell he was getting lost in the pleasure.

“Don’t you dare cum, not until I say you can.”

“Yes Miss… I’m trying... to hold it.”

You panted heavily; your wrist started to ache at how fast you were pounding your own pussy. You were on the brink of release, so close, but you needed more. You needed something else to push you off the edge.

“You want to touch me, baby?”

Seonghwa head perked up, eyes filled with excitement. 

“Yes! Yes please!”

“Take your fingers and rub my clit. That’s all you get to do.”

He whimpered, nodding eagerly and licking the pad of his middle and ring finger. He reached up to rub circles on your sensitive bud. You moaned, your hand gripping tighter in his hair, making him wince at the feeling.

“Like this?” He whimpered.

"Yes, baby, good boy.”

He moaned at your praise, dick twitching in his pants. He wished he was the one inside you, but he was so desperate to touch you that he was happy with the little friction he gave to your clit. 

“I want to make you feel good. Please cum, Miss. I can tell you’re so close.”

Seonghwa's words were all you needed to finally reach your peak. Legs trembling as you came all over the toy. Seonghwa moaned as he watched you come undone. 

“Yes! Yes! Oh, you’re so pretty when you cum, you deserve this.”

Seonghwa felt his own orgasm threaten to explode; he tried to hold it back to the best of his abilities. He whined desperately, his eyes filling up with tears. He gripped at your thigh, biting his lip so hard you were afraid it would start bleeding. 

After pulling the toy out of your wet hole, you set it aside, panting heavily. Your tight grip on Seonghwa's hair shifted to a soothing massage on his scalp.

“You wanna cum Seonghwa?” You asked breathlessly.

He nodded eagerly, pouting with tears rolling down his face. You smiled softly at his expression, cupping his face to make him look at you. You spoke to him in a gentle tone as you wiped a tear with your thumb.

“Cum for me, baby; you deserve it.”

“Thank you,” he said weakly.

A high pitch moan escaped Seonghwa’s lips, and he buried his face in your thigh as his hips stuttered. You continued to stroke his hair as he came all over himself, making a mess in his pants. 

“Shhh, that’s it. Good job, baby. You did so well.”

Seonghwa let out broken whimpers, holding onto you tightly while his hips rolled uncontrollably to ride out his high. His body stilled after his release, breathing heavily against your skin. He stayed there for a moment, brain gone to mush. You smile softly at him, lifting his face up to meet your gaze.

His face was stained with tears, his cheeks blushed red, and his lips plump from gnawing at them so much. 

“Good boy,” you praised.

He let out a small smile; his heart swelled with pride at the sound of your encouragement. He nuzzled his cheek into your thigh, looking up at you with loving eyes.

“Thank you,” he managed to let out. 

You pulled your foot off Seonghwa; a dark patch stained the crotch of his pants. You chuckle softly at the sight, leaning down to kiss his tear-stained cheek.

“I’m sorry, y/n; I shouldn’t have left you hanging like that.”

“It’s okay, Seonghwa; I forgive you.”

He smiled wide at your words, and his body finally relaxed. He let out a content sigh as his arms unwrapped themselves from your leg. 

“You took your punishment so well. You’re my good boy; I could never stay mad at you.”

You cupped his face with both your hands, and he laughed softly at your words. He reached up to rest his hand on top of yours, placing a small kiss on the inside of your wrist. You pull him up on the bed, wrapping your arms around him, and he nuzzles his face in your neck.

“Thank you. I still can’t help but feel bad,” he pulled away to pout at you. 

You chuckled, pushing his hair out of his eyes. You placed a sift kiss on his pouty lips; he immediately melted at your touch. 

“It’s okay; just buy me food tomorrow, and we’re fine.”

He chuckled, nodding in agreement. You both kissed each other again, slowly and passionately. You felt him pour all his love into this one kiss.

“Can I fuck you now?” He asked, eyes wide with hope.

You laughed, stroking his face and kissing his lips one last time.

“Aww, no.”

His body slumped, and he pouted softly.

“It was worth a shot,” he shrugged.

~

a/n: okay I know they don’t actually fuck but I felt this ending fit the concept the best. I hope you like it tho :3 (also side note, how do y’all feel about pegging….asking for scientific reasons 👀)

[dark-and-kawaii]

꧁༺ 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 ༻꧂

Astarion loses sight of you in a fight, he fears the worse has happened to you. He finds you and manages to bring you back to shadowheart for healing, only to discover he has more to protect than just you…

Angst - Hurt - Comfort - Pregnancy

(Click For Part Two)

You were fearless. He watched as you swung your dagger effortlessly, piercing into the necks of their enemies.

He wondered how you still managed to look elegant even when covered in the blood of fallen warriors.

His gaze never left you for too long, making sure you were safe, while he stealthed around the makeshift arena, racking up his own share of kills. How glorious this was! There was so much blood splattering all around them and with his love at his side it truly couldn’t get any better.

Astarion’s eyes couldn’t be everywhere though, and at some point, he lost sight of you. The last person to recognize him for what he’s worth, the one person he truly couldn’t afford to lose.

His head darted across the battlefield, desperately trying to find you. His panic plunged into sheer dread as fear overcame him. It was happening all over again, he’d seen this before… Alone.. No, please, he couldn’t let this be his fate.

He hadn’t felt fear this whole day; why should he? He was free of Cazador, had you- A subtle manic laugh drew from his throat, he’d never be free of fear, instead of fearing for himself or what his old master would do to him he now feared what would happen to you when in danger.

His red eyes turned a dark shade of black. The expression of a crazy man etched onto Astarion’s face. No, he wouldn’t let fear consume him, no more! He’d finally be the protector! Overcome with fury he went on a rampage. Cutting through the battlefield, slaughtering anyone and everyone in his way, determined to find you. He raced over to where he last saw you, faster than a blue dragon's lightning splits through the air in a storm.

Was he truly going to be the reason you passed on to the next life. Was his fate to destroy everything he held near and dear to his heart? He nearly killed you before with his own fangs and now, no! He wasn’t the cause of that, was he? He hadn’t ever tasted human blood before, but if he was stronger it wouldn’t have happened! If he would’ve ascended he would’ve been able to stop this, however he’s still just a spawn… How could you have fought for his love, a fool who couldn’t even protect you. A fool who was going to be the reason you die.

“FIND HER” He roared at the top of his lungs. “FIND TAV!”

The group of companions didn’t dare hesitate and instantly started searching the grounds, Gale being the second most worried.

Astarion was about to collapse to his knees before hearing Gale's voice, “I’ve found her!” in the distance. It filled him with more apprehension. All he could think is, ’what if she’s dead’.

Staggering up the hill where Gale’s voice had come from, Astarion can see a figure laying in the dirt next to the wizard, “No! You can’t die dammit! Get up!!” he rushed out his words, dismay evident in his tone as he knelt next to you.

“She is unconscious, but alive. There’s hope.” Gale replied.

Astarion let out a shaky breath of relief.

“We must get her back to camp,” Astarion demanded. “She needs Shadowheart, she’s the only one who can fix this!” His voice cracked despite his efforts to mask it.

“I agree.” Gale, mere inches from grabbing you to lift you in his arms until the pale elf stopped him, “Don’t touch her!- I- I will carry her.” Trying to compose himself he lifted you bridal style.

Astarion never left your side during Shadowhearts attempts to heal you. Time never bothered him, not after his 200 years of torment, he waited as “patiently” as he could.

“Honestly, how long does it take! You could at least give me some good news!”

Shadowheart continued to focus on you best she could, everyone including the gods were used to Astarions fits at this point. Gale on the other hand not so much, he could hear Astarion all the way in his own tent which caused the wizard to scrunch his nose. Eventually, leading him to where you were being treated, “Astarion, why don’t you join me in some wine. I’ve got quite the choices, besides… It might be best if we give her some space.”

Astarion scowled, “You expect me to leave her side to join you in some cheap wine? Really? I didn’t think you could get anymore annoying, Gale.”

“It’s done. She’ll be fine after some more rest.” Shadowheart stood from your side and wipes the blood off her hands. She’s been traveling with you and these two men for far too long, toning out their bickering was a skill of hers at this point.

Turning to face you, if his heart could beat he knows it would’ve dropped in his chest this very moment… “Leave us-“ kneeling down next to your bedroll, his eyes fixed on your bandaged wound, “please.”

“I was able to save her,” -Shadowheart bent down towards Astarion- “and the child, but it took most of my energy and resources… Don’t ask for me again for a while. Keep them both safe.”

He was quiet, his eyes wide after the news he was just told.

“Ahhh,” Shadowheart’s voice was surprised, “she didn’t tell you yet? Hmm or perhaps she hadn’t known yet? Curious.”

Astarion could only stare at his love, “A-are you for certain?”

Gale interjected, “I doubt her magic would deceive her, congratulations.”

Dark bruises and cuts decorated your once perfect skin. A deep purple shade surrounded your right puffy eye. His eyes traveled further down your body, stopping at your stomach.

He caressed your still flat stomach, causing you to wince and awake. Retreating his hand, he awaited for your eyes to open and look up at him.

A-Astarion?” You spoke with a small smile carved on your lips.

“Yes, my love. It’s me.” He struggled out, trying his best not to crumble.

You were both silent, hands entwined with one another thankful that you both can spend another day alive in the presence of another.

He was the first to break the silence, “thank you.”

You were so weak, but you wanted to know why he was thanking you out of the blue, “For what?” Your voice barely heard.

“For this,” his hand stretching out to rest on your abdomen, “for giving me purpose again.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, not knowing what he was talking about until it finally hit you. Your arm wavered as you lifted it to place your hand atop of his on your belly. A gentle smile forming on your lips as you stared into his vermilion eyes.

When your breath became labored indicating you had fallen asleep again, Astarion’s attention was back at your torso where the bandage was slowly being stained by your blood. This moment of relief turned to anger again as he lashed out, slapping a metal canister of water out the tent with force. The absolute intrigued him at first, more power meant being stronger to protect you, but now… He was beyond ever considering it again. The cultist not only almost killed you, but the child growing from within you!

“How dare they…” He seethed, “How dare they harm her and my child!”

Astarion was pacing around angrily, how could he have allowed this to happen? He started to blame himself.

“Astarion-“ You spoke up, attempting to calm him down.

“I’ll show them, my love-“ he cut you off, “that nobody is allowed to touch what is mine.” He growled.

His eyes darkened again: “I’ll make them pay.”

[goldkirk]

what right did Tolkien have to make the saga with Gandalf slow-burn gaslighting Beorn about just how many people were actually about to show up on his doorstep. One. After. Another. SO FUNNY. 😂

———

Beorn: who are you two

Gandalf: absolutely nothing to worry about, first of all. and second of all, I’m Gandalf and I’m a wizard. Fyi. Also you might not know of me but you likely know my bro Radagast, he lives over by Mirkwood and he’s pretty chill

Beorn: he is pretty chill. not a bad dude for a wizard. Okay I know Who You Are, now what do you want?

Gandalf: to be honest my dude. we’re fucked up. no luggage. no food. no weed. hardly even our own coats. We had some issues with the goblins you see

Beorn: Why the fuck did you go to the goblins??? dummy??

Gandalf: we didn’t do it on PURPOSE, we were—it’s a long story my guy

Beorn: Well you’d better get in here and start telling it then, I guess.

Gandalf: ah thanks!! Cool. So, where was I? Oh right. Over the mountains we came, and the storm, and the rock giants, and we found this cave went to sleep, and then suddenly the goblins grabbed This Very Hobbit [pats Bilbo’s head like a used car salesman] and our troop of ponies—

Beorn: TROOP of PONIES?

Beorn: what do you mean TROOP of ponies. What are you, a traveling circus?

Gandalf, mentally: [do not say yes. do not say yes. do not say yes. do not say yes.]

Gandalf: oh no, there were more than two ponies bc there’s more than two of us!!! I didn’t want to bother you with more of us until I found out if you were busy. I can call ‘em if you want?

Beorn: go ahead, whatever

[Gandalf proceeds to lowkey gaslight the man for a while as multiple rounds of DWARVES and MORE DWARVES and EVEN MORE DWARVES show up]

Beorn: these are dwarves. not hobbits or wizards. you brought dwarves?

Beorn: wait eight of you? You just now said a dozen. Twelve is not eight. Is it twelve or eight. Bro.

Beorn: the goblins were singing at you? singing songs? “fifteen birds in five fir trees”? since when does a dozen equal fifteen? and it doesn’t even rhyme.

Beorn: don’t pretend that goblins can’t count. don’t lie. Now you’re just disrespecting ALL of us. You KNOW goblins can count perfectly well. Where the fuck are the other three

Beorn: I see. I see what you did here.

Beorn: well now that all FIFTEEN OF YOU are here, maybe NOW you can finally tell me the proper story without any more INTERRUPTIONS.

[loveydovey-leviathan]

can i request the Obey me brothers and/or the datables reaction to you being jealous ☺️

mc gets jealous

obey me x gn!reader

🍉 from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸. this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and/or support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. | credit 🍉

a/n: the intro is so long in comparison to what i wrote for the characters lmao

cw: the gender of the person flirting with the characters is not mentioned. they don’t leave even after he’s told them to [belphie’s part]

.

The two of you have been spending less time together lately, your personal responsibilities keeping you apart longer than they usually would. But when you realised the both of you hadn’t gone on a date in weeks, you decided to surprise them with one at a popular cafe in the human world.

Once seated at a comfortable corner, you kiss them on the cheek and tell them you’ll be right back with your orders. The trip from the counter to your seats couldn’t have taken more than 4 minutes but when you walk back, there’s a stranger at your spot next to them. By their body language, it’s clear they’re trying to snatch up your obviously irritated significant other.

Maybe it’s because today was finally a free day for the two of you, combined with not seeing them as much as you would’ve liked– but when you finally arrived at your table, you set down your orders with a little more force than necessary.

With eyes as cold as a storm as you possessively inserted yourself by your lover’s side, you asked the stranger in your seat, “Do you need something from us?”

lucifer

A smug little smirk makes its way to his handsome face when the stranger decides not to start anything and walks away.

And while a part of him doesn’t even want to wait until they’re out of earshot– the same part of him that wants to kiss you senseless in front of the many suitors you have– he refrains from doing anything too rash in public.

If he was in his demon form, his wings would ruffle from how you pridefully claimed him to be your lover in front of this “threat”. Not that anyone has the potential to be one when you’re all he ever thinks about in the late hours of the night.

When you sit down next to him once more, still obviously slightly angry after the ordeal, he gently holds your hand and presses it to his lips.

Just in case it wasn’t clear to anyone else in the cafe that the two of you are together.

“There’s no need to be jealous, my dear. I’m all yours.”

mammon

He gets a little flustered when you’re at his side but he soon gets over it and pulls you closer.

“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m taken. Now, scram.”

Unlike Lucifer, he doesn’t even wait until the person leaves before he gets up to kiss you (on the cheek, he can only handle so much PDA).

“Took ya long enough! Seemed like you were takin’ forever.” “I was gone 5 minutes, Mams.” “Same thing.”

He’s sweet. And needy– but that’s why you love him. Another kiss on the cheek and it seems like he’s already forgotten what happened.

He hasn’t obviously. He’s going to daydream about this for the next 4 months every night before he goes to sleep because it proves you’re just as greedy for him as he is for you.

He’ll tease you about it, of course. “You must really love me if that got ya jealous.” He’ll stop if you ask him too but he’s still going to be giddy about it.

leviathan

He’s so relieved once you’re here because he had no idea what to do. He doesn’t even realise that he’s leaning towards you.

It isn’t until the stranger leaves that he realises that he’s still extremely close to you while in a public cafe.

He instantly gets so embarrassed and wants to leave.

It doesn’t take you long to put the pieces together– so you take your orders to go and pull him outside the cafe and into a nearby park.

“S-Sorry… I know you really like that place.” Now he’s worried that you might hate him for getting embarrassed and potentially ruining the date for the two of you.

When you reassure him that it’s fine and that you can always go to some other place, he calms down enough and the situation completely dawns on him– you got jealous because you thought someone else wanted his affections (which he still isn’t completely sure of btw).

His face is flushed pink when he thinks about it. You love him enough to fight for him.

“What? Oh- uhm.. it’s nothing– just thinking about how cool you looked back in the cafe when you got jealous, hehe.” < is imagining scenarios in his head and totally planning on telling Henry 2.0 about this exciting development in your relationship.

satan

He was about to commit a crime right before you came along.

Usually, he would be better at keeping his anger in check but this is your first date in a while and he’s not about to have some rando ruin it for the two of you.

“Leave.” is all he says to them with a glare sharper than Asmo’s heels.

He calms down as soon as he sees you seated next to him once more.

“They’re lucky you came when you did. The absolute nerve of some people–” he shuts up once you kiss him on the cheek.

While the two of you eat your food, he realises that your actions may have been caused by a spur of jealousy. He’s quick to tease you about it.

“Was somebody jealous? Well, now you know how I feel whenever one of my brothers take you away.”

He thinks you’re so cute when you’re jealous, but he refrains from teasing too much lest you lightly make fun of him when he’s green with envy.

asmodeus

Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loves attention– but not at the expense of the two of you spending time together.

As soon as you’re next to him, he stands up and pulls you even closer than you already were.

“Ugh, MC~ where were you? I was so bored.”

He’s acting all whiny and needy, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and completely ignoring the other person.

It’s not long before they turn red in the face and storm out of the cafe.

“Finally, they’re gone,” he complains, checking underneath his nails like he was afraid some of their filth might have latched itself to him.

“You’re adorable when you’re jealous, have I told you that?” 

He’s so quick to tease, even though he’s 100x worse when he’s jealous.

Somehow, he’s even more clingy the rest of the date. He's holding your hand, kissing your cheek, pulling you close to him the entire time– his own way of telling you and everyone else that he’s yours and you’re his.

beelzebub

He’s pretty clueless as to what’s happening and what the stranger’s intentions are– but when you come along, his passive face instantly lights up with a smile.

He is so in love with you, that you’d have to be blind to not see the way he looks at you, like your presence alone makes his heart full.

The stranger realises that they didn’t have a chance from the beginning, and Beel doesn’t even notice them leaving.

He notices that you seem angry at something, so he gently takes your hand and seats you beside him again– handing the slightly ruined food to you.

“You look angry. You should eat, it’ll make you feel better.”

He was right, it did make you feel better. Along with him happily eating all the orders you got him.

He won’t bring up the stranger unless you bring it up, but if you do, he’ll just shrug.

“Them? I don’t know, they just came up to me and sat on our table. I don’t mind when people do that but they were interrupting our date. I didn’t want to get angry and make a scene.”

belphegor

Belphie is spoiled. And he is tired.

When someone comes and sits on your seat, trying to flirt when the two of you came in together– he is instantly pissed off.

He wants nothing more than to “make” them leave, but he can’t (at least not in the way he wants to). So he just decides to be upfront instead.

“Do you mind? That seat is taken by my s/o– the one who walked in with me, in case I need to remind you.”

When they still don’t leave, he’s very seriously considering putting a curse on them.

But before he starts the incantation, you arrive in an equally bad mood.

Recognising that it’s two against one, they roll their eyes and leave, muttering something under their breath all the way.

“That was so tiring…” < (he spoke three sentences)

If you offer to go home, he refuses, saying that you both planned this already.

“I’ll try my best to stay awake but I can’t guarantee it. When we get back home, you owe me a nap.”

The sly little bitch managed to turn the whole thing in his favour.

[buckboi]

Angsty Little Coda to 7.6 because I couldn’t get the look on Margaret Buckley’s face out of my head but don’t worry it has a happy ending

*Now edited and on Ao3*

G / 1k / TW for bad parents

“Evan, have you got a moment?” 

Five words from his mother and Buck falls off cloud nine and crashes back to nineteen years old.

But Chimney’s alive and okay. Maddie’s glowing beside him in her gown. Everyone’s chatting and eating the overpriced (but admittedly delicious) wedding cake. It feels like a family gathering, and Buck won’t cause a scene in front of his family.

“Yeah, sure,” he says. Tommy gives his hand a gentle squeeze. Says I’ll be right here with just his eyes. Buck squeezes back, and follows his mom into the corridor.

“Come here.” She pulls a tissue from her pocket with one hand, grabs his chin with the other and starts wiping away the soot Tommy had left on his face when they reunited. “So. What’s all this then?”

It’s a trap, he knows.

“What’s all what?” he deflects.

“All this.” She waves her hand at his face, then towards the hospital room where Tommy is visible through the glass door. “You’re an adult now, Evan. I thought you knew better than to upstage your sister on her wedding day.”

Oh great. Accused of doing exactly what he’s trying not to do. It would be funny if it wasn’t frustrating.

“Second wedding,” he mutters under his breath. Just because Maddie was happy to forgive her parents for missing the first one, doesn't mean Buck has to let it go too.

“Excuse me?”

“I said she knows,” he corrects. This is a happy day. Chim is alive. Maddie is beautiful. Tommy is waiting for him. Things are good. He’s not arguing with his mother. “Maddie. I told her about Tommy weeks ago. She was the first person I told, actually. And she told me to bring him to the wedding, if I wanted to. The only one here who seems to have a problem with it is you.”

His mom scoffs at that, and lets go of his face.

“I’m not homophobic.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“I just don’t think it’s right, springing it on your father like that.” She tuts at him. Like he’s nineteen, fifteen, twelve, eight years old. He almost liked it when she was disappointed in him. At least she was paying attention. “He’s getting older. His heart.”

“You think me having a boyfriend is going to give dad a heart attack?” He laughs at the absurdity of it all. “Do you think we should get him outta that room before he realizes Hen and Karen are lesbians?”

“Evan.” How she manages to say his name with some much judgment when she’s the one who names him, he’ll never know. “It’s different. When you find out your own child has been lying to you for years. And all those girls you’d string along...”

She looks hurt, but not angry, which is its own kind of fucked up. It’s not fair. She doesn’t get to be sad about this.

Not when things are finally feeling good, and safe, and right. When Tommy feels right.

“I wasn’t lying.” It’s maybe more of the truth than she deserves.

“I don’t see how that can be true if you’re gay.”

“Well I’m bi, actually. And I only just-“ he scrubs a hand over his face, probably spreading the soot around worse. “It’s a recent development, okay? That’s why people didn’t know. ‘Cause it’s new. And Tommy and I are taking it slow.”

“I suppose that’s a first for you too, Evan?” she snipes and it’s goddamn unfair because who is she to ask him that? To judge his life when she’s never so much as pretended to take an interest in it?

He has options, now. He could storm off. He could say something worse. He could say something worse, something about dead children and how they can’t disappoint you like the ones who are still alive and then storm off.

She’s not worth it, says a voice in his head. It sounds a lot like Eddie, and Bobby; like Maddie, and Chim, and Hen, and Tommy.

Like someone who actually cares about him.

“Can we just… not?” he asks, and for a second Buck thinks she might actually refuse. Might force the point, but she lets out an unnecessarily weary sigh and nods. “Can’t we go back to the party, and enjoy what’s left of the day?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I want that?” Buck doesn’t even attempt to answer that one. “Just let me get you looking respectable again and we can go back.” She grabs at his face once more.

“Buck! Chim wants you back for a team photo,” Maddie says, bursting out of Chimney’s room in a cloud of tulle. Just in time to witness his humiliation. Great. “Aww, you’re wiping it off?” 

“Of course he is,” their mom says. She’s scratching at his face with the tissue. Speaking for him like he can’t answer on his own. “It’s your wedding, Maddie. I won’t let him show you and Howard up.”

Buck takes a deep breath and smiles thinly as his sister furrows her brows.

“Oh, well, Chim said he wanted a photo with your face all dirty.” She laughs sweetly, and grabs Buck’s arm. “He wants to capture every detail of the day.” 

“Oh,” Buck says eloquently as he lets his sister pull him back into Chimney’s room. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” she assures him.

“No it isn’t,” Chim cuts in from his bed. “Tommy, again. I want that photo!”

And Buck laughs, because it’s silly, and because he knows his family loves him. He asks, “Do we have to?” not because he doesn’t want to, but because it’s Maddie and Chim’s day, and he never wanted to steal their spotlight, even for a moment.

“Oh absolutely you do, Mister,” Maddie tells him, with just enough tease that he knows she wouldn’t force it if he protested. “Our wedding, our rules.”

Buck has no interest in protesting, instead he turns towards Tommy, who’d been a shockingly good sport about this. Buck’s sure he’s exhausted; probably desperate to get back to his apartment and shower off the day. Kinda wants to join him there if he’s being completely honest with himself.

“Well?” Tommy asks, interrupting his steamy fantasy.

Buck bites his lip like he's a teenager again.

“Hi.”

“H-“ Buck interrupts Tommy’s reply with his lips, far softer than before.

He’ll never ask how his mom reacted - whether she rolled her eyes, or pursed her lips or looked, even for a moment, proud of him - but Buck’s family cheers and jeers and whistles their support.

And he feels free.

[azrielandhisshadows]

winter's kiss (3)

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: Azriel comes to your room and finds you in the midst of your doubt regarding the mating bond. Azriel opens up to you in hopes that you start to trust him

a/n: right now, I think this series will be 5 parts. I hope you enjoy!

part 1 part 2 part 4 part 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your heart pounded as you looked at your mate standing outside your door. His hair was disheveled, evidence that he’d been running his fingers through. You sensed the weight of concern in his eyes, and the depth of worry that etched itself into every line in his face. The golden thread tying you together made your heart pound as you studied every detail of him. Despite the horrors Kallias told you clouding your emotions, there was an innate part of you that longed to reach out to him – to hold him.

“Y/N,” Azriel said, his voice a small whisper. “Can I come in?”

His words broke you from your trance as you nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to follow you into your room. You sat at the edge of your bed and watched as he sat in a chair across from you. Azriel settled into the seat, his posture tense, but the demeanor gentle as he looked around the room. His eyes landed on the ice that remained near your bed, a remnant of your earlier turmoil. 

“I wanted to speak to you after the meeting, but Kallias made you leave so quickly.” You slowly nodded to Azriel’s words, taking slow deep breaths to control the storm beginning to rage within you. Azriel’s eyes met yours as he took a similar controlled breath, “I know this is overwhelming, Y/N. I’m overwhelmed too, but I would be lying if I denied how excited I am. I’ve been waiting for my mate for a long time.”

A wave of warmth flooded your bond at Azriel’s confession, a warmth that started to melt the ice between you. “Growing up, I read stories of great loves that lasted centuries. Mates that chased after each other despite the odds that came against them. They fought for each other, damning the consequences of their actions. I see that type of love in Kallias and Viviane and I couldn’t help but be envious of them. I never imagined finding that type of love from the confines of the Winter Court.”

Azriel’s eyes softened at your confession, his own emotions stirred by your words. You inhaled deeply before continuing, “Azriel, the innate part of me longs for you, which is crazy because I just met you; however, Kallias and Viviane told me things about you. Kallias shared rumors of a darkness that follows you. Death and destruction that follows you,” Azriel’s posture tightened, showing his fear of your next words. “Viviane, on the other hand, told me stories of a man who loves deeply and will protect those of importance to him. Quite frankly, I don’t know what to believe. Help me understand, Azriel – help me understand you.” 

You focused your attention on him, watching as a tear fell onto his scarred hands. His leg bounced up and down, nervousness flowing from the calm and stoic man you met hours ago. Azriel’s gaze remained locked on his hands as more tears fell, and he took a moment to compose himself. The vulnerability in his eyes was stark against the hardened exterior he often displayed. When he finally looked up, his eyes met yours with a mixture of sorrow and determination.

“Darkness has seemed to always follow me, ever since I was young. My father was an Illyrian lord. I lived with him, my stepmother, and two half-brothers. My stepmother and half-brothers didn’t like my presence and kept me locked away in a cell with no windows and light. They kept me as a prisoner, only giving me one hour outside everyday. They didn’t let me fly and I grew up fighting against every instinct in my body that begged me to get away. One day, my brothers decided to see how quickly Illyrian healing could take place,” his voice broke as he paused, searching for the strength to continue. “They poured oil on my hands and set them on fire. Some of my father’s warriors heard my screams and cries for help, but by the time they reached me, the damage had been done. That is why my hands are this way,” he said, lifting his hands for you to see.

Your heart ached as Azriel shared his painful past, each word carried the weight of his suffering. “Then, my powers came in. My shadows only grew in the darkness of my cell. Eventually, my father decided to send me to an Illyrian camp, so I could start training and honing my powers. That’s where I met Rhys and Cassian. We didn’t always get along,” Azriel chuckled as he remembered the beginning of his deepest friendships. “But we grew together and we became each other’s family. I would do anything for them and the rest of our court.”

You listened intently, absorbing the depth of Azriel’s past, the pain he had endured, and the fierce loyalty he felt toward his friends and his court. The revelation of his past brought a swell of compassion and a desire to comfort him.

“I can’t even begin to imagine the pain you went through,” you said softly, reaching out to gently touch his hand, the warmth of your skin contrasting with the coolness of his scars. “It’s hard to reconcile the darkness you’ve faced with the person sitting here before me.”

Azriel’s eyes met yours with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. “The darkness is a part of me, Y/N. It’s shaped who I am, but it doesn’t define me. I’ve learned to use it as a strength rather than letting it consume me. I’ve fought hard to protect those I love and to ensure that no one else has to endure what I did.”

He took a deep breath, his voice steadying. “As for the rumors—there’s truth to the darkness. I’ve been involved in situations that required me to make difficult choices, choices that sometimes led to pain and destruction. But that’s not all there is to me. I strive to balance that with the love and loyalty I feel for my friends, my court, and now, you.”

You nodded, absorbing his words. “I want to believe in the male Viviane described—the one who loves deeply and protects fiercely, but I’ve been trapped for so long. I know I’m naive and I often believe in fantasies that my mind makes up. There have been males in the past that have taken advantage of that and I’ve been left hurting. Kallias was always there to pick up my broken pieces. Kallias has always been my protector and I can’t go by and disregard his concern for a male I’ve just met.”

Azriel’s gaze remained steady, despite the sadness that grew in them. “Y/N, I understand your hesitations. I would be weary if I were in your place. I want to build a relationship with you based on trust and understanding. I don’t share my past with everyone, but I want you to know me beyond my dark reputation. Please, if you give me a chance, I will show you that I’m worthy of your trust.”

You felt a deep sigh of relief at his words. “I want to believe that, Azriel. I want to see the person beyond the rumors and the pain. Let’s take the time we have here to get to know each other, to understand each other better. We have until we leave the Dawn Court.”

Azriel’s expression softened, a faint smile breaking through. “I’d like that. I want us to build something real, something lasting. I know it won’t be easy, but I’m willing to try.”

You reached out and took his hand, your heart swelling with a cautious hope. “Let’s start with that. Let’s see where this path takes us.”

Azriel squeezed your hand gently, a promise of his commitment and sincerity. “Thank you, Y/N. I won’t let you down.” Azriel brought your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on your palm. He rose from his chair and watched as you laid on your once frozen bed. The warmth from his gaze moved to your lips and you felt a blush take over your cheeks. 

You looked at the handsome male standing at your bedside and your gaze shifted to his lips as he licked them. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

The room was bathed in a soft glow from the moonlight that creeped in. His gaze didn’t leave you, both of you filled with sudden anticipation and need. As he held your hand, the warmth of his touch seemed to melt away any lingering doubt and fear you harbored. His delicate plea hung in the air and tugged at your heart. His eyes filled with sincerity and a raw honesty that made it difficult to look away. A breath caught in your throat as you nodded, giving him the silent permission he sought. 

Azriel’s expression softened further, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and longing. Slowly, he leaned in, his movements deliberate and tender. The space between you shrank until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He paused for a heartbeat, giving you the chance you back away.

You didn’t move. Instead, you tilted your head slightly, meeting him halfway. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was a gentle, exploratory touch—a whisper of a kiss that spoke of all the emotions neither of you had yet fully expressed. His lips were warm and surprisingly soft, contrasting with the cold of his scars, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine.

The kiss deepened as you both surrendered to the moment. Azriel’s hand moved to your cheek, his touch gentle as he cradled your face. His lips molded to yours with a tenderness that made you feel cherished and safe. It was as if the kiss was a promise, a vow to navigate the uncertainty together and build something meaningful out of the chaos.

You responded with equal tenderness, your hand still resting in his, your other hand rising to touch his face. The kiss was a dance of exploration, a slow, deliberate melding of two souls finding their way to each other. Time seemed to stretch, and in that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

Azriel pulled away, his smile portraying the same hope that your kiss shared. The room transitioned into a serene quiet, disturbed only by the soft breeze whistling through the windows. He looked at you and you could tell he was weighing his next words carefully. 

“I’ll let you rest now,” Azriel’s voice, a soft murmur in the serenity. “I’d like to have breakfast with you in the morning, if that’s alright with you.”

Your face broke into a soft, yet tired, smile, “I’d like that.” 

Azriel stood, his tall presence acting as a comforting shadow over you. He reached for your hand once more, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. He turned to leave, his smile full of hope and gratitude for the moment you shared. As he reached the door, he looked back at you and paused.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said softly.

His eyes lingered on your tired form as you looked to him, “Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel permitted himself one more soft look filled with admiration at you before he stepped out of the room. The soft click of the door closing behind him acted as a gentle reminder of the moment you two had shared.

As you settled back onto your bed, the warmth of the kiss still lingering on your lips, you felt a sense of peace that had eluded you for so long. You gazed out the window at the stars over the Dawn Court, the night embracing you as you dreamed of the days ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @marvelsmylife @darlingoftheshadowss @scatteredstardustt

[sansaorgana]

Buck’s gal getting injured on base (twisted ankle or scrape - nothing major) and him just running off only hearing “she got hurt” to find her

hiii, it's me again 😌 with the second fic today because I'm trying to work on as many requests as I can since I don't have any plans this weekend and the amount of them in my inbox is lowkey stressing me out, not gonna lie 🤣 I love to write for Buck, though, so it's fine 💐

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

You would always wait for him when he was coming back from the missions. You were the only face Buck wanted to see first anyway and he kept searching for you through the crowd each time. Seeing you cheering for him would make him smile and his heart slow down its pounding in his chest.

But this time you were not there. His eyes were scanning through the crowd of men and women but you were not one of them. People approached him to congratulate him and pat his back but he did not pay much attention to it. He wanted to find his girl first. You would be the one to ground him after the mission and only after your sweet kiss he would be able to talk to these people or answer their questions.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” He kept asking but no one knew. Some didn’t even notice your unusual absence.

“You’re asking ‘bout (Y/N)?” Harry approached him. “She’s in the sickbay,” he explained and Buck’s heart skipped a beat at that. How could Harry be so casual about it…?

“What do you mean she’s there? What happened?!”

“I’ve no idea. Some accident. Buck, hey,” Harry tried to grab his friend’s sleeve, “you have to be interrogated first.”

“I don’t care,” Buck drawled out and hurried to the sickbay, not reacting to Harry and other men calling out for him. He was breaking a rule, he was aware. But there were more important things.

You were the most important thing.

Buck stormed inside the sickbay and looked around. One of the nurses sighed at the sight of him, already suspecting who he was looking for.

“She’s over there,” she pointed at the bed in the corner and Buck thanked her before rushing to your side.

You were reading a book and didn’t notice him at first, invested in the plot of some romance novel one of the nurses had lended to you. It was a nice distraction from the pain and from the stress. Buck was up in the air and you tried not to think about it too much.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” His deep voice brought you back to reality. You looked up and smiled widely at the sight of him.

“Oh! You’re back! You’re back!” You put the book away and extended your arms towards him.

“Yes, baby, I am,” he sat on the edge of your bed and took his cap off before leaning in to hug you. “What happened? Why are you here?!”

“You’re going to laugh at me,” you giggled.

“What do you mean?” He furrowed his brows, worried.

“I was in the archives, I tried to reach for the top shelf and I stood on the stool, right…” you started.

“Without taking off your heels first?” Buck sighed, knowing already what happened. He had been warning you about it each time he’d catch you doing it.

“Yes,” you looked down, ashamed. “And yeah, I fell down…” You paused and then you burst out laughing. “Oh, Buck, I’m glad you weren’t there.”

“I’d catch you if I were,” he lifted your chin up so you’d look at his face again.

“Yeah, no. Because…” you giggled, “...oh, baby, I fell down with the whole rack!” You laughed once again at how ridiculous you had to look when you had been found by the Colonel.

Buck chuckled finally, too.

“I’m so clumsy, it’s embarrassing,” you sighed.

“No, don’t say that,” he caressed your cheek. “Where does it hurt?” He asked.

You pushed your blanket aside and he hissed at the sight of your scratched knees and bruised hip.

“Yeah, not a very pleasant sight,” you admitted and covered yourself again. “The Colonel is more worried about that rack, though.”

“Of course he is,” Buck rolled his eyes.

“I’m scared that I’ll end up with scars on my knees,” you whispered. “I’m going to have ugly knees.”

“Well, that’s what you get for not listening to me, doll,” Buck bopped you on the nose.

“Will you still love me when I have ugly knees?” You asked shyly and he laughed.

“Oh, no, I can’t bear such a thought. I think I will be forced to look for a new girl with nicer knees. You see, knees are the most important part of a woman,” he teased but you didn’t find it funny and you pouted. “Oh, darling, I was joking,” he leaned in closer to place a kiss on your forehead. “I will always love you,” he promised and you smiled at him sweetly, “even with ugly knees.”

“Cleven,” Colonel’s voice made you both look up, “you should be in the interrogation.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m going now,” Buck put his cap back on and stood up.

“Both you and your girl are such menaces today,” Colonel Harding gave you an unpleasant look and you giggled.

“Oh, Colonel,” you rolled your eyes, “don’t you know trouble comes in pairs?”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[cameronspecial]

omg please write, enemy!rafe texting reader about something, and then he just starts flirting with her but she’s just bitchy back, and he’s like “see you later” or something like that

Let Me Fix This, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Toxic Rafe

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Masterlist

Rafe’s rules weren’t normally a probably and Y/N understood he created them so that they could have a healthy relationship and she was safe. However, at this moment, she can’t because he is going too far. “I turned it off by accident, Rafe. I don’t know how it happened, but it wasn’t on purpose,” she grits through her teeth. His eyes narrow as he holds her phone up to her, “That’s literally impossible. You have to go through so many steps to turn it off. You intended to do it!” She cowers back at the harshness of his words. He hasn’t spoken to her like this since their first fight. Since then, whenever he felt his volume rising, he would leave the room to calm down. “It was an accident!” she argues. Anger takes him over. Before he can control himself, he throws her phone across the room and the smashing of glass against the wall has her turning to see her broken for on the floor. She looks back at him and shrinks away from him. The fear in her eyes makes him instantly regret what he did. It tears his heart apart. 

“You crossed a fucking line and I don’t think I can handle this side of you anymore.”

He freezes as she grabs her purse and storms out of the room. Once she’s out of the room, the reality of her words sets in. He runs after her, “Angel, wait. I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t find her in the hallway and he rushes down the stairs to see if he can catch up to her. “She’s gone, Dude. Kelce is giving her a ride,” Topper announces from behind him. Rafe’s fingers go through his hair and he pulls, “Shit.” He totally fucked up. And he doesn’t know what he is going to do if he can’t get her back. 

———

He blocked her. He knows she did because the texts don’t show as being seen or even as delivered. It’s only been three hours but it has been the longest they haven’t talked and he is getting seriously concerned that they aren’t together anymore. He finally thinks he has figured out what to do. His knuckles wrap against her dorm door. He takes a deep breath, nervous she won’t open the door. His hand, not holding the bag and flowers, fidgets with his sleeve. The door swings open and her familiar scent fills his nostril. “What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I made it clear what I think we are,” she grumbles, trying to close the door in his face. He drops to his knees and this bars the door from shutting. His hands clasp in a plea, “Please, let me fix this, Angel. I can’t live with myself if this is where we end.” She shouldn’t. What happened early today was a red flag and she wouldn’t want to be someone who ignores those. Yet, something in her knew that even if she was scared at that moment, she should at least hear him out. 

“Fine, you have three minutes,” she orders, stepping back so he can enter her room. He rushes to his feet and he resists the urge to pepper her with kisses. He hands her the flowers, pulling out the phone box from the bag. He hands both to her. “These are for you. I’m sorry I broke your phone,” he apologizes. She takes them both and sets them on the table with a mumbled thanks. 

“Is that all you are going to say?” she prods. His head shakes vehemently, “No. No. No. Honestly, it’s only the start of a thirty-hour speech I made in my head. I’ll shorten it for your sake though.” She flicks her chin to get him to keep going. 

“There isn’t an excuse for how I reacted today. I let out a side of myself that I never wanted to be directed toward you and I will regret it for the rest of your life. I never should’ve thrown your phone or yelled at you. I let my insecurities and my worry get the best of me and it clouded my judgement. I know it was an accident, Angel. I should’ve believed you when you said it. I just get so anxious when I can’t be there to protect you because you are my whole life. And… And…”

Tears are formed in his eyes and his voice is breaking. She doesn’t need him to finish the sentence to know where it is going. They’ve never really needed words to communicate how they feel. Her need to comfort him overpowers her and she steps into his reach, wrapping her arms around him. He buries his head into her neck. His tears stain her skin. “Shh, it’s okay. You don’t need to finish. I understand and I forgive you. I couldn’t live with myself if I lost you,” she admits, running her hand through his hair. “Don’t misunderstand me though. Pull a stunt like that again and you won’t ever see me again.” His lips press against her skin. “I’d never dream of it.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: like Staind said in that one song, it's been a while.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Lloyd brings you down the flight of stairs, his arm through yours as you teeter in the heels. You’ve never been one for anything besides flats or sneakers. You’re getting acquainted to the painful arch of your feet and it’s doing little for your agitation. 

While this man might be entirely too direct at times, he can be just as vague. You still have no idea why you’re dressed like some dainty rose. Whatever delusion he’s living in, it’s not the fairytale he believes it is. 

Savoury aromas waft in the air and draw your nose towards the kitchen. You glance at Lloyd curiously. He puts his hand over yours and winks. You quickly turn your head straight. 

“Don’t worry, jelly bean, I got everything sorted. Can’t have you sweating up a storm in the kitchen. Private chef,” he clicks his tongue, “besides, our guests won’t settle for anything less.” 

You arch a brow but don’t ask. As much as you want to know who he’s expecting, you dread finding out. You highly doubt it’s good company. 

He takes you into the living room. A large chandelier dangles from the high ceiling, the long crystals casting marbled pale light around the space. The tall windows peer out onto the green lawn, dim in the rising evening hue. The ornaments are just as sleek and precise as every other room. Polished marble and spotless porcelain. 

As you take in the curved couch and round ottoman, Lloyd shifts your hand from the crook of his arm and tugs you to face him. He raises your knuckles high and kisses them. You blanch and resist the urge to pull away. His mustache tickles your skin. 

“Baby, you look spectacular,” he purrs, “did I mention that dress hugs your ass in all the right ways.” 

You bite down and nearly snatch your arm away. No. Don’t rile him. Tolerance will keep you safe.  

“You didn’t,” you murmur as he clings to your hand and places it against the chest of his jacket. He wraps you up in his arms as if he means to dance with you. 

“Well, shit, it really does,” his hands crawl down your sides and he scoops your ass up in his large hands, forcing a squeak from you as you press against his chest. “How about an extra dessert tonight?” He winks. “I bet it’s sweet, huh?” 

He leans in, nuzzling your forehead as he growls. You shudder, but he might mistake it for excitement. His nose brushes yours but his lips stop short of yours as a chime interrupts him. He freezes and reluctantly draws away. 

“Wait here,” he smirks and flutters his fingers longingly as he struts away. 

You blow out through your lips and swivel to glance around. It’s a nice place but you miss your apartment. You miss being alone. You miss when you didn’t know this man. 

You mash your hands together and wring them. You hear voices. A man and a woman. Great. This is really strange. You don’t understand what exactly he’s up to. Is he not afraid you’ll start begging for help? Somehow you don’t think that would do you much good. 

“She’s in here,” Lloyd’s voice carries through ahead of him, “mom, dad, my lady,” he waves towards you. 

You stand frozen to the floor. Uh. Mom? Dad? Oh gosh, it’s a family dinner. You blink and slowly step forward as Lloyd waves you closer. 

“My mother, Delores, and father, Lawrence,” he introduces the two other figures. 

The woman is tall and blond and statuesque. You feel even smaller in her presence. She looks down her long nose, her irises blue as ice, and her lips a soft shade of rose. Her hair is so icy, you can’t tell if it’s blonde or silver. 

The man is as tall as Lloyd, a little broader, and wears a cerulean jacket over black. His hair is streaked with the same sandy shade as his son, mingled with shocks of white. He tilts his head as he measures you, his eyes narrowing. 

“Hm,” that’s all you get. You feel much the same. 

“We’ve come all this way, tell me supper is ready,” the woman, Delores, tuts. “Crab cakes, right, honey?” 

She looks at her son and he frowns. His mustache makes the expression even more theatrical. You hate to disappoint but what did he expect? I mean, look at you. 

“And I appreciate you coming,” Lloyd says, sounding unlike you’ve ever heard him in your short acquaintance. Something about it is disingenuous, for as honest as that man can be. “We’re super excited to have you.” 

“Have you had those windows looked at?” The man stops to scope the ceiling to floor panes, “impractical things.” 

Lloyd’s shoulders square. You can’t see his face but you’re certain he’s not happy. You don’t see anything wrong with the place. It’s a bit over the top, too sleek, too shiny, but it’s not horrid. Most people can’t afford anything like it. People like you in your boxy apartment. 

“This way,” Lloyd says and waves them towards another doorway.  

He takes them across the entryway and you follow behind. The dining room has high ceilings and an overly long table. You can’t imagine anyone would ever need that many seats. 

Lawrence sneers with disapproval as Lloyd pulls out a chair for his mother. Delores primps herself as she sits, popping a compact out of her purse to touch up her lipstick. You stare from the doorway, drawn forward as your host clears his throat and eases another chair away from the table. 

You near and sit. His parents have even you on eggshells. You can tell they won’t be much help to you. You’ve got more than enough with their son. 

“I’ll just go check on dinner and you can get to know each other,” Lloyd declares as he claps his hands. 

You wince as his mother snaps the mirror shut and puts it away. She looks you up and down as you keep a dull stare. His father examines the butter knife as if searching for any speck of filth. 

“So, dear,” Delores begins. “Aren’t you a quaint one?” 

You scrunch your nose up. Quaint? You’re not a house. 

“Quiet, aren’t you?” She chuckles, “well, what do you do then? How’d he find you?” 

“Probably one of those websites again,” Lawrence grumbles and curls his lips. “Women these days, they’ll jump at a dollar sign.” 

You shake your head and tilt it. You’re not a mean person. You wouldn’t consider yourself malicious at all but he annoys you. And her. Their judgement reminds you of your schoolyard bullies. 

“I do data entry,” you answer, ignoring the snipe. “We met... uh...” you frown and look at the table.  

We met when your son stalked me and starved me out of my apartment. Yeah, you don’t think that’s going to get more than another condescending trill from her and indifferent grunt from him. You pick at your nail, the movement catching her eye, and you pull your hands apart and hide them behind the table. 

“We met...” 

“At the cafe,” Lloyd strides in and approaches the chair next to you, standing behind it, “supper will be out shortly.” He sits and grabs your hand, bringing it onto the tabletop, “you know, I saw her from across the coffee shop. Just waiting. I was just taken by her. Her effortless beauty--” 

“Effortless indeed,” Delores comments. 

You flick your lashes and glance over at your abductor. How is he preferable in this moment? You blink and turn your dull gaze ahead, staring through the blonde. You don't do well with confrontation, you're more the type for avoidance.

Lloyd quiets and brings his other hand up, chewing his fingertips before ripping them away from his mouth. He keeps his grip on you with his other and sighs. He looks up and shrugs. 

The silence doesn’t last long as several bodies enter and lay out plates in front of each seat. A man in a black jacket and chef’s cap emerges and announces the appetizer; crab cakes with black truffle crostini. You stare at the food. It doesn’t look very tasty; it’s too curated. 

“Mm, crab,” Delores sings as she picks up her cutlery, “how delightful.” 

“Yes, see, I remembered,” Lloyd utters. 

“All this flash,” Lawrence clucks as he lifts his fork, “you know, there’s more too life than show. Your fancy car, the house, your women...” 

“Dad,” Lloyd goes rigid, “she’s not just another woman. I wouldn’t bring you here if--” 

“Oh, no? The last one, I recall, was wearing a bright red thong. How do you think I know that?” The older man snips. 

“She’s not like that,” Lloyd rebuffs. “I told you, she’s different. She’s the one.” 

“Well, she definitely doesn’t talk as much as the last one,” Delores remarks tritely. “And Lawr,” she nudges her husband with her elbow, “she does have a certain allure. She definitely is... different.” 

Your brows nearly meet in the middle. You close your eyes to hide the roll. You exhale through your nose. You don’t care about these people. You don’t even want to be here. So, why try? 

That's it. Don't try. You don't need to impress any of them. You're not going to dance for them like they want you to. They aren't your parents and your own parents don't earn enough of your concern. You don't care about them and you definitely don't care about the man beside you.

Defence is the best offence, right? You're not going for an outright attack, that won't work. It's about repulsion.

You wiggle free of Lloyd’s grasp and surpass the cutlery to pick up the crostini with your fingers. You shove the whole cracker in your mouth and chew without caution. You hum and nod as you swallow it down. Maybe if you can disgust his parents enough, they’ll make him get rid of you. It’s not much of plan but more than you had before. 

“Oh my,” Delores hovers her cutlery over the crab cake and gapes at you. 

“Mm, oh my, good,” you speak through a full mouth. 

“Uh, right, mom,” Lloyd raises his voice, “did you try the wine?” 

“The wine,” you say through another mouthful, “mmm.” 

You slurp messily. Your heart is racing and your skin is tingly. You don’t talk in front of strangers often. Always mindful of every single action. You never want to draw attention. Never step out of line but now, you’re toeing every one. It’s embarrassing. 

“Lloyd,” Delores breathes. 

“Honey,” Lloyd touches your shoulder, “let’s slow down.” 

“I’m starving,” you argue and nearly choke, coughing into your hand. 

“We still have several courses,” he lowers his voice, “please, jelly bean, don’t do that.” 

“Do we have any more of this stuff,” you hold up the second crostini. 

“Please,” he begs and puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing. 

You smile, food in your teeth, and show it to the table. You’re going to barf, not just from the soft cheese but your humiliation. Hold it together, just a little longer. 

“She definitely is... something,” Lawrence says and sends his wife a look of disgust. 

You clear your plate as quickly as you can. The food is like rocks in your stomach. You’re not used to eating that much, not to mention, that sort of fare. It’s rich to the point of too much. 

You wiggle your nail between your teeth and pick at them until Lloyd grabs your hand. You flutter your lashes in his direction. You really think you might throw up. Not only because of the fishy taste in your mouth. 

Before you can think of your next move, the plates are cleared away and replaced with the next course. An entree of filet mignon and seasonal vegetables, as announced by the chef. You imagine it’s similar to what they serve in those fine restaurants you could never afford. 

“Fine cut,” Lawrence offers as he turns over the steak with his knife and fork. 

You saw through your own and look at the middle, “ew, is it supposed to be this colour?” 

The table is quiet as you poke at the steak with your knife. You push it to the edge of the plate and make a face. You poke at the roasted potatoes instead.  

“Rare,” Lawrence sniffs, “I’ll take the chef’s name.” 

“Can he make cheeseburgers?” You ask. 

“Jelly bean,” Lloyd hisses, “what’s going on? What’s wrong with you?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you shrug and look at your plate and huff, “fine.” 

Like a bratty kid you pout. You pick up the steak with your hand and gnaw on it, making it into an effort. Lloyd reaches over and takes it from you, putting it back on your plate. 

“Stop, please,” he begs. 

You shrug and wipe your hands on your dress. He latches onto your hand, gripping it tight until your joints hurt. You wince as he stands, still clinging to you. 

“I was meaning to wait until dessert but... she’s had a long day. She’s not feeling herself,” he reaches into his jacket with his other hand and turns. He looks down at you and clears his throat, lowering himself to his knee. His blue eyes meet your grimace. Oh, god. “Jelly bean, sweetheart,” he pulls out the velvet box and your stomach lurches, “will you--” 

You bend over your lap as you lose all control. You spew onto the floor, the sick splashing onto your feet and Lloyd’s pants. You cup your mouth as you puff, bile staining your tongue. You groan and stay folded over your knees. 

“Oh, Lloyd, you can’t mean to marry that?” Delores sneers. 

“Truly, son, you brought us here for... her? Really?” 

Lloyd looks at you and his forehead lines. He shakes his head and opens the ring box, picking the ring from the cushion, and grabs your hand. He shoves the row of large diamonds onto your finger. You stare at the sparkle in horror as you slowly sit up and he stands. 

“We are getting married,” he insists, “and I didn’t bring you here for your blessing. I only brought you to let you know.” 

“Married?” You and Delores echo in fraught unison. 

“Yes!” Lloyd stomps his foot, nearly stepping in the puke. “You can’t stop me, she can’t stop me,” he jabs his finger in the air, “no one can stop me!” 

“Settle down, boy,” Lawrence says. 

“Come on, baby,” Lloyd snatches your wrist and pulls you to your feet, “let me get you cleaned up.” He winks and wiggles his tongue out at you and his parents groan.  He curls his arm around you and lowers his voice to a whisper, "I got something else for you to choke on."

Well, that didn’t work. 

[personwhowrites]

Task Force 141 reactions + König to you putting stickers on them.

Fluff/ slight gn!reader x everyone.

König

At first he doesn’t notice, his too focus on something else. His mind wondering off to a comfortable space.

When he does notice it’s because you stand up and move closer to his face. He panics slightly thinking your going to hurt him. (Trauma)

When he notices the pad of stickers he stares at you. There is a thick silence that follows along that makes you quickly stop and give him a very nervous smile.

“..You have a unicorn?” König asks in a sort of whimper. “..think it would look nice..on me..?”

You smile to his words and show him your collection of stickers you brought this trip. He happily helps you put some on his uniform. Slightly chuckles to the fact how excited you are.

When often alone with you he would hand you random sticker packets he bought for you. Then sit down and wait for you to start your “artwork”. He also puts stickers on you if you’re comfortable enough to let him. He respects your personal space as you do his.

John “Captain” Price

His busy doing some report about an accident Soap caused with explosives again. You bored take out your secret supply of stickers and slowly open it.

Price heard the wrapper and stare at you. A long lingering stare before he sigh and placed his pen down. He pats his lap, you smile and rush over to him with your stickers at hand.

“You want a rainbow or a storm cloud?” You ask pointing at the stickers. “What do you think?”

“Whatever looks best on me doll.” Price says with a chuckle. “And whatever distracts you the most.”

With that you immediately start putting stickers on him. His arms, face, beard and even his hat. Price is one to not care what type of stickers you use on him. Just as long your distracted he is okay with it.

Price lets you put stickers on him very often. Even in front of the group or in meeting to get your mind distracted. He knows that you should be focusing at the task at hand, but he can’t bring himself to do so.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle was in his own head, playing on his phone. Unaware of your intensions to ruin him with stickers as you did with Price. He was aware of your behavior with Price and didn’t mind it as long no one else was harm.

When you suddenly appear next to him confusion took over. Kyle didn’t know why you would be near him if you two barely spoke a word to each other. Yet when he saw the stickers at hand he pulled another chair to him and extended his arm.

“Try to not get something too dark on me.” Kyle says with a warm smile. “Got it?”

You nodded and began to work. He seemed a little uneasy by your cold hands, but soon got used to it. Once done he would take a picture and smile at you. After that, putting stickers on him became a habit, Price of course secretly got jealous but found it okay later seeing that’s what got you and Kyle to talk more.

John “Soap” Mactavish

He was watching TV with Ghost. You were on your phone, messing with a game you found interesting. Ghost got up and left to smoke a cigar leaving you to Soap. You looked at soap and smiled.

When Soap saw you smile at him, he got worried. Soon you randomly pulled out stickers under a pillow and rushed at him. Soap soon also pulled stickers out the couch he was been wanting to use.

“Looks like we both have a secret hobby.” Soap says with a cheeky smile. “I bet I have twice as much as you.”

“No you don’t!” You say smiling wider as you unwrap the stickers.

You later found out Soap collects stickers and has been waiting for this moment with you. After hearing what you did to Kyle, excitement filled his body knowing he was going to be next for sure. He would hide stickers around the base so you two can decorate each other. Sometimes going overboard.

When alone you two make sure to cover each of your arms with stickers. It annoys Price and the others, but they get over it knowing it makes the two of you bond better. Soap buys you stickers from all over the world to make sure you never run out of them.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Ghost was always alert so you didn’t even try to sneak a sticker on him. Fear silent swept you as he looked at you from the corner of his eyes and watched your every move. Yet somehow you finally managed to have some bravery.

Ghost was reading a book on the couch. You were next him, stickers at hand and you stare at him, a long stare that finally got him to nod.

“Fine…Just not the mask.” Ghost says in a harsh tone. “Understand?”

You nod quickly and watch at Ghost puts his hand on your lap. You excitedly turn to open your bright stickers. Ghost sets his book down and watches you decide carefully what stickers to use on him. He even points out ones he wants.

You find out later if he never takes the stickers off. He just sets his glove over them and returns to you when they finally fall off or he washed them off. Ghost is one to soon buy you some stickers that fit more his theme and everyone’s theme.

Ghost does visit you late at night for stickers. Even if you’re tired he wouldn’t care much, he wants those stickers back on him one way or another.

[kingkatsuki]

Kaji in an apocalyptic setting where he takes extra risks in order to get his hands on lollipop bags

@katsukikitten sent me this ask ages ago, and I finally finished it Ilysm thank you🥺😭

Pairing: Kaji Ren x f!reader.

Warnings: Apocalypse AU, profanity. Not proofread!

Word Count: 1.3k.

“I don’t know how anyone can be so fucking stupid.”

You heard Sakura before you saw him, looking up from an old copy of Seventeen magazine you’d found inside the house you were currently staying in. Kotoha jolted awake beside you from the loud noise as the front door swung open.

“That’s it, just walk away.” He continued as he arguably became louder.

Kaji stormed in first, followed by an irate looking Hiragi and an exhausted Sugishita. Sakura was bringing up the rear as he continued shouting at his old senpai.

“What the hell happened?” You dropped the magazine onto the coffee table as you slipped out from beneath the blanket you were sharing with Kotoha, noticing Kaji avoiding all eye contact.

“You need to keep your voices down, you’ll wake the dead.” Nirei trembled at the same time, while Suo looked up from his book with a twinkle of amusement in the eye you could see.

“I think that already happened.” Kiryu offered with a wide smile on his face.

“Shut up.” Sakura bit back, dropping down into the seat you’d just vacated moments earlier as he slouched back against the soft cushion.

“Is someone going to tell me what the fuck happened?” You looked back at them with worry in your eyes as Kaji stormed past you.

“I don’t know, ask your boyfriend.” Kaji had already disappeared beneath the makeshift curtain to your bedroom, “Clearly he’s got a fucking death wish.”

“What?”

“Did you get the supplies?” Kotoha chanced asking from behind you, “Ume and Tsubaki are in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, we got ‘em—“ Hiragi started before being cut off by Sakura.

“No thanks to Kaji.” He pouted from his position on the couch, “If I wanted to die I’d take my chances with the undead.”

“What did he do?” You looked at Hiragi nervously.

“Just go and talk to him.” Hiragi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and calm himself down.

You raised a brow before turning on your heels to make your way back to the small room you shared with Kaji, hearing the tail end of the conversation from the living room.

“Ren, what happened out there?” You fixed the curtain before walking towards him.

Kaji slumped against your makeshift bed — your sleeping bags nestled on the floor — his nose scrunched in irritation as a you noticed something between his lips. His back propped against the wall.

“Nothin.” He replied bluntly, his voice muffled by the sucker that now sat positioned in his left cheek, causing it to bulge slightly as you raised a brow in confusion.

“Is that a lollipop?”

Kaji gave a shrug in response as you came closer, planting yourself on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Gentle fingers tentively reaching out to brush back the greasy hair that sat on his forehead to check the small red gash that now crossed his eyebrow.

“I need to get the first aid kit,” You murmured, “It might get infected.”

“S’fine.” He mumbled, catching you by surprise as he circled his arms around your waist to stop you from getting up.

“So are you gonna tell me what happened or am I gonna have to force it out of Hiragi?”

“We picked up everything we needed from the pharmacy,” Kaji mumbled, suddenly finding a stray piece of cotton on your worn jeans more interesting as he began to pick at the fabric, “And we were getting ready to leave.”

“Okay.” You tried to coax him, wrapping youe arms around his shoulders comfortably as you continued to listen.

“And it’s not like I meant for it to happen, it wasn’t my fault—”

You waited patiently for him to continue as he found the words, clinking the lollipop to sit on the flat of his tongue as he sucked hard before continuing.

“A shelf fell, and then another one and I got my leg trapped under it,” He scoffed, “I could’a got out of it myself.”

You frowned as he told the story, wondering whether that was why he’d come back covered in dirt with a cut on his face.

“But they tried to help me anyway, and the noise woke bunch of the undead and they blocked the exit.”

“Jesus, Ren.” You exhaled, your heart hammered against your ribcage at the thought as you imagined them fighting off a small hoard, “But Hiragi wouldn’t have been mad at you for that— accidents happen.”

“It’s because I went back for these.” He sighed, pulling out three lollipops from the front of his hoodie pocket and holding them out to you.

The only thing that kept him from exploding on all his friends on the walk home, and the main constant in his life before the world went to shit.

“Ren.” You wanted to hit him for risking his life for something so meaningless, but deep down you could understand it from his point of view.

You’d seen Kaji at some of his lowest points since the world had changed, having to find new and experimental ways to try and manage the beast inside him when you couldn’t just open Spotify and find a playlist or grab a pack of lollipops from the local konbini.

It was difficult for him to adjust, and you knew the random outbursts left him feeling shameful and guilty despite them never being his fault. You knew Kaji better than anyone, and you knew he’d never purposely endanger you or his friends. He’d do whatever it took to protect you, but it didn’t mean he wasnt still terrified of the old him coming out in this new world order.

“You should’ve left them,” You shook your head, “Your life is way more important than candy.”

“But I’m still here, ain’t I?” Kaji scoffed, “Dunno why they’re so mad, I would’ve been fine.”

“They’re mad because they worry about you,” You hum, dropping down onto his lap as he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, seeking out the warm comfort your touch provides.

“Yeah but if something went wrong they could’ve just left me there.” He rolled his eyes, “I’d rather die than survive on cough sweets another day.”

“Don’t say shit like that,” You glared at him, “They’d never do that, and if they did I’d go and find you myself.”

“You shouldn’t risk your life for me.” He shook his head.

“Well, I would.” You glared, “You better not risk your life like that again or I’ll kill you myself.”

Kaji’s lips curled into a smile at that as he positioned the lollipop stick to the corner of his mouth so he could lean forward and kiss you, feeling his chapped lips brush against yours as you tasted the artificial candy on them.

“What flavour is it anyway?” You pulled back before moving your hand to tug at the bottom of the stick inside his mouth, hearing it clink against his teeth before he parted his lips enough for you to pull it out, “Cola?”

Kaji’s lips curled into a small smile as you held the brown spit-soaked ball up to the air with a frown, wanting to roll your eyes at the insanity of it all, “You risked your life for cola chupa chups?”

“Hiragi risked his life for a pack of gas-kun 10s last month and you didn’t say anything.” He replied defensively.

“You risk your life for a cola chupa chups again and I’m definitely killing you myself.”

Kaji’s warm fingers brushed yours as he took the lollipop from your hands, lifting it up to press the hard ball of candy against your mouth as he pushed it past your pouty lips to shush you.

“You think you can silence me with candy?” You spoke around the sweet, narrowing your eyes at him as Kaji broke into a grin.

“I can think of a few other ways,” He murmured, reaching out to grasp the back of your head as he pulled you into a languid kiss, his tongue lapping at the cola sucker as you matched his movements.

[blue-babygirl]

The Stolen Donut

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Innocent!BAU!Reader

Type: Fluff

Description: You didn't know that Spencer doesn't like sharing his sweets nor did you know that they were his donuts. Oh well.

Warnings: Mentions of food.

Note: y/f/f = your favorite flavor

Everyone in the BAU knows not to touch Spencer’s sweets. Ever. Let alone eat them. At least that’s what they all think. Y/n has heard word spread around the bullpen when Spencer brings sweets to the office with a warning tone but never really heard the warning in them.

I mean, why would people gossip about someone’s food? That doesn’t even make sense.

So, when you see a box of donuts with a couple of your favorite flavors, you don’t hesitate too long before taking one, only waiting a couple seconds to consider that the person that the box belongs to won’t miss a donut all that much when they still have five more.

Leaving a couple two-dollar bills where the donut in your hand previously was, you wait for your coffee while savoring the donut that you had been craving for the past week but weren’t able to get until just now.

Two minutes later as you were getting your coffee ready after finishing off the donut, Spencer walks in with his own cup. You silently offer him the pot with a smile, receiving a grateful smile in return. With that, you go back to your desk next to Emily.

“Who ate my donut?” A voice booms across the bullpen, making everyone look at the entrance of the breakroom. There stands Spencer with his eyes set on you and the box of donuts, the one which you had stolen one from, in his hands.

Everyone is quick to deny even touching the box, making Spencer stride across the bullpen to your desk. He narrows his eyes at you, making you nervous, but you make sure not to show it. Instead, all he finds is the surprise written across your face.

Truth is, you are surprised. You didn’t think that Spencer Reid, the nerd, the sweetest guy in the BAU, the one that rarely ever raised his voice and usually at unsubs or people that deserved it, your crush, and apparently the owner of the box of donuts, would be this mad at having lost a donut. In that moment, you decide that you don’t want to find out what would happen if he were to know that you ate his donut.

“Was it you? Did you eat the donut? My favorite y/f/f donut?” Spencer stands tall in front of your chair, and you feel intimidated at the difference in your heights in that setting.

“Nope. I didn’t even know you brought donuts.” You shrug nonchalantly before taking a sip of your coffee.

“Just so you know, I’m not the one who ate it alright! I learned my lesson last time!” Emily defends herself from behind you when Spencer turns to look at her after your denial.

Spencer huffs before practically stomping to his desk, clearly still mad about the stolen donut. You hear him mumble how that was his favorite flavor with a pout as he sits at his desk, making you feel bad.

Now you know why word usually spreads so fast whenever Spencer brings sweets to the office. You feel bad for having stolen the treat and then lying to him for the rest of the day before deciding that you will just get him a couple more of the same as an apology.

The next day you are the first one at the office with a box of two of your, and apparently Spencer’s, favorite flavor of donut in one hand and a half-eaten donut in another. You stop at your desk to quickly draft a cute note saying that you were sorry and that the treat was to make up for the stolen donut.

Leaving the box with the note addressed to Spencer in the fridge felt safe considering how scared most people are of touching his sweets. Once done, you get the coffee pot started and get to work.

When Spencer steps foot into the bullpen, most of the team is already here along with a lot of other people so you are sure that he is not going to know that you are the one what left the donuts in the fridge. But you still get a bit worried when you see Spencer storm off to Penny’s office with the donuts. To say you are nervous for what might be about to happen when he gets back is an understatement. So, the relief you feel when the two of them come out together, talking happily with Spencer eating one of the donuts, is pretty immense.

You gather your things to get to the round table as Penny calls everyone in for the briefing. You are still unsure if Spencer knows that you are the culprit or not but with how happy he looks, you don’t feel too worried. But that doesn’t last long as he calls your name after the quick briefing for your next case as everyone left the room to meet at the jet.

“What’s up?” You make sure not to let your nerves show in your voice. You fail.

“You know,” Spencer smiles as he comes closer to you and you realize what they mean when they say their knees went weak in those books, “you could have just asked for a donut Y/n. I wouldn’t say no to you.”

“Um... I’m sorry! I didn’t know they were yours! I just-” You stop when you hear him chuckle, making you pout slightly.

“Y/n, I like you and I don’t mind sharing my sweets with you. But that’s the extent of it, only you are allowed to have my sweets, okay?” Spencer grins as your cheeks turn crimson.

“Y-you like m-me? Like… like-like?” You ask him with wide eyes, not quite believing that your crush, who had been really mad yesterday, was confessing to not only liking you but also that he didn’t mind sharing his sweets with you.

“Yes, I like-like you. And I was hoping that you like-like me too. So, how do you feel about going to a cake-testing event with me?” Spencer leans against the table, rubbing the back of his neck as he slightly blushes.

“As a date?” Your eyes go even wider as if that was possible as he nods. “I would love to! Oh my god, yes yes yes!!” I jump forward and hug him without thinking, pulling back when you realize what you are doing. “W-we should pr-probably get going. Before everyone leaves.”

Spencer agrees as you make your way to the door with flaming red cheeks only to be greeted by the rest of the team outside the door, grinning at you, making you both blush even more if that was even possible.

“My man’s finally got game!” Derek laughs as he pats Spencer’s back.

The girls surround you, congratulating you and announcing a mandatory team night out after your date with Spence. Dave and Hotch congratulate you and Spencer before heading the team to get to the airport.

It’s safe to say that you came back with a boyfriend from your case.