#he’d stay on my bed if it weren’t for the boys

[fanbasetwo]

Ꮺ . , CUZ YOU’RE MY HYPE BOY , L.CY !

PAIRING: bf ! anton × gf ! afab reader. SYNOPSIS: never in your wildest dreams had you dreampt of leaking at the wrong time but here you were, trying to hide the stain your period blood left on your bf's sheets—will you succeed? [REQUESTED] . . . . . . GENRE: fluff, fic, period talk & mentions of pain and blood obvio. WORD COUNT: 1.6k [LIBRARY] ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 sena’s note — this was such a cute fic to write, thank you to the anon who requested, ily <3

You wake up to a sharp, familiar ache in your stomach, and a groan slips out before you can stop it. The cramps are bad—bad enough to make you regret spending the night at Anton’s apartment. You weren’t planning on staying over, but it was late, and Anton, being the gentleman he is, insisted you shouldn’t walk home alone.

Now, though, you wish you’d just gone home. Because as the pain twists in your lower stomach, you have an awful realization.

Carefully, you lift the blanket and glance down, your heart dropping. There, on Anton’s spotless, white sheets, is a visible red stain.

Your period.

For a moment, you just stare at it, horrified, your cheeks burning. How could you forget it was coming? And of course, it had to happen here, of all places. Your hormones are already making you emotional, and now panic kicks in full force.

Anton is still fast asleep behind you, his soft breathing the only sound in the room. You glance back at him, guilt and embarrassment tangling in your chest. He looks so peaceful, completely unaware of the mess you’ve made.

Your mind races. What is he going to think? Will he be mad about his sheets? Annoyed that you’ve ruined his morning?

And yet, a small voice in your head reminds you of who Anton is—the same Anton who stayed up late helping you pick out groceries, who insisted on carrying your bag even though it wasn’t that heavy. He’d never yell at you. Right?

Still, you can’t shake the nerves. You’ve worked so hard to keep a good image in front of him—always put-together, always in control. And now this? How are you supposed to explain it?

Taking a deep breath, you sit up slowly, wincing as another cramp hits. You’ll have to handle this before he wakes up. You just hope he’ll understand if he finds out.

You’re so lost in your panicked thoughts that you don’t even notice Anton stirring behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close, but you immediately squirm out of his grip.

Anton blinks, rubbing his eyes with a sleepy confusion. The sun hasn’t fully risen yet, and the soft morning light barely fills the room. His brows furrow as he sits up slightly, his voice gentle and laced with concern. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You open your mouth, intending to brush it off, to say nothing, but the words catch in your throat. His gaze is too soft, too worried, and for a second, you freeze.

But Anton isn’t as clueless as you hoped he’d be. He pauses, his nose twitching slightly, his expression shifting. There’s something about the smell—unmistakably off. Not that he knows exactly what period blood smells like, but it’s… different. And it’s coming from you.

Before he can say anything, another gush of blood makes your stomach twist, and you bolt from the bed, rushing toward the bathroom. Your heart is pounding as you shut the door behind you, barely holding back tears as you glance down. Your underwear and pants are already worse than before, and the humiliation hits harder than the cramps.

You lean against the bathroom counter, trying to steady your breathing, but all you can think is: How am I going to face him now?

Anton isn’t confused—he’s just worried. The moment you shut the bathroom door, he glances down at the bed and notices the fresh red stain on his pristine white sheets. He doesn’t hesitate. Getting out of bed, he approaches the bathroom door, softly knocking as he hears the faint sound of your sobs.

“Baby, talk to me. Do you need anything?” His voice is gentle, filled with concern.

You try to keep it together, forcing out a shaky, “I’m fine,” from behind the door.

But Anton isn’t buying it. After a brief pause, he knocks again, his voice a little quieter this time. “I… I kept a packet of pads in my drawer. You know, just in case… so… you can…”

He trails off awkwardly, and you can easily picture him standing outside the door, scratching the back of his neck, trying to give you space but wanting to help.

You wipe at the tear slipping down your cheek, your embarrassment still overwhelming. “Do you… have them right now?” you ask hesitantly, your voice small.

“Yeah.”

“Okay…” You take a deep breath. “I’ll open the door. Oh gosh, this is so embarrassing.”

You crack the door open just enough to let him hand the pad through. Anton doesn’t try to look inside, and you snatch it quickly before shutting the door again. But as you glance down at your ruined underwear and pants, another wave of frustration and helplessness washes over you.

“Um…” you mutter, hesitating before you call out again, your voice shaky. “My panties and pants… they…” You trail off, staring at the bloody mess.

You groan, more to yourself than to him. “Why does it have to be me? God!” The urge to yell is overwhelming, but before you can spiral further, Anton knocks again, his voice soft but steady.

“Here,” he says, slipping a pair of boxers and shorts under the door. “They’re mine, but, um, the boxers are an old pair—probably a little smaller, so they might fit okay. And the shorts are loose, so…”

You stare at the clothes, his thoughtfulness surprising you. He adds quickly, “Oh, I put the blanket in the wash. Don’t worry about it. And… if you want me to, I could wash your panties and pants too—”

“PLEASE NO!” you blurt out, horrified. “IT’S DISGUSTING, EVEN FOR ME!”

Anton flinches on the other side of the door, your sudden outburst making him fall silent. “Okay,” he mumbles, his tone a little sheepish, before retreating to give you space.

As you get yourself cleaned up, you can’t help but replay everything in your mind, the humiliation bubbling up again. But underneath the embarrassment, a tiny flicker of gratitude lingers. Anton may have seen more of you than you’d ever intended, but his calm, gentle way of handling it makes you feel just a little less alone.

You’re not sure how much time has passed as you stand in the bathroom, rinsing the blood from your panties and pants. You know you’ll eventually need to properly wash them later—leaving them would just make the smell worse. The memory of an old, similar experience leaves you determined to clean up the mess as best as you can now, even though the situation still feels mortifying.

After finishing, you take a deep breath, shoulders slumping as you step out of the bathroom. Your hands are thoroughly washed, but guilt still weighs heavy on you. You can’t help but feel like you’ve ruined Anton’s peaceful holiday morning with this mess.

Always causing trouble, you scold yourself internally.

But the soft, refreshing smell of lavender in the air pulls you out of your spiral. Glancing around, you spot the faint flicker of a lavender-scented candle melt on the nightstand. He must have lit it to make sure you didn’t feel self-conscious about any lingering smells.

Your chest tightens, warmth blooming where shame had been moments ago. Why was Anton so thoughtful? So gentle? You couldn’t help but fall for him a little more.

“Baby,” his voice calls from the other room, breaking your thoughts. You turn, finding him standing near the bed with two plates in his hands. “I made us both—woah.”

His jaw drops slightly, and you follow his gaze, realizing you’re still wearing his shorts and boxers. They’re a bit oversized, sitting loosely on your frame, and suddenly you feel self-conscious.

“What’s that?” you blurt, quickly trying to divert his attention. Your eyes land on the plates in his hands.

“Oh, this?” He holds them up slightly, a sheepish grin on his face. “I cooked for us… since you’re on your… ehm, periods.” His cheeks flush slightly as he finishes, his voice awkward but endearing. It’s clear this is all new to him, and you realize—you’re his first girlfriend, and this is probably the first time he’s ever dealt with something like this.

You blink in surprise, glancing at the plates again. Eggs, fully cooked, sit neatly on them. It’s not perfect, but it’s not runny either. You know how much Anton struggles to cook, so this feels like a small miracle.

The realization of everything he’s done for you hits hard. He didn’t just stop at replacing the sheets or lighting the candle—he even attempted cooking despite his lack of skill.

Your chest swells with emotion, and before you can stop yourself, you wrap your arms around him. Anton flinches slightly, caught off guard with both plates still in his hands. You bury your face in his chest, mumbling, “You don’t think I’m weird?”

Anton tilts his head, the corners of his lips twitching into a small, innocent smile. “I just think you’re fertile.”

The sheer absurdity of the statement makes you laugh, even as a tear slips down your cheek. He’s so clueless yet so sincere that it’s impossible to stay embarrassed.

You pull back, wiping the tear away as he teased, “I love you, but I’d appreciate it more if you forget the stain and instead praise this chef.”

Anton smirks, watching as you plant a soft peck on his lips. He doesn’t even get the chance to pull you closer, both hands still occupied with the plates. The warmth of his love and efforts almost makes you forget the dull ache in your stomach.

Even if your cramps are still there, maybe surviving this morning with your boyfriend’s cooking and his genuine care will be enough to make the pain feel a little less overwhelming—even if his cooking turns out to be a bit of a disaster.

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[dreamdragonkadia]

Helllooo me again 😉

another idea i had was maybe comfort for percy after tartarus nightmares. Again mortal reader and her not really understanding but still supports him unconditionally.

Or her writing a love letter for him in full greek since she knows it's easier for him for his birthday and him just loving her for it. And maybe a sally cameo and just her seeing her boy being in love and being loved inreturn

Or annabeth meeting mortal reader and her just being a protective best friend and seeing mortal reader carrying ambrosia for percy and how loving their relationship is and annabeth giving her approval

Again no pressure !!

If you need any ideas I'm definitely your girl

Have a lovely day/night

That first idea is just so cute, so don’t mind if I do!! 💕 If you ever have more ideas or little prompts, don’t hesitate to send them my way—I live for this kind of stuff! My inbox is always open for suggestions, thoughts, or just a chat. Hehe, thank you for reading! p,jackson x mortal!reader

It was strange, something you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. What could press so heavily on Percy’s mind that it haunted his sleep? The way he would jolt awake from a nightmare, his chest heaving like he’d been running for miles. Or how his body twisted and turned in bed, as though he was trying to escape something terrible in his dreams. Then there were the times he cried. Silent, heart-wrenching tears that you’d catch only because you stayed awake longer than you should, reading by the dim light of a bedside lamp.

Those nights, you were always there for him. You didn’t understand what plagued him, not fully, but you didn’t need to. The scars of his past, invisible though they were, weren’t something you needed him to justify. You never pushed him to talk about it if he wasn’t ready.

There were moments you’d try, cautiously, to ask. “Do you want to tell me about it?” you’d murmur, your voice as soft as the moonlight filtering through the curtains. And when he withdrew, retreating into himself like a tide pulling away from shore, you let it go. You held no grudges for his silence. Instead, you’d gather him in your arms, his head tucked beneath your chin, and press kiss after kiss to his hair, each one a quiet assurance that you were there. Your fingers would trace slow circles on his back, a rhythm that said everything you didn’t have the words to express.

It didn’t happen every night, but it happened enough. Enough that you noticed the pattern. Enough that you knew something dark clung to him—a scar so deep it refused to heal. There was one night, though, when he muttered something in his sleep, his voice broken: Tartarus.

You didn’t ask him about it the next day. You wanted to. God, you wanted to. But the fear of prying too deeply, of pulling him into memories he wasn’t ready to face, held you back. Instead, you let it sit, another piece of the puzzle you didn’t need to complete to love him.

And then there were the good nights. Nights when his soft laughter filled the room as the two of you lay tangled on the couch, watching bad movies and eating burnt popcorn because he always left it in the microwave too long. Or when he’d ramble about the ocean, his eyes lighting up like the waves under the sun, and you’d find yourself smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.

You knew the nightmares were part of him, but so were these moments. And maybe you couldn’t chase the monsters from his dreams, but you could be his anchor. You could remind him, in the quiet of the night and the brightness of the day, that he wasn’t alone. That whatever Tartarus was, or whatever battles raged in his mind, he didn’t have to face them by himself.

You’d remind him, with every whispered word, every gentle touch, every second spent by his side: he had you. Always.

[polkadotpenguin16]

Subtle Hints

Fills the Only 1 Bed square for @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo 2024

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: smut (that might be a strong word for this—smut lite?)

Word count: 2K

Beta'd by: @misscharlielulu + @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity

A/N: my Christmas present to you – my first attempt dipping my toes into smut! I’m very much a beginner writing in this genre, and want to improve my skills so I can do my saucy ideas justice. So please bear with me as I’m learning <3

Also posted on AO3

Today was your first holiday spent with Sonny’s family. While you’d already met his parents and sisters individually, this was your first time fully immersed in the Carisi clan. Sonny wasn’t worried about it, but you were irrationally concerned about making a good impression. It was important to you that they thought you were a good match for Sonny. 

His sisters seemed to like you, and his nieces and nephews thought you were pretty cool. But you had a hard time getting a read on his mother. She was cordial, smiling whenever you chatted. But her demeanor seemed guarded, if not a little cold. Definitely not the enthusiasm you’d hoped for. But you were dating her one and only son, her baby boy, so her trepidation was not unexpected.

It was getting dark outside, and the snow was falling much harder than forecasted. Because of the late hour and the unfavorable weather, Sonny’s parents offered to let everyone stay at their house for the night. When Mrs. Carisi divvied up the rooms amongst all the guests, somehow, the only one left for you and Sonny was Gina and Bella’s childhood bedroom. Which you wouldn’t have minded, except for one thing…

Gina and Bella had shared bunk beds.

Mrs. Carisi tried to play innocent. “What do you want me to do? It’s the only bed left. You wanna sleep in the closet?” But you strongly suspected this was her not so subtle way of hinting that she didn’t want any out-of-wedlock shenanigans happening under her roof.

You and Sonny entered the bedroom, dumbfounded how you found yourself in this situation. The walls were covered in pastel floral wallpaper that reminded you of the 80s. Next to the closet sat a well-worn oak dresser with scuffs along the side—probably from having the closet door slammed into it. The window was adorned with pink striped curtains that appeared to have been homemade, perhaps by Mrs. Carisi. And at the back of the room stood the dreaded set of bunk beds. 

The closer you got, the smaller the beds seemed. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” Sonny rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He’d like to say he was surprised, but this honestly wasn’t even the craziest of his mother’s antics. “I, uh, I could go talk to Ma…” he trailed off as he glanced at you hesitantly, looking for you to tell him what to do next.

You thought about it for a split second, but the defeated look on his face told you that Sonny didn’t want to fight with his mom tonight. “No, it’s fine. It’s just for one night, anyways.” As utterly silly as this was, you were still worried about making a good impression with his mother. You thought there was the slightest chance you’d earn her respect if you went along with this madness.

Relief washed over Sonny’s face. He made a mental note to thank God at Mass tomorrow for blessing him with such an understanding girlfriend. He looked back at the bunk beds, reminded of the uncomfortable night ahead of him. With a deep sigh, he accepted his fate. “Okay, roomie, which bunk do you want?”

“Which would you be more comfortable in?” You wanted to be mindful of his size. You weren’t necessarily tiny, but certainly smaller than him.

His eyes darted between you and the beds before gesturing to his lengthy frame. “Babe, it’s not gonna make a difference.”

“Well…” A wicked smirk crept onto your lips. “I’ve never slept in a bunk bed before.” You mischievously climbed up the ladder to claim the top bunk as yours.

Sonny rolled his eyes, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t charmed by your childish spirit. “Alright, doll, you can be on top tonight.” You glared at his immature joke, but desperately tried to suppress the warmth rising in your cheeks. “Why don’t you get down from there so we can get ready for bed?”

Sonny stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, offering you his dress shirt to sleep in. He had worn his blue and white polka dot one, which was your favorite on him. You shamelessly held the shirt to your face. Breathing in its musky scent, enjoying the warmth still clinging to the fabric.

While getting ready, you turned to see Sonny struggling as he tried to squish himself into the bedframe. He regretted he hadn’t taken you up on that offer to join your yoga class. He bonked his head against the wall and jammed his knee into the bedpost. Too exhausted to be fighting a literal piece of furniture, he resigned himself to sticking his feet off the edge and resting his arm on the floor.

Swallowing your giggles, you tiptoed to the bed, kneeling to look at a very defeated Sonny. “Are you going to be okay down here?” You had to whisper otherwise you’d bust out into a cackle.

“Oh, yeah, just like a five-star hotel.” At least he was able to fit his sense of humor in there.

You exchanged “I love yous” and a quick kiss, then you climbed up to your own bunk. It took a minute of tossing and turning, but you found a comfortable position for the night.

Fifteen minutes later, you were on the edge of sleep when you heard Sonny let out a disgruntled groan. The bed started to shift. Before you knew it, Sonny was up the ladder, crawling into your bunk.

“No, no, Sonny! What’re you doing?” You quietly tried to shoo him, afraid he’d break the bed. Ignoring your protests he tried to squeeze in beside you.

“Doll, it’s cold down there,” he whined. You knew that was a lie. Sonny, true to his name, radiated heat like the sun. He was never cold.

You playfully tilted your head and raised your eyebrow. “You sure you weren’t just lonely?”.

Sonny was grateful the darkness hid his boyish blush. It was an awkward dance trying to get you both to fit. Giggles erupted as your legs and arms tangled together. Eventually, Sonny pulled you on top of him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You curled up under his chin, finally settling.

You tried to fall asleep but were distracted by the gently snoring man beneath you. You felt enveloped by his warmth, intoxicated by the smell of his cologne. You knew this was quite possibly the worst time and place to be horny, but you couldn’t ignore the heat growing in your belly. You needed to relieve the tension, so you slowly ground into Sonny.

You felt a groan reverberate in his chest. “Doll, whatcha doin’?” His voice was low, thick with sleep.

“Well, you were complaining about being cold.” You ground your hips harder into his, hoping he would get the message.

Sonny’s laugh was cut off by a wanton moan. He slowly tightened his hands around your hips. You felt him growing hard beneath you.

Your message was clearly received.

He gently flipped you onto your back. “You're gonna be the death of me, ya know that...possibly literally.” He looked over the side of the bed, gauging how far the ground was.

He knew this was a bad idea. But you were so effortlessly beautiful laid out beneath him, wearing nothing but panties and his shirt. His desire for you had been building all night. Watching you blend in so easily with his crazy family, strutting around in your green party dress. He’d barely been able to keep his hands to himself. Now, hovering above you, his resolve was quickly slipping away. Your skin was soft under his fingertips, and he could smell remnants of your gingerbread perfume. You felt like the perfect Christmas present—handpicked just for him, waiting to be unwrapped. How could he resist?

He pulled you into a searing kiss. You kissed him back with the same intensity, rubbing your hands up and down his back. You moaned into his mouth, louder than you’d intended. Sonny shushed you, reminding you that you had to be quiet. You carefully peeled Sonny out of his undershirt. A goofy smile spread onto his face as he watched you struggle against the fabric. He realized how juvenile this was, but he was enjoying every minute of it. He looked deeply into your eyes, feeling the closeness he’d been desperately craving the whole evening.

He balanced himself on his forearms, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible. He hiked up your shirt just enough to gain access to your chest. He gently massaged your sensitive breast. His calloused fingers dragged gently against your skin and across your nipple, making it harden beneath his touch. You gasped as you arched your back to meet his hand. The whimpers coming from your throat were nothing compared to Sonny’s.

He enjoyed giving you pleasure infinitely more than receiving it.

He tried to ignore the burning in his shoulders. But suddenly his muscles gave out, throwing him off balance. Making a split-second decision to avoid collapsing on top of you, he tumbled over the side of the bed. He landed with a comical thud that echoed throughout the silent room.

“Sonny!” you whisper yelled, as if you hadn’t just awakened the entire house with your raunchy escapades. You quickly climbed down to check on Sonny where he lay groaning on the floor. “Are you okay? Is anything broken?”

He propped himself up on his elbows, taking stock of his body. “Besides my pride?” Wincing as he rubbed the back of his head. “I think I’ll live.” You kissed his forehead. Thankfully, the bed hadn’t been that tall, so a serious injury was unlikely.

As you sat on the floor looking up at the bunk beds, a thought popped into your head. “Hey, Sonny?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t we just put the mattress on the floor?”

Sonny’s face went blank at the realization. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips tightly. He groaned in frustration as he laid his head back on the floor, and you busted out into a fit of giggles. You pulled the mattresses off the bunks and lined them up next to each other on the floor. You couldn’t help but feel incredibly stupid that you hadn’t thought of this in the first place.

Well, hindsight is 20/20…or about 5 feet off the floor.

You cuddled up under the blankets, much cozier on the floor than in the beds. Sonny’s eyebrows were laced together deep in thought.

“You doing alright, sunshine?” You brushed the hair away that had fallen into his eyes.

His face relaxed under your touch. “Yeah, I’m just wondering why I couldn’t be the favorite child.” You shook your head in amusement, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Bella would never have been asked to share a bunk bed.”

You scooched in close to teasingly whisper in his ear, “That’s because Tommy popped the question.”

Sonny threw his head back and laughed so hard, you worried it would wake up the house yet again. “Ya trying to tell me something, doll?”

“All I’m saying is maybe some new jewelry could get us better accommodations next year.” You wiggled the fingers of your left hand.

He took your hand and lovingly kissed each of your fingers, pausing before your ring finger. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You snuggled deeper under the covers, happily entangled together. You closed your eyes, playing back the evening’s events in your mind. It was certainly a night you wouldn’t soon forget. You wondered how big the lump on Sonny’s head would be. Or if maybe you’d be engaged by next Christmas…

And how to explain all of this to his mother in the morning.

[james-p-sullivan]

i cant believe i haven’t uploaded this yet, i got a package from the wonderful @blackstarchanx3new and ive been so excited about it

this little guy is just the cutest thing ive ever seen, its a dark link plushie he made me and i love him so much!! he sewed all of it himself and he’s sooooo soft, he hangs out with toon link on my zelda shelf

he also sent the coolest stickers and pins/key chains!!! he even sent two of each sticker because he knows i have commitment issues with stickers 😭

the nutrition facts on the back of the keychains made me laugh 😂 and this one is my favourite, look at my boy gengar!!!!!!!!!

its like a little popsicle 💜

and if one plushie wasn’t enough he also sent me a horsea plushie because he remembered i said it was a childhood favourite of mine 🥰

she’s so soft!!!!!

he also fed me with my fav snacks (there was also a Reese’s pack but i ate that instantly lmao)

and then there was also a super cute sketch of my favourite boy ❤️

i had such a good time opening this up and absolutely love everything ❤️❤️❤️ dark link looks perfect sitting on my bookshelf and im very excited to find the perfect spots to put my new stickers ☺️

thank you so so so much, ill treasure my new little guys forever! i love them and love you so much! you’re amazing!!!!! :)))

[pathologicalreid]

wavelength | s.r.

in which your son ends up in the hospital on one of the BAUs busiest nights of the year

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (hurt/comfort) content warnings: child in hospital with unnamed illness, seizures, pregnant!reader, boy dad!spencer, MRIs, head injury word count: 1.96k a/n: this is my little reid family from three's a family, but as usual, you don't have to read that one to understand this one. (it's one of the cryptic pregnancy ones so maybe keep that in mind lmao) - welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda, i missed it

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your thumbs enough to press the call button, tapping the green icon, you press your phone to your ear, listening to the rings as you keep your other hand on the bed in front of you.

Sniffling, Leo holds your hand in his much smaller one, “Mama?” His voice is little more than a whine, and you find yourself wishing he’d fall asleep while you wait for his turn in radiology.

“Yeah, lovey?” You whisper, squeezing his fingers gently as he looks at you with sad eyes.

His eyes were sad in a way that only a three-year-old’s could be, not quite understanding why he had to stay in the hospital, and continuously asking for his parents. “I don’t feel good,” he mumbles, his voice soft as he shifts on his side in the hospital bed.

Your shoulders slouch ever so slightly, trying not to show him how much of his displeasure you shared, “I know. I’m so sorry.” They were holding off on giving him more medication, but it just made him miserable.

Starting to wonder if they could just give him something to help him rest, you distantly hear your name being called, taking a moment to be confused before you remember that you called Spencer.

“Hey,” you greet a little breathlessly, “Are you working?” You move your hand, smoothing back Leo’s hair in an attempt to coax him to sleep.

You hear a shuffling of papers on the other end of the call, answering your question well enough before he responds verbally, “We’re just trying to finish a few things up before calling it a night.”

Bowing your head, you sigh, “Right, you have that senate review next week.”

Spencer groans at the reminder of the meeting, “And finding some of these files is proving to be difficult. I think Garcia’s just about had it, but we’re all starting to get to that point. Why the call? Not that I’m unhappy to hear your voice,” he clarifies. “Did Leo get to sleep alright?”

You falter slightly knowing that Spencer is already stressing about work, “Honey,” you start softly, “Leo’s alright, but I had to call an ambulance for him about an hour ago.”

“What happened? You said he’s alright?” He asks, fear changing the pitch of his voice.

Swallowing thickly, you watch Leo continue to fight sleep, his brown eyes watching you while you’re on the phone. “They think he had a seizure,” you whisper, keeping your voice down so that your son doesn’t catch onto your anxiety.

There’s a shuffle of papers on the other end, “Is he sick? Was it a febrile seizure?”

“Uh, no, hold on,” you flip through the pamphlet, “They called it a drop seizure when we were in the emergency room, and they did an EEG.” You explain, reading over the papers in front of you for the nth time.

Spencer talks to someone else in the room, hopefully letting them know that he has to leave, “What happened?”

Tears prick your eyes, and you look up into the fluorescent light to will them away, “I was just getting him ready for bed, and he went to go potty, and he just fell. He hit his head on the tub and I just… I panicked,” you admit the last part. “I was not very collected, and the 911 operator knew that,” you tell him, watching Leo’s eyes finally fall shut.

“I wouldn’t have been either,” Spencer assures you, “What hospital did they bring you to?”

Rattling off the name of the hospital, you risk assuming that Leo’s asleep enough for you to step back, enabling you to speak at a higher volume, “Can you leave work?” You weren’t even thinking about how busy the BAU was when you called, you were just thinking about getting Leo his dad. “They want to do an MRI, and he’s allowed to have someone in there with him, so he doesn’t get scared,” you explain.

“But you can’t,” Spencer needlessly reminds you.

A huff of frustration escapes your lips as you look down, eyes focusing on where your shirt catches on the soft swell of your lower belly. “No, I can’t,” you say miserably.

A nurse walks through the door, sparing a pitying glance at you, the pregnant mom whose toddler was in the PICU, before checking on Leo’s vitals. Spencer clears his throat, “I’m already on my way.”

You lose track of time, sitting in the reclining chair that lives in the corner of the PICU room, and memories of Leo’s first month of life start to flash in front of your eyes. He was a thirty-two-weeker, and he spent twenty-nine days in the NICU before coming home for the first time.

You felt like a failure then, and you feel like a failure now.

Tapping your fingers on your belly, you watch Leo sleep, his body curled up on the hospital bed and collodion stuck to his forehead. You remember finding out you were pregnant again, the overwhelming joy that mixed with the stunned fear like oil and water—Spencer had to remind you to breathe.

Something caught your attention, a small, high-pitched beep from one of Leo’s monitors sent a group of people flying into the room, standing around your son and listing off things that your fear-addled brain couldn’t comprehend.

He’s there when you stand up, Spencer stays at your side for all twenty-one seconds of Leo’s second seizure, watching as strength returns to his tiny body and his eyes open, “Mama?” His small voice calls out for you, afraid of being surrounded by doctors and nurses that he doesn’t know.

Slipping away from Spencer, you make your way back to the hospital bed, hovering over your son as you cup his cheeks affectionately, “I’m here, baby.” Hiding your face to wipe tears away, your fear that he still feels ill is only exacerbated by the fact that he doesn’t insist that he’s not a baby—he’ll always be yours, though.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you let him see past you, the way his eyes light up at the sight of his father, “Daddy!” He chirps, trying to reach out for Spencer.

“Hey, buddy,” Spencer says, his voice tight while he crouches in front of Leo, “Mama says you don’t feel good.”

Leo shakes his head, “I hit my head,” he recounts mournfully, “then we had to go in the loud car.”

Your husband frowns for a moment before he realizes Leo’s talking about the ambulance, “Did they tell you I get to go with you to get your tests done?” He warps the narrative to make the MRI seem like a fun activity—something they get to do.

“Can mama go?” Leo asks, tilting his head to the side slightly, leaning into you as he does so.

Gently, you wrap an arm around him, dressed in a pediatric hospital gown with all kinds of wires and electrodes attached to him. “Mama has to stay up here,” Spencer breaks the news to him, sparing you a sympathetic glance, “but she’ll be here when we get back. Then, we can tell her and the baby all about it.”

The baby won’t be able to hear outside voices until you’re much further along, but when Spencer tried to explain that to your toddler, the only response he’d gotten was Why?

As it turns out, even Spencer Reid has a limit to the number of questions he can answer, so you let Leo talk to the baby. “I’ll be right here when you get back,” you reassure Leo, taking a shaky breath when he wraps his arms around you.

He’s in tears by the time they come to get him, only willing to go to radiology if they let his daddy carry him there.

You’ve let go of the hope that this was all just a freak incident, but the looks that the nurses have started exchanging squashed that optimism immediately. Taking the opportunity to lie on the hospital bed, you try to reassure yourself—if Spencer didn’t seem worried, you shouldn’t be worried.

Though Spencer wouldn’t show his concern to you, he certainly wouldn’t do it with Leo in the room.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by something being set on your side, your eyes cracking open just enough to watch Spencer lay Leo down on the bed next to you. “Hey,” Spencer whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I was trying not to wake you up.”

Cringing at the brightness of the room, you watch Leo as he curls into your side, “How did he do?”

“He was great,” Spencer says, gently ruffling the sleeping boy’s hair. “He fell asleep about halfway through,” he informs you, carefully pulling a chair up to the bedside.

You hum, making sure Leo is snug in his blanket before turning back to Spencer, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner.”

Spencer shakes his head dismissively, “It’s okay,” he whispers, mindful of the hour—it’s nearing midnight now.

Reaching a hand up to cover your mouth, you hiccup a sob, “I’m a bad mom.”

“You are not a bad mom,” Spencer responds quickly, peeling your hand from your mouth and taking it in his hand.

Your lower lip quivers, “This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been born so early.”

Spencer’s face softens, squeezing your hand comfortingly, “That wasn’t your fault. That was a situation that you didn’t have any control over.”

Deep down, you know he’s right, but your mom guilt that was on the surface level made the truth hard to see. “I couldn’t even hold his hand while he got an MRI,” you cry, small tears falling from your eyes.

“Honey,” Spencer murmurs, carefully wiping the tears from your cheeks, “You’re pregnant. Even more, you’re high risk,” Spencer reminds you as if it’s something you’re soon to forget. “There’s no way I would’ve let you in that room. You can blame that on me if you’d like.”

Leo shifts next to you, garnering your attention for just a moment before you turn back to Spencer, “I thought an MRI was better for pregnant women.”

Sighing, Spencer looks at you fondly, “Compared to a CT, an MRI is the better option if it’s medically necessary. Logically, I’m well aware of this, but I do find myself more protective over you these days,” he admits, eyes flickering down to your bump.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I should’ve been watching him before he hit his head.”

Your husband dismisses your concern immediately, “We’ve been teaching him privacy, he’s proud that he gets to go potty on his own.”

“Why won’t you let me feel guilty?” You ask, frowning at him.

He hums in response, “Because you aren’t guilty. Your baby is in the hospital, and you might have some unresolved issues from when he was in the NICU.” He takes a deep breath, “and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re tired, and you have a lot of conflicting emotions and hormones that you’re struggling with.”

Leaning your head back on the pillow, you sigh loudly, “You know me too well.”

“I also know that our son loves you, and what happened tonight was not your fault,” he reiterates. “Whatever is going on with him, we’ll figure it out, okay? The four of us are going to be just fine.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nod in understanding and listen to the soft whistle of Leo’s nose as he exhales. “We’ll be just fine,” you echo, intertwining your fingers with Spencer’s and preparing yourself for what’s bound to be a long night.

[sleep-0-deprived]

I literally am lovinggg your stories! Especially the yandere ones omg. I usually hate the yandere trope but yours is just so yummy. What about a yandere Logan, him being jealous over his “best friend” hanging around Scott a little too much����

Ambrosia (Yandere Logan x male reader) ~! ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒

WC:. 2.5k

Tags: jealous sex, gay sex, slight praising, Yandere themes dark content and gaslighting ect! Blow jobs (reader receiving) pet names, biting, mating press, Logan is a lil mean but with good intentions, anal creampies, little bit of cum eating, slight feminization, Logan obsessing over your scent, dirty talk(referring to readers hole as a cunt) <33

A/N o’m gosh! I love your page it’s designed so cute and I’m obsessed with your writing, specially Logan! I always see you in my notifs and I appreciate you’re likes sm ,I never see enough male reader posts on this man and I’m goin feral over here~ ໒꒰ྀི˃ ⤙ ˂ ꒱ྀིა

It was no surprise to anyone in the x mansion that you always cling to a man like Logan, you were anywhere he was, or the other way around and some people being storm and Scott always tried to warn you how unhealthy it was for the two of you but gosh if you weren’t just a naive man.

Logan would just murmur out “they don’t know a thing doll” while his hands massage your thighs keeping you to himself all hours of the night in his bedroom and that was just fine by you after all this was normal friend behavior right?….he just cares a lot is it!

In the current weeks though, Dr. Xavier had put you on more missions with Scott and occasionally Jean, and Logan was dead set that professor X was against him thinking he was trying to pry you away from him that they were trying to steal you away. Logan would be damned if any of them got to have you, after a long day with Scott you and Jean coming back from a mission you were approached by Logan. “Can you stay with me?…I’m having nightmares again and I really don’t wanna be alone..”

His head drained down to your neck looking over at Scott with narrowed eyes as he spoke in a gruff and mighty convincing tone to you having you all wrapped around his pretty claws practically humming you and massaging your crotch through your jeans getting you to his bedroom leaving a pissed off Scott looking right at you “he never listens to me dammit! I told him he needed to start getting more independence from Logan!” He yelled over at Jean in a hushed whisper

“we can’t make him learn, they are both as codependent as eachother and in a unstable way they are like the perfect storm” Jean just shook her head and turned on her heels heading down her own hallway to her room leaving Scott taking one last glance at Logan’s bedroom door shutting behind the two of you before he himself just headed off to his own room.

“Why are you spendin s’much time with Scott these day…? Do you not like being around me anymore angel?” He’d coo to you his hand reaching between your thighs gripping your cock kissing the back of your neck making you shiver. “Mh—no it’s not that Logan- never”

you’d just whine as he undoes your belt pushing you back down onto his best and slipping his thumbs under your waits band getting your boxers off you. “Of course you wouldn’t would you doll? You’re just a sweet boy” he murmurs gently stroking your inner thighs with your uniform shirt skin tight with the leather hugging each and every plump curve of you w/s waist.

“Yeah I promise Lo, I promise—“ you can’t help but for him like a puppy chasing its owner with your cock leaking a slick mess against the black leather of your shirt driving you insane feeling torn rim rubbing all against his bed sheets, “I know you mean well darlin, think you deserve a reward?”

He lets one of his claws break the skin on his knuckle and traced up your red cockhead. His face dipping clutching at your thighs with a sense of infatuation looking up at you like some god with his chocolate eyes never leaving yours when he pressed a wet kiss against your tip removing his hand off your thigh and holding it still taking one big lick up the side of it.

“Take me more, just a little more Logan, c’mon” you instinctively buck your hips on the bed arching your back just wanting to grip his head and make him deep through you, your brows inching together and the zipper of your shirt feeling to tight with your heated circumstances leaving you unzipping and stripping for him.

“Goddamn angel! you’re like sugar on my tongue doll” suddenly you were his ambrosia, he picked up his pace and took your cock fully into his mouth deepthroating letting his tongue slip licking at your balls while you sit on the edge of the bed reaching your hand down gripping his hair tightly while me massages your thighs with his claws poking out of him like some feral dog breathing in your scent nuzzling his face into your groin making you feel his shaggy beard.

“Lo, I’m getting there- oh fck~!” Your back arches instinctively leaving your pecs pressed upwards to the trailing having rapidly as a sweat line builds up on the arch of your back. “That’s it, just let go for me I’ve got you baby”

his hands gentle up on your thighs feeling your cock start to twitch on his tongue like it was doing laps desperate to explode feeling and rating your bitter ropes shooting him in the throat while he just reaches his work worn hand down to your balls cupping them making sure he milks you good when he looks up at you.

The sensation overwhelming you losing torn grip on his head feeling your cock fall flat when his mouth leaves you bare again, “shh, you did so great angel, so fucki’n perfect it’s pitiful” Logan grumbles and gets up off his knees gripping you up softly by his standards holding York hips letting his claws leave red marks as he slides you up further on the bed with his signature smirk showing off his pretty canines.

“Need you right now Lo….i need you so bad” a broken whisper floods your mouth looking up with a pout presented on your lips when his hand reached around his neck pulling off his war tags, undoing them and reaching down putting them over your head “here, I wanna see you clutching those while I stretch that cunt out” he murmurs right in your ear and leaves you no time to think.

His hands spreading or cheeks apart spitting right in your rim watching it wink at him “you’re all wet like a sopping pussy aint’cha angel” his thumb rubbing your rim pushing it in open making you squirm but his other hand holds your hips down into the bed leaving you a mess with your cock getting hard again and weeping lonesomely between your thighs “add another” you spoke unsatisfied ranting meow already after the sensation of something inside you felt good

“Of course doll, wanna please this greedy hole” his thumb gets replaced with his index finger going in knuckle deep and curling up before he adds a second finger and scissors you with his eyes sole set on your face. “Is this better than Scot? You let all guys get their fingers inside this lil cunt?” His breath halts crossing the line of pure and utter infatuation feeling his cum flavored breath against your rim kissing it as he fingers you.

“Course not Lo! Only let you stretch and touch this..only you” your back arching holding the bed sheets feeling his fingers curling deep enough to leave you breathless when his finger pads rub that bundle of nerves, “I think you’re ready for the real thing, think you’re ready sweetheart?” His voice softens up a little seeing that fragile line of weakness you were tight lining when you laid out and splayed out for him like some pretty doll— no, His pretty doll.

“Yeah, I’m all ready I’m ready Logan” your words slur out drunk off of arousal with a pearly bead of precum rolling down your shaft looking up at Logan biding back your own tears not wanting to wake anyone else in the X-mansion when his fingers slide out of your puckered rim and his other hand slips to your hip grabbing them and pulling you backwards to him.

“It’s gonna hurt for a bit, promise I’ll go as slow as you want it baby boy..” his hands grip his belt buckle and unbuckles it pulling down his pants and throwing them somewhere in his room leaving you batting your lashes at the large bulge in his jeans protruding begging to come out as you try to calm down clutching the name tags around your neck.

“Fuck Lo- c’mon please” your voice whispering his name out like it’s your only prayer trying to get his boxers down with his thighs before he pulls them down leaving his cock standing eager and tall against his stomach with a prominent vein going up the curved side nearly having your mouth water when he spreads your thighs apart opening you up and holding your legs to the mattress letting his cock nudge and nuzzle between your cheeks while he looks down at you clutching his Wolverine tags.

“Just stay nice and quiet, don’t want Jean to hear you moaning…not yet alt least” he hums starting to nudge his tip inside past the gummy rim of muscles watching how it stretches, how the light in your eyes go glossy, how your pupils go wide like a cat when he stretches you—he’s already about to come just from that stupid little look on your face, oh the things you do to him.

His head droops down like a hound shoving his face in your crook holding you down to the mattress with your thighs gripped and wide apart slowly bottoming out into you “dammit doll, it’s like she’s purrin, does this little cunt like getting stretched?”

He groans biting your Adam apple pinching the skin between his canines stripping you of little gasps while he stays mounted on you leaving your cock sandwiched between his hair covered abdomen while the head board creaks when he pulls out a little and shallowly slams back inside you making your hole go wide burning from the sensation leaving your hands shaking clutching onto his tags hanging on your neck like they were prayer beads.

“Right there Lo, c’mon little more oh!” Your jaw slacking up under him going wide eyed when his cock drags along your inner walls pulling nearly all the way out to his tip and shoving back inside leaving you out of breath. “Shh, stay quiet baby doll, doin so good so far- don’t wanna have Scott seeing you like this”

his voice comes out like a choked growl letting his claws come out a little again shredding his own bed sheets while he buried his face further into your neck nibbling and sucking on the bite marks taking in deep whiffs of your scent making you swear his cock was pulsing every time he took a breath in,

“Smells so good baby, such a sweet doll” his hips start circling around and shoving forwards between your thighs letting his spit make for lube with your cock stuck against your belly button covered in Logan’s saliva while you reach your free hand to the back of his hair letting his beard leave red marks on your s/c skin.

“Lo-gan t’much, can’t take it Lo” your voice strangely from your lips letting your eyes gloss over and roll back when his cock head presses bullying your prostate making your rim feel like fire around his cock when he stretches you over and over bordering a painful pleasure. “Don’t say that angel, my pretty boy can take it all can’t he?” His voice speaks pressing sloppy wet kisses against your neck watching your face and how your fingers trembled to clutch his tags.

“I’m tryin Lo, I really am~!” You squeak your feeling your thighs go numb from being gripped tight and shoved to the bed not feeling his thrusts let up once. Logan’s hips start to stutter a little leaving you feeling his cock piercing you and keeping you spread as he slips his hands further up your legs moving from your inner thighs moving under your knees and shoving them to your chest allowing him to reach a deeper angle inside you.

“I know you’re tryin, doing so fucking well, just lay there and spread wide f’or me darlin” he grunts letting you feel how rigid his breath is dampening his beard with his drool licking up your neck mounting you hard leaving you beneath him feeling his body weight with a small huff removing one hand off your legs keeping his left hand under your knees holding them to your chest before he reaches around and gives your cock a firm grasp at the base making you arch.

“Oh~ I’m close Lo- I’m— gon’Ah” your voice cracks in half breaking into shards when your glossy eyes finally spill over with tears of pleasure leaving your ears ringing clamping and twitching around his cock feeling your base shudder under the rough hand cumming all over your own thighs and chest laying fucked out “look at’cha squirting all over yourself angel”

he heaves making your feel every buck and jerk of his hips with his mouth slipping upwards biting at your bottom lobe fucking you into the headboard.“Where do you want it sweetheart? Want it in your tummy or that pretty little mouth of yours hm?..or maybe all over them pouty lips” Logan whispers in your ear leaving his hot breath cooling the drool on your neck making it harder to speak just letting go of his hair trying to point at your belly trying to urge him inside.

“Nuh-uh baby doll, good boys use their words don’t they” he mocks you a little letting go of your softening cock to grip your hip with one hand and holding your right knee up to your chest letting your other leg hoop around his hip and bring him closer. “I wan’it inside me Lo- please inside”

you plead over and over going breathless when you finally feel the pudgy cock head pulling against your prostate letting you know what came next, white streams spewing all through your body making your feel like a little furnace under him while his grip loosens and his muscles tense up holding you steady looking up at you kissing away the tears on your cheeks growing more and more insane over you, enjoying how your skin held its afterglow and how your curves felt beneath him.

“There, there baby, don’t cry, lemme hold you…not letting you go [name] I’m never gonna” your heart skipped at those words never understanding he really meant them, only thinking he was trying to be all sweet to you when his hands leave your body letting his claws pull out of the mattress they were buried in as he crawls from between your thighs pulling out nice and slow with a slick pop.

“Logan” you wanted to tell him you needed more and you really would’ve if the feeling of his chin on your shoulder blade and the arm snaking around your waist from behind didn’t shut you up. “I know sweetheart” the only words that left his lips as he pressed a kiss to Your sensitive skin leaving the air field with a mutual understanding lingering in the air while he holds a you like he’s about to have you ripped away, his embrace tight and firm but holding a world of comfort to your used up body.

[cherry-leclerc]

true temptation ☆ cl16

genre: sainz!reader, humor, nnn (mommy, i can explain), smut, fluff, whipped!charles, established relationship

word count: 2k

Your boyfriend makes a decision to participate in NNN, but immediately regrets it when he realizes just how difficult it is to stay away from you. 

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...car sex, riding, fingering

req!... probably the longest drabble i’ve done so far, but i hope you all enjoy! 

“You’re never going to last.”

The Monegasque’ eyes challenge you as you stand there unimpressed, hands on your hips. It had all started with him barging in on you and calling an ‘emergency couple’s meeting’.

Pacing the room, he goes back and forth, mumbling slowly, as if creating a plan up in his head. As far as you’re concerned, he was never going to actually do it. The man was obsessed with you. 

“Have a little faith in me,” he groans, hands brushing his hair back in despair. 

His so called - ‘emergency’ -  was that he would be taking part in No Nut November. No kissing. No sex. 

Or anything remotely related to it.

Walking up to him, you pat his chest. His hands find their way down to your waist, doe eyes staring back up at him.

“I will… But I’m going to make your head spin.”

-

He started off strong. He even felt a bounce in his step when he entered Ferrari Hospitality; he swore he felt like he was walking on sunshine. 

“You’re actually doing it?” 

Joris, too, had no hope for his friend. He had seen the way the green eyed boy would cling onto you as if it were the only thing he knew how to do. The way he talked about you, even when you weren’t around. 

“Oui. Why? Do you not think it’s a good idea?”

His friend tilts his head to the side as he thinks about it for a minute. “Not sure. All I know is that your and Pierre’s bet on who can last longer is never going to end up good. You can’t even go a single second without kissing her!”

“He said he could last longer than me? I have to prove him wrong….” His mind slips over to the last part. “I can live without her kisses for a month. It’ll be fine.”

The Ferrari driver makes his way to his team, properly analyzing what faults his car had and how he can make the best out of it. Frustrated, Charles rubs his eyes. 

“I will do the best I can, but I can’t promise a podium. Not with a car like this.”

Taking notes, Xavi nods as he walks away. “Hi, Xavi!” The sound of your voice instantly makes him ease up as he searches for you. His jaw goes slack.

“What are you wearing?”

Smiling wide with eyes crinkled, you rush over to him. “It’s only a dress.”

But it wasn’t just a dress. He knows you did it on purpose, wearing the little black dress he had last fucked you in. It’s the way it fans your thighs as the wind gently teases anyone passing by. 

“You’re supposed to be on my team. Are we really going to let Kika and Pierre win?”

Rolling your eyes, you tippy toe, naturally about to kiss him, but stop yourself before you do. He frowns. 

“You are sooo right!” You comedically screech as you slap your hands against your cheeks. “I do want us to win! Forget the kiss, my mistake.”

He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. 

“You’re a fucking nightmare.”

-

He’s a week in and he’s finally starting to lose his grip.

“You’re sweating buckets, mate,” Daniel points out as he lets out a loud laugh, doing a muppet dive. Charles unbuttons his collared shirt. 

“It’s the heat, it’s the heat.”

The Aussie furrows his eyebrows and he raises a hand up to feel the air. Light breeze. Shivering, you strut over to your boyfriend. 

“Can we leave? It’s getting too cold.”

And he hates the way that dress clings onto your body, your figure being completely shown off. Nothing but dirty thoughts have entered his mind from the moment he first saw you. 

“Sure.”

Kicking off your heels, you throw yourself onto the bed, face first. Shooo tirefff, you mumble against the sheets. He purposefully takes a seat across from you, knowing he’d be tempted to cross the line if he didn’t. 

Tossing over, you reach out for him. And he’s about to turn you down, but he notices the way your nose is painted pink - your cheeks, too - and soft, tired eyes meeting his. His heart melts at the sight. So, he reminds himself that a hug with his girlfriend is nothing bad.

Climbing onto his lap, you dig your face into his chest, short dress riding up. He physically has to stop himself from letting out a loud moan. Instead, he traces his fingers up and down your spine. You shudder.

“Are you sure we can’t fuck, Charlie?”

Right there, is his breaking point. He’s ready to kiss you, finger you, eat you out, fuck you, anything. But you giggle teasingly as you pull back, a wicked smile drawn. 

“Whoops. Never mind.”

-

He’s known you wouldn’t make this easy on him. It’s almost as if you’ve made it your mission to screw with his head - and while he would normally love it - in this case, it was killing him.

Dance with me, you would beg him and you sway in front of him. It was a rare moment of it just being you two, so naturally, you took advantage of it. You showered, did your skincare, watched a movie, but the moment you heard Sparks by Coldplay echoing from his phone, you immediately jumped up like a bunny.

Then, his heart would melt, and melt, and melt - and melt some more. It would only be a reminder of what a perfect match you both were. He would memorize your face once again; no makeup, eyebags due to long travels with him, a small cut on the bridge of your nose from earlier when Lando had accidentally hit you with his frisbee, pink lips he so desperately missed. 

He would oblige, the way you knew he would. He found home within you as you would both sway, your feet on top of his as he would lead you both, you having to do nothing but close your eyes and feel his heartbeat. And it was so sweet to know that it was only yours.

I love you, he would remind you as if he didn’t already tell you a million times before. As if it were a way to make up for all this. And you would say-

“I know.”

-

“How are you keeping up?” 

The Frenchman smiles proudly as he takes a sip of water. “I’m actually doing fine. You?”

Charles gulps, green eyes following to where you stand next to Kika.

“Good.”

-

“It’s actually not that hard.” 

Kika and you had been touching up on your boyfriend's challenge. She would say it as if it were the easiest thing. You slump against your chair.

“That’s not fair… Mine has the most beautiful face ever!”

“Hey!”

You squeal as she aims a pillow at you. I’m sorry! The Portuguese laughs too, sticking her tongue out. You sigh. “I do miss him, though.”

“Yeah…”

“Have we seriously just been talking about how horny we are?”

“Don’t say it like that!” She bites her lip. “We have.”

“Why did they ever think this was going to be a good idea?”

Propping her arm against the table, she beams. “It’s not, but I heard from Pierre about how much Charles is struggling.” You groan.

“Yeah, well that’s nothing but his own fault.”

-

It’s now been 2 weeks and he’s already given up. His pleads were convincing. 

C’mon, baby. Let me fuck you.

It’s been too long. I miss the way you taste.

But you stood your ground. 

“No, no, no.” You shook your head, running away. Seeing Carlos, you hide behind him. “You brought this onto yourself! Now you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Confused, Carlos questions you both on what you’re talking about. It’s just that your sister won’t let me-

“Stop! That’s my brother!”

The Monegasque shrugs as Carlos turns to you. What is he talking about? Your face burns up as you brush him off. “Nada, nada - he’s just being a jerk.” And so, he believes it and walks away, too tired to deal with any of it.

 You let out a squeal when Charles plunges towards you. He picks you up, carrying you to his motorhome.

“Let go!”

Dropping you onto his small bed, he stares down at you like a lion salivating over their prey. You suppress a whimper, clamming your legs shut. He raises a brow.

“You’re telling me you don’t want the same thing I do? I promise I’ll do it just the way you like it.”

Closing your eyes, you can picture it. You can feel him already, pressed up against you. You do want it, you do. Opening your eyes, you shake your head. 

“Just two more weeks to go.”

-

“We lost.” Taken aback, you snort. What do you mean? Your friend blushes before dragging you to the corner. “I mean that last night Pierre and I went out for dinner and one thing led to another and-”

“Okay, okay, I caught on!”

Giggling, she shimmies her shoulders towards you. “What are you going to do?” You pout as you stare back blankly. She sighs. “I’m talking about you and Charles! I mean you both already won - you could do whateverrrr you want.”

Stuttering, you cough before saying, “You made it loud and clear, thank you very much.”

-

Shivering, you climb into the passenger's seat of his Pista as you thank him for opening and closing your door. As soon as he climbs in, he turns on the heater. The Monaco streets were lonely, everyone already in their homes, sheltering from the light rain that had picked up.

“You want to pull over?”

You sound so sweet asking that he almost thinks he’s hallucinating or that any second now you’re going to surprise him with a, just kidding!

But he quickly could tell you weren’t and he doesn’t want to let the moment slip away. Not when he’s been waiting for so long. Screw it if he lost.

Pulling over on the side of an isolated street, he hauls you onto his lap. You thank the universe for skirts. Pushing your panties aside, his long fingers slide against your wet folds. You let out a wail.

“Fuck, you don’t know how I’ve missed hearing you.” He slides two fingers in. “Feeling you.”

Dazed, you find yourself grinding on his fingers. Every single time they would brush against your g-spot, you would kiss him harder. He slips them out, bringing them up to his lips. 

And he moans in a way you’ve never heard before. So fucking sweet. Blushing, you lean in to kiss him. You can still taste yourself.

“Charles, please - do something.”

Never during your entire relationship has he ever fucked you as hard as he did that day. His grip on your waist hurt, but it hurt so good. His cock would continuously brush against where you needed him the most, so much so, he left you seeing stars. Drooling all over him, you hold onto his shoulders, bouncing up and down rapidly.

“So tight – So warm.” He chokes when you ground your hips deeper. “So fucking good.”

Then, he finishes inside of you. His fingers slide down to your clit as he rubs it. You finish with a loud cry. Kissing you one last time, he slaps your ass. You scowl playfully.

“Admit it - you’ve missed it, too.”

-

“Just a few more weeks and you would have won!” Pierre clicks his tongue before kicking his legs up against the table in front of him. Charles rolls his eyes.

“I’m never doing that again.”

Kika smacks the Frechman’s thigh. “You both lost, remember? Only, you did before him.” The Monegasque quickly springs up.

“You’re saying we won?”

“You’re acting as if this were the fucking Olympics, Cha.” You drag him by the arm to sit back down as he starts celebrating his ‘accomplishment of the year’.

“What are we clapping about?”

Your brother strolls over to an open seat as he opens up a water bottle. Hurriedly, you screech, “Nothing! Only that the season is almost over-”

“He’s yapping about how he won No Nut November, except, he didn’t. 2 weeks and fucking does not count.”

“You did what?”

Jumping up, Charles trips over his feet as he tries backing away from the angry Spaniard. “I think I forgot my phone! I’ll be right back!”

Chasing after him, your brother yells out, “That’s my baby sister, cabrón!”

[beloveds-embrace]

Fuck it, we ball, I hope that disrespectful anon gets hemorrhoids and they can't get them removed until next year, AND that their insurance doesn't cover it. I'm here thinking about your Omega idea where omegas normally do the pursuing, but with a slight twist; the boys being the omegas. An alpha who is for sure down bad for the boys, but thinks "ah, theyre out of my league, I should be aiming lower, manage my expectations". Only 141 is just as down bad for them, and they're doing everything just short of screaming "PICK UP ON THE HINTS, COME INTO OUR HOUSE AND BEDS AND LIVES AND STAY FOREVER PLEASE"

Johnny is about to say fuck decorum and just show up in reader's house wearing nothing but a ribbon and a tag that says 'free to a good home' (your home is the good one, please keep him, there is no receipt so you can't return him).

Price has the brain cell normally in terms of trying to gently coax you into getting you to say you're into them, he has a 15 step plan that may or may not involve using his various contacts to get you spending more time in close proximity to them. Also he for some reason is always baking, he always comes over asking you for sugar? (He'll take any kind of 'sugar' you're willing to offer, he loves making a variety of cream pies)

Gaz is always gently inviting them to attend 'friend' things, things that could be a date but that he can excuse as 'well we're coworkers/friends/neighbors, we should get along :)'. It's just a coincidence that various other people seem to bail except for any of the other boys, now why don't you sit beside him so you guys can share popcorn at the movies (you both always seem to be reaching for it at the same time, if your fingers touched anymore you might as well be holding hands)

Simon is chasing off any omegas he thinks are a threat to them getting reader, that is THEIR alpha, paws OFF (rip to anyone reader was halfheartedly going on dates with, this man is gonna become those people's sleep paralysis demon)

Hope you enjoy!! :3 💕💕 i lovedddd writing this sm omg

See, the thing is, you’d always thought of yourself as a decent Alpha. Not overbearing, not egotistical, not a demanding freak- just capable and steady. But you weren’t extraordinary. Not the kind of Alpha Omegas like them would look at twice. And so, while you worked alongside the men of Task Force 141 you convinced yourself to be content with just admiring them from a distance.

You couldn’t help it. They were perfect, as far as you were concerned. Perfect, and fully out of your league.

Surely, Omegas like them would want someone better. Someone stronger. You’d told yourself that so many times it was practically your mantra, the only way you’d be able to stop yourself from pursuing them. They deserved someone more charismatic, more confident- an Alpha who could match their brilliance. Not someone like you, fumbling through conversations with them, struggling to keep your feelings in check.

But they’d already decided. They didn’t need a flashy Alpha or someone who tried too hard. What they wanted was you. The only problem? You didn’t seem to realize it, no matter how obvious they made it.

John took the lead, naturally. He knew you were cautious and perhaps a little insecure when it came to relationships (it was fucking visible in you, silly Alpha. He scoffs each time you draw back, frustrated), so he made it his mission to draw you in- slowly and subtly. His plan was meticulous: get you comfortable, build trust, and create opportunities for you to spend more time with them so you’d see that they only want you.

Maybe then you’d break out of that stupid shell you’ve put yourself in.

He’d started baking regularly, a habit you hadn’t even known he had. At least once a week, he’d show up at your place with a tin of cookies, a loaf of fresh bread, or a perfectly golden pie. “Thought I’d share,” he’d say casually, though the slight smirk tugging at his lips told a different story. He peers at you, letting his scent coil just a bit more. “I hope you don’t mind the amount of cream. I happen to like cream pies a lot.”

The way to an Alpha’s heart is through their stomach, and all that.

If he wasn’t offering you baked goods, he was asking for your help to make said baked goods. “Ran out of sugar again,” he’d sigh, handing you an empty container. “Mind sparing a bit?”

It was ridiculous, downright unbelievable how often he supposedly ran out of baking supplies. But his visits became a highlight of your week, and the lingering looks he gave you left your heart pounding long after he was gone.

The one time he’d handfed you, watching you lick the syrup from his fingers with half-lidded eyes, still lives in your mind rent-free.

Kyle took a softer, more personal approach. He wasn’t above using the pretense of friendship to spend time with you, often inviting you to casual dates- grabbing coffee, going to the movies, or just walking through town and shopping. Every invitation was framed innocently, but there was always a little extra effort behind it. He’d pick a movie he knew you’d like, suggest places he knew you’d find interesting, and ensure that others you unfortunately knew joined just enough to make it seem less like a date.

Somehow, though, those other people always mysteriously canceled. It was never anything dramatic- just a sudden cold, a scheduling conflict, or a “something came up, sorry.” Eventually, it would be just you and a very smug Kyle, sitting close enough that your knees brushed or reaching for popcorn at the same time. Once, right as the bowl emptied and you both reached for it, Kyle simply thought fuck it and held your hand.

On one occasion, you both shared a bowl of spaghetti and ended up with the scene from the Lady and the Tramp.

It was so painfully obvious to everyone.

Except you.

“It’s not a coincidence,” Kyle muttered to Johnny one evening after you left, both of them sitting in the spot you were in, bathing in the leftover warmth and scent. “How can they not notice?”

Speaking of Johnny; he’s barely keeping himself together. Subtlety in missions are a must sometimes, but he doesn’t want to that with you anymore. He was just so, so, so frustrated with your obliviousness. What more does he need to do to show you that he- that they- want you?

He’s been dropping so many hints; half-jokes about Omegas waiting begging to be swept off their feet, suggestive winks when you compliment him in that lovely, adoring tone of yours. Once, while watching a romantic tv show, he’d sighed loudly and very pointedly said: “If only someone would claim me.”

“If ye don’t figure it out soon,” he growled at the others one night, pacing back and forth like a wild beast and probably on his way to leave a dent in the carpet, “I’m showin’ up at their doorstep with nothin’ but a red bow, like some bloody Christmas prezzie, I swear to god.”

John sighs, rolling his eyes. “You do that, and I’m leaving you on their porch.”

“That’s exactly what I’m askin’ for!”

Simon took the quietest but most direct approach. Just not exactly direct towards you. While the others worked to get closer to you, Simon focused on eliminating what he saw as obstacles: other Omegas who thought you were free for the taking. It didn’t matter if they were serious or just someone you’d gone on a casual date with- Simon saw them all as threats.

He didn’t have to say much to scare them off. A single cold glare from across the room, sharp bursts of his scent, or a low, menacing comment was usually enough to send them packing. He didn’t care if it was excessive.

You were his Alpha. You were their Alpha, and no one else had a right to you.

But even Simon softened when it came to you. He couldn’t put all his thoughts, all his feelings into words, so he did them with his actions. Quiet protectiveness, gentle, careful touches. Moments of fleeting vulnerabilities shared between you and him.

He was always there for you. Even if you didn’t know you need him with you.

Still, despite all their efforts, you remained convinced that they weren’t interested.

In the end, to no one’s surprise, it’s Johnny who snaps. Johnny, so close to his heat, so absolutely done with your obliviousness and the Omegas that aren’t them talking with you when you should be only focused on them.

He doesn’t care; leaves the carefully made nest with your stolen shirts and none of the others stop him when he just. Drags your surprised self to the nest.

“Johnny! You-“

“I want you.” He hisses, bares his teeth all sharp and desperate. “We want you. And damn it, we will have you.”

And well, who are you to even say no when this is all you have wanted?

[kiss-inthekitchen]

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 

That is, until you opened the door. 

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 

“Sure looks that way.” 

"At least it's a queen?" 

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 

"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 

"–mind as long as you–" 

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Sorry,” you managed. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 

“You just said ass.” 

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 

“I knew you’d agree.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out. 

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 

“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not. I just know you.” 

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 

“I told you to stop profiling me.” 

This time, he just hummed in response. 

“And so what if I stuttered?” 

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings from him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 

“That all makes total sense.” 

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 

“Now tell me the rest of it.” 

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 

“Yes.” 

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 

“It is.” 

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 

“Are you certain of that?” 

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips. “It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 

“Okay, was it just me, or–” 

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed. 

“Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 

“Well, you kissed me.” 

“I did.”  

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 

You text back: okay? 

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 

You: what did u say? 

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 

You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 

Shit. 

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate?? 

Spencer: Yes 

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn. 

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 

[wendyyyyyyyy]

"The Princess and her Eight Knights"

Pairing : skz x fem reader (9th member, maknae)

Synopsis : Skz members taking care of you during that time of your month, while you were on tour.

Warning : No warning at all. Just pure fluff and wholesomeness all the way.

Enjoy!

----------

The day of the concert was already shaping up to be chaotic, and you weren’t exactly in the best mood. During soundcheck the day before, you had been snappy and bratty with everyone, but the boys knew better than to take it personally. Felix, being your self-proclaimed “bestie,” had pulled Hyunjin aside with a knowing smirk, whispering, “It’s time.”

“Again?” Hyunjin muttered with a sigh, rolling his eyes. But there was no annoyance behind it—only quiet understanding.

Felix, ever prepared, pulled out his phone and checked the tracker he’d set up for you months ago. You were too lazy to bother with one yourself, so he had taken it upon himself to track it for you, much to your embarrassment. “Yep. She probably doesn't even realize it yet.”

Later that evening, Hyunjin and Lee Know made a quick convenience store stop. While it was still to grab their own essentials, they secretly loaded their basket with your favorite ice cream and a stash of chocolates.

“She’ll be insufferable if we don’t have these,” Lee Know muttered with a smirk.

“She’s already insufferable,” Hyunjin shot back, chuckling as he placed the items on the counter.

. . .

Fast forward to the day of the concert.

You were doing your best to push through. The lights were blinding, the screams of STAY filling the massive venue as adrenaline coursed through your veins. But halfway through one of the songs, you began to feel an all-too-familiar discomfort—a dull ache in your abdomen, along with that unsettling dampness.

You froze, panic rising in your chest as you realized what had happened. You tried to continue performing, but the next time you turned, Seungmin’s sharp eyes caught the faint but noticeable red stain forming on your white pants, just above your hip.

Without a word, Seungmin took off his jacket mid-performance and draped it around your waist, securing it tightly. The move was subtle, but STAY noticed, gasps and murmurs rippling through the crowd. You wanted to cry from embarrassment, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it.

Han, quick on his feet, immediately moved toward you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder as he led you off stage. “Come on, let’s get you changed,” he whispered, his tone gentle.

The fans watched as the boys seamlessly adjusted their positions on stage, filling in for you without skipping a beat. Their professionalism was flawless, but their care for you was even more apparent, and the entire venue seemed to soften at the sight.

. . .

Backstage, you were still mortified. By the time you changed and cleaned up, the concert was wrapping up, and you felt the weight of the day crashing down on you.

Back at the hotel, you curled up in bed, ready to hide from the world. But that peace didn’t last long. A knock on your door made you groan, and when you opened it, Changbin stood there with the biggest grin on his face, holding out a hot pack.

“Special delivery!” he announced, wiggling the hot pack in his hand. “Look, it has my face on it. You’re welcome.”

You let out a laugh despite yourself, grabbing it from him. “Seriously? Only you would do this.”

But before you could shut the door, Hyunjin and Felix appeared, carrying bags of goodies. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of us,” Felix teased.

Hyunjin smirked as he plopped down on your bed, holding up a tub of your favorite ice cream. “We come bearing gifts.”

Soon, the rest of the boys filed in—Lee Know with a bag of chocolates, I.N clutching a stack of your favorite DVDs, and Han holding a fluffy blanket he had swiped from his own room.

“Group movie night!” I.N declared, setting up the portable DVD player on the desk.

“Guys, I’m fine. Really,” you tried to protest, but they weren’t having it.

“You say that, but you were crying over a jacket an hour ago,” Seungmin quipped, earning a chorus of laughs.

Changbin handed you the hot pack, his tone suddenly soft. “Seriously, though. You don’t have to be embarrassed. We’ve got you, okay?”

“Always,” Chan added from his spot on the couch, busy working on his laptop, but with a warm smile on his face.

And just like that, the room filled with laughter and teasing as you all settled in for the night. You felt a little embarrassed still, but more than that, you felt loved.

. . .

The next morning, “The Princess and Her Eight Knights” was trending on X. Clips of Seungmin wrapping his jacket around you, Han leading you backstage, and the way all of them subtly taking care of you had gone viral, with fans swooning over how considerate they were.

Chan showed you the hashtag over breakfast, a small smile on his face. “Looks like STAY thinks you’re royalty now.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t help but feel a little like a princess—because you had eight knights who always had your back.

[mellotunekitty]

hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with them messaging s/o or coming into their apartment late at night to come to bed and the boys are like “I can’t sleep. Can we talk?” and s/o messages back or says after sort of wake up “I can sleep” and they fall back asleep 😂. When s/o does properly wake up hours later, s/o pulls their man in for morning cuddle, but then their mind starts working and they ask seriously, “… did you want to talk about something last night or was I dreaming it?” Or for messaging, s/o remembers and gives their boyfriend a call and is happy to be talking to them and they ask the same question over the phone “I thought I dreamt it, but I just noticed you message me and I sent that back… I was exhausted and in a deep sleep. Did you still want to talk?”? Basically s/o isn’t very good to interact with or function when they’re tired 😂? (It’s all good people staying up all night for their love of their life, but what about a s/o who’s never able too?. They fall asleep in bed and then are woken up by their boyfriend sneaking in. They frequently pass out after their boyfriend sneaks into their bed. S/o Hair a mess. “What?… oh… zzzz” would be how the boys identity probably stayed a secret for the longest time. Wouldn’t even notice the blurry mask and spandex suits in their tired state).

omg yes, as a sleepy person, i LOVE this idea!!!

----------

Batboys x Sleepy gn!reader

Bruce Wayne

Being home late meant low chances of having an actual conversation with you. He needed help setting up the gala for tomorrow and you guys were supposed to plan it tonight

“My love, wake up for a minute. We have to set the plans, remember.” 

You sat up for a moment, sitting next to him in bed to help him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long seeing as you almost immediately fell asleep on his shoulder. 

He just sighed and put his laptop away, figuring you guys could plan it later or just use what you had. 

It was a bit funny though, seeing you so out of it trying to stay awake and focus on the plans. 

“And I think we should serve lemonade with the… darling? Are you listening?” “Hm? Yeah…” 

Dick Grayson 

He usually came home to you sleeping after patrol, so he figured he’d have to wake you up if he wanted to discuss tomorrow's date plans.

“Babe? Hey, wake up, I gotta talk to you…” 

It works…for a few seconds. You woke up, but mumbled something incoherent before falling back asleep. 

Dick just chuckled and shrugged it off, figuring he could just talk to you in the morning. The date wasn’t until later anyway, and sleeping beside you seemed more appealing at the moment.

“It’s okay… I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, sweetheart.” 

Jason Todd

Poor Jason couldn’t sleep at all. He tried everything from warm drinks to meditation, but nothing seemed to work. So, he called you. 

“Hey, y/n? Yeah, uhm… can I come over?” 

He got a half mumbled ‘yeah’ before heading over. Of course when he did, you were tucked in, all cute and sleepy. 

Jay slipped in next to you, snuggling against you and had the easiest time falling asleep. However, in the morning, you looked shocked, not remembering him coming in. 

“...when did you even get here?!” 

Tim Drake

It was always a 50/50 with Tim. Either he slept anytime, anywhere, or he couldn’t sleep at all. Tonight, he couldn’t sleep. So, he called you. 

“Hey, baby, I can’t sleep. Can we just uhh… talk for a while?” 

He got all warm and gushy when he heard your muffled little ‘yes’ from under your blankets. 

But he quickly realized you weren’t the best person to talk to when you were tired. You couldn’t hold a conversation at all and eventually, he found out that you sleep talk. It was a pleasant surprise to him.

“What are you saying now, hm?” “The banana… lost my hat.” “Oh, yeah, I bet.” 

Damian Wayne

The second you opened your eyes when he walked into the room as Robin, he thought he had completely blown his cover. Apparently, he didn’t. 

“Go back to bed… you don’t see anything.” 

He was shocked it actually worked, but he shouldn’t have been too surprised. He knew you’d take any and every opportunity to sleep. 

Damian hastily got out of his Robin suit and got into pajamas, sliding into bed next to you. It was a bit of a funny thought to him, the fact that you didn’t even question Robin being in your room… right? 

“I had a weird dream last night.” “About?” “I dreamt that Robin was in my room.”  

[reiderwriter]

Margaritas and Mistakes pt. 2

Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader

Genre: Smut, just filth really, nothing else. 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Summary: The morning after your night out you wake up and have to come face-to-face with the consequences of your actions. You find you quite enjoy those consequences though.

Warnings: Suggestive BDSM themes, soft!Dom Spencer (I'm a simple woman), daddy kink, dry humping, dirty talk, oral (F receiving), vaginally sex, multiple orgasms, over-stimulation, degradation, name-calling, pet names (baby girl, princess etc.), unprotected sex (no creampie).

A/N: Here's the much anticipated part two for yesterday's fic. Thank you for being patient everyone, and sorry to tease you all by having this completely written before pt 1 was even published but sometimes the anticipation only makes it better lol... Hope you will forgive me 🙏 ALSO! I hit 300 followers on this account yesterday, and I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has supported my writing here thus far! I can't do anything to celebrate as I'm on holiday for the next few days but thank you so much ♥️

Check out Part One!

Requests are open, and in the meantime please check out my masterlist!

When you woke up; that morning, you could instantly feel something was different. Not wrong, just different.

It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, in fact the way the quilts laid on top of you kept you almost deliciously warm in your bed. It wasn’t the general mess of the night before either, as, surveying the room with one half cracked eye, you noted that all your discarded clothes seemed to be either neatly stacked away in the corner or perhaps left in the laundry hamper in your bathroom. The curtains were open, which you guess was somewhat of a change, but you honestly forgot to close them at least twice a week, so that wasn’t what it was.

You left out a quick yawn and decided whatever it was wasn’t as important as sleeping off the absolute killer headache that was currently burning a hole in the back of your head, a constant thumping that you wanted to do your best to avoid for now.

It was when you snuggled back into your sheets and attempted to turn over to find a new position that you realised exactly what it was that was wrong. You weren’t alone.

Cursing yourself for drinking so much you stayed as still as possible, as the man in bed next to you groaned in his sleep and seemed to pull you in tighter to his chest. You weren’t exactly complaining, but you couldn’t help the panic forming in your mind, as you absolutely had no recollection of bringing anyone home.

Scratch that, you had no recollection of getting home yourself at all.

Whoever it was, it was evident that he’d at least somewhat taken care of you. You couldn’t feel the mascara you’d worn last night glueing your eyelids shut, so obviously one of you had had the foresight to remove your makeup, and you honestly doubted it was you. The fact that you were wearing pyjamas, too, was probably a more positive sign. If you did have sex with the man, he’d most likely encouraged you to put clothes back on so you didn’t catch a chill in the night.

And boy did you hope that you had gotten lucky with whoever it was at your back last night. You couldn’t see his face obviously, with your back pressed up against his entire body, but you could feel him and he felt delicious.

He was long, and lean, but you could feel some strong muscles underneath as well. Even in sleep, he had a strong grip on your waist, the pressure of it pulling you back so your ass was directly in line with his crotch. You were almost tempted to shift slightly, to see if it’d give you a few more ideas about who your mystery man could be.

The best thing about him, thus far, however, was his scent. You knew that after drinking all of the alcohol you remembered ordering last night - and perhaps more that you didn’t remember - you absolutely didn’t smell that hot. And after a night of partying and dancing, too, you could almost feel the winter sweat sticking to your skin. Your bedmate, however, smelt absolutely fucking amazing. He had a musky, earthy scent, but it didn’t seem artificial. It felt warm and homely and all you wanted to do was turn around and nuzzle into his neck so you could breathe him indeeply.

But you had no fucking clue who this was, and you were coming up with blanks as to where you could’ve picked him up.

“Think, Y/N, think for once,” you whispered to yourself, chastising yourself for going shot for shot with Emily of all people.

You remembered being in Penelope’s apartment listening to Emily talk about her love of chardonnay, and you remembered the girls promising to find you a man that night. They’d obviously succeeded, but at the cost of your entire memory of the situation.

You thought a little harder again, back to sitting at the table and your stupid little game of fuck, marry, kill where you’d amitted your growing attraction to your office’s resident genius, and then downing a probably near fatal amount of shots to inspire your friends to forget they heard anything, and then… And then it all goes blank.

So you had no clues as to who your mystery man could be, and you didn’t want to risk waking him just to find out. In a last ditch effort, you cracked your eyes open again and reached out for your phone, sitting prettily on your nightstand, plugged in and charging. Whoever this man was, he was a saint, because if you couldn’t remember getting through the door, you definitely didn’t put your own phone on charge.

Trying not to stretch too much, you grabbed the phone and bought it as close to you as possible, shielding your bedmate from the light coming out of it. You immediately opened the messages, and your stomach dropped at what was waiting for you there.

Emily: I TOLF U I WAS A GR8 WING WOMAN!!1! When you two make baby ggeniuses, dont say I dind’t tell you so.

Penelope: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Which is admittedly not a lot, but still!!!

JJ: Remember to take advil in the morning, I’m sure Reid will remind you as well, but you drank a lot tonight, and you never know when we’re going to get called in 🙂

The messages didn’t give you much of the context you needed, especially the ones sent by Penelope and Emily, but there was enough there to work out that you had majorly fucked up. And the sound of his groans from next to your ear told you that you only had around thirty seconds before your theory was tested and your mystery man woke up.

“Mornin’” came the voice from behind you, and if it were possible your heart started beating even faster. It was him.

“Reid! Good morning!” You tried to keep the curiosity and anxiety out of your voice, as you finally turned over to look at him. His sleepy face was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. His hair fell in small waves into his face and you had to stop yourself from brushing it behind his ear for him. There was a five o’clock shadow forming on his face that you’d never seen before and the scruff really suited him. His most distracting feature, however, was his lack of shirt. And the many small love bites that were now forming on his neck.

“How’s your head this morning? I was going to try to get you to take something for it last night, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“Oh my head? It’s fine, totally fine. Nothing to worry about there. Totally not pounding.” You groan and he cracks a smile at your attempt to downplay your self-injury. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer somehow, and you almost panic, ready to place your hands on his chest and push him away, but you’re not quite ready to admit that you don’t remember exactly what you did or didn’t do the night before so instead you push your hands up to his neck and play with his hair.

“Are you going to ask or do you remember?” He smirks down at you, rubbing small comforting circles into your back. You let out a small sigh, a goodbye to those few blissfully peaceful moments.

“Ask what? Ask if I remember climbing into bed with my coworker and leaving some quite pretty marks on his neck or ask if I actually got further than my fantasies have in the last month?” You trace your hand down his neck, stopping at a rather red patch where you can still see some trace of your lipstick from the night before.

“Ask whether or not I’m going to be fair and tell you what actually happened, or keep you in the dark and let your imagination keep running wild.” He lifts his body up, and rests on his side, his arm propping his head up.

You make a sound of protest and attempt to follow his movement but his free hand holds your hips down with a soft pressure, holding you there less with strength and more with the weight of your own curiosity at whatever it is his body is suggesting.

“You begged me last night you know,” he starts, leaning down and whispering it directly into your ear. “To stay. To fuck you like a desperate little whore.” Your legs pushed together now, a sorry attempt to curb the growing need pooling between them, but he didn’t let up.

“You pushed me down on the bed when I didn’t do what you wanted, like a little brat. So drunk out of your mind that I couldn’t touch you, but begging for it like you would die if I didn’t hold you down and let you scream my name.” The hand on your hip moved up and under your pajama shirt, a rather flimsy thing that did nothing to stop his oncoming conquest of your body.

“You made me promise something, you know?” He says just as his hand reaches one of your nipples. He pinches it, hard, as you throw open your mouth in a near silent gasp. Your hips buck involuntarily, and suddenly one of his legs is between yours, pinning you down again so you can’t move as he keeps his attention on your chest.

“Made me promise I would stay and not let you forget. Promise that, when you woke up in the morning, I’d fill you in on everything you did, everything you asked for.” He keeps his voice as low as a whisper and you can feel his breath on your neck, the contact sending a shiver down your spine, arching your back and pushing your breasts further into his hand.

“S-Spencer-” you beg with just that one word for more. But he stills his hand and moves it out from under your top.

“But if you remember, then we’re finished here right. I can go?” He looks down at you, pouting now and you hesitate for a second before answering him.

“I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything, so please…” you don’t quite know what you’re begging for at that point, but if you’d filled him in on any of the jucier details of your fantasies as of late, then you were in for a very fun morning.

He shifted his weight again, this time pushing your hips together, and holding his chest up with his arms stacked on either side of your head, you looked up at him again as one of his hands came down and encouraged your leg to wrap around his waist, allowing him to push even more of his weight down into you.

His head moved back to your ear as he began rocking his hips tantalisingly slowly into yours, dry humping into you.

“At first, you didn’t even know it was me. Just fell back into whatever body you thought would pay you the most attention. Rocked yourself back into me on the dancefloor, right where anyone else could see what a little whore you were being.” Despite the layers of clothing that separated you and the torturious pace, you felt your arousal growing by the second as you listened to him recounting the events of the prior night.

“And even when you realised it was me you didn’t fucking stop. Kept teasing me and playing with me in public, in front of our friends.” He growled a little bit then, obviously still angry about your actions the night before. You were bucking your hips up to match his movements now, teetering close to the edge of an orgasm. He hadn’t even really touched you yet, and you were like putty in his hand, ready to be molded into whatever shape he wanted you in.

“I drove you home, kept my hands off you, I was perfectly ready to let you forget the entire thing, but you couldn’t keep your mouth shut could you.” His hand was on your ass now, encouraging you to keep up your pace and deepening the contact between the two of you. You could feel his entire length pressed into you, and you wanted it inside you.

“Told me you wanted me to slam you against a wall and finger-fuck you, wanted to be my cheap little whore, wanted me to use you,” he groaned into your ear and bit down on your neck a second later, and you moaned, the pain and pleasure mixing together deliciously.

And then he stopped, pulled away and rolled off of you, and you cried out at the loss of contact when you were so close to your release.

“What is it, baby? You want more?” He smirked from his new position, sat up on the opposite side of the bed, just far enough out of reach that you had to crawl over to him.

And so you did. So desperate for the man, you climbed into his lap, and begged him for any reciprocation with your moans as you began grinding down on his leg again.

“Does my little slut want to cum?” He asked, his hands placed firmly and flat on the bed sheets either side of him, leaning back softly to watch your attempts to entice him into touching you again.

“Get off and strip down to your panties,” he demanded, and you happily complied, not caring where the offending pieces of clothing landed before jumping back into his lap. Apart from his lack of shirt, he was still in all of his clothing from the night before, a pair of loose sweatpants and boxers, and you relished the feeling of the fabric against your legs as you wrapped your legs back around him.

“I want you to use my leg to get yourself off baby, do you think you can do that?” He asked you, and you immediately nodded your head, desperate to start, but his hands on your hips stopped you.

“Use your words baby, answer me nicely.”

“Yes, fuck, yes I want to do that, please,” you whimper and he loosens his grip a little bit.

“Yes, daddy,” he demands and your eyes shoot up to his. Seeing that he is completely serious you feel yourself only growing more aroused as you stutter out another reply.

“Yes, please daddy.” He smiles at you again now and lets go of you completely, resting his hands on the bed again. Your hands come up to his shoulders and you begin your movements. You push your chest directly against his, desperate for some of your bare skin to be met with his, your aching nipples rubbing up against the plains of his chest in a near perfect way. You grind down into his thigh like its a lifeline, your every attempt to set an even tempo foiled by your absolute desperation to reach your climax.

He keeps talking to you throughout, mixing the sweetest of affirmations with the most disgusting insults, both driving you more and more crazy as the minutes tick by.

“Look at this disgusting little puddle my little girl has left on my pants. You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you my sweet little whore?” You moan out a reply, but he wants your words again. Delivering a painful slap to your ass he asks again, and this time you eke out a reply.

“Yes, daddy, I’m a nasty little whore, I want you so badly, daddy.” You whimper, the words and the shock of the slap bringing you ever-closer to your first release. Your arms are wrapped around his back now, scratching and marking him as if to claim territory, each one of his sharp-intakes at the pain driving you closer and closer until you finally feel yourself fall off the edge.

“So good for me baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple as you collapse into his arms, breathless from all of your hard work.

“I didn’t even have to touch you, and look at you. Looking like a fucked out whore, just for me baby girl," he whispered into your ear as he lifted you up, gently laying you back down on the bed.

“You think you can still do some more, baby?” He asked, and you nodded. This time it was enough for him, because he instantly shed the rest of his clothes and moved between your legs.

“You look so beautiful like this, baby. Gonna take care of you okay, just relax,” he kissed the words into your neck and started trailing kisses the entire way down your bosy. He paused briefly to show your breasts some attention, swirling his tongue around one nipple while he teased, pinched and pulled the other one, eventually switching to give them equal love.

But he didn’t stop at your breasts, pressing kisses down the length of your stomach before reaching your panties again. He looked up at you from his position before pulling them down your leg, making sure that your entire attention was devoted to him. He didn’t have to try hard, as your thoughts had been filled with him ever since he’d woken that morning, and you found you were quite content for it to stay that way forever.

He lifted your hips and slipped the offending piece of fabric down your legs. You shivered at the loss of contact at first, the sodden lace having been stuck to you after your desperate movements earlier. You were bare for all of five seconds before he dove into you, nudging your clit with his nose while he pressed kitten licks against your slit. You moaned out, not caring about controlling your volume, and didn’t stop as he continued licking and kissing like he was a man starved.

His tongue eventually made its way up to your clit and that’s when you lost it, bucking your hips wildly up into his mouth in a desperate attempt to use his face to get yourself off, but one of his large hands pinned you down again. He didn’t let up, rolling your clit around his tongue, bringing his other hand up to press a finger into you, beginning to pump in and out.

You didn’t even feel the build up this time, just closed your eyes as your hips jerked up once, twice into his face, not even a breath escaping your lips for what felt like an eternity as he let you ride through your second orgasm. He didn’t stop, but he removed his mouth from your centre, his fingers still pumping into you as you began twitching underneath him.

“Good girl, so fucking good for me. You’ve got one more left, right baby? One more left to give me, hmm?” He asked, but you couldn’t answer anymore, just nodding your head as best you could and bucking into his hands like a woman gone mad.

“Perfect baby, open your legs wide for me, okay?” His voice was gentle now as he gave his cock a few pumps, removing his fingers and flipping you onto your knees, putting you in the perfect position for him.

“You have to tell me if you want me to stop, okay princess? Tell me if it’s too much and we can end this right here,” he gently pulled the hair away from your face and pressed a final kiss to the back of your neck, finally lining his cock up with your glistening hole.

Then he’s finally pushed into you, and you could've sworn you saw stars. He fully sheathed himself inside of you and didn't move for a minute, choosing instead to press small kisses against your neck and back whilst you adjusted to his considerable length. He didn’t have to wait long though, as you could feel yourself practically dripping around him, making even more of a mess of your sheets.

He picks up a steady pace, pulling out halfway and then snapping his hips back into you with such force you’re grabbing your pillows with a vice grip. You tried to push your head back down into the pillow to soften your moans as well, but he grabbed you by your hair, wrapping it around his wrist, using his new leverage to pull you back onto his dick with each stroke.

“Wanna hear you baby girl, don’t fucking hold back,” he grunted into your ear, the new angle of his hips hitting that deep spot within you that had you flooding the sheets almost instantly, pushing out wave after wave of cum as you moan his name like an animal driven mad.

“That’s right baby girl, fucking cum around my cock, get it nice and wet,” he continues pounding into you, pulling out more and more of his length each time to hit deeper and deeper each time he returns to you. Your legs were practically shaking then at the overstimulation, your tongue hanging out of your head as you failed to form any coherent thought except “yes.”

His hips start faltering quickly and you knew he was close. A few more snaps of his hips and he pulled out of you completely with a small curse, shooting his load up your back as he released his hold on your hair gently. He collapsed on top of you, his arms around you as he kissed his way up your spine.

The two of you sat there for a few minutes, the only sound that of your ragged breaths as you both attempted to catch your breath. After a few minutes he pulled away, and you heard him retreat to the bathroom. He came back swiftly with a washcloth and cleaned the two of you up, wiping his cum from your back and chest and doing his best to clean up your cunt without overstimulating you even more.

“Baby, we have to go to the bathroom now, you need to pee,” he gently turns you over and you whimper at the movement. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and you push yourself up to a sitting position next to him, unhappy that he’s being so responsible now after possibly ruining you for other men forever.

“You’re going to have to carry me, you know,” you grumble, resting your head against his shoulder. “My legs are still shaking like I’ve just walked a thousand miles with no rest.”

He chuckles at that and wrapped your legs around him, picking you up swiftly. He didn’t move immediately, just content to have you in his arms for a few seconds. You looked down into his eyes and you felt it too. Like you’d never want to be anywhere else but right here, in his arms. You pressed a gentle, sweet kiss to his lips and you felt his smile as he returned it.

“Come on, Y/N, it’s not the first time I’ve had to force you into the bathroom and I doubt it will be the last,” he laughs, and you laugh with him. And in that moment you realise that he has you for life.

--X--

🏷️: @ihavenotitlesblog @gibbsgirl7 @beefyboisbeefybongos @bluecandycake @piecsesrising @dim-i-try @simp4f1 @marylovesevanpeters @daddy-dotcom @alondralolll @thearsonistrat @eddiemunsonssweetoltatties

(I know some of you didn't ask to be tagged but you asked for a pt. 2 so thought it couldn't hurt, lmk if you want to be untagged!)

[drewsarms]

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི this is a “part 2” to this post !! @nemesyaaa wanted to know what “soon” meant so I decided to write it out. Hope you enjoy!!

𐙚 reader sneaks into stalker!Rafe’s bed late at night

𐙚 warnings: use of the word “Daddy”, 18+ mdni

It had been almost a week since you gave Rafe that hard drive. A part of you was worried though when you didn’t receive any text or phone call from him saying how much he enjoyed it. You weren’t sure as to why he was avoiding you but you knew a way to get all of his attention.

Somehow you found yourself in front of Rafe Cameron’s house. Standing at the door you bring your fist up to knock. To your surprise, Ward answers the door. “Hello Mr. Cameron!” you say sweetly. He has a confused look on his face. “Hello. Um I’m sorry, it’s just I wasn’t expecting any company this late at night.” You quickly come up with an excuse hoping he’d let you in. “Oh I’m sorry sir. Did Sarah not tell you? I was supposed to be seeing her tonight. She needed my help with something.” He shakes his head looking at the ground, “Sarah’s out with a couple of friends. But I suppose you can wait until she gets back,” he says motioning you inside. “Thank you so much!” “Anytime, but it may be pretty late so just make sure you stay up until she gets back, okay?” You nod your head. You watch as Ward heads back to bed. “Oh this is perfect! Just perfect,” you thought. Your plan was working out perfectly! You eye your way around the house making your way upstairs.

As you get towards Sarah’s room you stop. You heard snoring. It sounded like Rafe’s. You inch closer to the noise coming out of his bedroom. As you open the door the moon illuminated his frame. His toned back rising and falling as he breathed. His mouth slightly opened. His hair messy. “Aw my sweet boy has had a long day,” you thought to yourself while smiling. As you walk over to his bed you start to undress. First your thin shirt, your cute frilly shorts and then your bra. Leaving you only in your panties. Once you got to the edge of the bed you leaned down breathing on the side of Rafe’s face. His eyes flicker but he doesn’t wake up. “Hey my sleepy boy,” you say in a soft whisper right next to his ear. He quickly opens his eyes and jumps up, leaning against his headboard. “What the fuck are you doing here!” He whispers back sounding a little annoyed. As his eyes adjusted he sees what you have on and thinks he’s still dreaming. There you were standing next to him with your perky nipples, swollen tits, and the tiniest pair of panties you own. “I wanted to see you Rafey…” you say while climbing in his lap not breaking eye contact. You lean down and whisper in his ear, “I need you so bad and you’ve been ignoring me daddy…how could you do that to your sweet girl?” You say while pouting your pretty lips. You wiggle your ass against him and rub your hands up and down his biceps and down his chest and you can feel the goosebumps form on his skin. “Oh baby….” he basically moans out. “Yeah? That’s the kind of affect I have on you? You want all of my attention? You want daddy?” You nod your head frantically and eagerly bounce up and down on his lap making him lose it. “You’re going to be all mine once I’m done with you. My little princess. Daddy’s sweet girl.” To say that this was a dream come true for Rafe was an understatement. He finally had you. You were finally his.

[gibberishfangirl]

Hello~ Congrats on 100 followers!! You really deserve, it means writing is your AESTHETIC. Anyway, leaving the references aside... I'd like to request Furin boys, Togame and Endo (if it's ok with you) reacting to the reader getting stabbed in their place (the reader protects them) in a fight. You decide whether the boys will see this when it happens or on the way back home with the reader walking much further behind and everything, trying to hide it from the boys. Stay well and stay hydrated, CONGRATS ONCE AGAIN 💚

WIND BREAKER | worth the sacrifice

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Mitsuki Kiryu, Toma Hiragi, Jo Togame

Contains ✰ sfw! violence, blood, reader gets injured, fighting, angst, comfort, guilty feelings, angry feelings and behavior, content of the boys reacting differently to the incident

★ a/n <3 : hiii! thank you so much for the kind words it means a lot! :) i did a mix of some characters finding out in the moment vs later. i didn’t include Endo, simply because im not confident enough in my skills to write him yet, sorry :’D </3★

★ feels enormous guilt, didn’t realize in the heat of the moment. realized you were hurt after it was over on your way home. blames himself for not protecting you ★

-> Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

there weren’t enough words in the world to describe the amount of fear and heartbreak that struck Sakura in the moment when you collapsed on the walk home. Sakura was usually fearless in most situations, always confident in his own abilities but this time was different. he couldn’t help but feel lost, not knowing what to do besides picking you up and running to the nearest hospital as his mind was going insane.

he drowned in his own thoughts the whole way there and even after. ‘when did it happen? where was i? how did i let it happen?’ the man who usually was overflown with confidence felt weak.

Sakura would never be able to live with himself if you were to get a life changing injury under his protection. he felt responsible for everything. he felt pathetic, how could he ever be the strongest when he couldn’t protect you? the person he loves the most. ‘you were okay now but what if something happens again? what if things don’t work out next time? next time. there shouldn’t be a next time. there shouldn’t have been a this time to begin with.’

the incident changed Sakura in a way. he hadn’t been the same since that night at the hospital where he cried for the first time in front of you. where he sobbed into your arms crying “i can’t do this without you. i can’t be here if you aren’t, i need you here with me.” Sakura vowed to himself that he’d never let you or anyone else he cared for be put in that position again. he won’t let it happen again.

Sakura knows how much you love him as you tried to be strong for him. the way you smiled and said it was nothing once you woke up. the way you never flinched or showed fear when you had to stitches. he admired it and wants to do the same for you in return. he considers you to be one of the strongest people he knows and you gave him a new meaning to the word “strong”.

-> Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

Nirei wouldn’t have expected this is how the night would’ve ended. he feels terrible as he was sitting next to your hospital bed on a spare chair. he spent the night with you while you were sleeping. he hasn’t been able to sleep or eat since the incident. he can’t help but just keep beating himself up. if only he had been stronger… how did he realize so late? the two of you were walking home when he wrapped his arm around your waist and felt the blood gushing out from your body while you winced in pain.

“Nirei? You still there?” the sound of your voice quickly snapped him out his thoughts. your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, the small lamp beside you was the only source of light. he looked terrible, his eyes were swollen, face covered in bruises, dried blood on his busted lip, not to mention his eye bags were horrendous. his eyes looked so sad, the way he looked so defeated made you feel devastated.

“hey, are you okay?” even though he looked far worse than you, appearance wise, he was still more concerned about you instead of himself. the feeling of starvation hadn’t even hit him since you were at the top of his mind. he hadn’t even bothered to get checked up on himself.

“yeah, i’m fine. are you okay? have you gotten checked? you’re covered bruises,” you were cut off mid ramble by him embracing you. he hugged you so gently it was almost as if he was scared you’d break by the slightest amount of pressure.

“don’t do that ever again. i can’t lose you. i promise ill be the one to protect you next time— just don’t... i want to be the one you can lean on.” Nirei couldn’t stop the tears from coming before breaking out into sobs as you hugged him back. you couldn’t stop your own tears in time. you were more scared than you realized. you stepped in front of him without thinking, it hadn’t registered how scary the situation was until you were on the hospital bed getting rushed into a room. despite how scared you were you couldn’t imagine how much scarier it would’ve been to not have Nirei here with you now.

★ noticed too late, tried to prevent it from happening but fails. he couldn’t stop it in time and is very upset about it. incredibly irritated by the whole situation. ★

-> Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

Suo knew something happened. however, wasn’t exactly sure what that something was. the most he knew was that you were ‘fine’. he could’ve sworn he saw you get hurt but apparently not? every time he asked you if you were okay or tried to check on you, you’d back away and insist nothing was wrong. he couldn’t help but feel worried, mainly because he knew something was off. he quickly turned around when he had seen that guy sneak up behind him and you ran over to protect him. he tried to pull you away from any chance of getting hurt. he assumed he had succeeded when you didn’t have a physical reaction to any pain. a month and a half passed quickly as the whole incident continued to chew him up inside. since it was winter, it made things easier for you to hide the scar due to amount of gloves you wore. as the season quickly came to an end so did your excuses on covering up your injury. Of course Suo immediately noticed the scar on the palm of your hand. the sight of it immediately made him frown. you could feel your own nerves building up from just watching him examine your hand with a straight face. he gently grazed over the scar with such soft caring hands. it was rare to see your smiling boyfriend be so serious with a sad expression.

“why didn’t you tell me? i asked you about it… you could’ve told me the truth you know?” Suo’s gentle voice broke the awkward silence that consumed the air. his tone wasn’t angry, it was rather soft with a hint of sadness to it. did you not think you could trust him with this information? he could’ve been there for you. you wouldn’t have gone through it alone, he would’ve been there. it’s all he could think of while trying to understand why you wouldn’t tell him.

“m sorry suo, i didn’t want you to worry. you’re always taking care of me… i just wanted to show that i could also take care of you.” you felt bad looking at his expression. you assumed you were doing the right thing by keeping it from him. he always worried so much about you. you thought this would’ve made him more stressed out than he needed to be. you can see now by the way he looks that wasn’t the case. maybe you should’ve just been honest from the start.

“i don’t want you to take care of me if it means you’ll be the one to get hurt in return.” Suo couldn’t help but raise his voice a little as he blurted out the words before thinking. he immediately regretted saying it when you responded with a hurt expression. “wait! no, i mean. i don’t want you to get hurt because of my own mistakes. i should’ve seen it coming, im glad to know you care for me that much. i just don’t want you to get hurt. next time, let me take it.”

“no.” the small word casually left your lips. you know if you were to go back in time you would do the same thing all over again. Suo knew that as well which is why he responded with a small smile. he didn’t want to encourage this behavior but he knew you well enough to know that you’ll never stand by and let the ones you care about get hurt. you were thankful that your boyfriend was so understanding and knew your character so well. he simply sighed in response to your word with a “what am i gonna do with you?”

-> Toma Hiragi ᡣ𐭩

Hiragi felt himself wince at the sight of you getting hurt. he was helping out an underclassmen from getting beat up when the other guy tried to catch him from behind. he let out a yell to warn you while running over to you but it had been too late. the guy had already landed a swing at you with the knife before Hiragi grabbed his arm back knocking the weapon out of his hand. Hiragi couldn’t care less about the guy while you held your arm in pain. He did the most logical thing he could think of which was shoving the guy away from the two of you and making his way to the hospital with you on his back. ever since the two of you started dating, Hiragi made you a priority. he wasn’t planning on breaking that anytime soon. he’d deal with the situation later all that matters right now is you.

“wait! Hiragi- it’s really not that bad! i’m okay. we don’t need to go, you should go get him. i’ll be fine.” you tried to protest against his decision while holding onto him tightly. he was running so fast you were almost scared of falling off. keyword: almost. your boyfriend was incredibly strong and you knew the chance of him dropping you were slimmed down to a zero. Higari ignored your protests as you sighed in defeat. he didn’t leave your side for the rest of the day as the doctor checked up on you.

“Hiragi. I told you i’m fine, you should go back and see if everyone’s okay. you should go update Umemiya while you still can.” your words have fallen on deaf ears since the two of you have gotten there. Hiragi was completely ignoring your words, at least that’s what you thought. in reality he heard you loud and clear but he just simply didn’t care. he didn’t care about anyone else except you in this moment.

“i’ll call Umemiya as soon as i know you’re okay. don’t worry about it.” is the only response he gave to your rambling. you knew he had more to say but you didn’t know how to ask or bring it up. “i’m sorry. i should’ve been more careful with you being around. i didn’t think anything was going to happen tonight.”

Hiragi was genuinely apologetic. he had promised to take you on a date like good boyfriends do but the night went downhill fast. he felt terrible for dragging you into that mess involving his own duties. he often struggled with balancing his duties and your relationship with him but he always tried to make things work. “it’s okay, it’s just another excuse for you to take me on two date nights now.” you smiled focusing on the bright side of things. “of course, i would never say no to that.” Higari always did wonder what he did to get so lucky to have you.

-> Mitsuki Kiryu ᡣ𐭩

Kiryu cursed himself in his own head. he always went out of his way to keep you safe from any danger. so far, he had succeeded until now. he failed to react in time and pull you away. Kiryu wanted to pummel the guy who hurt you but he knew you needed him now more than ever. he hated the fact that anyone managed to hurt, let alone scare you, especially if he was there.

“hi love, are you okay?” with the way your boyfriends tone remained so loving and soft you would never know how angry he was inside. “i’m okay, doesn’t hurt too bad.” you blushed at the feeling of his hand caressing your cheek. your boyfriend grew irritated by seeing your beautiful skin bruise where the scar was starting to form. you caught a glimpse of your boyfriends eyebrows furrow up as his eyes stayed on your scar. the look in his eye sent goosebumps to your body.

Kiryu wouldn’t consider himself to be an aggressive person but he’d be lying if he said he’d never been more tempted to chase down a man and make him regret their decision in his life. Despite all these emotions Kiryu always put you first and stayed by your side. Even if he couldn’t help but wonder what he could’ve done differently to prevent everything from happening.

The way Kiryu always had the ability to manage his emotions was amazing. it’s a skill not most people have and you’re glad he’s one of the few who do. However, he can’t reassure you that he’ll be able to hold back on the day he runs into that guy again. honestly, for everyone’s sake that person better pray they never see you or Kiryu again. Kiryu’s kindness should never be seen as a weakness. that man is a lot more capable than he often leads people to believe.

★ angry at the world, feels so much anger at everyone. blames everyone, himself, you, those around you. slightly mad at you because he would’ve preferred it be him instead. can’t fathom why you would do that ★

-> Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

Umemiya was horrified at watching you get hurt and being so helpless at the moment. he felt so useless, so many relied on him and he managed to fail the one he loves most. he was angry and was having trouble holding it in. he sat there in anticipation waiting to hear if you were okay. he felt like such a failure as he continuously beat himself up. he slapped his face against his hands as he facepalmed. the moment was a consistent replay eating him alive. Higari had tried to convince him to leave to go get changed or showered or to go eat but Ume insisted he needed to stay with you. just in case. you needed him, he couldn’t be there for you when it happened but he’s here now. that counts… right?

Ume didn’t bother sleeping as he watched your restful state sleeping in the uncomfortable hospital bed. you didn’t deserve this, you’re the sweetest person he’s ever met. he was lucky to have you. he didn’t deserve you, he knew that much. how could someone ever do something like this to you? yeah it was his fault but who hurts such an innocent person? you were just there at the wrong time… and it was his fault you were even there to begin with. his body jolted up as he noticed your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes opened. “hey.. how are you? want some water?” his tone was soft and quiet since it was still the middle of the night. he didn’t want to startle you as he went up to you and softly caressed your face. you didn’t respond besides just holding his arm and tugging him towards you.

he let out a small sigh before getting into bed with you since you made some space for him. you instinctively cuddled into him and held him tightly. you quickly relaxed into his chest as he stroked your hair. “i’m okay Ume.” you finally responded trying to reassure him after hearing the way his heart was pounding. fortunately, hearing that come from your sweet voice relaxed him as he felt a new sense of relief that he never felt before.

“why would you do that (y/n)?” Ume finally built the courage to ask you the question that he had been wondering since everything happened.

“because you’re worth it Ume, i love you. id do anything for you as long as you’re safe.” you answered it so casually as if he was already supposed to know that. he felt his own heart melt from your response. typically Ume was always the one putting himself in front of danger for others. he’d never been on the other side of this experience, it made him feel oddly safe. all that previous anger he felt towards himself vanished at your reassurance. “i love you too (y/n).” Ume wanted to do everything he could to his ability to prevent something like this happening again. he was glad he could rely on you, that doesn’t mean he ever wants to see you in this state again.

-> Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

pissed doesn’t even begin to describe the amount of rage Togame feels. he hates the fact that he even feels that way. his knuckles have turned white at this point with how tightly he was gripping the wheel. you had just gotten released from the hospital and you haven’t heard a peep come out of your boyfriend. the moment kept flashing in and out of his head of it all happening. the two of you were around so many people, how did no one step in? how couldn’t he stop it? why would you even get involved after he specifically told you not to? unfortunately the emotion of anger was seeking out of both of you. the tension was so thick, it was bad whenever the two of you matched energy in this way.

“i don’t get why you would do something so stupid. i told you to stay back for a reason. how many times have i told you? do not get involved. stay out of it.” Togame’s harsh words broke the silence quickly. you were more angry at the fact that he was the one who broke the silence instead of you being the one to do it. a small part of you was shocked that he was even angry at you but you saw it coming. he did tell you to never get involved if the situation ever escalated.

“excuse me?? well i’m sooooo sorry that i didn’t want you to get stabbed???!!!” you couldn’t stop the painful sarcastic laughter from leaving your throat while you ‘apologized’. you didn’t stop there, you couldn’t. you were the kind of person where once you got started there was no going back. surprisingly the two of you shared that annoying quality. “i can’t believe you’re actually mad at me. what was i supposed to do? you can’t expect me not to do anything! if it were the other way around you would’ve jumped in the way. why is it so different when i do it? it’s not.”

“it is, there’s a huge difference. i can handle it. you on the other hand, aren’t supposed to handle anything. so don’t bother to next time. i should be able to have you around me without having to worry that you’ll just casually walk in front of a weapon. who does that? i can do that. you can’t.” god sometimes you hated the way he thought. “no. i can, i will and i already have so there’s no changing that.”

“i just don’t get why. there’s no point in doing something like that. i’m not worth saving (y/n). you are, you’re worth everything to me. you can’t just sacrifice yourself for anyone. what if things had gone differently? what if you weren’t okay? what do i do then? what am i supposed to do without? i cant live without you so don’t put me in a situation where i have to even imagine that possibility.” Togame’s outburst caught you off guard. you knew he was angry but you hadn’t expected him to get so vulnerable. the look in his eye changed completely, they didn’t hold anymore anger. they held the feeling of sadness more than anything.

“don’t say that, you are worth saving. don’t ask me not to do it again. i love you, i wouldn’t let anyone hurt you. i’m sorry i worried you but im not sorry for doing it. i care about you. try to see it from my perspective, the feeling of losing you scares me just as much as it does you.” your words stuck with Togame as his expression softened. the feeling of being loved was still new to him and he had some difficulty accepting it at times.

★ a/n <3 : SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONGG </3 I really hope you enjoy this! it took me awhile to write because i wanted to make it as diverse as possible and include as many characters as i could. i wanted to make their reactions differently and have it happen in different ways. i hope i didn’t disappoint! thank you all for reading and being so patient. i appreciate you all! <33 ★

[miley1442111]

(part 5)party choices- a.donaldson

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a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: when you find out about his betrayal and how your relationship truly ends. (dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, cheating, sexual content, etc. +

PART 5 of 12

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Art thought back to the party as he lay in bed that night, regret bubbling deep in his stomach.

-----------------------------------

He followed you around the party for around 40 minutes before he broke off to find Patrick. He didn’t mean to walk in on them, hell, they weren’t even in a room, they were doing it in a shed, it was fucking ridiculous. Partick had just pulled him in, he consented, sure, but he wasn’t thinking straight. 

“Pat?” Art called into the darkness of the night. “Patrick?”

“In here,” he heard giggling from the shed just a few paces away. 

He opened the door to be met with a very naked Patrick with Tashi beside him. “Jesus Patrick!”

Art looked up as the two of them laughed at his reaction.

“What, it’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” Tashi teased. 

“Fuck off,” he sighed. “I’ll talk to you later-”

“Don’t leave,” Patrick smirked. 

“Yeah Art, stay,” Tashi teased. Art felt so conflicted as he nodded his head. He loved you, he wanted to fuck you, but he wanted this too.

-----------------------------------

The second he left the shed, post-orgasm clarity hit him hard. He‘d just fucked Tashi Duncan (and technically Patrick Zweig watched). Your competition, the woman who hates you, the woman he promised to steer-clear from. 

Fuck.

He went to find you immediately, planning on telling you and letting you break up with him. But… When he saw you, so beautiful, that damn plum dress clouding his judgement, he walked up to you, wrapped you up in his wraps and kissed you as you giggled at his antics. 

He drove you back to your dorm and followed you inside, falling asleep beside you as guilt buried itself in his body. 

He couldn’t even respond when you told him you loved him. 

-----------------------------------

The worst part was that Art knew he’d fucked up. He knew it was an awful idea to try and hide it from you and he regretted not telling you the second it happened. He was aware of how bad this was, not that all the other shit he did to ruin you. Yet he still did. 

You were enraged. You were sick of letting this pathetic boy rule your life. You were done.

-----------------------------------

“C-can we talk?” he asked, cautiously approaching you as you ate in the canteen of the challenger. 

“About what?” you snapped. “You got what you wanted, you have Tashi.”

“I don’t want Tashi,” he mumbled, staring at his feet. “I want you, and I know I don’t deserve you.”

“You cheated on me.” 

“I did,” he admitted. 

“You cheated on me, then strung me on for 6 months, Art. You slept in my bed, you fucked me, you kissed me, and you promised me you loved me, all while you knew you;d fucked someone else,” you listed off. “Go fuck yourself, Art. I hope you choke.”

Art could feel his throat burning. “Alright,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

-----------------------------------

You’d caught wind of Tashi’s injury a week after it happened, and you felt sickly satisfied. Karma. 

You only saw Art and Tashi together, and found out they were dating a few weeks after they got together. 

You were sitting in your dorm when there was a knock at the door. You opened it to find someone who shocked you. 

Patrick Zweig.

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :) @fkaams

[luvjunie]

pretty boy earth 1610 miles 745 words

Three gentle taps to the glass pane of your bedroom window alerted you of your frequent nighttime visitor, ten minutes to midnight, like always. Nose abruptly lifting from the book it was tucked in, you quickly set it off to the side on your duvet and smiled at the sight of Miles—still fully suited up where he stood on your fire escape as he gave you an excited wave. Seeing Spider-Man randomly pop up where you live would probably scare the life out of anyone, but you weren’t just ‘anyone’.

With a small grunt and an upwards pull of your window, you were soon face to face with the netted nylon mask of your city’s secret superhero—who wasn’t much of secret to you and your small room.

Miles immediately pulled his mask off so your lips could meet faster: his main focus, aside from the fact that it was thirty degrees out and he was losing feeling in his toes.

“Hey,” he pulled away from you with a smile that nearly rivaled yours, ducking down and climbing through to escape the prickly chill of the November night.

“Hi pretty boy, I missed you.”

He already had his hands on the bottom, ready to shut it when it’d rolled off your tongue like the simplest thing as you pounced back onto your bed. The window came to a screeching halt, literally, when he looked over his shoulder, eyes widened and blinking as if he’d misheard you. Seemingly unaware of the years you just shaved off his lifespan with those two little words, you glanced down at your book that’d flopped closed due to the movement of your mattress. “Damn, I lost my page.” you muttered with a frown.

“H-What?” Miles blinked, eyes remaining on you until he finally remembered to shut the window, softly, and quietly. “What’d you say?”

“I lost my page?” you repeated.

“Before that.”

You tilted your head at him, brows creased to match the confused look you wore. “I…missed you?” you laughed uncertainly, thumb and pointer finger riffling through the pages of your well-loved copy of Hunger Games: Catching Fire. It was a desperate attempt, really, trying to find where you’d left off. You were never one to dog-ear your pages.

“No, no,” He was facing you fully now, the small two strand twists he had in his hair shaking with his head when it moved from side to side. “The other thing.”

You looked away and at your poster clad wall, eyes squinted as they slowly landed on him again. Your voice, quieter than it was before, had a confused lilt to it when you answered again.

“…Hello?”

“Jesus fuc—” Miles nearly smacked his forehead, hands clasping together and pointing towards you instead. “Baby. What did you say after ‘hello’?”

You thought on it for a moment, relaying through the brief interaction. “Oh!” You sat up, calves tucked beneath your thighs and face brightened with an oncoming grin. “Pretty boy?”

“Yeah,” he scratched his head, eyes bouncing on and off your face and canines showing when his top lip raised into something of a shy smile. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Duh.” You scoffed, as if the answer were beyond obvious. Miles shook his head at you, a puff of air sounding from his nose in the form of amusement.

“Don’t think I’ve heard that one before. Boys aren’t usually called pretty, but I’ll take it.”

Slowly lowering himself, Miles let out an unpleasant groan when his hip touched the ground, far too young to have his joints aching the way they did. Laying down on your sherpa rug, he sprawled out on his back and let his eyes close, like he always did during his night visits. He’d stay for an hour or so, talk with you, get patched up if needed (which was rare), or sometimes take a power nap so he could swing the rest of the way back. And after surveying the city he knew better than to even think about touching your bed. In his outside clothes was bad enough, now his suit? Absolutely not. He was more than satisfied with the floor.

“Yeah, well I think you are.” Laying flat on your stomach, you pressed your cheek to your folded arms and marveled down at your exhausted boyfriend from the height of your bed. “Everything about you is pretty. Like your eyelashes? They’re gorgeous, and for what? It’s lowkey unfair.”

“Aight you’re draggin’ it.” he laughed.

“I’m serious!”

a/n: pretty boys >>>