#gotta draw all the boys later

[magiertama]

"You want me to praise you for that? Very well… Good job."

[blippin]

[llumimoon]

TFW ur shitty dad decides to prank ur whole school to teach you to be more chaotic but instead you just realize how attached you've become to certain people. This is the EAH AU's version of Spring Unsprung!!

Gotta give credit where credit is due, @silverlistenstothings really helped out with this arc !!! So many good Hermie thoughts as always ough <333

We decided this happens like right before the Big Plot Shit happens in the AU and instead of being a festival it's Hermie's Birthday !!! The cursed riddlebook is a gift from Scam that Hermie gives to Scary instead bc he doesn't rlly care about it, which . turns out to be a very bad idea. The curse quickly spreads throughout the school reversing everyone's personalities and causing Normal to try and pretty much end the world.

This arc is Hermie and Taylor focused !!! :D Although it is really fun to think about the reverse teens running rampant NWVEGWHAAHA reverse norm is a little treat for me <3 but reverse Link is SO INCREDIBLY FUNNY . shoutout to this message from @happi-tree bc it's been burned into my memory and I cant stop laughing about it

When it comes to the curse we decided that bonds and skills stay the same but the personalities are inverted, which means reverse Scary being sooo attached and clingy to Hermie is just her personality changing the way she decides to communicate her affection for who she sees as her best friend. Its cute <3

Herm is SUPER on edge due to being incredibly irritated with his dad and feeling insecure about his friendship with Taylor, who's having a bit of a crisis on his own about his feeling about Link. Toss in their shared homesickness for Wonderland, a realm they can't go back to, and Taylor panicking over a gift his mom left him going missing, well it's not good for anyone. How are they gonna figure things out enough to save Ever After from destruction?

(EAH AU is by me, @rindomness & @kaseyskat !!)

Image Description is under the cut

[ID: Image 1: Normal smirking evilly with a hand up to his chin and the other on his hip. His eyes are a light purple and he's saying "Hey." To his right is Scary happily waving while smiling, her eyes similarly a light purple. She's saying "OMG hiiii Herm!! <3"

Image 2: Hermie with a stunned and mad expression on their face and trying to pout tea from a teapot into a teacup but missing the cup by a lot. Their cat ears are turned downward and tucked against their head while their tail behind them is stuck straight up with fur sticking out in all directions. They have a thought bubble that says "I'm gonna KILL my dad." there's text in the bottom left that has an arrow pointing off the canvas and is labeled "Scam giggling off screen."

Image 3: Link doing the fuck boy expression, his eyes half lidded and biting the corner of his lip with a pointed hand on his chin, with his other hand with the thumb tucked into the top of his belt. His eyes are similarly a light purple and he's looking at Taylor. There's text with an arrow pointing at Link that says, "turned into a shitty fuck boi liar because of the curse" To his right stands Taylor who has his arms by his side in a dinosaur like pose and a grossed out and devastated expression on his face. His bunny ears are sticking straight up. There's an arrow pointing to him that says "Fucking Appalled" in all caps.

Image 4: Scary smiling with her eyes closed and hugging Hermie with one of her legs posed upward behind her. Hermie is standing still with their eyes obscured due to the shine of their glasses with a neutral expression on their face and their cat ears turned downward and their tail puffed up and sticking up. To their right stands Taylor with both his hands up to clutch his face and his bunny ears pointed downward. Scary is saying "Haha yaaaay besties forever after!!" with flowers and hearts drawn around her. There is an arrow pointed at her labeled "still cursed". Hermie has a thought bubble that says "MY DAD IS A DICK." and an arrow pointed at them that's labeled "so touch starved". Under that is an arrow pointing at Taylor that is labeled "having a gay crisis" and he is surrounded by question marks. He has a large thought bubble that says "Why am I so jealous that Link is flirting with everybody ohmygod do I have a crush on my best friend forever after holy shit what"

Image 5: Normal looking down with an evil smirk and light purple eyes with his hand out to hold something. Hermie looks up with a frustrated expression on their face and their pupil's sharpened and is clutching Normal's arm as his hand holds Hermie's chin. Normal is saying "Shame you've decided to get in my way kitten, I really did like you. Well whatever. It's not going to matter in a moment, nothing is. You're too late." the word "nothing" is underlined for emphasis.

Image 6: A discord screenshot of 'willy KILLER MAIMER DESTROYER' saying "Link: babe you’re being so fucking silly but hey at least you’re also hot. Wanna kiss maybe. That’s gotta fix you or whatever

Taylor: ???????????????? OK ACTUALLY I FORGOT I WAS GETTING LUNCH WITH HERMIE GOTTA GO under his breath wtf wtf wtf"/end ID]

[bogos-bint3d]

Why is it that when I try to sleep I am absolutely plagued with thoughts yet the moment I try to visualise said thoughts I have nothing

[rqnarok]

MOTIVE | dark!old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: strangers-with-benefits!old man!logan punishes you out of his jealousy.

— sequel to bed chem but could be read as a standalone!

content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. porn with little plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. dom!logan. sub!reader. possessive & jealous logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. power dynamics. cnc. heavy breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 2,6k 

You didn’t think Logan would care—or notice, even. 

This thing between you and him has been going on for months now. He picks you up from the diner you’re working at, drives you home (his house), then fucks you stupid throughout the after-hours. 

The sex is everything you have craved for, really, “Ya’ need a real man to do this shit, huh?” A real man who does all the work and stuffs you up with his cock until you’re only speaking in high-pitched whines.

But aside from that fact, something is missing. Something your big heart always had craved, something he failed to fill.

The lack of attention and affection.

Outside intercourses, he barely talks to you. He departs from the bed after every time you fall asleep—or when he thinks that you’re already asleep. Sometimes, he takes you back to your house in the morning, sometimes he just leaves you in his vacant residence. 

All bare and worn out.

You’d rest your head on his chest in the dim room, drawing shapes on his naked skin, “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.” 

The tips of his fingers subtly stroke the crown of your head, a light touch you can barely feel, “Go t’sleep, kid.”  

It’s too unstable and lacks consistency.

That is when you start talking, well specifically, messaging, a friend of a friend, someone around your age. You are not even attracted to him but he’s nice. He gives you attention and affection you hardly even register. But hey, you just want your big heart loaded up. No one can ever blame you.

What you didn’t know is that Logan notices everything. He notices how you start to sleep more later than usual, playing with your phone for a while. How your lips curve upwards at the glowy screen when you thought that he already left the room. Making him utter a question into the cold air, “What’re you lookin’ at?” 

Strangled, your phone falls into the sheets that cover your bare form, “N-nothing, really. Just texting my girlfriends.”

And Logan knows you’re fuckin’ lying right to his face. Because he remembers you told him one time in the beginning: “Sometimes I feel lonely at night. None of my friends are a night owl like me, y’know?” He fuckin’ remembers it all. 

On a random Friday, he decided he had known enough. He drives his way to your diner and there you are. Sitting too close to his liking with some fuckin’ boy; the way those giggles left your lips makes his stomach turn. 

You didn’t know that he was sitting in his car the whole time because he never visited you on a Friday night: “Gotta do somethin’” 

But there he was, gripping the steering wheel too tightly his knuckles turned white. Muttering curse after curse under his heavy breath. Playing over the last few weeks and trying to find what went sideways. But something always went sideways with him. 

He had hoped you would understand that his aloofness was merely a product of his scars and the long life he had lived. But now, seeing you in your apron whilst smiling at another man and pouring Logan's favorite black coffee—he wished he hadn’t been so cold towards you. 

What would he do without you? What would he do if you decided that you didn’t want some old man n’picked that boy? He shakes his head lightly, no, Logan needs you. 

The thought of you leaving him makes him fucking sick and he decided to do something ‘bout it.  

By something, he means having you on his bed, naked and splayed bare in front of him as he laps up and down your dripping pussy. 

“Pussy loves me so much, huh?” Logan murmurs as he squeezes your thighs that clamped around his neck, making you hum a mhmm to the pillow beside you.

Logan’s thick fingers eagerly stroke your clit while he continues licking your folds, earning soft mewls as your head tilts back in pleasure, “Ah- ‘M so close..!” 

“Doin’ so good for your old man.” You’re moaning and gripping his greying hair while you squirm on the sheets, rolling your hips down on his face.

You were so so so close to getting your orgasm before he abruptly pulled away and stood back up on his feet. Taking you by surprise. Delaying you. 

“W-what?”  Your head is still overflowing with your high when you watch him drape his way into the nearest armchair and put on his glasses as he reaches for today’s newspaper. As if he didn’t just have his tongue deep inside you a minute ago. 

Just as you try to catch your breath, you slowly get up in a sitting position to gape at him with your flushed cheeks and aroused body. You were so close and you need him back now. 

After a minute, you begin to notice how he grips the newsprint too tensely, how his brows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, how he keeps clenching his jaw on repeat, and how he looks furious and grumpy.

Something’s up. 

“L-Logan?” You call out to him. He clenched his jaw one more time until he could not contain his anger anymore. 

He takes off his glasses in a harsh tug and stares directly at you, “Are you fuckin’ him?” 

The way he looks at you sends electricity into your core, you feel like a deer caught in a headlight, “W-wha—who are you talking about?”

When he gets up from his seat, you can see the bulge on his pants, his stare still burning into you as if a predator catching its prey, “Fuck. That fuckin’ boy from the diner. Did ya’ let him touch what’s mine?” 

Oh. 

Oh.

He’s talking about your ‘friend of a friend’. How did he find that out? You began to wonder in silence. 

You gulp as he gets closer and closer into the bed, making you push your back onto the headboard subconsciously, “Oh- no, no, he— he’s just a friend, Logan.”

He isn’t satisfied with that answer, you know this because the bed squeaks out a creaking sound when he gets his whole weight on the bed, latching and trapping you, “Ya’ thought about leaving me, kiddo?” He rumbles as he squishes your face cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, looking at you sternly as if he’s scolding a misbehaved child, “Thought about leavin’ your old man?”

“N-no!  Never!—” You’re being honest! You would never leave him…you just needed a little more. By sensing his rage that radiates the entire room, you try your best to stare back at him with your doe-eyes, a look that never fails to weaken down his knees.

Then, you build up the courage to cradle his face with your soft palms and stroke his beard, focusing on the greying parts. “Just a friend, Logan. ‘Would never leave you.” Your voice comes out as a whisper but it successfully eases him down. You can hear his breath steadying after a while. 

He closes his eyes as he lurks forward towards you, greedily locking his lips onto yours, “Was so fuckin’ mad.” As he pulls away to mumble, you keep pampering kisses on his face—to assure him that you do want him and him only. 

He pulls down his pants and lets his cock spring free to his stomach. A sight of pre-cum on his heavy tip and the grith of his fat cock makes you cry out. 

Logan trails his hands from your face down and down until he reaches your pussy. It’s still as wet as he delayed it a few moments ago. His calloused finger probes at your entrance, making you whimper into his mouth. 

“This is all f’me, little girl?” He keeps teasing your folds in one hand while pinching your peaking nipples with his other hand. All while still looking at you oh, so hungrily. 

“Y-yes! All for you. No one else—” You fail to finish your sentence when he enters one finger into your heat, placing kisses on your collarbones and mumbling mhmm onto your skin.

You can’t hold it anymore since he delayed your orgasm earlier—you’d do anything, “Pleasepleaseplease, need’a cum, please!” 

The squelching sound of his finger moving in and out, in and out of your cunt didn’t help either. You’re staring at him lust-filled and dumbfounded; you wish he could just read your mind.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He removes his finger and brings it to his mouth, swirling it around his tongue to savor you, “Tastes so sweet too.” 

“Where d’ya want me?”

You whimper pathetically at his words while making grabby hands at him. “I-inside, pleasepleas—” At this point, you don’t even know what you’re begging for.

In fact, you don’t even know anything…

“Don’t got any rubber, kid. Can’t fuck you, y’know?” Logan is fucking a liar. He threw all the condoms he had into the trash bin this morning for this sole purpose. You mumbles a small ‘wha’ into his face because he delays you over and over just for him to delay you again? 

No, no, no—you gotta have him now. 

You look at him like he’s the only man - like nothing matters but him and he’s making you furrow your brows in sadness, in desperation. 

So then,

“I-it’s okay… you can- still-if you want to. I’ll let you.” 

Bingo. 

Just how Logan wants this to go. Because again, out of your awareness, this is how Logan punishes you. For making him so jealous he can barely get any sleep, for pulling away from him the entire week that he can only jerk his cock off to your pink ribboned panties (the one that you left on his house), and for making him think about you every second he’s awake because you’re his air.

He was so fucking pissed—but now, he feels that he had won already. 

“Mhm, no can do, princess. Don’t wan’ you to regret it.” Your face fell into disappointment, can’t he see how much you want this? How much you need him? “‘S alright, yeah?” He says and earns a whiny protest from you. 

Tears begin to build up in your eyes as you stutter over your words. All you’ve got is sobs because you’re so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight. You can only call out his name, trying to get his attention and affection. 

“Logan.” You’re squirming on the bed, wrapping your legs around his hips, pressing his body against yours— making him pull an indifferent look to continue on his act.  

“Next time, alright, kiddo?” He kisses the tip of your nose as a decoy. 

“N-no! Now! Please, Logan. Now, please—” You move your hips upwards and make his tip kiss your wetness. He begins to lose his composure when you wrap your small fingers around his cock. Logan grunts and lurches forward because he’s just an old man who needs you. There’s little he can do.

“Wan’ you inside…” You whisper breathlessly as you move your hands up and down on him the way he loves it, “‘S okay, Dada, I promise.” Your thumb swirls around his cockhead before bringing him closer and closer to where you want him until the tip pushes inside your aching folds, “‘Just pull out, okay?” 

Logan grins at you, showing his wrinkles. Oh, he won’t pull out. He knows he won’t. 

This is the climax of his ‘punishment’. Yes, he’s a bad man, the worst kind of man. But this is his only way to keep you, don’t you see? To make sure you won’t leave him, to make sure shit like yesterday won’t happen again. 

He bumps his nose into yours and kisses your forehead, “Y’sure, baby?” 

And you just let out a ‘yes’ because you just need him so so so badly. He nudges forward, in in in, until he’s buried inside of you—then he kisses your lips again. It’s so hot because he has never fucked you like this before, so raw and deep. After feeling your velvety walls, he knows he will never let you go. 

He starts a cruel pace and jolts you; your cute tits jiggle every time he thrusts inside—he’s sure that you’re made for him, to be with him. Put on this place to be his pretty baby and to have his baby. 

“Ya’ll let that boy do this to ya? Mm?” You shake your head rapidly at his question, hoping he’ll understand. And he does. “T-Tha’ right. Pussy’s glad to see me - loves me.” 

Your eyes squeezed so tight but he can’t stop, not when you’re squelching ‘round him and gripping him as if he’d disappear, “My good little girl - fuck - fuckin’ love you.” He confessed while burying his face on your neck and the only thing he has on his mind is puttin’ a baby in you.

It’s the truth: he loves you. More than anything–more than himself. He just doesn’t know how to show it in a normal way.

He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts—your moan gets louder and louder and louder. Logan takes your hands, interlinking your fingers together and kissing your knuckles.

You make these pathetic little noises, ah ah ahs, and he knows you’re close. Now is the time to do his final act, “Y’know why it feels so good, kid? 

He touching you everywhere: pinching your nipples and holding you by your throat,  “‘S ‘cause you’re fucking a real man, baby.”

“Y-yeah! Jus’ need a man—need you—” Logan nearly cums right there and then when he sees how tears stream down your cheeks as you look up at him in pure admiration—like you worship him. Again, just the way he wanted it.

Your shaky voice as a newborn fawn reminds him what he’s here for, what his punishment is to you.

“F-fuck. Gonna pull out soon, darlin’”

What? It’s too soon for you and your vice grip somehow manages to get stronger around him. He can barely withdraw before you squeeze your walls so deliciously and wrap your legs tighter; ankles locking his hips onto yours.  

“N-no! Don’t- don’t go anywhere— Staystaysta—” Logan sighs in relief. You ate up all his acts. It’s working. 

His palms move to your waist to work himself deeper in you, hitting that gummy spot that he knows will make you sob.

“Wha’dya mean no? Logan asks, “D-don’t wanna knock you up, kiddo.” Oh, but he does! He does. He does. “Gotta pull out. You don’t want that, ‘kay?” 

“I-I do! I do.” You finally plead to him with your soft voice. “I wan’ it..” 

Logan can’t last any second longer but it’s okay because you’re so close to getting to where he wants you.

He snarls a ‘Fuck’ under his breath and, “Gonna get ya’ pregnant, sweets.” His mouth gets to your neck and starts leaving dark bruises on your silky skin, “S’that what you want? My baby, hm?” 

“Yeah.” You squeak up while meeting down his thrusts, “Yeahyeahyea—gimme a baby.” You continue your mindless babble, your brain is empty except for the thoughts of him. “Fill me up, fill me up…” It’s becoming a plea. 

“I’ll fill you up, sweet girl.”

And he’s gone. Lips latching onto yours as you both reach ecstasy. Logan fucks you through it—fucks his seed so deep in you so it fuckin’ takes.

He wished he’d feel guilty as a sick old man for ruining you and your life—but here you are, milking him for all he’s got and telling him that you love him too.

You’re gorgeously unaware that he’s punishing you the entire time; you’re too fucked up when he’s spilling warm ropes of his cum on your walls. He pulls out slowly, staring at the white strings that gush out of your wet hole before plugging himself to make sure it takes.

Logan thinks everything’s fine because he’s got his assurance:  that you’re never going to leave him—that now you’re fully his—and that he has won. 

[zvdvdlvr]

from the club

Derek’s wolf whistle made you roll your eyes and try to slip into your seat without drawing too much attention. “Damn, mama,” he sang teasingly, eyeing you up and down.

“Derek Morgan! I ought to-“

“Whoa!”

You glared at Spencer, trying to ifnore the way his eyes trailed over your cleavage. “It’s like you guys have never even been in the presence of a female before,” you snark sarcastically. Secretly, though, you feel complimented that such aesthetically pleasing people thought you looked good.

Emily, Jennifer, Penelope, and Rossi were later than Hotch surprisingly. Aaron strode in next, laying a stack of files on the table. He sat down at his regular spot and turned to make conversation until the other arrived when he turned and saw you. His lips drew thinly over his face as he watched you reach over the table to grab a file. He swallowed and averted his eyes from you when you sat back in your seat. Hotch felt like a pervert and averted his mind to the more pressing matter. Dead bodies, knives, murder, he repeated to himself- trying to draw blood away from his crotch.

J.J., Penelope, and Emily arrived next. “Coffee for you all, my precious gems!” Penny sang, placing the team’s favorite brews in front of them. After she placed yours down her eyes gleamed and she raised her eyebrows. “Did you call-“

“Penelope!” You hollered, turning away from the red-head with a laugh. 

She just giggled and wiggled her eyebrows. As Emily took her place beside you, she leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I’m no better than the men here, y/n. You look hot.” 

You swatted her away and waited for J.J. to start the briefing. Emily snickered beside you.

There was really nothing professional about being called into work wearing low-rise jeans and a lacey tank top. But it wasn’t your fault- some of your college friends had stopped in the city and wanted to go to the club and wouldn’t take no as an answer.

Rossi showed up right before Hotch said his favorite phrase (read: “wheels up in 30”). You collected your file and started out of the room.

“Good lo- y/n!”

You whipped around to see Penelope rushinf towards you. “Wh-What?”

“You’ve surprised me more times today than I thought possible, darling girl. Turn around! I didn’t know you had ink!” 

You breathed out a sigh of relief and tried to ignore the feeling of her cold fingers tracing over the black ink just above your jeans. “I have some on the mid back too,” you said quietly.

“Impressive,” Rossi- of all people- hummed. “One of my ex wives roped me into getting a matching tattoo with her. The pain was somethinf else and the aftercare was hell. Rookie, here has a high pain tolerance.” He patted your practically bare shoulder and walked by without another word.

Emily purred lowly as she walked by, laughing at the way you flipped her off in return.

“You know, Jeffery Dahmer didn’t consume people that had tattoos… He said that the ‘tattoos made the meat taste like… shit’,” Reid spouted.

The way Spencer paused before saying shit was endearing. Maybe it was your attraction to nerds, but you felt particularly flattered at the weight of his gaze on you. “That’s interesting, Spencer,” you replied quietly. “Did you know the oldest recorded tattoo ink recipe required insect eggs?”

Spencer just hummed.

“I- uh,” Aaron cleared his throat. You stepped back from Penelope’s hands. “I imagine you have more professional attire?”

Your cheeks flushed. “Yes, Hotch. I’m really sorry, my friends convinced me to go out with them, you know, and I-“

Hotch chuckled and held his hands up. “It’s okay, y/n. What you do on your own time is your business,” he said.

You wrung your hands. “Thanks, Hotch.”

“No problem, y/n.” Hotch started to walk away and you felt Derek’s arm wrap around your shoulder. “Nice ink,” he called back to you. 

“I’ll see you on the plane, y/n,” Spencer told you with a wave. You smiled back at him and watched him run a hand through his hair as he walked away.

“Lover boy’s gotta thing for you, y/n,” Derek told you, a shit eating grin on his face. “And Hotch too, if I took a guess. I think you made the old man pop a bo-“

“Derek Morgan!”

You shoved him off of you and tried to ignore his gleeful laughter.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 ? ❞

❝ ALL THESE PEOPLE THINK LOVE'S FOR SHOW, BUT I WOULD DIE FOR YOU IN SECRET ! ❞

✧ pairing: suguru geto x sorcerer! reader

✧ summary: suguru's birthday spent with you is like a dream -- the perfect day spent in bliss, but what happens when the dream has to come to an end?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, jjk compliant au (reader is a sorcerer), domesticity, cuddling, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), improper massage technique, some angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc / geto's defection),

✧ wc: 3,015

The first thing Suguru felt were fingertips brushing against his cheek.

“Morning, birthday boy,” you murmured, and his almost violet eyes fluttered still half within the grasp of the sandman, and it didn’t help you looked as if you were the thing of dreams — your body clad only in his white button down, hair askew from your late night with him, and eyes filled with utter love and devotion, “finally waking up? Because I have a whole day planned for you,” 

His lips curl despite the sleep that weighed on his eyelids, a hum leaving his lips, as his fingers find you, even with his eyes closed — just as he always could, his fingers curling around your wrist, as he expertly tugged you and wrapped his arms around you. You were caged in around his limbs, pressed to his chest with barely any space to move, you’d be scared, if wasn’t exactly where you wanted to be. 

You sigh, burying your face in his chest, lips brushing the skin of his bare chest, “Sugu, come on, we can’t laze all day, I have a nice breakfast planned, and we’re having lunch with Satoru, Shoko, and Nanami later, and I have a million other nice things planned — none of which we can do if you don’t get out of bed,” 

“But you forgot something,” it’s his turn to sigh, as he shifts his face to rest against your neck, nose nearly tickling the skin there, as his lips press butterfly kisses, dotted like constellations along your neck and collarbone — as if he find the all the universe had to offer between the space of your neck and shoulder, “my favorite thing to do is right here,” 

You roll your eyes at the innuendo, a knowing smirk on his lips, one you didn’t need to see to know it was there — it was done against your neck after all, “If I recall, we did plenty of your favorite thing last night, and it’s the reason you’re probably so tired right now,” 

His fingers begin to toy with the buttons of his shirt that you’d stolen, “Well, they say you can never have too much of a good thing, after all,” 

“Oh, is that so?” and his lips find yours again to swallow your next retort, his lips gliding against yours and he can taste the coffee you had just had, the bitter taste mixed with your sweet tongue, that flicked not so sweetly against the seam of his lips. 

“You said I could have anything I want today,” he murmurs, beginning to undo the buttons one by one, as he revealed your body to his eyes — a twitch in his boxers as he realized you wore not a single thing underneath, “well right, all I want is you, for breakfast,” 

Your cheeks burn, thighs pressed together, his words sending a rush of heat down to your still aching cunt, “Sugu—” but his lips find yours again, his fingers busy with teasing your nipples — rolling both between his pointer finger and thumb, “fuck, baby—” 

“Gotta enjoy my meal baby,” his lips burn a trail of kisses down your body, his lips curling around your tit, his teeth grazing and teasing one and then the other, drawing a whimper from your lips, as he pulls his mouth away with a pop, “it’s the most important meal, and I have to start my birthday right, don’t I?” 

And his hands drag down your sides, large calloused fingers squeezing your hips, as he lifts your legs to hook around his shoulders, his dark gaze devouring the sight of your pretty cunt glistening with your slick, before his mouth and tongue would. 

His lips warm your outer lips, as his fingers tease your puffy little clit, pinching it, “Still swollen from last night,” his lips curl as you yelp in surprise, with a glare shot his way, that rolls into the back of your head as he buries his face in your sweet pussy. His nose grinds against your clit deliciously, as his tongue collects the pre already drenching you, humming at the taste — how was it that you were truly his favorite thing he tasted? You weren’t exactly sweet down there, but you were the only dessert he wanted (he’d leave the actual sugar to Satoru), “seems like you wanted this too by the way you’re leaking down here, my shirt and sheet is even wet,” he teases, making you cover your face in embarrassment, “don’t worry, sweetheart,” he smiles up at you with his slick covered lips and dripping chin, “I’ll clean you up.” 

“You don’t have to do this for me,” Suguru says, but you only shake your head, meeting his gaze in the mirror, with a roll of your eyes. 

“I want to do this for you,” as your fingers continue to comb his dark locks, finger twirling one strand between his fingers, “plus this is more for me than you, you never let me play with your hair at Jujutsu Tech,” you pouted, and he snorts. 

“First, you said ‘play,’ not do, and second, do you forget the first and only time I let you, Shoko, and Satoru do my hair?” and you stifle a laugh, badly disguised as a cough, as you lips part to answer, “don’t lie, I know you guys use it as your group chat photo,” 

“I only wanted to put clips and a scrunchie in your hair — dying your hair was all Satoru—” and his sharp look cuts you off, as you relent, before running your fingers through his hair, and easing another knot from his locks, “well isn’t this nice though?” and he nods, after your lips graze the edge of his hairline, “we’re almost done and you can tie your hair up after,” you hum. 

“Do you like my long hair?” and he meets your curious gaze in your reflection, “I mean, i decided to grow it out after we graduated, but I was wondering if you ever thought I should cut it,” 

You purse your lips, scrutinizing him in contemplation, “I love your hair either way, but you were always so meticulous about cutting it the same length, so why did you decide to grow it out?” His eyes fall to his lap, and he swallows, “you don’t have to—” you say softly, and his fingers find yours, squeezing. 

“I want to,” he echoes, as he bites his lip, “I heard when I was a kid that hair holds memories, and ever since Amanai and Haibara…I don’t want to ever forget them,” and he toys with a strand between his fingers, “And by keeping my hair longer, it feels like I can hold onto that, onto them,” he says softly, and you nod, “I know it’s not logical—”

“Not everything has to be logical, not everything has to have a reason,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck, “sometimes things can just be a thing you do — but either way, if you cut your hair or keep it long, I don’t think you’ll ever forget those two, and neither would they — ever,” and he turns to meet your lips in a slow kiss, your fingers ghosting his cheek, before you finally part, “come on, get dressed, we’re going to be late.” 

~~~~

“You told me he liked strawberry sponge and cream cake,” you punched Satoru in the shoulder, who takes it if only to appease you, with a pout, “you said that’s what he wanted this year, you blue eyed freak,” 

“It is! How was I supposed to know he’d lie to me?” 

“You know him for how many years and you can’t tell it was a lie?” 

“You’re his partner, you don’t know what cake he likes—” 

Suguru rubs his forehead, as you and Satoru continue to bicker, as he pulls a lighter out, and offers to light Shoko’s cigarette, as she leans on the windowsill of one of the open windows, “Those two never grow up do they?” and Suguru snorted, leaning against the wall next to her, facing the spectacle you and Satoru were making,  “why did you say strawberry cake?” 

“Because it’s both of their favorites,” his eyes slide to those two as Satoru used his infinity only to infuriate you, “I always had thought those two would have made a better match,” 

He feels Shoko’s eyes slide to him, “She loves you, not Satoru,” and his eyes find yours, just as they always did, and you smile the one smile he always hoped would be reserved for only him. 

“I know.” 

“Did we have to stay that long?” Suguru sighs, pulling off his jacket, “who slipped alcohol into Satoru’s plastic cup anyway?” and your pause gives it away, as he glances at you, pulling off your shoes, “sweetheart, you know he can’t handle his alcohol,” 

“Well someone should’ve handled their job right then,” and he laughs, as he walks over to wrap his arms around you, as you grumble, “you ask Mr. Six Eyes to do something — and he can’t even see through a lie, so are we really buying that he actually has them—” 

And his lips find yours again, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull you closer, “I believe you owe me a present still,” he kisses down your neck, and he feels you melt into his touch, your fingers splaying on his shoulders, “and I know exactly what I want,” 

“Well, I may have gotten you something a little different,” your lips curl. 

“A massage?” he raises an eyebrow, as you strip him down to his boxers on the bed, a few towels underneath him as you warmed the massage oil with your hands. He heard the squish and squelch of your fingers, and he felt his dick twitch, the noise sounding like something else. 

“You don’t relax enough, this way, I can help you relax a little,” you hum, as you stand beside him, “can I start?” and he bites his lip, but nods. 

“Go ahead, princess,” and you do — Suguru didn’t realize how many knots he had in his back, the muscles stiff and immovable at first, until you begin to work away at the bundles of stress he had accumulated. A moan slips from his lips as he feels the stress ebb away, a blush burning up his cheeks, “Sorry,” 

“No complaints here, baby,” you giggle. God, he was so fucking hot like this. His muscles were glistening with the oil, each muscle becoming more relaxed under your touch, the little grunts and groans that left his lips left another knot, but this one was in your cunt.

Suguru couldn’t help let these moans escape his lips, you were making him feel so good, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to move after this, his body far too limp. Or so he thought. Your hands were traveling lower and lower, until they brushed against the waistband of his boxers, and he shivers, “Sweetheart,” 

“What? You carry stress here too, and as your masseuse, I have to do a good job right?” you hum, “as long as my client permits me,” 

And he bites his lip, “I’ll permit anything from you, baby,” 

You don’t need any more words, as your fingers pull at the boxers, tugging the fabric down to reveal his ass, your fingers first ghosting over the flesh teasingly, before beginning to massage it. 

Fuck, now he was fully hard, his dick rubbing against the mattress — thank god you put down towels — as you worked out the knots in his gluteus muscle, but he didn’t know if you were helping him relax or not, because he never had felt more stiff. And it doesn’t escape your notice. 

You hum, “Maybe we need a different method,” your finger traces up and down your spine, “would my client mind turning over for me?” 

“Princess—” 

“Just one more thing to help you relax,” and he relents, turning over, to reveal the tent in his boxers, still drawn over his front, and your eyes fall to his cock, “and I see where all the stress has gone,” you tsk, as you climb onto the bed, straddling his waist, drawing a gasp from his lips, “poor baby,  all worked up still?” Your fingers traces his clothed head, a large wet patch that assuredly wasn’t massage oil, “I think I can relax you.” 

He’s biting his lip as he watches you tug down his boxers, fabric dragging against his erection as you do, slapping against his stomach, “Sweetheart—“ 

“Just let me do this for you, baby,” you murmur as you clean your hands with a rag and instead smear the beads of precum along his length, drawing a groan from his lips, “so sensitive for me, Sugu, been wanting me since morning haven’t you?” You hum, as you begin to work his cock with your hand, lips leaning down to press a kiss to his weeping tip, “it’s only fair if I get to taste you too — after all, I may have been your breakfast, but you’re my dessert,” 

And your lips wrap around his length, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, and tasting his salty precum. He groans, the noise burning a trail to your cunt, “s’good for me,” you murmured against him, as you took as much of him as you could, taking the rest in your hands.

His fingers weave into your hair, hips lightly bucking into your mouth, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, and you manage to suppress your gag reflex, “shit, sorry—“ but you cut off his apology by licking a thick stripe up one of his veins, before hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, “fuck, Princess, I’m close—I—“ and your fingers toy with his balls and your mouth redoubles his efforts, until he’s cumming down your throat with your name on his lips, his thick load painting your mouth and throat, as you swallow it eagerly. 

He flutter open, only to watch you pull your swollen lips from his length, strings of spit and cum still connecting you to his cock, before you wipe it away, “don’t worry baby,” you lean down to lick the beads of cum dripping from his tip, his hips jerking, “I’ll clean you up,” 

And after you get him all cleaned up, the two of you are in bed again, tucked up next to each other — Suguru was completely boneless, as you climb into bed beside him, “you okay baby?” 

He nods, smile on his lips, “More than okay after that,” he murmurs, lips finding yours, and then he pulls away with a pause, “but I didn’t get you off, baby,” and his forehead furrows as you chuckle. 

“Worry about that tomorrow, baby. I think you need some sleep now,” you crawl into his arms, your head pressed against his chest, you were so warm pressed against him, “got all I need right here,” you murmur, before you ask, “did you have a good birthday?” 

“I always do,” his fingers graze your cheek, as his eyes flutter shut, “always when I’m with you, Princess,” 

The first thing he feels, again, are soft fingers against his cheek, his eyes heavy with sleep, flutter open, as his brain catches with his body. 

“Master Geto? Master Geto?” His eyes finally flutter open to find Nanako and Mimiko at his bedside. 

He rubs at his eyes, as he stares at a ceiling for a moment, as he lets the haunting feel of your body slip from him — for a moment, he had let himself believe it was real — that you were with him, that he was still with you — all of you. 

“Happy Birthday, Master Geto,” they both intone together, and his gaze slides back to find the girls’ holding a birthday cake box. He blinks a moment, before he realizes. 

“Thank you both,” he sigh, sitting up, and even though he knows, he asks the question anyway, “it was left at the doorstep of the compound?” 

“Yes, the same one, the one that’s always left for you,” Mimiko answers as Nanako hands him the box, and he slips off the twine and opens the box to reveal a strawberry and cream sponge cake, “I didn’t know Master Geto even liked strawberry cake,” 

And he chuckles, as he stares at the cske, the residuals unbidden and clear as day who had left it — who had always left it, “I don’t but it was the favorite of two people very important to me before — you know I don’t care for sweets,” 

“I thought you didn’t care for sweets made by monkeys,” Nanako said, typing on her phone, before she snaps a picture or two of the cake, “why is this an exception?” 

“Because one of those special people baked it, and she’s a sorcerer,” and you always had — every year without fail. He didn’t even know how you had found him — he didn’t tend to stay in one place for too long, but you always did. 

As he lifts the cske out and hands it to the girls, “go slice it up and have a piece,” he smiles, “I’ll take care of the box,” and they nod, as Mimiko takes the cake while Nanako walks out staring at her phone still. 

It wasn’t the cake that he found special, but the card that was hidden at the bottom. It was nothing special — always a random card picked out with a birthday message printed on the outside — but no, what was special was the note you wrote. 

My favorite treat for my favorite birthday boy — I hope you have a good birthday — with your name signed below. 

His fingers twirled a strand of his hair, still far too long, as he traced your name with his finger. He hadn’t had a really good birthday — not without you. 

But, he opened the drawer of his bedside table, placing the card inside with the others, at least he could dream of one. 

✧ a/n: i've been hopping between my sukuna fic and prof geto 3, but i was bouncing back and forth between whether i wanted to write this or not, but i just had to for suguru - man has claimed a sweet spot. thank you to the anon who's idea i put on a spin on and @biancaness, who provided the massage idea :). this is also for @gaylatteart because their birthday is tomorrow, the day after suguru's. thank you bb for being so wonderful and congrats on doing the thing - i'm super proud of you!!

✧ taglist: @foxygemin1, @honeyangelsblog, @biancaness, @rwtard, @strangehuman101, @serendididy, @i-love-the8, @ririthedevil, @linastired, @bsaeshell, @jaceum, @going-to-californiaxx, @dontshuugo, @diogodxlot, @coffeebun17, @slikdolliy, @spider-fan72, @sophistication-as, @get0sfav, @klynne, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @heijihattorisgf, @teatreeoilll, @el172736738, @nem0philistx, @strawmariee, @mysuperrainbow

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . WARM ME UP ; — cock-warming various blue lock boys.

FEATURING: nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, bachira meguru + mikage reo.

warnings: f!reader, cockwarming, all characters written 22+, a little teasing in some, slight somno in bachi’s [hes inside of u before ur asleep], slight body worship (?) in reo’s, sensitive boys mostly. note: my mind spiralled w nagi’s first so that’s why his is longer but i decided 2 make it into hcs.

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO

“fuck—ah, y’re g’nna make me die, quit feeling sooo good ‘ts no fair.” nagi murmurs from where he’s got you spread across his lap, resting on the edge of his bed with his cock buried in your sweet walls as he tries to beat his own high score on his game.

you’d gotten a little bored watching him, a little needy as you pressed yourself up against him and admired the way he’d bite on his lower lip as he concentrated, skilful fingers tapping at the buttons on his controller as small, low grunts of frustration fell from his parted lips.

but nagi had welcomed you so easily when you’d made your way into his lap, lifting up his arms to allow you to slide right in before he sent you a lidded, questioning look when he felt you pull at the waistband of his sweats. “huh? ‘m in a game right now, angel.”

“it’ll help you concentrate, sei.. promise.”

it’s doing anything but though, the snowy-haired striker underneath you realises with another needy, warm twitch of your walls around him. even just the press of your chest against his is driving him crazy, feeling you press kisses along his jawline when he whines from missing another shot — he can barely concentrate on anything but you.

“no fair.. you made me miss another headshot, pretty thing.” nagi grumbles as he presses his forehead against your shoulder, sighing while a tight, cute pout rests on his lips. but it’s almost like an apology, the sinful press of your hips against his as you push closer — just enough to knock the air out of him when you press his cock even deeper into you.

“hey, c-come on! angel, y’re playing dirty, wanna up my online ranking.” there’s an unsteady waver to his words that’s followed by the instinctive twitch of his hips into yours, like he’s chasing more of the friction you're teasing him with as he sighs.

“think of it as a boss fight, sei.. don’t wanna make it too easy.” your words are whispery and pretty as you pull back to trace your fingertip across the shape of nagi’s jawline — drawing his full attention as his head twists to look at you. hes starry eyed and dazed, flushed from his cheeks to his neck and you’re pretty sure the eye contact alone makes his cock twitch from where it’s pressed into you.

“eh, ‘ts no fair when you know all my weaknesses, pretty thing. gotta try somethin’ else, i guess.” it’s drawled, filthy the low tone his voice takes before he’s drawing closer to kiss you, whimpering against your lips before he’s forgetting the controller in favour of grabbing you instead.

the quick movements are followed by your back meeting the mattress as he presses you into the sheets with every deep, messy press of his lips. “sei! your game.” you gasp when your words urge his first real thrust into you, so deep and good that your toes curl from where they’re wrapped around his hips.

“eh, it’s fine.. ‘ll beat it later, f-fuck—wanna win this side quest first.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI SAE

sae was tired from practice today, but you were feeling particularly needy and as much as his muscles ached — he still couldn’t help but use this opportunity to his advantage, especially when you were already palming at him just as he returned home.

“i’ve been at practice all day, know i’m tired. is this how you welcome me home?” he drawls from where he’s got you spread out against him — your back is resting against his chest as your head rolls back against his shoulder, thighs hooked over his own as his fingers circle your clit — unmoving even though his cock is already buried deep inside of you.

there’s a certain sharpness to sae’s tone that makes you twitch, shaking your head against him as your nails scratch along his forearm. you’re so desperate for him, for him to move and fuck you — it wouldn’t take much, not when he’s touching you just right, but it’s not enough — he knows that.

“just need you, sae. i, ah—missed you today..” your hips twitch above him, an obvious little plea as his cock brushes along the spongy spot inside of you but he’s too fast, sighing before his free hand is pressing your hips back tight against his.

"how much?" sae grunts with the sweet, frustrated whine that pushes past your lips as he grinds up into you - offering you an inch before he takes it from you completely, pressing a kiss against your shoulder after like hes trying to soothe you. "how much did you miss me, hm?"

the way he presses into your clit is deliberate, baring down harder on the puffy bud until you��re thighs are shaking and twitching, begging for him to hurry up and move. your lips part, head lolling back against his shoulder before he’s pressing another smeared kiss against your cheek, and sending you a sharp looks that’s urging you to hurry up and answer.

“so much, missed you so much! been waiting for you, sae.. wanted you here.” your voice breaks under the weight of your arousal but you swear you feel sae’s cock twitch at the sound. it’s followed by a low hum, like he’s considering your answer before his hand on your hip eases — finally letting you move with another slow roll of his own that presses his cock against the swollen, sweet spots inside of you.

“then take what you need, sweetheart. don’t keep me waiting.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI RIN

it was impossible to move rin from his place on the couch when he’s examining team plays, his own most importantly — teeth gritting with concentration despite the way you’re pressed into his chest, palming at his body as his cock rests inside of your slick cunt.

but as good as it feels, finally having him buried in you like you asked, you’d rather he was moving — turning you to putty above him and fucking every single thought out of your mind that wasn’t him. so you decide to test the boundaries a little, shifting your hips deliberately until you feel his large palms squeeze at your hips and your boyfriend hiss from between his teeth.

“quit— fuck, quit it.” you almost shiver at the low, sharp tone rin’s voice takes but you can tell there’s no real irritation behind it when you notice the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. he’s just as wound up as you are, his brows crumbling as he tries to focus on the tv infront of him — nibbling on his lower lip to distract him from the warm squeeze of your walls.

“you said you wouldn’t move..” he grits, still refusing to meet your gaze despite the way every squeeze of your hands across his body makes his breathing hitch. you’ve got him so fucking wound up, he’s so lukewarm — so sensitive, he can’t even control himself for 10 fucking minutes.

“but i need you, rin. not my fault you feel so good.” rin can feel the back of his neck stinging with a flush when you smear a kiss along his jawline, making his fingers squeeze even tighter into your hips before he’s growling under his breath. but the way you purr when he readjusts himself beneath you, melting into him with a tiny, slight grind of his cock into you makes him feel fucking dizzy.

it’s fast, the way he’s suddenly readjusting his feet and beginning a pace that’s too quick, and if it wasn’t for his grip on you — you’d have bounced off of his lap completely. every wet smack of his hips is loud and clapping and driven by the pure determination to feel you creaming around him as he sends the game on the tv a lidded glare.

“can’t even control yourself—uggh, shit—you’ve got until the first half finishes to cum or ‘m stopping.. and you better—take all of it.”

✩ ˛˚ . BACHIRA MEGURU

it had become sort of a routine at this point, bachira would come home from practice — wound up and so fucking hard before he was fucking you senseless, followed by him falling asleep pressed up against you while his cock still rested inside of your cunt.

you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t comfortable though and he knew exactly how to get you to accept, bathing you in wet presses of his lips and low chuckles. “jus’ wanna feel you round me, baby. m’kay? sleep sooo good like that, so warm.” you couldn’t deny him, not when you’re still coming down from the orgasm he’s dug out of you.

but now, you feel yourself wake up from your own nap — roused by the sudden movement behind you as you feel bachira’s chest press tighter against your back — followed by the sudden, deep press of his cock along the still swollen spots inside of you. “baby~ already so wet, should’a just woke me up if you wanted it, gotta take care of you.. m’kay?”

you’re not sure if it’s the sleep that still laces your body but you already feel like putty at his touch, he’s deliberately grazing his cock along the spots that crave him most — sending intoxicating little aftershocks through your body that have you gasping with every quick thrust.

bachira chuckles when your lips part to moan, followed by another loud, wet smack of his hips as his head rests against the back of your shoulder. “already so wet, baby. mhm.. you been dreaming ‘bout me? feels like you have~” he sings, whimpers when he feels you squeeze around him at the words but that only pushes him to go faster, deeper.

it’s hard to believe he was sleeping a moment ago with how well he’s working your body, palming and grabbing at your figure as moans fall from his lips — burying them into your skin as he smears kisses along your shoulders. every deep press of his cock is eased by the remnants of both your previous orgasms, squelching loudly as he pushes himself even deeper.

“awww~ i knew you wanted it, baby. mhm— ah! just gotta ask, can make you feel so good~ lemme take care of you, m’kay?”

✩ ˛˚ . MIKAGE REO

reo was obsessed with you, that much was obvious — although he’d spend his whole day proving it to you if he had to. every touch of his hands on your skin made you melt into him, he worked you with such precision but such a gentleness that you couldn’t help but seek out more.

but these moments specifically were some of your favourites, the ones when he’s pulled you onto his lap — onto his cock as his fingers leave featherlight touches along your skin as he looks up at you. it was intoxicating, to watch him appreciate every part of you, taking a slow, languid palmful of your breast as he loses himself in the mindless squeeze of your walls around him.

“does that feel good, bunny? yeah?” reo asks as his breathing cools the spit he’s left across your tits, giving you a lidded — dazed look until you’re nodding out a yes and he’s messily dragging his tongue along your nipple. you feel dizzy with how good it feels, every squeeze of his palm as he suckles at your nipples languidly, massaging and pinching at you as you try your best to keep your hips still.

but every lav of his tongue, every slow and mindless roll of it over your aching tits makes him twitch from where he’s buried in you but he’s too intoxicated, too enamoured by the way your walls squeeze with every swipe of his muscle against you.

“fuck, bunny. look so pretty, keep still for me. kay?” it almost hurts how tight your fingers are digging into reo’s shoulders with your sweet little uh huh, followed by another dreamy whimper as he suckles kisses from one breast to the next. his cheeks and chin are slick with his own spit from every sloppy press of his lips against you, and it feels so fucking good despite the way his cock still hasn’t moved inside of you.

a shaky sound breaks from his lips when you let your head roll back, your hands smoothing through his hair before the pull at the roots and he feels like he could fucking cum right there and then. you feel fucking boneless above him, melting with every greedy palm and press of his lips and hands.

“that’s it, bunny. wanna see how much you need me first.”

© 2023 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[77gigabytes]

Mini-me {Love and Deepspace boys}

I can't stop imagining the LADS boys with kids. Mainly because of the "Plushies I gave her; plushies she gave me" trend. I CAN'T, I CANNOT, I DO NOT HAVE THE ABILITY TO CAN XD

Enjoy!

-Seven

|| Masterlist ||

Rafayel ❖· ────── · ·

Rafayel is as much of a child as he is a man

I think that Rafayel would have a son.

Right now, the two of you aren’t planning for another child, but Rafayel wouldn’t say no XD

Rafayel would be super fun and silly with your son

He would be overly dramatic when your son presents a new drawing of craft to him

“Here, papa,” Your son presents a painting of the ocean to Rafayel, “I tried the oil paints this time.”

With a hand at his chest, Rafayel does a big gasp, “What a masterpiece!”

Your son giggles

“I should present this at my next art exhibit!”

Please, as much as he exaggerates his reactions, he would have those painting and trinkets buried with him - that’s how much he loves your son

I imagine that one day as you’re cooking, they’re in the living room and Rafayel has your son’s hand enveloped in his own, guiding him as he paints.

It reminds you of that time in his studio in Greensprings after you promised to see the lanterns together

“What should we add next, kiddo?”

“Hmmm.” Your son taps the paintbrush on his chin, “What about some birds?”

“Heh, like the ones that stole your chips the other day?”

“It wasn’t the birds! It was you, papa!” he jabs the paintbrush at Rafayel’s chest

Rafayel lifts his hands up in surrender, “What do you mean? I’m innocent.” He chuckles as your son pouts at him

More often than not, the two of them are covered in paint, or whatever art supply they used. It ends up to be a whole load of washing for you >:(

Your son definitely loves the ocean just as much as his father.

When you were pregnant with him, he would kick in your belly whenever you were swimming or submerged in water.

As a toddler, he would kick his legs and squeal every time the waves washed over him

Rafayel would have his hands under your son’s arms, stabilising him so that the waves wouldn’t push him over

Now at six years old, he’s diving under, collecting shells and chasing fish,“Momma, look at this shell.” He lifts his small palm carrying a pink shell, his pearly whites beaming up at you as he smiled, “You can have it, momma, orrrrr, maybe I can make it into a paint with papa later.”

It’s late afternoon and your son is knocked out on the couch from spending the entire morning at the beach.

You and Rafayel get started on dinner

Rafayel comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Huh?” You pinch your brows and chuckle a little as he nuzzles your neck, “What for?”

He takes a deep breath, “I don’t know, just… For our son, for being my wife, I’m just happy, I guess.”

You chuckle lightly, “I’m happy too.” You turn around and pinch his cheek, “A little jealous that he takes after you so much, but happy.” you offer a bright smile.

Before Rafayel can lean in, his arms are jerked away from your waist

Your son is pulling at Rafayel’s arms, “No, papa! Momma is mine!” He’s leaning all the way back, using his entire weight as leverage to pry Rafayel’s body from yours, “Go away, papa!”

Rafayel scoffs, “Yours?” He raises an eyebrow, “Tsk.” He clicks his tongue and hauls your son over his shoulder, Your momma was mine first, you jellyfish!”

Rafayel's fingers jab at your son's sides, and the sound of your son’s laughter fills the kitchen “Hahaha, pa—haha-papa! Stop!” He’s got tears in his eyes but the biggest smile on his face.

“Nope!” Rafayel pops the ‘p’ and continues to tickle him, “I gotta show you who’s the big fish in this tank, pipsqueak.”

You shake your head and put an hand at your hip, the other one pointing the spatula at them, “Alright, enough, or both of you aren’t getting dinner.”

Sylus ❖· ────── · ·

Sylus has a daughter, a son, and another on the way!

He’d spoil them ROTTENNNNNN. I mean, he buys you dresses, gives you his black card to spend as much as you want, what more would he do for your children? Or rather, what wouldn’t he do for them?

He would definitely be the type to let your children learn how to do things on their own, even if they are clearly struggling. He lives by the ‘they’ll never learn if they don’t do it themselves.’ idea - he literally says "I prefer the cold and things that make me strong."

Although, he would yield after a little while when they’re clearly upset and wailing, but more often than not, with some gentle encouragement, he’d get them to figure out how to do it themselves - climbing thing, opening boxed, pulling out chairs, etc.

It gets a little troublesome since they become explorative - he often has to use his Evol to reign them back in. Although, the children squeal in delight when they’re lifted into the air and land in their father’s arms.

Mephisto is surprisingly gentle with your little ones, keeping his claws and beak out of range because it could hurt them, but also because they wouldn’t hesitate to grab it XD

Luke and Kieran are often on babysitting duty so that you and Sylus can go out - Honestly, this is why you have another baby on the way. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Sylus would totally hum to your belly, always off-tune, but he definitely would.

ANYWAY

Today, you’re out on an errand and your baby boy is absolutely crying to bits so Sylus and your daughter are trying their best to calm him down

Sylus has your daughter on his shoulders as he changes your son’s diaper. Your daughter has her hands in his hair as she makes silly faces down at her brother to try and distract him from crying.

By the time you come home, it’s quite late and you find that they are all sprawled out in the middle of the living room floor, toys scattered about and a kids show playing in the background.

Your son is splayed out on Sylus chest while your daughter is on her stomach, across Sylus’ stomach XD

You chuckle a lightly at their positioning

The lack of sleep must have finally caught up to Sylus, huh? You think

As you come closer you realise that your son is awake - he’s cooing with a fist in his mouth, drooling all over Sylus’ shoulder.

With a little difficulty, you kneel down onto the floor to slip your son out from Sylus’ arms. Slow and steady… The last few times you’ve tried, Sylus’ eyes would snap open, on high alert -because who would dare try to take his precious angels.

Anyways, you decided that Sylus probably needs the sleep, especially since you’re pregnant again, he’s been so on edge

You cradle your son in one arm, and with the other, you run your hand through Sylus’ hair - which he subconsciously leans into.

Then, you lean down to place a light kiss on your daughter’s cheek, although leaning down has become a challenge in itself with your growing belly.

With the support of a nearby armchair, you stand yourself up.

You make your way over to the cushioned rocking chair in the corner of the room, cradling your son to your chest to feed him.

Just as he finishes, your daughter’s slowly sits up from where she was laying. She rubs at her eyes and blinks sleepily - a vibrant red, like her father’s, peeking through.

She looks around the room and gasps in delight when her eyes land on you, “Mama!”

She takes a few steps to you and then stops midway to look back at her father. She hurriedly grabs the throw blanket from the armchair and throws it across her father, uncaring of whether it covered him properly or not.

“Hi, mama.” She greets you as she climbs to sit in your lap

“Hi, sweetie.” You gently caress her face, “How was your day?”

“Mmm…” She quirks her lips, “Well, little bubba was crying a lot, like, a lot, a lot.”

You chuckle as she spreads her arms all the way apart.

“But I missed you." She nuzzles into your shoulder, "Daddy did too, he kept looking at the clock.”

Hehe, ever the observant girl your daughter was.

“Aww, I missed you, and daddy, and bubba as well.” You press little pecks to her face and nuzzle your nose with hers to which she giggles. Like tinkling bells in the wind.

Zayne ❖· ────── · ·

I feel like Zayne would have a son and a daughter. Your son would be quite a few years older than her though

Some days, Zayne would take them to work, subtly showing them off to his colleagues

Greyson never misses the opportunity to pinch their cheeks and ruffle their hair, “They both look like a mini Dr. Zayne."

Zayne may have all those awards and trophies lining his office walls, but his pride and joy will always be his children

He may not outwardly express it, but he absolutely cherishes them - reading them bedtime stories, tucking them in with the lightest kiss upon their foreheads

I imagine your son would be very studious, having read most of the books occupying the shelves of Zayne’s office. He would be quite curious, exploring the hospital and asking the doctors all sorts of questions that they themselves do not even have the answers to.

He would be your little gentleman, learning from his father, pulling out chairs and opening doors.

Your daughter would probably be a little shy, always having a fist clenched on her daddy’s clothes or holding onto his hands, or rather his fingers.

Her big brother wouldn’t hesitate to get her whatever she wanted or take her wherever she wishes - your family’s little princess

As much of a workaholic Zayne is, and as much as he wants to provide for you and your little family, he would have no problems lessening his hours to spend time with you and the children

It doesn’t matter how tired he is from a long day of endless surgeries, he would just as eagerly play with them in the living room

“Here, Dad, have a turn.”

“What is it?” Zayne removes his coat and drapes it over the couch’s armrest.

“Uncle Greyson bought it for us.” Your son leads Zayne over to the living room table.

“Uncle Greyson, huh?”

Your son brushes over the comment and continues to explain the little toy, “You have to take these plastic organs and bacteria out without touching the edges or else it beeps and his nose flashes a red light.”

Ever the steady-handed surgeon, Zayne takes them all out without a problem.

“Daddy,” your daughter clutches at the fabric of Zayne’s dress shirt. “I want to try.”

Zayne beckons her over to stand in front of him where he can support her little hands holding the plastic forceps

On the off chance that you are not with them, Zayne would get them sweet treats on the way home

“It’ll be our little secret.” Zayne whispers, with a finger pressed to his lips

your son and daughter giggle in their seats and happily gobble up spoonfuls of the dessert

It isn’t long before they all start having toothaches and receive a scolding from you

On family vacations, you all end up in a cabin up in the mountains of Snowcrest (at the request of your sweet little angels)

Zayne is more than happy to teach them how to snowboard,

Much to your surprise, as your daughter grew older, you found that she was quite proficient in snowboarding

But there used to be times where Zayne made them little tiaras and crowns of ice and built little ice castle with them using his Evol

Xavier ❖· ────── · ·

Sleeps as much as your newborn son, if not more, and your eldest son has inherited his father’s incredible appetite.

When you’re not at home, Xavier nearly burns the house down trying to make food for them, so once your son was old enough, he opted to learn how to cook - having his father as an assistant because, you know… they need supervision or something XD

Xavier would definitely read them bed time stories

His voice is so soft and mellow, they would fall asleep so quickly

Not much of a surprise considering that Xavier falls asleep at the drop of a hat

But on days when they have nightmares, Xavier would use his Evol to create little bunnies and flowers that float around in their bedroom

and when sleep finally overtook them, he would tuck their blankets around them and whisper,

“Sweet dreams, my little starlight.”

Most days, in your lounge, your younger son would be crawling all over Xavier as he laid on the floor.

“Arghh, the monster’s got me.” he would jokingly say.

Your older son would then come in with a cardboard sword, gently tapping his little brother on the back to slay the monster

Xavier cradles the young one in his arms, “And the hero has saved the day once again!” He lifts the infant up into the air and receives a toothless smile.

“Just like you and mommy!” Your son beams down at Xavier, sword and shield still poised, “You keep us safe from all the wanderers, right? I wanna be just like you and mommy.”

Xavier just smiles - the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes, “Well, we better start training, huh?” Xavier ruffles your son’s hair.

Although he may not be as well-off as Sylus, he definitely would do his best to spoil them, bringing them to amusement parks, buying them little star lamps for their bedrooms, taking them to the arcade and playing kitty cards with them.

One time, you all went on a holiday to this guest house in the forest. When you asked him how he knew about this place he replied with:

“I befriended the uncle that runs this guesthouse while I went fishing that one time.”

Xavier would take them hiking, showing your sons the most scenic views in the forest

when night time came, all four of you were laying down on a blanket, gazing at the stars

Today, he’s taken you to a cherry blossom park. He’s got your eldest son on his shoulders, and your little one in a baby carrier at his front.

Your eldest son is reaching up trying to grasp at the pink petals some of which fall onto your youngest’s head.

Xavier quickly lets go of your hand, which he was holding, to brush them out of your baby’s face. (he’s using the other one to stabilise your son’s leg over his shoulder)

Just as quickly, he grasps your hand once more.

You squeeze his hand lightly, “Let me take the carrier from you, Xavier.”

“No, it’s okay.” He quickly refuses, “I want to carry them both. It won’t be long before they’ll be too big to do so.”

AHHHHAAA, I'm finally finished with exams, so I'll be able to write more often. Yahooooo ~(˘▾˘~)

But brooooo, the Lads with KIDSSSSS I CAN DIE HAPPY

-Seven

|| Masterlist ||

[arc-misadventures]

I don't know why, but I'm enjoying the thought of Coco and Jaune being bros.

99% Lesbian

Blake: Coco!

Yang: Hey, Coco!

Coco: Yes?

Blake: We need your help

Coco: My help? Well, first off: Stop wearing all black. Add more colour to you apparel; I recommend purples, golds, and perhaps some deep blues. I think those colours would really make you 'pop!' Otherwise you look like a poorly dressed goth girl hipster. And no, you do not look like a goth girl the way you are dressed, and most certainly a sexy goth girl.

Blake: That's not 1hat...

Yang: No. No, take notes you could use a make over.

Blake: Hey!

Yang: But, no this isn't fashion related!

Coco: It isn't? Then what the hell do you two want help with me, you utter fashion slobs!

Blake: Hey!

Yang: I know it's true that, Blake dresses like a slob!

Blake: Hey?!

Yang: But, does that include me too?

Coco: Only two people in this entire school have any sense of woman's fashion, and neither of them are you.

Yang: Who?!

Blake: Yeah, who?!

Coco: Jaune Arc.

Blake: Jaune?

Yang: Him, really?

Coco: He has seven sisters, he knows plenty about woman's fashion.

Blake: So you say...

Yang: Who's the other person?

Coco: Glynda Goodwitch.

BY: ...

Blake: I'm not going to argue against that.

Yang: She's drop dead gorgeous, what else do we need to say?

Coco: So, what do you need help with?

Yang: We need to help settle a bet.

Coco: A bet?

Yang: Yeah, Ruby said you weren't gay, and that you were in fact, bisexual. We called bullshit, she said it was true, so we made a bet on whether or, not you are actually gay.

Blake: So, are you bisexual?

Coco: No I'm not bisexual.

Blake: Ha!

Yang: I knew it!

Coco: But, I'm not... 100% a lesbian.

Blake: Eh?

Yang: Beg pardon?

Coco: I'm 99% lesbian, but I am 1%... straight...

Blake: You're 1% straight...?

Yang: So... you are bisexual?

Coco: No... I love woman 99% of the time. But, 1% of the time... I'm straight... exclusively for, Jaune...

BY: For, Jaune?!

Coco: For, Jaune.

Yang: How are you attracted to, Jaune? He's... he's...

Blake: He's, Jaune!

Yang: I was going to say a guy, but that's true.

Coco: Gods, does everyone have to pick on my, 'If I had to pick a dude?' He's a great guy, a bit of a goofball sure, and a dunce. But, he is a really nice guy once you get to know him.

Blake: And, because you know, Jaune so well he becomes the 1%?

Coco: Well, there's also the fact that he is the only person I can discuss fashion with; he has great taste, and has even convinced me to wear a helmet as part of my fashion assemble. I just started to enjoy being around with him. So the intrusive thought of us... 'mingling' just popped up. So, I'm 99% a lesbian, and 1% straight for, Jaune.

Blake: Oh, that makes sense. Somehow...?

Yang: So... did we win the bet?

Blake: We didn't bet anything, so we could call it a draw if we wanted to. Right?

Coco: I'd call it a dra...

Jaune: Coco!

Coco: Hey, Bunny Boy, what's up?

Blake: Bunny boy?

Jaune: I found another helmet you could wear! Only this time if completely covers your head, which of course would make it that it doesn't go with your current outfits design. But, that does mean you have to choreograph an entire wardrobe to fit the helmet. Of which, honestly sounds fun to do on it's on.

Coco: Oh-ho-ho~! Really now? Okay, show me this helmet you're so confident about?

Jaune: Tada~!

Coco: ...

Coco: Holy shit...

Jaune: You like it?

Coco: This is a old helmet, so I would have a more detailed lion head, and mane. The colours would definitely involve more gold, maroon, and crimsons.

Jaune: Red, and caramel browns, with complementary cream whites?

Coco: Oh that sounds perfect! Colours aside, what would this outfit entail?

Jaune: Boot's that are at least knee height...

Coco: High heels?

Jaune: Oh, but of course. Next should... Hmmm... Oh no...

Coco: What is it?

Jaune: Nora pulled a, Nora again. I'm sorry I gotta go. Shall we continued this discussion later?

Coco: No problem, Love. Have fun~!

Jaune: See you later, Mocha!

Coco: Hmmm... Should the face mask be a copy of my face, or should it be a generic face?

BY: ...

Coco: ...

Coco: What?

Yang: 'No problem, Love?'

Blake: You sure it's just 1%?

Coco: ...

Coco: Maybe... 10%...?

Yang: Coco's bisexual, but only for, Jaune.

Blake: Agreed.

Coco: ...

Coco: That's fair...

[good-chimes]

Operational Log from the Government Institute for Ghost Supervision (G.I.G.S.):

AGENTS: “ImpulseSV”, “Skizzleman”, “Grian”, “GoodTimesWithScar”

SUPERVISOR: [Redacted]

[Impulse has submitted a request for ‘$2000’ for reason ‘Van’]

SUPERVISOR: Hi boys. Pleasure to be working with you. Can you give a better reason than ‘van’ for why you need two fucking thousand American dollars?

IMPULSE: Oh, sorry sir. We just need to replace some things in the van.

GRIAN: By which he means everything in the van.

SUPERVISOR: You lost ALL YOUR EQUIPMENT?

IMPULSE: You’re new, aren’t you, sir. Have you…met Scar?

SUPERVISOR: I have your personnel files. What does this have to do with Scar?

GRIAN: Oh, you’ll find out.

IMPULSE: Our last supervisor just sort of, uh, approved things. I’ve got receipts.

SKIZZ: We’re at the school, guys! Stop chatting and get in there!

IMPULSE: Gotta go!

[crackle]

GRIAN: Okay, so Scar, Impulse and Skizz are in the building. So far we’ve got the power turned on but no clues. There’s a spooky sort of bonfire in the main hall. Got skulls on it.

SCAR: I lit the bonfire!

GRIAN: Breaking news, Scar has lit the bonfire.

SUPERVISOR: Why did you light the bonfire!? You could draw the attention of a ghost!

GRIAN: Yeah, Skizz, why did you let Scar set something on fire? Pretty irresponsible.

SKIZZ: [noise of incoherent outrage] You try stopping him, buddy.

GRIAN: Can’t, I’m in the van. [further noise of outrage from Skizz]. Impulse is reporting EMF Level 5—didn’t anyone set up cameras? What kind of team doesn’t set up cameras? We’ve got a new supervisor to impress.

SUPERVISOR: Cameras should not be set up during a mission! You should have set them up in the daytime!

IMPULSE: We could use some cameras.

SKIZZ: GRIAN, YOU GET IN HERE, BUDDY.

GRIAN: Okay, okay, fine! I’ll get the cameras.

SUPERVISOR: Why are you risking the whole team in the building at the same—

[Scar has submitted request for ‘$5’ for reason ‘glowsticks’]

SUPERVISOR: Why on god’s green earth do you need glowsticks!?

SKIZZ: Scar, those don’t do anything.

SCAR: They keeps you safe from ghosts!

SKIZZ: What, because they’re too cool for raves?

SCAR: I want glowsticks or I’m resigning.

SUPERVISOR: You can’t resign in the middle of mission!

IMPULSE: Haunt! Everyone quiet!

SUPERVISOR: Wait, a real haunt? That’s highly dangerous! Get out!

[crackle]

IMPULSE: False alarm, that noise was Skizz and Scar frying hot dogs.

[Scar has submitted request for ‘$1’ for reason ‘needs salt’]

SUPERVISOR: Not approved! You’re not supposed to fry hotdogs on an eldritch bonfire!

SKIZZ: We were hungry!

GRIAN: Wait, you guys have hotdogs in there? I’m coming in.

IMPULSE: Oh, wait—wait—yep, there’s the haunt.

[crackle]

GRIAN: Well, Scar’s dead.

SUPERVISOR: Oh god! What!

IMPULSE: I was wondering why they didn’t get attacked. Just a slow ghost, I guess.

SUPERVISOR: An agent is dead and you’re joking!?

GRIAN: Oh, he’ll be fine.

SKIZZ: I got some tarot cards here.

SUPERVISOR: Don’t touch the cursed items! Find your colleague’s body!

[crackle]

SCAR: I hate all of you. You left me to die.

SUPERVISOR: What? Just a goddamn minute. That was a joke? Agent Scar is alive?

IMPULSE: Scar, buddy, cheer up.

SCAR: Grian shut a door in my face!

SUPERVISOR: One agent impeded another’s investigation?

SCAR: Yeah! I was impuded!

GRIAN: What! How is this my fault! A ghost was coming at me and I shut a door!

SCAR: And killed me!

GRIAN: That sounds like a you problem.

SCAR: Sir, I want to file a complaint. About Grian.

SUPERVISOR: Well, put in a placeholder and we’ll—

[Scar has submitted file ‘grain Complaint’]

[Grian has submitted file ‘Grian’s Official Resignation Letter’]

SUPERVISOR: Boys, this sounds like it’s gotten heated, let’s take it offline. Agent Scar, we’ll look into this later. Agent Grian, put your resignation on hold.

IMPULSE: They do this a lot.

SKIZZ: It’s affection. You love each other.

SCAR: I love Grian not murdering me.

GRIAN: I love Scar saving me some hot dogs. Oh wait, he didn’t.

SKIZZ: C’mon, fellas, where’s this ghost?

IMPULSE: We gotta use some of these cursed items.

GRIAN: I vote Scar looks in the haunted mirror. Anyone else want to volunteer? No? See, vote carried.

[Scar has submitted file ‘Im Resigning’]

[Grian has submitted file ‘I’m Resigning HARDER’]

[Scar has submitted file ‘No your not’]

[Last 3 requests have been denied]

SUPERVISOR: How on earth do you work with them?

[Grian has submitted file ‘Turbo Resignation Letter’]

IMPULSE: Oh, me and Skizz have got a knack for it, sir. You just have to let them work it out. Or shut one of them up for the ghost to get.

[Last 1 request has been denied]

SUPERVISOR: Boys, this is sounding like a really dangerous situation and I think you should get out of there. I’m calling a retreat.

SKIZZ: Gimme the mirror, I’ll try saying the ghost’s name.

SUPERVISOR: Did you hear me? Is this thing on? Saying the name is EXPLICITLY the one thing that is unsafe to do on missions!

GRIAN: Huh. Maybe we should have read the manual.

SKIZZ: Just let me do it, sir, we get results.  

SUPERVISOR: Are you four always like this?

IMPULSE: Oh, no. Usually these missions go much worse.

SUPERVISOR: No! No, nobody is looking in any cursed mirrors! I have eighty successful mission supervisions under my belt—

SCAR: Sounds uncomfortable.

SUPERVISOR: Our department has a clean record of no agent deaths—

GRIAN: Oh damn, I knew I should have submitted our reports.

SUPERVISOR: And I—What reports?

IMPULSE: Don’t tell him about the reports!

SUPERVISOR: Is this data right? You haven’t sent in a report in… five YEARS?

GRIAN: One thing and another, you know.

SUPERVISOR: No! Enough! You are the WORST team I have ever worked with and every practice you have is UNSAFE and I bet one of you is looking in the cursed mirror RIGHT NOW—

[crackle]

[crackle]

GRIAN: Scar’s dead again.

SUPERVISOR: [calming breath] Okay, you lot clearly have your jokes, like last time, but I need you to know that’s not funny.

GRIAN: I can get a picture of how he ragdolled. His head’s on backwards. It’s hilarious.

[Grian has submitted photo file lol.jpg]

SUPERVISOR: … That … that is a man who has been killed by a malevolent spirit! That spirit is deadly!

SKIZZ: Funny, the ones they send us on are always deadly.

IMPULSE: Get him back to the van.

SUPERVISOR: LEAVE IMMEDIATELY! I AM CALLING AN AMBULANCE!

IMPULSE: You don’t need to do that—

GRIAN: Hey! Dots! I just saw dots!

SKIZZ: Yes! Mark off dots!

IMPULSE: Sweet, we’ve got it! It’s a White Lady! Let’s go, guys!

SUPERVISOR: Is anyone listening? Is anyone listening to me?

[crackle]

SUPERVISOR: Come in. Come in.

SUPERVISOR: I know you’re driving back. Answer your goddamn radio.

SCAR: Well, hello there.

SUPERVISOR: This is very serious. I have to report Agent Scar’s death—Agent Scar? Is that you?

SCAR: The one, the only!

SUPERVISOR: You were dead!

SCAR: Oh, yeah, but then they brought me into the van and we left.

SUPERVISOR: How—what—

SCAR: I dunno, ask Impulse! I’m usually dead by this point.

SUPERVISOR: Agent Impulse! How!

IMPULSE: Me and Skizz have been doing this a long time, sir. Guess we’ve just got a knack.

SUPERVISOR: A knack for—a knack for—I’m going to get a drink.

SCAR: Toast our great success. Hey, hey, Grian, that’s my hot dog. I died for that hot dog!

GRIAN: You weren’t looking! Finder’s keepers!

IMPULSE: Careful of the wheel, guys, careful of the wheel—

SUPERVISOR: I’m never working with your team again!

SKIZZ: Yeah? I get ya, buddy. See you next week.

[0mg-bird]

Springsteen- J Seresin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jake hasn’t seen you since the two of you left for school, but as he stops into a hometown gas station, fourth of July weekend, he is met with a blast from the past.

Warnings: Fluff! Smut! Language and alcohol. Angst! 18+ content.

A/n: This was from the summer and I forgot about it haha, sorry yall. Anyway, enjoy this fourth of July Jake imagine.

The Texas sun was brighter than ever as Jake helped his brother, Sean, hang the extravagantly large flag from the top story balcony.

“Why’s Mom always gotta be over the top.” Sean grunts, holding his side of the heavy flag up while trying to zip tie it to the balcony post.

Jake tugs the flag tight. “Because it’s Mom, she wants to celebrate all her kids being home on ‘the greatest day of the year besides Jesus’s birthday.’ Her words, not mine.”

As the two finish up and head down stairs, they hear the hustle and bustle of their mother ordering Lindsey and Kylie, the younger Seresin sisters, around, making sure they are helping get things ready for the barbecue happening later on.

“Ah, Jake.” DeAnn, the beaming mother comes over to her son. “Have I told you how happy I am that you’re here?”

Jake smiles. “About a dozen times, Mom.”

Lindsey scoffs. “I’m home too.”

Kylie looks at her little sister. “Yeah, well we don’t serve America so we don’t matter.” She jokes, eating out of the large fruit bowl.

DeAnn turns to the girls. “Oh you two stop, I see you a lot more than Jake.” Then her hand rests on her son’s shoulder. “Jake, go get some more ice, will you?”

The girls start to laugh, through a mouth full of watermelon, Kylie slurs. “Go on, errand boy. Your active service days aren’t over after all.”

He shoots her a look. “You’re making a mess, Mom, she’s making your counters all sticky.”

Their mother turns with a gasp. “Kylie May.” She calls, and while she forces the girl to clean up her mess, Jake leaves the kitchen.

Passing his father who sits in his recliner chair, he pauses. “I’m going to the store, need anything, old man?”

John shakes his head no, moving his attention back to the television.

Jake nods, trying not to chuckle at the lack of words the man expresses.

The old pick up rolls down the roads, Jake’s arm hangs out the window, his head bopping to the rhythm of the country song on the radio.

Pine Station was a one stop shop for someone who didn’t want to go all the way into the busy town just for a bag of ice.

The place hasn’t changed, in fact it was in need of a paint job.

He pulls into the gas station, and his truck door clanks shut as he slams it closed. He hangs his Ray Ban glasses on his shirt collar, then steps into the air conditioning.

A face he does not know greets him from the register, he gives a friendly nod then makes his way to the freezers in the very back. The isles are free of any other customers, but they haven’t been rearranged in years. He’s trying to remember the last time he stepped inside when a Bruce Springsteen song comes on over the dusty radio in the corner. ‘Dancing In The Dark’ was one of his favorites, he feels a grin grow on his lips.

Pulling one of the glass freezer doors open, he grabs a bag of ice, then makes his way down the ‘essentials’ isle.

He’s not really paying attention, truthfully his focus is on the nostalgic song. That’s why when he passes a woman, he doesn’t register the fact that she’s no stranger.

You head is hung as you look at different sun screens, looking at which one is for sensitive skin. Jake pauses about eight feet from you, his brows drawing together in confusion. Your bright eyes glance up once you notice the body standing there, but they are casted back down again quickly.

Jake physically rubs his eyes, making sure he’s not imagining it.

Not his imagination, you’re standing right in front of him. Sunglasses are pushed onto your head, hair is a wavy mess that hits the bottom of your shoulder blades. Your skin is tan, contrasting against your see through, white, tank top. A bright red bikini is shining through underneath, and a pair of cut off jean shorts are hugging your waist smoothly, cheap flip flops are on your pink manicured feet.

Something flips inside of him, he can’t believe it’s real.

His voice comes out an octave above a whisper, he doesn’t intend it to be, but that’s how it sounds as he says your name.

You pause, then lift your eyes once more, he sees them widen.

His voice is the same, maybe a little deeper but the way he whispers your name is the same.

You stand, star struck, looking him over.

“Jake.”

He takes in a deep breath. “Hi…I-I can’t believe…God, it’s really you.”

A light chuckle comes from him, it makes the corners of your mouth twitch up.

“You know, I never would have thought I’d run into you in Pine’s…on the 4th.”

God, your voice, he can’t believe he’s forgotten it.

“Why’s that?” He asks, adjusting the hold on the bag of ice.

You put a sunscreen bottle back on the shelf. “Because I didn’t think you’d ever be Mr. Hometown again.”

“I’m just here for the summer, actually and uh, well Mom needed ice so here I am.”

He watches the way you slowly nod, a sarcastic look on your face. “So you’re just Mr. Iceman.” You say.

“Hangman, actually.” He corrects, not considering that you might be confused.

“What?”

He pauses, remembering you haven’t spoken in well over ten years. “Hangman is my call sign…Iceman is someone else…never mind, it really doesn’t matter.”

“Oh yeah, the pilot thing. I assume that went well?”

Somehow, it hurt, the way you spoke about the life of his you weren’t apart of. He nods. “The academy went well, deployment was good every time. I actually am not active duty anymore.”

You feel happy for him, because the dream he spoke about as a teenager came true. “I’m glad things turned out in your favor, Jake.” You say, and you mean it.

“What about you?” It comes out rushed, like he’s afraid you’ll walk away. “How- how’d life turn out for you?”

You blow out a puff of air. “Graduated ‘bama.”

“Roll Tide, you traitor.” He jokes.

You roll your eyes.

“Anyway, graduated, got a job in Dallas as an addiction and recovery counselor. I got a house, got engaged-”

His heart stops, his eyes immediately drift to your left hand. There’s no ring.

“-got un-engaged, sold my house, and now I’m here.”

He nods in understanding, then looks to see the small girl who is approaching.

“You had a kid too?” He questions, eyeing the child who looks exactly like you.

“What?” You question, but the hand around your leg answers your question. Immediately you grin and lean down to pick up the five year old. “Did you find something you want?” You ask the curly haired kid.

She smiles and holds up a blow pop and a bag of crackers.

“Good choice.” You kiss her head, then turn back to Jake. “This is my niece, Billy, she’s Sara’s middle child.”

That makes more sense.

“How is your sister?” Jake asks, seeing the way Billy watches him with interest and confusion.

“Pregnant.” You huff. “She’s on her fourth kid, so she’s pretty much always pregnant.”

He remembers going to the wedding, he remembers the blue, maid of honor dress you wore. Even at seventeen, he was aware enough to know you were the most beautiful thing around. He remembers how you cried when your father crashed the party and had to be dragged out, he can still feel your head on his shoulder as he came to check on you.

That was a long time ago.

“Well, at least she’s happy.” He says, gently waving to the girl as she still eyes him.

“Yeah, she never stops smiling, it’s a little creepy.” You laugh, hoisting Billy further up your hip.

“Are…are you happy?” Jake pushes past the line of mild friendly conversation, but you don’t get weirded out, you simply nod.

“I’m happy, are you happy?”

“I am.”

“Good.”

A few breaths pass, then you grab the second bottle of sunscreen off the shelf. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Jake.” You say, turning away and making your way to the front register.

He’s quick to follow. You set Billy down so you can find your wallet. As you pay, Jake determines he can’t just let you slip through his fingers.

“What are you doing tonight?” He rushes out as you get a bag for your things. You turn to face him, scooting back so he can pay for his bag of ice.

“Well it’s the fourth so I’ll be at the boat docks, watching the fire works.” You tell him, grabbing Billy’s hand.

He thanks the cashier woman and drops his change into the fundraiser jar that sits on the counter. Then, he follows you out the door.

“You want to watch them with me? On the family boat?” He asks.

From the minivan, your sister, Sara, pulls her sunglasses down, making sure her eyes aren’t betraying her. No, you really were having a conversation with your old flame.

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea.” You admit, he immediately questions it.

“Why? We should catch up.”

You still shake your head. “A boat with your family? Jake, your Mama hates me.”

“No she doesn’t.” He tries to reason, but you give him a knowing look.

“She’s hated me since the first night you brought me over for dinner.” You say.

Well, you weren’t exactly lying, but that didn’t matter.

“Look, just meet me at eight at my house, we can ride over together. Okay?”

You sigh, looking at your feet. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ll think about it?” He questions.

“Yes, I’ll think about it.”

Then, you’re walking away to the powder blue minivan.

~~

Eight o’clock, then eight thirty and you were no where to be found. The mass of family and friends made the Seresin home a bustling place, but Jake sat in the backyard, disappointed.

When it was time to go to the lake, he drove in a contemplating silence.

Would it be another ten years before he sees you again?

The large boat is unloaded and as he helps everyone else on, he pauses before he can get on himself.

With the sun disappearing, it made your outline look defined in the last flecks of light. He stands there, looking at you.

“Is the invitation still good?” You ask, nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“The invitation will always be good.” He grins, then reaches for your hand.

It’s an awkward situation, coming into close proximity to a family you haven’t spoken to in years. After a few quick conversations to catch up, you and Jake are sat at the bow of the boat, watching as you’re driven to the middle of the lake.

Jake talks about different stories from his deployments, all the places he’s been. You listen intently, laughing along with him.

As he sips his beer, he shifts so he’s facing you fully. “So, am I allowed to ask about this almost wedding you had?”

You sigh, finishing your water. “I met a guy my senior year of college.”

“What was his name?” Jake questions, and for some reason, he has this low feeling of jealousy.

“David, he was an advanced engineer major.”

Jake hums.

He sounds like a douche bag already.

“We were together for almost five years, got engaged…then I found out he was sleeping with his best friend’s wife and talking to eight different girls online.”

“Jesus, that’s…I’m sorry.” He sighs, watching you shrug. “Yeah, well I found out because the wife told me to check his phone…I did. He was so angry, started throwing stuff, threw the biggest temper tantrum I’d ever seen. I kicked him out that night.” You tell the story with no emotion, Jake can tell it’s something you’ve already come to peace with.

“Life changes pretty fast sometimes.” You state, pulling your hair tie out so your messy hair falls down slowly.

“Tell me about it.” Jake sighs, finishing his drink.

The two of you are silent, listening to the soft music playing from somewhere behind you. Jake feels a wave of deja vu, this exact spot was where the two of you made the decision to go about your lives separately when it came time for school. And despite all the things talked about in the past hour, the things in life shared with one another that has happened since, he still feels like he knows you as well as he knows himself.

“Are you still a Springsteen enthusiast?” He asks just so he can watch you smile.

“Oh come on, you know I am…but not as much recently.” You say, leaning back on your elbows. “You know, I still can’t hear ‘I’m On Fire’ without thinking about the time your dad caught us in the hayloft.”

Jake laughs at the memory. “I still remember how hard my mom slapped me. I wasn’t allowed to see you for two weeks.”

“And yet you still snuck into my bedroom.” You point out, recalling how hot the two of you were for each other in your youth. You loved him with every ounce of your body, you gave him everything you had to give and the promises he had whispered to you were so perfect sounding. It’s hard to think that through all of the things you two went through, it still ended with two broken hearts.

As the fireworks burst above your heads, the sinking feeling you pushed through came wiring back, hitting you hard. What would life be like if he let you stick it out? What would the past decade or so be like if you two were still in love.

It’s silent, just ‘ooo’s and ‘ahhh’s as the bright lights cascade in the sky.

Jake looks over at you, seeing the way you watch with a peaceful yet solemn expression.

As the show ends and Jake insists on driving you home, you let thoughts consume you.

The low hum of the radio gives you something to focus on instead of feeling pathetic for revisiting old wounds. You swear you moved past it, you’re grown now, this feeling is something childish…but you know that throb in your chest.

All because he looked at you the same way he did at seventeen.

“Did I say something?” Jake finally asks, seeing how you only look out the window.

“No, no you’re…you’re perfect.” You sigh, biting your lower lip.

Despite the way your words make him fight a smile, his concern only grows.

“Well you’ve been oddly silent.” He reminds, and he doesn’t miss the way you wipe your eyes.

“I just…I just wish you would’ve let me wait for you.” You finally turn to him, eyes red.

“What do you mean?” He questions, pulling down the road to your sister’s house.

“When you left for the academy, I wish you would’ve let me wait for you, through all of it. I would’ve waited, I planned on waiting.”

He processes what words to say. “I wanted you to move on, we had a whole conversation about why we couldn’t wait for each other.”

The opening tune to ‘I’m on Fire’ comes through the speakers and you think you might just die.

“I know…I know. Sorry.” You huff.

When he pulls up to the dark house. “They’re not back yet?” He asks.

“They’re staying at the lake cabin.” You simply say, looking around the 4x4 truck before reaching for the door handle. “Thanks for the walk down memory lane. Good night, Jake.”

“Good night…” Jake says softly, watching you go.

No.

No, he wasn’t doing this.

The truck door slams shut as he rushes after you. By the time you get the front door unlocked, he’s standing in the doorway with you.

The pining feels like he’s in high school again, like he’s not a grown adult with maturity and experience and a whole life he’s lived without you.

You look up at him, breathless. He does the same.

“I don’t care that we’re not kids anymore, I don’t care that we’ve lived a whole life away from each other, and maybe this is just some false feeling I have but thinking about not seeing you again…I just…I-”

You can’t handle it. “I know, just kiss me.”

His eyes dart to your lips, his hand immediately cradling the side of your face, the other on your hip. Your eyes fall shut as he rushes his lips to yours, it’s as good as clean air. His body molds into yours, crowding your space until you’re shoved against the door. One hand gripping his shirt, the other braces behind you, flat against the door.

Jake was always a good kisser, but he’s grown now and though you’d prefer to not think about it, his growth of experience really does him justice. He’s kissed you as a boy plenty of times before. He’s never kissed you as a man.

By the time your knees are weak, he’s becoming more needy and passionate, going as far as you’ll let him go because it’s all his body wants to do.

You blindly reach for the door handle, making the two of you stumble inside. You’re kicking off your sandals, making him follow suit, your hands are in his hair, you’re pulling away only to lead him up the stairs to your bedroom. He slams the door shut, pulling your shirt off and tossing it to the ground before backing you up against the wall.

Your chest heaves, fingers pulling at his t shirt. “God bless the Navy for making you look like this.” You groan, eyeing his extremely well built frame. Jake laughs, his hands running down your backside before gripping your thighs. As you jump into his grip, your legs wrap around his waist. His large hands are against your back as he carries you to the bed, laying you down against the mattress.

Your jean shorts are pulled off, leaving you in just your bathing suit. As you sit up, you’re tugging at his swim trucks, but his strong grip is pulling your hands away.

“Hang on, are you sure about this?” He questions, looking deep into your eyes.

You nod. “Please, Jake.”

The whine of his name could have him finishing right then and there. With a strangled groan, he pushes you back against the pillows, tugging your bottoms off and hastily untying your top.

As a girl, you were pretty. As a woman, fuck, you were gorgeous.

He lays above you, his face burying in your neck, kissing you with such a heat that you squirm. As his hips roll against yours, the contact of his clothed lower half catches with your neediness, making you shiver.

As he moves his mouth to one of your breasts, you feel like you’re going to burst into flames. A hand travels down his toned abs and into his shorts, at the slightest touch of your hand, Jake is sucking in a breath.

“Fuck, baby, you need to slow down or I won’t last.” He says, choking on his words as he feels your grip around his hardening length.

“That’s okay.” You whisper. “We have all night.”

You’re perfect, you’re the perfect woman.

He kisses you in a smoldering heat again, distracting you enough to pull your hand away. He won’t be able to focus on what he wants to do if you keep stroking him like that.

His hand lightly sneaks down your stomach and he carefully caresses your core.

You gasp loudly, the slightest touch is a heavenly feeling to your sensitivity. His fingers slide back and forth between your folds, he’s grinning wildly at how wet all of this is making you.

He’s curious if you’d react the same way you used to when he entered two fingers inside you, stretching your walls.

You grip his hair and suck your bottom lip.

Yep, still the same.

As he pumps his fingers in and out, he only pulls away to run your wetness across your clit.

“Oh my god.” You whine, tightening your grip in his hair, making a shiver roll down his spine.

Slowly and with more applied pressure, he’s watching you come undone. “Jake wait, wait, if you don’t stop I’ll finish just like this.”

“Fine by me, sweetheart.” He grins like a devil.

The muscles of your abdomen contract, your staring at him with heavy and lustful eyes. You bring his head down, kissing him once more as you grow closer and closer to that snapping feeling. His tongue dances past your lips, your toes are curling into the sheets.

“Come on, I know you want to.” He mumbles against you. “Just give in for me, I want to see you cum.”

That voice, so deep and grown up now.

You whine against his mouth, your entire body tensing before the coil inside you snaps and your release floods you. Loud intakes of breath, Jake chuckles at the way your eyes flutter.

“Holy shit…that was good.” You pant after a solid moment of silence, leaning back up to kiss him. You slowly sit up, almost demanding his shorts come off before you lose your mind.

“I missed how needy you get.” He smirks, kissing the side of your head as you pull the draw strings apart and push him to sit. You pull the swim trunks down slowly, watching as his hard length comes to lay against his lower stomach. Your thighs clench at the thought of having it inside of you.

“I just missed you. I missed you so much and I didn’t even know it.” You pant.

He watches as you slowly fist him up and down again, though the blissful feeling makes his eyes shut and his head fall back slightly.

“Fuck.” He grunts.

In your nightstand drawer, there’s a condom that you honestly hadn’t been planning on using.

It has a use now.

His finger tips press into the flesh of your hips, there’s a furrow in his brow as he helps guid you down onto him. His body shudders at the initial feeling, his jaw going slack as he feels himself stretch you perfectly.

Soft whimpers come from your lips, your hands slide down his strong shoulders.

“Shh, I got you.” He whispers as you adjust. His hand comes up to gently brush your hair back, then he’s pressing his forehead to yours as you slowly grind your hips, testing the waters.

It’s a rhythm, almost like a heart beat, the way the two of you move together. His warm hands are running down your back, raising goose bumps. The room is filled with the sound of mixed grunts and breathes, it’s making you dizzy. His mouth on your neck doesn’t help, your fingers running through his hair is driving him crazy.

“That feel good?” He mutters into your skin.

You shudder, the feeling of him hitting that right place inside of you has your eyes rolling slightly.

“Yeah, fuck, Jake. It’s really good.”

It’s hot and it’s meaningful, and you’re dragging him close to his climax.

Mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue, it gets hungrier and needy and you want it all from him. He’s whispering, so are you, swearing things to each other like no time has passed, like he’s been fucking up into you this entire time.

When the finish comes, he’s got a hand tangled in your hair and the other threatening to bruise your waist, and you look at him with a smile.

It’s blood rushing and mind shaking and ultimately a loss of breath. You’re leaned into his neck as you ride it out, huffing with tears burning your eyes.

He’s so so gentle, but reassuring in telling you just how good it was.

Once upon a time, you were seventeen and so deep in love with a boy who broke your heart, even if he didn’t want to. You rode passenger seat in his old jeep, singing Bruce Springsteen to each other, taking the long way back to your home because the only place you wanted to be, was next to him.

Now, you’re in your bedroom, staring at the window while pressed into Jake’s side. The simple movement of your fingers running over his ribs makes him calm, or maybe it’s just the fact that you’re close by again.

“You wanna know a secret?” You ask, breaking the silence.

He hums, then tucks your hair behind your ear. “Always.”

You adjust slightly. “I never stopped thinking about you when I would hear a Springsteen song…after a while I had to stop listening all together because I couldn’t stop the urge to try and call you.”

Jake tightens his arm around you, his brows draw close together. “Sorry I ruined music for you.”

“You never ruined anything…” You say ghostly, though it’s obvious that there is one thing that was tarnished.

“I could have sworn that breaking up was the best decision.” He says, looking at the ceiling.

“It was, we wouldn’t be where we are if we stayed together, I do know that.”

It still hurts his heart. “I could’ve still had you.” Jakes sighs.

After a moment, listening to a few stray fireworks go off, you speak out.

“You have me now…”

A smile pulls on his lips.

Things were going to be just fine, they were going to be the way they should be, with Springsteen playing and you at his side.

[mufos-photo-album]

Sum Mufo lore below the cut vvv

My character playlist page for Mufo is coming along, though one big roadblock is that it needs background art! I've talked before about how I wanted to draw Mufo's home base someday, and I think just drawing a small portion of it for some background art would be a nice place to start. One thing I struggle with when it comes to backgrounds though, especially character-based ones, is making them feel lived in. Backgrounds I've drawn in the past often felt too clean to me, like no one is living there! Unfortunately I don't have the time right now to slap down some sketches to flesh out Mufo's room, but I can write about it to reference later, so here we go!

Mufo lives in the Vault of Knowledge, more specifically inside what can be thought of as a "storage closet". These storage areas resemble larger areas of the Vault, but are mainly used to store menial things like cleaning supplies, spells, and personal belongings. Mufo has part of a storage closet all to herself.

Her room is basically like an indoor tent. The "walls" are actually just pieces of cloth. It's convenient since she can enter and exit her room at any location, though at this point she has dedicated "door spots" — specific spots she decides she is allowed to walk through. Anything that isn't a door spot she treats as if its a regular wall and thus not normally walk through.

In terms of solid furniture (like, heavy stuff), Mufo might not have much. At the moment I definitely imagine she has a bed and maybe one or two bookshelves. Maybe she has a chair in there, to go with the shelves? Other furniture she has is mainly pillows and blankets, strewn across the floor so that many places in her room are comfy.

Currently debating if Mufo decorates at all. Like the stuff I listed before is mainly functional in nature. Maybe younger Mufo wouldn't have cared about decorating, but present day Mufo does since she has finally seen the outside world for herself and is insanely inspired. With that in mind, I gotta think about what Mufo decorates with. I definitely think if you showed Mufo some fairy lights it'd be OVER for her.

This might be one for the decoration category, but maybe Mufo keeps souvenirs from her journeys if she can pocket them.

Her room almost definitely has some memory lanterns and books lying around. This would have been especially true when she was younger (like the drawing above!), where such things were her only form of solitary entertainment. As she got older, she became better about returning memory lanterns and books to their rightful place in the Vault (though not all the time, hehe).

At the moment I don't imagine Piripu has a home, but if he were to crash anywhere, it'd be at Mufo's place. He probably does it often. With that in mind, Mufo's belongings probably got pushed around with Piripu becoming a pseudo-resident. Fortunately, he is a boy of few belongings... For now?

[tempting-andromeda]

Fuck it writing for rdr2 now

Nsfw headcanons

Warning: smut, knife play, somnophilia, power dynamic, spanking, hair pulling, bruises.

Characters

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Charles Smith, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy,Micah Bell, and Eagle Flies.

Arthur Morgan

He likes for sex to be intimate but he gets a rise out of things escalating. Like you two are in bed about to sleep but like 20 minutes later your legs are over his shoulders and he’s shushing you to stay quite.

He doesn’t force moments between you two he likes when it’s natural.

He laughs softly at you if you get too eager for him. He teases you and degrades you for it softly like “Really? This desperate for me? Guess I gotta give you a good time don’t I, Girl/boy.”

He likes to hear you talk during it even if it's just jumbled moans. He'll ask you questions like “That feel good?” and he likes a response but he doesn't force it (unless he's being rough then he'll stop moving and make you reply)

Sex is personal for him so he likes to make you feel good and sometimes he completely forgets about himself.

John Marston

He likes being in control but simultaneously he likes when you’re in control as well. He’s a complicated man.

He’s so fucking eager. Sometimes he forgets about foreplay but once he remembers he focuses on making you finish until you’re barely able to take him.

He’s real into dirty talk. He simply cannot shut up. He’s between your legs describing how you taste.

He has a high sex drive yet he cums quickly. He goes multiple rounds to make up for it though.

He’s so sensitive. He tries to pretend he’s not but after a while he starts begging you to bite his neck or use your mouth on him.

Dutch Van Der Linde

He likes a power dynamic. He likes being dominant and he doesn’t like that changing. If you try to top or be dominant he sees it as a challenge.

He’s into humiliating you but he doesn’t like bringing it out of the bedroom. He likes seeing you on your knees as he sits in a chair and he likes making you beg to suck him off.

He likes brats. He’s into the challenge and he likes making them submissive. It’s a huge thing for him if you act all bratty.

He likes to lightly smack you but doesn’t actually apply pressure unless he’s spanking you. Like if you back talk or something he grabs your face and uses a stern voice and after you say “yes sir” he lightly taps your face.

Really likes to stand back and admire you after he’s done with you. Looking at your panting frame and fucked out face. It makes him so proud. If he could he’d have a picture of it.

Charles Smith

He’s super into passionate slow sex. Pressing his forehead against your chest as he praises you but sometimes he can’t seem to hold himself back and he fucks like his life depends on it.

Like he’ll have your legs spread in a nearly humiliating way but he’s complimenting you the whole time, praising your very existence.

He likes when you wrap your legs around his waist. It makes him feel like you’re desperate for him as well and it drives him crazy.

He’s a munch. No doubt about it. Sometimes it’s the only thing he wants to do. He’ll lay in between your thighs like he’s starved.

Having sex with Charles is like experiencing a Hozier song first hand. At the end of every night with him you have absolutely no doubt he worships you.

Javier Escuella

He’s into knife play but he’s not entirely into drawing blood. He’s into cutting your clothes off of you. Like completely ignoring the buttons on your shirt and instead just running his blade along the buttons, snapping them off.

He’s real into hair pulling both ways. He likes fucking you from behind to pull your head back so he can kiss you and he likes when you pull his hair in missionary.

Possessive. No doubt about it. I feel it in my bones. He always asks you who you belong to before you cum and he gets a huge rise out of it. He makes your scream out his name at least once every time y’all have set.

He’s super into quickies. He likes to pull you away for a bit and absolutely destroy you and then go back to what you were doing and watch you struggle to pretend like nothing happened. It’s a huge turn on for himz

He likes to cum on you instead of in you. He’ll finish in your chest, back, stomach, face. He’s so into it. He likes knowing you’re a mess for him and you’re allowing him to do this to you.

Sean MacGuire

He’s huge on praise. He needs you to tell him he’s big and that no one makes you feel this way. It drives him crazy.

He’s super messy when he fucks. There’s something about it that makes him feel prideful that you’re a mess and he’s a mess.

He likes to humiliate you but in a different way from Dutch. Dutch does it for the power dynamic and he does it just because he likes the idea that he’s the only one allowed to do this to you.

He’s a head pusher but he always makes it up to you afterwards by making you pull his hair when he goes down on you.

He likes having sex in semi public places. It fills him with such adrenaline he’s trying to go again afterward.

Lenny Summers

Hes into handjobs. More than anything. If you put your hands in his pants he’s nearly crumbling that instant.

He likes when you go down on him randomly. Like he’s reading a book and suddenly he’s getting head or waking up to head? It’s so attractive to him.

He knows what you like and what you don’t like and his fingers are magical. Sometimes he tries to multitask and do something else while he fingers you but he ends up giving in and giving you all of his attention.

He’s real nervous at the idea of people catching you two so he just whispers a lot of praise in your ear. He feels horrible degrading you but he tries.

He moans at everything. Like if he goes down on you, he’s moaning the whole time. If he’s touching you he’s still moaning. It’s just attractive to know he’s doing something that arousing to you.

Kieran Duffy

He likes when you tell him what to do. He’s real clumsy most of the time and if you lead his hands and body and tell him what to do he’s determined not to fail.

His dirty talk is mostly him asking for reassurance like “am I doin’ good?” Or it’s just him worshiping you.

He whimpers and whines so easily it’s like he’s getting fucked. (Or he is) he gets real embarrassed afterwards but he doesn’t try to stop

He begs to touch you even if you’re not holding him back or telling him he can’t. His hands could even be on you and he’s begging to touch you.

He moans so loud when he cums. He always tries to cover his mouth to muffle it or he buried his face into you to prevent anyone from hearing.

Micah Bell

He’s rough. Real rough. A night with him probably ends with a few bruises and a sore body and he’s real smug about it too.

He likes watching you pleasure yourself. Sometimes he’ll touch himself as you do so and after you both finish he won’t touch you.

He loves edging you. Sometimes he pulls away right before your climax and wait for you to beg. Once he got up and nearly left just to see your reaction.

He likes shoving your face into the pillow as he fucks you from behind. It makes him feel dominant and like he’s in control.

His praise is really rare so he saves it for a special moment. He’ll have you hanging off the side of the bed as he bellows your back out and he makes sure you hear him when he speaks, grabbing you by the back of the neck just to whisper something like “look so pretty from back here, slut.”

Eagle Flies

Experimentalist to the core. He wants to try everything at least once. He thinks it’s a huge trust thing to experiment with intimacy.

He likes showing off his strength and stamina so he likes to lift you up to fuck you. He can last so many rounds too so by the end both of you are panting and tired.

He says “I love you” during sex. He feels so intimate to say it and he likes to make eye contact as he does it. He knows it’s cheesy but he likes to say “I love you” while he finishes

He likes to talk about your sexual fantasies and tries to recreate them as best as he can. He feels like he has to prove that he’s better than some fantasy and he never fails.

[ma1dita]

crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies

(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!” 

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long. 

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right… she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother. 

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated? 

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual. 

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head. 

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table…. You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime. 

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection. 

Devotion. 

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away. 

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not. 

But you two are just friends. 

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids… and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable… or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, Trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready for anything that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin. 

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh… I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience. 

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.  

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin. 

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.” 

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got Trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, Trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees.

Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stolls put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

 “Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places... That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way… I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon… but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart. 

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on.

When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

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[msschemmenti]

Blabbermouth Junior

Jennifer Jareau x Reader

Prompt: Reader is Henry’s Fifth Grade teacher and at his graduation he puts a little plan into action

JJ smiled softly as she smoothed the tiny gown over her son’s shoulders. She really couldn’t believe her first kid was heading to middle school. It felt like just yesterday a nurse had handed him over in a hospital room. Time flew, and she was honestly just so grateful to experience these moments with him. After ensuring the team wouldn’t have any cases this weekend, she and the team were all piling into the Elementary school gymnasium to watch one of their BAU kids move on to their next step.

“Oh Henry, you look so cute. I can’t believe you’re going to middle school. My baby.” JJ pouted as she smoothed her hands over the boy’s head. 

“Mom,” Henry whined but allowed his mom the freedom to fawn over her son. He looked around at his classmates a bit self-consciously but secretly loved having his mother there with him on such a big day. 

“Alright, friends! Let’s tell our families ‘see you later’ and start lining up.” A cheery voice called over the room, drawing everyone’s attention. JJ followed the sound of the voice and was shocked to see a young woman dressed in yellow at the end of the hallway. Her arms were extended toward the children in the hall and she had the kindest smile JJ had ever seen. All the other children hurried down the hallway toward the gym and as much as Henry wanted to follow, JJ’s hands had yet to leave his face. 

Garcia, who’d come to the back to snap pictures of her godson, studied JJ closely. She watched how the blondes eyes shifted from the woman’s face to her legs and quickly back. She definitely didn’t miss the way she was still holding Henry’s face either. With a knowing smirk she nudged JJ and looked down at Henry with a smile. “Hen, is that your teacher?” 

“Yeah, Ms. Y/Ln is the best.” Henry grinned up at Penelope before looking over his shoulder to the smiling teacher. 

“I bet so. Sweet, you’ve gotta stop staring at the cute teacher so the boy can go line up.” Garcia grinned, practically shoving JJ out of admiration. She scoffed indignantly before smoothing her hands over Henry’s hair one last time and letting him go. 

“I wasn’t staring at the cute teacher. I just can’t believe my baby is growing up.” JJ fumbled for words. Garcia rolled her eyes in disbelief but pinched Henry’s cheek affectionately. 

“Henry? You ready, bud?” Ms.Y/Ln asked as she sidled up to the three blondes left in the hallway. 

“Yes ma’am, if my mom is ready to let me go…” Henry teased causing JJ to roll her eyes and the other two women to laugh. 

“Awe, Henry be nice to your mom. Graduating fifth grade is a big deal. Pretty soon you’ll be off to college.” Ms. Y/Ln spoke pulling the graduation hat from her side on Henry’s head and allowing him to sprint down the hall toward the other students.. 

“Oh don’t remind me, I’m going to be even worse then.” JJ whined, placing her hand over her heart. 

“Let’s take it one day at a time sweet. I’ll take the emotional mother out to the gym so we can watch our little man walk the stage. So sorry for the hold up, Miss?” Garcia asked sweetly. 

“Oh where are my manners, I’m Ms. Y/Ln, Y/Fn Y/Ln.” The teacher smiled extending her hand briefly toward the tech analyst. 

“Penelope Garcia, the Godmother of all Godmothers. And this is Jennifer Jareau, Henry’s super mom.” 

“It’s great to meet you both. I’ve heard quite a bit about you Mrs. Jareau, Henry’s very fond of you.” Y/n smiled, sending JJ a wink. 

“Miss,” JJ corrected unconsciously. “And I can say the same about you. He’s been raving about you all year long, it’s really nice to finally put a face to a name.” 

Y/n smiled sweetly in thanks before looking to her watch for the time, “That warms my heart. We’re gonna get started in about a minute and I don’t want y’all to miss anything. I’ll remind Henry to smile real big when he walks.” 

“That would be great, come on Jayje I need to make sure Morgan got us good seats. Nice chatting with ya Teach!” Garcia called over her shoulder pulling JJ down the hall and toward the gym. JJ sent the teacher an apologetic smile before allowing Garcia to lead her to the ceremony. Both women squeezed through the other parents and family members to sit in their seats between the team. 

“There you guys are, what took so long?” Emily asked leaning over to look at the two women. 

“JJ was ogling Henry’s teacher.” Garcia answered. All heads turned to face the mother in a combination of shock and intrigue. 

“I was not ogling.” JJ protested. 

“Oh she so was. Just wait until you see her, you’ll all understand.” Garcia grinned as everyone chuckled at JJ’s expense. 

-

“Congratulations Henry!” Y/n smiled down at the boy as he rushed into the classroom. 

“Thank you Ms. Y/Ln.” Henry grinned up at the teacher. He’d always been pretty fond of his teacher. She really made the transition to fifth grade so easy for him and he was surely gonna miss her. 

“Are you excited to be going to middle school?” Y/n asked as she watched and waved at parents and children exiting the room.

“Yeah, I guess.” Henry answered. 

“You don’t sound too sure bud. What’s up?” Y/n asked squatting next to the the desk the boy was sitting on. 

“I’m just gonna miss having you as my teacher.” Henry confessed. 

“Well I get that kid, they probably won’t be as cool as me. But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I’ll have any students as cool as you either.” Y/n teased ruffling his blonde hair maternally. Henry grinned at the praise and kicked his feet from the desk. 

“There’s our graduate!” Morgan called entering into the classroom. The remaining children and parents turned to watch as the team of Profilers filed in with gifts. They all scooped up the young boy with congratulations flying around. Y/n slowly floated over to her desk to give the group some privacy. 

As the team fawned over Henry, JJ found herself searching for Ms. Y/Ln unconsciously. As subtle as she thought she was being, she knew she was caught when Emily siddled up next to her sporting a knowing smirk. “She is pretty cute. I see why you were ogling.” 

“Oh God, not you too.” JJ groaned turning away from the teacher. 

“I’m just saying, she’s no longer Henry’s teacher and from what I’ve heard– Henry is pretty fond of her as well. Wouldn’t hurt to at least talk to her.” Emily encouraged. 

Before JJ could even respond, Henry was at her feet with a smile on his face. “Mom can I give Ms. Y/Ln the gift I got her before we leave?” 

“Of course honey,” JJ smiled fishing the card and candy out of her purse and handing it to Henry. 

“I’ll be quick.” He promised and then made a beeline for the teacher’s desk. “Ms. Y/Ln, I got you this gift and just wanted to give it to you before I left.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in glee as she took the card and candy from one of her favorite students, “Oh Henry, that’s so sweet. Thank you so much and you remembered my favorite candy.”  

“Yeah my mom let me buy it.” Henry answered. By now JJ had turned her attention to the two and was making her way over to them slowly. 

“Well that’s very sweet of her.” Y/n said catching JJ’s movement in her peripheral. 

“She also thinks you’re cute.” Henry threw in causing both Y/n’s and JJ’s eyes to widen comically. JJ was so shocked she even stopped walking briefly. 

Y/n blushed and giggled, “Oh?” 

JJ jumped into action and placed her hands on Henry’s shoulders before he could continue speaking. JJ and Y/n’s eyes locked and the embarrassment was burning behind both of their eyes. “Henry…” JJ sighed with a grimace. She went to deny and save face but she could hear Emily’s voice in the back of her head. It was already out, what was the harm in at least talking to her? “Well, I’d hoped I could tell you myself but Henry seems to have beat me to it.”

“Someone had to say it.” Garcia piped in from the group now listening. 

“Shut up Garcia.” JJ grumbled. “Henry go hang with the team.” 

“Of course mom.” Henry grinned going over to stand with Penelope, who highfived him in triumph. 

“Well Ms. Jareau, I’m extremely flattered. Even if Henry told me first.” Y/n smiled and leaned her head on her fist. 

JJ blushed a bit and ducked her head, “God I love that kid.” 

“He is rather special. Oh and if it wasn’t clear, I find you pretty cute as well.” JJ’s head popped up in shock and the blush returned with a vengeance. Y/n grabbed a sticky note from her desk and scribbled her number down. “Summers here and from what I’ve heard you’re pretty busy. How bout you give me a call when your free? I’d love to get to know you a bit better.” 

The group of profilers very childishly whistles and ‘oooo’ at the interaction and JJ could only roll her eyes before accepting the number with a promise to use it. They all said their goodbyes and just as they were about to exit the school JJ pulled her son into her side. 

“You don’t mind any of that with Ms. Y/Ln right? Cause if you do I won’t–” Before she could finish Henry wrapped her arm around her waist. 

“Oh I’m excited. I thought of the plan before the graduation started but I didn’t know if it’d work.” Henry grinned. 

“God I love you kid.” JJ sighed  and pulled him toward the car. Middle School is not ready for her boy.