#he was endeared by her here and i was giggling about it like yes this is exactly what i want

[tender-rosiey]

hello, love! i hope you're doing great! i love reading your works and thank you so much for writing such beautiful pieces 🫶🏻

soooo... i was thinking of making a request! i'm not sure if you've written about this or not and please feel free to ignore it if you're uncomfortable with writing it or if you've already written it but here's the request:

satoru with newborn twin daughters 🥹

i noticed that there are almost no twin dad gojo fics and we already know that he's a girl dad. plus, i love your writing style. hence this thought. again, thank you so much for your hard work, rose! stay hydrated and have a great day! byeeee!

twin girls (and gojo ig) — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: i cant believe it took me like 7 months to finally post this; i am so sorry 🙏 BUT i am so so happy that you like my works and srsly thank you for your sweet words. they mean the world 🥹 hope that you like this as well! have a wonderful day!! 🫶🫶

the only thing worse than having one girl you can’t say no to is having two.

add to that the fact that satoru is already a softie when it comes to his daughters, and it’s a recipe for disaster—if you’re not there to intervene.

"papa, I want a dress!" one of your twins looks up at satoru with wide, sparkling eyes, her hands tugging at the hem of his shirt.

her sister quickly chimes in, her voice a little shyer but just as determined. "I-I want a dress too, papa!"

satoru crouches down to their level, hands on his knees as he looks between his two little girls, his white hair falling messily into his eyes.

“two dresses, huh?” his voice takes on a faux-serious tone. “what kind of dresses are we talking about?”

“sparkly!”

“twirly!”

“pink!”

“blue!”

their voices rise with excitement, and satoru’s grin only grows wider as he listens, nodding as though their demands are being carefully cataloged in his mind.

you can’t help but smile from the doorway, watching the scene unfold. his enthusiasm when it comes to them is both endearing and ridiculous.

"satoru," you call out, interrupting his train of thought. your arms are crossed, and a teasing smile plays on your lips. "we agreed they only need one dress each, remember?"

he turns toward you with a playful pout, the twins following his gaze.

“they’re my princesses, wifey! how can I deny them a little extra sparkle?” he says, completely unbothered by the parental negotiations you both agreed on just yesterday.

you raise an eyebrow, taking a few steps closer and placing a hand on his arm. “you’ll be sleeping on the couch if they come home with more than one each.”

satoru's expression shifts immediately, an exaggerated look of surrender plastered on his face as he straightens up, holding up his hands. "alright, alright. one dress each. promise."

later that evening, when you return home, your twin girls are twirling around in front of you in two dresses each—one sparkly, one twirly, naturally.

your gaze falls on satoru, who stands casually leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, whistling as if he’d done nothing wrong.

“satoru,” you pout, “I thought we had an agreement.”

he gives you a cheeky grin and a shrug, completely unbothered. “they were on sale,” he says as if that justifies everything.

the girls, oblivious to your exasperation, giggle and show off their new outfits, spinning around in excitement.

"mama, look! don't we look pretty?"

"yeah, mama! we look pretty, right?"

you press your lips into a thin line, but the fondness in your eyes betrays you. you sigh and ruffle their hair, "yes, very pretty, both of you."

the girls squeal in happiness and run around the house in their excitement. your husband nudges your arm gently with a teasing smile. you quirk an eyebrow before pushing him away with a chuckle.

you can never deny that you love seeing them so happy, even if it means satoru has bent the rules—again.

of course, life with your husband and your twin girls is a whirlwind. even bedtime is an adventure (read: a battle).

one night, the girls are bouncing off the walls in their matching pajamas, their giggles filling the room as they run circles around satoru, who’s sitting at the edge of the bed, utterly failing to get them under control.

"alright, time to settle down," he says, his tone light but lacking any real authority. the girls shake their heads as their dad is simply not cut out to be the strict parent in their eyes.

however, when he opens his arms, one of the girls takes the chance to climb his lap. his hand ruffles her hair, and she hums happily .

"papa, can we have three stories tonight?" the twin on his lap asks, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

her sister, not wanting to miss out, rushes over and clings to his other arm. "no! I want four stories!"

satoru sighs dramatically, glancing over at you for backup. you are sitting like the boss you are on the loveseat in the room. you look up when you feel your husband's eyes on you.

“they only get one story,” you remind him, trying not to laugh at his predicament.

satoru looks between the two girls, their wide eyes fixed on him. “alright, alright,” he finally concedes, holding up two fingers. “two stories. that’s my final offer.”

he hears you groan, and his heart breaks at disappointing you, but he can’t just say no to them. the twins cheer as if they’ve won a war, grabbing their favorite books from the bedside table.

it takes you a few moments before you smile helplessly as you watch him negotiate with them like it’s a high-stakes sorcery mission. it's not long before your daughters fall asleep. satoru's voice has always been comfort incarnate for them.

"you’re too soft," you tease as you walk over to him, pinching his nose—he yelps as quietly as he can, so you plant a soft kiss on his temple.

he leans into your touch for a moment, closing his eyes. "can’t help it," he mutters, "they’ve got your charm.”

afternoons are no less chaotic, especially at the park, where the twins drag satoru toward the swings, their little hands gripping his fingers as they bounce excitedly.

"papa, push me higher!" one demands, already settling onto the swing.

"me too! higher!" her sister echoes, scrambling onto the swing beside her.

satoru stands behind them, cracking his knuckles.

“higher, huh? I think I can manage that.” he gives the first swing a firm push, sending one of the twins soaring up, her laughter filling the air.

you sit on the third swing, smiling at the scene.

satoru looks over at you, his grin softening as his eyes meet yours. the way their laughter fills the atmosphere fills your heart, and you can tell that satoru feels the same.

at least, until he decides to push you and make you take full 360s on the swing.

“wow, mama is swinging!”

“in a circle!”

“satoru, I will kill you!!”

"waiting for that, wifey!"

dinner, as always, is an ongoing fight. tonight, the twins are in full protest mode against their vegetables.

"I don’t like broccoli," one twin pouts, pushing her plate away.

"me neither," her sister adds, crossing her arms as if this decision has been made final.

satoru, ever their ally in mischief, leans back in his chair, his expression far too relaxed. "well, I guess no one’s eating broccoli tonight," he says, clearly enjoying this little act of rebellion.

while you're proud of your girls backing each other up, you rather it not be right now. you shoot satoru a warning glance, shaking your head with a sigh. "they need to eat their veggies, satoru."

he shrugs, smirking lazily as he glances at the twins. “they’re gojo kids. I think they’ll survive without a little broccoli.”

the twins giggle, clearly siding with him. but you know how to play this game too; otherwise, you would have never been able to handle the man child beside you. “okay, fine,” you say with a sly smile. “no dessert if they don’t eat their veggies.”

the girls’ eyes go wide in horror, and they quickly turn to their father, their last hope. “papa, no! we want dessert!”

caught between you and the twins, satoru sighs dramatically, like he’s being asked to sacrifice everything.

“alright, alright, princesses,” he concedes, hands raised in defeat. “but you’ve gotta eat the broccoli if you want dessert. we gotta listen to mama.”

the twins reluctantly pick at their plates, eyeing the broccoli with disdain, but determined to make it to dessert.

you exchange a triumphant smile with satoru, who just rolls his eyes playfully.

and in the quieter moments, when the twins are asleep, and it’s just the two of you, he wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I don’t know how you do it,” he murmurs softly. “keeping us all in line.”

you smile, leaning into his touch, “someone’s gotta make sure we don’t end up with a house full of sparkly dresses.”

satoru laughs quietly, pulling you closer. “what can I say? I’m weak when it comes to you three.”

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do not copy or plagiarize

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[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.

[minwonsgirl]

cupcakes and kisses.

— mingyu x gn!reader

— fluff without plot and soooo self indulgent it's crazy

— contents : established relationship, kissing, sexual tension, kissing, suggestive content, kissing, baking, did I mention kissing

"Thank you for your purchase I hope you have a good night!" the cashier wishes while giving you your pack of rainbow sprinkles.

you smiled at her and walked out into the streets so that you could make yourself back home. the sun was just setting in, and people every where were rushing back. you were in no hurry though, your apartment was just down the block and your boyfriend was still busy whipping up some vanilla frosting.

thats why you came out in the first place, he was making cupcakes for movie night, but ran out of sprinkles for the funfetti frosting. and you, being his little minion helper, volunteered to get him some.

you were an amazing cook when it came to breakfast or brunch, but baking on the other hand, hah. baking was completely out of your expertise.

you once tried to make cookies, but they neither spread nor softened and came out as rocks. they were so inedible that even the ants wouldn't touch them. you remember getting rid of them by chucking them at your brother whenever he annoyed you.

when you finally reach your apartment, your boyfriend calls put your name, and you quickly change into your home slippers and run towards him.

"I'm here I'm here" you said, sprinting towards him with a large smile on your face. mingyu smiles back at you but doesn’t stop his mixer-blender-thing from working, "did you get the sprinkles?" he asked, his head tilting to the side in a very cute manner.

you raise the pack of sprinkles and wiggle it a little to show off your excitement. mingyu lifts one of his hands up, like a gate, and you immediately step inbetween them, successfully trapping yourself in his arms.

he turns the mixer-blender-thing off and plops his head on your shoulder, watching you tear off the packet with your teeth and pour a generous amount of sprinkles in the bowl.

mingyu had a habit. his friends would always tease him about it, but honestly he found it quite cute. It was not his fault he found everything you did so endearing that he just had to stare at you as if you were hanging the stars on the sky.

it was not his fault you were so pretty to look at, with your perfect lips and perfect eyes. or the way you looked the best when you were busy. it wasn't his fault.

you found that staring habit of his cute too. but that's probably because you did the exact same thing. but were you really to blame when everything mingyu did was absolutely perfect. especially when he baked, his concentration and attention to detail always made you proud. so it most definitely wasn't you fault either.

when you were done pouring out your sprinkles, you hummed contently and waited for him to start the blender again. but he doesn't move. you look up at him with a raised eyebrow, "something wrong, babe?" you asked, worry flashing in your eyes.

you expected him to come out of his trance, but he just shakes his head side to side, with the same look in his eyes. then he thinks for a moment before his lips moved into a tiny smile and he nods his head, "yes" he said, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

mingyu let's go of the hand blender and grabs your waist to turn you around to face him. you give him a curious look and he just winks at you. then he turns you both around and picks you up on the kitchen island behind him.

he buries his head in your neck and trails sweet kisses all the way up to your ear. you wrap one hand around his waist and the other around his neck, your fingers playing with his hair, and you giggled whenever his kisses would tickle you.

this was normal, mingyu always kissed you every chance he got. but he always bothered to make up a stupid excuse before it, which is exactly what lead you to ask, "why so touchy, baby?"

"need to kiss my pretty baby" he said casually, as if he did this every day (he did). you laughed and let him place strategic kisses in all the right places. your forehead, the space between eyebrows, both your cheeks, and every single mole on your face.

when he finally reached your lips, you cup his cheeks. he leaned in to ever so slightly brush your lips, he releases a breath and pulls away kissing the corner of you mouth instead, you feel your heart grip itself.

he pulls away and smirks when he sees the shiver, he caused, go down your spine. "so needy for my kisses, yeah?" he asked, a smug grin taking over his smile.

you hadn't realised that the tension had caused your hands to slips down to his chest and hold his favorite jumper in a fist. you pulled him closer towards you, "need you to kiss me gyu, please" you begged.

mingyu could never deny you, and he knew that you knew that and used it against him very often, but he still chuckles at your tactics and leans in you press his lips against your in a big fat kiss.

you wrap your legs around his waist and pull yourself closer towards the edge of the counter so that you could feel him better. you wouldn't let his pulls away from you that easily again.

mingyu smiles into the kiss when he feel your clutch on his jumper. he loved teasing you, but he loved this more. the way your possessiveness would peek out and you would be less reluctant to let him go.

mingyu lays his hands flats against the counter so that he could kiss you better, and feel you closer. you hands were crossed around his neck.

his mouth moved in perfect sync with yours and you were sure you could die like this, with him kissing you absolutely senseless.

he pulls away from you for a second and look down at your eyes, you were both panting. he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and leans back in— DING.

both of your heads turn towards the little potato shaped timer kept above the oven. "aw the cupcakes are done" mingyu said sadly, his lips forming a small pout. you rolled you eyes and pushed his hands off you. you cupped his cheeks and turned his head to look at you. "so why are you pouting?" you asked, laughing softly at his cute little sad face.

"wanna kiss you a little longer" he said, speaking in pout while trying to tuck himself back in between your legs. you made sure to keep them shut.

you press a small kiss on his cheek, "we'll kiss later I promise. for now lets finish those cupcakes, yeah? " you said while jumping off the counter and walking towards the oven to take out the cupcakes. you make sure to grab mingyu's hand on the way so that he would follow you.

mingyu takes the opportunity hug you from behind and follow you like a dumb puppy. he breaths in your hair and smiles againt your neck, "I love the way you smell" he said.

you snorted, "that's not creepy at all."

"hey I'm not creepy I just liked the way the love of my life smells okay?" he pouts again, this time angrily.

you laughed again and turned around in his arms to face him. "thank you baby" you said sincerely, then got on your tippy toes to kiss him, "I love you too" you said.

mingyu felt the butterflies in his stomach go crazy. he was pretty sure the cupcakes would burn if he didn't turn off the oven soon, but who cares? he was kissing the smartest, the most beautiful person alive. for him, it really was you who hung the stars in the sky.

[starclancy]

can I perhaps see a jealous monster trio?? I don’t know in what context, but I’d love to see it! 😌💖

YES. Ty for this amazing ask 💋💋💋 (ps i love when you guys say perhaps idk why but it makes me giggle)

~ Jelous Monster Trio ~

PAIRING: Fem!Reader/Jelous!MonsterTrio

CONTENTS: 💘 - jelousy

WORDCOUNT: 1506

Request status: Open

Luffy ~

You were sitting at the edge of the Thousand Sunny, dangling your feet over the water, chatting with Law. The two of you were discussing strategies for your upcoming journey, nothing particularly personal, but the energy between you and Law seemed... comfortable.

Luffy, perched atop the figurehead, watched the exchange with a frown. His signature grin was nowhere to be found.

“Oi, Y/N!” Luffy shouted, leaping down and landing with a thud beside you. “What’s taking so long? I’m bored!” His arms crossed, and his usual sunny demeanor was clouded.

“Oh, Luffy, we’re just planning,” you explained with a soft smile. “We’ll be done soon.”

But Luffy was already tugging at your arm. “Planning’s boring. Let’s go eat meat!” His voice was unusually loud, his eyes darting to Law as if challenging him.

Law smirked, clearly noticing the tension. “I don’t mind waiting if Captain Straw Hat needs her attention.”

“No! She’s my crew, so she doesn’t need to plan with you!” Luffy’s voice boomed, and he puffed his chest out. “Y/N’s my crewmate… my treasure!”

You blinked in surprise. Luffy rarely got possessive, but there was no mistaking his tone.

“Luffy,” you began, placing a hand on his arm. “You know you’re my captain, right? No one could replace you.”

At that, his grin returned, as wide as the Grand Line. He grabbed your hand, dragging you away. “Good! Now let’s eat before he tries to steal you!”

Law chuckled behind you, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. Luffy might have been a little clueless about jealousy, but his protectiveness was undeniably endearing.

Zoro ~

The weight room on the Sunny was bustling. You were spotting Usopp as he tried to bench press a moderate load, his face red with effort.

Zoro entered, his katana strapped to his side, intending to get in his evening workout. His sharp eyes immediately zeroed in on the scene. You were laughing, leaning close to Usopp to give him pointers, and it set Zoro’s jaw.

“Oi,” Zoro called out, his tone low but firm. “Usopp, aren’t you supposed to be working on your aim or something?”

Usopp looked up, startled. “Uh, yeah, but Y/N’s helping me build my upper body strength. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “He’s making great progress!”

Zoro’s frown deepened, and he crossed his arms. “Tch. You’re wasting your time. Strength like his isn’t gonna matter if he can’t dodge.”

“Hey, I’m right here!” Usopp protested, but Zoro’s intense gaze was locked on you.

“Y/N,” Zoro said, his voice softer, almost intimate, “come help me train instead. You know how to handle a sword better than him.”

There was no arguing with Zoro when he was like this. As you walked over to him, you caught the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. Zoro didn’t say much, but his actions spoke volumes. You were his, and he wasn’t about to share your attention.

Sanji ~

You were sitting in the Sunny’s galley with Franky, admiring one of his latest inventions. The two of you were leaning close, inspecting the mechanics, when Sanji walked in with a tray of freshly baked cookies.

“Y/N-swannnn~! I made these for you!” Sanji sang, but his eyes narrowed when he noticed how close you were to Franky.

“Oh, thanks, Sanji!” you said, reaching for a cookie, but Sanji held the tray just out of reach.

“Not so fast,” he said, his usual charm taking on an edge. “Franky, don’t you have some cola to replenish? This is a delicate moment between me and my darling Y/N.”

Franky raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Relax, curly-brow. We’re just talking.”

“Talking?” Sanji repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Forgive me if I find it hard to believe when you’re practically breathing down her neck!”

“Sanji!” you scolded, though you couldn’t suppress a laugh.

Sanji placed the tray down and knelt beside you, taking your hand dramatically. “Y/N, my sweet flower, don’t waste your brilliance on brutes who can’t appreciate you. I’ll make you something far more exciting than inventions—how about a dessert as divine as you?”

Franky rolled his eyes, leaving the galley with a chuckle, but Sanji stayed by your side for the rest of the evening, basking in your attention and ensuring no one else dared interrupt.

[finelinevogue]

under wraps

summary - you and andrew are on a talk show together & you are also in a secret relationship

word count - +1k

pairing - andrew garfield x actress!reader

🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿• 🍿

“Andrew, have you ever met Y/N?”

“I-um - yes! Briefly.”

“Where?”

Well that was a long question that would have to be answered with a lot of lies.

Going on chat shows where you and Andrew were both on at the same time were rare, but when it did happen it was very difficult to keep your relationship a kept secret.

You and Andrew had been dating for 7 months now and were doing well to keep it under wraps - which you both wanted to keep that way for as long as possible - but going on live chat shows was always a risk.

You’d both set up all your fake stories ages ago so that when you got asked questions like he’d just been asked, it would be okay.

“I believe - this is going to sound so douchey to say - but I believe it was at Paul McCartney’s birthday party last year?” Andrew looked to you for confirmation.

It was even harder to keep everything under-wraps on this chat show as you’d been placed next to each other on the chat sofa.

It was nice to be sat next to your boyfriend.

He smelt great and he was an immense comfort to you - as he is clearly a huge, global, mega-star whereas you are best-known for your role as a main character on a well-known British TV show.

It’s always a little nervy being sat next to the big names in the leagues, but Andrew always had a way of being the bridge and bringing everyone together.

“Oooh la-di-daaa!” Graham Norton - the host - teased. “Paul McCartney! You have gone up in the world.”

The audience and the rest of the celebrity guests laughed - including Florence Pugh, who was here to promote her new movie that also starred Andrew, Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, who were here to promote their new movie.

“Paul was also there.” Andrew pointed out, to which Paul nodded along.

“And Pedro?” Graham prompted.

“Oh, Paul McCartney doesn’t know who I am.” He said, which got a laugh from the audience. Once the audience had died down he spoke again, “But, Madonna however….”

After people had quietened down, Graham returned to asking questions.

“Y/N. You’ve got your new series of ‘The Lovely Life’ coming out.” Graham said.

Andrew started clapping immediately, prompting other people to start clapping with him and giving you a cheer or two.

You blushed slightly as you took note of the celebrities clapping for you, inching ever so closer to Andrew to try and hide the endearment.

“Brilliant show.” Andrew commented - as if he doesn’t tell you that every day you go to work and every other day of your life.

“Thanks.” You smile, giving him a few extra words of kindness with your eyes as you look at him lovingly.

“But it’s not really a show about lovely life, is it Y/N?” Graham asked.

“No, no it’s not.” You sighed.

“Have you seen it, Pedro?” Graham asked.

Pedro pushed his glasses up his nose a little and focuses his body to face you as he speaks, “No. I apologise, but no I haven’t.”

“That’s okay.” You smiled at him, feeling no untowards him.

Some of the audience gasp.

“Oh no.” Florence laughed.

“What? What did I just say?” Pedro looked alarmed, sending you into a giggling fit.

“You’ve just burned the hearts of the UK. Cancel culture will be coming for you.” Paul answered for his friend, patting him in the shoulder solemnly, making everyone laugh and you shake your head at how overdramatic it was.

“No, no!” You shook your head, not wanting to upset Pedro or anything even though it was all in jest.

“How dare you!” Andrew bellowed beside you, also sticking up for you and your programme as a joke.

You leaned back on the sofa, covering your face with your hands as you tried to let the couch swallow you whole.

Once everyone had calmed down again Graham returned to asking questions.

“Y/N, do you want to tell us a little bit about this new season?” He asked.

You crossed a leg over the other, making sure your flowy dress didn’t flash anyone as you did.

“I’m not sure how much I can say, but my character - Ruby - does not catch a break this season! She is back with her ex-boyfriend Jake but there’s also, maybe, potentially, someone new too. Obviously she still is in a lot of trouble from last season so we get to see a lot of that story brought over into this season too.”

“Do we find out if Ruby did kill her dad?” Florence asked, on the edge of her seat.

“To that I will say… The answer has already been revealed.”

That caused the audience and the celebrities to gasp. You giggled as you watched their faces - Andrew’s in particular because he’s constantly asking you questions like that but never gets an answer.

Andrew is super passionate about the work that you do and is constantly encouraging you to try new things and different types of acting. You wouldn’t be as confident as you were today had it not been for Andrew showing you how amazing you really are.

“I have no idea whether this show is streamed in America–.” Pedro said.

“It’s not.” Andrew cut in.

“Well then I will just have to stay in England for longer to binge your show, Y/N. I’m hooked already!”

“Thank you.” You smiled kindly.

“Now, Andrew and Florence. Your new movie is coming out in January, am I right?” Graham asked.

“Yes. January the first.” Florence answered.

“I’ve always wanted to know whether as actors you find it difficult to do intimate scenes with one another - ‘cause I imagine they’re quite intense but it’s also not someone you’ve built an intimate connection with let’s say.”

“Well Florence and I were lucky in that we really trusted one another and felt safe with each other in that space, so I don’t think either one of us felt uncomfortable, right?” Andrew answered, prompting Florence for a response.

“Yeah and I think also there’s an element of knowing in the back of your mind that this is a piece of work that we’ve committed to, and we want to do it well. We have to look convincing to do the job well, which then helps make the acting look more convincing as well.” Florence answered.

“Well you’re very good actors because from the trailer alone you look like you’re a fully committed couple.” Graham laughed, causing other people to agree.

“We’re in a platonic relationship in real life.” Andrew grabbed Florence’s hand to gesture their friendship bond.

You smiled as you watched them.

At the beginning of your relationship, it had been a little difficult to adjust to dating someone who is so high profile in comparison to you. Now, you’re feeling more and more confident within yourself and your own worth each day which makes seeing on-screen chemistry with Andrew’s co-stars easier.

Yours and Andrew’s relationship was - just like any other relationship - built on a pillar of trust and you were very fortunate that you had a lot of trust for each other because you respected each other.

“Well your chemistry is very convincing.” Graham said.

“That’s because we’re great actors.” Florence smiled - earning a cheer from the audience.

No amount of Graham’s meddling would cause Andrew’s gaze to shift from yours.

Once people had settled back down you noticed Andrew’s hand sitting on the chair next to his thigh.

You convincingly, pretend to tuck a hand under your own thigh, pretending like it was a comfort thing, and ever so slightly reached out your pinky finger to touch Andrew’s.

He clearly was on the same wavelength as you because you felt his pinky finger stretching too.

The comfort alone when your pinky fingers grazed each other was warm and lovely. You tried your best to not let your reaction visibly show, but it was hard not to slightly smile or blush when Andrew made you feel so much. So so much.

[kitkat13001]

⋆⑅˚₊ 🧸ྀི 𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚜𝚢

>> katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

>> she/her pronouns, mentions of alcohol, reader is wine drunk and bakugou takes care of her, reader can’t handle spice, established relationship, this is completely self-indulgent

katsuki hears the thuds of footsteps in the hall and the muffled giggles and shushes and clanking of (probably now empty) bottles. he closes his book, accepting to himself that he will not be sleeping tonight.  

he could be mad, and he’s a little irritated, but it’s not the first time and it is most definitely far from the last. 

he opens the door just as mina raises an arm but doesn’t get the chance to knock. she gasps, hiccuping a little. she turns to you, ochako, and tsu behind her. 

“guys, i think he read my mind.”

“thanks for bringing her back,” katsuki huffs, beckoning you inside. you giggle, staying planted behind tsu. 

“are you gonna be mad?” you ask with big eyes. then you giggle again. “mina brought wine.”

katsuki rolls his eyes. “i can see that.” his eyes trace over the group again, taking a headcount. his brows furrow into a scowl. 

“where the fuck is hagakure?”

“toru got stuck on the roof, ribbit!”

katsuki groans loudly. it was always something. last time, you weren’t found until morning, napping in a closet. 

he takes you by the arm, gently but firmly leading you inside. 

“make sure somebody sends tail man after her, ‘kay? and i swear to god, ashido, do not come back here in the morning for a hangover breakfast,” katsuki scowls. mina grins and gives a salute. “aye, aye captain!”

“say goodnight, princess,” katsuki sighs, holding you around the shoulder to keep you from falling. 

eyes nearly closed, you murmur a dutiful, “goodnight, princess.”

the girls giggle before stumbling down the hall to drop off the next one. 

once they’re gone, katsuki rounds on you. 

“you are in so much fucking trouble right now.”

you whine. “noooo, don’t be mad, ‘suki, you said you wouldn’t be mad.”

you cling to him like a child, hardly able to stand on your own. you claw at his arms and look up at him with big pleading eyes.  

“don’t be mad? say you’re not mad, kacchan. please?”

he sighs, unable to deny you. “‘m not mad,” he huffs, looking away from your large eyes. 

“okay,” you mumble, nuzzling your head into his chest. 

your head snaps up suddenly. “‘m hungry, kacchan,” you slur, tapping insistently on his chest. 

katsuki shakes his head in disbelief. “your stomach is full of liquor, how the fuck are you hungry?”

“will you make me ramen?” you ask, batting your long lashes. even drunk, you know how to play him. katsuki agrees with pink cheeks. 

“fine. but just so you don’t eat all the damn cookie dough again.”

you giggle at the memory. 

“that was not an invitation,” he warns, leading you by the hand over to the kitchen. he sits you down on the counter to be able to keep an eye on you. god knows what trouble you’d get into on your own. 

katsuki doesn’t take long to set the noodles to boil, leaning against the counter while he waits. 

he turns his head slightly only to be met with the sight of your eyes, which are currently glassy with tears. 

“kacchan?”

“what?” 

“w-would you s-still love me…if i was *hic* if i was a worm?”

you blink and your eyes are giant and teary. 

katsuki pinches the bridge of his nose, willing himself to stay calm. while your absolutely helplessness was irritating, it was also a little endearing. he thought it was cute the way you got all fuzzy-brained. 

“yes, baby, i would still love you if you were a worm,” he answers patiently, scooping the noodles into a bowl and adding the seasoning. 

“i want it reaaally spicy,” you announce, leaning forward on the counter so far katsuki is afraid you’ll fall off. 

he hums in acknowledgment, but he’s not really listening. he knows you hate spicy food, weak little thing with no tolerance. 

so he holds up the spices and pretends to shake it in. 

you prattle on about how hungry you are, clapping in delight as he sets the food down in front of you.

he watches you devour the noodles, permitting himself a small smile at how cute you look when you’re stuffing your face. he's definitely gonna bring this up when you’re sober.

when you’re all done, happy as a clam, katsuki leads you by the hand to the bedroom. he listens with the ghost of a smile as you tell him about your day with a soft voice and trailing-off sentences while he gets you ready for bed.

you sit obediently as he brushes through your hair and cleans off your makeup, applying your skincare with gentle hands. your eyes are wide with adoration as you look at him, at his concentrated expression and the way his tongue is poking out the corner of his mouth as he finishes rubbing in your moisturizer.

he looks quite proud of himself by the end of it, satisfied little smile resting on his face as he watches you crawl into bed with a fresh, bare face and warm pajamas and a yawn.

maybe he’ll go easy on you tomorrow, just because of how cute you are when you’re dependent on him like this. he likes being needed by you.

“come cuddle w’me, kacchan,” you whine, holding your arms out for him as you burrow beneath the covers.

he huffs a little, but he’s quick to crawl in beside you. you feel safe and secure once he wraps you up in his arms, his voice in your ear after he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“g’night, baby. sweet dreams.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

i wrote this a while ago but i never finished it, so idk if it reads kinda choppy at the end? not sure how to feel about it. i like the sentiment tho <3 hope you guys like it!

[infictionalwonderland]

Hiii, not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this, but could you do Eloise Bridgerton with a fem! royal! reader who is completely smitten with Eloise and is very open about being a lesbian? And her family supports her (shes Queen Charlottes favorite niece)

(they are open! and absolutely i can do this for you babe x)

“She’s here!”

The Queen, your aunt, rolled her eyes fondly at you as you scuttled away hastily—a secret smile pulling at her lips at the sheer happiness on your face.

You waded through the mass of people in the ballroom, a smile practically stretching from ear to ear. Some turned to look and curled their lips in disgust at you, knowing very well who you were walking to. Others looked at the raw joy on your face and smiled with you.

You stopped a bit away from your girl and her family, taking the time to admire her. Her hair was in a ponytail of curls with two pulled out the side and her fringe framing her face—lips a soft ruby and skin sparkling under the light. She was dressed in a soft mint green dress, a delicate necklace adorning her neck and resting on her chest, her arms covered with long gloves.

(You were in love)

“Ah.” Daphne spoke first, as she saw you. Her lips curled into a secret smirk, clasping onto her husbands arm and hiding her face half behind his bicep to conceal herself.

Simon looked down at her fondly, eyes practically glimmering.

“Hello Bridgertons.” You beamed genuinely, all the family returning your expression with equal truth.

As you had done her, Eloise could not help but stare at you in awe. Your skin looked glowy and wonderfully soft under the lightening, your smile the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—eyes squinted with the force of it. Your dress was otherworldly, although to her, anything you wore would be and she just wanted to run her fingers through your hair.

“How do you all find yourself fairing tonight?”

“Yes, yes, very good. Blah—blah.” Benedict immediately waved the question away with an easygoing smile, gently taking his sisters arm and pushing her towards you. “We know which Bridgerton you are truly here fo.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

Eloise flustered, unused to such attention but you smirked back at Benedict. The whole family watched with smiles on their faces as their stone cold Eloise who detested marriage and had no true belief in love, melted against you as you took her hand, staring at you with wonder in her eyes.

“I’m beginning to realise it was never love she loathed—“ Anthony mumbled to Kate at his side, “just men.”

“Yes, and who can fault her that?” Kate questioned, head tilted.

All smiles, you looped your arm through Eloise’s and the both of you gracefully walked off—well, you glided effortlessly, from years of training and Eloise’s steps were harsh and careless against the floor, an endearing sense of her own unique grace about her.

“How are you today, Miss Bridgerton?” You smiled at her cheekily, eyes twinkling in a way that immediately disarmed her.

“I—yes, I am quite well, thank you.” Eloise stumbled, a fluttering feeling settling deep within her stomach, heart spiking as she was unable to look away from your eyes. “And yourself, your—your grace?”

“I could be your grace if you would like.” You emphasised pointedly, a mischievously sweetened smile curving at lips. You snatched a flute of alcohol from a passing servers platter, daintily looking into the eyes of the woman you admired.

She gulped slightly, a charmed blush warming her skin.

“I’ve had a genial day so far, my lady.” You giggled softly. “Although it has become all the more enjoyable when graced with your wondrous presence.”

“I can say much the same for myself.” Eloise rushed out genuinely, a smile at her lips as your eyes sparkled in response. “I find being in your proximity a most precious experience.”

“Perhaps you should venture in closer,” you offered almost offhandedly, taking another sip from your flute as you observed her, “you discover that to be an even more precious time.”

Eloise laughed a tad too loudly, nerves escaping her, but—with a timid smirk curving into her plush mouth, she edged closer towards you.

“And?” You encouraged amusedly, smiling.

“I—Your presence is even more powerful from here.” She grinned crookedly, “perhaps a tad too powerful—“ she joked, moving to take a teasing few paces away.

Your gloved hand caught her own and you both breathed in sharper at the contact. Without taking your eyes from hers, you traced almost absently on the silk material and she shallowly breathed in, feeling the sensations of your touch as though they were against her bare skin.

“Stay close, please.” You simply stated, tugging her back towards you gently. “If you would like.”

“I would like very much.”

You raised an amused eyebrow at her immediate reply and she battled back embarrassment as she made direct eye contact you, unabashed in the truth of her words.

“Your Grace, you look enchanting tonight.” Eloise complimented truthfully, admiring you. “I am only disheartened I have to share this awe-inspiring view with others.”

“You could admire me further in private, if you simply ask to do so.” You shrugged, a smirk on your lips.

Eloise blinked innocently, narrowing her eyes (cutely) as she attempted to recognise the hidden meaning—your words and tone making her feel warm all over.

She was about to open her mouth to adhere to your request when another approached.

“Your Grace,” a well dressed man you did not know walked to you both, bowing to you deeply while staring. “Lady Bridgerton.” He shortly acknowledged.

“It is indeed a pleasure.” Eloise muttered with a tight, bitter smile as she stepped closer to you—feeling dismay at how this man was staring at you.

“Quite.” He agreed, still gazing at you. “It has come to my attentions that your dance card is still empty, Your Grace—“

“Is it?” You interrupted, tilting your head innocently. “Allow me.” You implored to him, holding you hand out for his quill that a man was required to bring, to scribe on a lady’s dance card.

He blinked, a smirk crawling to rest on his mouth as he wielded to you his quill. You took it and immediately turned to Eloise, who grinned crookedly at you when you extended your wrist to her with the man’s quill.

The gent sputtered and flailed usefully in your peripherals but you could frankly give less of a shirt—staring at Eloise as she gently clasped your wrist in her hand, writing hurriedly onto your dance card with a triumphant grin upon her lips.

Fuck. You wanted to kiss her.

“This—this is hardly—“

“Enough? I do quite agree.” You aunt announced as she made her rare appearance on the ballroom floor, glowering superiorly at this unknown man. “I will organise more dances for you and your beloved. Now, shoo, shoo.” She turned to you, ushering you to the floor as a new dance began, a secret wink shot at you.

You and Eloise clasped hands, running away and towards the rest of the couples, giggling like children as you left the treacherous man with your darling aunt.

“You are a marvel.” Eloise laughed out softly, cheeks burning with joy, eyes crinkled as you stood across from one another—curtsying to each other. “I could not have asked for a better partner—in well, everything.”

“Oh, El.” You beamed, an enamoured giggle leaving your throat. “Believe me, it is I who is the lucky one.”

“Rubbish.” She rolled her eyes playfully, “never had I envisioned, even in my wildest fantasies, that—that I could. . would feel this way for another. But, you have invoked such—such emotion in me, it is almost a miracle.” Eloise laughed sheepishly. “You are not only angel in beauty and mind alike, you are also a miracle worker. . Are you not simply all a woman could ever want?”

“If you insist, Lady Bridgerton—“ You grinned widely, shrugging playfully at her.

You both laughed together, garnering sneers and smiles alike, although none of it was noticed. Lost in your own little bubble, hearts and butterflies practically fluttering around the pair of you.

In a spur of the moment, you decided to break from the traditional dance, pulling Eloise impossibly close to you before twirling her out—her dress billowing: she yelped in shock before you were both laughing giddily, others on the dance floor stumbling in bewilderment.

All eyes were on you both but you could not care, did not notice. You spun Eloise around before twirling her back to your front, swinging her playfully as she laughed loudly and you grinned uncontrollably down at her.

The sudden lack of chatter caused your shared laughter to slowly die out, looking about only to realise all eyes were on you both.

People blinked owlishly at the pair of you and you could feel Eloise begin to tense defensively before a sharp whistling erupted—followed by whoops and claps.

Everyone turned to see Benedict, fingers to his lips as he whistled uproariously. Kate was whooping and cheering happily, smiling ear to ear and Anthony, arm around her waist, was following her lead. Violet was politely clapping, a barely noticeable sheen of happy tears at her eyes at seeing her daughter to happy—Lady Danbury at her side, was applauding wholeheartedly as well. Colin was grinning, cheering—Penelope at his side was similarly expressing. Daphne and Simon were clapping loudly: The Queen, back on her platform, was engaging in a secret applause of her own, concealing her smile with Brimsley at her back doing the same.

Eloise and You blinked.

“Yes, yes!” Eloise snapped over the cheering, concealing her own smile and touched emotions. “We are quite besotted, thank you all for noticing, if you could return to your prior engagements that would sincerely appreciated.” She shouted, glaring at everyone.

The people of the ton twitched and blinked and fumbled in fear of the Bridgerton girl, returning to what they were doing—some sneaking looks back at you both.

When Eloise turned back to you in a pouty huff, you were beaming at her, mischief in your eyes.

“Besotted—?”

“Shut up!”

As your combined laughs echoed beautifully once again, all the Bridgertons and their extended family traded genuine smiles.

Their Eloise was incredibly happy, so it seemed: as were you.

[sincerelybubbles]

Here's a dialogue prompt for Emily please! Try this out pls. Love you Kam sm sm. "So why are you here?" "To make a fool of myself." ok ty lysm

even though i watched u type this, the wording makes me giggle every time i look at it.

emily prentiss x tech analyst!reader <3

warnings: fem!reader, cannon typical violence, very brief allusions to sexual assault (nothing happens!), angst and fluff! mutual pining.

word count: 5.4k

Emily is the loveliest thing you've ever seen and you can't imagine how she could ever possibly like you back. She enjoys the game, though, and teasing you is her favorite hobby.

-

It’s a sunny day. Warmth trickles down with the scattered light through the leaves. Patterns trace your arms, throwing your skin into a collage of different shapes and shades. Leaning back on your elbows, you watch people mill about the park. You look back down at your arm after a few more minutes, this time focused on the small watch resting there. With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your pants before picking up the small blanket you laid out and tucking it into your bag. 

You walk back to work, enjoying the sounds of the people around you. You lingered too long at the park during your break and are hoping that nobody notices your slightly late return. Maybe the team will be in a meeting, gruesome pictures you never quite learned to stomach plastered on the board, entirely oblivious to your tardiness. 

Unlikely, but a welcome thought soothing your anxiety as you push the door open and scan your badge at the security desk. 

“Welcome back,” the security guard says, smiling at you over his paperback. He’s an old greying man and you vaguely recognize him. You think he’s new and send him a warm smile in return. 

“Thanks,” you glance at his name badge, “Martin!”

You walk past him and step into the elevator. “Wait!” A voice calls and you reach forward to hit the hold button instinctively before you register the voice as Emily’s. 

She jogs into the elevator with you, smiling gratefully. “Thanks, I’m already running a little behind.” She lifts a container and shakes it a little. The label is from the Italian bistro across the street, about a ten-minute walk away and always nearly triple that in wait time. 

“Brave of you to go there during your lunch,” you joke, returning her smile and pressing the button for your floor. 

You hope she can’t see how your hands shake as you reach forward.

“I know, I just love their Pasta Brado. Have you tried it?”

“Can’t say I have. I’m boring, I usually go for the parm.”

“You’re not boring,” she says so earnestly that you can’t help but blush. You cough as an excuse to raise your hand to your face and hopefully hide it some. “You do have to try it, though. Here,” she offers you the plastic box. 

“Oh, I couldn’t. And I already ate.” You ignore the way your chest hurts a little at how enthusiastic she is. The worst part? She doesn’t even know how endearing her simple kindness, her casual enthusiasm, is to you. 

“Tomorrow, then. We can go together.” The elevator doors open as she says it and she steps out with an affirmative nod to solidify it. “Don’t try to bail out on me either, I know where to find you.”

“Yeah, I'm okay,” you say, feeling lame as you step out behind her. “I would love to.” She’s too far to hear you, though, already heading to Spencer’s desk and jumping right into his conversation with Morgan. 

Someone says your last name and you turn on your heel to see Hotch and cringe slightly. “I was trying to find you.” It’s a kinder way of him reminding you that you’re nearly ten minutes late back from your lunch. 

“Sorry, sir.”

“It’s fine. Do you have the reports finished from last week's trip to Huston?”

“Yes, sir, they’re at my desk. One moment.”

-

You and Emily don’t go to the bistro the next day because she and the team are sent to a small town in Kansas that night. 

“I’ll owe you lunch,” she says, hand on the back of your desk chair and brushing your shoulder as the team rushes to the jet. 

“Don’t worry about it!” You reassure her.

“I’m taking you to lunch,” she calls over her shoulder, pretend-glaring, “you will try that Brado!”

And then she’s gone, leaving you giddy and breathless. 

You know she’s just being friendly – she treats Spencer, Morgan, and JJ all the same as you – but her efforts to spend one-on-one time with you outside of work still have you feeling like a schoolgirl passed a note from her crush in class. 

You try to remind your heart to stop singing because Emily probably isn’t even gay and definitely isn’t interested. Instead, Garcia scares the shit out of you when she interrupts your inner monologue. 

“Lunch with Emily? Things are getting serious in your work marriage.” You hadn’t seen her walk into the room and jump at her voice, hand jumping to your mouth to suppress a yelp. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“It’s okay, didn’t see you.”

“Your loss, I look fantastic today.”

“As always,” you smile up at her, nose wrinkling and genuine fondness filling your senses. 

“Careful, wouldn’t want a workplace affair,” she jokes, leaning against your desk and picking up the stress ball you keep handy. 

“Stop,” you moan in good nature. “Nobody else calls us work wives.”

“That’s just because they don’t have my brilliance and excellent observational skills.”

“Nor do they have the same privy to my more personal thoughts,” you say, glancing up at her before returning to your paperwork. With the team leaving so quickly to tend to a missing child's case, you’re not getting home in time to cook dinner but are hoping to leave early enough to grab food instead of resorting to your freezer stash. 

“I would hope not. You know I can’t be replaced, baby.”

“Does Morgan know you talk to all your work besties like this?”

“I most certainly do not. You’re a regular bestie, not a work bestie.” A wink and then her expression sobers. “I do have an actual reason for visiting your humble cubical, though.”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to need extra hands for this case. It’s time-sensitive, as usual, and seems like it will be particularly tricky.”

“Yes ma’am,” you say, dropping your pen and standing to follow her. 

Your position at the bureau is kind of a catch-all. Most of your time is spent logging data, building reports, and doing general research for the team. Occasionally, though, you jump in to help Garcia with real-time research. Nothing as high-stakes as her direct assignments, more background work. Calling offices to talk to managers, combing through more meticulous data, generic census material to rule out obvious dead ends. 

It’s stressful work that technically isn’t what you’re paid for but you never complain. Your team saves lives, consistently putting themselves in the line of danger. If you have to spend a few hours a month helping Garcia call a suspect's manager at McDonald's to see if he still works there, it’s literally the least you can do. 

“Yes, so, it looks like our unsub…”

You drown out Garcia’s brief about information you already have sitting in front of you and begin vetting possible suspects from the large pool her system created.

It’s going to be a long night. You think about future Brado to cheer you up. 

-

“Reid, Prentiss take the back,” Hotch’s voice fills your ears. You imagine the pair nodding and splitting off from the group. 

This is your least favorite part of helping the team with active investigations – listening in on the calls. It’s rare that you and Garcia join the line when they’re approaching the unsub but, with you helping her, it isn’t a risk to distract Garcia and a much quicker method of getting any new information the team needs. It’s a new system you’ve only tried thrice, unsure how having microphones on 24/7 will work, and it grants you and the team more fluid communication.

Still, adrenaline floods your veins as you listen to their coms, the sounds of Garcia typing a constant behind their voices, imagining every way this could go wrong. 

You suspect the girl is still alive, the uncle doesn’t seem to have any reason to kill her just yet, but your fear for her grows with every minute. 

“Clear!”

Your eyes fall to the receipts flooding your screen. Ammo. A new rifle and pistol. The team knows but the evidence of this unsubs ability to hurt any of your friends, your family, isn’t helping your nerves. 

“I think he’s going to the roof!” Morgan’s voice, clear in the comms. 

You click out of the documents. Two swift motions on the screen. The firm press of the button. 

“Morgan, you’re on foot. Prentiss, follow him. Everyone else in vans, go!”

“Garcia, map out possible escape routes from the roof,” you instruct. 

She nods, screens shifting immediately. She puts on her own headset with one hand and clicks on the call and starts to bark information to Hotch. 

“Got her!” Reid’s voice sounds and you deflate a little. He mutes as he begins to console the small girl. 

You know you can take off your headset now, leave the call, and go to your paperwork. There isn’t much more you can do to help – you’re sure that’s what you’re supposed to do – but you stay on anyway, listening. 

“Right on Elmore!” Morgan calls. You find the street on Garcia’s screen, eyes tracing the path you think they’re taking. 

“We’ll try to cut him off,” Rossi says and you can hear tires in the background of the call. The click of a steering wheel cutting to the side too quickly. Someone’s labored breathing – probably Morgan’s as he dead sprints. 

“Stop! Put your hands up!” Emily shouts. The firmness in her voice makes you sit up straighter in your chair. 

You hear something that sounds vaguely like, “bitch,” before a loud pop drowns anything else out. 

“Emily!” Morgan’s voice, more pops. 

Gunfire. That’s gunfire, your brain recognizes. 

Your blood has gone cold.

“We need a medic!” Morgan shouts. Hotch’s line blinks red, going dead as he calls the ambulance. “Emily, Emily.”

Rustling. Cars. Sirens. Morgan’s line goes dead after you hear a car door slam shut. Then Reid’s and Rossi’s. Emily’s is the last to stay green, blinking.

You and Garcia stare at each other as you listen to Emily be loaded into an ambulance. Listen to Morgan tell the team, voice far away and barely tangible, that the unsub only managed to fire out one shot before he downed him. 

Neither of you can hear where she was shot or how badly injured she is before Emily’s line goes red as well.

-

“Emily?” You call softly, rapping your knuckles softly on the frame of the cracked hospital door. 

Your name, faint, answers you and you take that as permission to nudge the door open. The room looked dark from the hallway but Emily has the small lamp embedded on the wall switched on, throwing her face into harsh shadow. 

“Hey, you,” you say, walking in, arms full. “I brought things.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, trying to sit herself up further and wincing as the motion pulls on her stitches in her abdomen. 

“Wait, let me help you,” you say, setting your things down and reaching out a hand. 

You wait for her nod before touching her, letting her grasp your arm and looping your other arm around the back of her waist to take most of her weight yourself. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles. You can tell she hates feeling useless, hates needing help for something as simple as sitting up, so you drop the subject with a nod and kind smile. 

You turn around to the small rolling tray where you put your things down, pulling two black containers out from a plastic bag. You feel silly and very awkward as you turn around to show them to her. 

“I know it’s probably not quite what you meant but,” you set the containers down on her bed and pop one open. 

“The Pasta Brado! Oh man, I was going to treat you.” She’s pouting through a smile, attempting to put on an upset facade and failing miserably. 

It’s so cute that you struggle with what to say next. 

“Thank you, really. You can pull up that chair, if you’re hungry now.”

You grab the chair she’s motioned to and drag it to sit next to her. “I’m hungry if you are. It might be a little cold, though, it’s kind of a far walk.”

“You walked here?” Emily asks, tone appalled and face comically shocked. 

“Yeah, my car broke down last week. I’ve been walking to work – it’s actually really nice out right now – and I couldn’t find a cab from the bistro.” You busy yourself with the food while you talk, opening the second container, setting it on her legs, and unwrapping the plastic cutlery for her. 

“Jesus! You didn’t need to come and see me if you don’t have a car. You didn’t need to come at all, actually. I really appreciate it,” she amends, seeing how your bashful smile freezes on your face, reaching forward as if to touch your face and brushing your shoulder instead. “It’s really sweet of you but you didn’t need to walk all that way. Isn’t it like a twenty-minute walk from here?”

Over thirty, but you nod anyway, knowing it won’t help your case to correct her. “It’s not a big deal. You were shot in the stomach, of course I wanted to see you.”

“Ah, so you wouldn't want to see me otherwise,” she teases, nodding and pushing her pasta around with her fork. She doesn’t even try to conceal her grin. 

“Ha ha, very funny,” you mumble. You take a bite of your food and your eyes widen. “Oh my god.”

“I knew you would love it,” she beams, watching your expression as you taste the food. You you she meant to say it in a gloating way but you swear you can hear a sort of fondness behind the words. Something in you warms at her ability to know you so well. 

You tell yourself you’re overreacting about both thoughts. 

“You were right – Emily this is unfairly good.”

“Oh, I know,” she says, taking her own bite and letting out an exaggerated moan, complete with an eye roll. You giggle and she smiles at you. “Thank you, this is exactly what I needed.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, holding her eye contact. 

She's been in the hospital for three days, transferred back to Virginia last night; her hair is unwashed and unbrushed, and she’s wearing no makeup and a hospital gown. 

She’s still the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. 

-

Your car is fixed by the time Emily is released from the hospital two days later and you offer to take her home. 

“Hi Sergio,” you greet the cat brushing against your legs as Emily disengages the alarm. 

You set her things down by the door before turning to offer her your arm. Emily doesn’t pretend that she doesn’t need the help when it’s just you two, something you’re grateful for after watching her struggle with the team around, and lets you guide her to her bedroom. 

You set about making her comfortable, turning down her sheets and propping the pillows up so she can sit. 

“I’ve got it,” she laughs, playfully pushing away your hands. 

You laugh along with her, raising your hands and backing away. “I’m going to go put the rest of your stuff away and get you a drink.”

“Perfect, I’ll take an old-fashioned. Don’t forget the cherry.”

You roll your eyes at her, scoffing and leaving her room. 

You throw her clothes and go-bag in her laundry room before making her a glass of water and another glass of juice. Once you’re sure she’s settled in her bed with her book, you return to the kitchen to make her a few dinners, ignoring her protests. 

-

Emily is back in the field much sooner than you would have liked. 

“I was cleared by the doctors,” she tells you, coat slung over her arm as she digs through her bag for her badge. 

You smile at Martin, sending him a mock exasperated look, before she finds her ID and shows it to him. 

“It still seems too soon, Em,” you persist, reaching forward to push the elevator button and turning so you can lean back to watch her face. 

“Em?” Emily asks, the hint of a smile pulling up the left corner of her mouth. 

You sort of feel like you could die in that moment, just from the heat that simple gesture surges through you. 

“It just sort of slipped out, sorry,” you say, thoroughly embarrassed. 

The elevator dings and the doors open, throwing you off balance for a second. This doesn’t help your already flared nerves as you stumble back and drop your bag. You reach down to gather it and the files scattered across the floor. 

You’re kneeling to stuff everything in your bag when Emily crosses your line of sight again, wide smile on her face – teeth fully on display and nose scrunched, you are in desperate need of help – holding out your notepad.

“I think the nickname’s sweet. I kind of like the idea of having a name only one person, only you, calls me.”

All of the air has left this godforsaken elevator, the heat must be on, you stare dumbly at her as she reaches forward to grab your bag and put the rest of your papers inside of it for you. 

And then, realizing you look like an absolute idiot, you snap back into your body and cough slightly. The doors ding and open again, you grab your bag from her and stand slowly. Smiling at her, still crouched on the floor and looking, amused, up at you through her eyelashes, you say, “Okay. Thanks, then, Emmy.”

You walk away after that brief flash of confidence, telling yourself you’re just imagining how you swear her face flushed bright at your comment. 

And if Morgan mentions a few minutes that Emily seems flusters, well, who can blame you for floating on that high for a few days?

Except she doesn’t let it go. 

She corners you on your break in the kitchenette. Literally. She catches you when you’re examining the coffee pot that has been making concerning gurgles for the past few days and leans on the counter behind you, effectively blocking your exit. 

Not that you really want to leave. 

She’s wearing a red tank top and dark jeans, her hair is loose around her shoulders, eyes steadily trained on your face as you work. 

“Hello,” you say, quiet in a way you’re not normally. 

“Hi.”

“What’re you doing?” You ask after a few more moments of her silently staring at you while you pretend to know what you’re doing with a screwdriver. 

“Enjoying the view.”

You drop your screwdriver and relish in the sound of her laugh. 

-

You’d love to say that you had some suave answer to return her charm but you think you spent it all that morning with your boldness. 

You’re not shy but confidence doesn’t run in your blood either. You’d say you’re pretty normal – average. You don’t find much wrong with that, you know you have other qualities that build you up into an interesting person. You love your friends and coworkers deeply, for one. And have an intense trust in them and their abilities. 

That trust is always tested in your day-to-day at work but never more than now as you feel the car around you make turns at highway speeds. You think you’re on some sort of back road but it’s hard to tell from the trunk given the obvious lack of windows. 

You’re calmer than you thought you would be if kidnapped. 

Groaning after one particularly rough turn that has you jostling against the sides of the trunk, you allow your head to thump back and stare at the inside of the dark car. Light breaks through the cracks of the hinges of the trunk and you wonder if water trickles through when it rains. 

You’ve been in here too long to consider if you’re focused on the wrong things. You’re scared shitless, of course, but the adrenaline faded about an hour into your drive and now you’re just bored. 

Imagine that – bored as fuck in the trunk of a stranger's car, wrists burning from the rope and jaw sore from where it’s been forced open too long by the fabric tied around the back of your head. 

You’re just allowing yourself to reimagine your morning with Emily when the car stops and the engine cuts. 

You snap back into the present, energy flooding your system again as your brain flicks into overdrive. You might spend your days paper-pushing behind a desk, but you passed your physical. You’re smart, you’ve heard the stories of how these victims survive captivity. 

When the trunk pops open, you squeeze your eyes shut to prevent pain from the sudden lack of light. You don’t want to be blinded and the action has the added benefit of pleasing your captor. He put a hood over your hood when he grabbed you, muttering in your ear in tense tones that you would do best to not even try to see him. 

Say what you will, you usually do a pretty good job at following directions. This one is easy and happens to be number one on your list right now – keep him happy so he keeps you alive. 

“Good girl,” a gruff voice says before a calloused hand gropes the back of your neck to yank you forward. Scratchy fabric envelops your head and your hot breath bounces back against you, trapped against the fabric of the hood. 

You stand when his hands start to grab your waist, pulling yourself to your knees and allowing yourself to be lifted from the trunk.

You want to run but know now’s not the time. 

“Look at how well-behaved you are!” His breath is wet against your neck. He stands too close, hands clawing under the hem of your shirt to cling to your skin. 

He walks you forward like that, chest pressed against your back and breath slithering down the collar of your shirt to hang uncomfortably over your collarbones. 

It’s becoming increasingly more obvious what this sicko wants from you and your stomach is twisting at the thought. You urge the team to hurry up, knowing your absence would have been missed ages ago. They have to be looking for you by now. And, with how sloppy this dude seems to be, he must have left a plethora of clues waiting to be found. 

You have to repeat this to yourself as you hear a door lock click. 

“Took you long enough. This is the girl? She’s kind of … well,” the second man kisses his teeth with a sharp sound. You’re pushed forward again. “Whatever floats your boat man.” The door shuts and locks behind you. The second man's voice fades as he talks, disinterested. 

You wonder if it’s wrong to feel slightly insulted right now. 

“This way, doll.”

You listen. It’s saving your life to be complicit in his directions, so you listen. Still, you’re shoved harshly to the floor once you get to where he wants you, knees striking what feels like cement. Before you can recover, your cheek stings and your head is whipping to the side from a sudden slap. 

Then, there’s a kick to your ribs. You fall onto your side, too winded to even cry out, lips falling open in a silent scream. A boot in your belly. Your ribs again, your hip and back. 

“Why?” You manage to sob out. “Why, why?”

You don’t get an answer.

-

You’re not overly religious but you thank whatever heavens or universe exists that he leaves you alone once he’s done kicking the shit out of you. Your ribs are bruised but the worst you expected hasn’t happened. 

The boredom returns as you lay with throbbing ribs. At least one is broken and every breath hurts. You can’t imagine sitting up and, luckily, with your hands tied behind your back, it’s not really an option anyway. 

It must be near an hour later when you’re fading out of consciousness – a purposeful choice on your part to save your energy – when you hear the front door burst down. 

“FBI! Hands where I can see them!” Morgan. You nearly weep but think better when your stuttered gasp makes your side throb. “What the fuck?” You hear shouted in reply. “Robb, what the fuck man.”

There isn’t much of a resistance from the living room. The second man is shouting at what you can only assume is the first – your initial kidnapper – but there’s nothing else other than that. 

“Clear!” You hear Hotch call. Spencer replies and then you hear the door nearest you open. 

His voice calls out your name. You deflate against the floor. A second, you know he’s scanning the room with his gun before holstering it. “Clear! I need a medic!”

Hands, gentle, against your face, removing the hood. Swifter after that, removing your gag, and then hand binds. 

“Hey, Spence,” you say, trying to smile up at him. 

“Shh, you’re okay. We’ve got you.” He starts to support your weight behind your shoulders and the pain that brings is too intense to prevent your yelp. 

“Oh my god, is she okay?” You hear Emily ask seconds before you see her. She looks concerned, hair now in a tight ponytail and FBI vest strapped over her chest. She whispers your name once and then a second time, reaching forward to gently brush your hair out of your eyes. 

“Hey, pretty,” you say, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can catch them.

“Hi beautiful,” she answers, reply just as soft as your own. Earnest. 

It makes your heart ache and, for the first time since being yanked off the road walking to grab lunch, you start to cry. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, beautiful, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She repeats this as you’re lifted by the paramedics and cry harder. 

She repeats it when they stitch up where kicks burst the skin over your cheekbone open, repeats it as she trails a hand down your arm in gentle patterns while they examine your ribs and confirm that you’ve broken two, maybe three. 

She tries with you in the ambulance. 

You can’t help but think about being on the phone when you heard Emily be shot weeks earlier. You squeeze your eye shut as they insert the IV, beyond grateful that she’s there to hold your hand while they do it. The tear that falls down your cheek has nothing to do with the pain and everything to do with the thought that you couldn’t have been there for her in the same way. 

An odd thought, you realize, but it’s the one you’re stuck with as you drift away when the pain medicine enters your system. 

-

You’re sent home three days later. You insist on spending the night alone, afraid to admit you’re scared because, honestly, nothing much happened to you. 

Oh, of course, everyone tries to convince you otherwise but you know they’ve all had it worse. You were gone from the bureau for about eight hours and spent most of it bored. 

So you force yourself to spend the night alone. You don’t need help moving around or doing things for yourself so you convince yourself you don’t need help. 

You’re cooking dinner when the doorbell rings. You wipe your hands with a dish towel and take your time walking to the door to look through the peephole. You don’t know who took you yet, you haven’t asked and nobody has said, but you can imagine seeing him through the door. Waiting for you, waiting to kill you this time. 

Okay, yeah, maybe Spencer was right when he talked about PTSD and usual levels of anxiety, but you’re so tired of him being so right all of the time that you really want to prove him right.

There is no man standing on the other side of the door, though. Instead, you see Emily, holding a plate wrapped in tin foil and looking serene in your apartment hallway. 

You open the door quickly, unlatching it and turning off your alarm with a few clicks. “Emily?”

“Ah, man, I was getting used to Emmy,” she jokes, stepping inside with a smile in your direction and kicking off her shoes. 

You can’t think of an answer so you just smile at her, hoping she’ll take the lead. You’re tired and she must see it because she offers the plate in her hands to you once the door is closed and the alarm is reengaged. 

“Rossi sent me with it with explicit instructions to not let you share it.”

You giggle and take the plate. “I’ll have to tell him thank you. It’s kind of out of your way to come all this way, though, isn’t it?”

“Not out of my way at all,” she says, words dripping with meaning as she holds your eyes. “I would have come even if Rossi didn’t have food for you.”

“So why are you here?”

“To make a fool of myself,” she says, casually, like that’s something people say every day, “probably. You’ve just gotten back from the hospital and I know you said you wanted to be alone, but,” she swallows and her words are becoming more rushed as she speaks, “I said the same thing and you still stayed.”

“Emily?” You ask, setting the plate down on your hallway table and clearing your throat. “Ah, Emmy?” You amend when she cuts you a look. Your attempt to diffuse the tension doesn’t work and she steps closer so you’re toe to toe.

“That doesn’t really answer your question, though. You’re sweet enough that you would let it go, but,” she shrugs, reaching forward to gently loop her fingers around your wrists. “Stop me if this is awful timing. Please,” she says, leaning forward and staring into your eyes. 

You feel like you’re suffocating, but if this is death, you’ll greet it gladly in the irises of Emily Prentiss. You’re caught in the trap of the moment, heart hardly breathing, all aches and sores forgotten because Emily is leaning closer, breath fanning across your face. You feel intoxicated, ensnared. 

Everything that has ever been exists here, now, in this moment. Every breath used to blow out birthday candles and blow away eyelashes – breaths with purpose, with wishes, with intent – exists between the two of you as she leans closer and closer. Closer, still, and how can so much distance exist between you two when you’ve been standing so closely?

“Just, stop me, if you want,” she whispers against your lips, eyes falling shut. 

Time yawns again, freezing. Your eyes open, hers closed, beats of seconds pausing. Hesitating for you to hold this moment in your hands. You’re grateful to appreciate it because she really is so lovely. Her bangs are pushed back from her face with a headband – imagine that! Emily owns headbands! – and you can see every detail of her face. Her elegant nose, her slim eyebrows, her narrow, prominent, lips.

And then your heart finally catches up, beats loudly, cracks whatever fragile plane of glass holding the moment so perfectly still, and her lips are meeting yours. 

You gasp into her mouth, hands breaking out of her hold to grab her face. You’re afraid that she’s going to pull away before this kiss can be fully real. Before you can actually taste her – lemon cake and rain and warmth. Before you can memorize the feel of her lips pressed against your own before you can drag her closer and slip your hands into her hair. 

But she doesn’t pull away. She meets your enthusiasm with a sigh and then enthusiasm tenfold. You can feel relief in the kiss, feel how she relaxes into you. She takes a step forward and you take one back half the amount to account for it. 

A tilt of your head and it’s better, impossibly. She’s firm, sturdy, beautiful. Confident. Lovely, lovely, lovely. 

And then she reaches forward to hold you to her, hands brushing your ribs to wrap around your back and you can’t hold in the gasp of pain that causes you to stiffen. You want to take it back, want to ignore the pain, want to keep her near, but she won’t allow it.

“Oh, I’m so so sorry. Are you okay? I’m sorry.” You smush the apologies against her lips, removing one hand from her hand to guide her arms around your shoulders where they won’t hurt. “Okay! Okay,” she giggles, leaning back with several short kisses that do nothing to satiate you. “I need to know you’re okay.”

She can obviously tell she hasn’t hurt you too bad by your reaction, but the sweet caution in her voice has you melting further. 

“I’m perfect.”

[aemondwhoresworld]

I’M SO PROUD OF YOU, DADDY

pairing: dad!ewan mitchell x mom!reader ; husband!ewan mitchell x wife!reader

summary: a day without mommy at home, with lovely moments of ewan and elowen.

part of series: y/n, ewan and elowen mitchell

word count: 2,5k

warning: english is not my first language. fluff, sweet little elowen, ewan being a dad, etc

mae: it’s kind of long, i really want to make it as details as possible. also i’m currently obsessed with ewan being a girl dad, i just don’t know why, tbh i wanted to give him babies :)

fill THIS FORM to be add in my taglist 🌟 | you can discuss with me for this series through my ask ✨

As you finished putting on the final touches of your makeup, you heard the soft padding of tiny feet approaching the bedroom. You turned to see your daughter, Elowen, rubbing her eyes sleepily, her curls tousled from sleep. She looked up at you with a drowsy smile, still clutching her favorite stuffed dragon.

“Good morning, Mommy,” she murmured, her voice soft and endearing.

“Good morning, my love,” you replied, kneeling down to her level and pulling her into a warm hug. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded, her sleepy expression brightening as she noticed the hint of lipstick on your lips. “Are you going somewhere today?”

You smiled and gently brushed a stray curl from her face. “Yes, sweetheart. Mommy has to go to work today, but I’ll be back home later, okay?”

Elowen’s face scrunched up slightly, a mix of understanding and reluctance. “Okay, but can I come with you?”

You chuckled softly, kissing her forehead. “Not today, darling. But maybe next time, if it’s somewhere safe. Today, Daddy’s going to be with you all day. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

As if on cue, Ewan appeared at the door, leaning against the frame with a smile. “How’s my little dragon this morning?” he asked, his voice warm and playful.

Elowen’s face lit up at the sight of her father, and she ran over to him, her earlier reluctance forgotten. “Daddy!”

Ewan scooped her up effortlessly, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I was just about to make some pancakes. Want to help me, El?”

She nodded eagerly, all traces of sleepiness gone. “Yes, please!”

Ewan looked over at you, his gaze soft and full of love. “We’ll be fine here. Don’t worry about a thing.”

You smiled at the sight of them, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I know you will. You two are my everything.”

Ewan walked over with Elowen still in his arms, leaning in to give you one more kiss. “And you’re ours. Go knock ’em dead today.”

You nodded, feeling a surge of confidence. With one last look at your husband and daughter, you grabbed your bag and headed out the door, your heart full of love and gratitude.

As you stepped outside and into the car waiting for you, you couldn’t help but reflect on how lucky you were—to have such a loving family, to have a career that you were passionate about, and to be able to share all of it with the people who mattered most. Today was going to be a good day, and you knew you’d carry the warmth of this morning with you wherever you went.

After you left the house, Ewan and Elowen sat down to enjoy the pancakes they had made together. Elowen giggled as she drizzled extra syrup over her pancakes, while Ewan watched with a smile, happy to see his daughter so full of energy and joy.

“Daddy, these are the best pancakes ever!” Elowen exclaimed between bites, her face lighting up with happiness.

Ewan chuckled, ruffling her hair. “I’m glad you like them, El. You’re quite the little chef.”

After they finished breakfast, Ewan helped Elowen down from her chair. They both took their plates to the sink, and Ewan guided her through washing the dishes together. Elowen stood on a small step stool beside her father, her tiny hands barely big enough to hold the sponge as she tried to scrub the dishes clean. Ewan rinsed off the soap suds, making sure everything was spotless before placing the dishes on the drying rack.

Once the kitchen was tidied up, Ewan and Elowen brushed their teeth together. Elowen mimicked her father’s actions, standing on her tiptoes to reach the bathroom sink. Ewan made a game out of it, pretending they were brushing away “dragon breath,” which made Elowen giggle uncontrollably.

With their morning routine complete, Ewan decided it was the perfect time for a walk in the park. “How about we go on an adventure to the park, El?” he suggested, kneeling down to help her into her little sneakers.

Elowen’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Yes, Daddy! Can we see the ducks?”

“Of course,” Ewan replied, smiling at her enthusiasm. “Maybe we’ll even see some squirrels too.”

They both put on their jackets and Ewan grabbed Elowen’s favorite stuffed dragon, which she insisted on bringing along. Hand in hand, they stepped out into the crisp morning air. The park wasn’t far from their home, and the walk there was filled with the sounds of birds chirping and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

When they arrived at the park, Elowen immediately spotted a small pond where a few ducks were swimming. She pulled Ewan over to the edge of the pond, watching the ducks paddle around with wide-eyed wonder. “Look, Daddy! There’s a baby duck!”

Ewan crouched down beside her, his arm around her shoulders as they watched the ducks together. “I see it, El. Isn’t it cute?”

Elowen nodded, completely captivated by the little duckling. After a few minutes, she decided it was time to explore more of the park. They walked along the winding paths, stopping occasionally to pick up interesting leaves or watch squirrels dart up trees. Ewan made sure to point out anything he thought might catch Elowen’s interest, making the walk educational and fun.

As they strolled through the park, Ewan felt a deep sense of contentment. This quiet morning with Elowen was exactly what he needed—a chance to slow down, enjoy the simple things, and spend quality time with his daughter. He knew that these moments were precious, and he cherished every second of them.

After a while, they reached a small playground where a few other children were playing. Elowen immediately ran toward the swings, and Ewan followed, pushing her gently as she soared back and forth, her laughter ringing through the air. The joy on her face was contagious, and Ewan found himself laughing along with her, feeling grateful for these simple yet unforgettable moments.

Eventually, after playing for a while longer, Ewan noticed that the sun was getting higher in the sky, signaling that it was nearly time to head back home. “What do you say, El? Ready to go home and tell Mommy about our adventure later?”

Elowen, slightly out of breath from all the excitement, nodded. “Yes, Daddy! I can’t wait to tell her about the ducks and the swings!”

With Elowen happily chatting away about their morning, Ewan took her hand again, and they made their way back home. The morning had been perfect, and Ewan couldn’t wait to share the details with you when you returned, knowing that these little moments were what truly made life special.

After spending a delightful morning in the park, Ewan and Elowen walked back home hand in hand, both feeling refreshed and happy from their time outdoors. Once inside, Ewan suggested they do some creative work together, which Elowen eagerly agreed to.

"How about we draw something special for Mommy?" Ewan proposed as he set up the drawing supplies on the kitchen table.

"Yes! I want to draw a dragon and a castle," Elowen declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Ewan smiled, pulling out some paper and colored pencils. "That sounds like a great idea. I'll draw with you, and then we can color them together."

They spent the next hour immersed in their art, Elowen focusing intently on her drawing while Ewan sketched beside her. The room was filled with the quiet sound of pencils on paper and the occasional burst of laughter as they shared ideas and admired each other's work. Elowen’s dragon had colorful scales and a big smile, while Ewan drew a castle with tall towers, complete with flags waving in the wind.

When they finished their drawings, they both colored them in, adding vibrant hues that brought their creations to life. Elowen was particularly proud of her dragon, which she had named "Sparkles."

"Mommy is going to love these," Ewan said, holding up his finished drawing and showing it to Elowen.

Elowen nodded enthusiastically. "She will! I can't wait to show her."

After their creative session, it was time for lunch. Ewan guided Elowen to the kitchen, where he began preparing a simple but delicious meal. Elowen sat nearby, watching as Ewan chopped vegetables and cooked. She occasionally helped by handing him ingredients, feeling important in her role as his little assistant.

Once lunch was ready, they sat down to eat together. Elowen happily munched on her food, chatting about their morning and what they would do later when Mommy got home.

When lunch was over, Ewan helped Elowen down from her chair, lifting her gently to the floor. As her feet touched the ground, she looked up at him with a serious expression and asked, "Daddy, can I have a hug?"

Ewan’s heart melted at her sweet request, and he immediately knelt down to her level, pulling her into a warm embrace. "Of course, you can, El. Anytime you want."

Elowen wrapped her small arms tightly around his neck, holding him close. After a moment, she pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her expression earnest. "Daddy, I’m so proud that you’re my daddy."

Ewan’s breath caught in his throat, touched beyond words by her sincerity. "Oh, Elowen, that means the world to me. I’m so proud to be your daddy, too."

Elowen smiled, her eyes shining with love. "I know Mommy is proud of you too. She always tells me how lucky we are to have you."

Ewan felt a surge of emotion at her words, his eyes misting over slightly. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his voice soft and full of love. "Thank you, sweetheart. I’m the lucky one to have you and Mommy. You two are my everything."

Elowen hugged him again, and Ewan held her close, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the family he had. In that moment, he knew that no matter where life took them, the love they shared would always be the most important thing in his life.

After a few more moments of holding her, Ewan stood up, still smiling as he looked down at his daughter. "How about we clean up the kitchen together, and then we can play some more before Mommy gets home?"

Elowen nodded eagerly, ready for whatever adventure the rest of the day would bring. Together, they tidied up the kitchen, the bond between father and daughter growing even stronger with each shared moment.

As you walked through the front door, the familiar warmth of home embraced you. Almost immediately, you heard Elowen’s excited voice from upstairs. “Mommy’s home!” she called out, her tone filled with pure joy.

Looking up, you saw both Ewan and Elowen at the top of the stairs, holding hands as they began to make their way down to greet you. The sight of them filled your heart with happiness, and you couldn’t help but smile as they reached you. Elowen let go of Ewan’s hand and ran the rest of the way to you, wrapping her little arms around your legs in a tight hug.

You leaned down to scoop her up into your arms, planting a kiss on her cheek before turning to Ewan, who was now standing beside you with a warm smile. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his strong arms holding you close, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

“How was your day?” Ewan asked, his voice soft and filled with love as he kissed your temple.

“Better now that I’m home,” you replied with a contented sigh, leaning into him.

“Did you have fun with Daddy today?” you asked, smoothing back a strand of Elowen’s hair as she nodded sleepily.

“Yes, Mommy,” she said with a little yawn. “We went to the park and saw ducks, and then we made pancakes. And I drew a dragon for you.”

Your heart swelled with love as you kissed her forehead. “That sounds wonderful, my love. I can’t wait to see your drawing.”

Ewan gently took her from your arms, cradling her against his chest. “Let’s get you ready for your nap, little one,” he said softly, carrying her upstairs to her room.

You watched them go, feeling a deep sense of contentment. While they were upstairs, you headed to the kitchen, preparing yourself a hot cup of black coffee. Once it was ready, you made your way to the living room, sinking into the comfortable sofa with your mug in hand. The warmth of the coffee seeped through the cup, spreading a soothing heat through your hands.

A few minutes later, Ewan came back downstairs. He walked over to the sofa and sat down next to you, leaning back and letting out a soft sigh. His eyes were gentle, yet there was a hint of emotion there, something that made you reach out and place your hand on his.

“Is El giving you a hard time, my love?” you asked softly, your voice filled with affection and concern.

Ewan shook his head slowly, not replying right away. Instead, he took a deep breath, as if collecting his thoughts. “I almost cried today,” he finally said, his voice quiet but filled with emotion. “She’s just… she’s so sweet.”

You squeezed his hand gently, waiting for him to continue.

“She said she’s so proud of me,” Ewan murmured, his eyes shining with the intensity of the moment. “She just hugged me so tight and told me she’s proud that I’m her daddy. And she said she knows you’re proud of me too.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you felt your own eyes well up with tears. “Oh, Ewan,” you whispered, leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder. “Of course, we’re proud of you. Every single day, El and I are so proud to have you in our lives.”

Ewan wrapped his arm around you, pulling you even closer. “I know,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s just… hearing it from her, in that little voice of hers… it just hit me so hard. I never want to take these moments for granted.”

You nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. “We’re so lucky, Ewan. To have each other, to have Elowen… it’s everything.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close. “It really is,” he agreed softly. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.”

The two of you sat there in comfortable silence, the warmth of the coffee and each other’s presence filling the room. It was one of those moments where words weren’t necessary, where the love you shared was enough to communicate everything you felt. And in that quiet, peaceful moment, you both knew that no matter what challenges came your way, you would face them together, with love, pride, and the unwavering support of your little family.

taglist: @minami97 ; @hellsingalucard18 ; @champomiel ; @fan-goddess ; @xcharlottemikaelsonx ; @emyswagger ; @k1ttybean ; @callsignwidow

[vamphrrr]

%% tough love

in which the daughter of aphrodite is head over heels for the most ruthless warrior at camp, & all she can do is try to court her while simultaneously killing her.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; idiots in love, ooc clarisse?, pining on both sides, flirty & bold reader, flustered clarisse, tall & muscular clarisse / short reader (reader reaches her chest), fool clarisse (JUST SAY YES!!), bad flirting attempts (i’ve never flirted), a little bad since it’s my first oneshot srry guys

There she was, the most beautiful girl you had ever know. Tall, dark, strong and powerful in all her mighty glory. She was sparring with one of her brother’s, Lucas? you presumed. They’ve been at it for hours, Clarisse beating him almost every single time. But no matter how many times Lucas fell or almost got his head cut off, he would just not give up.

You needed him to leave already.

It was as if the gods heard your prayers, because one second Lucas had Clarisse cornered, and then the next she swung her spear with all her might. A woosh was heard, nearby leaves shaking and falling with how much strength she used. Her brother's weapon went flying, and so did he.

Oh gods, you thought, biting your lip to stop a giggle from escaping. I love women who could destroy me in a heartbeat.

You watched behind a tree as Lucas struggled to get back up, clearly dizzy from the hit he took. He wobbled a bit, and Clarisse realized he could seriously not stand up by himself. She leaned down, one arm on his waist while the other helped put his arm around her shoulder.

Lucas stood up successfully, and you were able to see that he slightly looked over at your direction for a moment. You gasped, quickly moving so that your face was out of sight. If he saw you, he didn’t make a big deal out of it, but oh, Clarisse sure did once he told her.

She immediately stood up straight, pushing her brother back down to the ground and whipping her head around. A thud followed by a groan was heard as she sped walked towards the tree you were hiding behind. Not knowing that she was getting closer, you twisted your body around, about to peek to where you thought she was. Although, that thought seemed to not go as planned.

“Ow!” you said, feeling your nose hit a solid wall. I don’t remember a wall being there.

A familiar huff was heard, causing you to stiffen. Looking up, you made eye contact with Clarisse who had her arms crossed, muscles bulging from the pressure. Sweat was still clinging on to her face, and you saw as a droplet of water ran down her neck.

She made dirt and sweat look beautiful.

“Oh, hey Clarisse!” you exclaimed, eyes turning pink, pupils dilated. “Fancy seeing you here!”

She raised an eyebrow, ears slightly burning when she saw your eyes change color. “Hm, I’m pretty sure you were stalking us. Unless… you were waiting to spar, princess?”

You smiled, twirling a strand of your hair around your manicured finger, watching as Clarisse got a little distracted with that move. Oh how you loved when she called you that.

“No,” you shook your head, leaning a little closer to her. “I just wanted to ask if you were free later today.”

Clarisse wasn’t surprised. Every week you would do the same thing: follow her around like a lovesick puppy, waiting secretly for her to finish whatever she was doing. Someone would notice you and tell her, teasing her about how she held the heart of an Aphrodite girl, to which she glared at. Then she’d turn around to see you standing there, looking like the prettiest flower in a field full of plain boring wheat. She’d walk to you, and as soon as you’d see her, your eyes would turn pink. Which was a very endearing thing that she’d be an idiot to not know what it meant.

“Like I’ve told you countless times,” she began. “I’m busy.”

Which was true. Unfortunately for you —and her—, your timing was gods awful. As the counselor of the Ares cabin, she was expected to lead the new and younger demigods on a weekly camp journey through the wild. That, plus the fact she was in charge of training clumsy kids, did not give her a lot of free time. And it seemed like you always had a knack for asking things at the wrong time.

You looked up at her through your eyelashes, pouting your lips a bit in what you hoped was a cute way. “Awe, I was really hoping to take you out on a date this time. You know, I heard the little lake by the strawberry fields is a really good place to make out.”

Clarisse gulped, leaning her shoulder against the tree, feeling her heart beat faster than normal. Gods, she could not believe you just said that.

These Aphrodite kids are a danger to society.

She cleared her throat lightly and composed herself. “Well that’s a real shame princess. I guess you’re gonna have to find out if that’s true with somebody else.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Don’t kiss anyone else.

You gave her a pretty smile, touching one of her forearms with your fingers, painted nails tracing her scars. “But I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”

Oh, I really hate you. Clarisse thought.

“A-and like I said,” she breathed out, cursing at herself for stuttering. “I can’t.”

She moved away from your touch, taking a big step back, hating for the first time that she was in charge of all her siblings. She’d get punished if she didn’t do her duties. But, would it really be that bad?

“Ah,” you let out, eyebrows furrowing a bit, immediately being replaced by your eyes brightening. “Well then, maybe next time!”

“I—” Clarisse started, not being able to finish her sentence because you swiftly turned around, walking away. She clenched her fists. If only you stayed for a little more while, she would’ve gave in to your date. Cursing at herself for being a good counselor and taking her duties seriously, she groaned loudly.

You heard her, practically smelling her regret. Smirking to yourself, you laughed, knowing the affect you had on her. Others might have given up, taking her constant “I’m busy” as a sign of rejection, but not you. You’re the daughter of Aphrodite, goddess of love. You know when someone wants you, you can sense it. And, well, every time you’re with Clarisse, the love and longing that she had for you was strong. You know she feels the same way. It’s just a shame that she’s always so busy.

Oh well, maybe next time.

[tender-rosiey]

Hi hope you‘re doing well!!! I wanted to ask if you could write a scenario with Gojo and fem reader where she‘s lying on the bed reading and he wants her attention and she just grabs him and let‘s him cuddle her while she‘s reading I CAN‘T STOP THINKING ABT THIS

used to it — gojo satoru x gn!reader

despite all your complains, huffs, and eye rolls, you never truly found satoru’s affection bothersome. in fact, you found it very endearing and cute how he can be so openly infatuated with you.

in the beginning, you thought that perhaps his theatrics were blown out of proportion. that while yes he did want your attention, he surely didn’t want it that much.

but you were wrong, so very wrong.

you remember that one time you had left early to get some groceries, leaving satoru in the bed alone. in your defense, you were going as quickly as you could.

“I gotta go back before satoru realizes I am not in bed!”

you underestimated him. because the very moment he woke up, he looked around for you, under the bed, in the cupboards, and even in the chimney. his brows furrowed when there was no sign of you.

he whispered, eyes going through the room once again, but to no avail, “yn?”

his lips quickly formed into a pout and he whined—loudly, “y/n?!”

you instantly got a call from one very sad gojo satoru who was whining and complaining about how you left him all alone to fend for himself for hours and hours on end. you had checked the time right after that.

it had been 20 minutes.

anyways, you’re not new to gojo’s massive need for love and affection. you can also proudly say that you learned how to satiate him while not troubling yourself.

let’s take today as an example.

the new volume of your favorite book had finally dropped. so you sent a text to satoru telling him that you would be busy for tonight.

of course, that is unacceptable in his book so he told you that he would go to your house after he was done with his mission.

you were able to finish a couple of chapters before he finally burst through the door, exclaiming, “the world’s most eligible bachelor is here!”

you send a small smile his way and swiftly continue reading your book. he pouts, sulky about the lack of attention, “babe?”

“mhm?”

getting a mic out from god knows where, he clears his throat and delivers the best performance of his life, “I want your love and I want your revenge—“

silently, you pull him into your arms.

satoru tends to forget how strong you’re—especially because of all the things you go through as a sorcerer—,but he happily buries his face in the crook of your neck with a smile plastered on his pretty face, “you don’t want me to serenade you?”

you chuckle, “not really, and with bad romance out of everything?”

he gasps, offended, “I will have you know that lady gaga is an absolute icon!”

with a roll of your eyes, you continue silently reading while resting the book on his back—you doubt it weights anything to him though.

a few beats pass before satoru gazes up at your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “how was your day, pretty?”

“good,” you murmur then you kiss the top of his head and push it back to your chest. he welcomes it before he slightly turns his head and mumbles, “okay, so I should shut up?”

a giggle escapes your lips as you nod and start carding your fingers through his hair. he hums, murmuring a small ‘i love you’, before falling silent once again.

you assume that he is asleep. a soft sigh leaves your lips as you hug him a little tighter and gladly continue reading your book.

a grin breaks out on your face; you’re finally getting to the good part!

you quickly turn the page and your eyes dart to the beginning of the page in unbelievable speed. a gasp almost escapes your lips as you realize that the character has—

“y/n, how many chickens would it take to be able to kill a lion?”

the character has had enough of the husband and is about to murder him in his sleep.

“I mean like have you ever thought about—wait, babe, I am sorry, don’t hurt me—“

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawings @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[melodyanqel]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ── ★ h.jh. (002. only you)

love at first sight happens between the police officer and a bright, innocent woman. they shared a deep connection that meant they needed each other more than anything, even when they experienced the same nightmare.

⤷ pairing: hwang jun-ho x fem!oc

⤷ genre/tags: fluff, angst, thriller, psychological drama, established relationship, team bonding, financial issues, games, action, betrayal, foreigner!soft!oc, protective!junho

⤷ warnings: smut! mention of masturbation

⤷ wc: 4.1k words

⤷ note: ahh this is my first time writing +18 parts and i hope it is decent enough lol. also i hit 200 followers! as a thank you here is a longer chapter ♡

⤷ melodyanqel taglist: @hwallazia @rubyredish @analysisiinternet @ilovebtsomgie

“I’m glad you are doing better. You look pretty with a smile.” 

Tough men can be soft, and that's no shame. Lily looks at Jun-ho with endearment. His ethereal side profile is straight out of a romance manhwa. She can admire for hours and never get tired. 

Jun-ho then stops at a red light and cranes his neck to look at Lily. His brawny hand takes her small, delicate one. “Even when I become mopy for no reason.” He draws a grin and she giggles with blushing cheeks. In response to his question, “Yes. I haven’t gotten sick of it.” She tightens her grip. Jun-ho raises Lily's hand to kiss her knuckles like a real prince. 

About another ten minutes, the couple arrived at Mrs. Hwang’s apartment. Jun-ho still lives with his mother and it’s common for people in this country to live with your loved ones, despite your age. Lily didn’t find it strange because she would’ve done the same if she couldn’t afford to move out. Plus, it’s great that Jun-ho is willing to care for his mother. 

He mentioned In-ho but never told Lily and his mother about what happened in 2021 or his sudden disappearance. However, Jun-ho did give stories about his brother before everything. They were all moments when they were kids. Even though they’re half-brothers, they bonded quickly like blood-related brothers. And there are times when Jun-ho misses the old In-ho. 

After ringing the doorbell, an elderly woman opens it for her son and his girlfriend. 

Lily smiles in delight. “Omonim!” She opens her arms and Mrs. Hwang doesn’t miss a second for a hug. “My dear! You’re beautiful as always!” She caresses the back of the younger woman’s head. “Thank you, omonim.” Lily thanked her. 

As they parted, Mrs. Hwang moved her attention to Jun-ho. He goes into her arms. “Hi, omma. Thank you for the birthday wishes.” He has to bend down to embrace his tiny yet remarkable mother. She tells him, “Of course. You’re my child and I’m not too old to not remember.” Mrs. Hwang is still healthy for a woman in her sixties. 

Her quips never fail to make the couple laugh. She does have some wit. 

Shortly, everyone gets inside the apartment. Like a magnet, Lily zooms into the kitchen and sees the delicious home-cooked food in containers. It’s also good because she doesn’t need to make or buy meals for the rest of the week. Jun-ho is also mesmerized by his mother’s cooking. 

“Wow, you outdid yourself, omma.” He commented. She pats his left arm and states. “Whenever it’s your birthday, I’ll spoil you.” Mrs. Hwang will continue to make him feel like he is the best in the world. Jun-ho chuckles and gathers the containers in the tote bag on the island. “I’ll let you know whenever I’ll be home.” He didn’t need to tell his mother because she knew he’d return. But he is still afraid of her scolding. 

“Okay. Enjoy your birthday, honey.” Mrs. Hwang kisses Jun-ho’s cheek. Lily watches the moment happen and it warms her heart. Then she felt something. “Let me go use the bathroom first before we leave.” She drank four bottles of water today. It’s summer and scorching hot. Lily scurries to the bathroom like a mouse. 

When she leaves the kitchen, it’s the mother and son together. Mrs. Hwang instantly asked Jun-ho. “Have you asked her yet?” She is eager to know if their family will grow bigger. Jun-ho sighs and shakes his head. “No, not yet. I wanted to do it on our second anniversary, but I wasn’t sure if her family would accept me. Especially her parents. I barely asked them last week and they welcomed me.” He confessed to his mother about his self-doubt.

She gives him a hopeful look. “Don’t be scared. I love Lily so much that I don’t want any other woman for you. If you do it tonight, call me.” Mrs. Hwang hugs her son and he takes it because he needs to calm his nerves. 

The sound of footsteps approaches them. Lily sees them hugging and she patiently waits for them. Jun-ho feels her gaze and he breaks away from his mom. He makes eye contact with his beautiful angel. “Ready?” He questions and Lily nods her head. 

Once again, she thanks Mrs. Hwang for the food. The couple said goodbye to her and can now have their little party. Jun-ho holds Lily’s hand as they head back to the vehicle. He takes deep breaths because he doesn’t expect to be nervous. Lily notices his touch is getting clammy. She reads Jun-ho’s body language and it concerns her. 

“Are you okay?” The petite woman inquired the tall policeman. 

He answers in short, “I’m good. I’m a bit exhausted but I have enough energy.” Thankfully, Lily comprehends and goes with the flow. Jun-ho is becoming a wreck, internally. It’s worse than his first day on the job. 

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

After a quick stop, it’s a relief to be back in the comforts of your home. 

Once Jun-ho enters Lily’s place, he sees the decorations in the small living room. A gleeful smile plays on his face when he reads a sign on the ceiling, above the coffee table. It says, “Happy Birthday Darling.” 

He also spotted colorful balloons on the floor, table, and couch. But the most prominent is the big Pochacco balloon sitting by the patio door because Jun-ho reminds Lily of the adorable Sanrio dog. Jun-ho closes and locks the door. He embraces his woman from the back to sprinkle kisses on her neck. He has been waiting all day to have intimacy. 

The man hears the beauty squealing from the affection. “I take it that you love my decorations!” She was taken advantage of by his hug attack. The only side of Jun-ho that no one will ever see, except for Lily. He presses one last kiss on her neck. “You did amazing. Let’s start our night.” Jun-ho will appreciate Lily until his last breath. 

He separates from her and excuses himself to put his backpack in her room. Jun-ho packed clothes, hygiene supplies, and a spare key to Lily’s apartment, in case she gets locked out or whenever he comes by. He unzips the front pocket to grab an item—a little box. 

Jun-ho knows he can’t be a coward because he promises his mother and her family that he’ll take their relationship to another level. He breathes in and out to ease the tension. Jun-ho puts the little box in his pocket and goes to his girlfriend. 

He leaves the room and witnesses Lily placing a heart-shaped vanilla cream cake on the dining table. It has “Happy Birthday Jun-ho” written in icing and hangul. She adds the candles and lights the wicks. Jun-ho is thirty-three. Whenever people turn thirty, they sometimes get worried because of aging anxiety. But Jun-ho is grateful to continue living. He fought for his life to wake up from a coma. 

Jun-ho walks over to Lily. She hears his footsteps and perks her head. An ecstatic smile rises on her lips. Lily sings him “Happy Birthday” in Korean and Jun-ho smiles ear to ear. 

“Happy birthday to Hwang Jun-ho! Happy birthday to you!”

Lily claps her hands cheerily when he blows out the candles. “Picture time! Go sit by your cake!” She runs to the island and takes her phone out of her purse. Jun-ho grins merrily and he obliges his lover’s demand. She comes back to snap hundreds of pictures. Lily once thought Jun-ho should sign up for modeling because his beauty is magnificent. She sometimes wonders how she got so lucky. 

They do look like the perfect couple—almost too perfect. 

“Are you done?” Jun-ho has been posing for a minute and getting a bit tired. Lily responds, “I’m done!” She sets down her phone on the table. It probably has no storage left. 

Out of the blue, her boyfriend asked her. “Should I tell you what I wished for?” 

Lily gives him a staggered expression. “No! It won’t come true!” She believes in the saying and he shouldn’t ruin it. 

Jun-ho then pulls out the chair to stand up. “My love. I do want to tell you something, though.” He gets her full attention. Lily watches him come to her. Sure. What is it?” she asked calmly, having no clue. Jun-ho purses his lips and takes both her hands into his. Courage—he truly needs it, and can’t turn back now. Jun-ho begins to expound. 

“You are the only woman in my life. I was hesitant to do this, but I realized you mean so much to me that I don’t see anyone else to make me feel alive and know what love is. I took the time to think about it with my omma and your parents about what I want my future to be like. I hope it gets fulfilled once I ask you a question.” 

His warm brown eyes are on hers and without looking away, he lets go of her hands. Jun-ho is down on one knee and pulls the small box out of his pocket. He hears Lily gasp and her chocolate brown orbs are glassy. She has tears welling. Jun-ho opens the box to reveal a silver ring with a circle diamond. “Will you be my wife, Lilymae Reed?” He finally asked the question. 

Lily nods her head earnestly as tears fall from her eyes. “Yes! Yes, Hwang Jun-ho!” She sobs her words. Jun-ho’s lips crack a big smile and he gingerly puts on the stunning jewelry on her left ring finger. He stands on his feet to gather a crying Lily into a big bear hug.  

“Oh, I have a gift from Bo-young!” She remembers the drawing. They parted and Lily took out the paper from her purse. She hands it to Jun-ho and he is truly fascinated. “Wow. She is wonderful. Tell her that I love it.” He kindly compliments the little girl’s artwork. Jun-ho believes and so does Lily, Bo-young has a crush on him, but it’s overall cute. 

His birthday will forever be his favorite day from now on. 

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

“So, is that why you’ve been acting weird?” 

Lily knew something was up with Jun-ho, but she didn’t question it. She slurps on the jjajangmyeon that his mother cooked. It’s like heaven in her mouth. Jun-ho is eating the same thing with dumplings. 

The silence breaks when he puts down his chopsticks and clarifies to Lily. “It did take me months to build the courage. So, around last week, I managed to talk to your parents and my broken English somehow made them understand that I need their blessings. I then earned it. I also told my omma and she was exhilarated because she wanted you and your family to join us, which I should tell her soon.” He must not break his mother’s promise. 

Jun-ho sees Lily crying again while chewing on her noodles. He couldn’t contain his laughter. His fiancé is too precious. Jun-ho reaches over to grab her left hand. His thumb brushes the ring on her finger. Lily finishes chewing and wipes off the tears with her right hand. 

She tells Jun-ho her thoughts. “I wished my family was here. I must thank them for letting you marry me because I am so grateful they accepted you. Also, your omma. I love her with my life,” Lily pauses and continues, “I’m looking forward to being her daughter-in-law.” That sounds odd but she’ll get used to it. Jun-ho holds her hand firmly. “I too wished your family was here. However, one day they’ll come visit South Korea.” He reassured Lily. 

“Yes, one day.” Her voice trails like an echo. 

To lighten the mood, Jun-ho suggests finishing dinner because he does want dessert. He has a sweet tooth just like his fiancé. Bumping into the bakery was either a coincidence or destiny. 

After devouring the delicious jjajangmyeon and dumplings, they had enough space for the vanilla cream cake. Jun-ho takes a piece with a fork and eats it. His dark brown eyes widen. “Wow! You did amazing!” He compliments Lily’s homebaked dessert. She smiles gaily at his cute reaction. “Thank you! You can have more whenever you want.” Lily learned culinary when she first started living by herself because she knows she’ll need it in the future. 

Her gaze lands on Jun-ho lips. She snickers and wipes off the cream with her thumb. “Don’t be a slob. I want to marry someone with manners.” Lily said in jest but she did mean it. Jun-ho then teases her by licking her thumb. She jolts and pulls away. “Yah! Don’t do that!” Lily glares at him with rosy cheeks. His eyes darken at the shy look she is giving him. Since when did Jun-ho become so seductive? Lily snatches the plate from him. “No more cake for you!” She chides and sets down the cake on the island. 

Jun-ho chuckles huskily and wraps his arms around her petite waist. She has her back against his broad chest. His cleaned lips are close to her ear. “I love you, my Lily.” He spoke in a much deeper and elegant voice. The shy woman slowly puts her arms over his and turns her neck to look up at him. Lily is staring at Jun-ho's strong, needy gaze. “I love you too.” She admits wholeheartedly. 

The man and woman move forward, touching their lips into a delightful kiss. 

In the end, they ate more of the cake because Jun-ho wanted it before going to bed. 

Midnight arrives, which means time to wash up and rest. Well, not for Lily. She is engaged and wants to do something more romantic and sensual. Indeed, Lily is the type to wait because she never experienced a serious relationship. She had a few boyfriends, but they didn’t consider her much. Jun-ho is different. He gives Lily consent and respects her. It’s also one of the many reasons she agrees to date him. 

Lily is in the bathroom while Jun-ho lies on the bed, scrolling through his phone. She looks at herself in the mirror and she is nervous. Lily wears a white babydoll slip dress. It’s see-through so her stomach and underwear are shown. Her brunette hair has no bows and her makeup is retouched. After deep breaths, Lily leaves the bathroom and sheepishly goes to Jun-ho.

He hears the door creaking, and instantly, he feels something and puts his phone on the nightstand. The love of his life is dressed all pretty and sultry. Lust begins to take over him. 

Jun-ho sees how shy Lily is when she steps closer to him. She reaches the bed and crawls to him like a vixen. It’s the first time Jun-ho is thrilled and fully aroused by a woman. Lily has the effect. He also had touched himself while thinking of her. She has the body of a goddess and her dulcet voice does things to him. Plus, her shyness makes him want to ravish her. 

Lily’s soft breasts sway when she goes to Jun-ho and he can see her folds being covered by a lace underwear. Her innocent yet lustful brown orbs and blushing cheeks are making him hard. Lily straddles his waist and her hands press Jun-ho’s chest. She feels a bit tingly from his strong gaze. His hands hold her perfectly curved waist. 

“Are you sure?” Jun-ho asked in a husky yet tender voice.

To his surprise, Lily nodded. “Yes. I want you.” She confessed to her future husband. A squeak lets out of her mouth when Jun-ho flips her. Now he is on top. His lips passionately kiss her plump rosy ones. Lily’s breath hitches when he forcefully sticks his tongue into her mouth. She wraps her arms around Jun-ho's neck to deepen it. Her tongue timidly licks his and he releases a dark chuckle.

Jun-ho pulls away with a sly smirk. “You look exquisite, my love. I didn’t expect you to dress like a slut for my birthday.” His filthy yet affectionate words have Lily covering her face with her hands and legs tightening around Jun-ho’s hips. Not to mention, her panty is no longer dry. 

“It’s embarrassing when you speak like that.” She has to get used to Jun-ho’s praises. She listens to the sound of him removing his shirt. He hovers into Lily’s space to remove her hands. Jun-ho’s smirk turns into a cordial smile. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll be gentle.” He gives Lily’s hands kisses.

They take it slow, finding new places to kiss, lick, taste, and bite. Once taking off her babydoll and underwear, Jun-ho appreciates her goddess-like body creatively, using his hands, mouth, and tongue. His lips move to her cleavage. Lily does the same to him. She runs her hands over his muscular body with sculpted abs and pecs. Her hands stopped at his sweats. She grips the hemline and looks at Jun-ho.

He lifts his eyes, “Yes, you may.” He says in a low voice. 

Now they’re both naked. Jun-ho sits up and pulls Lily onto his lap. She takes the time to admire him as if she hasn’t done that before. However, she has discovered beauty in her man. She gasps when she feels his cock, rises big against her ass. Lily feels her folds getting wetter because Jun-ho is undeniably beautiful. 

“Jun-ho!” She cried out his name when his mouth immediately sought an erected nipple, sucking greedily. 

He has been waiting to taste these adorable buds. 

Lily then moans loudly from his fingers touching her pearl. Jun-ho releases her nipple and speaks into her ear. “You’re so sensitive. I hope you can handle my cock.” He groans and continues to rub Lily’s twitching folds. She becomes a mess when his index and middle fingers slide inside. Her squeals and gasps are airy and high-pitched like a mellifluous melody. Jun-ho can feel her holding his shoulder roughly from the euphoria. His fingers move intensely. 

“I-I feel something. I-I d-don’t know.” Lily stutters as pleasure fills in her stomach. 

Jun-ho demands, “Cum. Cum, angel.” 

She does what he says. A loud, delicious moan escapes from her mouth. She can feel a cream substance explode from her cunt and onto Jun-ho’s fingers and abs. Overstimulated, Lily hugs him by wrapping her arms underneath his biceps to feel his sturdy back. Jun-ho gives her a moment to recover because she is twitching. His clean hand rubs her back. 

“Again, are you sure? I don’t have protection.” He is being cautious. Lily makes an effort to respond to him. “Yes, I’m ready. And I do have them in my nightstand drawer. Don’t ask.” Her cheeks burned and she felt his chest move up and down because he was laughing. 

Lily moves off of him as Jun-ho takes one condom and tears it open to put it on. He gently lays his woman on the bed and goes on top. “You can scratch and bite me if it’s too much,” Jun-ho reassures Lily, even though he’ll enjoy a bit of pain. 

A joyful smile graces her face. “Okay.” She is officially letting him have her body. 

Lily locks her legs behind his back, angling herself as he pushes through, inch by inch. She gasps, throwing her head back and whimpering in delight. Jun-ho moves with purpose, reveling in her as he gives her every bit of himself and listens to her gasps turn into throaty moans. Lily shudders against him, and he picks up her hips so he can hit that one place that’ll drive her wild. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.” Jun-ho is proud to worship what’s his endlessly. 

Her walls close around Jun-ho and he grips the sheets. Lily kisses his temple, crying against his shoulder as she reaches the cusp and orgasms. 

The lovers spent the night intertwined underneath the full moon. 

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

Golden rays of the sun ascended from the horizon. It’s the next morning and everywhere is quiet. 

Lily dug into Jun-ho’s chest, wrapping her like a blanket with his athletic arms. The sun begins to beam through the curtains. She grimaces when light shines on her to wake her up. Her chocolate brown eyes blinked open and she first noticed her sleeping fiancé. He looks so peaceful and cute. Not like last night. 

“You can take a picture, it’ll last forever.” 

Jun-ho’s deep, drowsy voice scares Lily. His eyes are still closed. She pouts, “I wasn’t looking.” A failed excuse that made him laugh in contentment. 

He opens those warm brown irises that she loves. Jun-ho plays a grin. “Good morning. Do you have any plans for today?” He asked and brushed her luscious brunette strands out of her face. Lily replied, “Yes. I’m having a girl’s day with So-eun. I forgot to mention she bought that dress for me and the condom.” A blush blooms her fair cheeks. Jun-ho laughs at her bashful expression. 

“Tell So-eun that I said thank you.” He receives a light smack from Lily. His outgoing fiancé gets extremely shy about intimacy or sex. It also makes Jun-ho fall for her more because she is so pure-hearted. 

Lily lets out a breath. “I need to get ready or she’ll blow up my phone.” She knows So-eun hates waiting and it’s understandable. Jun-ho buries his face into her face and whines. “Why must you go?” He sounds like an upset child. Lily didn’t think the almighty Jun-ho would be so clingy. 

“Don’t you have work, mister?” She giggles when he groans in annoyance. His grumpy side is amusing to her because he knows his chief will yell at him if he doesn’t show up. That man has no patience and is forever cranky.

It’s also the weekend, but Jun-ho picked up a shift to earn extra. The next day, he’ll go sailing, which he’d been doing since June, and can’t find the island where the game took place. “I take that as yes.” Lily does a little nudge but Jun-ho has no complaint. He feels her delicate fingers brushing his dark locks. If only he could stay like this for eternity.

No nightmares, no worries, and no complications. 

“I’m sure you’ll do great. If you need to vent, you can always come to me.” Lily has no problem being Jun-ho’s leaning shoulder because, in their future marriage, they need to express themselves. Communication has improved for them.

The man lifts his head from his love's hair to kiss her swollen lips. “Thank you. And you stay safe.” He gives her a direct reminder with love and care. Lily nods, “Of course. The same goes for you.” She hugs his neck and lays a little kiss on the side of her darling’s cheek. 

Afterward, Jun-ho is freshened up and puts on his uniform. He looks like he is getting ready for school, which is what Lily once commented and he does. 

Jun-ho stands in front of her full-length mirror to tie his tie. When he was a detective it was different. He wore regular clothes, a badge, and a gun holster. It was nice but he isn’t positive about going back. Guess road safety suits him better. 

Eventually, Jun-ho goes to the kitchen where he notices Lily is laying out breakfast dishes and two mugs on the table. She wears a plain white shirt, a jean skirt, and frilly socks. Her long brunette hair is up in a high ponytail. The sight makes his heart full because he gets to wake up to his beautiful angel every day in the future. 

Jun-ho approaches Lily and brings his left arm around her waist. “Good morning. The food looks divine.” His eyes land on the two avocado toast with over medium eggs. Lily smiles, “I used to eat these when I lived in America. It’s like comfort food for me.” She would share Jun-ho her childhood meals and it impresses him how tasty they are. 

“Well, I’ll be enjoying it.” He pecks her cheek as a thank you and sits down to devour the toast. Lily joins him and pushes a mug of black coffee into the center. “For you because you need your energy.” She figures he’ll have a long day. Jun-ho grins mirthfully because Lily knows him too well. 

He almost forgot to tell her something when it hit him. Jun-ho says, “My birthday wish is to marry the love of my life and it came true.” He sees Lily blushing with a big smile. She coos, “Aww. I’m glad that it’s happening. Also, tell omonim about it.” He did keep a promise and he shall commit. 

Jun-ho responds, “Of course. You know how my omma is. She had been waiting for it when I first entered my adulthood.” 

Lily's pink lips grow a blissful smile. "Omonim can be a bit nosy."

series masterlist | three

[pasdasin]

Wicked Game

wolverine x vampire!reader

an: can u guys tell im not working rn with the amount uploading! also currently working on ch 4! if you guys have any ideas feel free to send me stuff!! i <3 vampire!reader and wanna write more about her :3... also sorry if pacing is weird lol

ch 3

warnings: SMUT!!! fingering, erotic blood drinking, angst lol, prob like cussing lol, im sure there is more so just be warned in general, mdni lol

previous -- next

~~~~~

The proposition weighed heavily on your mind. A chance to return where it all started? You couldn’t stomach the thought. You’d have to ask Logan what he thought. He always knew what to say. You couldn’t dwell on it now, another task was at hand. You smoothed out your denim skirt for the millionth time and stared at your reflection. Nothing seemed appropriate enough. Nothing seemed right when it came to talking about your past. Two hundred and seventy-five years old and this was most nerve racking thing you’ve ever done.

talk in front of teenagers. 

Sighing you turned back to your closest when the door of your room slowly opened.

“y/n? Are you ready yet? My class is waiting” Storm entered your room. “Damn you look good! Honestly expected a full Bela Lugosi get up.”

“Very funny, but I am not a vampire.” You said, turning to her. 

“Okay yeah, and I don’t control the weather.” She snickered at you. She held out her hand and you grabbed it tightly, allowing yourself to be pulled through the halls of the mansion as the two of you giggled and talked friday night plans. 

The two of you reached her classroom and it seemed fuller than normal. You glanced around the room and noticed Logan standing near one of the walls closer to where you’d be presenting. You shot him a smile smile and he nodded back at you, causing your heart to race. You approached the desk at the front of the room and took a deep breath in. You could not only hear your heart pumping, but also every single person in that room. 

Turning around you smiled at everyone and sat sheepishly on the desk. You felt Logan’s eyes on you as you listened to Storm start her lecture. You glanced towards him and watched as he sent you a silent message.

You’ll be okay bub. I’m right here.

You turned back to the class and scanned the crowd. It seemed as though every single person was there, even though it was physically impossible. Your eyes zeroed in on Scott and Alex. Alex. Your mind wandered back to what Charles asked of you the previous night.

“I know you don’t do missions since the incident, but you could really benefit Alex.”

“I dedicated my life to medicine, and helping others. I cannot just leave that.”

“Just think about it okay? Its London afterall. Don’t think I don’t know about what the two of you did there”

You quickly glanced away and turned your full attention back to Storm. She was just about finished with her recap of the lesson plan. Her eyes met yours and she winked down at you. 

“Now that we have finished Dracula, I thought as a treat instead of a movie, we could hear about the real events from the person who inspired the book herself. This is y/n, your school nurse.” A small round of applause broke out as you stood up from the desk.

“Hi everyone! So yes I inspired Dracula, so please ask me any questions.” Immediately questions rang out towards you. Are you a vampire? How come you don’t sparkle? I thought vampires drink blood!

Typical questions that you usually got from new students that visited your office. You quickly answered them without even thinking about it. Alex raised his hand jokingly before asking you the question you dreaded the most.

“How exactly did you inspire the book?” You paused, silently remembering the events of the night. You felt a knot in your throat before you began.

“In 1895, I met Bram Stoker in a pub. He was strange but endearing. A flirt really, and I knew I was done for. In 1896 I confessed to him my mutation and how at that point I was twenty-five for fifty years at that point. He didn’t believe me of course and when I showed him my true nature, the book was born.” You paused, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “The dedication was for me, and one of the brides had my name at the time and my description. I left Ireland and headed for London after the town found out about it. That’s actually where I met Logan.” 

The rest of the class period was full of laughter and more questions about your life in general, but you easily avoided those. As your presentation ended, you thanked Storm for the chance she gave you and promised to get drinks in the future. She walked away from you as Logan approached, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“Good job bub. I knew you could do it.” You pushed his arm jokingly as the two of you started to walk out of the room, as Alex walked up to the two of you. Logan’s grip on your waist tightened.

“To my ever lasting beauty, an ageless angel, my queen of the dark. A book for your life. Wow you really made an impression on this dude. I didn’t realize you only dated what? Tall, dark and handsome. I’ll dye my hair ya know”

“Watch it Alex” Logan muttered, his claws starting to breach his knuckles.

“Woah big guy, I am just teasin. Anyways, y/n I heard the professor talked to you about Europe. What did ya think?” You made a face as you heard Logan’s blood race faster.

“I’m not too sure yet. I am still thinking about everything.” He nodded at your words before wishing you well and ignoring Logan. The two of you watched him walk away. 

“What the hell is he talking about?” Logan looked down at you, his face mixing into anger and confusion. 

“Lets go to my room okay?”

___

“What the hell do you mean a mission to London? And with him!” Logan snarled at you. You stared him down, not afraid of what he would do to you. 

“Calm down Logan! Its not a big deal I haven’t even decided yet!”

“Yeah I’m deciding for you. NO” He paced the left side of the bed as he muttered to himself.

“You don’t control me! I am my own person and I can’t die! Why don’t you trust me?” You felt your fangs push downwards in anger. If you weren’t careful you weren’t sure what would happen. 

“I don’t trust him. You won’t go and thats final.” His claws started to extend as he turned towards you. Fuck it.

The two of you lunged at each other and embraced as a tangle of limbs. Your lips crashed onto every piece of skin it met before you finally met his lips. He held you close to his chest and he messily made out with you, somehow managing to rip off your shirt, leaving in just the skirt and bra. His breath reeked of alcohol and his cologne filled your nose. The tobacco residue from an earlier cigar danced on his tongue as you deepened the kiss. You turned to straddle his lap, you pushed him down on the bed and, without thinking, you leaned down and sunk your fangs into his neck.

The warmth of his blood entered your mouth and the taste was euphoric. You continued your frenzy as you started to grind down on his growing erection. He groaned and panted as you nuzzled deeper into his vein. Your hot breath created a layer of pleasure to the holes in his neck and you pushed down harder on his clothed cock. 

“Please, fuck, don’t stop.” He choked out, moaning the last word. You didn’t think you could if you even wanted too. The taste of his blood made you whine in his ears as you picked up the pace of your hips, desperate for friction. His hand snaked down to your pussy, fingers slipping into your underwear and onto your clit. Your fangs sunk in deeper as he rubbed circles. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” He picked up the pace making you squeal from pleasure.

“Pl-ee-se-” You couldn’t think. The friction, his fingers, his blood. Without warning, you came hard on his fingers, allowing yourself to get lost in the heat of the moment.

Eyes half lidded you removed your fang from his neck and you looked down at the mess created. Blood stained the sheets, pillows, his shirt, and most likely everything else on the bed. Your mouth and neck was covered in a sheer layer of his blood. 

You snapped back to reality and realized what you had done. 

“Logan I’m- I can’t. I have to go.” Quickly you threw on a random shirt and left as quickly as you came, leaving Logan in the mess.

His neck already healing, his lifted his pants to stare at the mess left. Cuming in his pants was so middle school, but it wouldn’t be the first time this happened. Before being forced into the weapon x program, you fed on him regularly. Back then, your insatiable bloodlust wasn’t controlled, and he loved it. 

Trapped in the trance of euphoria, he didn’t realize you had gone. Slowly succumbing to sleep, Logan wouldn’t realize until the morning that you had gone. He ran through the mansion praying you’d still be in the confines of the walls. It was too late when he finally reached you. 

Watching as you left with Alex Summers to a mission to Europe. 

~~~~~

tag list: @captain039 @twinky-wink @fuckmachine42069 @honeybeedrabble

an: omg the drama!! also thank yall so much for ur support :3

[bruisedboys]

can I request steve x shy!reader where he asks her out? I could imagine him being totally smitten and she is just beet red, can’t imagine that king steve is paying her any mind!

summary: a lovesick steve asks out a shy you

shy!fem!reader 0.8k words

You’re staring at your shoes like they’re the most interesting thing on the planet. Steve thinks it’s cute. He’s totally endeared by your shyness. He strides over to you and sticks his foot out to tap your shoe with his.

“Hey you.”

Slowly you lift your gaze. You’re already flushed in the cheeks and all Steve said was hey. He feels slightly bad for what he’s about to ask, how shy he’s about to make you, but then again he doesn’t think he can contain himself very much longer. Not when you look this pretty. Not when you’ve been waiting outside Family Video for five minutes, because Steve had called you and told you he had something to ask you.

You lift your head and Steve gets to see your face kissed by the lovely golden sun, your eyes pools of colour in the light. You’re really pretty. It makes his heart stutter.

“Hi, Steve,” you say quietly. Steve likes the way your lips move around his name. Likes the way you speak it like it’s something special and not just a generic white guy name.

He grins at you. “Hi,” he says, even though he’s already greeted you. He’s feeling about as nervous as you look. He swallows. “How’s it going, hm? You doing okay?”

You wrinkle your face up and lift your shoulder in a shrug. It’s soft. And undeniably cute.

“I’m okay,” you say softly. You smile at him, cheeks all plump and flushed, and Steve thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the whole of Hawkins. Maybe the whole world.

His heart pounds but he’s already here, he can’t back out now. He smiles back.

“Good, that’s good,” he nods, and cards a hand through his thick hair. He realises a second too late he’s probably messed it up — he’d spent about ten minutes checking it in the Family Video window before this, and now he’s gone and ruined it. Somehow, he doesn’t think you’d care even if his hair looks like a nest right now.

“What did you want to ask me?” You say, mostly shy but a little curious. You’d wondered aloud, when he’d called you, why he couldn’t just tell you over the phone. Steve had answered that this was too important for a phone conversation, he’d come and see you after work. You’d come to him instead. It makes the whole thing all the more nerve-wracking for Steve.

“Right. So I was wondering,” he starts, but his voice comes out constricted and too-high. Smooth, Steve. Real smooth. He’s not going to be telling Robin about this. “Uh, I wanted to ask you.” He pauses. You look half terrified and half hopeful. “Would you maybe want to go out with me sometime? I think you’re really cool and I like you a lot, but, um. You can say no.”

His voice goes up at the end and he cringes internally. Definitely not his smoothest moment. You blink up at him owlishly. You look, not surprisingly, quite stunned. Like Steve’s gone and told you he’s from Mars. Your mouth opens.

“Me?” You ask, your tone hushed.

A laugh bursts out of Steve before he can stop it. It’s less of an amused laugh and more of a she’s-so-cute-are-you-kidding-me? laugh.

“Yes, you,” he chuckles, grinning like a fool, his cheeks aching with it. “Who else?”

You flush all over and duck your head again, go back to staring at your shoes. “Well, you know, I’m— I’m quiet. And you’re …” You gesture vaguely to Steve with your hands. “You’re Steve Harrington.”

“Sweetheart,” he soothes, and grabs your hands before he can psyche himself out. He wraps his fingers over the back of your hands and pressed his thumbs to your palms. Gives you a gentle squeeze. “Don’t be silly. I like you. I don’t care if you’re a bit shy. Everyone is.”

You look up at him. You’ve got this look on your face like you’re trying very hard to frown but a smile is winning. “You’re not.”

“Oh, yes I am,” Steve says indignantly. You make me shy, he doesn’t say.

You giggle at his tone and it’s probably the best thing Steve’s ever heard in his life.

“I don’t believe you,” you say, all smiles.

Steve sighs. “Whatever.” He drops your joint hands so they dangle between you and him. “So, what’s your answer?”

He already knows your answer. Already knows you like him just as much as he likes you. Maybe not quite as much. He likes you so much it makes him feel queasy sometimes.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, smiling like Steve has just told you you’ve won the lottery.

Steve feels a bit like he’s won the lottery himself, with you looking at him like that.

-

[disneyprincemuke]

santa baby * ls2

it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago

pairings: logan sargeant x platonic!femdriver

notes: hi i know i took forever to write this but uh what r u gonna do? ik u love me B)

| "wanna hang out?" | driver's parade | american burgers | american football | the thanksgiving incident | another williams adoptee | beating the heat | you’re embarrassing me | santa baby | the favourite driver | the situationship | it's nice to have a friend |

you hum, whirling around at the camera crew settling right by the front of the mercedes racing home. “ah, it’s that time of years again, isn’t it?”

“yes! are you excited?”

you nod with a smile as you see a box being pulled out of the cart they’ve been lugging around in the paddocks for the video. “have you seen the present? got any hints for me?”

“aw, we can’t do that,” she giggles. “where’s the fun in that?”

secret santa is the yearly affair that you find yourself looking forward to as the year progresses. it’s always the santa hat and the fun of guessing who’s gotten you what this year. what used to be a silly game of gag gifts when you first started out, is now an endearing event filled with thoughtful gifts that you keep on your shelf for years to come.

last year, max had gotten your name. he is very thoughtful with his presents. his present sits at the top of your shelf: a paper mache trophy he admitted that he made with penelope (you’ve met her and she loves you) deeming you his toughest competitor in 2022.

you’re curious to see who drew your name this year.

“oh! do i get to keep this one?” you giggle as she hands you a santa hat. you pull it over your head snuggly and clap your hands. “where is it?”

“here.”

a box is handed to you, wrapped neatly in a mercedes green paper. you squeal as you take it into your hands and carefully unwrap it. there is something about wrapping paper that is so incredibly delicate and worth keeping.

you carefully tear at the tape holding the seams and edges of the box.

“any guesses who it could be right off the bat?”

“it could be anyone at this point,” you sigh, shaking your head. “could it be max again? hopefully it’s not charles — who knows what he will give me.” you look up to the camera. “in secret santa terms, of course. he is actually a good gift giver.”

you tear off the wrapping paper, folding it up neatly before pinning it between your body and elbow. “okay. truth time.”

you pull the cover off the box and tilt your head at the array of presents sitting comfortably in mercedes’ coloured confetti.

“what did you get?”

“a ‘best mum’ mug?” you say, coming out in a slight question as you lift up the pastel green mug to the camera. “am i pregnant and somehow it’s passed me?”

you hear a chorus of laughter as you venture further, each of the presents somehow getting weirder by the second. “and a christmas card? seriously?”

you graze your fingers over the 3d design on the card with a small smile, reading ‘merry christmas!’ with a cute doodle of a christmas tree in the centre. “we’ve been instructed to tell you to read that after you get all the presents and guess him correctly.”

your eyes trail to the gold plate in the shape of a star.

“another trophy!” you shriek. you squint your eyes to read the inscription on the plate. you sigh and press your lips together into a thin line. you hold it up. “best grid mum. the spelling alone gives it away!”

you step forward and let the camera zoom into it, the inscription reading “best grid mom”. “logan’s my secret santa?”

“ah, rookie mistake with the spelling there, wasn’t it?” she laughs. “there’s one more gift. he told us to give it to you when you figure it out.”

somebody else reaches out with a frame in their hands. you take it into your hands and smile, a picture of you and logan sitting right outside the mercedes home together for lunch sits tightly behind the glass.

“this is so sweet!” you coo, one hand covering your red cheeks. “do you want me to read the card?” she nods. you open the folded card and read as you speak. “thanks for welcoming me this year to the grid. you’re the best ever. hope i get to race with you longer than just this season. love, your secret santa.”

you look up as tears well in your eyes, looking into the camera. “aw, you’re the sweetest, logan. don’t worry, i’ve already got a present for him this christmas.”

you point to the lens of the camera. “can i grab this thing real quick for dramatic effect?” he nods. you grab the frame of the lens and take a step forward. “james vowles, if you do not re-sign logan hunter sargeant, i know where to find you.”

@cashtons-wife

[spookydrreid]

Let’s Start the New Year Right

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

18+ minors DNI

desc: Spencer and reader get invited to a chill, casual NYE party. But things heat up right at the stroke of midnight.

cw: food mention, Spencer is a little awkward in the beginning, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex (in a bathroom)... Let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1667

...

“I can’t go dressed like this? People will laugh at me.” 

Spencer looks himself over in the mirror for the tenth time, running a hand down his sweatshirt. It was New Years Eve and you two weren’t doing anything too crazy, just spending time at your friend Andies house with a few others. She’d just bought said house and was desperate for you and the rest of your friends to see it. And what better time than New Year's Eve?

“They will not laugh at you. Andie said she wanted everyone to be casual and casual means jeans and sweatshirts,” you called from inside your closet. “And we’ll be out by the fire. You’ll be more comfortable like this. Trust me.” 

You peak around the corner to his portion of the closet, a small smile tugging at your lips. He looks cute, more dressed down than you usually see him. In fact, this is the most you’ve seen him in the past three weeks. Serial killers don’t take breaks, even during the holidays. So off he and the team went to bum-fuck-nowhere Alabama and missed Christmas.

It was disappointing to say the least. 

But it was his job, something he warned you of previously. However, it didn’t mean him missing important days didn’t hurt. But you sucked it up and smiled through it. Plus, it didn’t matter. He was home and he was safe. 

“I do trust you. But I don’t want to be underdressed.” He sighs moving to grab his tennis shoes, sitting on the little poof seat you insisted on buying. (And that he secretly loved. Not that he’d admit it.) 

You pull your hair out of the back of your sweatshirt, smoothing it down and grabbing a warm hat. “You won’t be. This isn’t like Rossi’s where we dress to the nines and get drunk on champagne.” 

You see him grin as he ties his shoes, a small blush rising on his ears. 

“Yeah he was sad we were coming this year. I, however, am excited we aren’t going. I have spent more than enough time with all of them. They’ll survive without me for a night.” 

You giggle, walking towards him and hugging him from behind. “Yes, baby, your friends will survive without you. You’re all mine tonight.” You kiss his cheek before straightening and checking your phone, “we should head out, sweetheart. Andie will be pissed if we’re late.” 

The drive to Andies was short, filled with Spencer's long winded explanation about why you and he bought your house at the ‘most perfect time’. You loved listening to him ramble, even if half the time he spoke gibberish. You were thankful you could google some of the super big words he used. 

The second you’re parked outside the house, big, beautiful and full of holiday cheer, you see Spencer tense. You’d think after six years together, he’d be more calm around your friends. They helped him with the proposal after all and he still has the group chat. The group chat where they send him memes he doesn’t understand. However, no matter the time, he isn’t the most comfortable with anyone but you. And more so in your bedroom. 

You find it… endearing to say the least. 

You reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it three times i am here. “Ready?” 

He squeezes back and nods, “I am… I think.” 

It’s all you need before getting out and never once letting go of Spencer’s hand. 

Andie stands at the door, smile on her face, two glasses of punch in her hands. “There is my best friend and her hot as fuck fiance!”

Spencer practically cringes at her words, never being one who could handle a compliment. Even if he was the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen. 

“Hi! Sorry we’re late. We had a late night. You know how it is, serial killers killing during the holidays. Dr. Reid forever having to save the day.” You pat his chest, looking up at him fondly. 

He loves when you look at him like that, eyes so wide, filled to the brim with love. He kisses your head and 

Andie fake gags, handing you the drinks in her hand. “Yes, yes. Get inside before we let the kitten out and before the cold air comes in.” 

You sip it, the vodka making your chest feel warm. Spencer looks down at the cup before looking back at you, “I can’t drink. Want this?” You nod, taking it and pouring it into your cup. “A-andie do you have water? Bottled? I don’t like sink water and fridge water tastes funny so bottled is better. Even though it’s not good for the environment.

“But it’s not really us that needs to worry. It’s the famous people who really pollute the envi-” 

Andie cuts him off, “Spencie baby, you don’t have to explain this to me. I have plenty of bottled water. Want a cold one or a room temp one?” 

Spencer curls his lips over his teeth, a small blush creeping up his neck, “cold is fine. Thank you, Andie.” 

“You’re welcome sweet thing.” She digs in her fridge and finds the bottle, handing it to him. “Now, time for a tour.” 

… 

It takes a good few minutes for her to show you both around the house, making sure she explains every single detail even down to the persian rug her current boyfriend bought her when he went to visit his mother. 

Spencer, of course, went on and on about this, that and the third. It was cute. 

But soon you were in Spencer's lap, staying warm by a fire and roasting a marshmallow while Spencer got the chocolate and graham crackers ready. You were two drinks and three shots in, happily buzzed but not even close to drunk. 

“You are so hot when you open chocolate. S’anyone ever told you that?” You say it quietly, not wanting to embarrass him in front of anyone. 

He smirks, using the top graham cracker to slide the toasted marshmallow off of the stick and smoosh it between the other cracker and chocolate. “No one has ever told me that. But there is a first for everything.” 

He takes the first bite before handing you the rest. You pout a little and he laughs. “You ate my smore! Not fair.” 

He kisses you, lips brushing over yours gently, “I will make you another when you finish that one.” “What happened to my shy boy? Getting bossy out here.” You smirk, knowing you’re pushing his buttons.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night when I fucked you into the mattress.” He says right in your ear, nipping at it slightly. 

You shiver, squirming in his lap. “You-you can’t do this to me. We can’t fuck here.” 

He kisses your temple, “there are four bathrooms here. We totally could. They all lock, I made sure.” 

Andie claps her hands, “ten minutes till midnight!” 

Spencer grips your thigh, “what a way to ring in the new year? Me buried inside you.” 

You cross your legs, trying anything to get some friction. 

“They’ll notice, Spence.” You look around, no one is paying attention to you, most of them sucking face with their dates.

“Oh baby, they won’t notice.” 

Before you know it, your pants and underwear are on the bathroom floor, and Spencer's face buried in your cunt. You bite your fist to quiet the moan. For some reason, it was extremely hot getting eaten out with the possibility of someone hearing you. But that didn’t mean you wanted to get caught. 

“So pretty bunny.” He purrs from below you. He pushes two fingers inside you, easily opening you up. He knows your body better than you do, making mental notes of every little moan, gasp, and sigh that leaves your lips. Because of this it isn’t long before he has you falling over the edge, somehow keeping your moans quiet.

“Time,” He asks as he stands, towering over you.

You check your phone with shaky fingers, “11… 11:50” 

Spencer pulls at his belt with fervor, pushing his pants down till they pool at his ankles. “Gotta keep you quiet for another ten minutes.” 

His lips are on yours, swallowing your moans as he pushes all the way inside you. He doesn’t waste time, his hips snapping against yours. His lips travel from your lips and down your neck, moving your sweatshirt to the side to suck hickies where no one can see them. 

‘Just for me,’ he’d always say. ‘Only for me.’ 

“Spencer, please.” How you manage to whisper it is beyond you. But it doesn’t matter with the way he’s moving. 

“Shh… I’ve got you, bunny.” He snaps his hips faster. 

Your second orgasm comes right at 11:58. And it isn’t long before you can hear your friends counting down. 

Ten.

“Fuck bunny. Feel so good.” 

Nine

“S-spencer…” 

Eight

His hand covers your mouth, muffling your growing moans. 

Seven 

“I know you don’t want to get caught.” 

Six 

“‘Specially not so close to midnight. Right?” 

Five 

You shake your head no. Eyes staying locked with his.

Four

A wicked smirk crosses his lips, his confidence growing. 

Three

“S’what I thought.” 

Two 

His thrust grow more and more sloppy and before long his head falls into your shoulder and his orgasm rips through him, spilling inside you. 

One

His kiss is hard, hands on the sides of your face while he makes out with you, riding out the rest of his orgasm. He’s panting as he pulls back, Spencer's forehead resting on yours. 

“Happy New Years, sweet angel.”

...

I hope you enjoyed! This is my first fic in almost a year. Im nervous to say the least lmao. I love you all ❤️