#and the feeling of waking up too ; like they instantly want to be productive

[soullessseraphim]

Human Valdemar has to sleep 😔😔😔

I like to think they absolutely hate it - because they get less time at the hospital grgrgr how dare this human body hold them back !! >:(( I'm pretty sure they get like 4 hours of sleep every night and on their day off they just... take it to sleep and nothing else.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

MADE HIS MARK

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Synopsis: a shivery trip to a liquor cellar turned into a steamy secret between friends and a not-so-subtle reveal between a small herd of colleagues. Word Count: 5k+ WARNING: SMUT. please, please, MDNI !!! penetration (piv). unprotected sex (but fr wrap it up!!!). fingering (a lil bit). obsessed!spencer (bc why not?). ex friends with benefits to lovers. a pinch of angst if you squint. cursing. troublemaker spencer reid and reader. not proofread!! A/N: heavily influenced by the song Dress by Taylor Swift. I love me a TS song. I'm obsessed, and I saw the opportunity. Also, this is my first Spencer Reid smut fic. Be nice, and tell me what you think!

  The sharp brush of spring and little kisses from the evening air prompt you to savor the shivery feeling on your skin.

  You take a deep breath before sliding your heels off, dangling them in your hand as you trail down the maze of a hallway in Rossi’s lavish home. Your dress is now a product of a shoddy decision. 

  All you knew was how presentable and wedding-appropriate it was, but you never realized why you would wear such a dress barely sewn for the crisp evening weather in May.

  “Hiding from everyone?”

  A smile instantly layers over your painted lips before you can even raise your gaze ahead. There’s this tickle of warmth that sparks inside of you the moment you hear his voice. Hands shaking in an intense subconscious buzz of excitement. Thrilling.

  No other than Dr. Spencer Reid is ten feet away from you, standing lazily against the wall. His hair is messy from all the magic tricks he tore out to Jack and Henry and, funnily enough, Penelope, too.

  Bright gleam shines on your face, flashing a saccharine smile you can only muster when the receiver is him. You shake your head.

  "Are you?"

  One hand in his pocket. Spencer shyly nods, “I ran out of magic tricks, and Jack figured out one of my tricks halfway through my little show.” He explains without persuasion, staring into space with playful horrid written all over his face.

  You steal the half-full glass from his other hand, cringing at the taste of sparkling cider. “One sip won’t kill you, you know…” You say, shoving the glass back into his hand.

  Spencer laughs, “You’d love to see me drunk, don’t you?” He quips, a sheepish smile growing with each syllable.

  “Very much so,” You nod, making a beeline to the kitchen to find some kind of beverage that’ll knock you out ‘til the next day.

  He follows you like a tail. Your senses feel his warmth, his breath fanning against your exposed back. The feeling of his tall presence behind leaves your breath hitching between inhales and exhales, and you’d love more than his figure on your trail. You ache for something more than the image of him in your wake. You need him merged with your soul, his body tightly pressed against yours. You crave something harsh.

  It’s wishful thinking.

  “What took you so long? Did you not notice I was gone?” He wonders.

  Or is it?

  “It’s cold out here, you know,” Spencer pouts in your peripheral. 

  You want your lips to wipe them off, then turn them into an O.

  “Aww, does pretty boy genius feel lonely?” You tease over your shoulder, tapping his chest with the back of your hand. Your brows jump, twisting on your heels to face him. “I’ll be damned,” You exclaim, pushing your palm against his pec with more pressure.

  It's been so long since you touched him with more than an accidental brush of your fingertips. His body stiffens under your light squeeze. And the thirst for more slowly dries the circumference of his throat.

  “Reid, when’d you get this fit? No wonder women are all over you.” Genuine curiosity takes over, looking up at him with fluttering lashes.

  Spencer scoffs, leaning down eye to eye with you, “I’ve always been hot.” He retorts with a straight face. The confidence radiates, and it does something in the pit of your stomach.

  A brief silence whooshes between your bodies, and the next thing you know, both of you are laughing ‘til your cores cramp.

  You gasp for air, head against his sternum, hand still placed over his pec. “Don’t ever say that in front of Morgan. He might get a stroke.” You begin walking once more, turning your back to him. 

  “I am! Don’t you agree?” You do. He banters a few feet away, keeping a safe distance—or so help the impulsive thoughts that are whirling around his mind. A playful grin works his facial muscles out, only hoping that you didn’t notice the way he takes in your scent like a bait set out for him.

  Spencer didn’t even need to run to catch up with you. His strides are five times longer than yours.

  You feel a soft fabric cover your shoulders, accompanied by a heavy arm that burns your skin in pure reflexive need. “I thought you were cold?” You ask, glancing to your left, where Spencer walks beside you.

  Spencer shrugs, “Rather feeling cold than you getting a cold tomorrow morning. The chances of me getting sick from being cold tonight versus you sneezing on me like a troll is 15 to 85 percent.” He replies calmly, earning a light smack from your hand.

  You roll your eyes, but your smile never travels far. It only happened once. And you both swore once was enough.

  The two of you became friends during your time in the Academy. You’ll never forget the first time you met him. The urge to shove a sock inside his yapping mouth over the repercussions of shaking someone’s hand. Most people say the two of you are best friends. Somehow, his intelligence didn’t set you apart. You tolerated his constant rambles, and he tolerated your random bursts of sass. 

  It's more than that though. The entanglement was more than two friends. More than innocent study sessions. More than a trip to the nearest shooting range.

  As two twenty-one-year-olds who's never felt the most sensual touch before, one minute of forced proximity and all hell broke loose. What seemed so platonic was sexually intimate behind closed doors.

  However, in lieu of staying attached to the hip, the two of you went your separate ways after graduation. You went to pursue each respective interest. You both said no hard feelings. And both believed things would never work anyway, because no one was willing to put in the work.

  The two of you reconnected when you joined the BAU team almost a year ago. Meeting him once again was nerve-wracking. With unresolved fallout and nonexistent communication, it scared you a bit. But you should’ve known Spencer Reid has always been different—good, different. The bond you had didn’t seem too damaged. If anything, it was merely locked in a vault and became stronger than ever before. You managed to be civil—become friends.

  And since then, you never ran out of ways to be in each other’s vicinity. Or he just always succeeded in keeping you interested in his antics. Or you’re just addicted to him more than you’d like to admit.

  But friends don't shake from mere self-control. Friends don't choke on breaths when the other touches them. Friends don't—

  “What percentage of alcohol will you get from Rossi’s cellar?” He curiously asks, his warmth keeping you from shivering.

  The damned dress.

  And his damned loose tie.

  You chuckle shakily, “You’d love to see me drunk, don’t you?” You mimic, throwing back the same antic he used not a few minutes ago. He rolls his eyes, and you open the door to the cellar. “I was tasked to choose the best whiskey ever made.” You announce, sinking deeper into confinement.

  “So you lost a bet.” Spencer laughs, following behind. He shakes his head when you nod yours. “You don’t even drink whiskey.” He smirks.

  “Go back out there, then,” You shoo him away, waving your hands. “I didn’t ask you to join me on my quest.” You add in a giggle, tying your hair up in a messy ponytail after setting your shoes on the table in the middle of the room.

  You don’t see the way he swallows at the sight of your nape. The same way you hadn't notice his self-restraint for the past year, for the entire evening, dipping his hands in his pockets to hide his clenched fists. Because if he doesn't, they just might crave the feeling of your skin against the texture of his palm.

  “And what if you can’t reach the best whiskey?”

  “I’m a federal agent, too, Reid. I’m smart enough to figure that out.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re similar to a hobbit.”

  The brows on your face lift over your forehead. "Excuse me?" Your mouth fall agape in disbelief, scoffing.

  Spencer shrugs, "You're excused."

  Amusement twitch the ends of your lips. "You sure you're not drunk?" Your eyes narrow, scanning him from head to toe.

  "I'm not." He defends. Scarlet skin glows underneath the soft light. Spencer averts his eyes, stealing a mouthful of a sigh from the chilly air. Okay, maybe he stole one glass of scotch from the unit chief, took a sip, and felt his body on fire, so now he's settled down for ciders the entire evening.

  You smirk, "Then, why are you being so clingy?" Arms cross over your chest. You raise a brow in question.

  Spencer rolls his eyes, silently clearing his throat. "Why not? There's no harm in hanging out with you." His tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek.

  "There is when said friend is acting like a clingy boyfriend." You say, skimming through the shelves of liquor adorning the walls from ceiling to floor.

  “Right,” Spencer states blandly, finding himself a seat. “I’m just a friend. I can’t act any other way. I can’t even give you any affection, huh?” He deadpans, tracing the wood patterns on the table.

  Your eyebrows crease in the middle of reaching for a bottle. You slowly go up behind him and smack the back of his head without warning.

  “Ow!” He hisses. “What was that for?” Spencer complains, face scrunching in temporary pain.

  “For being weirder than usual.” You say, hitting his shoulder. “Stop it.” You scold, finger-pointing over his chest.

  Spencer is not one to be petty. Never petty over the boys you mingle with for a short period. Never be petty over your tendencies to somehow land on the worst species of men. Since the two of you reconnected as colleagues, he's minded his business. Why now? And why the hell is your heart pounding obnoxiously?

  He theatrically rolls his eyes, “Am I wrong? Aren’t I just your friend?” There is something in his tone that you can't distinguish. His face is awkward and reserved, as always, but something is different.

  You know. You just love lying to yourself.

  “What else are you going to be?!” Even you are surprised at the volume of your voice.

  The creak of the small open window fills the room. None of you dares to say a word. No one dares to breathe within each other's personal bubble.

  You break eye contact first, stepping away, but Spencer has other plans. His hands land on your waist, gripping the flesh to keep you between his legs.

  “That’s a question I’ve been asking myself,” The luminescence of his eyes turns a shade darker. Chocolate hazel eyes gradients to deep earthy irises. Or it may have been the dim lighting in the room and the glass of wine in your system.

  You swallow—roughly like a ball of sandpaper rows down your throat. Fingers lace above his textured ones, wrapping over the long digits to get their bruises off your skin.

  “It’s a simple question. There’s no reason to dread it.” You almost stumble on your words, taking well-needed pauses to huff a small breath. You try to break his grip on you, but they don’t budge one bit. 

  The more you attempt to remove his hold, the more they tighten against the little fabric over your skin.

  Your brows knit. A sigh of defeat escapes your lips as your gaze travels back to him. “Spencer, stop—” Your spine shivers when he starts to lazily move his thumbs in slow, firm strokes.

  Spencer stands in silence, staring at you like you are a doe he preyed on. His eyes start to make your legs melt, and your heart races wildly.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  His gaze flickers over your lips, “Why don’t you answer the question for me? Since you’re so smart, it seems.” A tone of clear mockery spills from his lips. Spencer smirks under his signature smile—smug and utterly amused by the sound of your small, hitched breaths.

  “Can you stop kidding around?” You prattle. A peel of awkward laughter shoots straight down your bones. It was all you could do to relieve the growing tension between your thighs. Or else you’d jump on him like a desperate psychopath.

  "Who says I'm kidding around?" Spencer narrows his eyes. "I never kid around." He squeezes your sides once more and grins when a soft gasp rattles out of you. He hasn't done that in so long, and the nostalgia and buzz spark something in his chest.

  Thick, airy gulp forces itself down your throat. You know why he does it. The same pattern of movements you knew so well in your younger days. The days you spent with him.

  "We can't." It is almost inaudible, but he catches it. You lightly shake your head, backing away, "I-it's not— We can't."

  Spencer raises his brows. "What are you so afraid of?" He reads your features for a moment. The gentle touch of his gaze along your searing skin is electrifying.

  You nibble at the corner of your lip, "Let go of me, Reid." And it seems you love lying to him, too. Because you don't want him to let go. Desperate for his touch. The soft trail of his thumb. The primal clutch of his fingers, like they were claws. It was all too intoxicating to ever want him to let go.

  “Answer the question first.” He flashes the smirk he’s been trying to hide like a villain, exposing his true colors. “I dare you.” Spencer challenges.

  “You know the answer.” Your chest feels like exploding.

  “Say it out loud, then.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because we’re not leaving this position until you do.” His voice sparks fire in your core. Spencer doesn’t let his eyes stray from your moving lips. If anything, he makes a point that he is, in fact, staring at them like a starving lion, ready to pounce at any given moment.

  Oh.

  Well, isn't he such a sweetheart to feed you just what you crave? You don't know where it comes from, nor do you care, but there's at least four liquid cubic centimeters of boldness that flows through your veins.

  Your laughter echoes in the cellar. “Please, or what?” You relax in his hold, convinced that he's just the same lanky guy you've always known. “You going to fuck me like a slut? Not exactly your M.O., pretty boy.” You tease, playfully tapping on his shoulders.

  A low, hoarse chuckle vibrates across his chest. With lust-filled gaze and a thin, mischievous smile, Spencer shifts his eyes to look straight into yours. 

  “Exactly.”

  Your eyes grow the widest they have ever been your entire life. “What—” Before you can stop him, his lips are already clashing against yours.

  Spencer holds onto you as if he is falling off a cliff, and you are a branch about to snap any second. He kisses you aggressively, pulling you so tight, like he needs you glued to him.

  You try to push him, but it doesn't take long until you give in. Until you kissed back.

  You kissed him back.

  You fucking kissed Spencer back.

  The hands that recently danced on his shoulders begin to tug on the soft curls over his nape. The weight of his lips is starting to make your legs wobble.

  Every scrape of his teeth against your stinging lips feels new. It isn't what you're familiar with. Your mind recalls his gentle touches and gentle words as if you'd break if he held you too tight. But the one kissing you isn't. The slice of his tongue over your lips is primal. He's not the Spencer you once knew. He's the Spencer you've been craving, so much so that the mere thought of bruises caused by his grip has been contaminating your mind since you started in the BAU.

  His kisses deepened, warmth enveloping the two of you despite the chilly breeze inside the cellar. With breathless and plump lips, a new strike of desire courses throughout your body the longer you kiss.

  Spencer breathes you in like oxygen, starving for more, never satisfied with just one gentle breath. It's new. And you love it.

  Heaving, you and Spencer pull away, lips detaching and reattaching like magnets ’til distance is too far to push back. His lips are a darker shade of pink, swollen, and adorned with smeared lipstick. You don’t doubt the effect of making out with him gives you any more leverage, imagining your lipstick thickly outlines all over the rims of your mouth.

  Judging by how Spencer stares at you like a satisfied drunken man, you presume he's loving every second more than he's prepared to admit. Most will wonder if his eagerness is merely a product of lost inhibitions. But a simple educated guess tells you that none of his actions are driven by alcohol. He's as sober as an ice cold water splashed over one's face.

  Spencer lifts you on the table, standing between your thighs. The fabric of his pants scrapes against your skin, and your aching cunt throbs at the feeling. He cups your face into his large hands, reattaching your lips once more like it’s an unforgivable sin to keep them apart.

  He pulls away after air fails him, resting his forehead over yours. “I want to be the only one who gets to fuck you like a slut, or so God help me—” Spencer closes his eyes agonizingly slow, “—No man near you will ever see daylight again.”

  Your heart pounds against your chest, and you mentally beg Spencer to do so too—pound against your hips like you’re banned from ever walking again. The pressure of his voice and hot breath fanning against the land of your skin is ecstatically satisfying. 

  Spencer's hand drives up the slit of your dress, and at that moment, you know exactly why you chose to wear such an article of unfriendly clothing amidst your intolerance to the cold wind.

  You wanted him to take it off of you.

  You needed Spencer to take the dress off of you and fuck you hard.

  The tickle of his lips trailing from your jaw to the spot underneath your earlobe has your back arching almost a hundred and eighty degrees. Ever the opportunist, Spencer takes it as his chance to pull you closer, squeezing your thigh with his palm.

  You throw your head back, giving him access to more eager-to-be-touched skin. Legs wrap around his middle in utter pleasure, “Spencer…” You whine breathily, eyes fluttering close at the way he holds your flesh with both hunger and caress.

  His mouth falls agape. Your voice. His name. It’s addicting. His world stops in a millisecond, reveling in the joy of your mouth, uttering his name with the intense pleasure he provides.

  “We’re barely starting,” Spencer whispers against your clavicle, snaking his hand under your dress to the lining of your underwear. He swipes over your clothed clit.

  You twitch under his touch. A total puppet wrapped around his finger while his literal thumb begins to toy with your clit. The pace makes you painfully and deliciously squirm.

  Spencer loves the image before him, especially the rise of your chest as he plunges a finger, then two, inside your needy cunt. It’s the first time he’s ever heard your moans so... needy and begging and desperate and sweet and hot and something he knows you’ve never reached the volume before with other men, and he’s hooked—addicted.

  “You have no idea what your dress did to me the whole night.” He muffles on your neck. Wet kisses echo at the touch of his lips. Spencer buries himself in your scent, one hand unzipping your dress. “No idea how much I wanted to take it off of you.” He whispers next to your ear.

  A hum spills at the ring of his words. His kisses start to sting, and burning hues form on your skin. Spencer marks you with his tongue and teeth.

  It's euphoric. His hunger. His need. And you want nothing else but to give him whatever he wants, the same way he gives you everything you need.

  The sound of his fly distorting in the air makes your skin tingle, nipples perk, and cunt quiver. You whine when he pulls away, already missing his heat. 

  Spencer’s eyes soften, “Are you sure you want this to continue? When we were friends with benefits things didn't work—”

  “Shut up, take my dress off, and fuck me, Spencer.” You heave, or beg, or whichever fits the way you eagerly undo his tie and unbutton his shirt while kissing the soft spot on his neck, marking him yours.

  The vibration of his chuckles sent delicious throbs down to your cunt, drooling to be filled by him.

  “Aren't you needy—” Spencer lifts his arms in defense, “—alright, shutting up now.”

  The cold is nowhere else but the back of your mind. You feel wetness on the peak of his boxers. Spencer's hard erection suffocates him, and you're eager to relieve him in every possible way.

  He immediately sighs when your dress droops down your waist. Spencer takes you in as if you're the most prized art in a museum. He takes every line, scars, birthmarks, or as simple as the crease of your breast into memory. 

  “So, so beautiful…” Spencer murmurs in sheer adoration and awe. He looks up as if God has listened to his prayers as if he’s a passionate believer. Thankful to have you within his reach.

  Warmth coats you with every sweep of his hand on every curve and slope of your body. He’s memorizing each soft plush and perfect flaw. The sentiment alone heightens your arousal like you’ve been touch-starved for years.

  A yelp comes out of you when he unexpectedly spreads the wetness on your folds, touching where you need him most. “Spencer, please…” It’s a plea. A begging need.

  He circles on your clit with more pressure than the first. “You ready for me?” A vigorous nod responds to him while you bite your moans to keep them at bay.

  Spencer pulls you closer by the small of your back. Your ass is almost falling off the edge of the table. The lacey cloth stretched on the side of your entrance. He aligns his slobbering tip with your equally desperate cunt.

  Unsatisfied by your response, Spencer grabs your chin with so much force your bitten lips set free. “I need a verbal answer, sweetheart. I need to hear your voice say the words.” He’s begging, too, aching to slam just about all of him in one push.

  The anticipation is frustrating. "I wa—" With a mere echo jumping out of your throat, Spencer takes it enough confirmation and thrusts his hips to meet yours.

  Temporary pain and electrifying pleasure cause your body to shake, followed by a pornographic moan that Spencer muffles with his hand over half of your face.

  Your mind spins around in endless bliss as his cock throbs at the pressure of your hold. Spencer doesn't move an inch, waiting for your signal.

  “Please… move. Now.” Your voice is caught in the middle of your throat, dragging into a lovely gasp when he pulls back slowly.

  With the tip of his cock the sole filler inside your cunt, Spencer thrusts back so fast, so good. He keeps a steady pace that leaves both of you a moaning mess. 

  Spencer pins your hips on the table, making sure he satisfies you with every force. He sucks a breath in, dizzy at the sight of your breast bouncing on his beat.

  Can he surpass the knowledge that other guys have seen you undone like this? Never. Will he clash heaven and hell for the sake of pleasing you? The almighty and the merciless needn’t make yet another bet because they know Spencer will drag anything, anyone, to kneel before you.

  Because Spencer needs you undone like you have never been before. He craves to be the first to fuck you like it's the last thing you’ll ever do.

  You're addicting. An influence he freely lets himself get sucked in. Spencer wishes he could brand himself with your name, eager to be yours. He's desperate to be called yours.

  Spencer adorns your skin with red and purple hues, beaming at the sight of his marks with every echo of his lips popping yet another possessive tattoo.

  The pleasure he gives sends you beyond time and space. Euphoric daze fogs up your brain. Vision locked inside your skull, eyes permanently rolled into sensual darkness.

  “Spence…”

  Fuck. The nickname drips perfectly off your lips. You and only you can make his cock even harder just by saying his name. He doesn’t try to keep his head from spiraling into desires, desperately imagining all the ways he can own you.

  You gasp shakily, feeling the knot in your abdomen begin to tighten. One, two—five more strokes and you enter a void filled with sparkling stars and mind-numbing pleasure.

  Spencer doesn't stop, just as you wish, through broken moans and nails digging into the thin layer of his skin. Not a single pace slower or faster. And it is fucking blissful.

  Your moans drool off your lips, clenching around his cock. He rides your high like a limited experience that he will never get to try again. Though, you're sure there’ll be more clandestine rendezvous than you both are willing to admit. You both know this isn't the last you’ll ever get a taste of him. And it is not the last time he’ll crave you like oxygen.

  A hand reaches out for his nape, carding your nails at the tangles of his hair. You begin to comb between his curly strands, massaging the scalp beneath. Spencer spits out a tasteful curse dedicated to the pleasure the sensation of your touch has given him.

  “I keep up with my pill. I’m on a good window.” You assure him, breath hitching. “Fill me up, Spence.” You implore greedily, wanting nothing but all traces of him engraved inside and outside of you.

  His mouth slacks open, burying his cock in the deepest part of you. “Fuck, you’re too good to me,” He hisses in utter bliss. Spencer jolts at the ecstasy that vibrates out of him, emptying himself through the depths of your walls.

  Spencer rests his forehead against yours, whispering praises like you suddenly became his goddess. His senses tingle. And he doesn’t want time to continue.

  Your ragged breaths sync with his and soon turn even. Years of yearning are fulfilled in one evening. The prick of his bites floods your senses. 

  “What was the question again?” You giggle out, still, a bit out of breath, breaking the silence.

  Spencer playfully rolls his eyes, zipping up the back of your dress with a kiss on your shoulder. “I basically asked, ‘What are we’ like a typical chick in a movie.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that.” Your sweet laughter follows while Spencer covers you once more with his jacket despite the clear indication of sweat glistening over your forehead that you’re not nearly as cold anymore. "That many?"

  Pride surges across his chest, beaming. "Like a canvas drenched with paint." He softly bites his lower lip, satisfied by the work he has done.

  You glance down, gasping at the sheath of love bites. "More like a slab of beaten up flesh." Your head lifts up to look at him in disbelief. Spencer painted every inch of your skin, no space left untouched. You don't even recognize your skin anymore.

  "Maybe this will help," He reaches on the back of your head, tugging on the band. Your hair drapes over your neck.

  "No, Reid. It does not help at all." Blinking, you slap his arm lightly, earning a shrug and a peck on your lips. He simply fastens the buttons of his jacket on you, covering everything the fabric can.

  He hunches down to pick up the tie you discarded on the floor. When he stands back up, he says, “We can keep this between us for now while we figure things out if you’d like. But we have to agree on one thing.” He tucks in a wild strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m yours, and you don’t have a choice. Sounds good?”

  You giddily smile, nodding as you dangle your weak legs over the table. “What about me? Can’t I be yours?” You coax, fixing his tie.

  "Do you want to be? Because I'm content with just pleasing you every chance I get. I'm not in a rush."

  "Spencer," You take his face in your hands. "Do you really want to just be friends with benefits?"

  He swipes his tongue over his lower lip. "No..." Spencer squeaks under his breath.

  You nod, humming. "Good, because I don't want you like a best friend either." You flatten the crease on his shoulders.

  "So?" Spencer chases your eyes, hoping he can read your mind.

  "So, you're mine, and I'm yours. Sounds better, don't you think?"

  "Sounds great." He simpers, helping you get back on your feet.

  The two of you come back to the others with the worst whiskey in the cellar. Your hair is neat, and your lipstick is replenished. His tie sits presentably on his chest and hides the smallest purple mark on the base of his neck. Intricate measures for intricate people.

  Derek complains. Penelope agrees. Rossi objects. Hotch sips his drink with no care. Emily laughs hysterically. JJ shrugs. 

  No one knows. Or no one cares. But the secret remain as is.

  Perks of being seen as the most platonic friends. More so than the great Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia. What they know nothing about won’t hurt them, right? And it’s not like it’ll be any worse if they did.

 Yet the absence of suspicion brews boredom and discontent. How come the others are suspicious enough, but not you and him? What's so dull in the air between you and Spencer that no one dares to wonder if romance ever crossed your minds?

  Spencer drags his fingers on your thigh under the table. And no one suspects why you never take off his jacket despite dancing the night away. 

  And as the night deepens, like any other gathering, the group disperses into different areas and smaller groups.

  “So?” JJ starts, wiggling her eyebrows. 

  “What?” You chuckle into the wine in your glass.

  JJ rolls her eyes, “Did you give the photographer your number?”

  Oh, yeah. You’d forgotten about the entire thing, glancing at the photographer who happens to have his lens on you. He smiles shyly, but you swear in your life that your shy boy is a lot more charming.

  “Because if not, I think Will’s cousin has his eye on you, too,” JJ adds with a mischievous smile. The most supportive friend you’ll have. How will she react when she finds out?

  You smile, looking far ahead at the pair of brown eyes.

  Spencer returns the smile, Hotch’s voice muffling in the background.

  “Like I said, it’s quite a little paperwork, but if you want to try things out and date, I have no problem with helping you out,” Hotch advises between sips of warm whiskey, talking about that one agent who approached Spencer at the bullpen thrice. What will he think when he finds out two of his agents are participating in fraternization?

  They have no idea. Not an inkling of doubt whatsoever.

  The naivete. It bores you and Spencer. It’s prosaic. It’s unglamorous.

  From one end to another, the same words echo.

  “I’ll have another drink.”

  The two of you stand from each end, meeting over the table with vast choices of alcohol. You pick up a glass as Spencer stands next to you.

  “Take it off?”

  “Take it off.”

  And you went separate ways.

  JJ’s eyes widen at the small hint of marks on your chest, jacket slightly drooping over your shoulder.

  Hotch doesn’t say a word when he notices the hickey on Spencer’s neck when the younger agent loosens his tie and undoes one button—and Hotch quotes—because of the heat. His peripheral catches JJ, Emily, and Penelope hovering around you like a group of crows scavenging for some sort of fleshy information he thinks he knows what’s about.

  “A simple no would’ve suffice,” Hotch says evenly. “But you’re still filling out paperwork. Am I clear?”

  Spencer stifles a smug smirk, looking down on his drink. “Clear.”

reid masterlist | masterlist

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖙 [Final]

They told you to be careful with him, that he's much more than meets the eye, but you'd been convinced that you had him all figured out; all bark and no bite, just like any other big buff alpha you've met before. Oh how wrong you were.

Tags/Warnings: werewolf!kook, Alpha!kook, werewolf!reader, omega!reader, fluff, biting, manhandling, Dom!Jungkook, protected sex (an implant is mentioned we practice safe sex even in our imagination after all), Size kink because it's me writing this get over it, strength kink because it's me writing this get over it², drooling oops, scratching, knotting, happy ending Yay

Length: ~4k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Do not expect anything groundbreaking. I didn't know how to end this.

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Inside Jungkook’s cabin, you’re safe.

Here it’s warm, it smells like him and now, slowly but surely, yourself as well. It’s comfortable, you’re protected, and held gently by him right by your side. Here is where you actually want to live forever, inside, even if you were never allowed to leave ever again. The woods around you don’t matter, nor does your freedom-

All you want, and really need, is in here.

There’s a low, almost purring sound coming from the alpha behind you, his arms wrapping around you a bit tighter, as if he remembers in his waking moments that you’re actually still here, and not just a product of his imagination. He takes in a deep breath before he stretches his legs once, kissing the back of your shoulder, halfway still asleep.

Even so, with how close he is behind your body, you can clearly feel that something else about him is waking up as well.

You teasingly press yourself into him, which almost instantly gives you a response- his tender kisses turning into bites, as he scolds you non-verbally, even when his mind isn’t quite conscious yet. “Good morning.” He mumbles, laughs a bit when you turn around in his arms to cuddle right back into him, yawning once. “Slept well?” he mumbles, and you nod.

He can sense that you’re very happy in here, and he takes great pride in that- feeling good with the fact that you’ve obviously accepted his home as yours too.

But there’s also something else you seem to seek right now, as you place your own kisses against his neck, trying to somehow swoon him into a response again, maybe to finally receive his love in a more physical way. And he wants that too- but not right now. He wants to be fully awake and alert for an experience like that, and not somewhat semi-conscious like right now.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t allow to play with you a little bit.

When your hands begin to travel over his body, he doesn’t object that at all- simply watches with hooded, halfway opened eyes how you blindly reach for him, hand over his already sensitive length inside his underwear a little hesitant, unsure, but curious all the same. It’s the first time you’re the one initiating something actively- usually, you only really give him a sign, before letting him do most of the active play. But maybe because you feel so safe and comfortable in his home, you also feel more confident in your actions-

Or your patience is simply wearing thin at this point.

Either way, he thoroughly enjoys your touch fully, even adjusting his legs beneath the blankets to instead move to lay on his back, making you move around to leave him alone for just a moment- before you lay yourself over him, warm core right above his only somewhat hidden length. The fact that only some thin, fragile clothing separates you both from one another makes him sensitive- the thought of how easy it would be to just rip those poor items of clothing at their seams to provide him access to you enough to cause him to stir a little beneath you.

His hands automatically find your waist before he wraps his arms around you again, moving them again to hold your face and kiss you, still somewhat tired. You remember your first kiss, yesterday, almost entirely without any thought- and ever since then, it’s clear that he really enjoys having his lips on yours. He’s also been going further and further with you- and the line has been blurring more and more, as he accepts and provides more intimate touches every single time you’re together in such a way. From his more fleeting touches back at your old pack’s house, to what you are doing right now- your core pressing against his length, shamelessly humping him beneath all the heavy blankets, desperate for him to feel just as much as you do.

And he does feel it.

His hands move again as you kiss him a lot more desperately now, running over your sides before they rest over your behind, grabbing the flesh just to let go right after. You sigh in bliss, lean into him as you move your hips a bit harsher, chasing your release, and subsequently also pushing him towards his own. He can only imagine what it will be like once he has you close like this without anything between you both- just two bodies connecting in the most intimate of ways, finalizing their bond with one another.

His eyes close as he feels his own peak approaching, your hips stuttering as he grabs your behind once again, forcing you to keep moving keep pushing him over the edge while you ride out your own high, underwear absolutely soaked in your essence, before he spills his seed as well.

He could happily just keep it at this, and he’d still be satisfied with it, he’s sure of it.

You both lay just like that a little longer, both bathing in your shared afterglow, as well as the closeness you both feel for just a bit more. You notice how he’s clearly waking up now, eyes opening up more as he watches you become more and more aware as well, sleep leaving your body with every waking moment that passes by. “Jungkook?” You ask, and he hums a reply, smiling softly at you. “I noticed.. Your eyes.” You mention, and he nods, urging you to continue. “Why do they always show the golden ring?” You wonder, finally remembering to ask him about it.

It’s been on your mind for quite some time now- but up until now, you never really got around to ask for it. And you also didn’t want to ask around, in case its something personal- you rather ask him yourself like this, and have him explain something curious like this. Maybe it’s just a random anomaly? Some birth defect, or just a hiccup of nature?

“I’m.. What’s called moonlit.” He explains, brushing some of your hair from your shoulder. “I was born on a full moon, to explain it simply. Which both.. Caused my eyes to kind of get ‘stuck’ in this state, and also my.. Senses to stay heightened.” He says, and you nod.

“So.. What I for example experience during a full moon..” You start, and he smiles.

“I basically live that every day.” He finishes, telling you that your thought’s are correct. And you feel a bit bad for him- because you know you struggle hard during that time to really handle yourself and your inner instincts. To think that he’s basically always battling them gives you a different point of view almost, like you’re seeing him from a different perspective now. “I’ve grown used to it though.” He says, as if he can read your mind. “I’ve.. Come to accept that as a part of me. It’s annoying sometimes, it really is- but it’s not like I can change it. So why bother getting frustrated over it?” He chuckles, and you nod. “Also makes me kind of special, so that’s cool too.” He jokes, before you lean into him, clinging to him.

“You’re already special to me.” You tell him. “Even if you weren’t born like this.” You say, and you can’t see it-

But he actually blushes a little, caught off guard by your honest words.

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You're getting to know these woods surprisingly quickly in his opinion- and he also notices quite quickly, that you’re a lot more independent than the wolves in his pack usually tend to be.

His pack is a very tight knit community, and everyone almost clings to someone- friends stay in groups, socializing is a big thing, and no one is ever alone. But you tend to even escape some settings as if you can’t handle being around others for long- making him worried that something might be troubling you. “how come you’re by yourself?” He asks as he sits down next to you on the large tree truck that’s been made into a bench for people to sit around the large fire pit. It’s nighttime, cicadas singing and owls howling in the distance, while everyone’s busy either talking, or getting ready for bed, as they all participate in some proper bonding activities. Some have shifted, and are grooming each other, while others are in their human form still just like you and Jungkook, casually talking.

“I just.. I don’t know.” You shrug. “I’m not lonely though! I just like to be by myself.” You explain, and he nods.

“I’ll have to believe that, I guess.” He admits defeat playfully, before he pulls you closer to him as you both watch the fire in front of you.

“You can go to your friends, you know?” You giggle. “no need to babysit me.”

“Oh but I want to!” He denies. “I love being close to you. Do you want some space?” He offers, unsure now. Maybe he’s been pushing himself onto you?

“No, It’s fine.” You shake your head however, pacifying his worries. “I like being close to you, too.” You admit, leaning into him while he purrs in utter happiness.

He knows it can’t be easy to just start living in a different place, all with different people and different surroundings too. But you seem to take it easy, even coming out of your shell a little, here and there. It’s obvious you still have to learn a lot more about his pack and all its habits and customs, but you’ll get there, Jungkook is sure of that.

You belong at his side, after all. He’d even start a new pack if he had to in order to keep you at his side.

Back in your now shared cabin, Jungkook is instantly all over you again. You’ve noticed that he’s been getting more and more.. needy almost for this kind of affection, and you figure it might be because the full moon is soon approaching. “I though you’re.. always stuck in your moon-phase?” You giggle when he nips at the crook of your neck where his mark is yet to be placed.

“doesn’t mean I don’t feel it’s effects weighing down on me harder the more the moon shows herself.” He growls into your skin, shamelessly running his tongue over the spot before he kisses it.

“Jungkook..-“ you gasp, but he doesn’t let you speak much further.

“I dont think I can wait.” He sighs out, and you now notice the way his hands seem to be trembling on your skin. “I don’t think I can take another night.” He admits, and you feel for him.

Being stuck in the moon-phase is one thing- having your chosen mate being dangled in front of you while having to keep your hands to yourself must be agonizing, especially now. You have an implant which prevents your heat and possible pregnancy, but that doesn’t mean the moon doesn’t enhance your scent and appeal to him.

“You think the moon will.. look away for a second?” You giggle, and he growls again, feeling oddly vulnerable. “I don’t mind if you take me tonight.” You offer, and at that, he pushes you backwards, before you’re handled impatiently into the nest he’d made for you and him, every pillow in his way kicked out without any mercy. His eyes are entirely golden now, proving how he’s slowly taken over by the wolfblood in his veins, and you feel for him. It must be tough having to somehow keep yourself in check all day long, every day. But that’s the reason wolves aren’t supposed to mate during certain times of the year, just so something like Jungkook can’t happen- because every other person would’ve probably not be able to restrain themselves to such a degree he’s able to.

“I think she’ll make an exception for us.” You tell him, as he boldly grips your clothes to just rip them open, uncaring of ruining the items. And the sheer display of strength and force does something to you- a submissive but clearly not fearful whimper escaping you, not going unnoticed by the alpha currently sitting above your body.

He leans down to kiss you with no care for staying tame or controlled, tongue running over your bottom lip before he dives back in, quite literally stealing your breath. His hands are meanwhile busy exploring your exposed skin, digging out your breasts from your underwear to grab at them, thumb flicking your already hardened buds.

If it’s supposed to work up your appetite for him, it’s clearly working.

He’s eager in shedding his own clothes, skin and ink revealed to you as his muscles flex under the moonlight bleeding in through the gaps in the curtains covering the windows. His hardened length is already leaking, right onto your lower stomach, so close to where you want him most. He knows he can just take you however he pleases. You’ve talked about this before, and you’re glad he did.

Because you know, in this moment, he will not hold back. The need to fill you up and claim you as his too much to handle, especially not with you so ready and eagerly waiting beneath him.

He pushes his own legs against yours, forcing yours to move up and expose yourself more to him, limbs resting over his thighs as be ruts against your already wet core. He purrs lowly against your neck, gripping your wrists to push them into the bed below, before you feel the head of his cock prod at your entrance. Even in times like this he seems to find pleasure in teasing you, as he never pushes further, never gives you what you want until you’re whimpering again, quietly begging for him to just take you.

And he grants you that whish, finally slipping inside, as far as he can go before you jump a little in discomfort. He waits for you to adjust, makes sure to reassure you with kisses and comforting touches, before he notices you moving to see if you’re ready.

And once he knows you are, he finally begins his chase.

As if he’s finally breathing freely, he’s able to let go of his own shackles he’s put on himself for a moment, releasing all the pent up energy he’s been bottling up over the course of time. He usually runs it off or works out until his body gives up, but with you, he’s potentially found a new way to vent it all out. Because he can feel that you’re truly meant for him. A mate chosen by the moon herself, perfectly fit to handle him and his instincts.

You’re turned around for easier handling, and you don’t even bother thinking about anything anymore, simply giving yourself into his hands- hands that are more than eager to hold and grab at any flesh they can touch. You can feel his canine teeth in the skin of your neck, biting, eager to mark you up before he finalizes the bond with a final bite placed in a spot he himself will choose. Where will he place it?

You’ll soon find out.

But right now he’s busy pressing his hips into you as far as he can go, your body continuously rocking back and forth under the force of his thrusts, while his fingers dig into the skin of your waist to keep you in place. But they wander, eager to explore and hold, unsure even in where they want to stay and how they want to move you. And so one of his hands moves to hold you upright against him, back arched as one of his palms holds your neck to have your head next to his, mind intoxicated by your scent so close.

The sounds are obscene, but neither of you have any energy in your brains left to really care about that.

You don’t even realize the saliva that’s dripping down your chin, but he definitely does- the sight of you so entirely out of your mind doing something to him on a primal level. He’s got you entirely under his control, and he knows to value this as a giant sign of trust towards him- trust that he’s not ever going to throw away, no matter what. Because with the way the can feel his body start to exhaust, a unique and new feeling he’s not yet felt like this before, he knows that you’re truly it for him.

His one and only. There’s no one else he’d rather have.

So his bite is placed, teeth digging into your flesh, once, twice, and one more time to truly seal the bond forever. Your body shudders in pleasure, hands reaching onto nothingness before you find his thighs, accidentally scratching his skin- but he doesn’t mind one bit.

Instead, he can feel the way he reaches his peak, moment of bliss completely blinding him for a moment as he holds you close, pushing himself in deep to make sure that you don’t spill a single drop of his release.

And you can’t- not with the way his knot locks you both into place, two bodies breathing heavily with exhaustion, laying closely together while you try and come back down from your high.

The afterglow you both share is blissful, no thoughts in your minds as Jungkook carefully nurses the wound he created, arms keeping you close while he still occasionally twitches inside you. Slowly you pull a stray pillow closer to you, hiding your face in it in shame as you realize the way you just acted like a bitch in heat- but he doesn’t like the way you’re trying to shy away from him. His hand pulls the pillow away before he kisses your neck and cheek, careful not to move too much with his knot still inside you, potentially hurting you if he was to somehow move too quickly.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, sensing your embarrassment, voice a bit hoarse as he speaks. “Are you not happy?” He worries, but you shake your head.

“I am.” You say. “It’s just..” You drift off, shivering a little as your skin begins to cool down again, something he immediately notices as his hands reach out to a blanket close by, which he puts over your body the best he can. He himself is still high when it comes to body temperature- normal with wolves, so its not surprising.

“You were very attractive.” He teases almost, running his nose over the crook of your neck, careful to avoid your bonding mark for now until it’s healed. “You’ll always be. Don’t even worry about that.” He reassures you, having realized what you must be so shy about. “Even now I can barely keep my hands to myself..” He purrs, and you whine.

“You’re still inside!” You complain, thinking he might just be playing around- but he’s twitching again, making it clear that he isn’t just teasing you. At least, not entirely.

“How can a man be so easily satiated with a mate like that?” He tells you, no question asked even though it’s masked as one. You already realize that there’s something.. New about him. The way he speaks, the ease in which he touches, breathing slow and steady. Like he’s breathing freely for once, no need for always having his guard up just in case.

Is it just the exhaustion? Or something else?

“Hm, I want to stay here forever.” He purrs, nuzzling closer to you.

“But we should at least clean up.” You giggle, noticing the way he softens up inside you, slowly slipping out of you. It’s an odd feeling, and it’s not entirely pleasant, but all good things must come to an end at some point. “Now, preferably. Before you’ll fall asleep on me, big bad dog.” You tease, and he gently nips at your neck where you’re not injured, a very distinctive playfulness in his mood, even though you’re both tired.

“What if I’ll take you in the shower again, while we clean up?” He suggests, and you laugh, finally able to get yourself into a seating position again, ready to escape him into the shower-

But he’s hot on your heels, not yet ready to call it a night just yet.

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“I heard Yoongis mate has returned to him.” Jungkook says, as you’re both laying inside his cabin, fireplace warming everything up and spending a soft, golden light. He’s just returned from a small trip back to your former pack’s home- a standard routine, now that you’ve been ‘exchanged’ for Seokjin’s mate.

He’s got to basically always give Yoongi an update on you and your wellbeing until one full year has passed, and you’ve been fully introduced to the new pack.

“Really? Where was she?” You wonder, head resting on his chest while he holds your hand in his, both of you watching the small flames eat away at the wood he’s fed into the fireplace earlier.

“An accident, he’d said.” Jungkook informs you. “She’s.. Lost all her memories.” He reveals, and you feel for Yoongi. Losing a mate is already painful enough- but being re-introduced just to realize they don’t remember you at all must be like losing them twice.

“Oh no..” You mumble, worrying.

“But they were clearly meant for one another.” Jungkook reassures you. “They were.. Very close. Clearly bonded already.” He chuckles, aware that his choice of words must be enough to tell you just how close they seemed to be even after all of what they’ve been through.

“They.. Got together again?” You ask, and he nods.

“Inseparable, really. It was pretty amusing to see your pack alpha be this.. Docile.” He says, still laughing just thinking about the way Yoongi turned instantly soft and gentle at just a bat of his mate’s lashes.

But he understands. He understands so well.

He too would fall in love with you no matter how many lifes he’ll get to live again and again. He knows he would always somehow find you again, love you again, just the same as before. Because you’re not just his chosen mate-

You've become much more than that.

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo and f!reader are in a semi established relationship aka idiots in love. they are around 25 and 24 here respectively. reader is described as having hair that can be tied back from her face with a ribbon, no use of nicknames. wc 1.8k

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune as always!!!!

There’s a velvet ribbon on Gojo Satoru’s bedroom floor. 

There’s very little light in the room but the moon catches the sheen of the fabric just right and he bends at the waist to pick it up, smoothing his thumb over the soft beneath it just like he’s tempted to do to your cheek, eyes instantly drifting to the bed as he rises, ribbon wrapped around his palm. It’s as blue as the sky or, as the admittedly full of himself man assumes, his eyes and he flexes his hand to hold the fabric taut.

It must have been tossed off during the events of the past evening, it was tied around your neck at one point as a makeshift accessory, and the blurry memories make him blush slightly to recall, cheeks heating if he thinks too long about the bounce of your body against his. He chooses to focus instead on the here and now, what’s in front of him, than recall memories and he steps closer to the edge of your side of the bed. 

You slumber mere inches from where he’s standing, your body tangled in soft sheets. One of your feet sticks out, one of your arms is tossed over your eyes despite the black mask covering them (his, of course), and your hair sticks up over the edge of the duvet that otherwise obscures the rest of your face. He supposes he’ll leave you alone for now, choosing instead to rub his thumb over the ribbon again. It’s a close enough match for your cheek that it’ll simply have to sate his endless hunger to feel you until the sun rises. 

Plucking his phone from his pocket to glance at the time with his unoccupied hand, he groans and blue eyes narrow looking over the little numbers on the screen. 4:15 am. Too early for you to be awake. Probably too early for him as well but there’s nothing that can be done about that besides toss and turns until he disturbs you so he pads quietly across the floor, headed toward the kitchen, ribbon tangled between his fingers until he shoves it into his pocket to get the day really started.

This is all routine for him. Waking up, wandering around, finding you all over his apartment - your purse on the floor by the door, the blanket you’ve had since you were a child on top of a basket in the living room, a tube of lip balm across the kitchen counter from him. 

Pulling the coffee beans from the jar on the counter, dumping them into the grinder, one two three pulses for the perfect consistency to allow the water to best soak the bean fragments. He reaches into a cupboard and slips his mug out, buried behind a sea of your own that have gradually taken up every corner of the shelf, but he doesn’t mind having all of these little reminders of you around.

For far too long you resisted leaving any trace of yourself behind and now his bathroom counter is gradually getting more crowded with each overnight product you “forget” to take with you when you leave. The dresser he bought specifically for you, the jumbled way you leave your shoes at the front door. His space is no longer just his, it’s yours too and he ponders what that means to himself while idly sticking his hand in his pocket and waiting for water to heat, rubbing the ribbon.

The sleek electric kettle he turned on 8 minutes ago clicks to let him know the water is hot enough to pour and he drops four sugar cubes into a mug, setting up the rest of his pour over system with a small yawn. The kitchen bursts with the fresh scent of coffee and he hears rustling from the other side of the apartment that tells him it’s time to start making yours, pulling another cup from the cupboard and placing it next to his, dropping two cubes to his four inside. 

It’s just how things should be, he thinks. No more going between two places and scurrying back to your apartment, he wants you here. It’s selfish to demand you give him the space you’ve shown him you desire to maintain but isn’t it equally selfish and punishing for you to deny him? It isn’t often anyone does that and you’re the only person who seems to get away with it. 

Speaking of, he hears your shuffling footsteps across the floor and pours water over the top of your mug and the sugar cubes nestled in the bottom of it, fresh coffee trickling down into the ceramic below. 

“Oh there she is,” he sings and you groan, wrapped in the duvet you pulled off of the bed with you. Again, this is something only you’d be able to get away with and he grins at your partially opened eyes and the way your head pops out of the fabric. Your hair’s a mess, you’re hardly coherent, but you smell coffee and a small smile slips across your face. 

Satoru opens his arms and beams, watching you shuffle slowly across the kitchen floor. Each step makes you feel more alive until you find yourself face first in his chest, burying your nose in the fabric of his sleep shirt. He dips his head to kiss the top of yours and you giggle, still heavy with sleep. 

“Good mornin’,” your voice is obscured thanks to where you’re pressed against him but he doesn’t struggle to make out what you’re saying, smoothing a big hand over your blanket covered back. 

“Good morning sunshine,” he sings in return, awfully musical this morning, but you grin and unbury your head from the blanket, pulling it away as one would a cloak. He gasps when he sees your face and you roll your eyes in response, puckering and craning your head for a kiss, uncaring about silly things like morning breath or drool around your mouth because you know he’ll kiss you regardless.

Satoru does, of course, with a dramatic flourish and a smack and a hum. The drip, drip, drip of your coffee tapers off and you smile as he leans away from you, reaching behind himself to grab two cups of coffee. You wrap your arms around his waist and he looks around, lost, knowing he can’t walk you to the living room and hold the coffees so he kisses your forehead and hands you yours, one of your hands surfacing from a gap in the duvet that covers you.

“Come on, sleepyhead. Walk with me.”

He instructs and you follow, waddling behind him with both of your hands pressed to the sides of your mug. The duvet drags and he plops down on the living room sofa, holding his coffee high above his head so that you can slide into your normal place - your chest pressed against his and you straddling his thighs and hips. He holds you against your chest and you let the duvet hang off of your body, finally awake enough to emerge from your proverbial cocoon.

Pulling his coffee back down and sipping from it, he lets you further settle against his chest and kisses your forehead, pushing your messy hair off of your face. You look up at him with a sleepy smile and sip from your own mug, blinking slowly to further rise for the day. Looking down at you he wants to keep you just like this, every morning, forever, and he can’t pretend he doesn’t want it anymore, his brows raised.

“Move in with me.”

You giggle, shaking your head to brush your hair off of your face without use of your hands.

“So good last night you don’t want me to leave?”

He chuckles, putting his coffee down on the table to the left of him and digging in his pocket, producing the ribbon. It catches your eye and you smile, reaching out to touch it and giggling when he wraps it around your hair and ties it messily, successfully getting all but a few strands off of your pretty face. 

“Can’t ever let you leave after that, what kind of man would I be?”

You giggle but Satoru wonders for a moment if it would be so bad to tell you the truth - that he doesn’t want a single corner of his life unoccupied by you, the warm light you emit just by naturally being you makes his apartment feel like a home. It’s terrifying, though, to consider being bare and truthful and he’s been trying to do it more lately. To give you a glimpse inside of himself the way he so easily sees inside you. 

The truth will come out eventually, he decides. It always does. A lopsided grin comes across his face and he looks down at you, long lashed eyes fluttering and making you smile. He yanks on the makeshift ponytail your hair is tied into and you frown playfully at him, jutting your lower lip out. 

“That’s not a very nice way to treat your live-in girlfriend.”

His eyes widen and you don’t miss the little light within them when he glances at you. He may intentionally hide how he’s feeling but they never do and you press your face back into his chest and he plucks your coffee from your hand, wrapping his own around the warmth. 

“You mean it?”

He holds the mug to your lips and tips it enough that you can sip and you nod, swallowing with a smile. 

“I’m here all the time anyway, even when you’re gone. I can’t remember the last time I went to my apartment, this is home.”

Home. The word sits heavily between the two of you but neither one moves to say anything further, Gojo tipping your mug toward your lips again to let you take a sip while you cling to his chest. There has always been a makeshift home for the other in each of you, arms and hearts and less wholesome places where the two of you have made the other belong, but a tangible place for the two of you to share feels different.

It feels good.

He leans forward and kisses the top of your head, pulling you across his lap and closer to his chest. There’s no space between the two of you, just as he likes it, and he feels indescribable fondness imagining doing this every single day from now on, not just after a wild night that left you too sleepy to return home.

“Welcome home then, I guess.” 

You giggle and nod, keeping your head pressed against his chest. 

“Now you’ll never get rid of me.”

 A lovesick half smile you can’t see dances across his face and he rocks you gently in his arms, making you whine and try to push him off. It’s no use. It’s not like you’re really trying anyway and he dips down to kiss your cheek, keeping his lips pressed against the soft, velvety skin even as he speaks.

“That’s the plan.”

[0strawberrysorbet0]

𝑉𝑒��𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑚!𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟!

𝑉𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝑜𝑏𝑣𝑖)

Was clearly goin for a pink thing with this today 🤷‍♀️

Pls enjoy this! Velvette is becoming a very unhealthy obsession of mine 😁

Please do not use/steal my work on this site or any other! Reblogs and likes are appreciated greatly!!

Warnings: Crazy oblivious, Jealous Vel, cursing, Valentino, my rushed ass writing

How did you get this gorgeous overlord wrapped tightly around your finger? Well, it all started when she recruited you for modelling, I mean you were gorgeous!! 😍

She had instantly made you her top model, pasting your face on every fashion magazine and billboard.

She even let you be in her live streams!!

In your head she was such a sweet boss, you felt like she was honestly your friend at this point!

But she wanted more, she wanted you to comment with hearts whenever she posted pictures of herself,

She wanted you to post pictures of you and her and caption them: 'with my beautiful girl❤' instead of 'with my beautiful boss ❤'.

She just wanted to be bae :/

She even got to the point where she'd leave you new dresses custom made for you, they'd be layed neatly on your bed with scribbled little notes about how "a pretty girl like you shouldn't dress so tacky!"

Gift giving was something she loved to do with you, dresses, flowers, shoes, chocolates, ect. If you even mention wanting or needing something it'll be on your bed at the end of the day.

She even (after throwing a fit and breaking a lot of shit) got your room moved closer to hers, she stated that it was just so another slimy bitch won't steal another one of her models.

NOT BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO BE AS CLOSE AS SHE COULD WITH YOU. not that reason AT ALL!

"Doll.. Doll wake up!" "Huh?.. Vel it's 6am.."

She had gotten into the habit of waking you up early for extra shoots, not that they'd ever be published. She'd put those in her room, just for her 😙

It got to the point where Vox and Val were trying to get her to ask you out! "I just don't get why you won't ask her out? Hm? Nervous princesa?~" "FUCK OFF VAL" Meanwhile Vox was just laughing his ass off.

She hadn't even meant to confess 😞 she was just screaming about you over the phone to Vox without realizing you were there the whole time.

"VOX SHUT UP, IT'S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS WHO I LIKE, AND I DON'T LIKE HER! I'M SERIOUS I DON'T LIKE (Y/N) LIKE THAT!"

" You don't like me? 😢"

"(Y/N)! Holy shit don't you knock?!" Girl is terrified tbh.

She had to confess now 😞 TWICE! Your oblivious ass didn't get it at first. "Oh I like you too! (≧∇≦)/"

Safe to say she turned the same shade as her hair. She was now your girlfriend! 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 girlfriend! She'd Brag about to everyone.

You think she spoiled you at first? Oh no. It's even worse now. Bags filling in your room, you dare mention a product? She bought it. Oh you like that dress? Take it.

Despite her tough act, she was a totally different person around you, still bratty but super clingy, she'd want you to hold her while she complained about her day.

"That bitch spilt something on that new dress! What am I going to do!? We have a shoot tomorrow!!"

I feel like she'd like her hair brushed, she'd love to be pampered and pamper you. She'd sit with a face mask on as you painted her nails.

In summary, the girl just wants to love you and be loved back. Even if you're a little slow sometimes. ❤

[poeghoul]

hard times iv

in which they share a first kiss.

word count: 4,567 warnings: fluff. fluff. major fluff. authors note: i love them so much. so happy with this part <3

three masterlist

It had become their new routine; Harry would pick y/n up from work, they would head back to her place and just lay with each other on her bed. It was bliss. Harry had never felt so warm in the coldest months of his life. She had become his sun. And he was her moon. Every star had shined brighter since she had come into his life. He was overcome by joy, and the little voice that warned him seemed to quiet down. 

Y/n, like usual, fell asleep on Harry's chest. He was properly messing up her sleep schedule with how comfortable he was to fall asleep on. But how could she resist? He was warm and she had never felt more safe. 

Harry loved to watch her sleep. He loved to watch her chest rise and fall at a slow, steady pace, loved to hear her soft breaths escape her lips, loved to be the one she fell asleep on. It was intimate, and though he had many, many partners, he felt this was the most intimate relationship he’d ever had. He hadn’t even kissed her yet; hadn’t even taken her on a date and though she didn’t mind, she hoped it would come soon. It scared him, not the date aspect, but the idea that she could say no. He was too in his head about it, fearful that the girl he’d deemed his sweet, little lamb would run off from a stalking predator ready to strike. 

He was nothing of the sort. Nothing if not gentle with her.

He would never hurt her; wished to never see her cry again. 

He’d gotten to know who she is, what she’s like when he’s not being standoffish or short with her. He learned she loved green, deep greens, and that the fall to winter transition was her favorite, even though the time change was damning for her. That her favorite scents were ones that made her feel warm inside. That she was a maximalist and called herself a hoarder because of it. He learned so much about her in so little time. He learned that he was truly fucked, that he was truly head over heels for her. 

And she had learned so much about him, too. Learned that he loved to sing and play guitar when he had the time. Learned that Jax, Daniel, Lee and the rest of his “men” lived with him and most of the time, Harry wished they didn’t. He loved his alone time where he was able to be himself and not have to think about the numbers or details about his job. A job that terrified y/n, but she’d never dare to tell him. He loved blues and oranges, loved cooking and tending to his garden. Loved things she’d never expect him to. The majority of his interests had come as a surprise to her. 

She loved his curls and the smell of his hair products. Loved his voice in the morning, deep and husky with the way he said good morning. Loved his forehead kisses, and holding his hand, and doing just about everything with him now. He was her newfound home. She’d go with him anywhere.

She’d never met anyone as soft with her as he is. She doesn’t think she’d meet anyone else who is. That made her happy. He made her happy; she was over the moon with him. Delighted in spending any waking moment with him. 

+++

“Would you want to go on a date?” Harry stood against the only unoccupied kitchen counter in y/n’s apartment (he had told her many times already that her kitchen space was far too small for someone who bakes at her frequency). Her head shot up, looking at him with a slack jaw. An expression that made him smirk while he sucked frosting off his thumb, a ‘hmm’ sound leaving his lips; a gesture that had her throat drying instantly. 

“Like, a real date?” he nodded. She bit her lips in her mouth, looking down at the plate of cinnamon rolls she was currently frosting. Timidly, she nods, mumbling the tiniest ‘yeah’ against Harry’s wishes. 

“Didn’t hear that, little lamb. Won’t you speak up for me?” he stepped closer to her, looking down at her as she refused to show him her blushing cheeks. 

“Harry,” she whined, still not daring to look at him. 

“What? Couldn’t hear ya, that’s all.” she didn’t even have to look at him to know he was still wearing his smirk. 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head before responding. “Yes,” she said, still quiet as a mouse. 

But still, Harry wasn’t giving her what she wanted. “Hmm, still didn’t get that, angel.”

She pouted, finally looking at him and not caring that her cheeks were a deep red. “Yes. Yes I want to go on a date with you, Harry!” she practically shouted. He grinned down at her, dimples piercing his cheeks. “Are you happy now?” 

“Yes, actually.” he scooped some frosting onto his finger and dabbed the white cream on her nose. She scrunched up her nose, her pout disappearing into a smile, “very happy now.” he said before holding the sides of her face and promptly licking the frosting off her nose, eliciting a squeal-like laugh from the girl. 

“You’re so annoying,” she giggled, still grinning up at him. There had to be glitter in her eyes with the way they were sparkling. Harry swore there was a hole in the ceiling and her eyes were reflecting the brightest stars ever seen by man. “What do you want to watch tonight?” She asked the same question just about every night, always offering him to pick. He memorized her favorite shows (not her favorite movies though, as she had something called “top fifty picks”, which consisted of fifty of her favorite movies) and always made sure to pick something she’d love, even if he wasn’t a fan (he would never tell her that).

They sat down on the edge of her bed, a single plate rested on her thigh with two cinnamon rolls. She finally had the patience to wait for the dough to rise now that she wasn’t always alone and succumbing to her intrusive thoughts the winter brought. Time with Harry was the best distraction. 

He held the remote in his hand, the piece of black plastic looked like it was made for babies in his large hands. He waited for her tv to connect to the wifi and scrolled through hulu while she waited patiently, her chin resting on his shoulder. He decided on PEN15 and set the remote beside him so they could dig in to their sweet treat. 

It was the best cinnamon roll Harry had ever had. 

+++

“I’ve always wanted to go there,” y/n said from the passenger seat as they passed by a recently shut down roller rink. Harry briefly looked to his right, the bright colors of the sign blurring past them as he drove. 

They were on their way to pick up a pizza from the only pizza joint in their town Harry wouldn’t refuse to eat. Once he realized her diet mainly consisted of diner food and baked goods he swore he’d buy or make her something every night. Ever since that decision, y/n had not felt nearly as poor as she had before. Her stomach issues were significantly better. 

“When did it close?” 

“M’not sure, I think, like, a month or so ago. I dunno.” she shrugged, her hand playing with the rings on his right hand that rested above her knee. Her fingers were always cold, Harry thought to buy her some mittens, or even to take up crocheting to try and make her some. 

The ride was silent, not filled with tension as it had been when they first met, but one with comfort and warmth. Harry left the car running as he went inside to pay and pick up their pre order. A large cheese pizza to share. He was happy to know she had an aversion to meat just as he did. 

Y/n had never gone to Harry’s home. Didn’t even know where or what part of town he lived in, if he even lived in town. He was strict, for some reason, on her not venturing there. Which is why they always hung out at her apartment even though he thought it was far too small even for one person.

Harry parked in his normal spot and ran over to y/n’s side to open the door for her and pick the pizza up from off her lap, the heat from the pizza almost burning her thighs, she didn’t mind, though, it was nearly freezing out (for her). She thanked him as they made their way up the stairs. The bells on her doorknob no longer bothered Harry. Much like her, he’d gotten used to the annoying sound. 

And as per usual, they sat on the edge of her bed, two slices of pizza sat on a plate that rested on her lap, and she waited to start on her piece until Harry had selected something to watch. Entertainment was necessary for consuming a meal, even if she had Harry with her.

He was quiet the rest of the night. It worried her to no end, he hadn’t been like this in some time. And he left at 8 pm, even though he said he’d stay the night, claiming he had a meeting with Niall he had to prepare for. She kissed his cheek and mumbled a good night before he walked out her front door. 

Her tongue was thick in her mouth, lip quivering and eyes welling over with tears that dared to spill at any moment. Her heart pounded in her chest, somehow feeling so heavy but empty at the same time. The anxiety she hadn’t felt in weeks was creeping up her throat, greeting her with a gag and bile toppling to her floor. A vicious way to say “hello, I’ve missed you”. Her mind was reeling, going at a million miles an hour, all thoughts of Harry calling off their date, blocking her phone number and pretending she never existed plagued her mind. She heaved out a sob, pulling her knees to her chest and letting the tears fall freely. She didn’t even care about the mess she had made, she just wanted to sleep and ignore the pain she hadn’t felt in months. The tender ache an unignorable feeling even as she slept. 

+++

H.🕯💌

Good morning, little lamb. Jax will be taking you to work this morning. Please call me when you’re off. Xx

She tenderly held the phone in her hand, a wave of relief flooded her as she read the message, thankful her anxious thoughts were disproven. That was the only good moment of her morning.

As soon as she got out of bed, her right foot stepped into the puddle she had accidentally left overnight. She gagged, covering her mouth with her hand and let out a small scream of disgust. Hopping on one foot, she grabbed a roll of paper towels from her counter and hopped back over to her mess. She practically unraveled half of the roll and laid it over the puddle before wiping her foot off. While cleaning her mess, she calculated how long of a shower would be acceptable this morning in order to not be late to work. If she didn’t make a coffee or have a cigarette that would give her an additional twelve minutes to get ready, and eight of those would be spent in the shower, so maybe she would be able to make a coffee if she allowed it to brew while she showered. If she brushed her teeth in the shower would that give her more time?

Jax was always early, standing next to the back passenger door right outside her apartment building, and sent her a toothy smile. “Sweet pea,” he greeted her as she buried her face in his chest, placing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Rough morning?” she nodded into his chest.

Her shower wasn’t even peaceful, the water was freezing, she almost fell when she got out, barely catching herself on the edge of the sink, and her mascara was not doing her long lashes justice, just leaving clumps of black on the small hairs. 

Just eight hours. Eight hours of orders being barked at her, arguments with the cooks and a small unpleasant interaction with Ross in passing. Just had to get through that and she’d be able to retreat to her home and call Harry and hear his deep, soothing voice. The time would go by quickly, right? It had to, just had to. 

But this was y/n, a girl plagued by an unjust number of unlucky days. The hours went by so slowly, she swore she’d turned 25 by the time her first fifteen minute break came. And she spilled coffee on herself, rolled her ankle and dropped a plate of scrambled eggs, sausage and pancakes all over the vinyl checkered flooring. By 12 pm, she had three cigarettes and four cups of black coffee. She hated black coffee. 

She felt drained by the time 3 pm rolled around, and couldn’t wait for her last table in her section to pay their tab. It was a group of four guys, all around her age and fairly attractive but nothing in comparison to Harry. They had asked her a series of uncomfortable questions and asked her to be in their tiktoks, she politely declined each time they asked, offering a smile and a ‘I’m not allowed to, sorry’ at every request.

Once she had seen them put a card on the receipt on the table, she practically ran over and picked it up off the table to run it through their outdated machine. She was buzzing with excitement. She approached the table, leaving their copy and the diner's copy of the receipt on the edge with the card on top, but they weren’t letting her go that easy. 

“Wait,” one of them, a curly headed brunette, grabbed her arm as she turned to walk off. “Do you have snapchat?” he held his phone out, the app already opened, for her to grab. She wasn’t sure she was hiding her annoyed expression well.

“Oh, I have a boyfriend. Sorry,” she half smiled at them, a dimple carving in only one of her cheeks. 

“You can’t have friends?” he laughed.

“I can.” she deadpanned, “I’m just respectful towards my partner.” 

They all scoffed, the one with a poorly grown mustache rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Whatever, you’re not even that pretty.” She smiled at that. 

+++

“Harry,” y/n whined from the passenger seat, a blindfold covering her eyes while Harry held both her wrists in his right hand. He chuckled at her, barely acknowledging her. 

“Don’t want to hear it, little lamb.”

“But-”

“But nothing.” he squeezed her wrists for a brief second, “gotta be a good girl and stay quiet if you want your surprise.” That had her heart pounding, a pool of warmth between her thighs, but she ignored the sensation. 

“Pleeaaaseee,” she turned her head, pouting at him, or at least she thinks she did. She doesn’t know if he had seen it. 

Harry had told her over the phone that they’d go on their date that night and to wear her bell bottom jeans and to avoid wearing a chunky sweater. She reminded him it was late December in northern California, he simply told her to bring a jacket and that he’d be there at six before hanging up. 

She rummaged through her closet as soon as he hung up to find her jeans, unsure of when she had last worn them or if they were even clean (they weren’t, she had to pay a visit to the small laundry room in her complex and prayed they’d be washed and dried in time). She paired the jeans with a tiny tank top with lace details and bow that embellished the neckline, but covered her top half with her thickest sweatshirt. 

Again, he squeezed her wrists together and shushed her while wearing a grin. 

At some point, she could feel him making four right turns and two u turns at different lights. He was trying to throw her off, she could tell. He had thrown her off the moment he pulled the blindfold out and covered her eyes as she got in his car. He had to resort to holding her wrists, not trusting her after her first attempt to pull it off. 

“Almost there, angel.” he spoke quietly. She just nodded in response, eager to be there already and see what he had planned. She had made up a variety of scenarios, one being a road trip to Disneyland (unrealistic) another being a museum date (also unrealistic, there were no museums in their tiny town). She was buzzing in her seat, anxious to get out and rip the stupid blindfold off. 

The car was shifted into park but Harry still hadn’t released her wrists. She went to whine again to him but he cut her off before she had the chance. 

“If I let go of your wrists, you promise to not peak?” she hesitated but nodded. “Y/n,” he said in a stern tone. 

“Harry,” she whined once more, “I won’t, I won’t I promise.”

“If you peak we’re leaving, got it?” she nodded immediately. “Good girl.” she smiled as he released her wrists. She had to put her hands under her thighs to keep from removing the blindfold. 

Harry opened the door for her and grabbed each of her hands again, but this time he was guiding her. 

“We’re gonna go up a ramp,” he instructed her, allowing her to brace herself for the sudden incline. Her heart pounded in her chest, she felt like vomiting all over again. “Going inside now,” he guided her through the door, holding it open with his elbow. Funky disco music played loudly and she could faintly hear arcade games in the back. 

He continued to guide her throughout the, still unknown, place. She even tried to tip her head back to peak out the small gap but Harry caught her as soon as she made the move. She groaned at him. 

“I’ll take it off right now lamb, don’t be impatient.” She pouted at him as he let go of her hands, grabbing her shoulders instead to position her correctly. “Okay, my little eager bunny,” he took the blindfold off, she squinted at the sudden lights. “Happy first date,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her head. 

Her mouth was agape, slightly frowning, her eyes welling all over again, about to pour over at the sweetest gesture ever made.

The disco music was louder, a man stood in a booth with DJ equipment before him, neon lights roamed the room and a disco ball reflected all over the big, empty space, casting a fluorescent glow on the two. Shooting games, skee ball and an air hockey table was on her right side, behind that a snack counter, a worker messing with her phone stood alone, and behind a grinning Harry, another employee stood with racks of rollerskates behind him. 

He had brought her to the roller rink. The exact one she had brought up the previous day. 

Once Harry noticed her expression, his face fell, his hands going to her waist to pull her into him. “What’s wrong, little lamb?” she shook her head, her tears falling freely, “Baby, please. Please tell me what’s wrong,” Harry’s voice was just above a whisper.

Still she shook her head, sniffling. “Nothing, Harry.” she cried, “this is the sweetest thing anyones ever done for me. It’s so,” she sniffled again, “you’re so perfect.” she scrunched his sweater up with her hands as she burrowed her face into his neck, pecking at the exposed skin. His hands rubbed her back, breathing in a sigh of relief. He had truly thought he messed the whole night up, thinking that maybe when she said she had always wanted to come her she had meant with someone else. He was so grateful for a different answer. “Thank you,” she whispered, kissing his neck once more before releasing her death grip on him and giving him a smile. He grinned back at her and kissed her nose, she giggled.

“Of course, little lamb. I’d do anything for you.” that alone had her ready to sob all over again. “What size, princess?” 

+++

Harry was terrible at skating.

He, for some reason, thought he’d be a pro at it. 

But he was absolutely not a pro, could barely even stand for more than ten seconds without almost losing his balance. He was gripping y/n’s arm so hard it was likely he’d leave a bruise for her to discover the following day. She insisted he use one of those skate mate guides, but he was too stubborn and refused. He fell on his ass right after he scoffed at her for even suggesting it. 

Y/n was holding his hands while she skated backwards, watching his feet and giving him pointers to make it easier. “Keep your knees bent,” she slowed down their speed so he could readjust his stance, his feet almost rolling out from beneath him as he almost wobbled over. She grinned at him even though he was too focused on his feet. 

“Maybe you should skate by yourself for a minute,” he exhaled through his mouth, still looking down at his feet. 

“No, I wanna skate with you.” He just shook his head, letting go of her hands. “Please,” she grabbed his forearm, trying to stabilize him once more. He gave her a half smile. “You’re just trying too hard, I promise it gets easier.”

“Just wanna sit for a minute.”

“Okay.” She helped him to the edge of the rink, watching as he sat down on the bench and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Show me how fast you are, little lamb.” He cocked his head to the side, smirking at her and leaning back on his hands. 

She gulped, the fire deep in her was reignited once more, but again she ignored the feeling. She took off, shuffling her feet beneath her and leaning slightly when the rink curved. The wind on her face felt nice, the heater that filled the room with a warmth that would be comfortable if not trying to skate for two people and her chunky sweatshirt had been overheating her, her cheeks a bright pink. Harry was hollering at her from his spot on the sideline, “See how fast you can go without me? I’m weighing you down, little one.” 

Laughing, she turned on her heel to skate backwards while she passed him, showing off her skills she had learned when she took up skating years ago, and turned right back around to gain more speed.

The DJ was set on playing a mix of the Bee Gees, ABBA and Earth, Wind & Fire, the best skating mix in her opinion. She whirled past Harry in a blur, barely seeing the grin that took up half his face. He shook his head at her, impressed with her ability to not only balance on the skates but also go as fast as she was. He just wished he could be doing it with her. 

“Please come back out, Harry. I won’t let you fall, I promise!” she shouted from across the rink, slowing down her pace and holding her hands together as she approached him, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. 

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Please,” she whined, standing right in front of him, her hands still clasped in front of her. 

“Hmmm,” he tapped his chin, mocking her. “No.”

“I thought we were on a date.”

“We are, last I checked.”

“So you have to skate with me, Harry, that’s, like, a rule.” 

He took his bottom lip in his mouth for a moment, watching as she stared at his lips even after he released it. “Fine,” she grinned, and stepped on the platform with the bench to help him up. “I’ll skate with you,” she grabbed his hands, helping him stand up to tower over her. He looked down at her while she grinned up at him, hands still intertwined, but she made no effort to move. Neither did he. 

Slowly, Harry began to lean in, his eyes still piercing into hers, while she tilted her head back. She gulped as he leaned in further to close the distance between their lips, her eyes closing with bliss. 

His lips were soft, plush against her own, his warmth radiating off his body. Gently, his hands broke from her tight grip, resting on her cheeks to pull her closer to him. Her lips were sweet, the blue raspberry Icee she had ordered from the snack counter lingering. Harry reveled in the taste, silently begging for more. He couldn’t get enough. She was soft, delicate in his hands and he held her like a porcelain doll, so incredibly careful to not break the precious glass of her skin. 

She wanted, no, needed more of him. Wanted him to be hers entirely. Wanted to feel him entirely. She gripped the hem of his sweater, whining on his lips as he wouldn’t allow her tongue access to wander where it pleased. She was electric, on fire and still he wasn’t giving her what she wanted.

Hesitantly, he pulled away, sucking on her bottom lip slightly before releasing it. Her eyes fluttered open, pupils dilated, taking up more space than Harry liked. He smiled down at her, longing in his eyes, and kissed her nose before moving his hands to hold hers once again.

“I thought we were here to skate?” he teased, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. She, naturally, smushed her face into his chest again, taking in the scent of his cologne, her newfound favorite scent. Pine. 

“Wanna go home,” she mumbled into the wool of his sweater. 

“Hmm, why’s that?”

“Wanna lay with you and sleep,” still muffled. 

Harry exhaled deeply through his nose, breaking his gaze set at the crown of her head, suddenly fearful he had ruined her night by innocently kissing her. He removed one of his hands from hers, patting her on the back before slightly pushing her away. “You sure?” she nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Will we be able to come back? How much longer will they be open?”

He grinned, “whenever you liked. I know the new owner.” He didn’t mention it was himself. 

+++

The tv played quietly, a rerun of Bojack Horseman playing (the talking horse show as Harry liked to call it) while she slept on his chest. A snoopy blanket covered her boy as Harry laid succumbing to the cold bite of her apartment. He didn’t mind the chill, wouldn’t even mind freezing if it meant she’d be with him as he endured the hypothermic shock. The pain would serve as a reminder that they both were real and together. 

In a whisper, an “I love you” was heard. 

crying only because i'm happy

tags: @tiaamberxx @jerseygirlinca @n0vaj3an @tpwk-mia @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921 @love-letters-to-uranus @ribbonknives @annesauriol @moneybaby07 @stylesfever @hermionelove

[nanograms]

can I request the octo trio x gn reader who's a bit of a cuddle bug

Yes you may! I cant write for Jade so unfortunately so I have to leave him out. I don’t know if you asked for separate or all of them so have it all

Octo Trio (minus Jade) x GN!Reader - Cuddle Bug

——————————————————————————

Azul

Azul is a touch starved man. Despite his family, he never got affection from other people because of how he looked

So when you came into his life and ‘attacked’ him his all of this affection and cuddles, he malfunctioned real fast

“A-aha.. Angelfish, we’re in a public area.. people can see us, Dear.. H-huh? You don’t mind?? I-I see..” Flustered octopus noises

Now, don’t mistake this for Azul not wanting your cuddles or kisses.

He’s just not used to it. Give him a couple of weeks, maybe a month max and he’ll return it 10 fold.

It might take him a while before he cuddles you in his mer-form though.

——————————————————————————

“Are you sure about this..? The last thing I want is to hurt you, Pearl.”

Azul shuffled awkwardly in the Octavinelle pool. His tentacles had a mind of their own, however. It laches onto you instantly. You can feel the suction cups on your skin, and they hold on tightly. Scared to let you go. Those will surely leave a mark.

“I still can’t believe you’d want to cuddle someone like me..”

Azul muttered with a conflicted look. Soon, all of his worries washes away as you swim closer to him on your own accord to give him kisses all over his face, telling him how lucky you are to be able to see this side of him, and how much you love him.

Azul’s face bloomed to a darker shade of purple. His tentacles wrapped around you tightly as his arms cling onto you tightly. He hides his face in your chest and mutters a soft ‘I love you too’ and lets silence fill the room and you take comfort in each others arms.

——————————————————————————

Floyd

Oh boy, here we go

Floyd adore it when you squeeze him tightly. It feels as if you’re reciprocating his feelings of love!

No one has ever dared squeezed him back before, so you better keep it up or he’ll be mad and pouty for the whole day

Speaking of which, Azul uses your cuddles to help make Floyd more productive in the Monstro Lounge.

He likes it when you surprise him with your cuddles, and he likes to surprise you with his squeezes. It’s a win win situation for him!

“Shrimpy~~ you forgot to squeeze me today.. you have to make it up to me now!~~ Maybe I’ll keep you by my side for the whole day so I can squeeze you whenever I want!~~”

Floyd is a cuddler when he sleeps.

Ramshackle be damned, cause you’re sleeping in Octavinelle now with Floyd

(Grim does not like this ^)

You best believe he’ll cuddle you in your sleep, and you will too. The feeling of your arms around him makes him sleep faster

(Although every Wednesday at 1 am he wakes up for a midnight snack)

Floyd likes to put up a small fight with anyone who dares to take his shrimpy away from his ‘cuddle time’

He will also fight anyone he sees you cuddling with as well. Shrimpy’s hugs are reserved for him only!

(^he was picked a fight with Grim because of this)

((Grim is not happy))^

He nibbles and bites too if he feels like it

Which is basically everyday

Will get sad and pouty when you deny him of his daily cuddles and hugs, but you won’t deny him of his hugs, right?

You are his shrimpy, after all (:

———————————————————

“Eeeeeh? Shrimpy, where do you think you’re going?~~”

Floyd stalks behind you as you walk out of his dorm room. His heterochromatic eyes stared into your soul. His eyebrows scrunched up and a frown was plastered on his face. He hasn’t even finished changing yet!

“You haven’t given me my morning hugs and kisses yet!~~”

The eel whines as he drapes himself over your body. Long lanky arms snake up from behind as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Shrimpy is so mean..~ depriving me of my hugs and kisses..”

He pouts as you laugh warmly at how childish he was being. You turned around and embraced the silly eel in your arms and pressed kisses all over his face and gave him a tight squeeze. Floyd instantly brightens up, and he lets out a ‘yay!’ in response.

——————————————————————————

A.N: can you tell who I like the most lmao

[a-crochet-spider]

Matthew Patel headcanons but I'm vaguely mean about it

I really do love him you guys I swear the brainrot is real

• Talks in all caps all the time. He does not know what the word chill means and he never intends to learn.

• Very expressive, especially with body language. Has hit people in the face because of his gesturing and doesn’t apologize.

• As he is a very intense person, his feelings towards people are also very intense, so he is either completely enamored with someone or hates their guts, no in between.

• Sure, he’s super over the top most of the time, but privately he’s the most pathetic sopping wet cat of a man you’ll ever have the (dis)pleasure of meeting.

• His music taste is evenly divided between musicals and 2000s emo music (it was not just a phase and he didn’t grow out of it). He also won't listen to anything else no matter how hard you try to make him.

• He likes Mindless Self Indulgence a lot

• He either dresses in suits or like a homeless teenager. Again, no in between.

• He knows how to knit but if you ever walk in on him doing it he will yell at you to leave (and maybe apologize later for yelling if he likes you).

• Feral bisexual, obviously.

• He’s a trophy husband for sure. He hated being a CEO, he hates working, he just wants to either put on his silly little musicals or stay home.

• He puts so much product in his hair to keep it the specific way he likes it. During the day it’s very crunchy.

• On the topic of personal hygiene, he is extremely on top of taking care himself. It takes him an hour to get ready to go anywhere. His eyeliner is put on with unbelievable care. He picks out most of his outfits with a very specific ideal in mind. He probably has a skin care routine.

• He probably smells nice too. He uses a normal cologne, but it’s probably wildly overpriced and smells really good.

• Quality time is his love language.

• He’s obviously extremely confident in himself but specifically when he knows he’s in charge. If there’s any doubt he will trip tf up.

• Probably knows how to cook. He can and will brag about this.

• Has had a Tumblr blog since middle school where he posts all of his theatre kid brainrot. Nobody knows about this except Ramona, who has graciously not told anyone yet.

• The LIGHTEST sleeper ever. The tiniest thing will wake him up. If you slightly nudge him while he’s asleep he wake up instantly.

• Only likes touch from specific people or if he initiates it first. Anything else results in someone getting physically injured.

• He is incapable of sitting like a normal person. He just bends himself in so many weird ways that he’ll end up taking up the whole sofa if he isn’t stopped.

[strawberry-cowmilk]

studying with the brothers

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: none

-----

Lucifer

studying with lucifer actually means studying

and this man can go on for three hours without breaks, so please know what you might get into when you ask him to study with you

after you're done he's probably a little tired, he'll drink some coffee or tea to wake up again (no he will not take a nap no matter how nicely you ask)

Mammon

the first 5 minutes are the most productive

after said 5 minutes mammon won't focus on the work anymore

'cmon mc let's go to the mall or take a ride in the car! we'll finish this later'

most of the time the 'later' is less than an hour before some deadline, if you already finished before him mammon will be willing to pay you for some help

Leviathan

kind of the same as mammon, only he has some trouble actually getting into the work

he'll eventually pull out his ddd and starts watching some anime on it, if you too are distracted he'll let you watch too

but if you're trying to work levi wears some headphones and watches the show on his own

there have beeb times he emailed the prof saying he probably won't make the deadline but usually he does his work on time (unless some new game got released)

Satan

studying with satan means you're actually going to get work done

unlike lucifer he does take little 5 minute breaks every now and then

he read in a book that's good for your thinking abilities

if you don't understand something he'd gladly explain it to you

satan is also the kind of person that would hand in something a week before the deadline

Asmodeus

if the studying is for an assignment asmo will do literally nothing until the last hour before it needs to be done and handed in

be doesn't stress over it he's just annoyed because 'it happened again'

and studying with him probably means you'll do a lot together, so no working alone for yourself

and after everything is done he'll treat himself (and you if you want) to something nice like a warm bath

Beelzebub

like asmo he probably starts working on something an hour before the deadline

he writes a first draft and goes 'good enough' and hands it in

studying together can get kind of messy since beel might bring a ton of snacks that take up a lot of place on the desk

and he too gets distracted after a while

sometimes he'll ask belphie, satan or lucifer for help when neither of you understand something

Belphegor

he prefers to work alone but you're nice company

belphie usually reads the book like once and he's done, and he actually remembered it

there have been times he feel asleep in the middle of studying

also he's surprisingly good at explaining things, you'd instantly understand something you were having trouble with

[strawberryxfieldz]

Garden of Eden (Wally x Reader)

a fluffy Wally/Reader one-shot I posted on my AO3 and figured I’d post on Tumblr!

since my main Wally/Reader fic has a darker plot, I really wanted to write some fluff for the puppet man. no experiencing the dreadful horrors here! Just pure fluff and stuff. short and sweet! Enjoy! @:)

CW for eye contact (yknow how it is)

Welcome Home Masterlist

When you wake up in the morning, you always have the assurance of Wally’s presence beside you. He had a sleep mask on and pajamas but you knew he wasn’t really asleep. Wally didn’t really understand the concept of sleep and took to repeating “I’m sleeping” over and over again in a hushed whisper that lulled you to sleep at night. Right now, though, he was simply smiling, hands folded on his chest.

You leaned over to pull his sleep mask off his face and press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

“Oh!” His face lit up with delight. “You’re awake!”

You cuddled into his side, resting your head in the space between his neck and shoulder. He smiled and put an arm around you, hugging you closer.

“Yeah…” you replied with a tired groan. “Five more minutes before we get out of bed, though. I’m still sleepy.”

“Take your time, my love.” Wally kissed your head as you lay there, peaceful and happy in his arms.

You weren’t sure what you did to deserve this life with Wally but you certainly knew you loved it. You loved that you realized your feelings for each other, that you moved into Home with him, and that you were able to start off every morning like this.

Soon, you’d be out of bed and in the kitchen, helping each other make pancakes. Perhaps some would burn—Wally wasn’t the greatest cook—but you would laugh it off. At some point, you’d push back Wally’s long blue hair that liked to cover half of his face when down. He didn’t enjoy having to go without his pompadour (he used to hate you seeing him like that especially) but he was used to it now. You’d told him enough about how pretty you found him without all his hair products until he believed it. When his whole face was revealed, you gave him a loving, sweet kiss that he'd lean into with a smile.

After, you’d find yourselves underneath the big apple tree in your yard, humming songs and telling stories. Wally’s hair was done by now, and he had a sketchbook in his lap as he doodled many things, including you. You, meanwhile, were doing your best to make a flower crown. Julie taught you how to the other day. Unfortunately, you didn’t seem to be a quick learner.

“It’s not coming out right,” you whined, disappointment high in your voice.

Wally glanced up from his drawing to look at you. “Here. Let me see.”

You handed him your sad attempt at a flower crown with a frown. Wally didn’t hesitate to put it on his head and he gave you a small smile.

“How do I look?” he asked.

You suppressed a laugh at seeing the ridiculous mess of already-unwinding flowers sat atop him.

“The most.” You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Just as always.”

Wally smiled warmly at you, a bit lovestruck, and you couldn’t help but kiss him again, this time on his mouth.

Being a puppet, Wally didn’t exactly have lips to kiss, just felt. It also meant he didn’t understand the concept of kissing. He knew it was a declaration of love and, by now, he knew it was one of your favorite ways of giving affection. Still, he didn’t actually kiss back so much as press his face against yours as best as possible and make a ‘mwah’ sound when you leaned away. You considered it kissing, though, even if he did it wrong. He was just too adorable.

“You’re the one who's the most, darling,” he cooed.

You felt something ignite in your chest when he called you that. ‘Darling’ being his surname made it all the more flustering.

“But you’re so beautiful,” you insisted. You moved to cradle his face with your hands and he instantly stilled. “Here…” You kissed his forehead. “…here…” You kissed the space between his eyes where a nose would be. “…and here…!” You quickly pressed another kiss to his mouth.

“Mwah!” Wally said enthusiastically when you pulled back.

You giggled and scooted closer beside him. He rested against your side, leaning his head against your arm.

"What're you drawing there?" you hummed after another minute or two.

Wally held up his sketchpad proudly. He was only working with a few crayons and there was nothing but scribbles on the page, yet you were able to recognize your likeness pretty well between the lines. 

"You!" he replied with a sappy smile. "It's my favorite thing to draw, after all!"

You immediately threw him into a hug. Wally was much more accustomed to hugs thanks to his fellow neighbors but still went limp in them. It was like embracing a warm ragdoll, and you'd think Wally didn't like it from his lack of reciprocation if it weren't for the happy hum he made when his face was pressed against your shoulder. 

"Wally, you're so talented," you told him as you leaned away. "I'm so lucky."

Wally beamed back at you before continuing to color, content. You let him draw, relaxing in the relative silence between you, mind still whirring. As peaceful as the moment was, you couldn't help feeling dismayed. 

Wally did too much for you. He was always making art for you, his greatest muse, and he learned your ways of physical affection for you, even if he still didn't understand it all too well. There had to be something you could do for him in return before you felt like a totally inadequate partner to him. You racked your brain as you sat there, quiet, listening only to the sound of Wally's crayons moving against paper. That gave you an idea and you bit back a cheery smile as you made sure to store it away in your thoughts for later.

A few days later, you found yourself in the living room of Home, putting the finishing touches on your masterpiece. Well, okay, 'masterpiece' was a bit of an overstatement. In front of you, sitting atop a pile of old newspapers was a lump of clay very generously deemed a ceramic sculpture of an apple. There were too many bumps in the wrong places and the stem was leaning too far in one direction, making it askew, but it was still an apple!

At least, this is what you told yourself as you leaned back to examine your work. You put a finger to your mouth thoughtfully.

"I don't know..." you talked out loud to yourself. Then, remembering who you were with, asked, "What do you think, Home?"

Home made a sound that sounded like a door squeaking. You were pretty sure that was a good thing.

But, before you could mull over it any longer, you heard the front door open. You shot up from your spot on the couch, taking the ceramic in your hands and hiding it behind your back. A moment later, Wally walked in, a slight smile on his face that grew bigger upon seeing you.

"Hi, love!" you greeted, trying to seem as not suspicious as possible. "How was hanging out with Julie and Frank?"

"Fun." Wally nodded. "We chased a lot of butterflies. Frank got mad when I asked if I could keep them."

"Aw, I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Wally shrugged. "Friends shouldn't be caged in anyway. They should be flying free."

You smiled at the sentiment and leaned in to kiss his cheek, only to stop when he spoke again.

"What do you have behind you?" he asked, genuinely curious. 

You leaned back suddenly with a nervous smile. "Huh? Oh, nothing!"

"Can I see it?"

You rolled the ceramic in your hand, feeling every lump and crevice with a frown. Yet, you looked into Wally's big, black eyes, soft and caring as they stared back at you intently, and couldn't help but give in.

"Okay. Fine..." you sighed as you pulled the apple out from behind you. "It's, um, a thing I made for you."

You held it out to him so he could see it, bracing yourself for his reaction. 

Wally's eyes widened and his mouth parted with a small gasp. "An apple?"

"Yeah! It's made out of clay," you explained. You watched as he studied it before carefully taking it into his own hands. "You know, I figured since you like staring at your apples but they eventually all go bad... I'd make you one that never goes bad!"

Wally was quiet for a moment and his whole face brightened. "It's perfect!"

He walked over to the mantel and placed the ceramic there gently as you continued.

"Really?" Your smile twitched. "I know art is kind of your thing, I'm not as good at it but I just thought I'd do something for you since you do so much for me and-"

Wally smiled before pressing his mouth against the side of your face, effectively cutting off your rambling. You relaxed when he made a 'mwah!' sound as he leaned away. 

"I love it," he reassured you, voice soft. 

"Oh." You let out a sigh of relief. "Good."

"But why would you think you have to make something for me, silly?" Wally tilted his head. 

You looked down, suddenly feeling sheepish. Wally gingerly took one of your hands with his, giving you an encouraging nod. In return, you gave him a warm smile.

"I don't want you to think I'm inadequate," you replied with a shrug. "Because you're so talented and nice to me and all these other things and you deserve the best!"

Wally chuckled. You couldn't help but smile more at the sound of it, slow and monotone. You loved his laugh.

"You are the best," he told you, rubbing your hand with his thumb. "You're the most, darling. Your love is more than enough."

You felt a bundle of emotions begin to take over you, all so overwhelmingly happy you could hardly even fathom it. Gratitude, comfort, and pure love rushed through you as you continued to stare adoringly into those beautiful eyes. You wanted to jump for joy, hold Wally close to you and never, ever let go, and see to it that you made every day of the rest of his life perfect and full of love. Maybe then he would be able to feel a fraction of the amount of adoration you had for him and understand just how much he meant to you. 

Instead, you frowned playfully. "See what I mean?! You're too kind! It's not fair!"

Wally just laughed again. 

[siremasterlawrence]

The Handler’s Red Carpet Express 5 & 6

Hugh Jackman sitting at table in a New York City restaurant happens to see former CW and Superman actor Brandon Routh pass the window as he goes out to introduce himself and greet him.

Brandon agrees to join him under for an early breakfast’s to talk shop when the waiter who seems to be familiar to both of them appears in his inform causing a bit of a stir.

The man opens his mouth the wonder and delight of these two amazing guys as they hang on to every word he says as their life depends on it.

The way the man’s voice spoke it felt such as it calms him down after his divorce filings from his wife everything and everyone lost meaning.

Now he is finding new hope maybe he could pay for the man make him his main man he is saying this unpacking a lot hidden things in him.

He never knew he felt this could feel this such a shock to want something so fresh and yet so desperately needs to be able to live.

The man closer to Brandon flowing over him his breath felt like sunshine, it smells like the sweetest candy and he would never grow leary of it.

He fought the best he could his cock spring to life then his imagination running wild in a fit of heat he wants to kiss him so badly and he gave in.

“What would you like to order? Would you like our specials?”

“Anything you suggest really”

“You have a beautiful voice “

“Thank you! I’ll see what I can do”

“No don’t leave! I need to hear you more “

“Why don’t the two of you go to Hugh’s room and wait for me”

“You are brilliant “

“Ace”

“Good idea! Meet us there?”

“Did a fucking rainbow explode in here or something?” Hugh asked himself as the door swung open.

“Well I guess you planned a romantic dinner and you forgot about it.” Brandon suggest.

“If I did I think I would remember” he thinks out loud.

“I hope he comes soon his voice I so soothing.”

“I want to be ordered around…wait did I just say that?”

“Oh My God Me too!”

“I am hard…throbbing “

“I could burst “

“I can’t stop thinking about him”

The man walks into the room in a change of clothes catching their attention the settling back into a foggy you relinquish control.“What can we do for you?” They both beg.

The next week are on set despite the actors ongoing strike I managed to get hallmark all prepped in pre-production due to my efforts to get it started.

The two men waddle on stage in pain as I had order to their respective dressing room for a all out deep training in the video I had set up.

While they are busy I notice the first of my next to objects of desire walk onto set ready for a fight they pounce into their dressing rooms expecting something different.

It is the same set up except one minor thing the mirrors are tinted with a faint coloring in the backgrounds and he shook his head as he sat.

He awaits for his hair designer to walk in but in no way shape or form that is what he got in this room was about to reshape him for the rest of his life.

His is name is Luke Macfarlane famous for The Hallmark Channel Christmas specials they offer every year except of this truly ridiculous idea.

I have a grandiose movie Christmas special for this year to give the audience a hardy gift of a heart attack so will he as the color in the mirror grows.

His face slack a bit causing his body to go quack his mind goes into a spiral free falling in to it unknowingly it’s a a simple trick of the mind.

Across in the room next to him another actor famous for Hallmark Movies the supposed king of Hallmark Andrew W Walker sits in his chair.

The mirror becomes muddle as he reaches for a pieces of paper tower the clean the mirror his eyes are warped with spiral heavy induction.

His head falls back onto the top of the chair his eyes glued to the mirror glass images as he falls under my spell to and I dance with excitement.

The spirals disappear into a void causing them to wake up as they mindlessly leave to go on set and they take their cues it’s a club Christmas party.

The two guys walk in instantly getting both of their eyes to focus on him, Andrew scoffs walking over to Brandon blocking him to the wall.

Brandon smirks a bit listening to him chat a long way to get Brandon to open up and he is so enchanted with this super drunk ass moron and gave in to kissing him as he is succumbing.

“Who are you?”

“Whoever you want me to be?”

“Wow! A tv quote”

“So what?”

“You can’t get rid of me”

“You think so”

“My name is Luke”

“Call me Hugh”

“Why not babe?”

“Do you have him?”

“Yes Master Lawrence!”

“Well then! Why don’t you join me”

“I also have a surprise “

“What is this slave?”

“Justin Baldoni! “

“Correct! Why am I here?”

“To meet your maker “

“You are both god”

“You are right”

“Strip them”

“Strap them to table “

“Nnnnoooo”

“Say something Liam”

“He can’t hear you “

“I tranced him like you said”

“Excellent!l

“Well done”

“Don’t cry “

“Take a whiff of this”

“Who the…what the”

“Mwahahahahaha”

“Are you docile now?”

“Yes Sir”

“Good boi”

“Mmmm”

“After 24 hours of this spray “

“You will be mine”

“How delightfully delicious “

I see two more guys arrive at the station in a fit of testosterone and sex appeal Justin Baldoni and Trevor Donovan they are taken out by gloves and chloroformed tissue as they are knocked out a bit for me. They strapped him down to the table for my transformer for a lifetime.

“They are next”

“Strap them down”

“I love this forever “

The nd

[sooniessoulmate]

𝙳𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚈𝚘𝚞 - 𝚌𝚑.𝟷𝟻 - 𝙷𝚊𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

𝚌𝚑.𝟷𝟺 | 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚌𝚑.𝟷𝟼

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟻 : 𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚢

Exam day is finally here. You try to focus the best you can on your work, excited for what is coming after. You know Donghyuck has plans to meet Yeji at a cafe to finally end things with her. He’s going to finally be yours and yours only. Once the announcement is made that the time is up, you drop your test off on the instructor's desk,

following your friends out of the classroom. You don’t waste any time on small talk though, you say some pleasantries and hurry out of the university. You stop at a store on the way home, to pick up some fresh vegetables and steaks to cook a special meal for YOUR man and race home, waiting on Donghyuck to finally come over.

♡♡Meanwhile♡♡

Donghyuck sits at a table in a local cafe waiting on Yeji to show. She’s already fifteen minutes late. He pulls his phone out and shoots her a text.

DONGHYUCK: I’m at the cafe, where are you?

He doesn’t receive a text back though. He can’t understand why she wouldn’t even respond. Something just doesn’t feel right. He continues waiting another ten minutes before deciding to call her. The phone rings without being answered. Frustrated he instantly dials her back. Finally the call is answered.

“Where are you, Yeji?” he snaps, shocked by what he hears.

He runs out of the cafe and hurries to where Yeji is. Donghyuck walks into a hospital room, seeing his girlfriend peacefully sleeping in the bed. She is hooked up to all sorts of wires and tubes. Donghyuck is at a total loss for words. He runs out into the hallway to find a doctor to get some answers, returning to her room feeling defeated. He pulls his phone out to text you, wanting to inform you of what is going on when his phone dies. 

You wake up on the sofa, looking around realizing you must've slept through the night. You check your phone and don’t see any missed calls or texts from Donghyuck. You unlock your phone and dial his number but the call goes right to voicemail. 

You feel your heart break in half. He didn’t come back to you like he swore he would. Did Donghyuck decide to stay with her? Did he decide to forgive her and now they’re going to be a happy couple again? This is all your fault, you knew better than to get involved in a situation like this and a guy like him.

You meet your friends to finish up some missing assignments for your classes. Even though you aren't being too productive you can’t explain to your friends what is actually distracting you. You have to keep lying to them, pretending that everything is fine.

“I am so hungover,” Hendery complains, rubbing his head.

“Who’s idea was it to go out?” Doyoung asks.

Before anyone could answer, Jaemin, Jeno, and Johnny walks over to your table. 

“Don’t you get a break after the exams?” Jaemin wonders.

“Well…we still have some work we need to hand in,” Kun explains.

“We’re lucky you’re here,” Doyoung smiles. “Could you help with this part?” Jaemin leans over the table to get a better look. “This part?” Jaemin asks.

“Yea,” YangYang nods.

“Eh, to be honest, I'm not that good at this. Donghyuck is the expert, it’s a shame he’s not here with us,” Jaemin explains.

“Where is Donghyuck?” you ask, slowly looking up at Jaemin. You have to ask, you need to know where he is. Even if it’s going to destroy you, you know that you still need to hear it.

“His girlfriend was in a really bad car accident so he slept in the hospital last night,” Jaemin explains.

“Yeji woke up this morning though,” Jeno adds. “We just got back from the hospital. She seems to be ok now.”

“That’s good to hear,” Kun sighs. “Ok, let’s get back to work so we can get this shit finished.”

Yeji sits in her hospital bed, alone. Feeling an array of emotions, when Donghyuck walks back into her room. “Oh you're awake,” he states. “How are you feeling?”

She looks at him, not knowing what to say. She feels so much guilt  that she isn’t sure how to put what she needs to say into words.

He walks over to the table in the corner of the room and pours a glass of water, handing it to Yeji. “Here,” he says, handing her the glass of water. “I just talked to your mom on the phone, she should be here shortly.”

Yeji stares at him for a few seconds, “what about…the man who…”

“Oh the man who was driving?” Donghyuck interruptes. “He’s alright. He’ll be going home soon. He’s actually in the room next to yours. Do you want to go see him, Yeji?”

She stares down at her bed, internally panicking. “Donghyuck…”

He sits down on the bed next to her, “I’ve actually known for awhile now.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers as tears start to form in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Donghyuck. I know I really hurt you, Hyuck, didn’t I? I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t cry,” he sighs, wiping her cheek with his hand.

Once Yeji is released from the hospital, Donghyuck brings her home to her dorm. They walk inside together, he places two bags down on her desk then turns to look at her. “This is your medicine and this is dinner. Don’t forget to take your meds after dinner or your scar won’t heal,” he explains.

Yeji nods, looking at him with wide eyes.

He looks around, uncomfortable, “well, call me if you have some kind of emergency.” He turns to walk out of her room when Yeji grabs his hand, pulling him back towards her. 

“Are you leaving?” she asks, pouting.

“You weren’t here for so long, the room smells musty,” he says, changing the subject. Donghyuck walks over and opens the balcony door to let some fresh air inside. He steps out onto the balcony, Yeji following.

She takes a deep breath before speaking, “his name is Hyunseung. He’s a senior in my faculty. He knew that I had a boyfriend, but he was very persistent.”

Donghyuck slowly turns to look at her, “and you still talked to him?”

“He…he knew how to take care of girls. He took me to a lot of new places, places that I had never been to,” she explains as tears start to stream down her cheeks.

“And that includes him buying you things,” he adds. “Things that I can’t afford to buy you.”

“At first, I was just going to toy with him,” Yeji states. “But eventually I…”

“Had feelings for him?” Donghyuck interrupts, finishing the sentence for her. He leans over the railing to look out over the balcony then back at her. “For how long?”

“About…two months now,” Yeji confesses.

“Did you sleep with him,” he wonders.

“It was a mistake,” she insists. “This whole time, he wasn’t serious with me. He hangs out with so many other girls.”

“How do you know?” Donghyuck sighs.

“He never cared, Hyuck. Even when I was in the hospital. If he cared, he would have gotten a hold of me by now,” she cries.

“So you’re upset that he hasn’t contacted you?” Donghyuck huffs.

“No,” she denies. “I didn’t mean it that way. What I meant is, it made me realize that the only one who stands by me is you.”

She leans over, wrapping her arms around him as the tears continue to flow. “Hyuckie, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so so so sorry. Please don’t break up with me.”

He fights back tears when he sees you standing on your balcony, staring at him. Your eyes meet for a moment before he quickly looks away. You know what that means, you know he was staying with her and there is nothing you can do or say to change that. You turn and return inside your room as a tear runs down your cheek.

𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟 | 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗

@lostinneocity @delululi @multifandomania

[beanghostprincess]

What are your thoughts on lusopp? (Luffy x Usopp)

i just woke up so if my words are all over the place that's probably why! being productive right here! waking up early! somebody shoot me! fighting the urge to go back to sleep so i can reply to your silly lil awesome questions! i need a coffee.

AND!!! I REALLY LIKE THE SHIP!!! (just saw you're on impel down so i won't spoil anything!)

i mean, it's not my favorite ship and i'm not crazy about it like, idk, my fiancé is crazy about them (but again, she's crazy about zosan and lawlu and i'm not so we have to deal with each other's bullshit all the time). but i find their relationship really, really interesting and complex and cool to explore. i was just writing a fic about them being besties and super clingy, gonna cry. baby boys.

i personally see them more as just best friends, but hey! if there are cute fanarts and content i'm not going to scroll away!! it's a good and cute ship!!! they're bffs almost instantly and usopp's intelligence really disappears when he's with luffy which is, not only hilarious but extremely refreshing to see. let the anxious boy be dumb and reckless!! they're so chaotic!!

not to mention that it's not only their dynamic that makes them good, but the whole water 7/enies lobby thing. i fear that if i talk about this much i might start sobbing. but, like,,, their fight is the first time we see luffy actively cry on screen. we see luffy losing control of his crew, something he used to have control over. we see luffy lost and act impulsively and not knowing what to do because his best friend and sniper is about to go away and his heart fucking breaks into a million little pieces. because luffy sees usopp's potential and he wants him with the crew, but he can't do anything to help if usopp doesn't believe in himself. and also, the merry, which is another thing luffy loses control over and has to act like a logical captain about it but we all know it's heartbreaking for him too. and then there's usopp, who feels inferior and not worthy of being part of this amazing crew. even though he has shown over and over again to be part of this little family. he just feels like he doesn't belong here. and, you know, he says he's angry because of the merry but we all know the fight isn't about that.

so, we all agree that water 7 is very very peak lusopp (and sanuso, but tbf it's just peak usopp in general because he has great scenes with everyone. especially the monster trio, shout out to my boy zoro), and then enies lobby is when they make up and it's beautiful and heartbreaking and the way usopp yells at luffy to stand up and fight makes me want to curl up on the floor and sob for ages and ages and ag-

and i would go into detail about luffy's character but i don't want to spoil anything, so let's just focus on usopp here:

lusopp's dynamic works well both as a friendship and as a ship, mainly because they're both on the same page when it comes to silly shenanigans. we see them actively enjoying being with each other and doing stupid things together and that's just,,, so sweet. but also, usopp is one of those people that have to ground luffy sometimes and tell him "fuck, no. haha. we're so not doing that" because despite acting silly, he's pretty much more logical and rational than luffy is. but, you know, the reason he's like that most of the time is because he's scared of fucking dying (which i understand. i'd be scared too in that crew. i'm glad nami is always agreeing with him with these things), and he has to be the one to stop luffy (try to, at least. never really works) from doing extremely dangerous things. which is both hilarious and actually pretty cute to watch because it shows us how well usopp knows luffy. it's obvious that they're best friends. dude knows what luffy is going to do minutes before luffy even thinks about doing it. and luffy really, really admires and loves usopp's abilities and strengths and brains. all the things usopp is insecure about? luffy loves them!!!

and, you know, it's a good ship because they have that sort of bff energy, but if you make it romantic and angsty and more intimate? that's just better! i feel like their ship is just- those friendships that turn into romantic relationships but their dynamic doesn't really change at the end of the day? and i find that really endearing.

luffy makes usopp see the best in himself and makes him want to improve as a pirate to follow his dream and feel like he belongs in the crew. usopp makes luffy be a bit more grounded to reality whenever he needs to, and he was the first one to make luffy realize that, well, fuck, he's the captain of a ship and he needs to be responsible and make harsh decisions.

but now that they're together again, luffy is sooo not going to let him go ever again. and usopp will never try to do so because he just wants to keep fighting for him!!!

it's such an endearing and funny and angsty ship. i think i just don't really ship them much because i'm more of a sanuso/zolu kind of person. but at this point just make it poly and everybody is happy (except nami bc she has to deal with the 4 of them being in love and that would be extremely tiring. somebody bring back vivi for her PLEASE).

but yeah, cute ship. not my favorite but awesome to explore and tbh one of my favorite friendships in this show. very underrated but that's just bc usopp is underrated af and it makes my blood boil with anger and the fury of hell itself. that's for another day, though!

[vampirewritesonweekends]

'self-restraint' - Miguel O'hara X reader NSFW fanfiction

Length: 4.3k

Pairing: Miguel x Reader (I tried to keep it gender neutral)

Rating: 18+ only please, mdni

Summary: Miguel leaves his fight with an insatiable bloodlust still in his system. His options are; destroy half of headquarters in a blind fit of rage, or take this pent up aggression out on a streamy session with reader. Primal/animal instincts.

You felt a weight get up from the other side of the bed. It was still early. Far too early. You grumbled over, feeling for Miguel. ‘Mhm-?’ was all you could really manage in your half-awake effort. ‘Go back to sleep.’ He muttered quietly. He sounded tired already. ‘It’s… so early. It’s still dark out…’ You mumbled. ‘I know. I’ve got some stuff that needs taking care of.’ You felt his hand touch your hair lightly, telling you that he didn’t want to leave either. His hands were always warm. It was that warm touch that betrayed his cold exterior.

‘You need to sleep sometimes too, y’know…’ You leaned your head up into his hand. He was already showered and dressed in his suit. He’d clearly been up a while. ‘If the fate of the Multiverse didn’t depend on me… ’ He started.

‘You lose everyone with that ‘fate of the Multiverse’ spiel, Miguel…’ You laughed, trailing off into a yawn. You felt the warmth of his hand leave and soon heard the bedroom door close afterwards. 

You soon drifted back to sleep, missing Miguel, but ready to enjoy a few hours of having both sides of the bed. 

Miguel hadn’t slept much that night. Well really, he never slept much any night. He’d stayed up staring at the ceiling for long enough, he’d figured he may as well just get up and go to headquarters. If he was going to be awake anyway, he should just do something productive. He’d dragged himself out of the bed, careful not to wake your sleeping form. He couldn’t sleep, but you on the other hand, had no issue sleeping at any given time of day. How he envied you for that, but at least it meant that you hadn’t didn’t have so many things keeping you up at night. He sighed. 

Miguel stepped on to his platform, ‘ Lyla. ’ 

She appeared almost instantly, darting about with far too much energy for Miguel’s liking at that time of the morning. 

‘Mornin’, Miguel!’ She replied, ‘Jeez. You look rough.’ She tried to tease but he ignored her comments. He pulled up several orange screens in front of him, his dark red eyes analysing each one. 

‘How many did we have last night?’ He asked, already typing on various screens. At least his coffee was almost ready.

‘Three. Jess has taken one of them, local spiders are working on the others.’ Lyla replied, sliding different screens over to Miguel to look at.

He took a long sip of the bitter coffee, ‘Do they need back up?’

‘They haven’t called for it yet. I have two spiders on hand ready for if they’re needed.’ Lyla shrugged. They were able to contact for help if needs be, or even if they just summoned her she could send someone out for them right. Miguel went back to the screen he was looking at.

‘Alright.’ He replied.

‘Peter’s sent you 36 pictures of Mayday if you want to see them.’ 

‘Delete them.’ He muttered into his cup. Lyla zipped over to Miguel’s ear.

‘What the magic word?’ She asked, knowing full well that he wasn’t in the mood, ‘Come on… You gotta say it.’

Miguel sighed, his eyes closing for a moment as he pinched the bridge of his nose,  ' Please ...Delete them.' He couldn’t deal with thinking about all of that this morning. 

Lyla swiped the message away on the orange screen in front of her, 'Okay! Done!' She replied with a shit-eating grin. Someone had to put Miguel in his place, and by god if no one else was going to do it, Lyla would.

Miguel went back to the screen that he was working on, staring blankly at the information in front of him. No one would do it if he didn’t, he told himself time and time again. He took a long sip of his coffee, the bitter taste waking him up a bit.

'Miguel? The spider on Earth-832 has just requested back-up. I’ll send one of the two on standby.'

Miguel was already putting the coordinates for the dimension into h is watch. If he wants something done right, he has learned that he should just do it himself, 'No. I'll go.'

'You sure, Miguel? You've only just-' Lyla started but was abruptly cut off by the sound of the portal opening. Miguel walked through it without saying another word. Lyla shrugged, 'Okay.' 

A portal appeared in headquarters, sliced open by a set of bright red spinnerets. Miguel appeared through it, dragging an anomaly tied up with thick cords of red web. Miguel panted hard, dripping blood onto the floor with each step. He was almost on all fours, even after the fight had ended. Talons and teeth still bared.

'Lyla! Lyla!! ' He half-growled. Miguel threw the anomaly onto the ground in front of him, groaning as he launched the weight ahead of him. Lyla appeared, and then promptly moved out of way when the anomaly was thrown, ‘Have someone get this.’ The anomaly seemed as rage-filled as Miguel, angrily fighting against the red webbing that was incapacitating him. It had clearly been one hell of a fight. A disc appeared underneath the anomaly, caging him in a structure of red light. 

Lyla zipped from side to side, clicking on different screens as different devices started scanning Miguel and his vitals. Miguel shooed one of the devices away.

'I’m fine , Lyla.’ He muttered, taking no notice of her concerns.

'You’re losing blood. Miguel, go to the hospital wing.’ She told him, he was always so dramatic.

 Miguel ignored Lyla, already typing in his coordinates onto his watch, 'I'm going home… Contact me only in an emergency.'

'You need medical attention. I'll have someone come here-' She started but was promptly cut off.

'If anyone asks for me, tell them I died.' With that, Miguel disappeared back through the portal that had appeared in headquarters. 

'Okay.' She shrugged nonchalantly. She hovered over the anomaly, zipping around him, guess she was left to clean up his mess as per usual. 

You eventually rolled yourself out of bed at 9.30am. It wasn’t like you had much to do today anyway. You had just planned to give the apartment a clean and sort through some of the stuff you had brought over from your dimension. It had been a difficult thing for Miguel to live with some again, so you didn’t want to rush him all at once.

You thought of Miguel at Headquarters, gripping his coffee and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as another anomaly or stupid prank tested his patience. Miguel struggled to take a joke nowadays, but you couldn’t exactly blame him for it. If you worked all day, everyday with people who thought they were the stand up comedian of the team, you were sure you’d lose it too. 

You’d passed most of the morning doing nothing in particular. The apartment was clean by 12.30pm, since Miguel was pretty good at keeping things tidy in the first place, so there wasn’t much to clean anyway. The only time the tidiness tended to slip was if you were both out of the apartment house for days on end. You didn’t technically live with Miguel yet, but you were in the slow process of moving in, so you liked to try and keep on top of things since he was always out at work.

So you’d run yourself a bath, determined to do nothing else with your day except for maybe watch some TV and cook dinner for the both of you once Miguel had returned home that evening. 

You wondered what sort of day Miguel was having. You pictured him standing in line at the cafeteria around about now, choosing between the lesser of two evils when it came to what he was gonna eat that day. Little did you know, you were also on the menu. 

Just as you were dry and dressed, you heard a portal opening in the living room.

‘Home already?’ You asked, getting up from the bed. You walked into the living room, expecting to see Miguel exhausted on the sofa.

You weren’t quite prepared for the sight before you, Miguel looked like an animal. He was bent over, panting heavily, his eyes bright red, and his fangs bared. One of his hands clawed at his side, which was still dripping blood onto the floor. His head snapped in your direction, and he was immediately towering over you.

‘Oh my god, Miguel! you’re bleedi- Ah! ’ You were cut off by Miguel crashing his lips against yours. He backed you up against the hallway wall, gripping at your jaw to tilt your face up towards him. He wasn’t usually so rough. His hands were grabbing at your hips, your waist, your ass. He could concentrate enough to retract his talons to touch you, which you were very grateful for. You lost yourself in his kiss, literally taking your breath away. Your bottom lip grazed up against his fangs and produced a small bead of blood, a subtle reminder that Miguel wasn’t entirely human. Sometimes that fact escaped you, but you were very aware of it right now. 

He pulled back, letting you gasp for breath. It was the first time you’d gotten a proper look at him. Miguel was frantic . He was still high on bloodlust, eating away what was remaining of his humanity in that moment. 

‘Miguel! You’re hurt, let me patch you-’ You started, but was promptly cut off.

‘Ignore it.’ He snapped, ‘I need to…’ He half-panted, his breath hot on your neck. He pressed rough kisses against your skin. He scrunched his eyes shut, desperate to continue. Miguel was already so close to giving in to his animal instincts, and you had no intention of stopping him if this was the outlet he needed.

‘I know… It’s okay.’ You nodded. Miguel didn’t wait for further approval. His lips found yours again just as your hands found their way into his hair. You ran your fingers through his dark locks, pulling gently. You traced your hands along his neck, down his shoulders, and along his back, reaching down to palm him through his suit. He was already hard. Miguel bucked his hips against your hand, needing more.

Breaking the kiss, you slid down the wall and dropped to your knees in front of him. You watched as Miguel’s spider-suit dematerialised, freeing his erection. You swallowed at the sight, half-wishing you had been given a chance to flex your jaw before this. You knew Miguel was big , but it still intimidated you to know you needed to take all of him. 

Miguel couldn’t wait any longer, pressing his tip to your lips. You knew how desperate he must have been, since he never usually let himself finish first. He always took care of your needs before his own, so you knew somewhere in his consciousness that he would be feeling pretty selfish to be using you like this. Once again, not that you minded. You opened your mouth for him, taking him one inch at a time. It was no small feat. He pushed his dick all the way into your mouth to the point you were beginning to gag around it, and then held it there for a few seconds. He hissed slightly as he reached the back of your throat.

‘Fuck…’ He groaned. You massaged him with one hand, and held onto his hips with another, guiding him to find a rhythm that you could adjust to.

Miguel started to pick up the pace, throwing his head back as he let out sighs and groans whenever he hit the back of your throat. You gagged around him. It was uncomfortable having his cock in your mouth all at once, but you’d live. Hopefully. Miguel pushed himself into your throat again and again, the back of your head hitting off of the wall with each thrust. Miguel began pushing you away with his hips and then grabbing you by the hair to roughly pull your mouth back onto him. 

‘Ugh… ’ He groaned. It was taking every ounce of his self-restraint to not take you then and there against the wall. He lost all sense of himself and grabbed your own head with both hands, using it to fuck himself with, ‘Yeah… Don’t fucking stop.’  

Soon, the taste of salty pre-cum pooled over your tongue, coupled by the erratic nature of his thrusts, so it was obvious he was starting to get close. You could see the breathlessness on his face as he started to sweat a little. He looked upwards, as though he was praying for something. Miguel’s rabid movements got more aggressive as he started to groan, grabbing your head with both hands so he could fuck your throat more easily. You wiped the spit from your chin and Miguel took the opportunity to grab both of your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head. 

‘Shit…’ He muttered. Miguel thrust again, and you felt his hot cum slide down your throat. He forced you all the way down onto his shaft as he came, burying himself in you to prolong his high. You looked up at him, his eyes scrunched together in concentration as he rode out his orgasm, still fucking your mouth through it. You choked around him, your jaw aching from the overuse. Miguel pulled out of your throat and you gasped for breath. You breathed heavily, spluttering and wiping the tears from down your cheeks.

Miguel barely gave you a minute to collect yourself before he scooped you up off the floor and threw you over one of his huge shoulders. 

'M-Miguel?' You asked, a bit confused as to what was happening.

'I'm not finished with you.' That was all Miguel said as he carried you through the apartment towards the bedroom. 

Once you were in the bedroom, you were dropped onto the bed unceremoniously. Miguel's large hands were already grabbing at you, eager to relieve you of your clothes. He yanked your bottoms and underwear off, half tearing them in the process. You looked up at the looming figure above you, feeling exactly like a prey animal unable to escape their hunter. In a way, you were his prey. Miguel was still filled with bloodlust, and he had been unable to satiate it any other way than taking it out on you, one way or another. You figured that this was most definitely better than destroying half of headquarters in his rage. 

You reached a hand towards him, to try to touch the bruises and wounds he had gotten in his fight, but he beat you to it and crashed his lips against yours once again. You tasted a little bit of blood on his tongue, it must have been a nasty fight for Miguel to be so banged up. You reminded yourself to scold him later on for not seeing to his injuries before coming to find you. 

He roughly kissed along your jaw, trailing down onto your neck. He left a flutter of violet love-bites in his wake, a physical manifestation of his desperation in that moment. His hand was shaking slightly; trying to find the concentration to keep his claws retracted while touching you. Miguel must have decided that it was too much effort to pull your t-shirt over your head, so ripped straight through it. You were about to complain, but the feeling of his fingers finding their way in between your legs took any coherent thought that you might have had away.

‘Mhm…’ You breathed out, already so willing to melt against him and offer him everything. The sight of him looming over you like that, just like a beast, was almost too much for you to bear. Your thighs were shaking already. All that you cared about in that moment was the feeling of his fingers roughly exploring your folds and rubbing up against your clit, ‘Fuck- Miguel… You feel so good.’ 

Miguel kissed your bare chest, leaving goosebumps wherever he touched. He worked his way down and pushing your legs apart to make enough room for him. You gasped when you felt his lips press against your thighs, and then groaned when you felt his fangs. You waited, breathless in anticipation for when he’d finally touch you again. Surprisingly, you instead felt a sharp pain pierce into your skin.

‘Ah!’ You tried to sit up and see what had happened, but Miguel pushed you back down onto the bed. Immediately, the area started to tingle and numb

‘Just- Just stay still.’ Miguel retracted his fangs into his mouth. You felt his venom crawling from the bite mark and spreading through your leg and upwards through your body. It was fact-acting, and you were damn glad that it wasn’t lethal. Instead of your neck, his mouth now left those same dark love bites on your thighs, holding them in a vice grip on either side of his head so that you couldn’t squirm away from him. Not that you could, even if you wanted to, Miguel had made sure of that. He looked up from between your thighs, a wild look in his eye, daring you to even try to move away.

Miguel grabbed each thigh and began to get worked up again, losing himself to the sight of you spread for him. 

‘Did you fully bite me- Ah!’ but you barely got to the end of the sentence before his tongue was exploring your folds. You made it known whenever he brushed up against your clit, choking out his name in broken sighs until he focused all of his attention on it and sending your oversensitive nerves to heaven and back. He was rough, forceful, and fast, but he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Miguel had always been a gentleman, and made sure that you’d finished first before he fucked you. He was clearly trying to continue that, but it was testing the limits of his self-restraint to not already be inside of you. 

After a few minutes, his fingers entered you pressing up against your walls with the same rhythm he was licking at your clit with and verging on the edge of overstimulation. With concentrated effort, you managed to throw your hands into his hair, grabbing at his dark locks while you needed something to hold onto. You knew it spurred him on to have his hair pulled, even if he complained about it occasionally, but you knew he liked it nonetheless. As if on command, he groaned into you as you pulled his head closer to you. Miguel smothered you with kisses, burying his face exactly where you needed it to be. 

‘A-ah….’ You moaned, craving his fingers to move harder, faster. Miguel knew your body well by that point, and could tell that you were needing more. Miguel’s fingers began to pick up their almost ruthless pace as he busied his mouth with overstimulating you. It didn’t take long for Miguel to drive you right to the edge with the pressure in your abdomen building quickly. He groaned against you, desperate to get you off and already hard again. He could tell how close you were as you started to tighten around his fingers. ‘I’m gonn…’ You moaned,  ‘Fuck…Ah!’ 

The pressure that had been building so quickly inside of you suddenly snapped. Overwhelming sensation wracked your body as Miguel continued to pleasure you through your high.You threw your arms back onto the bed, panting. You tried to move away from Miguel’s face, the overstimulation continuing all the way through your orgasm. However, you found that Miguel’s venom was still affecting your legs so you couldn’t get away from his mouth; resulting in you being completely at Miguel’s mercy while his pace had not slowed down. He didn’t torture you like this for too long thankfully, he needed to be inside of you again as quickly as you needed him to be. He pulled his fingers out of you and at once you mourned the loss of them.  

Miguel leaned over you, as breathless as you were. He held your legs and wrapped them around his waist, then lined his tip up against your entrance. Your legs were slightly too numb to use on your own, but you’d mastered use of your arms again; they’d just tingle slightly for a while. You cupped his jaw with both hands, gazing into his hungry face. There was undeniably lust in his eyes, but also a prominent need to hunt his prey and find an outlet for the animal instincts that had taken over him. 

‘You’re… so difficult to restrain myself around, mi vida.’ He sighed, his breathing ragged and desperate. 

‘Then don’t…’ You whispered in his ear, pulling him closer. Miguel couldn’t wait any longer and started to thrust slowly into you. He tried to be as patient as possible since he knew it wasn’t easy to take his length. His wild lips found yours in an instant, distracting you from the slight wince of pain as you adjusted to his size. You nodded when you were ready for him to start moving, and Miguel did not waste a single moment after that. 

He started slower to let you get used to him and quickly picked up the pace. Miguel’s fingers were nothing in comparison to his cock. He pushed yout thighs further apart so that he could thrust harder.

This position let him hit you at a different, deeper angle and it made you entirely unable to process anything other than letting out cries and moans after every thrust. He pounded into you again and again, it was clear that Miguel was getting closer because his pace was growing uneven and frantic, desperate to find his own orgasm inside you.

Hearing him groan so loudly was wonderful, it felt like a drug, with him being able to lose control like that pushed you closer and closer to your own high. You heard each time his breath caught in his throat, and how he would hiss whenever he would hit you at a new angle.

He was an animal, wild and erratic. You figured you ought to be lucky that his DNA wasn't crossed with one of those spiders that eat their mate after fucking them.You knew that Miguel didn’t like completely losing himself, letting those primal instincts take over any remaining logical part of his brain. He’d probably beat himself up afterwards for using you like this but at this point, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop even if he tried. 

‘¿Te gusta eso? Beg me for it. ’ He teased, watching for your reactions.

‘Please…’ You muttered, trying to piece a coherent thought together as he pounded into you again and again and pushed you closer to the edge once more.

‘ Louder.’ He growled, something raw from deep in his throat. It barely sounded like the  Miguel you knew at that point.

‘Please… Miguel-’ You cried, utterly mindless for anything except for the sensation of him inside of you. It didn’t take much of this before the pressure inside you snapped and you cried out his name in pleasure. Of course, Miguel didn’t stop and continued to fuck you all the way though your orgasm because he hadn’t cum yet and was still a wild animal chasing his own satisfaction. The way your walls were squeezing and fluttering drove him feral and nearly made him finish inside of you, but he wasn’t ready to let go just yet, he needed more of you. He was struggling to hold himself together and you heard his talons tear into the fabric of your bedsheets, unable to concentrate on retracting them. He managed to hold on to his own orgasm until yours  had finished, and then he continued fucking you.

Miguel continued groaning as he got closer, relishing in the remnants of your high. He threw his head back, gazing down at you. He wanted to look at your face before he came inside of you.

‘F-Fuck! ’ He choked out, ‘Dios mío-!’ Miguel leaned down to kiss you as he came, moaning into your mouth and filling you instantly. You felt his fangs graze against your bottom lip, threatening to pierce the soft skin. You didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything other than the ruthless thrusting of the man between your legs. 

 A litany of broken Spanish mumbled into your ear, Miguel too lost in his high to remember a single word of English. His muttering then eventually turned into soft whimpers as he came down from climax. Miguel pulled out of you and collapsed down onto the bed, sighing as he caught his breath. You rolled over to lay on his chest, panting beside him.

Your legs would need a little bit of time to recover before you could go and get cleaned up, but you knew Miguel would at least help you to the bathroom since it was his fault that you couldn’t really walk in the first place. It was quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room was the sound of laboured breathing.

‘Feel better?’ You laughed, seeing how much he had calmed down now that he had released that pent up aggression. 

‘Are you… hurt?’ Miguel asked eventually, not wanting to look at the bruised bite mark that he had made on your inner thigh. He should have had more self-restraint than that, he didn’t like losing himself like that. His eyes fell onto your arms, where he hadn’t realised he was squeezing so tight, or how dark the love-bites on your neck were. If he had been able to hold himself back even a fraction , you wouldn’t have been bitten and bruised. You pressed a kiss onto his shoulder and reached a shaky hand up to his face. 

‘I love all of you, Miguel, don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m fine.’ You leaned up to press a chaste kiss onto the corner of his mouth. You knew he was sorry about it, even though you didn’t really need him to say it. You had thoroughly enjoyed yourself. You poked a bruise that had formed on his abdomen, ‘Come on, you need bandaging up.’

[gemini-sensei]

Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz x Chubby!Best-friend!Reader

Fem!Reader ○ suggestive ○ unedited

CW: mentioned insecurity, mentioned drinking and drunken sex.

Idk what this is tbh. It just came to me, so have it.

Reader groans as bright light shines in her face. The first rays of sunlight hit her right in the eye when she peeks one open and she instantly closes it. Her head is pounding, which is the first sensation she feels and she wonders what the fuck is wrong. Next she turns over, away from the mean sun, and slams into a solid mass laying beside her. Someone else grunts, but they're warm, so Reader cuddles up to them so she can hide her face in their shoulder. Their skin was soft and-

Their skin?

As if trying to help jog her memory, soreness blooms to life in her lower stomach. She groans and curls up, feeling the blankets ticks her skin...

Her eyes shoot open and she immediately checks under the blanket. She's buck ass naked in a bed that is certainly not her own. There are dark purple hickeys on her thighs and some smaller, lighter brushes that looks like finger prints on her hips. She closes her legs and brings the blanket up to her chest which is similarly marked up like her thighs. Her heart starts racing, making her head hurt even more than it had just moments before.

The dull achiness in her lower abdomen tells her all she needs to know about last night, and all she can hope for is that she and whoever she slept with used a condom...

Of which, she is terrified to turn her head and see whoever is beside her. The idea that it’s a stranger is horrifying, but if it's someone she knows, then that will cause a massive amount of damage control. Despite not wanting to look, she knows she has to, so she slowly begins turning her head to look.

"Oh my god," she lets out as she sees her best friend laying shirtless beside her.

Hawk's hair is messed up, still trying to still up but it was a wreck. Sweat had soaked some of the product he uses to keep it up in his signature mohawk, causing some of it to hang in his face. His chest is covered in deep colored hickeys all the way up to his neck, there's even a bite mark on his shoulder. The blanket covers him from the waist down, his happy trail barely peeking out.

Reader begins shaking him. "Hawk. Hawk, wake up!"

He groans and swats at her hand, turning on his side facing her. "Can't... too tired."

"Eli, get up!" she says firmly, stressing his name so he knew it was serious.

He huffed, face scrunched up with disappointment at the mere idea of having to get up. He rolled onto his back again and ran a hand over his face, then sighed. However, his attitude was adjusted as soon as he opened his eyes and took in the sight in front of him: Reader beside him in bed, holding a blanket to her bare chest and a wide eyed, oh-shit look on her face.

"What happened?" he asks, looking down at himself. He can't even see all the hockeys he has, but he's more concerned with where his clothes have gone. He peeks under the blanket to see if he's wearing anything at all, but he's met his soft, cream covered cock. "Did we...?"

Reader nods as he looks at her, shifting uncomfortably as they came face to face with this development.

"I mean, I'm pretty sure we did." She groans and moves a hand to hold her lower belly. The discomfort is palpable as her face scrunched up. "Oh God..."

Hawk sits up and rubs her arm in hopes to comfort her somehow. He feels bad because she's hurting, but can't help feeling a little proud at the fact that she's still feeling it the morning after. At the same time, he's holding his head because of the hangover.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he asks, wanting to be there for her... wherever they are...

She whines, rubbing at her belly and Hawk can't help but stare, flashes of the night before coming back to him.

He sees her under him, pleasure written across her face as he fucks her. It's like an image imprinted on his mind, but anything before or after that single moment was still too fuzzy to make out.

"I just wanna go home," she says, pulling him from his memory searching. She looks at him, shyly pulling the blanket around her plump body to hide. "Can you... can you maybe find my clothes?"

He nods and makes a quick once over of the room before getting up. He takes the sheet to cover himself, leaving her the blanket so she'll stay warm. He finds her panties first, holding them up on one finger to inspect their destroyed status as it looks like they've been ripped apart. He stares at them, asking himself how he can't possibly remember last night if it was apparently pantie-ripping good.

He tosses them aside, deeming them useless, and goes on to find Reader's dress. He brings it to her, not too concerned with finding any of his own clothes yet. When she takes it from him, he turns away to give her some privacy to pull it over her head. Though he has a hazy memory of her body from the night before, he knows she doesn't want him - or anyone really - to see her body. He knows she's thinks she's "too fat" to be attractive, but she's so far off with that thinking. She's beautiful, but he doesn't look out of respect and her own comfort.

He starts looking for her clothes and finds his boxers, quickly slipping them on. He's ready to scour the room for his shirt and pants when he hears Reader make an uncertain hum. So he turns to her to see what's wrong.

She's watching him, worry and anxiety in her eyes. Her lip pouts out and he doesn't have to ask her what's wrong.

She asks first, "This is gonna ruin everything, isn't it?"

[natasha-in-space]

Random Mystic Messenger headcanons that live in my head rent-free

Some are angsty, some are cute - it's a mixed bag

- Zen enjoys doing skincare with you. It's a shared process. He lets you put sheet masks on him and, more than anything, he adores the feeling of being pampered by you. You two have a separate case just for your skincare products. His job makes it difficult sometimes to spend time with you, so knowing that, at the end of the day, he'll undoubtedly get to enjoy your company keeps him motivated throughout his practice. It's his favourite time of the day.

- More than anything else, Yoosung wants to feel content. All the days spent in front of his computer or cooped up listening to a boring lecture he doesn't care about eat away at him slowly but surely. His back aches from spending hours in a sitting position and he often collapses into his bed, feeling utterly useless and drained. Deep down, he knows that he's just burned out, but these ugly thoughts are just too loud to overcome with common sense. He feels like he goes through life blindly like he's in a thick fog clouding his vision and slowing down his movement. He fears disappointing his family if he speaks up about the way he feels and the crushing expectations put on him for being a star student in his school years are just the cherry on top of the cake. More than anything, he wants to breathe freely, without feeling like he's slowly being crushed under the heavy weight of his grief.

- Jaehee has shockingly good leadership skills! If push comes to shove, she can somehow manage to make even the oddest group of people come together to complete a task. When she gets in the zone, she has this natural charisma emanating from her, and you can't help but feel deep respect for her abilities. She just believes she's in no position to take the leading role most of the time, and it's only when you share your amazement for her skills with her does she first starts to reassess her own image of herself.

- Jumin's kisses are the gentlest touch you have ever felt in your entire life. Most of the time, he's so afraid that he's dreaming when he gets to kiss you like this. He's so terrified that he'll wake up in his bed all alone the next morning, only to realize that you were not real. He's incredibly tender when he presses his lips to yours, his thumb caressing the soft skin of your cheek to reassure himself that you're indeed right here, next to him. It's like he's wordlessly begging you to stay by his side, too afraid to speak those vulnerable words out loud.

- Saeyoung adores it when you let him rest his head on your lap. The feeling of your fingers lazily combing through his hair, as the warmth of your soft thighs beneath his cheek lulls him to sleep is heavenly to him. He feels so loved and safe pressed up against you like this that he actually cried the first time you did this for him. Whenever he gets nightmares, you offer him to rest his head on your lap as you hum soft lullabies to ease his worries.

- Jihyun is a huge fan of classical music. It's to the point where he barely listens to anything else. You'll have to introduce him to other genres of music yourself cause he's so stuck in his ways. This man is an old soul through and through. Though, it's not so bad when he sweeps you into a sweet waltz in the middle of a kitchen. He can create a fairytale like setting with such ease that it takes your breath away.

- Ray is a highly empathetic person without even realizing it. That's why he tries to avoid big crowds whenever he can. He feels so incredibly overwhelmed with all these different emotions clouding his mind and he has no idea where they're even coming from. It scares him and he feels like there's something inherently wrong with him. Still, that's why he can just know when you're feeling unwell. He comes into your room and instantly reads your mood without even having to ask. He can also tell whenever Rika's feeling disheartened, but she brushes him off whenever he offers to comfort her most of the time.

- Deep down, what Suit Saeran longs for the most is to be accepted even if he's not the strongest. He's not at all as confident as he presents himself to be. He can't get a single night of restful sleep without nightmares of his past haunting him. If you, somehow, get him to sleep next to you, he'll bury his face into your hair or back, crushing you in his arms. He'll never let you see his face. His mother is something he fears and hates the most, he despises the fact that she keeps torturing him even now when he tries so incredibly hard to be stronger. He feels so insecure whenever he berates you, tries everything that comes to mind to put you down, and you just look him straight in the eye and refuse to break. He wants you to cry, to get angry, to do something. Prove to him that you're that weakling he wants you to be, prove to him that you're not a good person. Because if you are a genuinely good person that just wants to help him from the bottom of their heart... what in the world is he doing? And what does it mean for him? He's desperately trying to keep his facade of animosity together, but you can see the terrified boy begging to be acknowledged underneath. He realizes he can never let you go when you see this weak side of him and still refuse to give up on him. That's the moment he realizes that he'll do whatever it takes to ensure your safety.

- GE Saeran's kisses convey all of his feelings for you. He doesn't hide anything from you, and you can perfectly feel it through his touch. He tends to break away from you to whisper soft 'I love you's onto your skin over and over again. There's no more darkness clouding his mind. Everything feels perfect, like this is where he was always meant to be. He pulls away, breathless, and smiles. He loves you. He loves you so much.

- VAE Ray's favorite time of the day is around 2-3 pm when everything is still warm under the sun and all you want is to curl up in your room for an afternoon nap. Especially in late Spring or early Autumn, when it's not too hot or too cold. His scars are still quite sensitive to harsh weather, so he has to spend a lot of time indoors whenever the temperatures get too high or low for his comfort. He finds respite in short naps he can enjoy tucked in next to you on those days. Nightmares rarely bother him during the day, so he enjoys this peaceful slumber he gets to experience, while feeling your scent surrounding him in a cocoon of safety more than anything else.

- Unknown actually loves emoticons. That is, once you taught him how to use them properly. He has a bunch of them saved up in his notes so he does not need to go searching for the ones he needs. It's surprisingly hilarious cause he loves using them whenever you get on his nerves and he just does not want to waste his precious energy on typing out his responses. You just get a single: '(⁠눈⁠‸⁠눈⁠)', and that's how you know you're in trouble. Uses happy ones as a threat. You never knew seeing a notification of '◉⁠‿⁠◉' on your phone could make shivers crawl up your spine, but Unknown somehow manages to do exactly that.

- SE Saeran loves going out shopping with you. He rarely ventures outside for something like this alone, but with you, it's different. He can focus on your company next to him, and the world around him does not feel as overwhelmingly suffocating as it usually does. He still has a lot to learn about the modern world and that's what these trips to the convenience stores are meant for. You never once judged him for not knowing something basic or feeling confused by mundane details of day-to-day life. He's free to ask away and learn about the world around him, and that's exactly what he does. It's nothing big, and he does not want to do anything super exciting that will exhaust him at the end of the day. Simply taking a walk hand in hand through the local stores in your own pace is more than enough for him.

- Rika has incredible reflexes. Something could fall off the balcony while she's taking a walk through the garden with you, and she'll catch it without even taking her eyes off you for a second. It's practically impossible to catch her by surprise. She's so used to paying attention to every little detail in the environment around her that it became an autopilot for her. While it amazes you at first, you can't help but wonder what kind of life she must have lived to develop such high awareness of possible dangers both to herself and those around her. Your heart clenches in your chest at the thought.

- Vanderwood listens to a ton of rock and heavy metal. Iron Maiden, AC/DC, Aerosmith... Those are their go-to. They're very protective of their interests, so if they're willing to share their earbuds with you? Consider that one of the highest signs of their trust in you. It's so cute how they're glancing your way from time to time, as if to check whether or not you're enjoying the music. They'll gladly listen to your favorites as well. Music is something that helps them a lot whenever everything gets too hard to bear, so it's way more personal than it may seem at first glance.

Bonus round for my oc's!

- Natasha took a very long time to talk as a child. Her mother even considered taking her to the hospital cause she was getting highly concerned for her daughter, but, thankfully, things never turned for the worst in that regard. She was two years old when she spoke her first words and it was 'gobble gobble', cause she was watching a programme about turkeys at the time. She was running around gobbling like a tiny turkey for a good week or so after that.

- Chaewon's favorite fruit is pomegranate because she thought that the top part looked like a beautiful crown as a child. She even tried wearing it on her head once only to fail miserably. Rika's the only one who knows about this childhood story of hers and ever since learning it, she started brewing pomegranate tea whenever they have their meetings in her quarters.